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bobbyonboard · 2 years

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Peppermint [Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Reader]

Summary: i saw this tiktok of lewis pullman and it was so goddamn sexual my brain wouldn’t shut up until i wrote something about it. also know as--it’s 115 degrees in Lemoore and the AC in Bob’s truck is busted.

Warnings: swearing, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, hair pulling, please assume the reader is always on some sort of contraceptive in my fics unless i state otherwise, bob is a switch and no i will not be taking any questions at this time, minors DO not interact with me you lil shits

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: y’all were so nice with my last one regarding Rooster, I had to write one for my main man!!! also cannot get over I have like 300 new followers. never be afraid to come talk to me!!

“Fuck. Off,” you grumbled in the direction of the television as you heard the chipper weatherman inform you that the high today in Lemoore, California was going to be a record-breaking one hundred and fifteen degrees fahrenheit. One hundred and fifteen fucking degrees. You never hated the Navy more than you did in that moment. Who the fuck gets stationed in Lemoore? No beaches, no shade. Just heat, and lots of it. But where your husband goes, you go–and unfortunately, you both were stuck in Lemoore.

The July air was thick and it wasn’t even nine in the morning, so you made sure that you didn’t have a single thing to do that day except stay inside the apartment, laying upside-down on your couch directly in front of your tiny window AC unit. You’d always loved being a teacher, but days like this, when you thought you actually might melt if you went outside, you were sure as hell glad you had summers off.

Your day passed by lazily, only shuffling between the couch and the kitchen to get more water what seemed like every thirty minutes. Before you knew it, it was already four o’clock, and you were expecting Bob home any minute.

Bob had told you that morning he was heading out to run a few test flights on some newer planes, so you expected him to come home freshly showered from the Naval base locker rooms, smelling of Old Spice and car air freshener that had been blasted over his clothes from his aggressive truck air conditioning. But instead, when you lazily glanced over your shoulder to the sound of keys jingling, you were greeted with…well, certainly not that.

Bob’s hair was frizzed and stuck straight up in the back, almost as if he had just taken off his helmet. His clothes were stuck to his skin, large sweat stains covering most of the material of his t-shirt. His cheeks were a dark shade of red, and his eyes looked as though they were currently in the process of holding back unshed tears.

“Bobby?,” you frowned, quickly standing up, crossing the room, and quickly taking his duffel bag from his hand to toss on the floor. “Honey, whassamatter? You okay?,” you asked, putting the back of your hand on his forehead and physically wincing at how hot his skin was to the touch.

“Pipes burst,” was all he murmured out, bottom lip trembling just slightly, and it was quite literally breaking your heart to see him so miserable. “We landed and–and went to go shower and they told us a pipe burst, so the showers weren’t working. So I couldn’t shower and–,” he started to breathe a bit heavier, almost as if his own clothes were weighing him down worse than any g-force.

“I got to the truck and the AC was just blowing out hot air. So I rode all the way home with the windows down and I’m just so hot,” he finally whimpered, and you just brushed his wet hair out of his face with a soft coo.

You hated to see him like this. You couldn’t imagine how hot he had to be in that plane today, only to land and not be able to cool down like his body so desperately needed. An idea suddenly popped into your brain, and you were taking off down the hallway.

“Put your arms up, honey,” you purred ever so gently once you returned, producing a cold packet of wet wipes. You pulled one out of its bag, sighing softly at the gentle smell of peppermint, and you immediately began to wipe down Bob’s face and neck.

“Thank you-u-u-u,” he practically sobbed, arms stuck straight out at his sides as you began to slide the wipes under his t-shirt, along his shoulders, under his armpits, his chest, and his waist. “What does it do?,” he asked after a moment, almost afraid to open his eyes for fear that this was all some fever dream and he’d be standing back on the tarmac, dripping sweat.

“I keep these in my little fridge in the bathroom, with all my skin care stuff,” you hummed sweetly, pulling a fresh wipe out and continuing on the bit of skin where you left off. “It helps me freshen up before I go to bed at night, or when I come back from the gym and I’m just too tired to shower before bed,” you chuckle, ghosting a feather-light kiss over his brow as you continued to work on cooling him down.

“Feels so good,” he whimpered, and his once red cheeks were now only a soft pink, his breathing returning to a relatively normal pace.

“Good, baby. You’ll feel better in just a minute, yeah? Got this AC on you, and you smell all peppermint-y,” you teased, and you don’t know if it was the practically obscene noises Bob was letting out, or the way he was absolute putty in your hands, but you let the wipes in your hand dip a little lower into the waistband of his pants.

A strangled moan escaped Bob’s lips, and you just let one hand pop open the buttons of his pants, sliding them down his legs.

“Gotta get you completely covered,” you whispered, dropping down to your knees where you began to work on wiping down his thighs. After mere seconds, you glanced up to see a ten already forming in your husband’s boxers, and damn, if that didn’t make a girl’s ego soar.

“M’sorry,” he almost cried, shivering under your touch. “Just–feels so good. You make me feel so good.”

“I always wanna make you feel good, honey,” you purred, peppering his thighs with kisses and feeling the leftover peppermint oil tingle your lips. You eventually stood back up (despite a noise of protest from your husband) and stripped him down to only his boxers, getting a final fresh wipe out of the pack and letting it drag along his skin.

“Come sit,” you took his hand, leading him over so he was directly in front of the AC unit, resting on the plush couch as he immediately tossed his head back out let out a pornographic moan, which caused you to clench your thighs together in delight.

“Y’so good t’me,” Bob practically slurred, completely overwhelmed with the lavish attention he was receiving, and his skin began to prickle when the freezing cold air blew against his minty skin.

“You deserve it all, Bobby,” you whispered, moving to straddle his hips, your thin pajama pants and his boxers the only thing separating the two of you as you wiped his cheeks down for the final time, before pressing a chaste kiss to the apple of each one.

Bob said your name with a strangled cry, hips immediately rocking up to get some friction, any friction at all. And who were you to deny such a pretty boy something he wanted so desperately? So you just relaxed yourself slowly, lazily rocking down on his achingly hard cock and letting out a soft moan of your own.

Your nipples were hard from where they were currently being assaulted by a barrage of cold air from the unit, and they were settled right in front of your husband’s face, which proved to make his next task considerably easier. He hooked his fingers in the straps of your tank top and tugged them down your arms before his lips were wrapped around your right nipple, sucking on it lightly and letting it roll between his teeth. You let out a soft cry, your fingers tangling immediately in his damp hair as you began to rock yourself against him a bit faster.

It was only a few minutes before he pulled off with an obscenely wet ‘pop’, letting his head rest against your sternum.

“Y/N–,” Bob choked out, his hips stilling immediately.

“Okay, sweetheart,” was all you said, lifting yourself just slightly out of his lap to give him a moment to focus.

It didn’t take him long at all, because just a second later you were being pushed onto your back on the couch, with your lover’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs and tossing them to the floor. Not a moment was wasted as he immediately licked a long, hot stripe between your folds, fingers digging into your hips.

“Robert,” you gasped, and you swear you could feel that son of a bitch smirk, even face first in your cunt. If his hair wasn’t already a mess, it certainly was now, the way you were tugging on it and rocking your hips against his face to try and get the perfect rhythm.

It didn’t take long. It never did with Bob. He somehow knew exactly what to do to have you coming on his tongue in five minutes flat, keeping your hips pressed down to the couch.

“Bobby–,” you tried to warn, but it was too late. At your cry of his name, he gave a certain flick of his tongue and you were coming fast and hard, riding his face like your life depended on it, his tongue pressed flat against your clit as you shook with each pulse of your orgasm.

You barely had time to think, no less to actually say anything, before he was tugging you into a new position. You were bent over the back of the couch, face perfectly aligned with the air conditioning as Bob got behind you, one knee on the edge of the couch.

“You ready for me, darlin’?,” he asked, and God, you could have died right there.

“Always, baby.”

You felt him slide into you smoothly, using one hand to guide himself and the other slide up your body to your hair, gathering a handful and giving you a harsh tug. The way he bent you had your chest getting covered with cold air, nipples hard enough to cut diamonds.

“Fuck, you always feel so fuckin’ good,” he moaned, putting his other knee on the couch as he began to piston his hips against your ass, the slapping sounds your skin made filling your small apartment, loud enough to be heard even over the roaring AC.

You, however, were unable to respond, due to the absolute overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through your body. Your head and neck began to ache deliciously, and the way the head of Bob’s cock brushed against your sweet spot with each thrust had you mewling under his hands.

“I’m not gonna–,” Bob grunted, and you understood, Whenever he was needy, he never lasted long, and that was certainly fine by you. Like you said–it was an ego boost.

“S’okay, baby,” you panted, and he reached forward to play with one of your tits, his chest pressed to your back as he fucked you even harder.

“So good for me. Fuckin’--fillin’ my pussy up. Fuck, Bobby, you’re gonna make me come again,” you practically sobbed, and the fact that the two of you were sweating from exertion but also cool from the air conditioning made everything that more sensitive.

The praise went straight to Bob’s dick, and you could feel it twitching already.

“Please–,” he gasped, trying so hard to last until he could make you come again.

“Go ahead, honey. Come for me. Come for me, Bobby,” you groaned, wincing in pleasure at how your sensitive cunt was already teetering on the edge of orgasm.

You had barely finished your command before Bob was spilling himself inside of you, letting out a high-pitched whine as he emptied himself. He managed to let the hand that was in your hair slide down your body and move to your pussy, fingers rubbing quickly at your clit.

“Baby, come for me. Wanna feel you come on my cock,” he practically begged, even though he had already orgasmed, he would simply die for the chance to feel you clenching on his softening cock still inside of you, practically milking every bit of come he had given you.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, gripping tight at the back of the couch as you felt your orgasm wash over you for the second time that evening, cringing out softly each time your cunt squeezed your husband’s cock, feeling it nestled deep inside of you.

Soft whimpered and moans spilled from Bob’s lips, along with various words of filth that didn’t exactly form a coherent sentence, but they were so goddamn sexy all the same.

As he pulled out slowly, he leaned over to press a soft kiss to the small of your back before two of you landed in a messy pile on the couch, trying to catch your breath.

You curled up next to him, almost (dare you say) chilly from the constant cold air on your skin, and your eyes closed to enjoy those post-coital moments together before you had to get up and clean yourselves off.

“You know,” Bob started, fingertips brushing lightly over your sides. “Bet we could really cool down in the shower.”

taglist: @walkonthewiidside

people that might be interested in this idk: @bradshawsbaby @callsignbob @thebradleybradshaw

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darklcy · 9 months

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𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧.

─── ･.☽ . .───

‣ the upside down is frightening. your journey back to the real world knocks you behind a step, but eddie's there to notice.

‣ eddie munson x reader | stranger things masterlist | 843 words | comfort, fluff, kind of established relationship, kind of not, takes place in season 4

‣ i wrote this based on a dream i had where i kept hugging someone when i was scared; i know the scene with steve isn't entirely accurate to the canon story but for fanfic's sake please bear with me-

Breathing wasn’t easy.

Like re-experiencing childhood again, learning how to take the first steps, forgetting the rhythm of inhale, hold, exhale. Fingertips quivering, eyes blown wide, greasy, slicked hair slacked against your moist forehead and neck. A rumble and tremor with each step you take. This world was terrifying. And it lived beneath you all this time.

This forest was a mirror of the real world, Hawkins’s corpse surrounding the sky with claps of thunder and venomous beasts waiting to attack.

At least Steve wasn’t bleeding anymore. From back here, he appeared to walk normally, his grip on the flashlight strong and steady. A twig snapped under your shoe with a tumble. The two boys pause to glance back.

“You okay?”

Steve, always the caring figure. You feel yourself nod.

“..Yeah.”

The trudge through the trees continues, but not before Eddie reaches out. Steve's already turned his back, but a gentle hand caresses your arm.

“Walk up here.”

He urges you in front of him, closing any space behind you with himself. The two boys reawaken their conversation without another word.

The surprises in this world continue to pile on, as a human sized portal above you showed the real Hawkins on the other side, the carpeted floor of the Munson trailer along with Dustin Henderson. He heaves a blanket through the ceiling to fall in front of you with a soft thud.

“This is trippy…”

Robin’s comment fades in. You let her take the reins first. Once contact to the real world was made, you all watch as she flies straight down to the mattress in a sideways flip, a nervous bundle of laughter escaping her.

Her smile was contagious, and awoke some courage as you too grabbed hold of the fabric.

“Steady..”

Eddie murmurs behind you. You keep your glance upwards, hesitantly climbing up and up until a swoop-

…and your spine roughly hits the mattress.

“Woahh..”

You gasp out a chuckle, watching Eddie’s eyes meet yours in a kind squint. Robin and Dustin help you back to your feet, and the rest of the group file in.

“That was fun..Shit.”

Eddie’s remark curves your lips upwards slightly, and he doesn’t miss it. The second it’s there, it’s gone. He’s grateful he got to see it.

Reentering the human world outside the trailer, the fresh air makes your knees tremble, the brutal force of all you went through hitting at once. The group depart their separate ways, ready to reconvene in the morning, when you turn to him.

Eddie finds your eyes immediately. You’d lingered behind again, opting to remain in the back, unnoticed and undetected. You don’t waste a beat to run to him, arms tight around his middle and cheek resting on the Hellfire demon, his red face embracing yours.

Safe. You feel safe.

He stumbles a bit, taken by surprise, but his arms move on their own accord to embrace you back. You feel his palm keeping you to him, gently rubbing up and down your hair and back. In his arms, it's just you and him to worry about. No monsters, no earthquakes, no Vecna. Just him. Eddie.

He knows you’re frightened. He’d kept an eye on you throughout the whole Upside Down excursion, and he felt guilty in the sense he couldn’t protect you from your own fear. But under his hands he felt you calm down, your breaths slowing into a steady beat.

If this is what he can do to help you, he’ll be damned to let you go.

Steve’s house was home for the night. The drive there was quiet, bumpy and dark, but no longer than fifteen minutes. Eddie wasn’t comfortable letting you go home alone tonight. Neither were you.

The heated water poured out of the shower head and washed away the grime. Any residue of Lover’s Lake and bats swept down, down, the drain, replacing the cold with warmth. There was no energy to really delve into proper shower regime. You just wanted this stuff off.

Wrapping yourself up in a robe, damp hair dripping to the floor, you open the door to find him waiting.

“Hey.”

You shyly meet his eye. “..Hi.”

He doesn’t approach you immediately, allowing you to be the one to initiate any contact. He’s always careful with you.

You miss him and he’s standing right in front of you. Your arms raise as you step forward, your cheek nuzzling against the red demon once more. Eddie hums with his eyes closed, his chin resting atop your wet hair and arms tight around the soft robe. He leans you both side to side gently, as if rocking you to a gentle sleep.

Neither one of you talk. You just take a deep breath and sigh into his shirt. You could stay here forever, and you know he’d let you.

His lips press themselves onto your forehead when you part. When you meet his eyes again, beautiful pools of brown, his hidden message warms your mouth into a grin.

I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things 4 x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x reader comfort #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #x reader fluff

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talesof-old · 2 months

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nightly studies | c.w.

pairing(s): charlie weasley x male!reader

warning(s): 18+, smut, blowjobs, slight edging, very slight voyeurism?, sharing an apartment, shower sex, needy reader, reader has a penis, not proofread or edited, i don’t know what i’m doing i wrote this in one sitting

word count: 1.7k

a/n: so originally the request was for while charlie and reader were at hogwarts but that would make them underage so i changed it so they’re working at the romanian dragon reserve

i did change the request just a tad, so i hope that’s fine!

masterlist

charlie weasley + smut

You’d been listening to Charlie talk about the characteristics of the Antipodean Opaleye for at least thirty-five minutes. You glanced at the clock on the apartment wall and grimaced.

23:49.

You shifted in your seat, pants rubbing against your dick in an unforgiving tease, leaving you nearly gasping. It couldn’t be helped; Charlie was most attractive when he talked about the things he was passionate about, and one of those things just happened to be dragons. The two of you had been studying for the newest addition to the Romanian dragon reserve for hours at this point.

One glance over at Charlie solidified the inkling that stopping for release would not be an option. You sighed, grabbing your previously abandoned quill and marking the notes sheet you’d made.

“-and it’s got to be one of the prettiest dragons I’ve ever seen.”

You nodded along, finishing your note about adult breeding habits. At least someone was getting ducked down.

A gentle hand touched your thigh, high enough that you nearly jumped out of your skin. “You alright, love?” Your face burned but you hummed, nodding at the redhead. He leaned closer, head just inches from yours.

“Are you certain?”

You rolled your shoulders back and spared him a glance. His eyes glittered in the soft candlelight, which under any other circumstances would have you kissing him like a starved man. He jerked his chin towards your papers. You huffed, handing him the pages with words still damp from ink.

“Blimey, you’ve gotten far more done than I have.” You shook your head. A soft smile fought its way to your lips; of course Charlie Weasley didn’t have to write any of the information down, he was Charlie Weasley. The other dragonologists didn’t joke about him being the Walking Dragon Encyclopedia for nothing.

“Not all of us can keep all of that information in our brains.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The stubble on his chin rubbed against the sensitive flesh of your face, reminding you of a much different place you’d like to feel it. You shifted in your seat again. The boner you’d been rocking for what felt like an eternity seemed to grow more sensitive with every moment. If you glanced up, you might’ve noticed the all too knowing smile on Charlie’s face.

Silence fell over the both of you, save for the scratching of quills against parchment or the clinking of metal in ink pots. It droned on and on, echoing like a drum in your ears. Charlie, potentially intentionally (and infuriating) oblivious, dutifully wrote out the notes he imagined he’d need later.

A part of you hated him for it.

The other part of you ended up winning, however. A quick glance at the clock told you it was twenty past midnight. Your shared roommate’s shift ended in just a little over an hour.

“How much longer you got?”

Charlie’s brow furrowed in mock innocence as he flipped through several pages then turned to you.

“Dunno, maybe a chapter?”

You clicked your tongue. “You have fifteen minutes. Please come to the bedroom when you’re done.” He simply blinked at your request; a borderline plea for him to follow.

“Love, you know I love you dearly, but why…?”

You stacked your own books neatly, putting a lid on your ink pot and organizing your paper. His expectant words had you gnawing at the inner part of your cheek.

Heat spread across your neck. Was he really going to make you explain yourself? Truly?

Instead, you stood.

In moments, Charlie’s face was beat red, though the shit-eating grin on his face let you know he was far from embarrassed—or surprised. You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face and shuffling to the bedroom.

“Be there soon as I finish, love. Don’t get started without me.”

His words turned firm. You bit your lip, closing the door behind you and undressing quietly. Night shifts sometimes ended earlier than normal due to the overlap of shifts, so there was a chance your roommate Sasha would be back at any moment.

You crawled into bed, clad in nothing but underwear, body nearly trembling with anticipation. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your eyelids despite the tension that seemed to snake through every inch of your being. Sleep would come quickly tonight.

Your cock ached at the lack of touch, enough that you seriously debated starting without your boyfriend. Time dragged as you laid among the soft sheets. Another glance at the clock.

00:52.

You groaned, head flopping back onto the pillow. Privacy was rare to come by these days, especially at the Sanctuary. Both of you loved your job with every fiber of your being, but damn if it didn’t sometimes get to you. It was like being in school all over again.

The door creaked open and Charlie’s sheepish smile instantly had you raising a brow.

“Sasha’s back.”

You nearly wept.

“Come on, I’ve got an idea.”

Charlie crossed the room to tug you from the bed, all but dragging you into the bathroom. The cogs in your brain slowly but surely started turning. A grin spread across your face.

“Shower sex? Really? Well you sure know how to seduce someone.” Charlie shook his head and wrapped his arms around you, peppering your face and neck with kisses. You hummed at the affection, tracing over the burn marks on his arms.

“Need to drown out the noises, rather not have him walk in on the two of us.”

Your dick throbbed at the idea of potentially getting caught. Charlie turned, switching on the shower and letting it warm up. In the meantime, you stripped down completely with him following suit, both nude in the chilly bathroom. Your cock slapped against your abdomen as you waited for the water.

“Remind you of anything?”

You laughed as you conjured up an image of the prefect bathroom.

“Perhaps one too many fond memories.”

He reached a hand under the water to test the temperature. With a nod, you were stepping into the rather small shower cubicle. He settled behind you, nipping at the skin of your shoulder as he reached around you to splay a hand over your abdomen. You clamped your mouth shut to avoid the keening noise that would’ve erupted from your throat.

“Careful, love.”

You leaned against the wall, desperate for stability as his hand lowered, gliding over skin until he gripped your cock at the base. You bucked your hips, the sensation too much and not enough. Red hot pleasure nearly blinded you as Charlie fondled your balls, your legs trembling at the sudden assault.

“I’m too tired to shag. Give you a jobby?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to open your mouth.

He was down on his knees in an instant, lips smacking before he turned you to face him. He leaned you against the wall, legs just barely parted for balance. Charlie guided your cock to his mouth, lips parting as he took you in. You gasped, already far too close from how long you’d waited. He inched you further into his mouth until you were as far as you could go. Your eyes rolled back as he gave an experimental suck, his tongue warm and soft against your sensitive flesh.

Pleasure coiled in your gut like a spring. If he wasn’t careful, you’d blow a load quicker than a virgin.

“Charlie-“ You weren’t even sure what you were going to say, especially as he drew back and began licking at the veins of your dick. Warm water pelted against your side. You choked, reaching a hand out to the wall as he kitten licked all the way up the length of you. He paused for a brief moment, long enough that you looked down.

His hair was halfway in his eyes, sipping wet as he regarded you like something divine. Your knees went weak.

“Beautiful.”

His lips attacked themselves to your balls, already taut from holding back a rapidly impending orgasm, and you used your free hand to cover your mouth.

He grinned, moving to lick one long stripe on the bottom of your cock to the tip. Your hips bucked against his face. He loosened his jaw, careful of his teeth, and allowed you to sink back into his warm hole.

You shook, teetering on the edge of climax, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed.

He sucked, bobbing his head up and down as if daring you to cum in his mouth. You moaned loudly against your hand, trembling like a baby fawn as you felt your balls tightened and your cock pulsed. Your hips involuntarily jerked, sending you deeper into his mouth. The tip of your dick hit the back of his throat, and instead of choking he sucked hard.

Just as you nearly fell over the edge, Charlie pulled away. You whined, tears filling your eyes at the denial. Reasonably, you knew he was trying to wear you out. But you’d rather cum right now. Charlie rubbed his cheek against your thigh, far too tender for what he’d just done.

“Don’t be mad, lovely.”

You inhaled sharply as your climax slowly faded away.

He pressed kisses to your inner thighs, alternating between sucking hard or gently licking at the skin, desperate to mark up your skin. He gripped your legs, his fingers digging in as he returned his attention back to your cock.

Your chest heaved as he sucked on your head, running a tongue over your slit. Your hands splayed across the tile of the shower, unsteady in their search for solid ground.

He took you deeper, your abdomen tensing as you rapidly approached your orgasm once more. Your body ached with desire. He bobbed his head, each motion sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Late nights always heightened your sensitivity.

You bucked against his mouth, moaning as he swirled his tongue around your shaft.

Charlie hummed, and all of a sudden it was too much. You cried out, white flashing across your eyes as you came. Charlie swallowed, throat still massaging you through your orgasm. You whined weakly, panting as your vision returned. Charlie slowly pulled you from his mouth, patting your thigh as you groaned. He wrapped his arms around you. You leaned heavy against him, body shaky.

He kissed you hard, salty cum still on his tongue as he did. You moaned against his mouth, almost desperate to have another go at the taste of you still lingering.

A bang on the bathroom door had you jumping in his arms.

“Are you two done now? I need to take a piss!”

You laughed quietly, resting your head against Charlie’s shoulder.

“We need to get our own place.”

+++

#harry potter x reader #harry potter #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley x male!reader #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley smut #charlie weasley #x reader #talesofold birthday special

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halfway-happyyy · 11 months

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into gold I {rooster bradshaw}

synopsis: rooster bradshaw’s emotional baggage could fill a cargo container ten times over. he is the single father of a precocious and bubbly six-year-old, and despite his best efforts, has fallen head over heels for someone arguably more damaged than him- his daughter’s first grade teacher.

i originally wrote this part in july of last year, but re-wrote it recently to breathe new life into it. this will be a multi-part piece. no warnings as of yet, but there will be some in the future. i don’t normally write multi-part pieces, so please be gentle.

characters- bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw, frankie bradshaw, female ooc scout wallis (she/her pronouns)

Rooster Bradshaw is of the general opinion that the universe does not fight for souls to be together.

He tells himself this every time he starts to feel close to someone; that despite their beauty, their money, their career, the way they flirt, the way they fuck- the universe has never sided with him, and it certainly isn't about to start now, so why bother?

But then Friday morning rolls around and he's fifteen minutes late to meet with his daughter's teacher and when he finally gets to her classroom, he has an entire speech prepared. But then she glances up at him from the test that she’s grading and every single word he memorized on the way there evaporates into thin air. Suddenly the idea of the universe intervening on his behalf doesn’t sound like such a bad idea after all.

“Hi Miss Wallis.” He murmurs, breathlessly.

The red pen in her grasp stills, her gaze sharp as a knife. “You’re late, Mr. Bradshaw.”

He swallows hard; tries to focus on anything other than her being genuinely one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen.

“I got caught up in traffic.”

She rises from her chair to stand in front of her desk and Rooster notices the sundress she has on is covered in hand-drawn safari animals- giraffes, cheetahs, flamingos- and it somehow endears him to her a little bit more. “I wanted to have a quick talk with you about Frankie.” Despite her initial disappointment with him, her face lights up, and her tone softens when she mentions his daughter’s name. “And let me start off by saying that she is a joy to have in the classroom.”

Rooster smiles at that.

“She is inquisitive and intelligent and kind, but she’s also extremely quiet. Getting her to participate with her classmates has been a challenge, to say the least.” She drags her bottom lip between her teeth in thought, and Rooster finds that he must try twice as hard to concentrate on the conversation at hand. “Has she ever mentioned anything to you about the way the other students treat her?”

Rooster blanches. “No, in fact she constantly tells me how much she loves going to school.”

Frankie's teacher smiles briefly. “I’ve caught a few of the other students bullying her- making fun of the jokes she tells, the way she dresses, and they’ve been spoken too and dealt with accordingly, but I just wanted to have an open and frank conversation with you about it to let you know what’s been going on. We take this kind of stuff quite seriously here, and there is a plan in place for if it continues.”

Shifting from foot to foot, he says, “Well, I do appreciate the communication. It hasn't always been easy with just the two of us, but we make do...” It bothers him that at six years old, and with everything she’s gone through in her short life, she hasn’t felt like she could tell him about what’s really been going on with her. “I will make sure to speak with her this weekend, and I really do appreciate you setting this up.” He glances around the room and at the myriads of artwork that decorate every square inch of wall space. It’s obvious to him how much her students adore her, and it causes Rooster’s heart to swell, knowing his pride and joy is in good hands when she’s here. He feels her gaze on him, and it makes his cheeks flame under the florescent lighting.

“Would you like to see some of her work before you leave?”

Rooster nods emphatically; would love nothing more. She guides him over to a spot at the front of the room where a bunch of drawings hang beneath a sign titled, 'What Makes You Happy?' She points to a drawing in the centre of the wall. It depicts six roughly drawn stick figures; five adults and a child. Two of the adults- a man and a woman - are in the sky next to a smiling sun, with what look to be angel wings protruding from their backs. Rooster’s breath hitches in his throat, and his eyes immediately begin to prickle with looming tears. He thinks of his parents often and wonders where they are and if they would be proud of the way he’s raising their granddaughter. His gaze moves to the three adults on the ground who stand around the child, and a fat orange cat lounges at the child’s feet.

“I want a cat more than anything in the world, daddy.”

“We’re not ready yet, Frankie. But someday soon, perhaps.”

“She cares very deeply for her family.” She murmurs, thoughtfully. “She is constantly talking of them. Especially her grandparent’s.”

Emotion swells in the hollow of his throat, and he swallows hard to rid himself of it. “I try to talk about them with her as much as I can, but it isn’t always easy.”

“No. It isn't, is it?” Her wistful tone tells him that she knows a thing or two about loss as well.

Silence settles like dust between them, and he glances at the watch on the underside of his wrist. Twenty to eight. “I want to apologize for my lateness this morning.”

They wander over to her door, and she shrugs. “It’s nice that you showed up at all, honestly. You can’t imagine how many parents don’t.”

“I’d like to make it up to you.”

Her smile is wry as she cocks her head to the side, playing coy with him. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’d like to make it up to you for wasting your time. Take you out for drink or food, or anything really.”

She shakes her head, and her eyes twinkle mischievously. “That isn’t necessary, Mr. Bradshaw. Regardless, I don’t date my students’ parents.”

Rooster laughs easily. “But you could make an exception?”

It’s her turn to laugh now. “Even if I did, another rule that I have is that I don’t date men in the military.”

Rooster reckons she’s got him there, so he concedes on the point for now. “Alright, if you say so. But if you find yourself having a sudden change of heart- you know how to get a hold of me.”

She ushers him out into the hallway, with a wide grin pulling the edges of her lips skyward. “Good day, Mr. Bradshaw.”

“Good day, Miss Wallis.”

Frankie’s first grade teacher lingers in his mind long after she’s gone from his presence. He wonders how it came to be that they’d never crossed paths before and has a sudden, sneaking suspicion that she may be one of the only reasons Frankie enjoys going to school as much as she does. He thinks about his daughter then; how he had dropped her off at Penny’s last night for the weekend, but still misses her with every fiber of his being and makes a mental note to call her as soon as he’s done work for the day. Arriving on base, he allows himself a moment in the Bronco to watch a super hornet prepare for flight. Something aches somewhere deep in his heart; makes him irrevocably nostalgic for the good ol’ days. And it isn’t that he minds instructing for TOPGUN- on the contrary, it’s been a fantastic job to have that still ensures he gets some time in his beloved planes, but he would be lying to anyone if he said he didn’t miss the thrill of being called to missions.

“You coming out tonight, Bradshaw?” Jake slaps the doorframe twice and pokes his head into Rooster’s room an hour later.

He’s about to protest- could think of a million other things he’d rather do than hit the Hard Deck with Jake and the others- except that he can’t come up with a single reason, so he shrugs sheepishly. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“No Frankie this weekend?”

Rooster shakes his head. “Mav and Penny wanted to take her out on a little trip on the water.”

“Excellent. See you then, buddy.”

“It’s easily one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.” Bob must yell above the din of the bar to be heard. Taking a long slug off the beer in his hand, he takes his phone out of his pocket and is entirely too careful not to let it touch the wooden bar. “Do you want to see a picture of him?”

Rooster nods enthusiastically. “I would love to see a picture of your cat, Bob.”

He holds up his phone, and Rooster’s suddenly struck by the uncanny resemblance of the cat on the screen to the cat in Frankie’s drawing from this morning. “Have you by any chance shown Frankie a picture of…” He trails off because he cannot remember what Bob’s cat is called, for the life of him.

“His name is Ulysses. And yes, Frankie and I have had many conversations about him.”

Rooster laughs and finishes the last of the hoppy amber liquid in his pint glass. “So, I guess I have you to thank for her newest obsession with felines.”

Bob’s smile is sheepish.

“Now, how did that happen?” Phoenix's laugh is incredulous as she gestures to the front entrance of the Hard Deck.

Rooster cranes around in his seat at the bar and nearly drops the empty glass in his hand when he catches sight of Jake Seresin arm in arm with none other than Frankie's first grade teacher.

“Did you know he was dating anyone?” Fanboy peers over at Coyote expectantly, who looks just as perplexed as everyone else.

“Nope.”

Rooster considers making a run for it; reckons his odds are pretty good if he can get Phoenix and Bob to distract the two of them for long enough. He’s about to slide his credit card over the bar to Jimmy when the unmistakable sound of Jake's laughter causes the hair to prickle at the nape of his neck.

“Not trying to run away on us, are ya Bradshaw? There's someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

She’s sporting a different dress than this morning; some sort of black silk number that Rooster thinks would look perfect pooled on his hardwood floor, and he clears his throat before his thoughts run away on him. “A pleasure to meet you.” He extends a hand for her to shake, which she accepts hesitantly. Her cheeks are flushed, and Rooster can only guess at why.

Hangman gazes at the elder naval pilot, his expression smug. “I actually have you to thank, Rooster.”

Rooster eyes him wearily- can’t imagine what game he's playing at. “Is that so?”

“Yep. I met Scout here, two months ago when I did Frankie’s school run for you.”

He glances over at the woman he had first met only mere hours earlier and who is hell-bent on looking everywhere but at him and all he can think is… so much for not dating a military man.

Jake presses a chaste kiss to her cheek and passes by the bar to join Coyote at the well-worn dart board in the corner of the room.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation, huh?” She murmurs, dropping into the seat next to Rooster.

He’s about to flag Jimmy down for another beer, but the seasoned barkeeper beats him to it by sliding a frothy glass over with a knowing smile. Rooster takes a deep sip and levels his gaze with Scout’s.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

And he means it. He’s simply content just to be in her presence again.

After a few quiet moments, she tilts her head to the side, and flashes a smile that makes Rooster feel like he’s known her since the beginning of everything. “Jake told me on the way here that you’re the guy to go to if I want to hear a song on the piano.”

Rooster’s not exactly sure where this is coming from, but if it means getting her to smile like that again for him, he reckons there isn’t much in the world he wouldn’t do.

“He did, did he?”

“He sure did. I’m Scout, by the way.”

Scout. He rolls her name around in his mind, liking the notion of it making a permanent home there.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you again, Scout. I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”

“But you go by Rooster?” She asks.

He shifts in his seat, nodding his head in silent confirmation.

“Which do you prefer to be called?”

And what Rooster really wants to say is, you can call me anything your pretty little heart desires. But what he says is, “Rooster. It makes me feel closer to my old man.”

There’s a story there. She’s seconds away from asking about it and he’s seconds away from telling it to her, but then a shadow falls over the glossy wooden countertop and Jake appears behind her, placing an impossibly tan hand over the rounded curve of her shoulder.

“Well, did you ask him?”

“Pool table’s ours, Hangman!” Someone calls out over the din around them.

Jake doesn’t wait for her to reply before he bends down to whisper something in her ear which Rooster doesn’t quite hear, but still causes a wave of something unpleasant to bloom in the pit of his stomach.

“He’ll take good care of you, Scout.” Jake simpers by way of goodbye, throwing a wink at Rooster before backing away into the crowd.

“About that song…” Scout murmurs.

Rooster takes another deep slug from his pint glass and levels his gaze with hers again. “I’ll play you anything you want to hear.”

Scout taps a finger against her chin in contemplation. “Anything?”

Rooster nods.

“Alright. I’ve got it. But I want you to tell me something about yourself first.”

A puff of air exits his mouth in a low whistle; he wasn't expecting that one. “Anything?”

She nods.

Where to begin? Don’t scare her off now, Bradshaw.

“Well, you already know about Frankie. I could write novels about my love for her. But I suppose something I don’t talk about very often is the fact that I wasn’t always sure I would fly planes for the Navy for a living.” If Scout seems surprised by this revelation, she doesn’t show it. “In fact, I had big dreams of playing for the MLB. I’m sure my mom would have preferred that; God rest her soul.” Rooster smiles around the rim of his glass at the memory of his mother.

“What happened?” Scout asks, earnestly.

Rooster swallows hard, and wonders just how much of himself he should share with her. “Car crash, first year of university. Broke a lot of shit, crushed a lot of MLB-imperative body parts.” He doesn’t let his thoughts stray as far this time before he poses the question to her.

“I’m relatively new to teaching; I’ve only been doing it for the last couple of years, but it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself. My kids mean everything to me.” She talks about it all with such conviction that Rooster has no choice but to believe her every word.

A comfortable silence befalls them before Rooster sighs and says, “Alright, Scout Wallis. What’ll it be?”

Scout grins and rises from her seat, holding her hand out to Rooster like a beacon. “I’d like to hear Great Balls of Fire.”

Genuine laughter bubbles up from the base his throat, and as the gold-dust woman before him leads him to the well-loved piano in the center of the bar, he wonders two things. The first being, how Jake Seresin ended up getting to her first, and how on Earth it's possible to be in love with someone after a day.

#rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #tgm #miles teller #rooster bradshaw fanfic #writing #masterlist

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undercoverpena · 1 year

Note

More Helen x Ghost pleaseeeeee

sometimes, I am merciful

Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

Word count: 1k

AN: mentions of a wound and dressing it. fluff-ish (probably more than I’d like but it’s been a day and a half and I needed this too). Helen isn’t readers name, read Helen.Simon for more context. take pity on me, I wrote this on my phone (: but hope it’s okay, anon.

+++++++++++

“Helen,” he hisses through gritted teeth.

He clenched his other fist, the bones on the glove cracking under pressure. He’s trying not to stare at you—fearful you’d turn him into fucking stone.

The look on your face is still etched into his eyelids. Eyes flicking from him to his clearly bleeding hand, a mixture of relief and disappointment he’s come back with another scar you’ll obsessively try and heal.

Your grip on his hand tightens, wrenching it closer. “Keep still, Casper.”

He doesn’t hate it. The grip you have on him. Both literally and figuratively. Even if he doesn’t fully understand the ifs, buts and how’s of it all.

But he doesn’t fucking hate your new pet name. The one you’ve clearly thought about over the thirty-six hours he’s been gone.

He’s had it for all of fifteen minutes and already cannot stand it. But he refuses to ask for Boo.

Instead, he puts up with it. Letting you relish in inflicting your own choice of torture.

Because if you’re calling him a friendly ghost, it means you’re still calling him. Still talking.

He’s learnt how painful and torturous your silence is. A punishment he’s not sure he could handle on such limited sleep.

Sighing, he blinks. Purposefully blanking his face, letting his eyes soften and settle.

Then he wills your eyes to meet his.

If you were anyone else, he’d command it. But that doesn’t work on you. Not unless he says it softly, not unless shards of him are breaking off and you take pity on him.

Look at me. Please look at me.

You don’t.

The scent of antiseptic, vanilla and blackberries meets his nose, mixing with the smell of blood, dust and death he’s brought with him.

He prefers your scent. A perfume he struggles to remove from his casual clothing and his bed sheets. Not that he complains. He’d never complain.

If he had his way, the scent would be burned into his skin. It keeps him rooted and reminds him of the truth in all the lies that his brain conjures when insomnia strikes.

Helen. Look at me.

You don’t. You’re too busy using all of your focus as you dress his wound. Your delicate fingers slide the bandage around his palm, silently judging, silently tutting as you work your magic.

He knows you’re pissed—before you start muttering and tutting. You weren’t half as gentle with the needle as usual. Not even muttering an apology when you’d stabbed it a little too hard.

If it weren’t inflicted on him, he’d have egged you on. Rather liking your conniving ways. On him, not so much. Even if he can tell, you’re getting some sick satisfaction from making him wince.

But he needs your eyes.

He’s missed them.

“Sweetheart…”

It comes out stern and quiet, but it forces your chin up. Those big beautiful eyes land on him, and they feel like the sun.

At first, they’re soft, all kindness and love. In one blink, they’ve shifted. Scolding him, attempting to peel back his mask and scorch his face.

Fuck, you’re beautiful.

“A rusty knife? Really, Simon?”

“Better my hand than my neck.”

You clamp your mouth shut, hiding insults and your wicked way with words from him. The fact you do annoys him more than the coward who tried to stab him.

“There’s a choice to choose neither, you know,” you whisper, continuing to bandage his hand, focusing on the bow. “Could come back to me with just bruising and cuts. That’s a choice too.”

You tighten the final part of the bandage more purposefully, him biting back a wince as you look up at him again. The anger softens, sadness replacing it. A look he instead fucking hates, even if he’s the one who put it there.

“I’m never leavin’ you.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” you say, pushing back on the wheels of your chair for more distance, “Because if you considered it, I’d hunt you down. Hell or high water, I’d find you. And, let me make this crystal fucking clear, Simon Riley. I am both.”

He wants to lift his mask.

Show you the prize of his smile.

But he can’t risk it. Not here, not in the middle of your medical room that people barge in and out of.

It doesn’t matter how often the two of you try to steal moments; life has a way of ripping them from your grasp. But it doesn’t stop him from trying.

Instead, he grabs your leg, pulling you, pleasantly surprised you don’t fight him as you wheel between his legs. Your annoyance is painted as clear as day, his fingers releasing your leg before resting on your knee.

“Understood,” he says, drawing a soft circle against your knee. Watching you, watching him. A moment, between all the others, where it’s just the two of you. “Go eat, Helen.”

“I’m fi—“

He squeezes your knee, silencing you. Staring at you to remind you he knows you. Knows that you haven’t eaten two meals a day, never mind three. That he’s had people check on you, ask about you.

That in his own fucking way, he cares, so let him care. Let him take care of you.

You swallow as if realising this. As if the two of you are in the middle of a conversation, you’re both having with your eyes.

He wins.

The only way he knows that is from the sweet little groan you give him as he returns to drawing a circle on your knee.

“Sometimes, Simon. I really can’t stand you.”

“Feelings mutual, Helen.”

You remove your glove, placing your hand gently over his. It’s warm, gentle and yet calloused in its own way.

And he should tell you to leave.

Tell you to get food before you’re left with scraps you’ll complain to him about later. But this is nice. It’s comforting. It’s something he can’t genuinely articulate and is glad you don’t ask him to try.

And then, you hand him his glove. The one stained scarlet and still damp with his blood.

He nods.

You nod.

The two of you send the other a look which has become close to a parting kiss, without you both touching. One that will have to do until he can really kiss you later. Until he can remind every inch of your skin that he came back, that he’s alive. He’ll do so, silently promising too, until you’re chanting his name to the point he realises this isn’t a dream, but reality.

A beautiful, unexplainable reality.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost Riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost riley #Helen x Simon #ghost cod mw2 #cod ghost #ghost x helen #simon x helen

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waffles-art-writing · 1 year

Text

Forgotten Keys - Soap Mactavish x Fem! Reader

Summary: Off duty, it’s nearly christmas and dog sitting? Feeding a mangy mutt which ends up with you locked outside your own home, no way to get inside unless you want to kick your door in, which you don’t want to deal with. No phone, no keys, trip to town on foot you guess. Sudden near miss and a yelling match with a stranger, another man who comes to diffuse the situation, you soon come to realise who that man is.

(There may be a part two if wanted lol)

Got inspo by another fix that someone wrote, it was a Reader x Ghost though and they bumped into each other at the supermarket. Please if anyone knows who wrote tell me so i can credit them for giving me inspo!

Proofread: Somewhat

Pairing: Soap x Fem!Reader

WordCount: 3K-ish

Age Rating: PG 13

Codename: (You Choose :) )

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name, C/N - Codename.

Warning/Info: Slow Burn, Cursing, Fluffy Fluff! Sweet and Gentle Soap, Lime (a bit of a spicy make out sesh)

——————————————

It’s cold in Scotland.

Obviously.

It is only a few thousand Kilometres from the North Pole.

You moved here just before joining the military, only because your uncle and aunt needed some help with the small farm they had. You quickly fell in love with the small village, it was a town bordering England and Scotland. Duns. Small town, the type of town where everyone knows everyone through someone else, not unusual for a small Scottish town. You could walk your dog and be greeted by at least five people that knew you, or they know you through someone else. Even if you live a couple minutes out of town on a farm, at least someone will say Good Morning of some sort. Kinda nice but somewhat weird if you dive into the connections deep enough.

You roll out of bed, knowing you have to get up, knowing you have basically nothing in the pantry, maybe a bag of potato chips.. Maybe? And some Coffee and tea. You do know that there is beer in the fridge, only a few bottles, maybe something frozen in the freezer? And the box full of essentials your aunt and uncle gave you when you got back. But god you couldn’t remember what there is, the day you got the call that you were needed for a mission with the 141 you practically gave all your food to your neighbour just down the street or your uncle and aunt. You don’t live far out of town, maybe a ten to fifteen minute walk? Basically a 10 minute walk to the golf course on the other side of the farmland your property backs onto. It’s nice out here but, if you wanted to go get food you gotta drive or you could risk freezing your tits off. Enough wallowing in bed, while the birds outside chirp, and the sound of the neighbours dog barking next door. You gotta feed it, they have gone away for the holidays and asked for you to feed it before their coworker? Friend? Who knows, shows up to take it with them. Which is today hopefully.

After pulling on some fuzzy socks on your feet, some random pair of cargo pants, and a hoodie. You head downstairs, you wander into the kitchen, the tiles cool under your sock wrapped feet. You fill the kettle with water and put it on to boil, you rub the sleep from your eyes as you look out the large window just above the kitchen sink where you can see your back garden and farmland past that. Another howling bark sounds out to your right, making you groan as you trudge to the front door, slipping on your already caked in mud rain boots, taking the heavy winter coat off the hook and adventuring outside into the crisp air of the winter morning. You trudge your way across your driveway, stomping through the snow, trying your best to avoid the ice underneath. You reach the side gate that leads into the back yard, you set out to find the key that's now buried under a few inches of snow and the doormat. “Fuck sakes…” you grumble as you kick the snow away, not wanting to take your hands out of your pockets.

Bark, Bark, Yap.

“Oh my god. Shut up!” You spit out to the small dog on the other side of the door, the small curly haired dog is bouncing around like some child on a sugar high on their birthday. You manage to find the key, quickly unlocking the door to let the dog out. Not caring if it freezes to death at this point, you manage to feed the mangy mutt without a problem and lock it back inside the house. Putting the key under a plant pot so it's easier to get if you need some reason to go back in there. Whoever it is that's supposed to take the dog is coming to get it today, at like lunch? Afternoon? Who cares, you don’t.

You trudge back to your place, almost landing ass first on the ice but catching yourself just before you hit the hard ground. You groan as you go to open the door, expecting it to open. Nothing, you try again twisting the handle every which way, nothing. You kick the bottom of the door to see if it’s just stuck, nothing. “No, no no no.” You curse under your breath as you take off running to the side of the house, trying the side door, no success. Back door to no avail, you check to see if any of the ground floor windows are cracked open a touch, no luck. Nothing, no way in. Your windows upstairs are locked tight due to ice. “No! Fuck, shit. This can't be happening!” You check everywhere that you have left a spare key in the past, then it dawns on you. Spare key is in your car… your locked car, one covered in snow and ice. Yeah that shitbox that's sitting happily in your driveway, taunting you with the key sitting in the cup holder of your middle console. Your face is pressed up against the glass, tears of anger, annoyance and stress form in your eyes as you slide down the side of your car. You would prefer to get shot over this any day.

You sigh as you stand up, dusting off the snow from your pants.

Your mission; get to the locksmith in town, get help, get five spare keys made to hide around your property, hot shower then drink your day away then sleep. Good Mission.

You trudge your way to town, your feet occasionally sliding on the road, the slight hill your home sits on doesn’t help. The occasional car goes past, in the wrong direction of course. Your hood is up, shoulders to your ears, hands shoved deep into your pockets. “Fuckin’ worst break ever” you curse as you start walking past more houses, families happily inside, warm and cozy, watching cringy christmas movies, sipping hot tea or hot chocolates. While you’re stuck outside on a sunny but cold winter's day, trudging to town in rubber rain boots, cargo pants that aren’t that warm, only a hoodie and jacket to keep you warm from the cold's sharp bite.

You pass a couple that is walking their dog, happily chatting, beanies and gloves, probably fuzzy socks as well. You huff as you turn the corner, seeing the market square come into view. Your soul desire is to just get to the gas station that's just past the market square. No wallet on you either, so there’s no possible way you could get a hot drink for the road. The smell from the bakery floods your nose, the sound of christmas carols, folk songs and whatever else there is playing sounds out from the small stores around the square. Kids laughing and screaming, parents talking as their kids play in the snow, all wrapped up from head to toe in warm clothing.

You finally make it to the gas station, almost. You look both ways before crossing the road, being careful to walk where there doesn’t seem to be ice, your feet slip on the ice ever so slightly. You see someone coming around the corner, mere yards from you, you're quick to throw yourself to the curb knowing the car won’t stop. You push yourself to your feet, whipping around to confront the dickhead who nearly ran you over. “What the hell man! Look with your fucking eyes!” You scream as you see a man step out of his car that is now poorly parked on the side of the road, its front tire on the curb. “Ya the one who should be lookin’ where she's going!” He barks back. You stand your ground and clench your fist.

“Maybe quit lookin’ at yer bloody phone and pay attention to the world around you, you think you're so big hotshot? Pull yer head outta ya arse and learn to drive!” “Oh shut it girly! Ya sure can’t say shit, yer the one walkin’!” “Oh why you little-” “Oi! Hey! Cut it out, what the hell are ya screaming about?” Another man’s voice cuts through. Your eyes are trained on the man in front of you, you're seething, you're holding back the urge to deck this man right here and now is powerful. “How about you just back off mate, get your arse back in your car and go home.” The new man growls out as he stands next to you, you watch as the idiotic driver looks from the other man to you. “Bet you can’t do shit even if you tried.” You raise your brow as you step forward about to lunge at the man, he’s short and stocky, you could take him. Arms wrap around your waist as you scream at the man who’s backing away to his car. You spit out any insult you can think of as you fight against the arms around you. “Aye, Lass calm down. He’s about to cry if you keep this up.” You freeze in your squirming to bash the man's head in. The arms that are around your waist loosen their hold on you, allowing you to turn to see who was holding you back.

Your eyes widen when you see the sky blue eyes, the mohawk and cocky smirk. “Soap?!” You gasp, wrapping the man in a hug. “It’s good to see you two Lass” he laughs as he holds you close, savouring your warm embrace.

“What the hell are ya’ doing here Mactavish?” You question as you let him go, looking him up and down. He’s clad in winter gear, better than what you have on, including some gloves. “Could ask you the same thing C/N” he smiles as he looks you up and down, his brows furrowing slightly at the state you’re in. “I live here, on the other side of town, a few minutes out” You shrug, temporarily forgetting why you're here in the first place. “Not surprised, but you don’t look that prepared to be walking the streets” he points out, motioning to your lack of cold weather gear. “Oh” you breathe out, your cheeks heating up, a strong contrast to the freezing temperature they were just moments ago. “This is gonna sound really stupid, I locked myself out of my house…” You chuckled nervously, finding the muddy snow beneath your boots a lot more interesting than the man in front of you, he laughs, it makes you smile as you start chuckling with him.

“How the hell did you manage that?” He chokes out while laughing. “Feeding the neighbours mangy mutt” you groan, “I forgot to bring the keys with me, and muscle memory kicked in and locked the door from the inside before closing it” you sigh. Soap shakes his head, placing a hand on your shoulder, “and you walked all that way here?” “Yep.” “Christ Lass, let me give you a ride at least” you shake your head as you walk with him towards the gas station. “No, no. It’s okay. I was just gonna ask the guy who works here who is also a locksmith to give me a ride and help me” you smile at the man next to you. “Lass, I don’t want you to waste your money on something that I can help you with.” You look at Soap with an awkward smile. “… you left your wallet as well didn’t you?” You nod your head, “and my phone…” you mumble under your breath as you notice him stopping at what you would guess is his car. A nice Jeep Wrangler. “God you are a numpty ain’t ya? Take this, go get yourself something warm” he states as he hands you a few notes of cash. You look at the money in his hand, looking back up at him. “Just take it before you starve to death.” He grabs your hand and slaps the money in it, making sure you are holding it properly. “Do you want anything? It is your money Soap…” he shakes his head as he starts fueling the vehicle. “Go get yourself something Lass, I’ll be there shortly.” He nods his head towards the building of the gas station. “O-Okay” you state as you make your way to the building, sighing when the warm air meets your frozen skin.

You’re still standing in front of the pie warmer when Soap walks in, he chuckles lightly, walking up behind you wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Still looking Lass?” He looks down at you, noticing you holding the money close to your chest. “C/N?” His voice now low as he nudges you slightly. “I don’t know which one to get…” you mumble as you stare at the hot savouries in front of you. Soap grabs a pie, steak and cheese, no surprise there. He grabs another one, the one you like most. “There, done. C’mon” he pulls you gently by the hand to the counter. You attempt to pay with the cash Soap gave you but he beats you to it with his card, paying for the food and gas quickly. You two leave thanking the workers. “Here’s the cash since I didn’t use it” you hold the cash out to the Scotsman, he looks at you with a smile, gently pushing your hand away. “Keep it, I don’t need it. Now get in before you freeze.” You sigh as you get into the passenger side, thankful to be in the warmth.

The drive to your place is short, filled with chatter as you talk about plans for the holidays. Soap is planning on just driving around, having some time to himself away from the busy life of family before going to his cousin's place for Boxing Day, only a few hours away from your town. Christmas Day is just by himself this year. You’re having a calm Christmas with your Aunt and Uncle, your half sister coming up with her husband and her kids for Boxing Day from Alnwick over the border in England, and the annual family call. You continue chatting while you eat your pies, sitting in your driveway before Soap gets to work on unlocking your house for you.

“There we go, you’re in.” He smiles as he stands up, placing the small tools back inside the glove box. You sigh in relief as you push the door open further, making sure it's unlocked. “Thank you so much Soap!” You wrap your arms around his shoulder, thanking him with a hug. His arms wrap around your waist bringing you closer, a smile on his face. “Any time Lass.” You pull back, your hands resting on his shoulders, his hands still on your waist.

You two have always been close when you joined the 141, you two kinda just clicked. Yes you got along with the others, but you two always had this way of just knowing if the other is off. Upset, angry, annoyed, tired, or just needing comfort. Yes sometimes you’d pass out on the couch together while watching a show, if one of you got too drunk the other was there to support them. If you were under the weather, Soap was always there to make you laugh or just give you company if you wanted it. You were like two peas in a pod, you didn't want to admit it to yourself, much less anyone else. But you did find Soap someone you could see yourself having a relationship with, you might even say you have a crush on him. You’d never admit that, you sure as hell wouldn't tell the very man that's in front of you that either. Even if you did, it might get in the way of your job, might even cause one fo you to join a different task force.

“Do… Do you wanna come in?” You ask softly as you let your hands slide off his shoulders, motioning into your home. Soap smiles as he lets go of your waist - albeit reluctantly - “If you don’t mind” you shake your head lightly, letting him walk in. You kick your boots off and hang your coat up, leaving them by the door neatly, Soap following your actions. “Nice place you’ve got here.” He states. None of the walls have photos, you never really cared to decorate as you're barely home, there's the old picture frame on the mantle above the fireplace. A fake plant on the dining table just off from the kitchen. “Thanks. It’s not much, but it's home I guess.” You state as you make your way into the kitchen. “Tea? Coffee?” Soap chuckles at this “I ain’t not Brit” “Oh shut it MacTavish” you both fall back into comfortable conversation, you making a cup of tea for yourself and Coffee for Soap.

You feel Soap come up from behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Soap?” You question quietly as you stand still, soaking in the warmth but confused by his sudden need to hold you. He doesn’t reply, you can see his reflection in the window. He’s watching you through the reflection, you smile softly when you make eye contact, his grip tightens slightly. “Johnny… You can call me Johnny” he mumbles into your hair, you hum in response. You turn around in his arms, bringing your hands up to his jaw, his stubble rough against the palm of your hand. “What’s wrong Johnny?” You ask quietly, unsure what’s gotten him so quiet suddenly. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed, he's tired, exhausted, drained. His hands rest on your hips, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into the fabric of your pants, he's fidgeting. You gently trail the hand he isn’t leaning into down his arm to rest over one of his own, you step to the side slowly, guiding him upstairs. He follows behind you, letting you lead him through the house, upstairs is darker than the rest of the house, the curtains still drawn in your room, a small amount of sun filtering through the small gap. You pull him towards your bed, the covers still a mess from you getting up earlier in the day.

You’re laying on your bed, Soap wrapped around your abdomen, head nestled into your neck. Your hand combs through his mohawk, nails gently running across his scalp. His arms are securely wrapped around you, his grip not faltering. “Johnny?” You whisper, nervous to break the comfortable silence. “Mmh?” He mumbles into your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Would you like to stay…” you pause, sighing as you push down the nerves. “Would you like to stay with me, like over the holidays, till you gotta go to your cousins?” Your heart races, waiting for his reply. Did you just fuck everything up? Did you read into this friendship wrong? Did his lingering touches mean nothing? “Gladly, only if you're sure ya can put up with me that is.” He chuckles softly, his arms pulling you closer.

“If this is what we do everyday then I’m sure I can” you giggle as you feel him nuzzle your neck, your hands finding purchase on his shoulder, attempting to push him away gently, his stubble tickling your neck. You open your eyes when you feel him pull away, he’s looking at you, a small smile on his face. Not a smirk, not a teasing smile or a shit eating grin. A happy, content smile. One of his hands cups your jaw, his eyes glancing between your eyes and your lips, his silent question dancing in his eyes.

There’s mere inches between you, he closes the gap, his lips locking onto yours. Gentle, caring, loving kiss. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him as close as possible, not wanting this euphoria to end. He leaves you breathless when he pulls away to allow you to breathe. “Are you okay with this Y/N?” You answer his question by pulling him back into the kiss, heavy and heated, still passionate and loving.

Your tongues dance, the desire to taste the other overwhelming. His hand holds your waist, fingers dancing under your hoodie. He pushes you into the bed, supporting himself on his left forearm. You moan into his mouth when he slides his hand up your side. “Fuck, you taste like heaven Lass” he mumbles into the kiss, his mind a jumbled mess. Yours not much different, your hands run down his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt. “Johnny- fuck. I didn’t think you liked me like this” you chuckle as he kisses your jaw, his hand that's under your hoodie slides up your back.

Bringing you closer to his chest, he kisses your neck. “I thought you weren’t interested in me, but I guess we were both wrong.” he chuckles as he feels your hands trace his taut muscles. You smile as he lifts his head, he looks at you with soft, loving eyes, with a genuine smile as he commits everything he sees in front of him to memory.

“Will you be mine, Lass?” Your eyes widen, so does your smile. “Yes, of course” Soap seals it with a kiss, his hands bringing you as close as possible, your own arms wrapping around his shoulder, hands running through his mohawk.

A/N: Ugh i want this man so bad ughhhh

#soap x y/n #soap x you #soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x reader #soap call of duty #fanfic #x y/n #slow burn #soap fluff #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod fanfic

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moorishflower · 1 year

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Hi! I absolutely loved 'Those who have yet to decide'. I've read it three times and want to read it again. My friend sent the fic to me and I was floored at the beautiful descriptions, but also establishing a new, profound love for Hob in makeup and a corset. This line will forever make me crack up because it's so accurate. Woof to Hob in a corset! I wish I could see it in live action haha. I can hear it in Boyd's voice actually. I love how you wrote this Corinthian.

“Check out these tits, my lord,” the Corinthian says; Dream did not refashion him to have any sense of propriety or good timing, and he regrets this now, immeasurably. “Woof. Bark bark, am I right?”

It was sensual and made me all tingly. I loved how Hob was waving his bi flag proudly and as a bi man myself I salute him. It was just such a brilliant fic and I'm so happy you shared it with us.

I have a read almost everything you have written and I was hoping I could make a small request. Something short and sweet. Could I ask for you to write Hob taking Dream out on a date, strolling through the city at night? Honestly I have no plot idea for you because anything you write will be amazing.

I hope you are well and happy new year to you! I wish you all the happiness and success this year ahead :) (I just saw now that my fave fic is getting a sequel. I'm jumping up and down from happiness!! I'm sat and ready for this!)

Bi Hob means a LOT to me. Bi characters in general mean a lot to me! It's so fuckin important that they're included in any discussion of queer history and queer acceptance, because they, along with like, hetersexual aromantic/heteroromantic asexual people and also hetero trans men/trans women, are very frequently excluded from under that umbrella and it's not fucking right because who you are doesn't change based on who you're dating or fucking and bisexuality isn't just a "cry for attention" or "playing it safe" and I just get very irked by the whole disk horse about it. Which is to say I am SO glad that you liked the fic. <3<3<3

The "sequel" to Those who have yet to decide is now up! It's called "Ab instrumento ad corpus" and it's uh 27k l o l.

Short and sweet short and sweet hmmmm

"Dream!" Thunk. "I know you're up! I can see your light on! Please, Dream, I just want to talk, let me explain..."

It is 11:30 in the evening, and Dream has, for the last fifteen minutes, been listening to the steady tap of stones pelting against his bedroom window. The sound is not unlike hard rain, and if it weren't for the increasingly frantic voice accompanying each volley, he might be able to turn over and accept it as yet another piece of white noise in the background of his room, slotting neatly into place beside the fan whirring by the closet and the gentle hum of his desktop, the water rushing through the pipes in the walls, the clink of ice from the kitchen as Del fetches herself her customary glass of midnight orange juice.

But the voice cannot be ignored. Easier, he thinks, to ignore the sun, to ignore gravity. To ignore the pounding of his own heart, the lurid thud against his ribcage. He manages to hold out for a further, and remarkable, thirty seconds, before there is a sound from below his window that is not a whispered call, and is not a rock pattering against the glass. It is, to his horror, something more like a sob.

He is out of bed and to the window before he has even fully processed his own intention, fingers fumbling numbly for the latch. A bevy of tiny stones litter the ledge of the roof outside, and yet more have trundled down into the gutter, which he can see if he leans outwards, which he does now.

"Hob Gadling," he says severely. Tries for 'severely.' Fears that he has fallen far short, somewhere in the territory of 'desperate.' "Cease your hysterics at once and tell me what do you want?"

The figure that is sat upon the lawn below his window, miserably hunched with his face pressed into his gangling knees, has hair like petrified wood, smooth and glossy and dark redwood brown. When the sunlight hits it perfectly it highlights coronas of sublime amber, all streaked and brilliant and falling in lose waves to cover apple-blushed cheeks and the decent beginnings of scruff along his chin. His chin has a darling cleft in it, which he had once told Dream was a source of some embarrassment for him, and which Dream had told him ought not to worry him, as people would not be looking at his chin, but at his eyes. Hob had assumed he was being quite literal -- had laughed, in the way he has when he isn't certain if laughter will be welcome, but is unable to help himself -- but what Dream had meant was that Hob's eyes were like molten gold, like the beating core of the universe, like sundogs flaring in summer, warm and liquid and arresting to heart and mind.

Hob does not look warm, nor arresting, at this moment. He looks like a seventeen year-old boy sitting in a quarter-inch of snow, slowly soaking through his denims, lifting his head to reveal red-rimmed eyes and damp cheeks. Dream refuses to let the sight stir his heart to pity. He refuses.

"What do you want?" he repeats, and Hob scrambles to his feet, slipping and sliding in frost. He is holding some sort of bundle in one hand, Dream realizes -- in the dark, where it had lain beside him, it had not been obvious. Is still not obvious, but is now undeniably there.

"To apologize," Hob says, and Dream narrows his eyes.

"I am not interested. In your apologies. I do not need you, Hob. I do not need friends. I certainly do not need friends like you, and furthermore --"

"Dream will you just shut up for five seconds? For five bloody seconds while I try to explain?"

Dream shuts his mouth. Inhales, deeply, as his therapist has taught him, and counts to ten. Exhales slowly.

"I am listening," he says. Fury and desire trembling in his breast, vying for control of his heart.

Hob, also, is breathing deeply. There are high spots of color upon his cheeks, and his eyes shine with intensity, and not only wavering tears.

"I'm lonely, too," he says, and Dream holds on to the windowsill. As though by doing so he might prevent himself from flying apart. His knuckles, already pale, turn tea rose pink, and then bloodless white beneath the pressure. "If you'd have let me finish before storming off like a prick, I could've told you that I'm lonely, too. And, and the only time I'm not lonely is when I'm with you. Every room that you aren't in feels empty. The house feels empty. All I want, every minute of every sodding day, is to be right next to you, whatever you're doing, whether you're studying or reading or writing, or, or watching birds. I'd watch birds with you for hours, Dream. I'd pick that over footie, or porn, or..."

"Charming," Dream says. Feels the frost that wafts along the winter night against his neck, and feels the heat blooming under his skin all the same, warding it away. Hob pushes his hand back through his hair, messing it thoroughly, giving him a rakish and dangerous silhouette that makes Dream's heart beat uncomfortably loudly in his ears.

"I'm serious, Dream. I don't. I'm not good with words, the way you are. But I know what I feel, all right? And what I'm trying to say is that I love you. I love you, you dense prick, I'm in love with you, I'm fucking mad with it and if you want me to climb Nelson's Column and shout it from the top I'll fucking do it!"

"Please do not risk legal action for my sake," Dream says. His heart, already rabbit-fast, has elevated itself to speeds normally reserved for jets. It soars in wild loops through the spaces between his ribs. He feels as though he is flying. He feels as though he is going to start hyperventilating. Hob gazes up at him from the lawn, the snow a blanket of cream-white tulle that he scuffs with the tips of his Docs, rucking it up like a sleeper's blanket until Dream can see the still faintly-green grass beneath. The seat of his denims is soaked through, and his hair is a wild bird's nest, and his nose is red, and blotchy, and in the winter silence Dream can hear his stuffy breathing. He sounds as though he is trying to inhale jello through a straw.

"Give me. Five minutes," he says, and Hob nods, and rubs his nose against his sleeve. Disgusting. Foolish. Stupid.

Dream fetches his jacket from the back of his desk chair, slips on his Uggs without bothering with socks, and stuffs a scarf and some gloves into his pockets before he creeps downstairs. The night is blessed: Del has returned to her room, and neither his mother nor father are up. Not even Desire, who seems to sense gossip in the way that homing pigeons can orient themselves towards their nests, is awake. Dream deactivates the alarm on the door to the kitchen and steals outside, into the frigid night.

Hob is there, waiting for him. He has left a shuffling trail of disturbed snow in his wake, and is not dressed at all for the weather, with only his customary jean jacket as any protection. His breath puffs into the darkness in clouds of frost-ringed fairy floss, and the tears on his cheeks glisten like they, too, might turn to ice. When Dream nears, he thrusts out the bundle that he has been cradling. Up close, it resolves into a carefully-wrapped conical shape, swaddled in layers of silver and blue tissue paper.

"Didn't want it to get wet," Hob mutters. The red at his cheeks has spread downward, inching along his neck. Dream takes the bundle, and carefully peels its thin exoskeleton back.

"Oh," he says. Hob scuffs his boots into the snow.

"The lady at the shop thought I was mental," he mutters. "Said nobody pays attention to flower meanings anymore and it was going to be the ugliest bouquet, and I said he cares, and if I get him something as prosaic as roses he'll spit in my face."

"I would never," Dream says, momentarily distracted from the beauty of the bouquet in his hands.

"Yeah, but you'd want to."

Dream huffs, and his own breath joins Hob's, mingling clouds of crystalline vapor. He strokes his fingers through the flowers, all bundled and tight within their wrapping. "Heliotrope," he says softly, "for undying love. Forget-me-not, for faithfulness. Aster?"

"Yeah, she said it stood for patience. 'Cause I will be. I'll wait for you, as long as you need me to. If you need me to wait 'til you come back from uni, or until we're both eighteen or twenty or thirty, or..."

"Hob," he says, and Hob stops, his teeth chattering gently. At some point within the last minute their eyes have caught, and Dream cannot look away. Hob's eyes are honey, thick and sweet and gleaming with inner light, and Dream digs haphazardly into his pocket. Retrieves his scarf, and holds it out.

"You are freezing," he says, and Hob starts.

"I'm fine."

"Do not be dense. Put on the scarf."

There's a quick flash of a smile, just enough to show a hint of teeth, white and gently crooked, and Hob takes the scarf without further protest. He winds it around his neck, and buries his nose into the dense cashmere, inhaling. Dream's heart kicks like a startled mule, and the heat in his skin travels downwards. He keeps his hand extended, and Hob, his fingers buried in the scarf, looks at him quizzically.

"I have heard it is impolite to keep one's boyfriend waiting," he says, and the smile, which before had been only a hint, blooms spectacular and free across his face. "Walk with me."

"Anywhere you want," Hob says, and, fingers warmed from the huff of his own breath, tucks his hand into Dream's.

#dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #not the highschool AU that you want but the highschool AU *I* want #which is to say teenage pining no highschool #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #my fic

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zablife · 2 years

Text

A Simple Life

Summary: Jack Nelson's domestic situation is complicated.

Author's Note: A quick blurb I wrote about Jack's exploits. I don't want to give too much away, but this is an idea I've been thinking about for a long time.

Warning: Mention of cheating

You smiled as you listened to the dinner conversation between your oldest child and your husband. Patrick was explaining why he should have a paper route and Jack was listening quietly, pretending he had to be persuaded while he secretly enjoyed the idea. Jack loved the fact that Patrick showed ambition at such a young age. He liked to think of Patrick following in his footsteps, continuing the family business one day.

When they were through discussing the details, Mary spoke up next. “Daddy, my dance recital is…”

“The fourteenth. I know, baby. I wouldn’t forget something that important,” Jack smiled at his youngest child. She had started ballet lessons this year and it was of the utmost importance to have her father attend her end of the year recital. “I’ll be back from my trip the Monday before, hmm?” He said standing up from the table. She nodded eagerly, eyes shining brightly back at her father. It was clear she adored him.

Taking his cue, the twins stood as well, rushing to Jack shouting, “Is it time? Is it time?”

Jack let out a hearty laugh, “Yeah, it’s time. Help your mother clear the dinner plates and I’ll turn on the radio.” Their favorite program was coming on in fifteen minutes and they were eager to listen. You and Jack would sit on the sofa as the children played on the floor. Patrick would sometimes ask Jack to play chess, but he didn’t this evening. It was a quiet night and you enjoyed snuggling under Jack’s arm after finishing the dishes. He rubbed slow gentle circles into your shoulder and you hummed contentedly along with the music.

Later as you tucked the children into bed, Jack watched you with a proud look. He placed a kiss to the top of your head as you pulled the door closed and you both slipped quietly down the hall to your bedroom.

“I have to pack my bag and get a car tonight. I’m sorry, doll,” he said apologetically. You frowned and he captured you in his arms kissing you passionately. “When I get back we’re gonna have one helluva reunion, though,” he said smirking at you with that charm you loved so much. You nodded, peppering his face with kisses before helping him pack a bag.

You waved him off from the front porch, pulling your cardigan around your body in the chilly night air. For the next two weeks you would only receive sporadic phone calls to ease your loneliness, but Jack always made up for it when he returned.

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An hour later, Jack got out of the taxi and paid the driver. Stifling a yawn, he retrieved his suitcase and found his keys. He opened the door to the house and kicked off his shoes as quietly as possible which was hard considering the dog came to greet him as soon as he entered. “Shh, quiet boy,” he scolded softly.

He tiptoed into the master bedroom and undressed quickly, slipping under the covers. He slid behind her and nuzzled his nose into her sweet smelling hair waking her gently. She roused slowly and turned with a smile, “Baby, you’re home!” she said with obvious delight.

“Yeah, made it back a day early. I told you I would, kitten,” he cooed at her. Rubbing a hand over her stomach he asked, “How’s the baby?”

“Fine, we’re just fine, daddy,” she said sweetly.

“And, Andrew, how’s he sleeping these days?” he asked of his two year old son.

“He’s doing better…God, I’m just so glad you’re home,” she said, turning in his arms to give him a welcome home kiss. “Please don’t be gone so long next time,” she pouted.

“Baby, you know I have to. Work is rough right now and you like living in this house, right?” he said massaging her arms.

“I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. You work so hard for us,” she said. “Let’s go to sleep. I promised Andrew I’d take him to the park tomorrow,” she said with a yawn. "Can you come with us?" she asked hopefully. Jack nodded and she squealed.

Jack tucked her under his arm and felt her drift off to sleep as he wondered how he had gotten himself in so deep when all he ever wanted was a simple life.

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Tag list: @retromafia, @shelbydelrey, @daddyjack-nelson, @theshelbyslimited, @kittycatcait219, @peakyrogers, @renderedspeechless, @slytherisstuff, @violaobanion

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Jack Nelson fanfic #Jack Nelson imagine

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zhongster · 1 year

Text

hi hi guys my friend and i wrote a lil steddie fic together and i thought you guys would appreciate it considering all the Eddie requests I’m currently working on hahaha

The stuff i wrote is in blue and the stuff they wrote is in green :)

THIS IS KINK CONTENT, DON’T READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT

Steve and Eddie had boarded their flight to hawaii for the week, Wayne had bought them tickets for their anniversary and said they needed to get out of hawkins for once. Eddie took the middle seat since it was his first time flying and was to scared to look out the window, he told steve it was because hethought he would get sucked through if he got to close.

A middle aged old fashioned lady sat next to them opening a book before take off while Eddie fidgeted in his seat. He was very nervous. Steve flown before he knew this wasn't as bad at Eddie thought. The flight had taken off and had been in the air for 30 minutes. Eddie was able to rest until he woke up with an uncomfortable feeling in his belly, he felt it rumble under his clothes and he put his hand on it to rub gentley. He didn't feel airsick, he just felt bloated with air. He moaned a bit laying his head on Steve’s shoulder while Steve slept.

Eddie tried to fight off the persistent gurgling in his stomach but he knew he wouldn't be able to fight it forever. He kept feeling air bubbles rise up his chest but he was persistently forcing them back down into his stomach. This tactic was working until a larger one came up. Eddie saw it coming, however, so he quickly decided to press it into a sleeping Steve's shoulder. He managed to muffle it enough to where the lady next to him didn't hear but it was loud enough to wake Steve. "Hey babe, you okay?" he asked

Eddie groaned softly before looking at Steve with his doe eyes. "My belly feels tight.” Eddie says to him quietly.

“I need to burp but I don't want everyone to hear." He said again, he unbuckled his seat belt to let his belly breath a little bit.

Eddie didn't know where this sudden pressure came from but it was uncomfortable.

"Okay baby can you keep pressing them into my shoulder? Steve suggested, "that seemed to muffle it the first time."

Eddie nodded and laid his head back on Steve's shoulder. Another burp rose up Eddie's chest and he did as he was told and muffled it into Steve's shoulder. Steve rubbed his back in silent support. Nobody around them seemed to notice. So far so good. The next few burps came up without anyone but Steve noticing but eventually one that was bigger than all the rest decided to show itself. Eddie pressed this one into Steve's shoulder too but it was a lot more audible that the rest. The lady beside him let out a quiet "oh" of surprise.

"Steve" Eddie whined, near tears.

He was completely mortified.

Steve ran his fingers through Eddie's hair giving him a gentle kiss on his forehead, "You doing okay baby?” He whispered.

Eddie tried to shake it off hoping the next few burps will be easy to muffle again Eddie moaned as he felt another pocket of air rush up from his stomach he let out a loud belch before beinf able to muffle it into Steve shoulder. The lady next to them looked over at Eddie giving him a look.

Embarrassment overwhelmed Eddie, he got up and excused himself to the restroom.

Before Steve could catch up to him, Eddie had already shut and locked the bathroom door behind him. Steve knocked on the door, "Eddie, honey, you alright?”

The only response Steve got was a loud belch from the other side of the door. "Eddie please let me in, I can help you" Steve pleaded through the door.

The door remained shut for another fifteen seconds and Steve was beginning to think Eddie wouldn't let him in until the lock clicked and the door slid open. On the other side was Eddie looking up through his bangs at Steve, tears of shame gathered in his lashes.

Steve let out a quiet sigh after seeing Eddie. Normally Eddie could handle burping like this in front of people, he would even laugh it off, but this was different. Maybe the embarrassment of this being Eddie's first time traveling? Or something else. Steve shook his head and cupped Eddie's face "You're alright." He said quietly closing the door behind him, shutting them both inside the tiny bathroom.

Eddie's lip quivered and two tears made their way down his cheeks. Steve reached up and wiped them away before kissing Eddie on the forehead. "Here, how about this?" Steve declared, digging through the pocket of his jacket.

He pulled out his walkman and popped Eddie's Metallica tape into it. Steve then proceeded to place the headphones over Eddie's ears and press play. This way Eddie couldn't hear himself and wouldn't feel as embarrassed. Steve pulled Eddie to his chest and guided the other man to lay his head on his shoulder. He then began to pat Eddie's back, coaxing up the air bubbles in his stomach.

Eddie let out a moan before belching loudly against Steve's chest, belching again. Steve patted Eddie's back as he burped. All this pressure being let out felt so good. Eddie continued to let out belch after belch he knew Steve was glad Eddie felt comfortable to release the pressure of his belly. That was until a knocking was heard against the bathroom door, Steve cracked it to see a flight attendant standing outside of it "Excuse me." She said "All that noise is disrupting the other passengers can I recommend some mint tea to calm your stomach?" she said trying to be polite as possible.

Eddie must've picked up on the fact that something was amiss because he pulled the headphones down and rested them around his neck. He looked up at Steve with a sort of deer-in-headlights look, silently begging Steve to tell him what to do. "Hang tight" Steve whispered and gave Eddie's hand a reassuring squeeze.

Steve slid the door all the way open and stepped out to face the flight attendant. "Mint tea would be great" Steve said with a saccharine smile.

"And also," he continued, cranking the charm up to ten "Would you mind giving us a minute in the bathroom, my friend isn't feeling well."

Obviously the charm worked because the flight attendant scurried off with a vicious blush creeping down her neck. Steve stepped back into the bathroom where Eddie sat on the toilet, desperately trying to suppress a surprisingly long closed-mouth belch. He looked up at Steve with a questioning glance and Steve answered him with a soft smile. "All taken care of" he said.

"Just keep letting them out" Steve encouraged, placing the headphones back over Eddie's ears.

So Eddie did. As the flight progressed towards their destination Eddie slowly but surely emptied his bloated stomach to the encouraging words of Steve and the dulcet tones of James Hetfield. By the time the plane landed Eddie was all smiles and seemed to be back to his usual demeanor.

As the couple disembarked from the plane Steve noticed the flight attendant from early fixing Eddie with a disgusted stare. Steve caught her gaze and sent his most sultry and seductive wink her way in order to get here eyes off of Eddie. As predicted, she scurried away in a fit of giggles and left the couple alone.

Satisfied, Steve turned back to his boyfriend “Come on babe, let’s get to the hotel.”

#burping #eructophilia #belching #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie

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fanfictrashdump · 2 years

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Universe in a Jar, 14 | Stephen Strange, Phase 4 fic

Recap: Some days ago, I reblogged this post about the magical trio. And then my brain went off on a monumental tangent and, I wrote Universe in a Jar.

Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki, Wanda Maximoff, Wong, Shang-Chi, Katy, Matt Murdock, Variant! Stephen, OC

Rating: T?

Summary: Baby-sitting beings arguably more powerful than him goes awry for Doctor Strange. He knows one person who can possibly keep them isolated and out of trouble. Well, he knew someone who could… he hasn’t seen them in decades and for stupid reasons.

Warnings: Language, the Blip, small-town folk, systemic racism, homophobia, fighting words, a whole new level of people-pleasing, and, of course, Stephen being Stephen.

Chapter Summary: Stephen remembers why he left his terribly claustrophobic hometown. The town, however, has a lot of gaps in its memory.

Previous Chapter

“Stephen–" The tone was more gentle annoyance than the irritation she was actually feeling at his reluctance.

“I’m just saying, it wold be easy enough for you to open a portal there. Fifteen minutes, in and out. The house is warded to the teeth and we’ve been so careful, Peep.”

His argument was just short of pleading and Persephone knew that if she deigned to look at him for more than a second at a time that she would meet his saddened blue eyes begging her to reconsider. And she would. Because that was what happened. Every. Damn. Time.

“We agreed, Stephen. We all agreed that magic was off-limits for the time being until Wong figured out what to do. You agreed.” Catching just a glimpse of the furrowed brow and dejected expression, she sighed. “I can’t drive with my arm broken.”

She followed his gaze to his hands. Amid shaking digits, he fingered the bare metal keys to the faded blue pick-up truck before them.

Stephen had been astounded the thing was still running. The pickup was bought off another farmer when he and Seph were about fourteen. Even back then the vehicle was considered old. He had driven it every day of his youth, from the moment he stopped stalling the manual transmission mid-drive to the second he moved away to New York.

He had taught Seph how to drive out in the old back roads where only truckers went by once every blue moon.

He had had his first kiss on the worn bench in the sweltering cab.

Actually, those two were the same day, minutes apart.

The machine was bulky, gas-guzzling, loud, cumbersome–everything he had strove to erase from his DNA with his fancy city degree and job. And yet, everything about that faded denim blue pickup truck made him ache for a life that might have been.

He wanted nothing to do with it.

“We need groceries, Stephen,” Peep remarked, already reading the protest in his expression. “Loki and Wanda will draw too much attention in town. Everyone knows everyone. It’s more believable that you came here and are, I don’t know, having the farm appraised to sell it than it is for two random strangers to pick this town to spend a couple of days.”

“I hate it.” He tore his gaze away from the truck and made a show of tossing and catching the keys with a scowl. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Without waiting for further comment, he walked around to the driver’s side, hesitating with his hand on the latch. Through the open window, he could tell the interior was still the same soft beige but the leather of the bench, once dry and cracked, had been replaced. It breathed new life into an otherwise decrepit interior, down to their initials, SVS and PAH, etched into a hidden crevice of the dash. He shuffled himself into the vehicle with a sigh a moment after.

“Does the clutch still stick?” The question sounded everything but routine as he voiced it.

“It does. Everything is more or less the same. I’ve just kept the old girl running.”

Twisting the key in the ignition, the truck roared into deafening life, rumbling deeply like a fantasy dragon. Driving the beast came back like riding a bike–muscle memory and knowledge of every quirk in the terribly maintained country roads. There was nothing but acres and acres of corn until they reached the small copse of buildings that were deemed ‘town’. They drove past the general stores, diner, pharmacy, and two-screen movie theater and up the main thoroughfare. The street was dotted with specialty stores that had not changed in façade since the last time he had been there more than twenty years prior. Everything painted in faded primary colors, as if pulled out of an old movie.

He pulled into a spot on the main street, feeling the eyes of every resident who never bothered to venture out of this god-forsaken town staring holes into his skull. He glanced at Seph, who had remained mostly quiet and was doing her best to look inconspicuous as she hopped onto the sidewalk by the grocer’s. Stephen sidled up to her, grasping her right hand out of well-practiced habit, another bit of muscle memory, and purposefully glared back at anyone watching.

“Good morning, Mr. Turner,” Seph called over the counter at the old man sorting light bulbs onto pegs behind the counter.

“Good morning, Seph. How are you today?” The man stopped his sorting just long enough to clock Stephen. “As I live and breathe. You managed to rope Steve Strange into town?”

“It’s for his own good.”

“I only threatened to jump off the lookout point, once,” Stephen quipped with a smirk, earning him a chuckle from the older man.

“It’s good to see you, boy. Seph, I got your butcher order prepared. I’ll get it for you when I ring you up. You know you have more than enough space to raise some livestock up at the farm.”

“I know, Mr. Turner. I just don’t have the hands for it. I already keep myself busy with the harvest and I don’t even grow that much.”

“Bat those pretty eyes at that boy and let him do the work.”

She glanced at Stephen and snorted. “I can beat him with a stick and he still won’t do it." She gestured to the same, stubborn man in question with her head. "Come on. Let’s get the basics and out of here before you break out in hives or something.”

Stephen snickered to himself, letting her drag him down the narrow aisles while he dutifully held the basket.

They were debating whether they needed two or three packs of Oreos to support Loki’s habit when a scoff went off loudly behind them.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the odd couple back together again.”

Stephen turned, immediately, rolling his eyes at the hulking figure sneering in their direction. The hand clinging to Persephone’s attempted to pull her form behind him to no avail. One look out of his peripherals, and he could tell that she had a similarly unfriendly expression on her face as his own. Some bullies never made it through their redemption arc, and even fewer did when they purposefully remained stuck in this tiny echo chamber of a town, he supposed.

“It is the 2020s and you are middle-aged. Are you really still clinging to that racist rhetoric?”

The man's left eye twitched. “She doesn’t know any better, bless her, but you’re smart enough to see you’re messed up, right Strange?”

Seph gripped him tighter. “Don’t. Don’t engage. Let’s just keep going,” she coaxed in a whisper, barely getting him to turn away and continue down the aisle to collect the remaining items from their list.

“How can you let him say shit like that to you?”

She sighed, throwing a bottle of lemon juice into the basket with a little more force than she intended. “He doesn’t bother me when I’m alone or with anyone else. It’s only with you, Stephen.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because I have your attention.”

Stephen’s frown deepened. “Wouldn’t it be that I have your attention?”

“Nope. I said what I said.”

Enlightenment brightened his features. “But he’s a bigot.”

“Who couldn’t stop talking about how scrawny and gangly you looked in the locker room shower, yes.”

He shuddered, glancing over his shoulder to find the man still following them around the store, though keeping his distance.

They made their way back to the front counter and smiled at the old man they had known forever. He was counting and adding in his head as he packed away the supplies. “What brings you back to town, Stephen?”

“Figured it was high time I looked in on the farm.”

Mr. Turner raised his eyebrows. “Looking to sell?”

Stephen hesitated. “No. No, I don’t think so. Might spend some more time here, actually.”

“Spend more time with the freak show.” The comment caused all three of them to groan quietly.

Seph giggled to herself. “If being Black is his definition of a freak show, he does not want to meet our friends.”

Stephen responded with a laugh of his own. “Loki would eat him alive.”

Their darling former classmate was not appeased with being ignored. “Why would you bring yourself down by hanging out with their kind?”

Stephen cracked his neck out of irritation. “Oh for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t stop, does he?”

“She’s nice and all, sure, but–“

Stephen had let go of Seph’s hand and turned on his heel. It had only taken a couple of strides to scoop up the plaid collar of the man’s shirt in his fists and pull him nose to nose, making the other gasp. There was something akin to fear in the man’s eyes but hidden beneath there was a certain degree of intrigue as dark eyes danced over the irate contours of Stephen’s face.

“Now’s your moment, Bobby. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? Me, away from Peep and giving you my undivided attention. Well, you got it. What do you want?” When he was met with silence he shook the man by the collar. “What do you want?”

“I… I don’t…”

“If you’re too much of a coward to act on what you want, that’s fine, but leave us the fuck alone, got it?” He pushed Bobby away as he released him, face still like thunder. “If I hear you calling Peep anything but her given name, I will make you regret it and not in any way you think,” he added lowly.

He glared for a second longer before turning back to the counter where Seph and Mr. Turner stood awkwardly, trying to decide if they should just ignore what was happening or not. Stephen grabbed the crate jammed with groceries off the counter and nodded at Mr. Turner. He barely paused long enough for Peep to say her goodbyes and scurry off after him.

“Have you known this was the reason he was a menace to you all this time?” He asked, loading the crate into the truck bed and slamming the tailgate shut.

“Um… yeah.” Apparently, it was a very well-known rumor.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to out a scared teenager. Especially since you didn’t learn the art of subtlety until fairly recently.”

“He would steal your stuff every two weeks out of your locker!”

“Yes, because he knew you would inevitably go up to him and call him names until he gave them back." She lowered her voice as an older couple slowed their walk to give them an odd look. "I don’t know if you’ve seen where we live but it’s not exactly the land of free expression.”

“So, you’d rather he make you miserable?”

“Was he awful? Yes. But I also relate to being isolated and scared of who you are. I’m not excusing him, I’m just saying there is a lot more to worry about than some name-calling.” She watched him bite back his words and opt, instead, for walking away in a huff. “Where are you going?”

“The feed store. I’m getting stuff for Bilbo,” he snapped back. He did not slow down at the sound of her steps pattering behind him to catch up.

“Why are you angry?”

“Because you don’t let anyone help you and you have the self-preservation instinct of a slug!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stopped, putting his hands on either of her shoulders and staring down at her with the intensity of a solar flare. “Stop bending over backwards for everyone but yourself. Loki, Wanda, Bobby, my parents, your mother, Matt, me–none of us need your protection at your expense. It’s not protection, it’s suicide via kindness and I’m not letting you kill yourself.”

“But–“

“I don’t love you because you’re useful, I love you because I love you.”

The words seem to have found their intended mark, seeing as she sat with them for several heartbeats. Her hazel eyes shimmered with unshed tears before she found it in herself to nod.

“The house, the wards, our emotions, Bobby, my parents–anything else I should know about?”

She nodded again and Stephen exhaled deeply.

“We’ll talk about it, later. First, let’s figure out what a fucking flerken is supposed to eat.”

They had emerged from the feed store with cat chow, dog chow, fox bait, and three ducklings. No one was quite sure how the ducklings had ended up in their possession, but they were back in the cab of the pickup, navigating decades old potholes and blind, hairpin turns with the quiet chirping of three babies roaming the bench seat between them. They had been immediately named Scaphold, Lunate and Capitate because they were small and bunched together much like the bones in the hand.

Stephen stopped the truck on the driveway of his childhood home, feeling a vaguely nostalgic sensation of déjà vu as he unloaded the crates of supplies from the back. Loki had run out to help Seph with the groceries while Wanda had immediately taken to herding the ducklings off to a corner of the barn where they could keep warm.

A few stabilizing breaths later, Stephen followed them inside, hopping onto the kitchen counter as he had done a million times before but feeling no less awkward at being there. He watched Loki and Seph flitter around the kitchen like a well-coordinated team to put things away and organize their new hideout.

Loki excused himself, sensing the unspoken heaviness of the room, and proclaimed that duck rearing was far too much responsibility for Wanda to undertake alone. Seph immediately made to follow, but was stopped from circling around by a long leg stretching between the counter and the center island. There was hesitation in her eyes when she connected their gazes, but Stephen had a genuine warmth to him that dissuaded her fear.

“Talk to me.”

Seph adjusted the scarf over her head and scuffed her boots on the sparkling linoleum floor. Her eyes followed because she couldn't just tell him this and look him in the eye. “Do you remember the blip?”

“Do I remember not existing for five years? No, but I remember coming back. Everyone does.”

Seph winced just out of sight. “Not everyone.”

“It happened across the world. How could anyone…” He hooked his index finger beneath her chin, tilting her head upwards. “Oh, Persephone, what did you do?”

Her eyes were glowing the same way they did when her powers were working. “It wasn’t on purpose. They were so scared.”

“You made them all forget? What happened when they came back?”

“They thought everyone was still here. So, when… when they…" Seph never finished the thought as she wanted to. The incident was a mess, everyone was terrified and she lost everyone. "The blip didn’t happen here.”

“You were the only one here who knew anything.” He hesitated. “Is there anything else? The kids you kept rescuing? Matt? Katy and the kid who hates me?”

“No. Nothing else, I swear.”

That she knew.

#mcu phase 4 #mcu fanfic #loki mcu #mcu wanda maximoff #mcu phase four #stephen strange #mcu doctor strange #doctor stephen strange #original female character #the most mundane chapter ever #Universe in a jar 14 #writing so i can forget the world fucking exists

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bxcketbarnes · 3 years

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Place in Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 6700+

Author's Note: So, this fic is extremely long. I apologize in advance. I also hope you guys enjoy it. I'm worried that it's not up to par but we'll see I guess 🥺🥰 It's loosely based on the song Place in Me by Luke Hemmings. Beautiful song. Uhm, slight enemies to lovers which is unusual for me. Let me know what you though!! xox

"Barnes and L/N, you'll be partnering up," Tony states, and your eyes widen a bit before glancing towards the ex-assassin.

You notice Bucky rolling his eyes while crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair he's sitting in. "Is that the best plan, Tony? We've never worked together," he questions the man.

"That's the whole point, Manchurian Candidate," Tony mumbles while wagging his finger between the two of you. "You two are the only ones who haven't been on a mission together, so."

You stay quiet as the older man sets the debriefing folder in front of you. Your eyes meet his and you notice a certain emotion swimming in Tony's eyes. He raises his eyebrows slightly and you nod your head.

"You two look those over and then get to the quinjet. It leaves in an hour and your asses better be on it," Tony mentions while walking away from the two of you.

Silence fills the room and you avoid looking at Bucky. Your heart pounds in your chest as a sigh leaves the man's lips. You instinctively lift your gaze towards him, seeing his blue eyes already on you.

Your breath hitches in your throat and you look away, clearing your throat. "So, uh, s-sorry you have to work with me," you mumble loud enough for him to hear.

Bucky tsks before standing up from his chair. Your chest clenches when he doesn't say anything to you, watching the super-soldier walk out of the room. A heavy sigh leaves your lips, glancing down at the files in front of you.

"He'll come around," Steve's voice fills the room and you jump slightly, turning in your chair to see the blonde leaning against the doorframe.

You shake your head at his words, tears pooling in your eyes. "I don't think he will, Steve. H-He'll talk to everyone else except for me? I… I don't even know what I did for him to hate me so much," you sigh, your fingers catching the tears that roll down your cheeks.

Steve walks further into the room and lays a hand on your shoulder. You chew on your bottom lip, breathing heavily through your nose to calm yourself. "He's jus- He's got a funny way of showing people he cares. I doubt he hates you, Y/N," the blonde reassures you, giving you a gentle squeeze.

"Coulda fooled me," you mumble before shrugging his hand off of you, standing up from your seat. "I have to go get ready."

You hold the files to your chest and walk out of the debriefing room, making your way to your quarters. Your lip trembles a bit as you continue to think about Bucky and his cold behavior towards you.

Once you're in the elevator, you let out a shaky breath before glancing at the ceiling. Tears continuously glide down your reddened cheeks and you try to shake the memories from your head.

"Let's just get this over with," you sigh to yourself as the doors open up. You pack all the essentials you'll need for the mission, double-checking that you've got everything before making your way to the quinjet.

You notice Tony standing at the end of the ramp as Bucky walks into the jet, a bag hanging off of his shoulder. "If you truly need to get away from Barnes, let me know okay?" Tony mumbles and you give him a tight-lipped smile, nodding your head in response.

"I should be okay, Tony. Thank you though," you whisper to him before walking onto the ramp of the quinjet.

"You guys got this. I believe in you," Tony reassures the two of you and the ramp proceeds to shut.

You sit as far away from Bucky as you can, fiddling with your fingers for a few minutes before pulling out your headphones. You rest your head against the headrest and decide to rest your eyes.

Bucky looks over at you and wishes that you weren't coming along. In his mind, this mission is way too dangerous for you. You're not a super soldier like him or Steve. You don't have a suit of armor like Tony or Rhodes. You don't have powers like Wanda.

You got your training from Natasha, and sure, Natasha has incredible skills that she learned from the Red Room. But, you're still human. A sigh leaves his lips and tears his gaze from you, deciding to make sure you don't get hurt at all.

"Holy shit," you mumble in amazement, looking around the hotel suite that Tony booked for the two of you.

Bucky walks in behind you, not saying anything as he brushes past you. You bite your cheek, your eyes following his figure as the super-soldier makes his way towards the bedroom.

You let out a slight huff of breath, running a hand through your hair. "I thought Tony mentioned there being two beds?" Bucky asks and your eyebrows furrow.

"That's what he said," you mumble while heading towards where he is. "Is there only on-"

"One bed? Yeah," Bucky cuts you off and you gulp, taking a peek into the bedroom to see one bed in the middle of it.

"I-Great," you whisper as the brunette lets out a heavy sigh. "Sorry, Bucky, I didn't-"

Bucky grunts before making his way towards the living area. "I'll take the couch," he states and you slowly close your mouth, the words dying on your lips.

"O-Okay," you whisper loud enough for him to hear, walking into the room you'll be staying in.

You press your lips together before shutting the door, putting some space between you and Bucky. I should've backed out immediately. You think to yourself while setting your bag onto the edge of the bed.

After unpacking your bag, you organize your things so they're easily accessible. You open the file Tony gave you, looking over the schedule of your target. "Aha!" You softly whisper, pointing at the paper while reading how your target generally goes to the restaurant right about now. "I could eat."

You open the bedroom door and step out of the room, looking around for your six-foot-tall co-worker. You furrow your brows at the space, wondering if he's still here or actually left. He'd tell me if he left… right?

Bucky,

I left to go get some food and a little intel on our target. Schedule says he's in the restaurant around this time. See you later.

Y/N

You place the written note near his things so he'll see it before grabbing one of the hotel room keys. You exit the room and make your way to the elevator before pushing the button. The doors open immediately and you step inside, pushing the button to the lobby.

"Hold the door!" A voice shouts and you stick your hand out, stopping the door from closing. "Oh, thank you so much."

"You're welc-" you cut yourself off as you look up at the man, your heart dropping into your stomach.

The man standing in front of you is Gabriel Price, the target you're currently after. The doors to the elevator close once more as the air around you grows thick. "You okay?" He asks and you snap your head up, your eyes meeting his cold ones.

"Y-Yes, sorry. I was… I was stunned by your beauty," you laugh nervously and the man smirks while fixing his tie.

A chuckle leaves Gabriel's lips and he looks down at you. "Well, thank you, darling. You're a sight for sore eyes, yourself," he winks and you bite your lip.

"I-Thank you, sir," you blush, wishing that the elevator would open right about now.

"Please, call me Gabriel," he corrects you before sticking his hand out.

Your eyes glance from his face to his hand before shaking it. "Nice to meet you, Gabriel. I'm Sylvie," you come up with a fake name.

The doors to the elevator open up and you drop his hand before leaving the small space. "I hope to see you around, Sylvie," he grins before walking into the restaurant.

You can feel your hands shake a bit and you let out a deep breath before fishing your phone out of your pocket. You dial Bucky's number, pressing the device to your ear.

"Pick up, please," you beg, your eyes looking around the place to see if the super-soldier is nearby.

When your call goes to voice-mail, you roll your eyes, not even deciding to leave him a message. You slide your phone into your pocket before heading into the restaurant. You notice Gabriel sitting with three other guys at a table near the corner as you walk over to the bar area.

"Hey, can I get some food to go?" You ask the bartender and the woman nods her head before grabbing her pen.

"Of course, sweetie. What can I get ya?" She asks with a smile.

Your eyes roam over the menu and decide to get something small for you and Bucky. "Uhm, can I get the fish and chips and a bacon cheeseburger with fries," you tell her and you watch the woman write it down.

"Absolutely. Do you want to bill that to your room?" She questions and you nod your head in reply, telling her the room you're in. "I'll put it in for you. Should be ready in about fifteen minutes."

"Perfect thank you so much," you smile as she turns to head towards the kitchen.

After stealthily watching Gabriel while waiting for your food, you finally make it back to your room. You balance the to-go boxes against one hand while grabbing the room key with the other, unlocking your door.

"Bucky?" You call out after shutting the door with your foot, taking a glance around the room in front of you.

"Yeah?" He mumbles and pokes his head around the corner of the wall, noticing the styrofoam boxes in your hands. "What's that?"

You furrow your brows and quickly wet your lips. "Did you not get my note?" You wonder and Bucky shakes his head. A sigh leaves your lips and you mutter to yourself, "figures."

Bucky picks the note you wrote from the table in front of him as you set the food onto the counter in the kitchenette. "Wait, was he there? The target?" The super soldier asks while walking towards you.

"Yup," you mention and hand the man his food, not meeting his gaze. "Actually met him in the elevator, but you would've known that if you answered your phone."

You brush past him, your shoulder bumping into his as you head towards your room. You stop just before entering the space before turning to face him, feeling the anger flow through your veins. "You know… next time you should just ask for a new partner if you don't want to work with me. No need to be a fucking coward and ignore me. That's how people get hurt, Bucky."

His blue eyes glance towards you just as you slam the bedroom door shut, leaving Bucky to his own devices. The brunette opens the take-out container, seeing a cheeseburger and fries sitting in it.

Bucky's phone rings loudly, snapping him from his thoughts and he pushes himself off of the counter before grabbing the phone.

"Hey, Steve," he answers after checking who it is, pressing the device to his ear.

"Buck," the blonde greets, and Bucky can hear Sam yelling in the background. "How’re things going?"

A sigh leaves Bucky's lips and he scratches the back of his neck. "Uhm, alright, I guess. It's been pretty tense between Y/N and I," he informs his best friend while eating a couple of fries.

"Well, have you tried having a conversation with her?" Steve asks and Bucky furrows his brows.

"I- No?"

"You know, after you left her alone in the debriefing room I stopped by," Steve starts as Bucky sits down on one of the chairs, continuing to eat his food, "and she told me that she's got no clue as to why you hate her so much. So, Buck, what's the reason?"

The super soldier feels his stomach twist a bit, not knowing that's how you felt about his coldness towards you. "I… I'm not sure, Steve. I just- she- I don't know how to explain it," Bucky mumbles and runs his fingers through his hair.

"Figure it out then. You two need to be working together. The hostility between the two of you is going to get one of you hurt… or even killed," Steve reprimands the super soldier and Bucky finds himself nodding in response. "I have to go. Talk to you later."

Bucky sets his phone down on the table before glancing towards your bedroom door. He lets out a deep breath through his nose and continues to eat the food you got him.

You sit against the headboard with your knees tucked a bit, staring off into space. You look towards the alarm clock to see it's just past midnight and you press your lips together before leaning your chin on your knees. Your food grows cold as it sits on the nightstand, your appetite is forgotten after your altercation with Bucky.

Tears pool in your eyes as you run your fingers through your hair. "Why? Why? God, why?!" You cry to yourself and before you know it you chuck your phone across the room.

You hear the device smash as it collides with the wall and you see the screen all cracked. A sigh leaves your lips as you watch the lit-up screen turn black before cursing to yourself.

Bucky quickly sits up at the thumping sound echoing off of the walls, his blue eyes looking around the dark space. His eyebrows furrow as everything is in place and the super-soldier gets up from his spot on the couch.

A frown etched onto his lips when he walks closer to the bedroom door, hearing your cries coming from inside it. Bucky wets his lip and feels his chest clench a bit before he raises his fist to knock on your door.

"Fucking hell," he heard you mutter through the door and Bucky lowers his hand, deciding it’s best to leave you be so he doesn't make it worse.

He swallows the lump forming in his throat before making his way back towards the couch. Bucky lays down under the covers and stares up at the ceiling, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

"Steve's right," he whispers to himself, "I have to fix this."

You put your hood up as you follow Gabriel's men down the busy street. You stay a good distance behind them as you can lightly hear their conversation.

Apologies leave your lips as you're weaving through the sea of people, bumping into some of their shoulders as you pass by them. You wince when a burly man bumps into you, your eyes gazing up at the man while pressing your hand to your side.

"Sorry, miss," he smirks and you furrow your brows, mumbling that it's alright.

You stumble around the corner as the pain in your side spreads, removing your hand from the wound to see blood staining your skin. "Shit," you mumble and glance back to see if you can find the man that bumped into you.

Suddenly, your mouth gets covered by someone and you let out a scream as they drag you into the ally beside you. They throw you on the ground before another starts to kick your stomach.

"Don't fuck with us," a man growls and grabs a fist full of your hair, lifting you before shoving you against the brick wall.

Heavy pants leave your lips as the man's fist connects with your face. Pain fills your body as you double over, a couple of gaps leaving your lips.

"P-Please," you beg as another man takes a swing at you, blood dripping from your lips.

Your head gets pushed back against the wall as the older gentleman leans close to you. "Should've thought about that before following us, sweetheart," he snickers before gripping your cheeks. "I'm sure someone will find you."

You don't get a chance to say anything before the man smashes your head against the building. Your eyes roll back into your head as you get punched once more. The man lets go of your body and you drop to the ground as you become unconscious from the beating.

"We'll find her later, let's go."

Bucky knocks on your door in the hotel room, eyebrows furrowed as he hasn't heard from you all day. "Y/N?" He calls out your name before opening the door, peeking his head into the room. He walks into the room and sees the place empty. "Shit."

He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials your number. Bucky presses the device to his ear before walking back out into the main room. C'mon, c'mon. He thinks to himself while pacing in front of the couch.

A sigh leaves his lips when the call goes to voice-mail, his vibranium hand rubbing through his hair. The next number he dials is Steve's, deciding to tell the blonde what happened.

"Hey, Buck, what's going on?" Steve answers the phone.

"Y/N's missing," Bucky states, feeling his body start to panic at the thought of what could've happened. "I-She was here in the middle of the night and she hasn't left her room all day, so when I went to go check, the room was empty."

The brunette sits down on the edge of the couch, leaning his elbow on his knees. "Okay calm down. Did you try calling her?" Steve asks and Bucky scoffs.

"Of course I tried calling her, Steve. I'm not a complete idiot," Bucky mumbles.

"Goddamnit, Bucky. None of us can head out there right now. So, you need to get out there and find her," Steve informs him and Bucky nods his head in response, standing up from the couch.

Bucky goes to speak when the door to the room opens and you stumble inside. "She's here. I-I gotta go," the super-soldier breathes, hanging up before Steve could say anything.

You wince while shutting the door, leaning on it for stability. "Bucky," you whimper as he rushes over to you. You fall into his arms, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

"Hey, hey, what happened?" He mumbles softly while leaning down to pick you up bridal style.

Bucky gently kicks the bedroom door open before walking into the room, setting you down onto the bed. His eyes roam across your body, seeing the bruises and cuts on your face. The brunette notices dried blood on your hand and his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Fuck," Bucky whispers after seeing blood on your shirt. He picks up your shirt to see a wound in your side, his fingers grazing over your skin.

He walks into the living space, grabbing everything he'll need to patch up your wound. Bucky feels his phone vibrating in his pocket as he wipes the alcoholic pad across your skin.

"Hey, Steve," the super-soldier answers his phone, putting it on speaker before setting it on the table beside him.

"She okay?" He asks immediately and Bucky swallows thickly.

"Uhm, not exactly. She looks like she got the shit beat out of her, and she got stabbed," he informs the blonde.

Bucky runs a hand over his face after patching up your stab wound, turning his attention to your face. "Shit, Bucky. Okay, I'll let Tony know and tell you what he says," Steve mumbles and Bucky nods his head in response.

The phone hangs up and Bucky shuffles towards your upper body, grabbing another alcohol wipe. "God, I'm so sorry, Y/N," he sighs while wiping the dried blood off of your face. "I'm gonna need you to pull through this, alright. I need you."

Bucky throws the bloodied wipes away before gently stroking your cheek. He pushes himself off of the floor and grabs a glass of water and some painkillers, setting them on the table beside your bed.

His fingers glide across your forehead, pushing some of your hair out of your face. "Please come back to me."

A groan leaves your lips as your eyes flutter open. Your vision clears and you see Bucky sleeping beside your bed, his arms crossed over his chest. A small smile comes to your lips as you attempt to sit up a bit, wincing slightly.

Bucky jumps awake at the sound of you, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Y/N, hey," he whispers, pulling the chair closer to you. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit with a truck," you chuckle while holding your side.

"Here," he mumbles and moves to grab the pills and water beside you, "take these." You mumble a quiet thank you before taking the medicine from him.

You notice his nervous behavior as Bucky sits back down in his chair. "Bucky, I'm fine," you tell him after swallowing the liquid, setting the glass down. "Nothing I haven't handled before."

A sigh leaves the brunette's lips and Bucky runs his fingers through his hair. "It doesn't matter if you've handled it before, Y/N. You went out- on your own- to follow a dangerous man and you could've been killed!" He exclaims with a huff of breath.

"Well, if you were capable of working with me, Bucky, then I wouldn't have to do it alone! Don't you see that I'm trying?! I'm trying so hard to be civil with you, but you don't budge. Probably would've been better if I died. Then I wouldn't have to subject myself to your coldness every fucking day," you practically scream, your chest heaving rapidly.

Bucky's eyes soften at your words, his heart hurting a bit when you said you'd rather be dead than deal with him. "I'm sorry," he whispers loud enough for you to hear and your head turns to look at him.

"You're sorry? For treating me as an outsider for over a year?"

"I… Look, Y/N, I don't have a good reason for my behavior. I wish I did, I really do, but can we start over?" Bucky stutters and hesitantly grabs your hand.

Your heart flutters in your chest as his flesh hand grabs yours, seeing the sincerity in his blue eyes. "Can you stay with me?" You mumble, your fingers interlacing with his.

Bucky smiles softly and nods his head. You smile at him, feeling him squeeze your hand. The sound of your hotel room door opening catches Bucky's attention and the super-soldier suddenly gets up from his chair.

"Buc-"

He covers your mouth with his hand while bringing a finger to his lips, silently telling you to stay quiet. Your eyes widen as talking from the other room finally hits your ears.

"Stay there," Bucky mouths to you and you nod your head, your hands gripping the covers.

Bucky stealthily walks towards the bedroom door, pressing his ear to the wooden structure. "The tracking device says she's here," a man states and Bucky furrows his brows. Tracking device? "Check the bedroom."

Footsteps grow louder and Bucky quickly makes his way back towards you before lifting you off of the bed. Your arms wrap around his neck as the brunette quietly hides the two of you in the closet.

Your fingers stroke the back of his neck soothingly, keeping your gaze on his face the whole time. You notice his jaw clenching as Bucky focuses on the sounds around you.

"She's not here. She must've found it and left it behind," a different voice proclaims, another agreeing with the statement. "Let's go. We'll let Gabriel know."

You swallow thickly as Bucky's eyes meet yours. You can feel his breath fan your face, realizing the distance between the two of you is closer than you thought.

"Is it clear?" You whisper and Bucky gently sets you onto your feet.

"Hold on, let me check," he mumbles while his hands grip your waist, making sure you're steady before releasing you. "You good?"

You nod your head in response and Bucky's hands slip off of your waist before slowly walking out of the closet. You run a hand through your hair as you wait for the super soldier to come back.

"It's clear, c'mon," Bucky tells you and holds his hand out for you to take.

You wince a bit while walking out of the closet, grabbing ahold of Bucky's hand as he leads you back towards the bed. "Did he say something about a tracking device?" You ask him and Bucky nods his head in reply.

You lower yourself onto the bed and think about the event of yesterday. Bucky's eyes meet yours, watching your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Can you think of when they might've placed a tracker on you?" He asks while crouching in front of you, resting his hands against your thighs.

"I…" a short gasp leaves your lips as you remember a guy smirking at you after stabbing your side. "No way…"

"What?"

You pull your shirt over your head and Bucky's eyes widen before looking away. "My stab wound," you whisper.

Bucky snaps his attention to you as you take the bandage off of your side, exposing the wound. "Shit," he mumbles and lifts himself off of the floor. "If you can grab a towel and lay on it. We have to get it out."

You nod your head as he leaves the room. Another wince leaves your lips as you walk into the bathroom, grabbing a fluffy towel from below the sink. When you enter the bedroom again, Bucky stands at the edge of the bed sorting through the different utensils.

"This is gonna hurt," he informs you as you lay back on the bed, one of your hands gripping the sheets.

"It's okay," you whisper while nodding your head.

Bucky gives you a small smile before kneeling beside the bed. Your chest heaves rapidly as the super-soldier re-opens your wound. His blue eyes flit up to your face as you stare at the ceiling, trying to keep your mind distracted.

"I'm going to dig around to try and find the device, alright?" He reassures you and you nod your head, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Bucky's flesh hand rests on your stomach, feeling his thumb gently stroke your skin. Two of his vibranium fingers dip into your stab wound, a hiss leaving your lips at the uncomfortable feeling. "B-Bucky-"

"I'm sorry," he apologizes as the metal fingers move around. "It'll be over soon."

You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down harshly. A cry escapes your lips as Bucky's fingers travel deeper, tears pooling in your eyes. Sadness fills Bucky's eyes as you whither beneath his touch, wishing he could find the damn tracker faster.

Bucky's brows raise when his metal fingers graze against something cylindrical. "I got it, doll," the nickname slips out and your heart flutters in your chest, turning your head to face him.

His eyes are already on you, seeing the concerned look swimming in the baby blues. "Agh! Bucky-" you breathe out as the device scrapes along the inside of your skin.

"Sorry," he whispers and manages to pull the tracking device out without hurting you anymore, crushing the tiny object between his vibranium fingers.

You take deep breaths as the super-soldier quickly gets up so he can replace your bandage. You keep your gaze on Bucky the entire time as he tends to the wound. "You're pretty," you whisper, not being able to stop the words from leaving your lips.

Bucky looks up at you through his lashes as he releases a small laugh. Butterflies swarm around your stomach as the man leans forward to press a gentle kiss to the fresh bandage, your breath hitching in your throat.

"You're prettier. Let me get you some water," he mentions before leaving the room once more.

He thinks I'm pretty. You think to yourself as a smile comes to your lips, bringing your gaze back to the ceiling.

"Tony, you don't get it. They know someone's after them. I think we should hold off until they're less suspicious," you hear Bucky talking in the other room. A sigh leaves your lips, the argument continuing on as you inspect the bruises on your face in the en suite.

You wince at the tenderness, rubbing the arnica ointment around your left eye. "Look, Bucky, the best I can do is move you to a different room and extend the mission. We can pull out on this now. We're too close," Tony says before hanging up the phone.

"Fucking hell," Bucky mutters as you leave the bathroom. You walk into the living area to see Bucky throw his phone onto the table before plopping onto the couch. "He's not letting us leave."

"I heard," you sit beside him, tucking one of your legs under the other, "I mean he's right in a way. We're so close to capturing this guy. I should've been more careful, I'm sorry."

The blue-eyed man glances towards you, leaning against the furniture. "It's not your fault. You were just doing your job. It's my fault that I made you believe you had to do this yourself," he mentions and you press your lips together.

"Well, good thing we're starting over, yeah?" You ask and Bucky's eyes widen, his lips parting slightly. You chuckle softly at the shocked look on his face and gently press your fingers against his chin, shutting his mouth.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, sorry," Bucky whispers, running a hand through his hair. You watch as he glides his tongue across his bottom lip, low-key wishing you could taste his lips. "So, we should probably figure out which room Tony moved us to."

You and Bucky proceed to make your way to the lobby and talk to the reception desk, hoping the billionaire already called to make the arrangements. You keep an eye out as Bucky talks to the woman, your fingers drumming along the mahogany desk.

"Ah, yes, I just got off the phone with Mr. Stark. Here are your new room keys," she says with a smile, and Bucky politely thanks her while taking the keycards into his hand.

"C'mon," he mumbles and hesitantly grabs your hand, his blue eyes looking around the place.

Your eyes widen upon seeing the elevator door opening, a few men you recognize standing inside of it and you push Bucky towards the wall.

"Y/N-"

"Kiss me," you whisper and his blue eyes widen as he looks down at you.

"W-What-"

"Public display of affection makes people uncomfortable," you state, remembering Natasha mentioning that if you were ever in a sticky situation.

Bucky wets his lips and nods his head in agreement. "Yes, they do…" he trails off and you let out a huff of breath.

You grab a hold of his shirt, pulling him closer to you as you lean on your toes. Bucky places his hand against the wall, stabilizing himself as your lips connect with his. His vibranium hand grips your hip, a short moan escaping his lips as your fingers card through his hair.

Your heart flutters in your chest at the feeling of his soft lips. It takes Bucky a few seconds before he starts moving his lips against yours, deepening the kiss. You hear the men muttering to themselves as they walk past the two of you.

"Fuckin' kids," one of them grunts.

Bucky leans forward, pressing your back against the wall as he pulls away slightly. You keep your eyes closed and you breathe heavily as his nose nudges yours lightly.

"Are they gone?" He whispers against your lips.

You flutter your eyes open and look over his shoulder, seeing them walking out the main doors of the hotel. "Y-Yeah," you mumble, causing the brunette to take a step back. "Sorry about that, I just… didn't know what else to do."

Bucky shakes his head, mumbling that it’s alright. He reaches for your hand again, leading you towards the elevator. You chew on your bottom lip as the two of you stand in the elevator in silence, feeling the tension between the two of you thickening.

“Why don’t you head to the new room and I’ll work on transferring our stuff?” Bucky mentions and you nod your head in response.

“Sure,” you mumble and grab one of the room keys from his hand, watching the muscly man step out of the elevator. “I’ll see you up there.”

After a short ride up a couple of more floors, you step out of the elevator before heading towards your new room. Maybe one with two beds this time. You think to yourself while placing the key into the lock. You step into the room and let out a gasp, seeing rose petals everywhere. “Oh, no,” you mumble and shut the door quickly, trying to gather as many petals as you can. “What in the actual fuck, Tony. I swear to God,” You mumble to yourself while rolling your eyes.

The door handle to the room begins to turn and you rush towards it, opening it just a smidge. Bucky glances down at you with a concerned look as you try to find the right words. “What’s going on?” He asks you and you press your lips together. “Y/N?”

“Just… don’t take it out on me, okay?” You whisper and Bucky furrows his brows as you fully open the hotel room door.

Bucky’s eyes widened after seeing rose petals everywhere, causing him to curse under his breath. “I’m going to kill him,” he states and a chuckle leaves your lips.

You grab your bag from the hallway before shutting the room’s door. You watch Bucky aggressively pick up flower petals from the floor and furniture. “Maybe this was the only room available,” you chuckle while heading towards the bedroom.

“I doubt it,” he mutters bitterly as you open the secondary door.

“Oh, come one,” you groan as you notice the large king-sized bed sitting in the middle of the room. “Bucky!”

“Yeah?” He calls out, hearing his footsteps grow closer to where you’re standing. You glance over your shoulder and see his lips part in disbelief. “You’re joking me,” Bucky sighs before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and wet your lips. “I’ll take the couch this time,” you tell him and Bucky glances down at you.

“Y-You have bruised ribs, Y/N. I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch,” he mentions and you shrug your shoulders in response.

A sigh leaves your lips as you slap your hands along your thighs, turning to face Bucky. “Well, if you’re willing to deal with me… you can sleep in the same bed. I don’t mind,” you shyly tell him, feeling your cheeks flush. You begin to panic when Bucky says nothing and you clear your throat, scratching the back of your neck. “O-Or you don’t have to. I just wanted you to be comfortable.”

Bucky’s blue eyes soften at your words as he watches you walk further into the room. The man wets his lips before running a hand through his hair. “We can share,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear.

“A-Are you sure?” You stutter, your eyes meeting his and the brunette nods his head in response. Bucky gives you an awkward smile and you let out a tiny giggle, taking a step towards him.

“What are you laughing about?” He huffs and you bite your lip, bringing your hands to his face before lifting the sides of his lips. Bucky playfully rolls his eyes and swats your hands away from him.

A genuine smile graces his pink lips and your heart flutters at the sight. “There’s a real smile,” you tell him, both of your cheeks heating up. “Should do it more often, Bucky, it looks good on you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bucky whispers before walking out of the room to gather his things.

“Okay, so, I managed to gather some more intel on Gabriel,” Bucky mentions while walking into the bedroom. The super-soldier grabs the laptop Tony supplied him before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

You lift the ice pack from your ribs and glance down at the bruised skin. “As good as I can be, I guess. It still hurts to bend over a bit, but I manage,” you chuckle as Bucky glances over his shoulder, seeing the purplish skin. “What’d you find out?”

“That he’s got a business meeting in the restaurant later tonight. Turns out the man he’s meeting has ties to HYDRA,” Bucky informs you while typing out what he discovered.

Bucky closes the laptop after finishing the report, making sure it is sent to Tony before fully turning the device off. Your eyes watch him gracefully move throughout the room, feeling a bit useless after getting attacked over twenty-four hours ago. “Do you need help with the meeting?” You ask him and the super-soldier shakes his head. “Buck-”

“You still need to heal, Y/N. I got this,” he mentions, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“Can I at least be on comms when you go? I'm tired of just sitting here and doing nothing," you bargain.

Bucky doesn't answer you while pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it on the chair that sits in the corner of the room. "Fine, you can be on comms," he mumbles and you grin as then throws the covers back before getting on the bed.

"Thank you, Bucky," you whisper as the super-soldier lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

He turns his head towards you, his eyes noticing the fading bruise under your eye. He shuffles so he's laying on his side before reaching his vibranium hand out. Bucky notices how you don't flinch, seeing the smile steady on your lips as his metal fingers glide across your under-eye.

"Does it hurt?" Bucky whispers and you shake your head.

His eyes flicker down to your lips for a hot second before meeting your eyes again. "Have you ever kissed anyone before me, Bucky?" You ask him as you shuffle a bit closer to him.

You notice his cheeks blush and you teasingly smile at him. "I- No," he confesses and you tuck your lip between your teeth.

"C-Can I ask you a serious question?" You whisper, feeling his breath fanning your face. Bucky nods his head against his pillow, feeling a bit nervous about what you're going to ask. "Why do you hate me?"

A sigh leaves his lips as his blue eyes flutter shut for a few moments. Bucky wets his lips before sitting up, leaning his back against the headboard. You sit up as well, keeping your eyes on him as you notice the gears turning in his head.

"I don't hate you, Y/N. I really don't. I just… I guess I was jealous of you. I mean," Bucky pauses and slaps his hands against his thighs, "I don't have a good reason for being cold to you. Steve's right, you know? I do have a hard time showing my feelings."

Bucky's hand gently grabs yours and strokes the back of your hand. "It took me getting hurt for you to realize," you mumble softly and Bucky's chest clenches.

"I'm sorry that I let you down. I was so apathetic and I know it's pathetic, but I'm going to be here for you here on out," he exclaims and the corner of your mouth lifts into a small smile.

"Promise me?" You whisper as Bucky brings his free hand to your face.

His blue eyes search yours for a few moments before gently kissing your lips. "I promise you."

You rest your forehead against his, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as your heart pounds wildly against your chest. Bucky's hand slides along the side of your throat before resting on the back of your neck. Your lips meet his again while running your hands along his torso.

The kiss didn't last long before the two of you lie back down, your head resting on his chest. "You'll always have a place in me."

Taglist: @wkemeup @jessalyn-jpeg @queen-of-mischief @metalbuckaroo @thewxntersoldier @bumblebet-20

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ventisehe · 3 years

Text

crying on their wedding day / genshin impact / part one

this was a request from my old account and i am only transferring it here. there is a part two to this but i got busy with school and organizing my new account, as well as thinking over deleting my old account.

since bennett is fifteen or sixteen, his part will be a little different from the others. with aether, he is hundred years old so his part if just like the rest. this is unedited and i wrote it at night when i was supposed to be farming so please bear with me hehe.

requested by: @bakuhoe-is-my-bakubro

includes: diluc, zhongli, childe/tartaglia, aether, bennett

warning: unedited, not proofread

part two

THOSE WHO WOULD SHED A SINGLE TEAR

DILUC

After losing his father and his horrible fall out with Kaeya, Diluc has become a firm believer that a man can truly live as an island, to some extent. As much as possible, he kept to himself and worked alone. Having people share his burdens with him did not appeal to him. In fact, it miffed him, as it made him feel indebted to them.

He limited his interaction with everyone, especially those who are part of the Knights of Favonius, favoring solitude above else. But of course, this did not entail bad social ethics to others.

He treated his maids and employees with civility and respect, the same can be said with his patrons whenever he worked behind the counter (it would certainly be bad for his business if he behaved aloof to them) and those he was once close friends with. He always behaved appropriately to them, although he must admit he can be quite insulting to the Knight, he always stood behind an invisible barrier, careful not to cross it and grow attached to anyone.

He has long given up with amorous relationships. After all, what good would he be as a lover if he could not provide his woman the love and care she deserved? Surely, he cannot let a maiden suffer with his inadequacy as a potential husband. He is aware of how hectic his schedule is (he hardly has enough time for himself so spending time with his lover would be proven difficult) and how poorly he expresses his feelings, thoughts, and emotions. In a relationship, in marriage, communication is the key for it to be successful, and already then, he has failed. He may be a cold man at first glance, but he will not put a woman in s distressing dilemma, not intentionally anyway.

Being the richest man in Mondstadt and being considered attractive by many, Diluc was not foreign to having women throw themselves at him, attempting to seduce him. If maintaining a relationship with a woman with his current tribulations was hard, finding a woman who truly love and understand him was even harder. He has no means of deciphering who were pure with their intentions and those who sought him for his money and influence.

And he accepted his fate without easily, without question. This was the way it was supposed to be in the first place. Diluc Ragnvindr - a lone man, who lived in too big mansion, sleeping on a bed too big for him. It was all he knew. The bright days of his childhood long forgotten.

But then you came to his life so suddenly.

"Master Diluc," Began Jean, a polite smile over her lips. "This is ( Your Name )".

All it took was for you to give him shy smile to have his walls broken down, and for his heart to yearn for what he has resolutely denied himself of for years. And it twisted him, and not in a way he welcomed.

Diluc tried so damn hard to push you away. He avoided your presence, and made it his point to show you he wanted nothing to do with you, and made no attempt to cover it and ignored how his heart broke every time your smile fell. He resolutely refused to yield to your sincere advances.

He treated you the same way be treated everyone, to show you how you were no different from everyone. You were just another dot in his life waiting to be erased and thrown in the back of his mind.

But the harder he pushed, the harder you pulled. In his brightest days and in his darkest days, you have never strayed far and welcomed him with open arms. You always went out of your way for him.

It was hard not to fall in love with you? Why did you have to make things so difficult?

It wasn't too long until he was falling asleep in his bed with you in his embrace, his heart feeling light, warm and content. He hasn't feel like this in a long time - safe, and at home. Diluc found home from someone he tried to push away.

The horror of what could have happened if he had been successful weighed down on him, and it took quite an assurance from you to make him remember that he has failed, and you were his, as he was yours.

Back then, he thought your persistence was bothersome. But as he stood at the altar right now, watching you enter with your white wedding dress, he was grateful you never gave up on him.

Diluc cannot describe how beautiful you looked as you graced everyone in the place with your presence.

Your eyes locked with him, and his heart soared in his chest. And when you smiled at him, an excited gleam in your eyes - he cannot help but smile back.

Time cannot be any slower, and the aisle cannot be any longer. And have you always walked this slow? Or were you just teasing him?

Diluc's breath hitched - Perhaps you knew how much he wanted to get this over with so he can have you all to himself in the comfort of his room.

And when he saw you smiling mischievously at him, he knew that he was right.

His words failed to describe how beautiful you looked. His words failed the joy he was feeling. May Barbatos have mercy on him

But the tear that escaped the corner of his eye explained everything.

"Oh, what is this?" His best man whispered beside him, a teasing tone lacing his voice. "Master Diluc is crying. Why, I never thought I'd see the day."

Diluc shot him a glare. "Do not make me regret making you my best man, Kaeya."

Kaeya laughed. "Ah, ah, ah," He chimed. "Your wife won't be pleased if we fight at your wedding day."

A warm and pleasant feeling coursed through him. His wife.

"She's not my wife yet." Said Diluc.

Kaeya looked at you as you walked down the aisle. "And in just a few minutes, I'll have two Ragnvindr to annoy." He patted his brother on the back, smiling a genuine smile for the first time. "Congratulations, Diluc."

ZHONGLI

Zhongli, or Rex Lapis for that time, has watched over Teyvat for thousands of years and has witnessed firsthand how kings and tyrants rose and fell, how kingdoms were born, how camaraderie are conducted, how romance makes a man foolish and blinded, how society flourished in the hands of mortals as Archons guarded them from their resting place, and throughout the tales of humans, his eyes has laid upon many beauties.

But you? Oh, even the most esteemed bard of all realms could never bring the satisfactory glory to your name and pulchritude.

How dearly Zhongli missed the unspeakable power, money and authority he had back before he revoked his own position as a deity, keeping a close eye over Liyue and his people. But if ever presented with the opportunity to return to his rightful place as part of the Seven, he shall graciously decline, casting his gaze away and simply returning to your side.

After all, what benefit would he gain from it when he already has his heart is content in the possession of a mere mortal, a mortal he loved and adored. He would dream of ever choosing his old power over you, and that can be affirmed when he asked for your hand as the two of you took an evening stroll outside Liyue.

He has fallen for you and he cannot rise again. A gentle and kind woman with an understanding and patience which knows no bounds. If not for his revelation that he has accomplished all his duties and has come to decide to resign from his reign, your existence may be another reason for him to take the form or a mortal and ask for your hand.

He can still recall that faithful day when he first met you at the harbor. He stood by a high balcony, overlooking Liyue Harbor with arms crossed. The sun beat down against Liyue grounds and his skin, but it also casted an ethereal glow on you as you exited one of the ships that stopoed at the docks. And may he boldly say the sun was outshined that day, and his heart has been taken.

Zhongli can only imagine how many men has chased after you, but failed to woo you.

Zhongli understood the concept of love. After all, Liyue and every living being that sought shelter in its walls were close to his heart, but never in his life has he felt the way he felt for you. It was the sort of phenomena he observed between lovers for centuries - unconditional love and care, a sanctuary in the arms of their beloved, an individual to trust and come home to whether the day has been kind or unkind.

What he thought were trivial matters and the means of mortals for survival he has tasted its sweet flavor, and it was by your hand did he receive it. And he was thankful that you have found him worthy of being with you, and soon, being one with him in the contract of marriage.

And thus came the faithful day, the very day he longed to come ever since you have accepted him as your husband to be, and the day you have dreamt of every night you laid with him.

Zhongli counted the months, weeks, days, and if he had the ability to, minutes until the day of your wedding. He has a calendar in his room and everyday, he enthusiastically crossed out every passing day, watching as his wedding with you grow closer.

And when it finally arrived, Zhongli followed a meticulous routine to prepare himself, using expensive oils and perfume to which the Fatui money has provided splendidly. After all, he wanted to look the best he can for you. You deserved only the best of things, and he shall not hold back on anything to please you.

Though Zhongli, most of the time, was a calm man even under the eye of tribulations, when he stood at the altar in front of his close friends and colleagues, he can't help but feel anxious.

Of course he has no doubt in your love for him. He holds on your every word of love and affection as true, and his love for you was as hard as stone. Rather, it was he who doubted himself and his capabilities.

He wondered if he would be able to take care of you, love you the way you should be, bring a smile to your lips, and a laugh out of your mouth. If he had been Rex Lapis still, he would have easily uphold his duties as your husband. After all, what can an Archon not do?

It would be Childe, his best man, who would console him. He would tell Zhongli he is more than capable to care for you. He has a stable job (not to mention his connection with the Fatui), he was eager to please you and give you about everything if he can, he has a kind heart, he was a man who can manage his time wisely and never choose his profession over you, and above all, he loved you. Not many men can afford the luxury of being this perfect, but Zhongli was no man, not originally at least.

He will be unconvinced of what Childe has said. This unease in him was hard to diminish. Not being enough for you will tear him apart. The thought of it just gnawed at him. Will he make you happy? Will you regret marrying him when you realized life married to him wasn't as you expected?

It was only when the doors opened, and his wide and anticipative eyes darted over to the other end of the place did every little doubt in his mind is erased.

You stood by the entrance wearing the white dress you have fought hard not to show him until this day.

That bright smile on your face, those eyes that shimmered at the sight of him, the faint red on your cheeks - Zhongli did not even notice how love stricken he looked, and nor did he notice a tear cascade from corner of eye.

It was only when Childe stifled a laugh and pointed it out did he feel the dampness at the side of his face.

He forgot how to breathe when you finally stood before him. Even a veil cannot conceal your beauty.

With twinkling eyes, you smiled at him - like he was the only person in the room.

"Are you crying?" You ask playfully.

Zhongli will let out a chuckle, and as he take your hands in his, he said, "In such a beautiful day like this with the loveliest lady in Teyvat before me, how can I not?"

Indeed it was a beautiful day, made better when your lips met his.

He can't stop a few more tears from slipping.

THOSE WHO WOULD BAWL THEIR EYES OUT

CHILDE/TARTAGLIA

Childe understood his duties as a Harbinger even if his playful and flirtatious facade may say otherwise. He kissed hands of women and paid them golden compliments until their mind went hazy with his feigned affection, but he was still a Fatui at the end of the day - a ruthless and greedy scoundrel who had too much Mora in his hands.

And it was because of his line of work that he decided never to commit himself. If he was to find himself infatuated with a woman and she reciprocated his feelings and desired to pursue a relationship with him, it would inevitably drag her to the dangers entailed to his position.

The last thing he wanted was someone to dear to him to be harmed, not to mention his lover could become his weakness, she could be taken by his enemies and be used against him, thus, making things more complicated and harder for him to fulfill his duties to the Tsaritsa.

To him, nothing is more important than seeing through his mission with the finest quality of work he can give.

So damn you for coming into his life and distracting him. Damn you for bringing another bright to his life. Damn you for taking care of his family when he was gone. Just - damn you for making him fall for you.

He hated this - the feeling of being weak, of being vulnerable, of laying his guard down. One touch from you and he's no better than the people he despised for being so frail and powerless.

How ever do you possess this prowess to make him so dependent on you, to relish in your voice when you sing to him as the two of you laid together in his bed, how he let his defenses crumble when you whisper his name, the tug of his heart when you he sees you getting along so well with his family.

Childe wanted you. He wanted you more than anything and anyone in Teyvat. He was going crazy thinking about you.

He refused to acknowledge his feelings at first, thinking perhaps he can use you to comfort him and his family in these troubling times. That's all you were supposed to be, a tool for him to make his family feel better whenever he goes off to accomplish his work as a Harbinger.

But he couldn't stomach the thought of using you like that. He didn't want you to treat like a toy. And it did not help that one day, when he was returning from a mission, you come rushing to him and blurting out your feelings and your worry for his safety.

You loved him. Did he hear you right? You love a Fatui, and a Harbinger, no less. Surely, you aren't that stupid to fall for him.

And yet he smiled a sincere smile at your confession, and he too followed your steps. That night, he was at his weakest. Just relishing in your arms and ridding all the responsibilities over his shoulders. He can forget all his faults for a moment, with you. A peace of mind and heart was found in you.

Childe watched as you played with his fingers, and then he spoke. “Aren’t you afraid?”

You hummed. “Afraid? Of what?”

Childe shook his head and held your hand which toyed with his digits. You looked up at him, puzzled.

“Of me.” Said Childe, pulling your hand and holding it close to his chest. He closed his eyes, almost terrified of what your answer can be. “Of what I can bring to your life. I’m a Harbinger, [ Your Name ]. Your life is at stake just being with me. Do you know what you’re in for for loving me?”

You gazed at him, and he can’t see anything in your eyes. He let out a small gasp when you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“I’m not afraid of you or anything this world can throw at me.” You confessed. “You’re going to protect me, Tartaglia. I know you will. I trust you. I love you.”

And fucking hell, did he protect you.

He tried to hide you from his fellow Harbingers, and especially to his enemies. Not because they will use you to get the upper hand against him, a leverage. No, he wanted to hide you, as long as he can anyway (because it won't be long until his secret is out, walls do have ears), to protect you. No one will lay a hand or even get a single strand of your hair. May the Archons have mercy on anyone who dares put you in the middle of the dangers of his job, because he surely won't.

Because of this, you and Childe decided to get married in secret, with no one else but Zhongli, the traveler, and their floating companion to be your witnesses in becoming one. The two of you knew well of the consequences your decision shall birth, but it's the one you're making. Nothing in this can stop Childe from making you his wife, and treating you as such.

Childe could not wait for the ceremony to begin. Even with such a small crowd - very small indeed - he did not hold back to make this day special for you. The finest of everything is what you deserved, and if he could give more, he would. But for now, all he can give you is himself, and he dearly wished he was enough.

The whole time, as he waited for you to emerge from the doors of the small cathedral the two of you chose to be wed in, he kept imagining how his life would be like with you.

Waking up beside you was the thing he looked forward to the most. When the sunrays peeked from closed curtains and cascaded down your slumbering form, a gentle and even breaths leaving your lips, a soft expression of rest - the thought of it filled his heart with warmth, a kind of warmth only you can evoke from him.

Waking up at your side on his bed always reminded him thst you were indeed there, and his. Soon, he'll be waking up beside you with a soft smile on his lips, a reminder that you were there, but now as his wife.

Childe never really considered him emotional. It was part of his discipline as a Harbinger never to let his emotions get the better of him. But when you stepped into the cathedral wearing the wedding dress you personally chose and had hidden from him for so long, a veil over your face but the soft smile still just as bright as the morning sun, it all came crashing down to him.

Childe wanted a lot of things in life. But what he wanted the most was to spend the rest of his life with you - providing for you, protecting you, comforting you, falling deeper in love with your every single day. All this he will do until his dying breath, and he knew you'd do the same.

His dream was walking towards him, never taking her eye off him as she approached the altar.

He can hear Paimon clapping and the Traveler reprimanding her for being a little too loud. He can hear Zhongli saying something to him but he couldn't understand a word he said. But he was too lost in his realization that you're going to marry him.

You chose him, a man with too many faults and imperfections.

Just as you arrived at the small steps leading towards the altar, the tears Childe has been trying to hold back streamed down his face, small hiccups escaping his lips.

You stared at him, worried. "Tartaglia, are you alright?"

Childe would try to formulate an answer but through his tears and hiccups, he couldn't make a single comprehensible word. His posture was regal and proper, as though he was trying to fool everyone that he wasn't crying.

How can you ask if he was alright? How can his heart handle how beautiful you looked right now?

"Excuse me, ( Your Name )," Zhongli interjected as he stepped beside Childe. "It seems that your soon to be husband needs a moment to collect himself. Please, excuse us."

Zhongli led Childe back to his room, and the Harbinger did not fight back. He was still crying even when the doors has closed behind him. Zhongli stood by the door, watching the Fatui sit on his bed, trying to stop himself from bawling.

Childe can feel guilt crawling up to him as he realized what he had done. What was supposed to the most perfect day, your most perfect day, was ruined because of him.

He was scared to think what you thought of him now. Were you resenting him for what happened? Did you still wish to marry him?

If only he had controlled his emotions much better. He shouldn't have let his joy break through him in tears.

"She was crying too, you know," Spoke Zhongli.

Childe raised his head to look at the former Archon. "Huh?"

"Your bride, she - " He smiled at him. " - she was crying too. She's happy to be marrying you."

Childe can feel his heart hammering against his chest in delight at what he said.

"So don't keep her waiting."

Childe bawled his eyes out once more when the words - "I do," - left your lips.

AETHER

When his sister was taken from him, Aether was a lost and wandering soul in Teyvat with the sole purpose of finding her.

Throughout his journey, he met different people from different regions. He learned their values and cultures, he grew to love the world he used to be a stranger to, he was able to utilize different sorts of Visions, and yet, despite all of this, Aether was lonely. Paimon - bless her pure soul - tried her best to keep his spirits and bring a smile to his face (he assumed she too felt the hollowness inside of him) but it was all futile as he often find himself seeking solitude and gazing out in an open field wondering where his twin could be and how she was fairing on her own.

He will let the cool breeze comfort him, but all it left was a searing kiss of reality that his search might have been all for naught. That very concept his mind was conjured haunted him in his every waking days. Is he still journeying through Teyvat and reaching out to all Archons with a solid purpose? Was he no wasting his time looking high and low for someone who could not be looking at the sky as he?

"And what if she is?"

Your words is what got his attention. Aether met you in the evening when the stars and the moon was absent from the skies. He sat on a fallen log overlooking the city of Mondstadt, alone and cold. Paimon has insisted in him accompanying him, but he had snuck away before she can chase after him. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, and with the scarce time he has for himself, he has to make the most of every night that comes.

Lumine was in his mind, and worry was gnashing its teeth at him. He was deep in his own world, sinking to the hands of his tragic thoughts, that he did not hear footsteps trekking the hillock he was at. Nor did he realize he was speaking his own worries in the air, eyes distant and staring blankly at nothing.

"What if she's not even looking for me?" That's what he remembered saying that time.

Then you made your presence known with an answer that refuted his initial thought. He whirled his head to the side, wide eyes with surprise. You stood next to him with a faint smile, hands behind your back and the moon slowly peeking from the shroud of clouds. A light in the darkness, the moon was. And so you were you to him.

"Sorry," You apologized, sheepishly giving him a smile as you rubbed the back of your neck. "I didn't mean to interrupt. You were speaking out loud and-and I just had a feeling I needed to say something." You took in a deep breath, and Aether found the pink dusting your cheeks adorable. "I . . . I'll just go now - "

Aether didn't regret asking you to stay.

Before you came to his life, Aether did not know how much he was dwelling in the own hell he made. His inner tribulations, his worries, his insecurities - he only took notice the torture he was putting on himself when you keep saving him from his own mind.

At first, all he thought of you was a precious friend - someone he leaned on and entrusted with everything, whether it be secrets or help with his quests. He told you about his past, his twin, how exactly he was different from the people of Teyvat, how he and sister fought an unknown god, how she slipped from his fingers when he reached out for her, how much he wanted her back. He was terrified of what you may think of him when he told you these things, but to his surprise, all you did was wrap him in your arms and comforted him.

Along with Paimon, you were his dearest friend.

But as time passed, the longer you accompany him and Paimon in his travels, he noticed something strange. The way his heart skipped a beat when you smile at him, how he can't keep his eyes off you when you laugh at one of his tales, how his heart hammered ceaselessly when you press a chaste kiss on his cheek, the relief that seeps in his system when he sees you unscathed from a battle, how irritated he becomes when someone makes an offense against you, the joy that seizes him when he listens to you talking about something you loved, and how much he adored it when you scold him for being a little too reckless in fighting.

Aether, despite being older than he seems, did not know what to make of what he was feeling. It was strange, a good kind of strange - the kind of feeling that makes him feel like he was floating in the sky. All he thought of it was an overwhelming adoration for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

It wasn't until Paimon pointed it out did he realize what he was feeling for you.

Upon learning his feelings for you, Aether couldn't sleep for many nights. He was plagued with the desires of his heart and his insecurities. It was like falling back to the same hellish pattern before you came along.

He was in this world for one reason only - to find his twin. And when he does - and he fucking will - he will depart from here with her and continue their travels. Leaving you was the last thing he wanted. He couldn't bear the thought of it. It felt like leaving a piece of him behind in Teyvat, a hole in the shape of your name.

The solution he had for this is directly confessing to you. Of course, the blond was a nervous wreck when he approached you and asked for a moment of your time. Paimon knew of his plan and wandered away for the time being, wanting to give the two of your privacy.

If you did not share the same feelings as he, he can already imagine the pain he will have to deal with, but it'll be much easier to leave. At least then he knows you won't be as hurt as he thought once he takes his leave. He never entertained the idea of you reciprocating his feelings. It would be foolish to - surely you can't find anything appealing with someone like him ; to which you rendered him speechless and a bumbling mess when you pressed your lips against his when he was in the middle of his confession.

Aether shouldn't be this happy with you. He loved you too much to see you hurt when he tells you that he must leave. He was not welcome in this world, he was an outsider, a being not under the authority or influence of any Archons.

But still, he spent months loving you, caring for you, doing anything to come back to you no matter what is thrown at him. He loved having you in his arms when you slept, he loved watching the stars with you at night, he loved you even with the inevitable arguments you two have - Aether was utterly and hopeless in love with you.

And thus, he decided to tell you what will happen after he finds his sister.

He knew he would be heart broken in seeing you cry, but it hurt more to see you smile at to him so genuinely and embraced him, saying, "You used to doubt you'll ever find your sister. It broke my heart everyday seeing you so hopeless, and I - " You composed yourself, shaking your head as your tried to gather your thoughts. " - now look at you," You cupped his cheek, the corners of your eyes wrinkling as your smile broadened. "I always knew the day will come when you have to leave me. When you told me you weren't from this world, I knew then I'll have to let go of you someday. But until that day comes - Aether - "

What a shock it came to him when you got down on one knee and presented to him a glittering ring - there was unconditional love and hope in your eyes. It was like looking back at his reflection. "Marry me, Aether, let me make you happy for the rest of the days we still have remaining until you leave."

Aether can never say no to you.

To his surprise, Master Diluc has already agreed to host your wedding at Dawn Winery. Aether was puzzled as to why he seemed unsurprised by the news of his engagement with you, and the Claymore wielding male answered, "( Your Name ) came to me for help when she planned to propose to you."

Aether knew Diluc, as much as possible, wanted to be alone. A lone wolf, he was. But with gratitude for what he has done, he asked him to be his best man. Diluc was startled by this requests but obliged. The red head might not show it but he was immensely flattered by Aether asking him to be his best now (and now time to subtly show it off to Kaeya).

At the day of the wedding, contrary to what he thought he would feel, Aether woke up with his an ache in his chest. He found himself looking out the window of his room, torn between his happiness and sorrow.

In a few hours, Aether will be able to adorn a ring on your finger, symbolizing your promises with one another. He shall be granted the sole blessing of calling your his wife. It was something he was looking forward to - seeing you in your wedding dress, watching as you walk down the aisle -

But Aether's mind kept drifting back to his sister - She would have wanted to be here. He thought.

Aether felt like he was committing a crime when he decided to take a walk just hours before his wedding. But he needed to clear his mind. Lumine never left his mind. He always thought that they would always be there for one another, or at least in big moments like this.

And yet she was still nowhere to be seen.

Is she still alive? Have I been wasting time? Is she still in danger? Is she lost in Teyvat as well?

"Didn't expect to run into you here."

His body tensed when he heard your voice, and he twirled around only to have his breath taken away.

You stood before him in the white dress he had longed to see ever since you proposed to him. He thought he would see a frown on your face, dismayed for his impromptu walk, but you wore a soft smile - a soft and understanding smile.

Aether did know what to say to you. He just stared at you, overwhelmed.

He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't say anything. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed.

You approached him and kissed his cheek. He hummed in delight, eyes closing. "I hope you're not having second thoughts on marrying me." You told him.

Aether was quick to respond. He took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. He looked into your eyes with affirming hues, "There is nothing I'm more sure of than marrying you."

You beamed at him. Seeing your face brighten up is always a beautiful sight for Aether, and it was enough for him to feel enlightened in the midst of his internal crisis.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Of course you can already tell something is bothering him. Aether shook his head. He has already ruined a small part of what is supposed to be a perfect day, he can't risk another mistake.

"I'm not going to push you to tell me anything." You stated.

Aether smiled. "Thank you." He replied. He gazed at you for a little while, taking you in. "Why are you out here anyway? And in your wedding dress too."

Your eyes widened and you looked down to assess his evaluation. "Oh Archons," You mewled. "I forgot I was wearing this." You let out a groan. "Great, now my surprise is ruined. I won't be able to see you cry when you see me walk down the aisle."

He laughed a little. "But still happy as ever to see you." He said. "So why are you outside?"

"Just . . . " You began, and Aether can detect a hint of nervousness in your voice. " . . . picking some flowers."

"I thought we already ordered flowers." Aether thought, frowning. "Did someone forget to deliver the flowers? I can call someone if - "

"No, I just wanted to pick some flowers, randomly. Like how you wanted to take a walk, randomly."

He looked at you with hesitant eyes. He didn't believe you. There was something hidden behind your motive to be out here. But like how you didn't press him with what was the problem, he did the same for you.

"Okay," He breathed out. "What flowers did you pick then?"

Aether's breath hitched when you pulled out a bundle of Windwheel Asters and several more flowers that was all too familiar with him.

He stared at the white flowers that combined with your Windwheel Asters, the very flowers that he remembered adorned his sister's hair.

"Aether? Aether are you okay?"

He stared at you with glistening eyes, his heart blossoming with adoration and gratitude. Without even meaning to, you managed to make everything alright.

"Yeah," He smiled at you. "I'm okay."

Aether thought when he stood at the altar, he would have Diluc trying to soothe his nerves as his insecurities slowly sink in his mind. But it didn't happen. Diluc merely stood by him with a relaxed expression, glancing at him every now and then.

"You don't look nervous at all." Diluc remarked.

Aether chuckled. "This is the only decision I fully know I won't regret."

Aether felt like it was his first time seeing you in your wedding dress. His heart was filled with the brim with utmost joy, but what caught his attention was the bouquet of flowers in your hands.

You told him before that you will have roses as your bouquet, but to his surprise, he can see the Windwheel Asters and the white flowers that reminded him of his sister.

His emotions was all over the place. He had no idea how he could look so calm. Somehow he managed to hold himself together until you finally stood before him.

When you stared at him behind the veil, he couldn't take it anymore. You were too perfect. How could he be so blessed with you?

Tears sprung to his eyes when you reached out to take his hands in yours. He retracted one of them to rub his arm across his eyes, wiping away the wetness that streamed to his face.

Why am I crying like a child in my wedding? Stop it!

He couldn't.

He only cried harder when you leaned forward, removed his arm from his eyes, made him look into your vibrant hues, to give a small peck on his lips - "You're okay, Aether."

BENNETT

Bennett understood his bad luck more than anyone. He had lived with and through it his entire life he graced the surface of the earth. It was almost pitiful to see the boy smiling ever so brightly as misfortune after misfortune comes hurtling his way, but to him? It was an everyday and normal occurrence, nothing he hasn't seen or experienced before. His spirits has never let their roaring flame vanish, however, and if it had not been for his bad luck, everyone would have been drawn to his warm, welcoming, affable, and cheerful soul.

But just because he was used to the constant array of debacle thrown his way, doesn't mean there were never days where he won't be upset over everything it brought to his life, and others as well, and wonder how long it will take until his unluckiness will lead him back to the very situation he was rescued from when he was a mere baby.

He forgot how long it was when he had experienced something good, miraculously so. The only time he can recall being so was when he encountered the Honorary Knight, convened with them as a temporary adventure team, and found a treasure chest containing items he has only dreamed of in his sleep deep within a domain. However, that was many moons ago, and nothing has ever compared to it ever since. The moment he departed from the Honorary Knight, his bad luck came instantly to bite him.

It was far too long ago. Sometimes, Bennett wondered if that would be the only good thing that can happen to him in his lifetime, and thank the Archons he was wrong because the very worst day that came upon him is a day he will never exchange for another - the day he met you. When it was raining, thunder in the distance, lightning striking trees and soil, his bruised and bleeding form hardly covered under a small and flimsy tent, you graced him with your presence, and an umbrella which you used to cover both of you.

He had never stopped admiring you ever since. His eyes always followed you, wide and shining. He remembered the warmth in his chest and the redness tinting his cheeks when you brought him to your abode and treated his wounds with care gentler than the Deaconess. When he told you what happened to him, he anticipated to he shoved out of the house immediately and have your front door slammed on his face, but you did not. When he warned you about his curse, telling you how you will be affected when you spend a little too much time with him, the look of fright did not cross your visage and you even insisted that he not leave your house until you were sure he was capable of moving without pain, even if you had instantly been affected by his unluckiness (you pricked your finger quite badly when you were stitching a deep wound of his. He always felt guilty for that and has not stopped offering his apologies whenever it pricks the corner of his mind).

Other than the team of adventurers who had saved him from peril when he was a baby, it was difficult to find someone who will stay with him, through bad times and more of it. One cannot simply imagine and comprehend the confusion and happiness that seized him when he found out you were spending more and more time with him, not out pity but because you enjoy his company (which was weird, but he'll take it).

You possessed no Vision, but Bennett never saw you in an inferior light. In fact, it impressed him how you can hold yourself without the aid of any power. Enemies took a little longer to eradicate but ultimately, you were always successful. He held you in high regard, and very much like a certain blond traveler, the poor boy thought it was merely friendship and respect he felt towards you. After all, wouldn't a friend accompany him in his adventures no matter what disappointing or gratifying the outcome is? Wouldn't a friend prepare meals for him before he goes off on a solo expedition? Wouldn't a friend stay up late up waiting for him to return after? Wouldn't a friend welcome him by the entrance of Mondstadt upon his arrival? Wouldn't a friend give him butterflies in his stomach? Wouldn't a friend make his heart pound in a way

It had taken the Traveler and his floating companion for Bennett to learn about how exactly he was feeling for you.

He liked you, and not in the way he liked the traveler or Razor - he liked liked you.

When he realized about his feelings, Bennett nearly short circuit every time you go near him. His face flush a rich color of vermillion, his confident posture stripped down to a coy and uncertain stance, his eyes darted and never meeting yours for too long, a sheepish smile painted over his brims - Bennett had never felt this way before. It was foreign to him - liking someone - and it was worse for him because you were his one of his few friends (you, Razor, the Traveler and their floating friend), and having you withdraw from him if you ever learned his feelings frightened him more than any Ruin Guard could.

He didn't bother entertaining the idea of you returning his feelings. With his bad luck, it was bound to end in a rejection, and he didn't believe he had the heart to accept the hurt that would come.

Bennett tried to keep his feeling a secret, he really, genuinely, did. He locked his feelings for you in a box and stowed away somewhere behind his mind. But it didn't take you too long to catch on. Bennett's theatrics wasn't as impenetrable as he originally thought because there was no other reason for you to corner him in a street in Mondstadt after he tried to avoid crossing paths with you, and admit your feelings to him.

"( Your Name )," Stuttered Bennett, eyes darting to the side to avoid your eyes as he pressed his back against the wall behind him. You gazed at him, a tint of red over your cheek.

Archon, how are you so adorable?

"Uh, hi," He greeted meekly, as he rubbed the back of his head. "I-I was just about to leave for an adventure - "

"Bennett," You spoke, and he froze at the tone of your voice.

He looked at you properly, gulping. Shy eyes, shy smile, shy, shy, shy - and yet somehow, Bennett thought the worse - that you found out about his feelings and was about to turn him down.

He almost got down on his knees and press his hands together in a praying position, head bowed, and beg to keep your friendship. It didn't matter if you did not share his feelings. You were more important than his stupid feelings. He can deal with the hurt of rejection that will soon to come, but losing you completely? Can he even come to terms with that?

But before he can do such humiliating display, you leaned in and pressed a kiss on his cheek,

It was almost too good to be true, and with someone like him, Bennett had to take a moment to comprehend what has happened. His feelings were reciprocated, opposite of what should have been considering his dilemma. How can this be? He was sure your friendship would be put to an end when you learn about what he felt for you. How did you even know that he liked you? Has he been too obvious? Surely not (he was). Perhaps you were merely toying with him, discovering his feelings and choosing to use it as a way to alleviate your boredom -

Horror struck him when he processed the message behind his doubt. How could he think so little of you? Someone as sweet and kind as you would be repulsed by the intention of the actions he thought you were presenting to him. Prideful as this may sound, Bennett believed he knew you enough to know you were sincere in everything you do.

But even if both your feelings are revealed to be mutual, the two of you agreed to wait until a certain age before forming a romantic relationship. The two of you are young and there are a lot more the world can offer outside Mondstadt. There are countless of opportunities to grow and be mature, to be able to have a set of qualities to take of one another.

But that didn't mean the two of you easily managed to hold back showcasing your favor for the other. Bennett will always find himself exchanging secret glances and smile with you whenever a third party joins in on your adventure. He would stick by your side in situations he think could potentially lead you to a major injury. He will attempt (and fail, unfortunately) to whip you up with something delicious when he has free time. And you did the same to him.

With you, there was never a time where his heart wasn't beating against his chest. He can't stop himself from bounding recklessly through his adventures whenever you accompany him, although he will still keep a close eye on you just in case something bad happens to you (but it's always him who ends up injured).

But what he liked the most are the kisses the two of you share. Short, chaste, and shy - whether it be behind closed doors, when others are looking away, or when the two of you set of on an adventure.

Bennett would lay in his bed with a smile on his face, his thundering heart preventing him from sleeping. He'll often find himself burying his face against his pillow, grinning from ear to ear.

This smile was different. This wasn't smile that he usually wore, the kind of smile that persevered through hardship after another. No, it was the sort of smile that was too carefree and too full of utmost joy, no worries or doubts in his heart. Everyday he always woke up to the excitement of adventure, but now, the excitement of it and seeing you once again always had him brimming with the want for the night to be over with so he can chase after his dreams with you. Chasing his dreams with you, what a life.

His world is full of a bad luck, but he thanked the Archons for giving him someone he can depend on in the troubling waters he always he seem to drown in.

Bennett, embarrassing it may sound, often laid on his bed imagining about marrying you.

He can see himself making a fool out of himself when he gets down on one knee and propose to you. It'll be set in the most beautiful place he discovered in one of his adventure, somewhere quiet. Like maybe on top of a mountain overseeing a vast field.

Because of his bad luck, he'll try to prepare for every outcome. To be very sure everything will be saved, he made sure he created a plan B for his plan A, a plan C for his plan B, and so on, and so forth.

He can imagine himself fumbling over his words, blushing a bright red was made prominent because of his white hair, holding a bunch of hand picked flowers a little too tightly, sweat pouring from his face, his suit and hair a little ruffled -

If you say yes (spoiler alert, you will), he will most probably go haywire with shock and happiness, causing him to drop the ring down the mountain, and the two of you will spend quite some time looking for it. But in the end, you two will find it somewhere deep underground or deep underwater (to which you will ask help to retrieve) (Bennett offered to go down to get the ring but you can’t take any chances) and then you can start planning the wedding.

If Bennett had backup plans for his proposal, then expect there'll be much more backups with your wedding. He needed this day to be perfect for you, and his bad luck won't stop him from providing it for you. Even if he had to fight through horde after horde of Hilichurls (please stop him when he does, he definitely will do that for you), making you happy is his top priority.

Bennett will be extremely anxious the day before the wedding. He'll be pacing around his room, and has half a mind of running over to your place and spending the night there to reassure himself that you still want to marry him, and that you’re absolutely sure you want to spend the rest of your life with him. It will be Razor - who the Traveler spent hours teaching the basic information of the role of Best Man to - who will calm his nerves. He’ll stop Bennett from reaching your house and carry him back to his own, and giving him a lecture (he did his best) like the best man he was.

Was he having second thoughts on marrying you? No way! He will just be nervous about how the wedding will go. With his bad luck, something horrible is bound to happen.

At the day of the wedding, Bennett can imagine himself constantly seeking reassurance from his best man.

"What if I mess up?" Questions Bennett to Razor, anxious hands fiddling with his tie.

"Messing up is . . . normal." Razor will reassure him, but Bennett will shake his head.

“But it's me. When I mess up, it's always . . . catastrophic . . . ”

Bennett hoped that at least for his wedding way, everything will go smoothly. A perfect day, for you and for him. He won't embarrass you or himself. He won't forget the rings, he won't have his clothes tucked inside out, he will not spill any food or drinks on himself or on his guests, there will be no random Hilichurl attacks - none of that.

He really hoped for the Archons to spare him from his bad luck.

He will be able to stand by the altar with confidence and a smile, waiting for you to walk down the aisle.

As Bennett is consumed with his thoughts, his eyes drew to the small table at the side of his bed and caught sight of the picture of the two of you perched on the surface. It was a picture you took with a kamera after one of his adventures. The two of you smiling happily as he showcased the loot of vegetables and wheat he gathered in numerous luxurious chests. It was good day, that picture was. He found more resources than usual. Of course, he learned from the Traveler that most of the chest they found contained treasures but hey, vegetables are better than nothing, right?

Bennett stared at your smiling face and can feel the heat creep on his cheeks as he imagined you in a pretty, white wedding dress, smiling at him so shyly and cute - oh, Archons, help him. May them have mercy on him. Of course, you always looked pretty to him - so, so pretty - but in your wedding day? Archons, he doesn't know if he can take that. It'll be too much for his big heart.

He can only imagine how your wedding will play out, but there is one thing he was sure of and that is that he will burst into tears once he laid his eyes upon you - and not the soft cry most men do in their wedding, oh, not at all like that. His heart is too big with too much love for you, and too soft to control his emotions properly.

Bennett will cry (bawl, actually), his tears of joy coming in streams, and it was loud enough for strangers to think he was grieving over a deceased loved one. He was hiccupping and sobbing, will probably be holding on to his vest tightly as if his entire lifeline depended on the pressure of how he crumpled the fabric. He hoped that in that time, Razor or the Traveler will lend him a hand and calm him down before he can ruin his own wedding.

Bennett, as he happily imagined that fateful day to come in the future (spoilers again, it will) did not feel a tear slip from the corner of his eye as he drifted off to a pleasant slumber with a beaming smile.

The boy absolutely adores you.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #aether x reader #bennett x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader

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