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wishing--butterfly · 1 year

Text

hold me, touch me, love me

Characters: Aaron Warner x fem!reader (established relationship)

I imagine reader and Aaron being in their 20s

Genre: SMUT, fluff (just you and aaron being hopelessly in love with each other)

Warnings: SMUT, Unprotected sex (please always be safe), mentions of fingering and oral (f!receiving), a little bit of doggy style at the end, edging (sort of…), cursing, lots of kissing, Aaron being a tease, Aaron Warner (yeah, he’s a warning himself)

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: I think I sort of got carried away. Had to write this one because Restore Me constantly mentioned about Aaron’s “breathless gasps” and I know sounds beautiful. I’m hella embarrassed so there’s a chance I might delete this later. Also, beautiful header credits goes to @/cafekitsune !

I’m writing smut for the first time as well. In general, please be nice and respectful to me and everyone.

I hope you enjoy! :) Please do LIKE, comment or reblog if you enjoy ❤️

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT! 18+ ONLY.

It was late at night when the two of you indulged yourself in the stillness of the late hours, the darkness enveloping you from the world as Aaron kisses you, holding you flush against his body as you pulled away for air but immediately latched your lips against his defined jaw. His five o'clock shadow tickled your cheeks a little which made you smile against his skin.

Your lips traced his soft skin, sucking and nibbling on spots to ease the pain but in fact it was only making Aaron breathless. A sharp gasp escaped his lips when your teeth slightly grazed the soft spot on his neck, his hold on your hips tightening. Aaron couldn't handle the heat and need to taste you so bad. His fingers tugged on your hair to pull you away from his neck. The action made a moan escape your lips which made Aaron stare at you with hooded eyes; palest shade of emerald irises filled with utmost love and an emotion you were too shy to consider, desire pooling. His lips found yours, hands travelling up and down your body, feeling you up in an intoxicating way.

The way he kisses you, marking your heart and soul made you both feel like there was no neccesity for air. As if you could relinquish oxygen for this. This felt like the best way to go. It was a constant reminder that even after all the wonders and surprises the world could offer, moments like these were always different, always so memorable. Each touch, each sound, each action tattooing in your hearts and souls.

Both of your hearts raced in a steady rhythm. Your heartbeat elevated, the rapid sound of it droning in your ears. He gently placed your hand to let it rest atop his chest, just above his heart. And your eyes stinged with emotion. His was thundering against his chest so loud he was sure you could hear it.

Aaron felt your needy hands travel through the expanse of his torso, tracing his broad chest to his abdomen, heated skin on fire wherever your fingers traced as you reached down to pull him even closer by his belt. He felt shivers down his spine, each touch of yours sending him on a tingling edge, a high he never wanted to come down from. Your hands tugged desperately at his shirt, unbuttoning each button quickly and before you know it, he has already taken it off, pulling away to breath for air. The heat and tension between the two of you clouded your senses, lips chasing his in an attempt to close the distance.

Aaron flashes you a breathtaking smile, dimples and a flush of pink painting his cheeks and he looked so beautiful, so adorable, so enchanting that it made you stop for a moment and marvel at the man in front of you. Aaron was stunning, a dream, someone so amazing inside out. How is he so beautiful?

You probably said those words out loud because he chuckled lightly, the sound tugging at your heartstrings, "You give me too much credit, sweetheart. But thank you so much. It means so much to me hearing that from you."

"Well I'm just stating the truth."

"Mhm, is that so?"

He bites his lower lip to stop a giggle but nevertheless his lips still tugged up with a smile before his hands wraps around your waist and the back of your neck, lips locking with yours hungrily. Aaron pulls your clothed self to his warm body, closer beyond possibilty. You nibbled on his lower lip before opening up for him. You could feel the hard ridges, dips of his muscles, chest heaving with each intake of air, compelling you to touch the smooth skin of his flawless chest. He gently pushes you back, backing away until your knees hit the edge of the bed and you fall backwards, pulling him with you.

The moment causes you both to break the kiss, pulling a smile from the both of you. Aaron leans down to kiss you deeply again, an audible 'mm' escapes his lips at the blissful meeting of your lips with his, the sound making heat pool at your abdomen.

His eyes would occasionally open up a little to look at your reactions, to see if there's any sign discomfort from you. When he found none, he intertwined your hands together, squeezing your hand in reassurance.

Your hands finds solace on his broad shoulders this time, fingers travelling down his bare chest, so warm and firm, his skin soft as your fingers traced valleys and rivers at every dip and curve of his defined muscles. He visibly relaxed under your touch, his free hand reaching down to cup your cheek. Aaron moaned quietly when your fingers caressed his abs, shuffling to cup him from the pants, outline evident through his desire and need for you. His lips part against yours in a soft moan when your fingers teased his clothed length which caused him to involuntarily grind against your hand, making him break the kiss for a moment, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

Your hands unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning the pants. Slipping your hand inside, you started stroking his length in a painstakingly slow motion. He hummed, biting his lips when your thumb pressed on his tip, his eyes blinding with pleasure. Aaron was sure that he was losing his mind, pleasure blurring the edges between reality and an euphoric dream. He stopped your movements when he started feeling too good, white hot pleasure shooting up his veins. He was so close but he wanted to finish with you, inside of you.

He could feel your heat, your need to have him close against you and he has been right there with you; hands fumbling with your jeans desperately. Your actions and need for him left him intoxicated, head fuzzing out all thoughts out of his mind but you, you, you. It felt addicting, unreal, impossible to him that you want him as much as he wants you. So close, so much that it felt unfathomable to thread it through vocabulary.

His lips kissed your jaw, down to your collarbone as he marked you, smiling against your skin at the moans and whimpers of his name you let out.

When he felt your fingers reach his pants to unbuckle his belt all the way to pull him out, he broke away and held both your wrists in one hand. A smooth, unbelievably attractive smirk etched on his lips, "Not so quickly, sweetheart. I have to remove these restraints from yours first. It's not fair that you're fully clothed. "

And soon you found yourself and him naked to each others eyes.

Aaron knelt between your legs in all his glory, chest heaving up and down, a trickle of sweat trailing down his cheek as he held his cock, stroking and squeezing it tight all the while staring at you, intensive gaze filled with so much passion that it felt like he could light your insides on fire. He let go of torturing himself further and hovered above you, one hand caressing the skin of your hips and the other resting beside your head.

He is breathtaking in every way possible. You really need him inside you. But the way he was looking at you, so passionately, gaze filled with unbridled emotions, like he could see right through you. You felt bare underneath him in more ways than one. You almost felt a little self conscious for a moment before his fingers found your weeping entrance, teasing you and never breaking eye contact. And in the stillness of the hour, in the private whispers of the late night breeze Aaron swore, "You are a freaking goddess, baby.”

You moaned, it was impossible to hold yourself; first, his teasing fingers and then the way he was looking at you made you close your eyes just so that you could hold onto your sanity before you let go, before you let your wants devour this man on top of you. His eyes too intense, irises pooling with deepening emotions. Also, he rarely swore but he let go in the moment, too careless to worry about what he was even saying anymore, which was a plus.

His lips kissed down your body, your skin on fire wherever his lips traced invisible lines on your frame. Aaron kissed you in the most sensitive areas, a gasp leaving your lips as your fingers immediately buried in his hair, holding him as if to ground yourself to this moment. He nipped, sucked, ate you out in such a way that you were struggling to breath, one hand clutching the comforter so tight that you were sure it would tear off. The gasping, the heavy breathing, you losing yourself in pleasure made Aaron lose himself in the beauty of your chase. It was an auto pilot response, the way his hips started grinding against the comforter for some friction but you caught on.

"Aaron, I— ah, wait— I see you! Don't you dare! I want to touch you and come with you— " You were cut off when he gently bit the skin under your thigh.

He stopped his movements and stared up at you, his chin glistening in the dim lighting of your room, eyes taunting and teasing in a way that made you clench around nothing, "Oh yeah?"

This side of Aaron Warner has always felt new to you, exclusively and only for you. That teasing gaze filled with mischief and ideas you could only wonder. If he could, he would tease you forever, edging himself and you to the point where later he ends up driving his hips into you to a state of oblivion.

Hard and merciless and heavenly and gentle is Aaron Warner.

"Aaron, please — "

"Please what, baby?" You could hear the smile in his voice. He let go of your thighs to climb up your frame. His thumb tugged at your lower lip, "Look at me, sweetheart. Talk to me."

Aaron could be such a tease that sometimes it made you want to yank his hair out but you knew better. He loves his hair too much so you wouldn't do that ever.

You huffed, eyes still clenched shut, “Need you inside me.”

“Look at me first.” Aaron's voice dropped, husky and seductive, commanding to some degree which pulled you into a trance like the angelic devil he is. So alluring, so seductive.

You opened your eyes to see him scanning your features, tracing from your eyebrows to your eyes, resting a little longer at your lips. But he willed himself to look back up at you.

“I want to touch you, Aaron. Can I?” You asked what you initially wanted before the said confession, chest heaving up and down rapidly as your hands traced his bicep.

Aaron simply smiled, that dimple one, “You don’t even have to ask, love. I’m all yours.” He kisses your nose gently. But when you sat up to touch him, he held your shoulders, “But not today, okay? I really need to be inside you.” His voice was feather soft, caressing your cheek in assurance. He felt a little worried about your reaction but when you saw the look in his eyes, you nodded eagerly and settled down back on the sheets.

“Now tell me what you want me to do.”

You almost choked on air, sputtering, “Wha– you already know! Why do I have to say it…” Heat rushed to your cheeks because of his proposition. You hide your face behind your hands, lightly slapping his arm in protest.

Aaron knows everything so well and knows exactly what you want. It’s just that he has a habit of flustering you to no end, have you all shy in his arms before he indulged in you, devoured you. He finds so much pleasure in seeing you all shy and then moaning out his name to the world the very next moment.

He laughs, “Don’t hide yourself from me now. Or do you want me to tie your hands?”

You pulled your hands away from your face just to squint at him, shooting him a look of faux disinterest as if your heart isn’t just thundering against your ribcage, “You wouldn’t.”

“I never lie, sweetheart.”

That shut you up. You knew that riling Aaron up to no end would just end the night in a completely different state, till dawn even. Not that you minded, because it’s always a win-win situation.

Aaron placed an exaggerated kiss on your tummy, “Now tell me. I need instructions, baby. My patience is running thin.” You felt his thumb unconsciously graze the inside of your thighs.

"Aaron, please... Make love to me. I need to feel you," Your hands travelled up to thread through his hair, fingers caressing and tugging on his blonde locks, "Touch me, Aaron. Want you so bad." You internally whined because of how cringe you thought you sounded, but it’s a totally different story for your lover.

And then he was gone. It was a frenzy of emotions and actions as he sinked into you. Both of you moaned loudly at the feeling; so freakishly insane and beautiful that it knocked the air out of your lungs. It made you mad with emotions, this connection. It’s a reminder that Aaron was really yours and you were his, a reminder that despite whatever the world throws at you, the two of you still believe and love each other.

"I love you, Aaron." Those words escaped your lips inadvertently, his thrusts stuttering for a moment before he picked up his pace.

Both of you lost yourselves in the feeling of each other, each meeting increasing his pace as you met his thrusts. This was always something which felt beyond the description of 'beautiful', a state of infinite euphoria. An addicting ecstasy so delicious that it made you breathless, stars exploding behind your eyelids.

He felt so good, so freaking good. The blunt head of his cock touching parts inside of you that you thought was impossible. A particularly harsh thrust made your eyes roll back to your head. His movements are so fluid, so precise, so deep. He was driving you insane, that being his aim. You are addicted to the feeling, making you arch your back off the mattress.

Your warmth, wetness and tightness embraced him in a deliciously vice like grip, your scent reaching his senses and he was already drunk off of you. The squelching noise between your bodies grew, making your ears heat up but you also couldn't care less. This is your and Aaron's private moment after all.

Aaron groaned, his grunts growing louder with time, movements growing deeper, harder, “Oh, love. My beautiful, beautiful love,” He is practically a babbling mess, breathing heavily when you clenched around his length, your heat pulsing rapidly, “I love you so much, you have no idea.” That tugged at your heartstrings and you wanted to reply but you couldn't; his thrusts rendered you speechless and breathless.

It's pure instinct when he moves to embrace your entire figure within his arms, thrusting into you at a different angle which definitely felt even more deeper, hitting your spot so perfectly. Your gasps and moans fueled his urgent desire to feel you closer and make you come. His biceps flex as he pins you down, pounding mercilessly into you. You moaned his name like a prayer, chanting his name like he’s the only one filling each of your senses. Aaron. Aaron. Aaron.

He stared down at you; head thrown back, eyes clenched shut, moaning out his name in wanton as you moved together with his harsh and fast thrusts. You looked so beautiful in his eyes, his to love and his to hold. You feel like a dream to him, someone so gentle and kind, someone who took care of him in a way he never expected.

His hands grasped the comforter beside your head tightly at the increasing fervour of the movements. The room fills up with the sound of rapid skin-slapping, moans reverberating off the walls. He gasped for air, uninhibited moans escaping his pretty pink swollen lips. Your name leaving his lips in a state of absolute bliss, just you filling each and every fibre of his being. Aaron's eyebrows scrunched together, eyes closed in concentration to not let go soon. Sweat trickled down his temples and clavicle, landing on your chest. His cheeks were flushed pink, lips opening to let out a quiet moan, a whimper even.

Dear God, how is he so pretty?

You tightened so hard making Aaron throw his head back at the bliss, so wet and so warm, so tight; all for him.

That thought ignited something in him, hands fumbling down to hold your hips in place as his fingers trailed down your bottom to the back of your thighs, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist to adjust the angle and pace. He started thrusting harder and faster. Now, he was moving in a completely different pace.

"Aaron— ah— slow down— "

“I can't, love. You feel too good— ” He sucks in a breath when your hands trails up to embrace him, as if holding onto him for dear life.

Your fingers travel down his clavicle and rest just above his chest. Aaron looks down at you with hooded eyes, barely able to keep them open due to the ecstasy filling his senses. His eyes searched yours, for any sign for discomfort. When he found none, he relaxed a little. But then you had to run your mouth,

"God, you sound so good and feel so, so good. I could never— ah, shit— get tired of your voice. Your moans — "

Aaron cut you off with a groan, his hips slamming against yours in an unforgiving pace. He was slowly losing it, having already lost himself in you, he decides this wasn't enough. He needs to have you even closer.

"I need you to flip over for me, love," Aaron huffed, urgency lacing his voice as he pulled out of you. He helped you get into position, taking in a moment to marvel at your beautiful back, stretch marks painting parts of your skin. You are perfect in his eyes.

"You are so beautiful, love." He confessed, caressing your ass before lining himself to your entrance, "Right back in..." He gasped at your tightness again, warmth embracing him, heat travelling up his spine.

You moaned loudly, muffling the sounds against your pillow which smelled so much like Aaron; gardenias with a hint of peppermint. You were right near the edge and knew Aaron is right there with you, his hold on your hips tightening.

“I’m close— ” You breathlessly gasped, the coil tightening in your abdomen.

You were close, so close but Aaron pulled out. A cry of protest settled on your tongue before he flipped you on your back and pushed right back in, your wetness being more than enough lubricant to push himself into your plush warm walls. You screamed, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“Right there with you, love,” Aaron has a habit, a natural response, an unspoken urge to always see your face when you come undone on him, for him, so lost in the pleasure that your climax always pushed his, “Come. Come on my cock, baby.”

The moment he said those words, the tightening coil inside you snapped. You moaned loudly, the climax hitting you in waves that you had to turn to your side and bury your face in the pillows to calm your voice. But Aaron wasn’t having it. He merely grabbed the pillow and threw it on the floor.

Your tightness triggered Aaron’s climax, hips stuttering against with no rhythm. You stared up at his beautiful face, trying to blink away the blur, “Want to come inside me, handsome?” You teased him which awarded you with a sharp thrust into your already sensitive walls. He playfully glared at you.

“If you continue talking to me like this, I’ll keep you up all the night. Till we see the dawn.” Aaron groaned, to which you feigned nonchalance. But it only ignited your excitement.

He leaned down to kiss you, wanting to muffle his grunts and moans as he felt himself coming. But this time, you are not having it. Wanting to hear his moans, you pulled him away as your fingers tugged on the roots of his hair. Aaron whined, you pulling on his hair immediately making him come.

Even though breathless, he still had to say,

"Oh love, I could stay inside you for the rest of my life. Hide you away from the world if that means I get to take you any time, every time."

• • • • • • • • • • •

(a/n 2: tbh reading his thoughts from his pov and his extreme desires and needs really makes me feel like he does dirty talk but in such a rich way, seducing you to no end)

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lxvebelle · 2 months

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First big fight with Aaron Warner? With hurt/comfort/angst??👀

AHHHHHH okay so i havent wrote angst yet but HERE IT GOES!!

❪ ★ ❫ 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: aaron warner x fem!reader.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you thought that the two of you could fix it together. turns out it was when he missed your birthday was when it all fell down.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: angst, crying, use of Y/N, fem!reader, kissing, arguing, breaking up, angst with fluff at the end, aaron warner crying, stress, missing special days.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 1530

𝐀/𝐍: redid this too. i feel like i made this too dramatic though😭😭 idk. BUT I LOVR MY MAN HAHGGHDHGAGEGR🫶🫶 also this was my first angst work so DONT GET MAD AT ME FOR THIS BEING TRADHY OKAY

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✗

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: nahh

it’s been too much. at first, it was just going to bed late, but he still slept with you. then it was not seeing you for a while. then he missed your birthday. your birthday.

you understand that aaron has a lot on his hands, he needs to do his work. but lately, he hasn’t been spending time with you. at all.

yes, juliette and the others are a great company. but it’s nothing compared to the company you have with your boyfriend. or, at least, you used to have. now, you two are in your bedroom. arguing.

you two have never argued, it was mostly just small disagreements that you two immediately fixed. but this—this was a real argument.

“i just—i just feel like you haven’t been spending time with me. like you put your work above me,” you argue, looking at the blond man in front of you. he looks at you with a mix of hurt and frustration.

“love, you have to understand that i have work to do—” he begins, but you cut him off. “and i know that! but you missed my birthday, aaron. my birthday,” you cry, your eyes getting blurry with tears.

aaron sighs and runs a hand down his face. “i know, and that was a mistake. and i’m sorry, angel, but i have to do my work. i have to take care of the reestablishment or it will all come down.”

You blink at him in surprise, before chuckling softly. “right, so, what I’m hearing is: I do love you but my work is more important than you because the reestablishment is more important than my girlfriend?” you ask, looking at him in disbelief.

he looks at you with his eyebrows scrunched up, looking at you with the same expression you have. “no—what—i’m just saying that i have to do my work—wait—no, that’s not what i’m—”

“aaron. if you don’t love me anymore, just say it. don’t slowly push yourself away from me, because that’s much worse than just doing it straight up.”

you’re lying. it’ll hurt either way. this hurts. the argument; aaron not paying attention to you anymore; him missing your birthday. he looks at you with wide eyes.

“what—no, that’s not what i’m saying. i—i have my work to do and—”

“—and i understand that. you have to take care of the reestablishment while i have to take care of north america. it’s just—i tried to make time for you, aaron. i tried to let juliette and nazeera help me with my work so i can spend time with you—but you just want to take care of the reestablishment.”

he gapes at you, looking for words. “what are you saying, love?” you bite your trembling lip. “don’t call me love. let’s—let’s take a break, aaron,” you whisper.

he freezes before words come out of his mouth frantically. “no, no, no, no—wait, love. we can work this out—i’ll make time for you, just—”

you take a deep breath, putting your head down. this is for the best. “you tried doing that, and you just ended up hurting me,” you whisper, looking up at him.

your heart breaks at the sight, but you keep standing. his eyes are filled with tears but none fall, the opposite of you. tears from your eyes fall from your eyes, landing on your cheek.

“love, please. I know you don’t want to do this—I feel it. please, just give me a chance.”

before you could give in, you took a step back and put your head down. “i’m sorry, aaron.” You don’t know why you’re saying sorry. “love, please,” he whispers, looking at you desperately.

you keep your head down as you turn on your heel and walk out of the room.

it’s been a week. a week of you and Aaron not even talking to each other. the only time you look at each other is when he has to pass you the work he did. but you feel him glancing at you, watching from afar.

you moved out of the room you two were sharing and moved in with juliette. she listened to your vent and tears, comforting you when it became too much.

but you’ve changed ever since the two of you—or more like you—broke up. you’ve begun to smile less. you’re starting to have eye bags underneath your eyes and you don’t feel good nowadays.

“Y/N,” juliette says, bringing you out of your daze. “hm?” you hum as you turn to the brunette girl, looking at you with worry. “are you okay?”

you blink at her, looking at you with an expression you know all too well. “yeah, i’m okay. why do you ask?”

“you look terrible,” nazeera butts in. juliette turns to her and frowns but she doesn’t disagree. you sigh and look back down at your papers. “i’m fine, just out of it,” you mutter.

you look at the two girls and smile at them, but that doesn’t clear their worry. instead, that makes them worry more. “alright,” juliette mumbles.

the door knocks and the person behind it waits a moment before opening it the door. In front of it, is a familiar blond. “warner,” juliette says, looking between you and him.

you resist the urge to stare and look down at your papers, going back to work. “i just wanted to hand you some papers,” he says, taking a few steps into the room.

that’s always been him. he doesn’t fully step into the room until you’ve said he could, unless on bad days when he just needs you.

you grit your teeth and scold yourself for thinking like that again.

papers settle down on your desk and you realize that nazeera and juliette left, leaving you alone with aaron.

you make a mental note to yell at them later.

aaron stands there on the side of your desk, not talking or doing anything. “yes?” you ask, looking up at him. not to look into his green eyes. no. of course not.

he stares at you, not blinking. until he finally says, “you have eye bags.” you blink up at him before putting your head down, a blush of embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

“yeah, i know.”

“and your hair looks unbrushed.”

“yeah, i know.”

“and you’re sad.”

you don’t answer. “love,” aaron whispers, making your stomach flutter. you don’t do anything. “love, please, at least answer me.”

you blink and look up at him again. you realize how messed up he is, too. his hair is unruly and his tie is unloosed; his suit looks like it was messily put on.

“yes?”

he slowly sits down, as if warning you what he’s doing. you look at him curiously but then look back down to your papers.

“please, look at me,” he asks. you don’t look at him and instead start to write something down on your paper. “love,” he tries again. you don’t look at him.

his hands find your chin and he turns your face to look at him, his jaw clenched. “you can yell at me, scream at me, punch me, slap me—revolt me, but do not; ignore me.”

your eyes widen in surprise and soon the two of you are staring at each other. “my love, i know you’re hurting,” he finally whispers.

“i’m not,” you finally answer. he closes his eyes before opening back up, looking at you. “yes, you are. i feel it. you’re tired and hurting.”

damn his powers of sensing emotions.

“please, let me take care of you. i promise i won’t hurt you again, i swear,” he begins, “i just want to take care of you like we used to. hug you like we used to—kiss you like we used to. it’s only been a week but, god, it has felt like a century. i’d rather die than live like this, without you; please.”

your breath catches in your throat as he looks at you with watery green eyes, his thumb caressing your cheek. “please, i promise, i won’t break your heart again. i’ll spend time with you, i’ll make time for you, i swear,” he goes on, holding your face with his two hands.

“aaron—” you start, but he interrupts. “please, don’t say no to me. i feel like i’m dying, darling. like this world means nothing to me without you—”

“aaron,” you interrupt. he looks at you desperately, visibly wishing you’ll say yes. you decide to break your rule. i mean, how can you say no when he’s saying something like this?

you nod at him, making his breathing stop. “yes,” you assure. “i’ll—i’ll give you another chance,” you whisper. he freezes; before bringing you into a tight embrace.

“oh, god, love. i promise i won’t lose you again. i won’t hurt you. neger again,” he whispers, kissing your head frantically. tears start to swell up in your eyes as his kisses travel down to your lips, kissing you.

you wrap your arms around his neck and return the kiss, kissing him with an urgency you didn’t know you had in you.

“i love you,” he says in between kisses.

“i love you too,” you respond.

#aaron warner x fem y/n #aaron warner #aaron warner x you #aaron warner x reader #aaron warner x y/n #angst #angst with a happy ending #x reader #aaron x reader #shatter me #fanfic #books #shatter me series #aaron warner fanfic #belles fanfictions💋#asks!⭐️#inbox💌

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iburnedmyselfalive · 3 months

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i want to be loved the way warner loves juliette, is that too much to ask 4. ִ ࣪𖤐⋆⭒˚.⋆

WHWRE YOU GO I GO WHAT TOU SEE I SEEEEEEEEEEEE this song is so shatter me coded im crying SHUT THE FUKC IP. PUT YOUR HAND IJ MY HAAAAAAAAAND

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zvdvdlvr · 19 days

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Can I have Actor Aaron Warner x Actress/Singer Yn?!?

— Fry?

🎥 - synopsis. After filming a scene, Aaron suddenly gets a frog in his throat. After getting released from set, you and Aaron head to Burger King late at night. Talk of feelings ensue.

🎥 - warnings. Kissing. Sloppily put together plot. Aaron is a germaphobe. Pining. Friends to lovers. No lip kissing. SORRY FOR NOT POSTING SOONER!!! You walked into the room, clutching Aaron’s arm tightly. With owlish eyes, you took in the casino with a starstruck look. Aaron kept walking forward, keeping you close enough to him that you were enveloped with his scent- cologne, fresh mint toothpaste, the expensive gel in his hair, and like clean clothes.

“Eyes on the prize, darling girl,” Aaron murmured quietly, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before pulling pressing his lips to your forhead. You kept your cool, smiling smally at the handsome man in from of you. You nodded. The prize? Racks of gold and information in the basement.

Aaron sat down in the seat next to a fat Italian man and a muscular German. Without wasting a second, he pulled you into his lap and wrapped his non-dominant hand around your waist as he was dealt into the game.

“Nice to finally see you, sir,” a man greeted politely from across the table. “We’ve been discussing business…” he trailed off, eyes flickering to your face. “And have been awaiting your input… Should we expect your word before the next meeting?”

Aaron leaned back, tucking his cards into your soft hands, pulling your back flush against his chest. “No need to withhold details from my wife, Senator. I promise she wont say a word. In fact,” Aaron’s eyes glinted as he stared down the men at the table, “she can’t speak.”

You watched as eyebrows shot up at the use of the word ‘wife’.

“However, should you decide to take advantage of the fact that my darling girl can’t speak… I can happily promise you that I will tear you all apart: piece by piece, tendon by tendon, dollar by dollar. You will be nothing more than another worthless piece of flesh by the time I am done with you. Understood?”

The crowd nodded hastily, faces red and sweaty.

The game of poker was simply a diversion. When it ended, the amateur robbers you hired under a fake name and different face were to be ratted out. After that, the Japanese man you were playing with would be sent up to the police station to go over security measures for the vault in the basement. From there, everyone would be spoken to by numerous officers. The men, including Aaron, would give their stories, saying that they were just a group of buddies catching up over some poker.

You were to act ill and lightheaded, signing to Aaron how horrible you felt with the rush of excitement. Aaron would explain to the officer how you had a heart condition and produce fake papers from his suit pocket. The officer would nod slowly and excuse you to the bathroom where you would ‘collect yourself’.

The interviews would be fast- there were other civilians to interview as well. Aaron would excuse himself to go check on you.

Instead of going to the bathroom you went to the basement. Earlier in the month, you’d stored a security uniform in the third stall of the woman’s first floor bathroom. Aaron’s was in the vent near the ceiling in the men’s room.

Down you went, playing your role perfectly. Aaron was about three minutes and fourty-six seconds behind you. While he was in the elevator, you had disabled the camera covering the basement and looping a clip of two hours previous so it disn’t record you or Aaron.

Aaron exited the elevator, eyes searching for you in a matching black uniform. He saw you examining the red lazer maze and coughed.

You turned.

Aaron kept coughing and started pounding on his chest. You rushed over to him and pounded on his back.

“Breathe, Warner. You ruined the scene man, we’re totally dead now,” you teased.

The blond man finally stopped coughing and stood up. “Yeah. I’d be a horrible spy,” he mused.

You laughed.

The producers and directors behind the cameras all bustled around behind you, chattering and reviewing the scene.

“Well. Y/n, Aaron. Wonderful as always. Until the end, of course,” one of your produces said, shooting Aaron a smile. “You already know we’re ahead of schedule, so you guys both have the night. Get that frog out of your throat and be ready tomorrow!”

Your assistants ushered you both to the makeup room and got busy removing your makeup.

“Are you hungry, y/n?” Aaron asked, eyeing you.

You groaned. “I’m starving. Do you wanna go get something to eat?”

Aaron chuckled, replying with “I’ll pay.”

You squealed excitedly. “Even better!”

— 🎞️

A little over an hour later Aaron watched you run toward a Burger Kind with open arms in the rain. A small smile painted his lips as he entered and saw you ordering already.

The young cashier looked at you with a tilted head, his eyes narrowed like he recognized you. Aaron came up beside you and waited for you to finish before getting his food. He shoced his credit card into the other man’s hands and felt a small rush of adrenaline shoot through his veins when you wrapped your arms around his stomach and squeezed quickly before taking your drink cup and going to fill it up.

Aaron took his card back and barely made it back to your table before brandishing a bag of antibacterial wipes and bathing his credit card in it. You snickered at his actions.

“Why did you come here if you were gonna get all germaphobic?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink.

“You wanted to come here,” Aaron asked, a finality in his tone.

“But we didn’t have to if you-“

“Y/n have you seriously not noticed that I buy everything you touch when we go shopping? How I follow you and only you around on set and on vacation when you’re around? Have you not noticed how I only smile at you?” Aaron asked, genuinely confused how you didn’t notice.

Your face turned pale and you shrugged. “I didn’t want to convince myself you liked me and then break my own heart whem you find someone you truly do like.”

Aaron scoffed. “There is someone I truly like- love, even.”

You nodded, eyes avoiding Aaron’s.

“And I’m looking at her,” Aaron finished, voice soft.

Aaron’s last name was shouted out before you could open your mouth.

When the blond came back, he set the plastic tray of food down. “Eat. We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to, but you are the only one for me, y/n.”

You nod, picking up a fry and biting a big chunk off. “I’ll need time. You’re- I feel the same, Aaron. I just…” you trail off, happy to see that Aaron Warner is Smiling at you. You really were a fool not to see it before.

“Share a fry with me?” You ask, holding out the steaming salt-covered hunk of potato. Aaron picks it out of your fingers with his teeth and stays quiet, happy to be with you.

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just2bubbly · 11 months

Text

Worrisome Mornings

Masterlist

Well, it seems I did manage to convince myself to write warnette fic: cuz why not? This one isn't necessarily about the two but it indulged me and wish it works for the same for you. Inspiration for this comes out of this post.

Book: Shatter Me

Words: 1k

Pairing: None

With Warner unable to be contacted in the morning of chapter 56, Delalileu worries himself with reasons. None that matches when he learns the actual cause.

Delalieu's POV:

Delalieu almost did have an aneurysm.

He was promptly waiting for the Commander to show up at his usual time to discuss the doings of the day. With Commander Warner harbouring enemies of the state in his personal quarters, the stability and agenda that had been maintained since his appointment had been disrupted. Delalieu himself had overseen a part of this mission that could cost him his life at the least.

He wasn't sure why he had always been so willing to sacrifice his life and work for members of Anderson family. Many a time he had been on the wrong side of power, a young man lost in the sense of manifestation. Perhaps he still was on the wrong side of power while he had seen much, he had lost more.

This way of devotion towards Commander Warner, his grandchild was his way of asking forgiveness to his daughter, Leila. Forgiveness, he would never deserve. He had seen the crimes committed by his own against his own and he had silently let them happen, overseen them at times without questioning the morality and insanity of it.

Delalieu was a man lacking in courage when it came down to crossing the lines of duty and relation, in situations when it was a need to put his blood first he had failed to do so.

It had taken multiple years to gain Warner's trust. An odd sort of bond that goes nowhere- there's respect between the two, born completely out of sincerity and years of seeing each other. What relation he had with Commander Warner could be carried with any other Lieutenant had Paris decided to appoint another.

"Family should be close," Paris had said, smiling wickedly to him the day he had been appointed.

Here at Sector 45, he worked both for the Commander and the Supreme, not letting his interactions with either mix. Delalieu was that tie between the two that secured that they were far more isolated than nearer.

Pulling himself away from his thought he glanced at the huge wall clock.

7:14.

The Commander was late by 14 minutes. If experience and memory served him right, Commander Warner was never late- not on a sick day, not when he was shot in his arms, not when Miss Ferrars was dying. Aaron Warner was a punctual man that valued his time more than people. Seeing how he had been running late for over 16 minutes now seemed to surprise him beyond his wits.

He diligently decided to wait before jumping to conclusions about the Commander's whereabouts. Patiently waiting for further 10 minutes before he decided to give in to his unease.

Delalieu called for his office, assuming that the Commander had decided to spend his morning drawing plans for the aftermath of this rebellion. No one answered the phone, as his request was met with an automated attendant. He pinches his head in worry trying to find a single reason why Warner couldn't be contacted.

Trying to calm his nervous tick, he searched for the boy on the base surveillance. Nothing. He needed to check whether Warner was out to his house in the sector like he preferred disappearing to. Alone. To keep an eye on correspondence and locals. When his search came back with no signs, he rang the operators instead.

"Where was the Chief Commander last seen ?" He asked masking his worries with an emotionless tone.

"Last night entering his quarters."

"Time?"

"2050."

"Any activity outside his quarter?"

"None noticed, sir."

"Any tanks put off from surveillance? Lost signal with any soldiers?" He asked not wanting to give away any matters for the soldiers to divulge in.

"None, sir. "

He hung up on the phone and sprang out of the door within seconds.

The time read 7:48 am.

Last sighted in his quarters which did not have any cameras as per his request and command. Delalieu knew it was stupid and naive to give in to the demands of a 19-year-old boy and foregoing protocol. With no surveillance inside the ward, Delalieu had no way of knowing what harm Warmer might have undergone.

Warner was housing revolutionaries on the base, a floor away from his quarters. Castle and his band of refugees were too deep in grief to be hosted as allies. One never knew when feelings of revenge came to the surface. Them living a floor below him gave them a perfect opportunity to do away with his cruelty for once. Delalieu berated himself for not trying to talk the boy out of his decision.

Stupid mistakes taken out of desire. Aaron was doing so much to save the girl's life only for her and her refugee of friends to take advantage of his kindness. Delalieu reminded himself that Aaron was more than capable to take care of himself but when it came down to the girl, Juliette Ferrars he failed to meet his own assessment. Love bedazzled him, like always the girl made him forget everything else. Made him do things he won't do for anyone. Ella always blinded him.

He had walked on gun ready, his card swiped in to let him enter. His mind was numb with scenarios he might come across and his body operating purely on adrenaline and years of practice.

He stepped inside the room. Only to see a sight be hadn't quite expected- clothes were strewn around everywhere. It took him about ten seconds to register the scene and now his mind was buzzing with the need to be out of the room, eyes wide in horror and cheeks flushed with humiliation. He quickly stepped back into the elevator, pressing the button to move down to his floor. As the elevator doors closed on him he had unintentionally glimpsed enough to confirm his suspicions. The two sprawled on the bed. Huddled over each other.

Back in the safety of his own office, he sighed. Not so much out of relief. There was so much past to uncover for the two.

A/N: Hope it wasn't much disappointing. I just wanted to write someting new and my old wips have haunted me for months and I wrote this down in a day instead. Taking asks for warnette now if you all can be so kind as to send them.

No taglish cuz don't know mutuals that are into this book. Do mention if you want to be tagged in future works.

#just2bubbly fics #just2bubbly writes #tahereh mafi #warnette #delalieu #chapter 56 #shatter me #ignite me #unravel me #imagine me #juliette ferrars #aaron warner #paris anderson #leila warner #shatter me series #chapter 55 #ignite me fanfiction #fanfiction

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jahayla-parker · 2 years

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Aaron Warner (Anderson) Navigation

NAVIGATION TOOLS:

FLUFF: ~

ANGST: *

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TikTok Prank Preference: Stuck Tampon ~

Description: blurb preference with the characters/people below based on the viral TikTok prank where the person pretend they have a tampon stuck and need their partner to help them to see how they react.

Warnings: mentions of period related items and topics, minimally suggestive words, otherwise fluff

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Shatter Me Series Navigation/Masterlist

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wjforever · 6 months

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She spoke boldly, looking into my eyes most of the time. She deserved a little revelation from me, too. Because, to be fair, I get into her life more and more, coloring my idea of her with bright colors. She still doesn't know much about me. I'm not ready to open up to her, but still I want to give her at least something, otherwise she will never be able to trust me. And I want her to.

Full chapter

or here

#aaron warner #juliette ferrars #shatter me #shatter me series #warnette #ella sommers #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #shatter me again #destroy me #destroy me again

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babyiamperfectforyou · 1 year

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Not my grandma calling me after finding a few novels on my cousins desk and asking me if those novels are safe for reading. She asked me if Love on the Brain, Twisted games and Shatter me are okay to be read and I said it was okay and that I had read them💀💀💀 now I need to call my cousin and tell her to hide her Romance novels lol. Gran told me to talk her down if she's reading anything sus. Only if she knew I literally write and post smut and that I was the one who brought her down this rabbit hole🤣🤣🤣🤣

#fanfiction #fanfics #ranting #rants #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #ali hazelwood #love on the brain #shatter me #twisted series #twisted games #bookstagram #harry edward styles

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whokilledbelle · 1 month

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𑁍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

emojis: 💋 fluff. ♦️ angst. 🩸 spicy. (NOT SMUT.)

shatter me.

none yet.

the inheritance games.

candid pictures.💋

this woven kingdom.

none yet.

the folk of the air.

none yet.

#shatter me #shatter me series #the inheritance games #the inheritance trilogy #the folk of the air #the cruel prince series #this woven kingdom #twk #twk series #belles fanfictions #fanfic #fanfiction #masterlist

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saintescuderia · 2 months

Text

pancakes (pt. 3)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :)

A/N: don't come for me. i love daniel. it's all for plot. (also, if the timeline seems odd it’s bc creative liberties have been taken 😌)

P3 - stairmaster endurance

As you walked down the steps to the Drivers Gala in your stunning red dress, you were unaware how one Ferrari driver couldn’t take his eyes off you. Looking at you smiling elegantly to one of the reps who greeted you, Charles realised just how much of a mistake he had made. Carlos was at his side, saying something that was back ground noise. All Charles could focus on was you. Your flowing hair, your eyes glinting in the light as you smiled your beautiful smile at whoever was talking to you. You always spoke with such passion. Charles always loved that about you. He would always love every little thing about you—

The alarm went off.

You blinked and stopped the timer notification that essentially shook you out of the deep rabbit hole of F1 fanfiction you had found yourself falling into. Closing the purple app, you wondered why you still remained on Tumblr even after the 2013 hype of it died and everyone shifted to Twitter. Let alone the fact that your Tumblr had become your closeted way to fangirl about the sport you had dedicated your life to.

Then again, what were you to expect? The algorithm clearly picked up on your interests. That or the government was listening in and knew that Formula 1 was your day-to-day. That would explain how, one day, you were simply scrolling through the random, niche memes and BAM! You were met with the completely random gif-set of Arthur Leclerc and Oscar Piastri sat in an interview for Prema.

It had caught you off guard, seeing that come up on your phone screen. It had also been a while since you had seen Arthur. For the whole duration of that single and endless moment, you didn't know how to react.

So your thumb double tapped the screen.

And maybe it was your fault for liking it, for encouraging the algorithm. But you could’t help but smile at the gif of Arthur confident and proud of his 18 hour screen time. That boy had no filter and never gave a fuck about the social norm. That and he often just didn’t read the room. Even after all these years, and his climb up the motorsport ladders, that youthful element about him had remained. It made you smile. You always liked that about him.

However, with that gif-set came more stuff. Innocent stuff. More F2 bits - you really missed those boys - and then everything else. Funny bits of Max at Red Bull. Carlos and Lando. All the Guenther Steiner moments. It was a little weird to be liking gifs of a team principal, you were well aware, but if anything it just made you feel proud of how far the German-Italian had come.

Back in the old Red Bull days, Guenther would always tell you about his dreams of directing his own team. It was nice to see him finally achieve that. It was also an endless source of amusement for you.

For example: the day Kevin had shattered the door.

When it happened, though, it was definitely not a laughing matter. You had been just finishing up the lunch service at the Haas motorhome - making sure to pack up some food for the drivers and mechanics who still were in a meeting - when you had heard the loud noise. Mack, the sous-chef, had stopped and looked at you with wide eyes.

You had both exited the kitchen to walk out to the main space of the motorhome and see other Haas employees equally as confused and whispering. Not getting a clear answer, you patted Mack on the shoulder and returned to the kitchen to finish plating up Kevin and Romain’s lunch for later.

Fifteen minutes later, however, and you had gotten your answer when Guenther stormed into the kitchen fuming. “He does not slam my fucking office door! What am I going to do? Call Gene and tell him his drivers are some fucking idiot babies?!”

You had simply stared at him, blinkingly.

Guenther had then spied a plate of food sitting on the bench. “That fucking driver doesn’t deserve any of your fucking food!” And he picked the plate and dumped plate with its contents in the bin.

“Guenther," you had began in a calm voice, "that was my lunch. Kevin’s plate is in the fridge.”

“Well eat his fucking food! Or—" Guenther reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit card and slammed it onto the table in front of you. “Go to a fucking five star hotel and have lunch there on that fucking idiot baby's pay.”

And the two of you had actually done so.

Even after he calmed down, Guenther had been adamant to take you to lunch which, admittedly, wasn't the most odd thing ever. Guenther was removed enough from all the driver drama and you had known him a for long time. You were the reason he had helped in the debut in 2016 anyway.

Still, no matter how Guenther Guenther was, Kevin was still a driver. You knew how it might look.

Said driver, however, had thankfully just dismissed it when you offered to pay him back. "Make me those mini pizzas next time you're with us and we're good."

And so when you clocked on this morning to see you were covering Haas, you immediately smiled and went to make good on your promise to K-Mag.

You always loved working in the Haas motorhome. If only half the stuff you saw Guenther did and said ended up in gif-sets on Tumblr.

Pushing yourself off the stool, you pocketed your phone and grabbed the oven mitts to pull out the mini pizzas. You had made extra for the engineers since there was an issue with Nico’s PU and knew they would be up late working on the engine. It wasn’t a secret that your pizzas were a coveted snack, being low-carb and high protein enough for even the drivers to consume. You were half expecting Fred Vasseur to pop in and steal some. He did love these pizzas. Any time you were stationed at Alfa Romeo, it was a guarantee you would be making them at his request.

Though, now Fred was moving to Ferrari. So you weren't sure if he was still going to be nice to you. Mattia Binotto had always treated you like the fucking plague.

"Ah, Y/N. For fuck's sake!" You heard the German accent and felt your mouth curve up into a smile as Guenther arrived on scene. He was dressed in the Haas gear for 2023, lanyard around his neck. "You still here running the coffee when you can beat any of these idiots in the car."

You gave him a fake two finger salute. "If I drove, no one would stand a chance."

"Well maybe you could help us score some fucking points." Guenther said. Immediately, he got down to business. "Harry Kane did well last night. Scored two fucking goals."

You snorted. One of the many reasons you and Guenther bonded so well was that you one of the few people amongst this Paddock that took football seriously. Almost as seriously as Formula 1. Almost.

"Didn't see it." You said, shaking your head. Bundesliga was lower on your list of priorities when it came to games. You only paid attention to the German league when it came to teams making it into Champions League. Besides, Guenther should’ve known what game you were watching last night. Still, you reminded him. "The Reds were playing."

He rolled his eyes, though unsurprised. "Of course you're going to watch English fucking football."

"Hey, only because of Salah.” You reminded him and hit your chest proudly, “I gotta represent."

"That much is fucking obvious." Guenther said. One of the many reasons you liked working in Haas so much was that it was by far the most relaxed garage out of them all. For example, you hadn't yet taken off the hoodie you wore which had, on top, the number 10 Liverpool jersey. It looked unprofessional, having a t-shirt over a jumper like that, especially mixed with the headscarf you had tied on your head like a durag, but Guenther couldn’t care less. If anything, he was probably just offended at your choice of EPL team.

“United is fucking Red.”

"Ah, Guenther. You know my heart really lies." You reminded him.

Your uncle, a Spanish man, had brought you up following the iconic Real Madrid. He literally visited the hospital with a teddy bear and Bernabeu membership, adamant he would get his newborn niece into the sport. No matter what.

From the moment he found out your number one team, Guenther was salty. “Los Blancos.” He scoffed. “The fucking villains of football." He came round to see the circular pieces of bread covered with sauce and an array of different toppings. Guenther picked one up - and immediately dropped it. "Fuck!"

"It's hot." You said, dryly. You took out another tray and set it down. You closed the oven door and turned it off. You flipped the towel over your shoulder as you watched Guenther now at the sink, running water over his burnt fingers.

"You don't fucking say." Guenther blowing on his fingers.

“Stop being a baby.” You laughed, bringing up your hands to your head to fix your headscarf.

Guenther ignored that comment. "Fred fucking loves these things. Don't tell him you made them. I don't want him in here stealing them."

You said nothing and turned around to pretend to busy yourself with the trays of mini pizzas. It was best to just remain quiet sometimes. Bahrain testing had kept everyone occupied and at that start of the season F1 Hospitality were usually running around after Stefano Domenicali and the FIA Co. for last minute set up. It was only into the race calendar that Hospitality were eventually went around to the teams.

So, no. You hadn't seen Fred. You hadn't seen anyone. You were just grateful that your first race of 2023 was in the safety of Haas. Nico and Kevin were older and, therefore, a little more out of it when it came to driver drama. If they knew anything, they were old enough to be mature about it.

Though, that couldn't be the same of others from their generation. You were already losing sleep from the feelings that arose from seeing Daniel in Red Bull gear. It didn't help that the last time you two had spoken, things hadn't exactly been civil.

You were on the stair-master. The clock on the machine read 37:48. The sweat was dripping off you.

Your grey jumper had darkened in shades, wet from the sweat. You kept your hands on your head as you stepped and stepped and stepped and stepped. Angsty rap music blasted into your ears. Tinnitus was likely to worsen, but you would take that over the shit storm that was currently breaking all over the Paddock.

I understand that, without my agreement, Alpine F1 have put out a press statement late this afternoon that I am driving for them next year. This is wrong and I have not signed a contract for Alpine for 2023. I will not be driving for Alpine next year.

Oscar hadn’t even yet joined Formula 1 and he was already stirring trouble. That was a problem. For you. You were supposed to lay low. The whole point of this was to lay low and not drawing any attention to yourself. The agreement was that you could still be there if only in the role of Hospitality.

And the idiot had tweeted that and then, ten minutes later, decided to follow you.

How he even found your Twitter was surprising? It wasn’t very personal - your profile picture was solid black - so no fans would be able to recognise you. But the Paddock? The FIA and your bosses? They were raising confused eyebrows that Oscar Piastri would drop that bomb and then follow you.

You could already imagine what Otmar was going to say. God, the 2023 season hadn’t fully started and you were already dreading walking into the Alpine home. And then Jos Verstappen was rumoured to be attending more races this year and who could forget about Daniel coming back to Red Bull? The universe apparently needed to give you some character development, it seemed.

Your legs ached, begging to stop. Your mind thought about pressing the red emergency button, to just end it. But you knew better. You knew this was all a mind game. Pain is an allusion. Keep going. Shit hurts but you push through. Keep going. Keep going. Keep fucking going. It's what you always told yourself. It's how you got yourself through everything. It's how you'll get through all of this. If you can push through the pain of the stairmaster, then you can push through the pain of anything. You had learned that pain was temporary and it was just a mind-game. You could always go longer than you thought possible. You just had to keep reminding yourself of that fact. So, right now, it was just practice. Each step you took right now was practicing the endurance of pain from this stairmaster fucking filling your legs. If you could get through this, you would be able to handle any drama in the future.

Unfortunately, drama walked through the door before you could make it through the current pain of said stairmaster.

Daniel Ricciardo stormed into the Driver’s Only Gym, knowing all too well that this was where you would be. He had been the one to tell you about this fucking place in the first place. Before everything, you had always loved working out and exercise was part of the reason you two ended up as you did. Now, you didn’t have the luxury you did before. You didn’t have the lanyard.

So, now, you had to workout in the shadows.

That didn't mean Daniel didn't see you. Didn't hear you. Didn't know what you were doing every single day of every weekend the both of you avoided each other at the Paddock. He knew you still wore your sneakers according to the race location. He knew you still wore headscarves when in the Middle East and covered your tattoos when in Japan. He knew you still avoided Charles just he like he knew you still avoided him. He knew you.

So Daniel knew you woke up at 4am every day to work out. And after Zak Brown told him the news, he spent the night dealing with his spiralling career through a bottle of Jack Daniels. Then he had the idea to come out from the four walls of his hotel room and see you.

Because Daniel knew you had made your pancakes for the rookie, that fucking Oscar Piastri. And Daniel was one of the few people who knew, who fully understood just what that meant to you.

Drunk and emotional, Daniel planted himself right in front of the stair master. He stared at you, caught like a deer in headlights and got right to it.

“You must be fucking happy.”

It was the first time he had directly spoken to you in five years.

So it took you a second to process what was happening.

Daniel Ricciardo was right here, in front of you, at 4:50 in the morning as you sweated your body weight out through the repeated steps you took on the machine.

Suddenly you were aware that you had rolled yourself out of bed with a little less motivation than the norm. You had been extra tired, hitting snooze more than twice. You hadn’t washed your face and you wondered if Daniel would be able to spot the stain of egg yolk on your hoodie. It had been some time since he had been this close to you and you were in bike shorts and currently on a bulk. Suddenly, you wished you were on a cut. Why did the one time he came this close to you had to be so big and puffy?

"Excuse me?" You found yourself saying, shifting one headphone off your ear. “Can I help you?”

"Did you know?" Daniel asked. He didn't give you a chance to respond. "Of course you fucking did."

Without even thinking, you pulled the red plug your mind had obsessed over and jumped down. The pain was already here so there was no point going through any more than necessary. You looked up at Daniel, panting. He, too, was exhaling a little heavier than normal. Too angry and, judging by the smell of his breath, drunk to be stable.

There was no point lying to him. Aside from the fact that Daniel was emotionally charged (and drunk - and he got super passionate when he was drunk) you knew he would immediately pick up on it. You don't spend three years with someone and not know them like the back of your hand. And, unlike him, you can safely say that you hadn't really changed since 2018. If you lied, he would know.

"I signed a NDA, Daniel." You said simply, walking to your gym bag sat on the red bench. You picked up your bottle to take a sip, your throat dry. You tried to keep yourself calm and not shaky. Do my legs look too big? God, Please don’t let me smell like BO. Your thoughts were still running rampant. Despite the extensive cardio, your body was buzzing from the anxiety of having Daniel so close.

Daniel. To think you had once been so deeply in love with the man stood before you.

"Fuck off." He spat. You recoiled. "No one gives a shit about that."

"I do." You said, trying to keep your voice from growing small. "Sorry I care about my job."

Daniel let out a sardonic laugh. You braced yourself, knowing what was to come. You had experienced this many times before during your fights. "What? Making coffee and fucking washing the dishes? Yeah, great job you got there, babe."

"Don't call me babe." You spat back. "And can you not be a dick for two fucking seconds, Daniel."

You said it. His name. When was the last time you had said it? It made you both take a second to process what was happening, to acknowledge how long it had been since the two of you had actually spoken to one another, how long since you had addressed the other as a human being that actually existed.

In that moment, Daniel finally seemed to lose a bit of anger and, instead, show a glimmer of vulnerability. "I lost my seat. I don't know what I'm going to do."

You looked down at your shoes at show of helplessness. New Balance 350s. Red and yellow. They had been on sale. You liked them for stable LISS circuits but hated the colour way. Now, they were the most interesting thing to look at.

Everyone knew that Daniel Ricciardo was always all smiles and that, no matter what, he was optimistic. Happy. He never showed any weakness.

Except, you had seen him when the smiles fell away and the laughter died. In the safety of your private hotel rooms and Daniel could just be, you saw him vulnerable, you saw him hurt, you saw him stress, worry, cry, swear and be open to how he was really feeling. Like right now.

“Daniel I—“

"You didn’t even think to fucking tell me."

You looked up at the change of tone and how he was frowning-- no, sneering at you. This made you change and any remorse, any pity, you felt for the man in front of you immediately vanished. You weren’t in a hotel room. You were in the gym. And it had been five fucking years.

"Are you fucking blaming me right now?"You snapped back. "What the fuck do I owe you, exactly?"

"I’m the reason you’re here!"

By now, your heart was racing. And not from the exercise. This, this was it. You finally had your moment to say it.

"Yes, exactly, Daniel. You’re the reason that I am, as you said, making coffee and fucking washing the dishes! If it weren’t for you, we both know where I would be right now. But you got fucking scared of Max and blamed me for it!"

This hit a nerve. "I was not scared of Max! I outperformed Max!"

"Yes, on the weeks I fucking trained you!"

"Fuck me,” Daniel was shooting straight daggers at you despite the wry grin on his face, “do you really think that was all you?"

You put your hands on your hips and squared up to meet his eyes, narrowing your own. "Considering how your teammate took me on as a trainer and then became the number 1 driver, yes, I will take some fucking credit for that." Daniel's face dropped when you said it. And you knew it was a low blow, but you couldn't help the words before they tumbled out from your mouth. "The world’s fucking moved on from Monaco 2018. Maybe you should too."

"Fuck you!" He shouted.

"Fuck you!" You shouted back. You grabbed your phone and found yourself tapping onto a recent chat and speedily composing a text. You hated how your fingers shook. You also hated how you were texting for help.

"Well, clearly you haven’t moved on from Monaco if you’re bringing it up." Daniel said, no longer shouting, but his tone still as icily. "You’re going to be mad about that until the end of time?"

You closed your eyes and willed your eyes not to think of the image of him with her, the pain you felt walking in and seeing that. Instead, you opened your eyes and stared him dead in the eye and spoke as calmly as possible.

"Jos Verstappen will be coming to the races more often this year. That means I won't be able to work in the Red Bull garage. If I'm at AlphaTauri, do not fucking come."

Daniel ignored this, undeterred. Instead, he kept grinning down at you thinking he found something. "You seriously aren't over it, are you?"

"No, the memory of you putting your dick into another woman still keeps me up at night." You rolled your eyes despite how it still did admittedly hurt. You pretended it didn’t and hoped he believed it. "Please stop thinking so highly of yourself. Remind yourself of why you're here, right now, talking to me."

Daniel's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to say something but the sound of the doors opening had him closing it. You grabbed your gym bag and finally made a move to turn around and escape the gym.

Ignoring the looks of one very confused Carlos Sainz as you breezed past him.

"I have to go deal with idiots who can’t tell me what’s wrong with the engine." Guenther said. You had brought forth two plates and slide two pizzas onto each.

"Here. For you and Nico." You said, knowing Nico would join the meeting about his car. "I'll bring a tray in a little bit for the rest of the engineers."

"Make me and Nico some coffee, please." Guenther said, taking the plates. "And pour in some fucking whiskey." You laughed and watched him disappear down the hallway of the offices set up. Haas' lack of financial support meant their motorhome was mediocre at best. Still, you loved being here more than anywhere else. It was the safest, really.

Wiping your hands on the towel, you went outside to where the coffee cart was situated. Another example of Haas' lack of funding was needing a Formula One coffee cart and not having an in house machine like everyone else did. You went about preparing the coffees like how you knew Nico and Guenther liked - as well as making yourself one while you were at it.

"No Real Madrid today?"

You found yourself jumping at the familiar Spanish lilt of the other Ferrari driver. Carlos Sainz was someone you never really paid any close attention to. He wasn't close enough to either Daniel or Charles' circles to ever have been on your radar. He had left Red Bull before you did and since he was Ferrari associated, it meant you never really had much to do with him.

Still, he was pleasant and nice. He always had been. He was one of those drivers that if word had spread to him - and it was very likely that it had - he didn't show it. Or care enough about it. Any time Carlos saw you around the Paddock, it was with a warm smile and a quick small-talk question about your thoughts on Real Madrid's latest match. But that was really ever it.

Until that time he had walked in at 5am to see you and Daniel Ricciardo screaming at each other.

"Uh, no. Liverpool was playing yesterday." You said, wondering if he knew you also cared about the Scouse team. Admittedly, you didn’t have the same love for them as you did for the Spanish legends, but you couldn’t have Egyptian heritage and not care about Mo Salah.

"You're Egyptian, no?" He asked. You focused on frothing the milk, unable to really look him in the eyes so soon after this morning.

"Yes." It was there in the mix, yes, but you really weren't up for explaining the complicated heritage of your ethnicity this morning. Looking at the milk circling in the silver jug, you realised your face was heating up. You were slightly surprised he even knew you were Egyptian in the first place. Unlike with Guenther or the splattering of other football fans in the Paddock, you and Carlos only ever had brief snapshots of Real Madrid small talk.

Still, this wasn't an odd conversation, you had to remind yourself. You were talking about the one thing you and him ever talked about. But, again, this was after Carlos had walked in to see you, a Hospitality worker, arguing with a driver.

"Please don't tell anyone about me being in the gym." You finally said, turning off the frother to gently tap the metal jar against the bench and settle the bubbles in the milk. "I could get into a lot of trouble since it's only for drivers."

Carlos waved a dismissive hand and shook his head. When it was clear he wasn't going to, you breathed a small sigh of relief. But then he leaned against the cart and you felt yourself starting to get anxious again. There was a quiet moment for a second as your poured the latte for Nico. Carlos' eyes followed your hands.

"I will say something if Ricciardo upset you." He said in a quieter voice.

You immediately shook your head and finally looked him in the eye. "Please don't. There's enough complication with... everything." You finished lamely.

"So I've heard." Carlos said.

You looked away. He knew.

"So then you'll know I don't need anymore complications." You said through gritted teeth, hating very much the confirmation that word had spread about what had happened.

"You haven't done anything wrong, though."

This caught you by surprise. It was the first time anyone - or, at least, a driver - had said those words to you. At the start, everyone had immediately pointed fingers at you. You were shunned and blamed. Some saw your position with the Formula One Group as part of Hospitality too light a punishment for what had happened. For the longest time, it was the confusion as to why everyone had reacted that way that did that hurt you. You hadn’t thought you had done anything wrong. Not really. You struggled to understand why no one else saw it that way. Least of all any of the drivers that knew what had happened.

Hearing Carlos say that really threw you for a short second. Carlos even caught it. He said your name and you finally looked up at him when you heard him say your name.

"Sorry it’s just - uh, Carlos, man.” You laughed a dry laugh. “You're probably the only driver who thinks so."

"I'm not." Carlos crossed his arms. "I might be the only one who has said so, but if I've understood correctly... then I'm not."

You looked down at metal jug in your hand with the extra milk you had frothed for yourself. Suddenly, you didn't feel like any caffeine. Your anxiety was already through the roof.

"Do you want a coffee?" You asked, sounding, again, very lame as that was your response to Carlos' comment.

The Spaniard looked back down at the spoon and jug in your hands. He nodded. "Have you had one already?" You asked. He shook his head and so you went about pulling down another paper cup to make his piccolo.

"You remembered." He said, laughing slightly.

"First coffee is a piccolo. Second and third are black." You recalled his order. Carlos smiled at you as you poured the milk. "I know everyone's coffee orders."

You didn’t catch how his smile lessened slightly at that.

You looked back at him and tried to ignore the thought of whether his kindness was exaggerated for your sake. A pity thing or something. Carlos accepted the coffee and then he actually offered a thank you in Arabic. You found your lips turning up hearing the marhaba on his Spanish tongue. “Es un placer.” You came back with his own native language.

You don’t work in Formula 1 without picking up a few things here and there.

Hence how you could recognise the German swears that sounded from within the motorhome as Guenther suddenly appeared.

“Where is that Y/N? Liverpool fucking tops the league and thinks she can take her time with— ah, you Ferrari fuckers!” Both you and Carlos looked to where he had come up behind the driver and slapped a friendly pat on his back. “Tell Fred he can’t have any pizza.”

“Pizza?” Carlos asked and looked down at you. “You made your pizza?”

You didn’t get a chance to respond before some Haas engineers appeared behind Guenther and called for you and him. Carlos took this as his sign - he was technically on Haas territory - and nodded at you and Guenther, holding up his piccolo in salute. Guenther had already taken the coffees you’d made for him and Nico and disappeared behind the sliding doors. You made a move to follow when Carlos called out.

"I want to try some famous Y/N pizza!” He said, turning on his heel as he walked backwards and called out to you.

You smiled and shook your head, walking back into the Haas home. You went back to the oven and set about plating up the pizzas to be a little more presentable to them. You also made sure to put some aside especially for Kevin. This was supposed to be for him.

You thought idly of saving some for Carlos when some Haas engineers you vaguely recognised walked past.

"Oh nice!" One engineer said, coming up and immediately reaching for one to stick it in his mouth. You watched him do the same blunder that Guenther did.

The other engineer, a woman with a thick Irish accent? was staring at you. Smug. "Damn, who got you smiling like that, missy?"

"What?" You asked, eyes going wide. You hadn't realised the wide smile on your face that was likely the direct result of one Carlo Sainz. Your face became hot again and it took every ounce of will to not seem affected by her words. “No one.”

"Mmm. If you say so.” She said in a sing song voice. “Well and me Mr Cool over here,” she gestured to the the other engineer trying to breathe through the hot pizza, “are heading to the garage now to see Kevin. Can we take them?"

"Yeah." You nodded. "Go ahead."

"Not saving some for anyone?"

"No." You shook your head firmly. "Take them all."

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3 @hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej

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jtargaryen18 · 8 months

Text

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 32

Part 32: The Rising

Series Masterlist

Words: 8k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia, reference to violence and violent acts, references to sexual violence. Strong language. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

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

The first thing Steve was aware of was the softness of her touch. The delicate stroke of her fingertips dancing nervously over his forearm, his hand. Slowly, the scent of her perfume invaded his senses that were just beginning to return. It was a comfort in the sea of perfect darkness all around him.

Knowing his wife was alive, at his side, was everything to him.

Her teardrop on his skin made his heart squeeze in his chest. The low sound of her crying in the quiet of the room. He tried in vain to open his eyes, to move his hand. To speak. None of his commands were answered so he could comfort her.

But he was here now. That was something, right? That he was awake? Aware?

Steve needed to get back to her and his life in the worst way.

“Steve,” you whispered, leaning closer to him. “I’m so tired… “

Steve knew she probably couldn’t sleep under the circumstances. He had no idea how long he’d been out of the loop. Now he was coming back to life, restless. All he really wanted to do was hold her, watch over her while she slept.

And while he held her safe and sound, he’d begin planning his takedown of fucking Barnes.

The press of her lips against his pulled him out of his thoughts. Another hot tear dotted his cheek. Her sadness had him trying in vain to move, to let her know he was there. He was with her.

She was so strong, his beautiful wife. She’d been wounded and without him, she was alone. Afraid. Did Barnes or the other families know what happened? Were they all in any danger from Barnes? Or Hansen?

She carefully climbed onto the bed to lie next to him. It made him happy to have her so close, warm at his side. All he could do was to be there with her.

“Steve, you have to come back to me,” she said with tears in her voice, a fear he’d never heard from her bleeding onto her tone. “So far, most of them haven’t figured it out… That you’re out of commission.”

No one knew? Had Dyson told her that?

Her fingers danced over his chest, his heart. She was careful to keep her weight off him, but he wanted it. He wanted the warm press of her body against his. It felt so good to have her there, so close.

And she wanted him back. She loved him. She told him she loved him before she left for Hansen’s that fateful day.

“He figured it out,” she said, sniffling. “He knew it wasn’t you who did…”

Who figured it out? Figured what out?

Steve’s sluggish heart sped up at that, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“We haven’t heard anything yet,” she whispered. “I don’t think he’s dead. If he were, I feel like we would have heard something by now.”

Who was dead? Dread pushed him to fight harder to get back to the surface.

A soft sob from her had fear battling heartache in his chest. Why did she sound so broken? What had happened? How long had he been out?

“I couldn’t even do it when the time came,” she whispered. “I’m so ashamed, Steve. I was right there, sitting next to him on the bench. He had no idea who I really was. He had no idea why he was really there.”

Who? Steve would have screamed it if he could have. What couldn’t she do? His fears escalated as he waited for her to continue.

“I really hope we killed him, Steve,” she said quietly. “I don’t think we did though. Yelena said the poison would do damage, could shut down his vital organs… But we would have fucking heard something by now, right? If Barnes really died?”

Steve was trapped in his body, in the darkness, with growing fear. She’d confronted Barnes? Tried to kill him with poison? Poison Belova gave her?

Belova was supposed to be cast out of his household.

Anger pushed against fear then. He’d thrown Belova out because she got in his wife’s head, encouraged her rebellious behavior. She was supposed to protect his wife, not lead her into danger.

“You’ve got to wake up,” she begged him. “Please... We struck back at Barnes. To protect this family. To protect your position… But if he wakes up… He suspects all the things we’ve done were me, not you. He called me an evil bitch…” Her laugh was bitter, choked out by tears. “If he’s still alive, he knows the truth. It’s only a matter of time, Steve, until he comes after us. After me. Please, for the love of God, you’ve got to wake up.”

What did they do? As much of a force as his wife was, particularly with Belova backing her, he couldn’t imagine that whatever danger they’d gotten was done without Dyson knowing about it.

As he understood it, they’d done something to Bucky. Poisoned him. They didn’t know the other man’s status. Was he dead? Alive? If he was still alive, it sounded like he’d be coming for them.

Coming for his wife.

“I knew I’d find you here.” Belova. The sound of a door closing.

His wife didn’t move. If nothing, she snuggled closer to him.

“Have you heard anything?” his wife asked.

“No, there’s no word,” Belova said. “And no news is good news.”

“I can’t take this anymore,” his wife said, her voice breaking. “Steve’s still out and every minute of every day I have to worry… We’re so vulnerable right now.”

“So is Barnes,” Belova told her.

“The other families have to be wondering what the hell is going on,” his wife said.

“There are questions,” Belova said. “There are rumors and stories. Very little of it is anywhere close to the truth.”

“Something’s got to give,” his wife said. “Barnes is either out of it like Steve or he’s biding his time. Waiting for the right moment to finish this.”

“You can’t dwell on this,” Belova’s voice was closer now. “Steve will come back to you.”

“Yes.” She sounded so small, unsure.

“And when he’s back, he’ll take it from there.”

“What do you mean?” his wife asked.

“We hit Barnes on a very personal level,” Belova explained. “That’s the way it’s done. Barnes may be just fine right now and carefully planning his next move. And he needs to think long and hard on whatever action he takes. The Starks are partial to the Rogers family. So are the Wilsons.”

“How many times is Dyson going to be able to hold them off when they call,” his wife wanted to know. “We don’t have much time left. If Steve would just wake up… He’s going to kill me.”

Steve wasn’t going to let it go. That was for damn sure.

Belova laughed softly as his wife fought back tears. “He may be proud of you. I am.”

Sniffling, his wife said, “If he’ll just wake up, I don’t care. He can keep me locked away for a year, whatever. I just need him to be okay. To come back to me.”

Steve couldn’t have heard that right. He was out of it. His wife could make any decision his men would allow. And for her, his men would allow quite a lot. And she was worried about him.

“He will,” Belova told her. “He loves you… But be ready. He’s going to be pissed when he finds out what’s been going on while he was out. Kicking me out again will probably be the first order he gives.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“No,” his wife said. “I won’t allow it. You are my personal protection. He agreed to that. And I can’t think of a time when I’ve needed protection more, right?”

A sigh. “Your husband may not see it that way.”

“I don’t care,” she said petulantly. “He can wake up and bitch at me about it. I’d love that. But you’re not going anywhere, Yelena. I need you.”

Steve again tried in vain to open his eyes, to speak. To move anything. Surely it was only a matter of time before he could, right? Now that he was aware, it wouldn’t be long. He had no idea how long he’d been like this, but it was past time he got back to his life. To his wife.

***

The next time Steve woke up, he was alone. He couldn’t hear anyone else in the room. Steve wished his wife was still there. He missed the warmth of her, the smell of her.

The chiming of his phone on his nightstand played again and he realized it woke him up. On the third chime, Steve reached for the phone and then his eyes flew open when he realized what he’d done. That he’d moved.

His eyes flew open. Tapping the screen, he answered the call, bringing his shaking hand with the device closer to his body so he didn’t drop it. Steve felt so weak.

“Yeah,” he muttered for an answer. His voice sounding as rough as a bad country road.

“There he is,” Tony Stark said with a smile in his voice. “I told Dyson if I didn’t talk to you today, I was coming over there. I asked him if you were too important to talk to me now.”

Steve snorted and it was an uglier sound than he expected from who knew how many days of disuse. “Too busy,” he managed.

“I guess, damn.” Tony laughed. “I have to admit, Barnes came in hot once the crown was on your head. I was getting worried about how you’d handle it all. How you’d handle Barnes.” Tony laughed again. “That was brutal.”

Oh, God. I don’t even know what they did…

“I know you were being… magnanimous before,” Tony went on. “I get that. But when you decide to deal with things, well…”

“Barnes had it coming,” Steve said, his voice a little stronger with each word. No matter what they’d been up to since he’d been out, Barnes deserved it. He had no doubt about that. “He left me no choice.”

“Hey, I’m not questioning you, big guy,” Tony told him. “Really, I’m not. Just curious when we were all going to collectively talk about how this is going to go. What’s going to happen to Barnes, stuff like that.”

Steve’s hand shook so badly, he passed the phone to his left hand. “Soon,” Steve told him. “We had some injuries.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, “about that. How are you? There are rumors flying around that you got shot or Dyson got shot. A couple even said your wife had been hit.”

His wife had been shot. And he’d been more terrified for her than himself in those moments after the shot fired. Steve had been fucking terrified, so terrified he hadn’t felt the bullet strike him at the time. But he was grateful. She hadn’t mentioned a thing about her injury or any effects from it. That was good. Maybe it meant she was on her way to fully healed.

“My wife was hit,” Steve said, fighting to speak as he normally did. “My top lieutenant was threatened. I can’t have that.”

“Absolutely,” Tony said, still sounding supportive. A tone designed to let Steve know where the Stark family stood in everything. Tony Stark had always been proactive. It was appreciated. “You needed to give the bastard something to think about.”

“I did,” Steve told him. “Do. I’ll be in touch very soon to call a meeting.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tony told him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Steve blew out an exhale, feeling tired from just the conversation. But damn it, he was awake now, and he needed to get back up to speed as quickly as possible. They were all likely still in some danger from Barnes, his family.

“I’ll let you know if I think of something,” Steve told him.

Ending the call, he dropped the phone onto the bed. The edges of his vision threatened him, fading to black. He broke out in a cold sweat, very much afraid if he blacked out now, he might get stuck again or worse.

Steve just had to face it. He needed to recover physically and there was nothing he could do to rush that.

And he needed to catch up. He needed to know what was done when. He’d have to accept responsibility for those actions to protect his family, his wife.

It was slow going and took a lot of effort but after several minutes, he was able to sit up, swing his legs over the side of the bed. His vision was dark around the edges, his breath came fast, and he broke out in a cold sweat from his efforts, but damn it, he did it.

***

You spun and moved through the Waltz of the Flowers, focusing on remembering the port de bras, the steps. You saw the ballet in New York during one of your secret trips and came home begging your instructor to help you learn anything from it. In that last year you lived in the home where you grew up, you’d worked hard to learn the small role from one of your favorite ballets. Oh, it wasn’t the Dewdrop Fairy, the leader fairy of the dance that no one seemed to even know existed. You were learning the dance of the supporting flowers from the classic story and that was good enough for you. That was plenty for you at the time.

Today, with everything preying on your mind, you’d gone back and watched the dance on YouTube first to remember all the steps. Anything to keep busy, to occupy your mind.

Was Steve coming back to you? You didn’t care if he really did beat your ass if he did. You’d take it. You just needed him back.

There you were in the studio Dyson helped you set up. There was still pain in your shoulder, but it was better each day. You had on your black leotard and tights. A fresh bandage covered your wound. It was chilly so you pulled an old sweatshirt for warmth before fitting into your pointe shoes.

You started the music with your phone and fell into those simple steps. The slower graceful dance of the flowers. And after the first minute or so, it all came back to you. The gentle spins, releve, plie. You didn’t imagine the dewdrop fairy you were supposed to be dancing around at first, not the other dancers. This dance was for you. A solo flower from a magical Christmas land far away.

A lone black flower from a funeral arrangement?

No. Shaking your head, you fought back tears and started the dance.

It was really the only thing that gave you any peace the last few days. Lost to the dance, the music took your mind off looking out the windows every few seconds to see if Barnes had shown up to kill you all yet. To kill you. Because you knew by now, he must really want to.

It also kept you from sitting by Steve’s bedside and crying for hours.

As much as you could remember, you moved through the steps of the dance. It wasn’t that good at first. But as you visualized it, worked through the dance in your mind, your dance got better, your movements more graceful as you moved. As you swept back to make room for the Dewdrop Fairy in your mind to come dancing back, you saw something in the corner of your eye. But as you came to a stop with the next step, you froze.

It was Steve, awake, looking washed out and weak as he leaned against the wall, watching you. He’d wrapped his bathrobe around himself, his feet were bare. The intensity of that blue-eyed expression took your breath away. He smiled as relief took you to your knees. All you could do was stare to see your husband was awake, finally. And you knew he was going to be pissed at you. So pissed. But you scrambled to your feet and sprinted for him, skidding to a stop when you realized you needed to be careful with him because of the wound, the stitches.

Wrapping your arms around his neck carefully, you couldn’t help but kiss him with tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

Steve kissed you back with a ferocity that surprised you as weak as he must have been. You let him. You were just so happy he was awake. Alive. Sure, all hell could break loose any minute now within the prominent Boston crime families but Steve coming back to you was the most important thing. The only thing. Everything else, with his lips sliding against yours, seemed less important in that private moment.

Steve shook in your grasp as he kissed you. Concern had you breaking that. As much as you’d like to think it was from that passionate moment, you didn’t want him to pass out on you. Not when you just got him back.

He let you steer him towards one of the folding chairs you kept in the studio, mostly to set your items on. You swept it all out in the floor as you urged him to sit and carefully, he did. But his gaze never left you. The man was staring at you with something like… awe?

“You’re okay?” he asked carefully.

You nodded, pulling the loose neckline of the sweatshirt you wore to show him the bandage. “It doesn’t hurt much now. I’m just fine Steve. Thanks to you.”

“You’ll have a scar,” he warned.

“I don’t care,” you told him, swiping at the tears with your hands. “Steve, you took a bullet for me. Why did you do that? Why were you even there?”

His eyes were suspiciously glossy as he stared at you. “I decided about five minutes after you left that I couldn’t risk losing you. I needed to be there. To protect you. It’s even scarier to think if I hadn’t been there, I would have lost you.”

A chill ran up your spine to consider he was right.

“I think you’re really glad to see me,” he said, his voice rougher than usual. The half smile that formed on his lips had your heart racing in your chest.

“Of course I am,” you told him, not even trying to stop your tears. Your mind spun with what you needed to do. “How are you feeling? I should go get Dyson and have him call doc. Yeah, I—”

“In a minute,” he told you. His hand carefully capturing yours, stopping you before you could flee to do just that. “You told me you loved me before you left that day. Was that real? Or was that in case you didn’t see me again?”

Steve had to be able to hear your heart. It felt like it would pound out of your chest. “It was real.”

He kept looking at you like you were a ghost, an image in his mind. “I’ve never… I’ve never seen you dance before. You look beautiful.”

“You’re always busy,” you said with a smile, melting under that comment.

“Will you dance for me one day?” The softness of his voice when he asked that question had your heart squeezing in your chest. The sincerity threatened to break you.

All you could do was nod.

Tugging your hand, he urged you closer. His hands at your hips guided you to sit on his lap and you were careful.

“We need to talk,” Steve said. “Just you and me for a moment.”

Oh, shit. Here we go.

You shook your head. “What’s more important than your health?”

“I need to know what’s happening,” Steve said slowly. That look he gave you. How long had he been up? Had he already talked to Dyson?

“Not a lot.” A huge lie. “We’ve all just been watching over you. Hoping you’d come back to us.”

“What’s happening?” he asked again. “What happened while I was out?”

You swallowed hard. Somehow Steve knew.

More tears. “Steve, what am I supposed to do? You just woke up and—”

“And?”

“When I tell you what happened, you’re not going to be happy.”

Steve huffed a laugh. “I’m sure.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you quietly started talking. You started with the aftermath of the shootout at Hansen’s house after the two of you had been shot. You told him Hansen was presumed dead but there was no proof.

Steve shook his head, telling you, “Hansen’s not dead.”

You told him Dyson had been roughed up but not badly harmed. Several of Barnes’ men had died. Clint had killed Banner and Hansen shot Neal in the face. You told him about the young woman who’d been taken from the donut shop on Steve’s turf and how she’d been found in Hansen’s house, kept as a sex slave. Steve had looked disgusted at that.

“What’s happened since that day?” Steve asked after a moment.

“Have you already talked to Dyson?” you asked nervously.

“No, but I heard you and Belova talk,” he admitted.

Shock would have had you jumping off his lap if he hadn’t kept you there. “What? You heard us?”

“I did,” Steve told you. “Not enough to know what’s going on. Enough to know you put yourself in danger with Barnes. Want to tell me about that?”

No.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Dyson exclaimed out of nowhere. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“I needed to get up,” Steve told him with a smile.

Dyson was as careful as you had been in hugging him. The happiness in the older man’s eyes was unmistakable as his gaze moved over him, assessing him.

“We need to get doc here to look at you,” Dyson told them.

“I need to talk to my wife first,” Steve countered, his grip on your firm.

“Yes, you do,” Dyson told him. “But after doc has looked at you. Then we’ll all talk because I think that would be best. There’s a lot you need to know.”

Words couldn’t express how much you loved Dyson at that moment.

Taking your hand and helping you stand, Dyson smiled. “Go call doc,” he bid you.

Nodding, relieved to get the doctor here and to have help in telling Steve that story, you pressed a kiss to your husband’s cheek and scrambled off to do that.

***

Steve watched you flee like you’d escaped the gallows. He let the tears come then. Pure relief ran through his veins. His wife was alive and recovering, crying over him.

Maybe she really does love me.

He hadn’t gotten to watch you dance long before you spotted him, and he regretted that. He could have watched that all day. He recognized the music from The Nutcracker Suite, but he couldn’t say which scene it was from.

But there his wife had been, all in black aside from the light pink shoes she wore. You might have been a shadow dancing, but your movements didn’t echo loneliness or sadness. Your movements were graceful but confident. It had been a stark reminder of so many years you’d been alone. It occurred to him now what you must have done with all that time your father left you in the care of servants.

You had a lot of time to listen and learn.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Dyson told him, helping him up out of the chair.

To Steve’s dismay, he was weak as a kitten. He allowed Dyson to help him to his feet and walked with him towards his room. He had no intention of getting back in bed, however.

“No, I’m getting dressed,” Steve told him. “I want to have that talk and hear what had happened while I was… out. Soon as possible.”

Everything.

Once he was seated on the side of his bed, watching Dyson gathering a casual outfit for him, his mind took over.

“Why was she anywhere near Bucky Barnes?” Steve wanted to know.

Dyson paused for a beat but went about his tasks, not making eye contact.

“I didn’t like that part either, boss,” Dyson said. “But when we lay it out for you, maybe it will make more sense.”

“You were in on these plans?” Steve asked.

Dyson approached him now with his clothes, his gaze unwavering. “I was.”

“Where does our family stand right now?”

Dyson placed the clothes on the bed and regarded him calmly. “Your family is the head family, and you are its leader. None of that changed while you were out.”

Steve could only imagine what had to happen for Dyson to say that so confidently. “Why was my wife involved?”

Dyson still didn’t react. “Because like it or not, your wife is part of this family, son.”

Dyson hadn’t son’d him in many years.

“What did I say—”

“No, you’ll listen to me now,” Dyson cut him off. “After the situation Hansen put us in, we didn’t have a choice but to react as the lead family and you weren’t available to make decisions, so the task fell to us. Turns out the plan was Barnes’s. Taking me, taking your wife, all of it. Hansen just decided that he was going to take Mrs. Rogers for himself hence the betrayal.”

“I know,” Steve said. He remembered all that.

“And there were all these stories out on the street, see? Some of them were very close to the truth,” Dyson explained. “If you hadn’t fallen into a coma from blood loss, you’d have been calling those shots. Since you were unavailable…”

“You did it?” Steve accused. “And you involved my wife?”

Color darkened Dyson’s face in a rare display of frustration. “No, your wife stepped up. And you need to start paying attention because your marriage, your wife, has been the problem here ever since you took power.”

“You’re blaming my wife?” Steve couldn’t have heard that right.

“No, I’m blaming you.” Dyson was direct. “You married her, you took the crown. You should have flourished. You had everything you needed to rule. Everything you wanted. Her, her father’s backing, your family’s strength. Why do you think it didn’t work out, huh?”

“I wasn’t counting on Barnes to have such a problem with all of this. I knew—”

“No,” Dyson cut him off again. “Forget Barnes. This is all on you.”

“How do you figure?” Steve realized Dyson was pissed at him.

“If you hadn’t been so obsessed with your wife, you would have handled things,” Dyson explained. “You navigated her into this marriage – with her father’s blessing – and that should have been that. You get married to the old boss’s daughter to solidify your claim. She’s a beautiful young woman who will keep you on your toes. But no, that wasn’t good enough…”

“What the fuck are you getting at?” Steve asked. Was it brain fog keeping him from seeing what his mentor was getting at?

“Just what I said,” Dyson told him. “Your obsession with your wife is the fucking problem. It’s your blind spot and it always has been. If you hadn’t been so busy trying to control her, to mold her into what you thought she should be, you wouldn’t have been at odds with each other all these weeks.”

Maybe he had a point.

“If you hadn’t been at odds with your wife and fixated on that, you wouldn’t have come so close to losing that leadership position you wanted so badly. You wouldn’t have come so close to losing it all.”

Dyson got closer. Got in his face.

“You were also too blind or too stupid to realize that your wife has the instincts she does,” Dyson went on, meaning business. “She’s sharp. She reads people well. She’s a lot like her old man.”

Steve nodded. “I’m coming to realize that.”

“Good,” Dyson said. “Because we’re all going to talk about what happened while you were out. And she will be there. She earned her place at the table and you’re going to hear what she has to say.”

Steve nodded his acquiescence. Dyson wasn’t there when Steve brought his wife in to craft the plan to deal with Hansen. He’d been Hansen’s hostage.

No, Steve was very interested in what happened and what part she played in it. But as a husband, he was also slightly terrified of what he might hear. As a man in his position, he needed to figure out how to keep his wife and family out of harm’s way, to protect them.

Steve didn’t have the physical strength, at the moment, to fight any of them.

“Let’s get you in the shower,” Dyson told him, helping him off the bed.

***

“Maybe I should sit this one out,” Yelena muttered as she walked with you to Steve’s study. “I can’t imagine he’s going to be happy I’m still here.”

You stopped, looking her in the eye. “No, you need to be here for this meeting. You’ve been at my side since I married into this situation and I’m not allowing him to send you away again.”

Slowly, she smiled. A flash of hope lit up her hazel eyes. “You’re ready for this, aren’t you?”

You nodded. Indeed, you were. While your husband had been comatose, you did what you thought was best for the family, guided by Steve’s own council. It was still a dangerous time and as far as you were concerned, all of you needed to be involved until Barnes was dealt with and Steve’s position was solidified once and for all.

“I need to know you have my back,” you told her.

“Always,” she said, meaning it.

“Then let’s get in here,” you told her. The two of you were the last to arrive.

You’d cleaned up, dressed in a simple black dress and cardigan set with silver piping. Maybe it was silly, but you’d always worn it when you were heading into the unknown. Your secret trips to New York City with your governess or those rare meetings with your father before you took care of him in his final days. With the stockings and glossy black heels, it felt like armor.

And as you met your husband’s gaze from where he sat behind his desk, you realized you needed armor. His gaze swept over you appreciatively as you sat in the chair directly in front of him and next to Dyson. He looked you over too. He smirked in what you thought was approval.

“I saved you a seat,” Scott smiled at Yelena, motioning to the chair next to him to your left.

Clint and Luca sat with them behind you. The room was unusually quiet. Steve nodded to Clint who got up to close the door to the office.

Steve’s gaze moved over everyone in the room, he took his time. He wore a crimson sweater with jeans. He looks so tired. Finally, his gaze stayed on Dyson.

“My wife told me most of what happened after we were shot,” Steve started. “I need to know what happened after that.”

Dyson looked to you, and you nodded. It was probably better that he start. Steve cocked a brow at the silent communication.

“It was pretty much Tuesday at the Okay fucking Corral,” Dyson told him. “It was all me and Yelena could do to get the two of you out. But Hansen didn’t wait for that. It was a hell of a shootout. Barnes lost several men, we lost some too. Not as many.”

“Your friends make it out?” Steve asked.

Dyson nodded. “And we were damn lucky they happened to be in town.”

You were indeed. You were especially grateful to Jensen.

“You got the two of us out,” Steve said. “Then?”

“Hansen and Clay faced off,” Dyson explained. “Hansen was hurt but he made it out. He ain’t dead. Barnes gets a hold of him, he might wish he were.”

You couldn’t imagine Hansen being afraid of anyone.

“We got everyone back,” Dyson went on. “Got doc over here… You lost a lot of blood and went to sleep on us. We had a lot to think about, boss. You have to realize that Barnes’ plan that night was meant to knock you off the throne. They set a trap for you. Neal and I were supposed to go confront Hansen and take him out. That was our plan. But Neal was working for Barnes.”

Dyson cut his gaze to you. “You never liked, Neal. You weren’t wrong.”

No, you weren’t. The bastard had been nothing but disrespectful to you and Yelena. He’d put you at odds with your own husband by telling him about the nurse’s visit. How happy he must have been when Steve locked you away as a punishment. Thinking about it now, maybe Neal did it on purpose. The fact that you were stuck there might have made it easier for Hansen or Barnes to get to you.

“Barnes plan was to use me to lure you out, boss,” Dyson said. “The plan was to take you off the board for good. Barnes was confident, all things considered, that Hansen could get it done with Neal’s help.”

You shivered thinking about it. Steve trusted Neal. He’d go to protect Dyson. It might have worked.

“Instead, Hansen decided to lure Mrs. Rogers out and he meant to take off with her,” Dyson explained.

“Where is Neal?” A muscle twitched at Steve’s jaw.

“He’s dead,” you said quietly. “Hansen shot him in the face.”

Steve met your gaze, shaking his head.

“And since then?” Steve asked. “What’s happened?”

Dyson glanced at you, at the others. “We had a situation. Barnes hit us hard, and you were in a coma. If anyone realized you were out of commission, we would be dead in the water. A response was expected. And a response was delivered.”

Steve nodded. “I guess you did. Tony called me and he sounded impressed… So, what happened?”

“We sent Barnes presents,” Dyson told him. “Paulina was the warning shot.”

“Paulina?” Steve asked.

That had your heart lurching and old jealousy rearing its ugly head. Paulina was Kat’s sister. Was Steve afraid Kat had been hurt?

“Yeah,” Dyson said. “She’s still around. We just put her in the hospital.”

Steve looked confused but didn’t say anything.

“Kat appreciated Barnes taking care of the bill,” Dyson said. “She brought him a thank you gift. We sent him a gift too in the same bag. He got a five-finger discount.”

That blue-eyed gaze cut to you and back.

“Neal was his eyes and ears in this house for too long,” Dyson went on. “We took those and made a special treat for him. A tiramisu from his favorite restaurant.”

Your stomach clenched just thinking about that. You couldn’t imagine finding human ears and eyes in your dessert.

“And the grand finale was all heart,” Dyson told Steve, turning to grin at Clint on that one.

Steve blew out an exhale and you just waited for the tirade to begin. You could tell his mind was going a mile a minute and you felt bad for him because his color was off, and he looked so tired.

“Belova was there at Hansen’s when I arrived,” Steve began. “I do remember telling her she’s out.” Scrubbing a hand over his beard, he shook his head. “And you all just let my wife be party to all this? Killing people? Eyes, ears, hearts? I don’t even understand why Paulina was involved in this.”

Had your beautiful bastard of a husband learned nothing from all this?

Dyson shot you a warning look, watching you shift in your seat. “We collectively—”

“Yelena,” you started, “is the only reason we’re all still here.”

A quick glance at her showed her staring at you in surprise.

“When you sent her away,” you went on, “which you had no right to do because if I remember correctly, her being my personal protection was your wedding present to me, Dyson knew the danger she’d be in on the street. His friends were in town, thank God they were, and she stayed with them while they were here. She’s the one who got us the intel on Banner. She called Clint and told him where to find him, hiding on Stark’s turf. I explained all of this to you that day. He didn’t say anything about killing Banner at the time because of Nat and how she’d take it. No one gave him the order to kill Banner, but he did. I’d like to think you’d do that if someone beat my ass the way he beat your sister.”

Steve looked alarmed. He was about to say something, but you beat him to the punch.

“If that chain of events hadn’t happened, that day would have been far worse, Steve,” you went on. “If Dyson’s friends hadn’t been here, the day would have been worse. We can’t ever let this family’s safety depend solely on luck ever again. That was too close.”

Shifting on your chair so you could look around the room at your family and dearest friends, you shook your head.

“Paulina?” you asked. “Yeah, maybe that was stooping to their level. Banner beat Nat more than once and all the while he was spying on us. Betraying you. Beating Paulina was Nat’s call. A sound beating with bruises that wouldn’t show. It’s a good first step in taking back her power.”

Clint met your gaze, nodded his approval.

“Who did it?” Steve asked.

“Oh, I knew you’d ask that,” you told him. “Does it make you feel better that it was Yelena who did the deed?”

You could just tell from the subtle shift in his expression that it did.

“We found the girl who worked in the donut shop locked in a room in Hansen’s house. He was keeping her there because she looks like me. You can’t imagine what that poor thing has been through.”

Now Steve really did look startled.

“And the rest?” You said to your husband. “Dyson didn’t want me to be a party to it either, no. And I didn’t order any hits if that’s what you’re worried about. The fingers in Kat’s shopping bag? They belonged to Hansen’s man who kidnapped that girl. He died in the shooting at Hansen’s house. He didn’t need those fingers anymore.”

Steve just stared at you now.

“The eyes and ears?” you went on. “Neal was already dead. Hansen killed him.”

“Who’s idea was that?” Steve managed to ask. “The tiramisu?”

Luca’s hand shot up. “Mine. I made it.”

That had you grinning.

“The heart was Banner’s,” you explained. “He was already dead too.”

The slightest flush of color darkened Steve’s face. “And what about Barnes? You want to tell me why you were anywhere near him? What were you and Belova doing there?”

There was no going back now.

“The house is being watched,” you explained. “Stark and Wilson called every single day. We were worried that someone was going to figure out what was going on here, that you were potentially done for.”

Dyson’s gaze on you was intense, the hurt still flashing in his eyes from that plan because he’d disagreed with it so vehemently.

“We tried to take Barnes out,” you explained watching disbelief bleed into his expression. “After everything he’s done to all of us, he deserves it, Steve.”

You were speaking forcefully while your husband listened with an expression that you were struggling to read.

“Barnes gave us the idea himself,” you went on. “He called the girl from the donut shop. He wanted to meet with her, to see if she knew anything that would help him find Hansen. We arranged the meeting. I went in her place. I wore a mask because some people still wear them from the pandemic, and he didn’t realize I wasn’t her. Not until the end…”

Steve leaned forward in his chair, angry now. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We poisoned him,” you shot back. “The blade was dipped in poison. If I hadn’t chickened out, Yelena wouldn’t have had to step in. The way it went apparently didn’t kill him, but it did some damage. It bought us some time. And now you’re awake.”

“Barnes will know something is up,” Steve countered. “He knows I’d never send you into a dangerous situation like that.”

“He does know. But he can’t prove it,” you said.

“He’s going to come for you,” Steve said, his ire fading.

“I know,” you said. You’d lived in fear of that each day that Steve was still asleep.

“He can’t tell anyone.” Steve huffed a dry laugh. “A mob boss stabbed by a woman?”

Yelena was trying not to grin at that. You couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t want you to ever put yourself in a position like that ever again,” Steve said to you with uncharacteristic calm. “I want everyone else in this room to swear to me that you’ll never allow that to happen again. Break your word and you’ll pay for it.”

The other men in the room quickly murmured their agreement. Yelena remained silent, staring at her hands in her lap.

“Belova,” Steve said, drawing her attention. “You’re my wife’s chosen security. So that goes double for you. Where her security is concerned, my word is final. Not hers. You got it?”

Yelena cut her gaze to you before nodding and meeting his gaze. “Yes, boss.”

While you were happy Yelena was being allowed to stay, your concern rose. “Steve, you can’t just keep me locked away to keep me safe. Not now.”

Steve stared at you for a long moment and your heart raced while you waited. You could have heard a pin drop in the posh office.

“I won’t,” Steve told all of you. “You’ll be part of my council from this point on. You all worked together to make decisions to protect the family when I couldn’t. Do you all agree?”

The response to that question was much louder and positive. Dyson looked from Steve to you with so much pride.

“It’s done,” Steve said.

Steve had made you part of his council. Your mind was spinning.

“Thank you all,” Steve said, concluding the meeting. “Rest up today. Tomorrow, we start planning. Dyson, keep security elevated around the house for now.”

Dyson winked at you. “Yes, boss.”

Then Steve’s gaze met yours as you were about to stand. “Stay.”

You did. And it was so quiet when it was just the two of you left in his office.

“Like I told you earlier, I agreed to letting you go to Hansen’s that day, but I regretted it almost immediately. That’s why I came after you and all of it was a mistake. By now I’d like to think you realize that as head of the family, head of all the families, why I have to be careful where I go. I’m not a soldier anymore. Sometimes I forget that.”

When he put it that way, yes, you did understand. “But it was Dyson.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But if I’d had my head on straight, they wouldn’t have been able to get to him. That’s on me.”

Had everything that happened rattled Steve that much? Was this accountability?

“And I get why you felt like you should be able to go meet Barnes after that. I’d allowed you into my business, sent you to Hansen’s. That’s on me too.”

What?

“Steve, we’re married. Doesn’t that make it our business?” you asked carefully.

“Maybe so… It’s just… I’ll never be able to get the memory of you jumping in front of Dyson out of my head,” Steve said, eyes shiny with tears. “I’m willing to try this, to make you part of my council. I’m not completely sold on the idea but Dyson and the rest of them respect you enough to follow your orders.”

“You doubted it before because I’m a woman?”

“No, I doubted it because I’m selfish,” Steve said. “And afraid. Dyson’s right, you have good instincts. You knew more about what was going on in my house in a few weeks than I ever have... My father was like that, gave me good advice.”

Tears stung the backs of your eyes as you listened to your husband.

“Your father was a mentor to me too the last year of his life,” Steve went on. “He knew more than my old man. Dyson and Luca seem to think you’re a lot like him. Maybe they’re right.”

“Steve—”

“Let me get this out,” Steve told you. “I’m used to having enemies. I’m not used to having enemies that want my wife as much or more than ending my sorry ass. Twice now you’ve been seriously threatened. How am I going to lead the families when I can’t protect my own fucking wife?”

He was blinking back tears and you dashed around it to get to him, to wrap your arms around him. He again pulled you into his lap, holding onto you like you were a rant in the storm. When he finally got himself under control, that blue-eyed gaze was back on you.

“If you want in on this business, I agree,” Steve told you. “Under the condition that you stay out of the action. Is that in any way unclear?”

At least he wasn’t asking you to swear to him. Because that wasn’t something you would swear never to do again. If someone you loved was in danger, of course you’d be in the action. Still, you nodded.

But then you thought of something. “You’re not going to agree to this and take it away from me the moment I get pregnant, are you?”

That pulled the corners of his mouth up. “I will want to. But I doubt I’d have any luck in trying that.”

“You wouldn’t,” you assured him.

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” Steve said, his arms tightening around you. “We probably shouldn’t be in a hurry to start a family… With all this going on? We’ve got time. If and when we both agree we want to start a family, we’ll revisit it then.”

You’d been braced for a fight. You couldn’t have been more astonished by what you were hearing.

“Are you feeling okay?” you finally had to ask.

That had Steve chuckling. “Yes, I’m fine. Just hoping I recover quickly because those heels make your legs look so fucking sexy.”

Okay, that was something he’d say.

His fingers tracing your leg from ankle to thigh made you shiver. Slowly, his touch skimmed up your body, over one breast and up to your jaw. Slowly, he leaned in to kiss your mouth. A slow seeking kiss that promised so much.

“You will make me a better leader,” he whispered against your lips.

“You already are a good leader, Steve,” you told him. “Maybe it was because all we did was fight all the time. Maybe it’s just that your attention was divided.”

You could have laughed at the sliver of hope creeping into his expression. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you told him before kissing him breathless.

@valsworldofcreativity @21stcenturywitchcraft @coconutqueen21 @bval-1 @caffiend-queen @sadlittlecountess @candy-and-writing @capsicle-shield @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @coldmuffinbanditshoe @daughterofthenight117 @hv-chw3 @iheartsebstan @imanuglywombat @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @justrae9903 @lokislastlove @mariaenchanted @maxwelllee2020 @nekoannie-chan @nerdwholikesword @notyourtypicalrose @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @peaceinourtime82 @rainbowkisses31 @rayofdawnworld @richonne4life @rissysthoughts-blog @saiyanprincessswanie @scarletsoldier21-blog @shygirl-00 @supernaturaldean67 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @team-iron-wannabe-man @titty-teetee @tonib666 @villanellev @vitamingummies @what-is-your-plan-today @what-is-your-wish @xoxabs88xox @rosalynshields @naturalthrone22 @marvelovernfan @gotnofucks @eralen @kawairinrin @bluemusickid @geminievans1 @daughterofthenight117 @sunmoonandbuckyrecs @jesevans @kandis-mom @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @kmc1989 @curiousandjoyous @marvelouslyme96

#His Inheritance #Mafia AU #Mob boss!Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers x you #Bucky Barnes #Yelena Belova #Clint Barton

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k-n0-x · 2 months

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༺ ♱✮♱ ¨:·Something Stupid- Chapter 1·:¨ ♱✮♱ ༻

A/N- Hey everyone! I hope you guys are doing well. This story is a longer series of Lucifer Morningstar x reader where you’re Adam’s third wife. This story will have roughly 10 official chapters, but there will be shorter fillers which will be labelled as [previous chapter number].5.

I also made a playlist in honour of this fanfiction :D

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Enjoy! <3

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🦢♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

As you use your wings to sweep down to the sultry streets of Hell, you frantically look around for any stray troops, for them to tell you everything. Anything.

“Where is this gods be darned hotel,” You think to yourself, along with other incoherent and unfinished thoughts.

But it all connects back to one hanging thought in the back of your mind.

Heaven is a Lie.

What happened to all that “Killing is bad” and “Murder is sin” bullshit that they preached?

This is a genocide.

All of these demons, from young to old, didn’t do anything wrong, (well atleast, not in this moment)

Is it that hard for Adam to see?

He’s been feeding you these utter lies this entire time? This news was a bombshell on you at the meeting when that lovely young girl, Charlie was pitching her idea.

Speaking of bombs, a piercing and explosive sound emits from the other side of the city.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

As you traverse the debris of the crumbling city, you spot two familiar faces amongst the face of fire.

One of which that you despised ever since that meeting.

Lute.

The other had her back faced towards the lieutenant. Her horns protruded from her scalp and her long blonde hair billowing in the breeze, unaware that Lute was about to strike.

“LUTE, NO!” You put yourself in the face of the Angelic weapon, your wings disarming the troop general to avoid her striking down Charlie.

“Y/N? What in the actual living fuck are you doing here?”

“I should be the one asking the questions here,” You point an accusing finger into the general’s chest.

“Where’s Adam? I need to have a serious discussion with him. If you see any other troops, tell them to stand down,”

“You’re not my bos-”

“I said. Stand. The. Fuck. Down. NOW!” You stare Lute down, and she glares at you back.

She doesn’t say anything, but you could see her biting her tongue.

You turn to Charlie.

“Charlie, come on, we gotta go!”

“But, I- I don’t understand, why are you he-”

“Just trust me on this one okay? Go and make sure no one is in imminent danger. I will handle my husband myself,”

The Princess looks up at you, eyes flooded with admiration, trust, and hope as you soar back into action.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

You swoop in and out of shattered buildings in fruitless attempts to find Adam amidst the screams and battle cries of both Angels and Demons.

“Adam? ADAM?!” You screech into the crimson sultry sky.

Another explosive pierces through the sky from not far where you were barely a minute ago.

“Ugh, Lute I swear,” You mutter under your breath and your attention is quickly turned to two shadows attacking each other. You look overhead and see two figures; one of them is adorned with a priest’s garments (obviously, Adam), and the other… well…

Does not have a definable shape whatsoever.

One moment, it has taken the form of a bird, and the next it has the figure of a snake.

One thing never changed though, a sporting white top hat stayed gracefully on his head in each form.

This ever changing specimen seems to be teasing your partner.

“Adam? Haven’t seen ya since Eden,” He maneuvered between all of Adam’s punches.

“Gotta say, it really seems like you’ve let yourself go,”

Adam scoffs.

“You, Lucifer, judging me? You’re the most hated being in all of gods be damned creation!”

Ah, that makes much more sense now.

The shape-shifting demon, finally setting on a figure, with a smirk, almost nonchalant expression on his face.

Dodging the First Man’s bolts of angelic power, Lucifer still doesn’t relent with the tomfoolery.

“Well, your first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer,” He places his index and middle gloved digits between his lips and drags them downwards, his snake tongue between them.

Ooof, that’s gotta hurt.

Well it definitely did. On Lucifer’s end that is for sure. One of Adam’s blows finally managed to hit him, knocking him backwards, and inadvertently knocking you out of your trance.

Fuck, you were supposed to be stopping this.

“ADAM!” Your husband turns to face you, looking from the ground, dumbfounded.

“Y/n?! What the actual fuck are you doing down here?”

“Why is everyone asking me that?!” You draw in a breath, irritated.

Just get to the point.

“Tell your little army to stop. Playtime’s over,”

Adam descends down to you, with disagreement written all over his face.

“Nah,” He smirks.

“What the FUCK do you mean ‘Nah?’ What are you, 10?”

“Yeah, 10 inches deep in you,”

Your face distorts into a one of disdain. Marrying is probably one of the worst decisions you made.

“You don’t need to make this any harder than it needs to be,” Then it clicked. An utterly vile, but devious idea struck your mind.

“Dear Adam,” you hum, layering on the most seductive voice you can. Both Adam and Lucifer look at you, both confused at your quick change of tone.

Well this is going to be the most embarrassing 30 seconds of your life.

Alas, you carry yourself with a more fluid demeanor, as his eyes follow you. Though as stupid as he is, he isn’t going to fall for your tricks that easily.

You snuggle up to him, your hand gently caressing his upper thigh, reaching right where the source of all manhood was. Stroking not only his dick, but his ego as well, which you were really going for.

You whisper in his ear.

“Come back home darling~ you need some time to rest, hm?” You let your fingers circle around his tip. “I’ve been waiting for you for a while now~”

He smirks. Bingo.

“Fine, but I’ll be waiting for you at home, love,” He says with a wild grin.

“Lovely,” you say through smiling teeth.

Though behind that smile, there is absolutely nothing worthy of mentioning.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“Well, I sincerely apologise for my husband’s behaviour. Honestly, I would have stopped him sooner if I found out,” You bow to the group of demons.

Utter despair is written on the entire group’s faces.

“What’s the matter? I know your hotel has been blown to bits, but at least everyone here is safe,” your tone is uncertain.

“Right?”

Charlie is the first to pipe up to speak.

“Sir, Pentious- he-,” Her voice cracks.

“Oh honey,” you turn to try and comfort her with your wings, though abruptly interrupted by a threatening cough from Lucifer, who was behind you.

You want to comfort the Princess of Hell, but you decide against it and turn to face the group.

“I just want to say, before leaving, that I am on your side. I know Heaven is the real enemy and I will try to aid in any possible way, though right now I have to be going,” You look at each demon in turn, Lucifer for last, as he gives you a once over, as though you’ve intrigued him in some way.

“Well, erh, farewell. For now?” You give Charlie a tentative squeeze on the arm, and give Vaggie an acknowledging nod, which was returned.

As you spread your wings and soar back to heaven, you come to the realisation of what you’re gonna have to do when you get home.

Or rather, who…

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🐣♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

Word count- 1,229

#fanfiction #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #fluff #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #charlie morningstar #angel dust #hazbin hotel lute #angst #lucifer magne #lucifer smut #Spotify

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eliashirsch · 1 day

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God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (3/3)

Part three of my fanfic recommendation! This one's for the best fics!

Winner Categories:

1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)

2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)

3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)

REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!!

Best of the Best Fics

Fics that shine bright as the stars. Make sure to check the author’s other works too!

ICEMAV

Kings of the Air by FabulaRasa @fabula-unica

Fighting and fucking: two things he did extraordinarily well. How could he have known what the effect would be when you combined the two?

This and COMPACFLT’s work directly inspired one of my works:) The writing quality is absolutely amazing. My favorite fics are those that have Ice returning to Top Gun and joining Mav as an instructor and this one just takes the whole motherfucking crown.

Indian Ocean. Present Day. by Jay Tryfanstone (tryfanstone)

Isolated on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Indian Ocean, cut off from any source of information about the global political and environmental disaster which has engulfed the planet, Maverick and Goose struggle to make sense of an increasingly claustrophobic command structure and failing resources on board. When a refugee helicopter is spotted approaching the carrier, its pilot could be the catalyst for an explosive re-evaluation....

This fic man. This fic. It made me fall in love with post-apocalyptic fics. The writing style, the plot, Ice and Mav and Goose. Goose, man… Oh my god. If you read this fic you know why I’m still thinking about these boys’ fates.

Rhinestone Cowboy by omnidirectional

That’s Doctor Iceman to you! Maverick bangs himself up and gets rescued by someone he didn’t expect. A Missing Scene featuring contrived situations, questionable life choices, gratuitous product placement, and shirtlessness. You know, everything you love about canon.

And it is absolutely everything I love about canon! I always love missing scenes or canon divergent. Not to say that I don’t enjoy AUs, but I love vibes like this the most where the story works alongside canon and elevates it to a whole other level. Mav and Ice and Slider feels correct.

Sleepless Nights by demiclar @demiclar / @slidersimp

Five times Maverick wakes himself up with nightmares and one time he's woken by someone else.

Fics about Mav’s grief over Goose’s death will always wreck me. This one in particular shows itself as a physical manifestation. I love love love all the guys stepping up and taking care of Mav, never once judging his pain. I’m a sucker for portrayals of the ugly side of grief.

Mal de Mer by saurora_borealis

"I thought you said you didn't get seasick, you little liar," Slider snaps. Maverick doesn't answer, head bowed, but Ice can see him shaking from here. Of all the times for Maverick to be sick, did it have to be on a night that Ice is ill too? Or: the carrier experiences some ocean turbulence. Even the most seasoned aviators fall prey to it.

This one has sort of the same vibe as the fic above. I never get tired of seeing the flyboys take care of each other<3

be my soulmate (and i'll be yours) by ChexMix

Of course Maverick dreams about finding his soulmate. Who doesn't? But he'd never imagined the possibility that it could be the Iceman. So when he catches sight of Ice's soulmark, it suddenly becomes all he can think about.

Classic Icemav soulmate AU. This is like exactly my type of angst and happy ending. Sometimes the things you’re familiar with are still the best:)

To Build a Home by LadyLanera @k9effect

Eighteen years before Top Gun Maverick, there was a home being built from ashes and ruin. When the dust finally settled and dusk fell, the house of cards collapsed, shattering three lives forever. Is it possible to rebuild, reclaiming the past in the future...when they're all hurtling towards their worst nightmare?

Goddddd. I love Mav’s character flaw in this. I love Ice’s maturity born from grief and sickness. I love Bradley’s anger and abandonment issues. I love that these three have hurt each other more than anyone ever could, but their love is still starkly present. My thoughts when I was reading this was that LadyLanera wrote their flaws so beautifully, making them human, and by doing so I understood their motivations and their actions. Amazing characterization.

all is fair (in love and war) by dulcetines (evecstasy)

oh, ice, maverick bisa merasakan hati kecilnya meringis, ice, sori banget— hollywood menyelak lagi, kali ini dengan suara impersonasi terbaiknya: “teruntuk kuncen TOPGUN, yang mana di sana kuyakin matahari belum juga terbit sebersamaan dengan ditulisnya surat ini. aku ingin saat ini juga kau bersyukur tidak mesti mendengarkan slider ngorok di sampingmu. tuhan jesus. pria ini sudah kuanggap saudara sendiri, tapi terkadang ada saja hal-hal yang dilakukannya yang membuatku ingin menggulingkannya ke laut. kau apa kabar di sana? sudah berapa pilot yang kauhabisi egonya? apapun itu. jangan mati kebosanan dulu. aku bisa bilang begini karena surat-suratmu selalu mengancam demikian. ingat kau masih hutang makan malam denganku. dan sepuluh dolar. sampaikan salamku ke bayi itik. bilang aku kangen padanya. dan,” hollywood memalsukan dehem, sambil ia melanjutkan, “padamu juga. setiap detikku. ice.” begitulah.

Hehehehehe. Now this is more for me LMAO because as you can see, it’s written in Indonesian. Finding this fic in my mother language is like finding GOLD. Again, I love love love Icemav in their Top Gun era. This is for all of you Indonesian Top Gun enthusiast *blows a kiss*

a higher fidelity by basedchamp

“C’mon.” Tori nudges him with an elbow. “C’mon. He’s cute. You can admit that one thing but you can’t admit this?” Gritting his teeth, Ice thinks very carefully about his next words. “He’s…” he trails off. “Some would say that…Mitchell is not. Unpleasant. To look at.” (Alternatively: the one where Ice and Mav learn to park bad, eat good, and love even better.)

Ice’s family, man… It’s refreshing to see them so supportive and loving. I’m guilty of making Ice’s backstory so tragic>:) But this one is heartwarming! I love the style and flow of the writing. It’s something that I want to achieve in my own writing as well, so kudos to basedchamp!

Tunnel Vision by brainjuicey (anzietyfreak) @brainjuicey

Instead of Ice biting the air in the locker room, he antagonises Mav by biting his neck, unknowingly setting off dormant Omega genes and sending him into heat. Everyone involved is forced to remain secure on base until they’ve investigated. AKA. Five Alphas, a Beta, and an Omega in heat, walk into an Air Base prison. Ramifications ensue. Alternative title, "Locked in Sex Jail With The Boys"

This scratched that specific part in my brain, man. ABO with the original cast of Top Gun? Sign me up, baby. Steamy and perfect.

The Five People You Can't Escape in Heaven by V_Evergreen

Maverick dies, but it doesn't end there. Alternately: [“Hey, kiddo, are you with me?” Maverick opened his eyes and found that he could see. He blinked in the sudden light as his surroundings came into focus. Quite literally came into focus, as though everything around him was resolving into itself as he looked, deciding to form a lawn, flowerbeds, the tree trunk that he had been leant against. The sun was blinding overhead, high noon. In the distance, hazy and indistinct, he could make out a house. It looked vague, like a half formed memory but it was familiar. Just like the man crouched in front of him. “Dad?” He croaked.]

I was reading the original book (The Five People You Meet in Heaven) and came across this fic. Which in turn made me want to write my own rendition from the same idea. That last chapter, man. It’s unreal how creative it is. A punch to the gut for sure.

(Here’s my fic if you want to read about it :) >> Estrellita)

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother by V_Evergreen

Five meetings between Thomas Kazansky and Ethan Hunt. Alternately: [Ethan heard the door click shut behind him and turned to ask after the papers when he was abruptly spun by a hand on his shoulder and pushed against the door. His first and immediate thought was that he was certainly being attacked. Kazansky had him pressed against the door, chest to chest, a hand around his wrist and then- oh. Oh no. He wasn’t being attacked at all, it was infinitely worse. He was being very thoroughly kissed. He pushed back against Kazansky’s chest and tried to think of something eloquent to say. “Um?”]

Another banger by V_Evergreen. Ice not knowing Mav has a twin and mistakenly kissing him is so funny. And the end is heartwarming as well. Love love love it.

Allies by Shearmouth

After getting shot down over a war-torn Iraq, Maverick makes some unlikely friends. They have something– a big something– in common. But all Mav really wants is Ice. Too bad he's half a world away, and even Mav can't run that on a shattered leg. Not with the infected chest wounds thrown in, at least.

Oh my goddddd. I keep being at a loss for words when describing these fics. It won’t do anyone good if all I wrote was goddd, oh mannn, it’s so goodddd. But it’s the truth. This one hits home so much. The risk and homophobia present when you’re in a place that punishes queer people for existing and being in love, how a single mistake will cost you your future. And it’s so heartwarming to see that even then, you’re not alone. Mav being helped to reunite with Ice and breaking down that since their relationship was private, Ice had to grief Mav alone. Man, oh man.

There is a pain—so utter by CurSirrr

Pete Mitchell was fine. Completely fine. He didn’t feel dizzy with denial, or an utter trainwreck of hopelessness. He hadn’t shed a single tear or cried himself to sleep for the past week. His guts were twisting and turning, squeezing and cramping. His eyes were swollen and red, and his scalp hurt from his vicious hair tugs as he tried to understand the past week. OR Three times Bradley misses the chance to say goodbye before it is too late.

Just read the summary and prepare for a world of pain:) Ice’s canon death still haunts me. Good thing he’s sleeping away in his big house that he co-owns with Mav, regularly saves his husband’s ass, have barbeque Sunday with Bradley and Jake and the dagger squad, happy and healthy:))

keeping his cards close to his chest by Serie11 @oathkeeperoxas

It's not that Lucy wishes that her boss would be more open with her. It's that she quite literally knows nothing about the man, despite Admiral Kazansky being her CO for half a decade. Or: 5 times Ice successfully hid something from his staff, and 1 time Ice revealed his biggest secret

Love seeing Icemav seen through other people’s perspective. It adds so much to the universe. Ice and Mav being their usual old married couple while everyone around them suffers. Excellent.

'til I meet you there by adiduck (book_people) @adiduck

Maverick wakes up in the snow, helmet on, entire body aching intensely and parachute still attached. It takes him about half an hour of trekking through the snow to notice that there’s anything amiss. (Or: Maverick Mitchell is in the habit of talking to his ghosts. Usually, they don’t talk back.)

Mav’s journey through the underworld. This fic is just too creative😭Always a delight to see how loved Mav is. It’s so whimsical and confusing and so great.

the ships have come to carry you home by indigofudge

“Here it is,” Carole says, bringing Mav’s wheelchair to a stop. Mav’s mouth is dry. He aches for another cup of water. “Carole, tell me something, and don’t lie to me.” “Anything, Maverick.” “How bad does he look?” Carole is quiet for a while. Then she comes around and kneels in front of Mav, taking both of his hands in her own. Her eyes swim with tears. “If I didn’t know any better,” she says, voice breaking, “I’d think he was dead.” • Or, Goose is alive when they hit the water. That's enough.

Goose survives AU!!!! Huh? This isn’t canon? What are you talking about? Of course, Goose survives and the Bradshaw family is still whole and Mav still has his family and gets to have Ice too. What are you talking about??

Swallow by wildglitterwolf

Ice is getting tired of Maverick's inability to be a team player. Maverick is annoyed by Ice's gum chewing. Ice is more than happy to get rid of it, he just needs a place to put it...

TT.TT Just… I didn’t know I like this dynamic so much…

HANGSTER

cruise control by res_judicata

Rooster’s plane goes down on a Tuesday. Jake remembers that it’s a Tuesday because he had been out grabbing a quick bite for lunch with Javy and the little chalkboard on the wall of the cafe had proclaimed that Tuesday’s special was linguine in white wine with fresh mussels. (Jake deals with grief and love)

Made me cry a goddamn river. I’ve said this before, but Hangster is one of those ships that I had trouble getting into. When I first got into the fandom back in June 2022, I strictly read Icemav, never dipping my toes into Hangster’s relationship because I never felt the spark. But as time goes by I’m starting to warm up and have read more and more. This fic is one of those where it captured my attention instantly. I knew it was going to be angsty, but still holding out hope for a happy ending (just like Jake in this story). The grief that blanketed the whole writing only made the resolution more beautiful.

WHORES IN MY BED. by pornogirl

“Jake-” Bradley’s eyes have a wet glimmer to them, the kind of wet that looks like the beginnings of tears and Jake wants to kiss him so badly. “Jake, is it loaded?” Jake rolls his eyes at the question. “Open your fucking mouth.” (Author’s notes: it's really not as bad as the tags may suggest but like. read the fucking tags!)

I’m a freak and I’m not ashamed of it:) Basically, Jake's going on about how pretty Bradley is crying and scared. If this is your kink, definitely worth the read. I don’t know if it’s because I find it hot, but I don’t get the unsafe feeling as opposed to reading other works that have noncon elements. I don’t know it feels more like it’s both of their kinks or like something they’ve discussed before but Jake didn’t warn Bradley prior. Like CNC, I guess? Anyway it’s really hot and I have not looked at my retainers the same way;)

we're fools to make war by whimsicule @baroness-elsa

In a Walmart at three am, between beef jerky and tortilla chips, with the lights flickering above them like it’s the fucking twilight zone, Bradley wants him more than he’s ever wanted anyone. or: it's a hundred degrees in texas.

This is so Jake and Bradley I’m blown away by how right they feel. Seriously. I didn’t even notice this was 66k words. The vibes, the writing, Jake’s family. Oh hell. Definitely check out the author’s other works too! They’ve got a lot of other Hangster long fics:)

cinnamon and sugar by bottledyarn

Jake was slumped in the doorway, propped up against the wall beside the door. He was a strange, pale, near-gray against the dark backdrop of his apartment, and he looked—well… “You look like shit," Bradley said. – Bradley draws the short straw and has to take care of Jake when he's sick with a stomach flu. Jake doesn't want to be taken care of.

Sigh. Jake and Bradley, man. They’re the ship that you can shove as much angst as you want and it’ll fit right in with their dynamic. They’re just so stubborn!!!! The push and pull between them is magnetic, man. I think I get why people love them.

habits by rararatatouille

Jake and Bradley come together in a series of jagged stops and starts. They fall apart in the exact same way. In which habits are hard to break, even for the people we love most.

Mannnnn. Goddamnit. I think this fic converted me to like Hangster. I think this has become canon in my brain too. I can’t even. Just read it. Words aren’t enough to describe this fic.

Days Like This by chase_acow @cowsalot

Jake's in Hawaii to lose himself after getting the Navy's first air-to-air kill in decades. Instead he finds a ramshackle diner, a cast of odd characters, and possibly the love of his life. Bradley goes to the Hard Deck to order waffles. He orders waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck to get some waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck, and who is this hot asshole acting like they know each other?

So good. A 50 First Dates AU. Jake just loves Bradley so much, man. And Bradley finally showing up in the end. Love really will make you walk miles across Earth for your special person<3

OTHERS

Other pairings, romantic and not.

Mr. Blue Sky by omnidirectional

Tragedy first brings Iceman into Bradley’s life, but he quickly becomes the steadiest presence of the boy’s childhood… until a betrayal tears their small family apart. After years of silence, can Bradley find the words to make up for lost time? Five times Ice sings to Bradley, and the one time Bradley sings to Ice.

Another one from omnidirectional. Ice and Bradley’s father and son relationship… Here’s one of the tags: Who Wants To Cry Today? If you’re up for emotional damage, click the link🫵

On Mighty Wings by PurpleArrowzandLeather @purplearrowzandleather-blog

Maverick raised geese over the years while Bradley was gone. Bradley does not know this until the flock comes home for the summer.

Short and sweet. Legend author as well. Love the geese preening Mav and Bradley sobbing while surrounded by honks. This is just too damn cute!!

Neglected by proprioception @mnstrfkr

"Do I look God-fearing to you, ma'am?" Maverick asked with a grin. "You most certainly do not," Carole said. "That's why I didn't marry you." "That and the mustache," Goose added.

Can’t forget about this GooseMavCarole fic of course! Hot and heartwarming. Absolutely amazing smut. This one sparked my brain to make a fanart of my favorite polycule. Their dynamic is just so fun!

Yearling by Fopperies , pohjanneito @pilvimarja

Alone in a cabin in the snowy mountains, Maverick is supposed to help Bradley on the path to presenting as an alpha soon. Bradley's body has other ideas.

Just gonna put this here… A different take on ABO’s biology, which I absolutely love. It’s so hot… Bradley, I feel you, honey…

Seeing a Trailer by daenabenjen42

In the aftermath of the Layton rescue, Merlin has questions.

Sighs for the millionth time. It’s so good. Again, I love the portrayal of Mav’s PTSD and grief here. And it’s not just him, but daenabenjen42 wrote about the other boys’ trauma too. I love it so much I must’ve reread this one about fifty million times.

in between what's already done by crawsley

“We aren’t doing this,” Maverick says, firmly, and he’s tensing like he’s about to move, about to shove Rooster off of him, push him away like he pushed him away before, when all Rooster had wanted was some guidance, some help, some love and kindness and— Rooster bears him to the ground, right there on the rug in the entryway.

This is legitimately one of the first, if not the first fic I’ve read from RoosMav. I still remember clearly going home from watching TG:M in the cinema and KNOWING that there were definitely going to be people who ship Mav and Roo. I rushed to AO3 straight away:D Imagine my delight when finding this one!

shake my nerves and rattle my brain by BogBeast

This wasn’t supposed to be intimate. This was about punishment, humiliation, stubbornness and spite. Not this gentle crap that made him sigh, the hand in his hair making his stomach swoop with every tug, the heavy scent making his head feel foggy, the praises making his heart skip a beat. That shit is just weird. The horrifying realization that he’s hard in his flight suit has nothing to do with it. - Mav's gotten them into a lot of weird situations, but giving blowjobs to their rivals because of a stupid bet has to be the weirdest one.

Icemav AND Sloose? SIGN ME UP, BABY!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That’s all of it! This is my list for now. Thank you all for reading through to the end! Let me know if you enjoyed any of these fics so we can gush about them together:) I hope you enjoyed my yapping:}

My works have always and will continue to take inspiration from others. So thank you for creating stories as beautiful and profound as these, dear beloved authors<3

If you want to see my bookmark collection of all of these fics, click here >> TOPGUN (Best of the Best) While you’re there, how about you read some of my fics too?>:) EliasHirsch

(PS!!! There will be a 4th part because there are definitely more good fics that people need to know about:))

#tag the authors if you know their tumblr!#and tell me if i wrongly tagged the wrong person or input the wrong link:')#icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x maverick #top gun #top gun maverick #hangster #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fic recs #fanfic rec #fanfiction rec list #fanfiction recommendation

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13pxrkhxoe13 · 1 month

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Pleasure Me | Jk

✽ Pairing: Aaron Warner!Jungkook x Fem!Juliette Ferrars!Y/n (Shatter Me series (Book Series) AU)

✽ Synopsis: After 2 months of being in ‘Love’ with Jimin, Y/n had finally realized that she isn’t, and wasn’t, in fact ever in love with him after all. It was always Jungkook. Now, in her current situation after being presumed dead by Jungkook's father, and staying with Jungkook until they both come up with an idea to kill his father, things get a little… freaky…

✽ Warnings/Genre: Sexual content and themes, 18+ (but if younger, you are reading at your own risk), slight cursing, unprotected sex, no prep, Jk Dom, and… that’s mainly all I can think of-

✽ A/n: This oneshot is based on & inspired by the Shatter Me series by Tahereh Mafi—to which I am currently obsessed with the series!~ This is my first fanfiction that I will post on tumblr, so thank you for reading and don’t feel shy to request something for me to write! I love suggestions~ Sorry for any grammar mistakes, btw! Also, please do not copy this piece of work and use it as if you wrote it with your own blood, sweat, and tears—but reblogging is allowed!

I am just now realizing the fate that had been before me all along.

With Jungkook on top of me and his breath fanning over my lips and his hands all over me, I felt like my days in the asylum weren’t even enough to prepare me for this kind of shock. Or even the amount of butterflies that swam in my stomach everytime he called me, “Jagiya.”

Things were different when I was with Jungkook.

I didn’t have to hide my secrets and pretend I was ok, he just knew.

His gift was remarkable—maybe even more than his love for me… but that would never be humanly possible as long as he lived.

“Y/n…” His deep voice whispered above me, my body trembling with need and teenage hormones at the very word of my name being called.

I just couldn’t respond, and he seemed to understand that.

He leaned in ever so slightly just so our noses were rubbing against each other, and I could feel my core ache with need at the small movement of affection.

“Do you want this… Are you sure?” He questioned again, his voice softer this time as I felt his hands stop once they gripped my hips so tight I could feel his short nails even from the fabric of my pants.

I nodded my head once, twice, and settled on the third one.

“As flattered as I am by your shyness, Jagi, but I’ll need words.” Jungkook chuckled under his breath, his middle body moving slightly as he readjusted himself above me.

I felt red take over my face and heat up my neck, “I-I want this, Jungkook. I need this.”

His adam's apple moved under my touch when I let my hands touch his face, moving down from his cheek to his jaw and father and farther, until he caught my hand with his own—right before I could make it to the waistband of his pants too.

He groaned and I slightly smiled when he met my eyes. Oh, his brown eyes. So vibrant and full of life.

“God, I love you.” And just like that he leaned in to close the distance between us, his lips touching mine like it was our first kiss all over again.

His soft pillow lips melted against mine, his hands traveling under the silk of my shirt as they teased my skin with soft touches, to which he was barely even touching me—giving me goosebumps.

It was soft at first before he bit my bottom lip with his teeth, ever so slightly, to which I became breathless instantly and opened my mouth for a breath, only for his tongue to be plunged into my mouth.

The open mouth kisses were rough and intense as his hands became more eager and found their way to my back before unclipping my bra, even though my shirt wasn’t off yet.

I let my hands run over the scars on his back, being gentle even if he still had his shirt on, as well.

He broke the kiss, letting both of us breath before kissing my chin and right under my jaw, settling at my neck.

I let my head fall back against the pillow behind me as his hands now cupped my breasts, under my bra and shirt, making me let out shaky noises of whines.

His middle and pointer finger found joy in fiddling with my nipple, occasionally flicking at the bud as well. He sat up, taking his hands back as he took off his sweater, throwing it over his head and somewhere over the room before trying to take mine off in a rush.

And even though I had seen his bare form before he was still breathtakingly beautiful as ever, and I felt myself falling harder for him by the second, my cunt begging for him as it throbbed for attention.

His hands achieved their goal in taking my shirt and bra off, not wasting a single moment before latching his mouth around one of my nipples, sucking like his life depended on it.

“Oah~” I moaned and I felt him smirk as my hands played through his hair, one of his hands found their way to my other nipple, making sure it wasn’t left out.

He stayed like that for a short while, switching back and forth between my buds and I was on cloud nine in pleasure, and we haven’t even gotten anywhere yet.

Soon though he began kissing down the length of my stomach, stopping at the start of my pants as he looked up at me for permission to which I nodded desperately as I watched his teeth grab ahold' of the cloth before tugging it down, all the way down to my feet before he stood up and took his own pants off.

I could see the outline of his bulge and I was desperate to pleasure him as he was me, but when I leaned up to palm him he shook his head and pecked my lips before saying, “No, Jagiya… I just want to be inside of you… We can experiment with things like that in the future.”

I swear my heart did flip after flip when he said that, making me know that we would find ourselves like this again, and I loved every thought of it.

He pulled my underwear off first, before taking his own off, and I watched as he groaned at the release from the uncomfortable cage his cock was in, to which it was now free.

I could feel myself clench around nothing but oxygen as I watched him stroke himself a few times, looking at my lower half.

“Fuck, Jagi, I knew you were beautiful but damn…” He hissed, crawling back over me, not letting me respond as he kissed me again, “This is your first time, right?” He whispers, between kisses, and I could feel him poke my lower abdomen.

I blushed again, embarrassed by the fact for some reason, but it was true nevertheless. I could never touch anyone before I met him and Jimin. So, I shook my head and he smiled before replying to my movement, “I’ll be gentle, it’s my first time too. I didn’t have any girls like you before you came here…” He grunted as he grabbed his cock in hand and rubbed himself on my folds, “I wanted no one but you… ever since I first saw you.”

I moaned again, louder this time and he smirked down at me as he watched my parted lips, before he took one inhale before slipping the tip of his dick into me, stretching out the beginning of my virgin hole.

And it felt good.

He groaned and his hands found their way to my waist and stayed there, keeping his head bent as he stared at the scene happening between both of our bodies.

“Shit, never knew this was how pussy felt.” He cursed, grinning up at me and I tapped his back, letting him know that I needed more of him inside of me.

“Same… I never knew dick felt this good… I can feel every vein on you.” I whined and spoke before he slowly moved his hips forward so that I took a little more of him in.

“Every vein?” He chuckled, “Some humor.” He pushed in more, making me quietly close my eyes as I got used to the burning sensation.

“I-I’m not joking, Jeon.” I barked back, playfully but also impressed at myself.

I never knew sex felt this good.

“What?” He lifted his head up and I could see the sweat already forming on his head, “I never knew that about girls…”

I furrowed my eyebrows as he smiled inside of me for a while, “Firstly, you knew nothing about women before I got here,” He pouted, “And secondly, this shit feel so good, so I need more.” I teasingly moved my hands to grasp his bum and move more of him in and he blushed but also smirked.

“Anything you want, Jagiya.” He purred and when he was buried inside of me all the way to the brim I moaned, feeling him fill me up so good made me want to cry as he hit every nerve with his long dick—not like I could talk since I have only ever saw his dick-

“T-tell me when to move…” He stuttered, his jaw clenching and his teeth grinding.

“M-m—” I didn’t even get the chance to finish before he pulled out and moved back in, his dick slipping in and out with ease from my juices.

“Ahhh~ Jungkook!” I called out, my lungs burning with the need to let noises out as he started a steady pace, moving in and out.

In, still, out.

He groaned, his hands gripping my ass and lifting my lower half of the bed slightly as he kept his eyes on him moving inside of me and went slowly, making it painful for me to hold back desire.

“Faster!!” I whined and he smirked, licking his lips before lifting my legs up by holding under my knee ever so slightly until he could ram into me.

He sure did go faster, and I mean faster.

I could feel the pit of desire in my stomach begin to build as my pussy heated up even more as he hit every nerve in me.

“Shit—So tight, so much better than my hand.” He lifted his up, throwing it back as he breathed with each thrust, as my hand grabbed onto his thighs either side of me.

He went slow and then faster, making me let out noises of pleasure more frequently, him groaning and trembling in response. I was getting closer and I let my fingernails claw his thighs slightly as I screamed,

“C-Cumming soon, Jeon!”

“Right behind you, Jagiya…” He trailed off and plunged his long dick into me faster and faster until I felt my stomach clench, making my cunt clench before I felt my release.

“JEON~!” I called out, arching my back off the bed as I came, with him still ramming into me making my walls clench from overstimulation.

“Shit—shit, shit!” He cursed his hips stuttering, “So t-tight! Y-Your clenching—Shit!” He moaned and whined as he builded himself up using my cunt, making my mouth wet and my eyes roll back slightly as I felt him pull out quickly.

I looked down and saw him stroking himself over my stomach, and just as I was about to help him he came all over my breasts, his white serum making me look like a canvas.

“Jagiya…” He whispered, stroking his cock a few more times until he started going soft again, to which he placed himself on the bed beside me, our sweat filled bodies colliding non-sexually now.

“I love you, too.” I called for the first time, making him look at me with surprise and joy, his eyes lightening up.

“If I knew sex was all it took for you to say that I would have done this a long, long time ago.” He chuckled, pecking my forehead.

“Hey! I know you love birds just did the naughty, but no more! My lonely ass is tired and it smells like… y’know what, and we have a war to get to tomorrow!!!” - Taehyung (Kenji in this case) yells as he knocks on the door, somehow in Jungkooks living quarters. 🤣🤣🤣

THANK YOU FOR READING!!!~~~~

#bts au fic #bts au #bts au fanfic #jeon jungkook #shatter me series #aaron warner #juliette ferrars #bts smut #jungkook smut #Jimin mentioned #y/n #jjk x reader

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