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moon-rivr · 8 months

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la apuesta

pairing: college!miguel x fem reader

warnings: miguel being a bit of an ass, face-sitting, oral (i probably forgot smth 🧍🏻)

author’s note: thank you for all the support for friends with benefits 🥹 anyways i got this idea from c.ai miguel using me as a bet LMAOO (he was supposed to be my roommate only 😖)

word count: 3037

You were the bane of his existence. He hated everything about you, from the way you smiled at everybody but him, to the way that you carried yourself, with kindness and respect even if it wasn't reciprocated. He hated the determination you had towards beating him at everything academically, putting in late hours at the library and studying for tests weeks in advance. What he really hated the most about you, though, was the way he could never find himself to truly hate you.

Which is how he found himself agreeing to a stupid bet that Peter B. Parker had brought up mid smoke sesh. Miguel had spent the last thirty minutes ranting about how you annoyed him today, about your test score and how he was so sure you cheated, and mostly about how you faked being nice with everybody when Peter interrupted him with the proposition. "What if we made a bet?" he started off, getting Miguel's attention as he passed him the blunt. "Let's say you can make her fall in love with you in two months for a hundred bucks," Peter added when Miguel took a hit from the blunt, a cocky smirk on his face. "Let's do a month for two hundred, yeah?"

The next Monday, Miguel found his gaze going to you during biology, the wheels in his head turning to figure out how to win you over. Would you like flowers? Grand gestures? Just the thought was starting to make his head hurt. He decided to start off slow, choosing to sit next to you before the class started. "Good morning," he offered with a small wave, which you returned with a smile on your face. He spent the class period looking at you through his peripheral, handing you a pen when he saw you digging your bag and giving you his notes when the professor moved through the slides too quickly.

"Go to lunch with me," he said after the class ended, watching your eyes flicker with surprise, a bit surprised himself by the offer. He wasn't one to go on casual lunch dates or even pursue someone, people usually pursued him and he didn't do much to find someone to sleep with him. "Well my daily ramen budget thanks you," you replied with a small chuckle, walking next to him after the class ended to the cafeteria. He found himself willingly laughing at your remarks, asking more questions about you, before reminding himself that this was all part of the bet. he refused to be a cliché and be the idiot to fall in love.

"Pickles and mustard? We might have to end this lunch date right now," you remarked, watching as he now added hot sauce to the mixture. It was odd, having lunch with Miguel O'Hara since you were pretty certain he hated you and he only had lunch with his close friends, but you still enjoyed his company and hearing his point of view of how he saw the world. "Oh c'mon, you can't say anything until you try it out," he protested you, handing you a pickle slice, the look on his face practically daring you to eat it. You took a tentative bite, your face morphing into a grimace as you spat it out, taking a sip from your water bottle. You looked up to see Miguel fighting back a laugh, tossing the pickles to the side as he looked over at you. "I can't believe you actually thought I eat that," he remarked with a smirk on his face, laughing as you hit his arm playfully.

The next week had been spent like that day, from trying out new food combinations, exchanging class notes, to spending time in his dorm room and studying. He had taken a break from studying, looking over at you reading the biology textbook and biting down on the pen in your hand, the small action emphasizing how pretty your lips were. He pushed a strand of hair away from your face, an easy smile on his face as you looked up at him. "It's such a shame that the test won't be covering me," you teased, seeing his closed textbook on the floor. "Such a shame indeed, I'm sure I'd be getting top grades," he replied with a smirk of his own, his fingers trailing the back of your neck. He watched you for a little bit, taking in how pretty you looked when you were concentrated and how much he seemed to enjoy your company without giving much thought to the bet. "Go on a date with me," he blurted out after a couple minutes of silence, watching you carefully for your reaction.

He found himself Googling best date ideas and even going as to making a Pinterest board full of things he deemed would be fun for both of you. He ended up going with a classic picnic date, buying sandwich making materials and a small Lego set. He arrived at your dorm room a couple hours after he confirmed you were free, fighting back a smile as he saw you open the door. You were wearing a yellow sundress that complimented your curves perfectly, pairing it with white flats. He stumbled over his words as he took you in, spitting out something that resembled, "Te ves hermosa." Your laughter was like a soft melody that reverberated through his ears, unable to keep his gaze off you. You closed your dorm door, walking next to him to his car. (you look beautiful)

He stopped in front of City Hall Park, claiming that it was underrated by Central Park's attraction. He set down a checkered blanket on the grass, sitting down as he took out the contents of the basket. You two fell into easy conversation, talking about your friends, school assignments, and just personal details. You two started to make your sandwiches as you took sips of the cheap wine he'd picked up, your past suspicions about his intentions dissipating with every passing moment. He pulled out the Lego set, a Star Wars battle ship, and felt himself grow even more comfortable in your presence when he discovered that you were also a fan.

The date had ended with Miguel dropping you off at your dorm room, his hands wrapped around your waist as he tried to prolong your leaving. You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips as you pushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. He leaned down, his hands practically moving you closer as his lips gently brushed yours. "Is this okay?" he murmured, his hands gently brushing the back of your neck before you leaned in, your lips enveloping his. The kiss started off tentative and gentle but soon, your hands were wrapped around Miguel's neck as you pulled him closer to you and your lips moved in tandem with his, the taste of him and the wine dizzying. Both of you pulled away a couple seconds later, just taking a moment to take in the moment before he kissed your forehead. "Buenas noches." (good night)

Most of the month had passed by with you two continuing to go on dates, making out in his room, and studying for your biology tests together. The fair had come to town recently and Miguel had gotten you two tickets for today after some relentless begging from your part. He took out the two tickets after he picked you up from your last class, a small grin on his face as he saw the way your eyes sparkled from excitement. "I'll pick you up at eight, chula," he said, leaving you at your dorm as he gave you a kiss on the cheek before walking away. (pretty)

Your jaw dropped when you opened the door, seeing Miguel ditch his usual hoodie and sweatpants apparel for a button down tee with some jeans. He gave you a lopsided smile, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he smelled the crook of your neck. "What if we ditch the fair and stay home?" he murmured, his lips ghosting over your neck before he kissed it. "Very funny, but I did not spend two hours looking at youtube makeup tutorials to stay home," you said, laughing a bit before walking off to your closet to finish getting dressed. You and Miguel had changed in front of each other, made out, and cuddled but you never had sex together. Partly because you were a virgin and you were worried he'd be turned off by your lack of experience given his past and another part being to just general fear of how big he was, how much it would hurt.

You and Miguel walk into the carnival a couple minutes later, looking around at some of the rides before your eyes settled on a My Melody plushie by the ball toss. You ran over, blindsighted by how cute it was and paid the attendant before tossing the balls at the bottles. Miguel walked over, his arms folded as he watched you, the look of determination on your face to get the stupid plushie. He couldn't help but feel bad as he saw the small pout on your lips when you'd missed one of the bottles, deciding to try it out for himself.

"Thank you!" your face practically lit up as he handed you the plushie, a smile forming on his face as he looked at you. He would be willing to do a hundred more of those ball tosses if it meant he got to see you smile like that again. He wrapped his arm around your neck, guiding you towards some rides he'd thought you'd enjoy. He took in every single one of your expressions, basking in how excited you seemed to be even with the most boring rides.

The last ride of the evening had been the ferris wheel, he realized it was a little corny, but he wanted a couple minutes just to have you to himself. He found himself looking at you rather than the view of the city, grabbing your chin so you'd look at him and he dipped his head down, meeting you in a kiss. "Te amo, hermosa," he whispered, his lips moving towards your earlobe as he nibbled slightly. You took a minute to let the words process, and even though you had never really experienced what being in love was like, you found yourself coming to the realization that you were in love with Miguel O'Hara. "I love you," you said, your hand on his cheek as you looked at him before meeting him for another kiss.

You and Miguel had ended up at his dorm after the carnival ended, tongues and mouths clashing as he pinned you against the wall. He took off his shirt and you finally snapped back to it, looking up at him nervously. "Miguel. I'm a virgin," you said, breaking the silence in the room and you saw his eyes flicker into something.. darker. "We don't have to anything you don't want to, chula," he assured you, taking in note of your reaction as he rested his hand on your waist. You took a moment to think about this, really think about this, before looking up at him with a ghost of a smile on your lips. "Can we just try oral for tonight?" you asked, rubbing the back of your neck.

He swore he could've came right then and there with the way you asked him, nodding mindlessly as he went to his bed. He cleared some of his biology books off it, laying down as he looked over you at you. "Sit on my face, princesa," he said, nonchalantly, as he saw the redness start to creep up on your cheeks. You started taking your clothes off, looking at him from the edge of the bed as you nibbled down on your bottom lip. "Are you sure I won't crush your face?" You asked, letting out a little yelp as Miguel pulled you onto the bed. You rested on his lap, his hands settled on your hips as he looked up at you. "You won't hurt me," he reassured you, drawing small circles on your thighs with his fingers.

You slightly hovered above his face as he began to lick a stripe down your pussy, letting out a muffled moan as his hands pressed down on your thighs. “I thought I told you to sit on my face, not hover,” he said, slapping your ass before he pushed your hips down. You fell down to his expecting face, your hands immediately gripping the headboard as you felt his tongue plunge into you. His hands grip on your thighs as he continued to lick and suck on your pussy, your juices coating his lips in the most delicious way possible. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on the strands gently and he let out a moan, the vibrations making you grind against his face.

He encouraged you to grind on his face, moving your hips against his face as his tongue continued to lick in your pussy, plunging in the most delicious angle possible. He replaced his tongue with his fingers, scissoring them to work his way in as his mouth closed around your engorged clit. His tongue ran small circles around your clit, his fingers working in tandem as he curled them, hitting that spot inside of you. You moved your hips against his fingers, moaning out incoherent strings of his name as you felt something building up in your lower stomach. "Miguel, I feel like I have to pee," you moaned out, but he continued with his ministrations, only intensifying them after you said that. Your back arched as you released into his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips and the side of his mouth. "Que deliciosa," he said with a small chuckle, getting you off of him. (how delicious)

You looked down at the obvious bulge in his pants, seeing his almost pained expression and he was about to reassure you that you didn't need to return anything, but you got down on your knees rendering him speechless. You slid off his boxers, picking up some of the precum with your finger and licking it off. "Tell me if you want me to something different, okay?" You told him before you brought your mouth closer to his reddening tip. You started off sucking it slowly, his hands making their way to your hair while one of your hands started to pump his length. You took more of him in your mouth, getting adjusted to how big he was before you started to bob your head. He let out soft moans and whispers of your name as you continued, feeling in complete bliss as you did so. You looked up at him, your doe eyes almost making him come right then and there as his hand worked on guiding your head, never forcing you.

He felt himself coming closer to that edge as you licked on a vein, feeling goosebumps forming on his skin. You took all of his cock in your mouth, feeling your eyes water as you adjusted to having him in so deep. You looked up at him and he let out a raggedy moan as he came in your mouth, maintaining eye contact with you. He helped you get up from the floor, dipping his head down to meet you for a kiss.

He cleaned in between your thighs with a warm washcloth, cleaning himself off as well before walking over to his dresser. He took out a shirt, handing it to you with a small smile. "Stay the night," he offered, looking at you expectantly. You nodded, taking the shirt from him and putting it on, the material falling over you like a dress. You both laid down on his bed, your breathing in tandem as you laid on his chest. "You're not pissed off we didn't have sex right?" You asked out of the blue, not wanting this thing you had going on with Miguel to end. He let out a small laugh, his hand stroking your hair as he answered, "Claro que no, mi amor. Even if it's not with me, don't let anyone pressure you into something you're not ready for." You couldn't help but feel your heart melt a bit as he spoke, your legs tangling with his. "When I do feel ready.. I'd like for it to be with you," you whispered, kissing his cheek. (of course not)

Peter had seen the events at the fair, shocked to say the least, at how obvious Miguel was being with his feelings towards you. He decided to give Miguel a wake up call tomorrow, remind him that this was all part of the deal, that he wasn't meant to be going out and falling in love with you. He knew how it ended with his last girlfriend, Xina, and how detached he had been from everything, a shell of his former self.

You walked over to Miguel's dorm, about to knock on the door when you heard him talking with Peter about something. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, obviously, but you were also curious to know what his friend's opinion was about you. "Dude, don't lose track of what we're doing here. you're not supposed to actually fall in love with her," you heard Peter say, your eyes widening a bit as Miguel let out a chuckle. "As if I could actually fall in love with her. she's nothing but just another bet, man."

The words rung through your ears, but you blinked back the tears that were threatening to come out as you forced yourself to knock on Miguel's door. you saw the surprise flash across his face for a split second, exchanging a look with Peter before looking back at you stoically. You wanted to cry, you wanted to beat yourself up for being so stupid and falling for his charms the same you'd reprimanded your friends, but you swallowed that all back and simply said,

"I left my biology textbook in here."

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thesassypadawan · 26 days

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Like Rabbits (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: After realizing that Hay and you share the same desire, you two have been acting like a pair of horny rabbits. ‘Hopping’ all day and night long.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Breeding and, as always…Hayden’s big dick.

Notes: Hoppy Belated Easter, my lovelies! And Happy First Day of Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all of April!

- Thirty-two hours. Thirty-two hours of nearly non-stop raw passion, of carnal desire. All in the hopes of…successfully knocking you up.

- After the whole ‘milk someday’ affair, as it came to be known, Hayden and you have a nice long chat. One that makes you both quickly realize that you’re clearly on the same page.

- And, well, since that’s the case, you two have been, um, rather busy. Especially during those magical thirty-two hours when you’re at the peak of your fertility.

- Yeah, let’s just say you’re like a pair of horny rabbits. ‘Hopping’ all day and night long…

- Eyes flutter open and a soft moan escapes you. You’re awoken by his cock pumping slowly into you, fingers playing and teasing your clit. “Haay…sleepy.”

- “Nope, rise and shine, angel. Nap’s over; it’s baby making time,” he chuckles in your ear. Free hand slides to grasp your ass firmly. Pulling your hip over him, so he can thrust deeper.

- You whine a little in protest, but, nonetheless, happily accept your fate. Hand moving up his throat, coming to rest on the back of his head. Fingers tugging his hair gently, causing him to growl…the sound rumbling in his chest.

- Cunt clenches hard in response, which only spurs him on. Pace picking up, dick practically bottoming out with each plunge. “Fuck. How are you still this tight?”

- Whimpering, your face grows flush. Orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, overwhelming your brain. “Hay… Hay…”

- “Cum,” he mutters. Pinching your clit, sending you soaring. Head tilting upwards, crying out. Chest pressing against his while you clamp down around him.

- Hayden stills, gripping you as your body goes limp in his hold. Face burying into his neck, the fog in your mind rolling in. All you can think of is… “Sleepy.”

- A good smack to the butt jolts you back to reality. “Not yet, babe; we’re not finished.”

- Grasping your sides, he pulls you fully on top of him. Knees instinctively parting, setting on either side of his thighs. Upper body laying flat on his, you let out a small squeak. “Haaayden!”

- Arms wrap around your waist, and he starts to move again. Almost rapidly, eagerly pounding into your soaked cunt. Hips bouncing off his while he smirks. “What? I haven’t given you more of my baby batter yet.”

- Fingers dig into his shoulder; whines fly from your mouth. He’s stretching you out so deliciously, slapping against you so wonderfully. Both sensations overstimulate you further, another release quickly building in your core.

- His grip on you tightens. Rocking back and forth, he bucks up into you wildly. Grunting, voice low and gravelly. “Going to pump you so full…to the absolute brim. Going to stay in this perfect, little pussy…all through the night and into the morning.”

- Walls flutter at his words. Whines now more high-pitched and needy. Clawing and scratching at him desperately. “Yes… Please…”

- “You’d like that, huh?” Hay growls, slamming into that sweet spot deep inside over and over. “Me cumming in you until it takes…until you have your own cute bump to show off.”

- Nails sink deeper into his skin and his hips stutter. Hands grabbing your ass harshly, holding you firmly in place. Cock twitching, shooting rope after rope of hot cum into you.

- While you mewl and pant. Quivering and trembling, back arching in ecstasy. Milking him greedily for every last drop…before collapsing.

- Stroking your back, his heart racing underneath you. He kisses the top of your head, muttering. “You okay, angel?”

- Spent, your body is so spent. Totally exhausted from cumming back-to-back, not counting all the times prior to this lovely session. “Sleepy…so sleepy,” you mumble into his chest.

- Eyes grow heavy and just as you’re drifting off…you feel him start to lazily thrust. “Come one, we only have like twelve hours left until you’re done ovulating. Don’t want to waste a single minute, do you?”

- You hate it when he’s right. Groaning and grumbling, your hips begin to move in sync with him. “Better make it twins then.”

- “Can’t guarantee that,” Hayden chuckles, speeding up a bit. “But I promise to have you round…those tits milky and swollen soon enough. My adorable baby mama.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16

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roosterforme · 1 year

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Hello, I Love You | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Phoenix signs Bradley up for speed dating on Valentine's Day, he is skeptical. But after he meets the woman of his dreams, he's not afraid to admit his best friend was right.

Warnings: Pure fluff, adult banter, some cursing

Length: 2300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for my Love Is In The Air playlist challenge! Thanks for reading! And please check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun.

Bradley strolled into the Hard Deck, got a beer from Jimmy, and then made his way to the pool table to join his friends.

"What's up?" he asked Phoenix when she eyed him a little nervously.

"Now, don't get mad, okay?" She set her pool cue down and patted his shoulder.

"What did you do?" Bradley asked, frozen with his beer halfway to his lips.

Phoenix smoothed out his Hawaiian shirt across his chest and shoulders, and then she took his chin in her hand and turned his face from side to side. "Yeah, okay, should be fine," she muttered, examining his appearance.

"Nat, seriously, what did you do?"

"Well.... I signed you up for speed dating," she informed him, wincing before he even responded.

"No," he said, adamantly shaking his head. "Nope." Bradley sipped his beer and turned to grab some darts.

"And it starts in thirty minutes," Phoenix added, her eyes going wide as Bradley glared at her.

"Natasha, I'm not going."

"But you're lonely! And it's Valentine's Day! You need a girl!"

Bradley scoffed. "I'm not lonely. I'm... picky."

"Too picky, Rooster. Just go to the speed dating thing, please? I already spent twenty bucks to sign you up," she pleaded. "It comes with a free drink!"

Bradley chuckled. "You think I'll find a girl there? You're insane, Nat. It's going to be the weirdest assortment of people under the San Diego sun. Crazy people who collect cats and probably a bunch of basement dwellers."

But as he watched his friend's face fall, he felt a little guilty. "I just thought you might have fun, you know, putting yourself out there. It's been a year since you dated anyone," she said softly.

Bradley took a sip of his beer and ran his hand over his face. "Fine. I'll go, but only to prove to you that I'm right and you're wrong."

He watched her jump up and down a few times and clap her hands. "Yes! It's at the Surfside Tavern, and if you leave now, you'll arrive just in time," she said, taking his beer from his hand and pushing him toward the door. "Text me later and let me know how it goes... unless you know, you're busy getting hot with a basement dweller."

Bradley just rolled his eyes and headed toward the Bronco.

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

"Let me get you signed in! What's your name?" asked a young man with Connor on his name tag. He was seated at a small table at the front of the bar, and now Bradley was getting a little nervous. There were a lot of people here tonight.

"Bradley Bradshaw," he replied, taking a name tag sticker from Connor.

"Just grab your drink at the bar and head on back to the area where the tables are set up. I'll get everyone started soon," said Connor with a smile.

Bradley took a deep breath, half tempted to bail, but then he thought it would be worthwhile to get his free drink since Nat stole his other one. He got a beer from the bartender and then turned toward the back of the room, where there were a bunch of guys were wearing suits.

"Shit," he muttered, glancing down at his own jeans and bright shirt.

When he looked up, he quickly braced himself as you accidentally bumped into him, the drink in your martini glass sloshing precariously close to the rim. "Sorry!" you gasped, looking up at him.

He steadied you, wrapping on big hand around your waist as you regained your balance. And Bradley instantly knew there was no chance he would be bailing early tonight.

"Thanks," you whispered, tapping your martini glass to his beer bottle with a grin.

You took a slow step away from him as Bradley whispered, "Damn." You looked like a real treat, with bright eyes and kind of a shy smile. And as you walked toward all of the guys in suits, you turned to smile back at him over your shoulder.

"Okay, let's get started!" Connor announced, pulling your attention away from Bradley and toward him. "Let's have the ladies each take a seat at one of the tables, and the guys will rotate around the room. You'll have five minutes to get to know each person, and then I'll tell you to switch. You can grab a notepad and a pencil if you want to keep track of names. Let's go!"

Bradley watched you take a seat and cross your legs, subtly glancing at him again. He was pulled toward your table like a magnet, barely able to control himself. But it looked like he wasn't the only one.

"Fucking suits," he groaned when another guy sat down across from you. Bradley doubled back and chose a table with someone else, practically tripping since he could barely look away.

"Hi! I'm Bridget!" said the bubbly woman now seated across from him.

"I'm Bradley," he replied with a smile, trying to discreetly count how many tables away you were sitting.

"Oh my God! We both have B names! That's insane!" Bridget gushed.

Bradley laughed nervously. "Both are BR names, actually," he muttered. Then he watched her scribble down his name with KEEPER next to it.

Oh shit. He had to endure five minutes of Bridget listing off potential names for their theoretical future children. Bruce, Brandy, Bryce, Brinley, Brooke and Brynn were apparently all viable options, and when Connor announced that five minutes was up, Bradley launched out of his seat.

He tried to hustle over to your table, but Connor was on him right away. "We're rotating in order. Remember?"

Bradley looked over to where you were sitting, shaking hands with your second "date". But you were looking at Bradley and smiling. It looked like you were trying not to laugh.

Bradley glared down at Connor, towering over him. "Come on, man. See that one over there? I wanna talk to her."

But Connor was not deterred, and rather showed Bradley to his next table with Angie. "What do you do for a living?" she asked, smiling at him across the table.

"I'm a Naval aviator," he replied, trying to get a peek of you talking with Mr. Suit.

"Oh," Angie replied, and her smile turned into a frown. "I'm in the Army." Bradley watched her jot down his name and write NO next to it. Then she took out her phone and started to play Candy Crush.

Once again, when it was time to switch tables, Bradley jumped up and rushed toward yours.

"Sir, we've been over this before," Connor called after him, but Bradley made his way to where you were sitting with a different guy who was wearing a full-blown tuxedo.

"Hi," Bradley said, reaching out to shake your hand. He checked your name tag this time; he just fucking knew you'd have a pretty name. And your hand was so small and soft, he held onto it for a moment.

You looked up at him, and an adorable giggle escaped your lips before you also said, "Hi."

"I just wanted to make sure you know I'm coming up in two more tables," he told you very seriously.

You nodded your head and pressed your lips together to try to stifle your smile. "Yeah, I noticed that when you tried to knock several people over a few minutes ago."

Bradley smiled at you, already loving your sense of humor.

"Don't write down anything flattering about him, okay?" Bradley nodded toward the guy in the tux who just scowled in response.

Your shoulders shook with silent laughter. "I'll see what I can do."

"Sir!" Connor scolded. "This is not your table!"

"Yes, Connor, I know," Bradley grumbled, heading over to sit with Michelle.

Michelle eyed him cautiously. "I take it you're only interested in her?" she asked, gesturing toward your table.

Bradley shrugged. "Sorry, Michelle."

She shrugged too. "That's okay. I really liked Simon. Want to hear about the novel I'm writing?"

Bradley was enthralled after five minutes of Michelle explaining the intricate plot of the detective thriller she was working on. "Damn it, Michelle. I need to know how it ends."

She smiled and jotted down his email address. "I'll put you on my mailing list."

Finally Bradley was seated at the table next to yours, just a few feet away from you. "Hi," he said again, and he could tell he must have the dumbest look on his face.

He watched your lips curl into the most radiant smile. "Hi, Bradley." God, he felt light headed as soon as you said his name.

"I'll be there soon," he promised, and you blushed a little bit as you turned toward another guy in a fucking suit.

Bradley turned toward Cara and asked, "Has every other guy been in a suit?"

She nodded. "One was in a tuxedo."

"Huh," he grunted, trying so hard not to focus on you while Cara asked him questions about himself.

"Bradley, where do you work?"

He shook his head, "No... I'm originally from Virginia."

"That's not what I asked."

But Bradley couldn't help it. You were sipping your martini and re-crossing your legs. And the guy you were with sounded boring as hell.

"Are you even listening to me?" Cara asked, breaking his concentration

"Oh, uh... sorry, no," he replied, smiling at you as you glanced at him.

"Rotate!" Connor called, and Bradley was practically shoving the suit guy out of his seat at your table.

"Finally," he muttered, smirking as he sat down. Your cheeks were a little flushed as you spun your martini glass on the table by the stem. When your gaze slid up his chest and neck and landed on his face, he asked you, "You've gotta tell me, what are you doing here? You could get a date just walking around Target in your pajamas."

You laughed and bit your lip, tipping your head back to look at the ceiling before meeting his eyes again. "I don't wear pajamas," you told him with a smirk of your own.

Bradley sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "I rest my case."

"What about you, Bradley? You're cute. I like your mustache. And thank God you're not wearing a suit. You could probably get a date just by shoving the previous guy out of his seat and asking me."

He nodded his head and tried not to smile. You were so fun. And you were quick on the draw. "We'll get there, babe. But actually... my best friend made me come tonight. She thinks I'm too picky when it comes to women."

"Oh yeah? Well, what do you like?" you asked, raising the glass to your lips again and taking another sip.

"So far, I like you. A lot."

Your cheeks were even more flushed now, and Bradley wanted to talk to you all night long.

"What do you look for in a guy?" he asked, leaning his forearms on the table to get a little closer to you.

You leaned a bit closer as well as you told him, "I need someone who can make me laugh. It doesn't hurt if he's handsome. And I think mustaches just moved to the top of my nonnegotiable list."

Bradley licked his lips. "And what's your ideal first date, babe? I'm planning on making it very memorable for you; already hoping for a second."

You laughed again. "Padres game. Complete with beer and ballpark nachos."

"Seriously, why are you here?"

You nibbled on your lip for a beat before you said, "My sister made me come. She said she's so tired of listening to me complain that there are no cute, funny, single guys with mustaches who aren't afraid to wear a green and yellow Hawaiian print shirt in public."

Bradley's entire body was humming. "There's nothing about you that would turn me off, is there?" he asked, and his voice was raspier now.

He watched you lick your lips and shake your head. "No. Unless you can't stand smart girls who like to be a little sassy when they aren't wearing any pajamas."

Bradley audibly groaned and you giggled.

"Rotate!" Connor called, and everyone was up and moving around.

"Fuck, no. I'm not moving, Connor!" Bradley called over his shoulder. Your eyes were glittering with amusement, and Bradley was going to leave this bar with you if it killed him.

Connor walked over and sighed. "You've already had five minutes together."

"That's not long enough. Have you seen her, Connor?" Bradley asked, nodding at you. "Fifty bucks if you tack on another five minutes, my man," Bradley promised him, making you crack up across the table.

Connor just muttered, "Before he wouldn't sit down, now he won't get up."

Bradley felt you take his hand in yours, and his eyes were immediately on your face. "Let's get out of here, Bradley," you suggested. "Go to another bar? Or go for a walk?"

"Absolutely," he replied, hopping up and pulling you to your feet.

You led him through the bar, smiling at him over your shoulder as you laced your fingers through his, and Bradley could already tell you were his perfect match.

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

Natasha was still shooting some pool with the guys when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out to read a text from Bradley.

Rooster Bradshaw: YOU WERE RIGHT.

"I knew it!" she shouted, jumping up and down again.

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

Thanks for reading! There are plenty of other love song themed Top Gun: Maverick stories available here!

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stevie-petey · 4 months

Text

episode one: MADMAX

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him. “I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual. It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Summary: what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, descriptions of PTSD (slightly), swearing, and general angst and exhaustion

Words: 5.2k

Before you swing in: hello ! welcome back to the rewrite, hope yall are well :) heres chapter 1 of season 2 !!! so so so excited and ready to dive into this new season. things get a bit darker, feelings get even MORE complicated, and poor reader just really needs to take a fat nap and maybe some reassuring words. shes more angsty this season, so buckle up

October 29th, 1984

You originally gave Dustin the phone number to Bookstrordinary in case of any emergencies.

Now, you’re really starting to regret it.

For the fifth time this week, Dustin calls you at work to beg for money. Him and the boys recently started going to an arcade that’s opened up in town and have spent practically every day after school there this year. Sure, you don’t mind loaning your brother a few quarters, but at the rate he’s going he’s gonna drain your next paycheck.

Just as you’re thinking this, the phone rings.

Right on cue.

Alex, your coworker, smirks. “How much do you think he’ll ask for this time?”

“If I’m lucky, only a dollar.”

“Will asked me for three tonight, so I wouldn’t jinx anything.”

You gape at Jonathan, who has started hanging around your job after school just to have something to do. “No fucking way.”

“Way,” he laughs, pointing towards the phone on the counter. “Answer before Dustin sends a drone our way.”

You sigh and pick up the phone, which is on its second round of calling, and put on your best customer service voice. “You’ve reached Bookstrordinary, may I ask who is calling?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.”

“Aw, I’m doing well tonight. Thanks for asking, Dustin.”

“I need five dollars.”

“Ya know, ‘please’ has such a nice ring to it.”

“... if I say please, will you give me the money?”

“No.”

Silence fills the other end. Alex and Jonathan are hunched together, trying to stifle their laughs. You send them a thumbs up, and they give you one back.

“You’re a horrible sister.”

“What!” You scoff at Dustin. “I think you owe me like, at least ten bucks now. Yet you don’t see me complaining.”

A loud groan, then an obnoxious scream. “I promise I’ll clean Mews’ litter box for a week straight if you just give me the money.”

“Tempting, and honestly I’d take you up on that offer, but I already spent my last paycheck on my Halloween costume. You’re outta luck.”

Dustin gasps. “You were gonna say no this whole time? You just wasted like, at least five minutes of my time! I could’ve been digging through the couch for coins by now!”

“Jesus,” you pull the phone away from your face as Dustin continues to shout. Jonathan lets out a loud cackle and Alex just shakes his head. “I can give you some money next week–”

The line cuts off. Dustin has hung up.

What a little shit.

“You remind me why I’m grateful I’m an only child.” Alex says, now walking from behind the counter to begin stacking some books. Technically your shift ended almost thirty minutes ago, but you and Jonathan prefer to hang around for a while. It’s rare to have some time with just the two of you (even if Alex is there as an unfortunate third wheel).

“Glad I can help.” You respond. Once he’s gone, you turn to Jonathan. “And you were right, Dustin indeed wanted more than Will’s measly three bucks.”

He laughs. “Figured as much. The look on your face was genuine disbelief when he asked.”

“Mhm, I’m scared these boys will turn into horrendous teens. The lack of gentlemen in Hawkins these days is astounding.”

“C’mon, I’d say I’m a gentleman. I mean, I’m riding on your bike pegs tonight to keep you safe.” Jonathan says, waving an arm in front of his body as if to present all his gentleman-ness to you.

“Sure, bee.” Although, he has a point. Joyce has the car tonight so she can drive Will to the arcade and Jonathan doesn’t like you biking home in the dark. After what happened last year, none of the Byers are particularly keen on letting their loved ones go off alone at night. So, to ensure your safety, Jonathan has started riding on your bike pegs all the way home.

It’s endearing really, wholly unnecessary, but endearing.

Jonathan flicks your nose. “Who else would be such a gentleman to you? Steve?”

Hearing Steve’s name sends a wave of varying emotions through you. Guilt, shame, remorse, longing. You miss him. You really, really miss him.

“I thought we agreed to stop talking about Steve.” You mumble, now busying yourself with a piece of paper on the counter.

After Will was found last year, you and Steve had gotten really close. He’d spend hours bugging you at work, he’d gotten you such a lovely Christmas gift that still hangs on your wall, and you’d grown close with him in a way you haven’t before with anyone else. He would’ve done anything for you, he cared about you with such genuineness, and you couldn’t handle it.

Summer came and the heat that came with it scared you.

You’d pushed Steve away, severed any connection you had to him. It was easier when you didn’t have to see him every day at school, but ever since junior year started, you’ve been in your own personal hell.

Steve walks past you in the halls without batting an eye. He doesn’t look your way, like the months you spent learning every inch of his wonderfully unique brain and the moles scattered along his face never happened; he doesn’t give you that smile that makes your knees weak. He’s avoided you like the fucking plague, which you can’t blame him for, but it’s only made things more awkward between him, Jonathan, Nancy, and you.

Jonathan sighs. “I’m sorry, bug. I just… he seemed good for you, ya know? I was actually starting to like the guy before you suddenly stopped hanging around him.”

You play with the piece of paper, hoping that if you don’t respond then Jonathan will just drop the subject, but a thought seems to cross his mind.

“Wait a minute. Steve didn’t like, hurt you or anything, right?” You don’t respond again and now he’s starting to get worried. “Y/N, I’m serious. Did he do something to you?”

The irony of the situation is so comical you want to laugh. Here Jonathan is, demanding to know if Steve hurt you and if that’s why you’ve stopped being his friend, when in reality it’d been Jonathan who hurt you. Jonathan, your oldest and dearest friend, is the reason you’re so fucking terrified of letting Steve in. Of falling in love with him.

You’re already in love with Jonathan, you can’t put yourself through any more hurt.

But fuck, you miss Steve. You’d come to rely on him and his obnoxious sense of humor that never failed to make you laugh. The way he so effortlessly filled the room with warmth.

“Relax, bee. He didn’t do anything. I just wanted to focus on Will and the boys more.” You lie through your teeth.

He gives you a funny look. “I know you care about the boys, but you know they’d want you to have some other friends.”

“I have you, that’s all I need.”

It’s all I can afford.

“Bug, I’m worried about you. You’ve all but thrown yourself into school, you work non stop here, and when you finally have some free time you’re spending it researching child psych for Will–”

“Just drop it, Jonathan!” You finally snap at your friend.

He stops, surprised by your outburst. He can see the angry flush in your cheeks now and the slight heavy breathing you do to try and calm yourself down. Jonathan drops his shoulders, defeated. He’s been worried about you ever since junior year started. You’re more withdrawn, you look like you haven’t slept at all, and now you don’t even feel comfortable telling him what’s been bothering you.

All Jonathan knows is that one day you were glowing while telling him a story about Steve and his stupid jokes, then the next day you looked frail and sickly as you told him that Steve was no longer visiting you at work.

Something happened between you two, he’s just not sure what or how to even help.

For once, Jonathan is at a loss.

–

“And then she chased Mike all the way down the street for her money! He got away!” Jonathan finishes his story with a grand flourish, laughing and hitting his steering wheel as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

You let out a weak laugh, exhausted from the night before. It’s early morning and you’re in the school parking lot, hanging in Jonathan’s car as always, and you feel like utter shit. You stayed up late last night reading this journal you’d found in the school library about acute trauma in children. It had been fascinating and there were some things you thought could apply to Will. Before you knew it, it had been three in the morning and you needed to be up soon for school.

Which leads you to now: slouched in the passenger seat, sunglasses over your eyes to block out the annoying sun, tiredly listening to Jonathan’s recounting of his phone call with Nancy from last night. Apparently they’ve progressed to nightly phone calls now.

Lovely.

Without meaning to, your eyes start to drift shut. The car is the perfect cozy kind of warm and the late October air wraps around you as if to lull you to sleep. Jonathan notices you’ve gone quiet and pokes your cheek.

“If you fell asleep I’ll tell your mom and she’ll put you back on house arrest.”

You slap his hand away. “Don’t do that, then she’ll just ban me from your house.”

“You were up all night researching again, weren’t you.”

“If you have to ask, then that’s probably your answer.”

“Y/N–”

You put a finger up, using your other hand to rub at your temples. A headache is forming and you’re three seconds away from just skipping first period to nap in the car. “We aren’t doing this again. Drop it.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “I’m your best friend, it’s my job to worry about you–”

“And it’s my job to tell you to fuck off whenever you’re getting on my nerves–”

Suddenly a loud blue camaro comes speeding into the school parking lot, effectively drowning out whatever you’d been saying to Jonathan. The car revs its engine and almost hits a few students as it jerks its tires and then screeches to a halt, parking right next to you guys.

You and Jonathan look at each other.

“What the fuck?” You look out your window and are greeted with the sight of an attractive blond guy staring at you. His music is blasting so loud you can hear it through Jonathan’s windows.

“Jonathan,” you whisper, getting his attention. “Am I really tired or is there a guy with a god awful mullet staring at me right now?”

“He’s real.”

“Cool.” You continue to stare at the guy, unsure what to do. You’ve never seen him before, there’s no way you’d forget a face like that in Hawkins. He’s attractive, almost unappealingly attractive, and there’s a coldness to his beauty that makes you uncomfortable. He looks dangerous, like he knows how much power his beauty brings him.

The boy winks at you, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, and then gets out of the car, slamming his door rather harshly. It’s then that you notice the redhead girl, much younger than him, possibly around Dustin’s age, getting out of the car as well. She slams her own door and doesn’t even spare the guy a glance as she drops her skateboard down and rides towards the middle school across the parking lot.

Meanwhile the boy saunters inside, a lazy pace in his step that also holds immense confidence. He’s cocky, cool and collected, and he takes one last look around, as if to survey his new claimed battleground. You notice a few of your classmates gazing at him with interest, which you don’t really understand. He’s hot, but his attitude alone tells you everything you need to know about him.

Once he’s gone, Jonathan finally speaks. “Who was that guy?”

“No clue,” your eyes linger on the doors he’s just walked through. There’s something off about him. “But I don’t think we want to know… C’mon, if we don’t head in now we’ll be late for our first class.”

–

During your lunch period everyone’s buzzing about some upcoming Halloween party. As you’re walking towards your locker with Jonathan, you notice a few pieces of orange paper being passed around. You don’t pay much attention to them, but when Nancy joins you two she eagerly takes a few from the girl passing them out.

Nancy playfully shoves the papers at you and Jonathan. “You guys are totally coming to this.”

“We are?” You ask, eyeing the flyer wearily. You have nothing against parties, but the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of drunk teenagers in horrible costumes is frankly terrifying to you.

“You sure are, Y/N.”

“But Nancy–”

“‘Come and get sheet faced’.” Jonathan reads aloud. “Yeah, Nance. I think we’ll pass.”

Nancy groans. “I can’t let you guys sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable.”

“Actually,” you correct her, annoyed by the assumption, “we have a tradition with the boys. We take them out every year to trick or treat and it’s always been fun. We won’t be ‘alone’.”

“No offense, Y/N, but spending Halloween with a bunch of middle schoolers isn’t much better.”

You make a face and look over at Jonathan for help, but he shrugs. “You gotta admit, it is kinda lame.”

“I can’t believe you’d betray me like this–”

Nancy smiles at this. “See? Plus, I doubt trick or treating with the boys will take all night. You’ll be home by 8:00, and Jonathan will be listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something, while you, my dear Y/N, will be baking a fresh batch of cookies and throwing away all the candy corn you find.”

“Sounds like a nice night.” Jonathan responds, and you nudge your shoulder with his. It does sound like a nice night, one you’re looking forward to.

“I forgive you for your earlier betrayal.”

“Guys!” Nancy stops at her locker now, slight frustration in her voice. “Just… Come on! I mean, who knows? You guys might meet someone and–”

Her words are cut off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted in the air and spun around, Steve having snuck up behind her. Nancy now puts all her attention on him, he has his arms wrapped low on her waist and he’s wearing sunglasses inside like some idiot, and your heart hurts. He looks good, too good.

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.

“I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.

It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Steve, as if sensing what you’re thinking, risks a look at you. Your eyes meet his and for a brief second no one else exists anymore. It’s just you and him in the small Hawkins high school hallway, where he’s yours again in a way that’s clouded with “almost” and “not enough”, and you want to tell him how lovely he is and how horrible you feel for hurting him, but then he diverts his gaze and focuses back on Nancy and you’re thrown back into reality.

He isn’t yours. Hell, he isn’t even your friend anymore, and you’re the one to blame.

Once Nancy and Steve start kissing, you share a disgusted look with Jonathan and silently agree to leave.

“Young love, huh?” Jonathan jokes bitterly when you’ve left them behind.

“I hate it.”

And you do.

You’re really starting to hate this whole “love” thing.

–

The only highlight so far this school year has been you and Will growing even closer. When Jonathan told you that Will started seeing the Hawkins Lab people for treatment and to see how he’s been recovering, you pulled Joyce aside later that night to ask if it’d be okay if you spoke with Will yourself. Since everything that happened last year, you’ve only become more interested in psychology, and you’d be lying if you said Will wasn’t an interesting case study.

You told Joyce that you’d been doing your own research, reading journals upon journals, and she made you a deal. You could help Will as long as you also took care of yourself, that you wouldn’t place an even heavier burden upon yourself. Of course you agreed, promising her you wouldn’t, and that’s how your weekly chats with Will began.

Jonathan had been against it at first, telling you that you didn’t have to worry about Will because you already do everything else for the kids. You told him you could handle it, and secretly you liked helping Will because you were able to pour all your anxiety and complex feelings for Steve into research and studying. It was a win-win in your eyes.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Waters had been extremely understanding when you asked for Wednesdays off. After all, you’d been working at Bookstrordinary for almost three years now, so she was quick to make the accommodation.

Now here you are, another Wednesday spent at the Byers’ home. You’re sitting with Will in his bed, the both of you quietly scribbling with his crayons. You’ve learned that he’s more receptive if you draw with him, if you take your time.

“How was Dr. Owens today?”

Will pauses mid-scribble. “Fine.”

“Just ‘fine’? Nothing else?” Your head is down so he doesn’t think you’re studying his reactions, but you keep an eye on him anyways.

“Yeah. I told him about my latest episode.”

“You had another one? Would you like to tell me when?”

Will thinks for a moment, and you tell him that he of course doesn’t have to say anything if he doesn’t want to.

“Last night. I was back in the Upside Down… and there was this… this thing.”

Now you stop drawing. “Like the monster we killed last year?”

“Different,” he shakes his head. “This thing was evil.”

Will’s eyes are darting everywhere around the room, and you can see his growing unease, so you decide to put the topic to rest for now. Clearly the episodes are getting worse, scaring him more, so you shift gears.

“Okay, I believe you. I’m sorry for the episodes, but besides them how have you been feeling? Is school getting any better?” Earlier this month Will had confessed to you about the kids in school calling him “zombie boy” and treating him like a freak. You did your best to comfort him, and once you finished your chat with the boy you’d gone to Joyce to let her know.

Will sighs. “School is… school.”

You reach out and move some hair out of Will’s face. “I’m sorry, little bee. Middle schoolers are idiots, they’ll never understand how much you went through. I mean, I had to face that monster for only about twenty minutes. You had to hide from it for days, so you’re honestly incredibly braver than me.”

This gets a smile out of Will, which you’re relieved by. He’s been quiet lately, more closed off, and you’re worried that with the one year anniversary coming up, his episodes will only get worse.

A knock on the door, and then Jonathan pokes his head in. “Hey, guys. Mind if I join?”

“Actually, I think I should go. Bob’s been begging me for my cookie recipe, so I’ll leave you two alone.” You send a look Will’s way, a you better talk to your brother about this look, and he weakly nods his head.

As you walk past Jonathan out the door, you lean in close to Jonathan and whisper, “he’s struggling at school. Be gentle, kids can be fucking awful.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, silently thanking you, and you close the door behind you. While you want to help Will, make sure he’s adapting well, you also recognize your limits. He’s not your brother, Jonathan is, and you know he’ll be more open with him.

Joyce is in the kitchen with Bob, making some popcorn over the stove. He’s filming her with his ridiculously large camera and you can’t help but smile as you watch them. Joyce looks so happy around the guy, laughing more than she’s laughed in the last five or so years you’ve known her. She deserves this, she deserves a guy like Bob. Sweet, slightly silly, but good.

When Joyce sees you lingering in the doorway, she waves you in. “Hey, honey. Any luck with Will tonight?”

“A bit, he told me some of what’s happening at school. He still seems… off, but at least he was opening up. It’s a good sign.”

Joyce hums, but you can sense that there’s more on her mind. You look around to make sure Bob isn’t near, he’s busy digging through a cabinet to find a clean bowl, so you move closer to the woman and lower your voice. “What did Dr. Owens say this time?”

“Claims we need to just pretend everything is okay, despite the fact that it’s getting worse.”

There’s an edge in Joyce’s voice, so you’re careful with your words. “Well… I think he’s right.”

“You do?” Joyce turns to you, her voice loud with surprise, before she quickly remembers Bob is near and lowers it again. “Why do you think that?”

“I was up late reading a new journal I found about acute trauma in children. It’s been almost a year since Will disappeared, he spent days in complete fear, almost died… I mean, it makes sense that his body is remembering those traumatic effects.”

“So you think we should just leave Will alone, let him suffer through his episodes without any help?” There’s more confusion and fear than anger in Joyce’s voice, and you rest your hand against her arm.

“I know it seems counterintuitive, but the best studies we have all show that we have to let those who suffer from post-traumatic stress adapt at their own pace, through their own ways. They hate feeling pitied, and I have a feeling Will is starting to as well.”

Joyce turns the stove off and shakes her head at you. “You sound like Hop. I thought you hated the guy.”

“I don’t hate him,” you chuckle, now helping the woman peel off the foil and sprinkle some salt onto the popcorn. “He just reminds me too much of my dad, and we all know how that ends.”

“Well if you ask me, I think it’s because you two are so similar.”

You gasp. “How dare you!”

Joyce laughs and the seriousness from the previous conversation dissipates. Bob finds a clean bowl and together you and him pour the fresh popcorn in as Joyce prepares the drinks. They’re having a movie night together, and you want to cry because of how adorable it all is. Joyce deserves this.

“You know you’re welcome to join us tonight, Y/N. It’s Will’s turn to choose the movie.” Joyce tells you, but you politely decline.

“Normally I’d love to, but I should get going. I have some homework and I promised Dustin I’d bake him some Halloween treats.”

“Oh!” Bob turns to you. “Speaking of, you promised you’d give me that recipe of yours!”

You and Joyce share an amused look. “You caught me, I did. I’ll write it down right now and you have to swear that no one else will look at this. Deal?”

Bob nods, ecstatic, and you grab a piece of paper and quickly scribble down all the ingredients he’ll need and how to make the cookies. Joyce watches fondly, and you fill with warmth having pleased her. When you’re done, you hand the paper over to Bob and make him cross his heart, just to be extra sure he won’t reveal all your secrets.

“Scout’s honor!”

“Very good then, soldier.” You salute him, and then pull Joyce into a hug. “I really gotta go now. Can you tell Jonathan I said goodbye?”

“Of course, bike home safe, alright?”

You wink at her. “Scout’s honor.”

Bob lets out a loud cackle and you can’t believe that this guy is real, but Joyce is laughing along with him and you’re pleased she’s found someone as endearing and kind as him.

–

As soon as you get home you throw down your backpack and bunker down at the kitchen table. Your mom isn’t back from work yet and Dustin seems to be off somewhere doing god knows what, so it’s just you and Mews for now.

Mews plops herself on the table next to an essay you’ve been working on and you scratch her head as you work. You get lost in your writing, humming softly to yourself, enjoying this small moment of peace.

You won’t admit this to Jonathan, but he’s right. You’ve been overworking yourself, your body aches and your eyes droop with exhaustion almost every day now. But keeping yourself busy is what’s helping you stay afloat. The more you pile onto yourself, the less time you have to think about Steve and his stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid face.

In the middle of one of your sentences, Dustin flings the front door open and scares you. “Jesus, dude!”

He doesn’t spare you a glance, but when he sees Mews on the table with you he suddenly looks a bit alarmed. “Mews is here?”

“Yeah…? She’s helping me with this english essay.” You respond, confused.

“Huh,” Dustin thinks for a second, but seems to shrug it off. “Anyways, I’m home.”

“I can see that.”

“Are you gonna ask about my day?”

“How was your day, my dear brother.”

Dustin hops onto the table and shimmies his shoulders. “I met a girl.”

“What?” You drop your pencil in shock and Mews scatters, your exclaim having frightened her.

“Don’t act too surprised, geesh.” Your brother rolls his eyes, but then he frowns. “Actually, technically speaking I haven’t met her yet, but–”

“You have a crush?” You’re in shock. In your eyes, Dustin is still a baby, no older than six years old. And yet here is he, thirteen and talking to you about a girl.

“Yes, Y/N. Her name is Max, she has red hair and is new, and she’s totally awesome.”

Red hair? You remember seeing that girl in the parking lot earlier today. “Was she with that weird new guy, the one with a mullet?”

Dustin nods, so you poke him in the stomach and ooh at him. “I saw her this morning, she was prettyyyy.”

He shoves your finger away and blushes, which you find adorable. Dustin’s first ever crush, you can’t believe how old he is now.

“Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s also just awesome. I think she’s the one with the new high score on Dig Dug.”

“Dig Dug?”

Your brother scoffs. “The arcade game the party always plays? Honestly, do you not listen when I tell you about my days?”

“Alright, fine. If you can remember what I told you I did yesterday, then I’ll apologize for not listening better.”

Dustin closes his mouth, unable to recall a thing.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick his hat. “Anyways, since you officially like girls now, I’ve been dying to give you some girl advice.”

“Y/N–” Dustin groans, but you shush him.

“First things first, always be a gentleman. Max does indeed seem cool, but I’m sure she’d appreciate a nice and polite young man like yourself.”

Dustin nods. “Okay, be kind. Got it.”

“Good. Now secondly, we Hendersons are charming people, so just be yourself.”

“Duh,”

“Lastly, if she shows interest, tell her how you feel. Better you’re honest and true about how you feel rather than hide it and sulk.”

Dustin snorts. “Says you.”

You look away from him, slightly hurt. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“C’mon, Y/N. When are you gonna tell Jonathan you love him? I mean, everyone knows you do, it’s about time you confess.” Dustin drones on, unaware of your hurt feelings. “And he’s obviously in love with you, you guys are disgusting to be around–”

“He doesn’t love me back.” You whisper, looking down at your paper. You feel pathetic, confessing this to your little brother.

Dustin freezes, now realizing you’ve gone quiet. He can feel your mood darken and he feels like shit for not noticing it sooner. He’s upset you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought he did, I mean the party and I all assumed…”

His words fade off, and you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. It’s embarrassing, you shouldn’t be pitied like this by your brother. “It’s okay, I know what you meant.”

“Y/N–”

You get up from the table and gather your things, shoving them into your backpack. “I’m gonna finish up this essay in my room, then I promise I’ll start baking those marshmallow puffs you like–”

Dustin jumps down from the table and blocks you from leaving the kitchen. “Jonathan is an ass–”

“Language–”

He doesn’t let you interrupt. “You’re cool, he’s stupid, and I’m here for you. Alright? Don’t make me pull a code blue on you.”

You wrap your brother into your arms, something he hadn’t been expecting, and allow yourself a small laugh. “No need for a code blue, I promise. Just, give me like an hour to sulk and then I’ll be as good as new. Okay?”

When you pull away, Dustin eyes you, but understands he won’t win this argument. The two of you handle your emotions the same way: alone, in solitude, away from prying eyes. He knows you just need some time to yourself, but he still feels like a jerk for upsetting you in the first place. “Fine, but if you’re sulking later I’ll flick your nose.”

You flick his nose and then quickly flee to your room, Dustin not far behind you. “Flicked you first!”

“Not fair!”

You slam your bedroom door and giggle as you lock it. Dustin bangs on the door, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. You tell him you’ll be out as soon as you’re done with your essay, and then go and sit down at your desk. Sighing, you dig into your bag and pull out what you need. Without meaning to, you look up and see your Spider-Man poster, your wonderful Christmas gift from Steve, hanging in front of you.

The small joy you’d been feeling vanishes.

The poster stares back at you, you can almost hear it calling you a pathetic coward, and you feel guilt claw at your throat. You close your eyes, remembering the cold from that winter day, and you can almost smell the cologne Steve had been wearing when you’d thrown yourself into his warmth. Sometimes, if you sit still enough, you think you can feel the ghost of his embrace.

You open your eyes.

Steve isn’t here.

Of course he isn’t here.

You exhale, feeling the familiar ache and exhaustion within you; junior year is looking quite grim.

⌑ series masterlist

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wtlws #m's writing #steve: and i took that personally #reader: :(#bless them

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bisexualiteaa · 11 months

Text

Finding out you have an ✨intimate✨ piercing

CW: suggestive themes and light mentions of smut so 18+ content! Reader is written in a more AFAB orient. Also thank you all for such great receptions on my CoD works, it means the world to get my silly little writings and ideas out and that you all like them so much, so a million times thank you. 🥹🫶

John "Soap" MacTavish

- It was a secret you held from him for a while, having spent years in the force together before finally dating, he hadn't known til now that you had nipple piercings.

- He had seen a few of your other piercings when you would wear jewelry outside of work, like your earrings, a nose ring, even having your eyebrow pierced and a belly ring when you were out and about on a day off, none of those things phased him, they were just a part of you.

- It was when you two had finally taken the next step in your relationship to get intimate for the first time that he had found out, this was the first time he'd ever seen you without a bra.

- As soon as you removed the material from your chest, he was excited to see what laid beneath, and soon shocked to see you had your nipples pierced. He gave a whistle at the sight of your titties that had just grown even more alluring to his eyes.

- "When did ya decide to get that done, hen?" He asked with an intruiged grin, making you look down to see what he was referring to. "Oh these? God it was so long ago, I got them on a stupid dare back in high school. My friends at the time said they'd give me fifty bucks to get it done to prove my pain tolerance" you admitted, making him laugh. "Only fifty bucks?" He asked. "Well originally the bet was I'd only get one done, but mama didn't raise a bitch, so I got both done. The piercing itself was only thirty, so I made twenty bucks out of it. Twenty bucks and friends who'd never question my nuts of steel ever again" you replied making him laugh at the response that seemed sounded so completely like you.

- You on the other hand, couldn't help but see the way he was looking at them, oggling at them as if he was admiring them even more, seeing the look on his face that practically read "wonder what it'd feel like to have them in my mouth."

- "You like them?" You asked with honeyed seduction in your tone, a cheeky grin on your face as you made him snap out of hid own thoughts. "I do, like 'em a lot actually" he answered, stepping closer and placing one of his hands to your breast, his thumb brushing over your pebbled nipple, making you give a sigh at the sensitive feeling. "Heard they can make ya more sensitive" He started to say, his accent thicker now as his own voice took on a deeper octave, lascivious intent laced in his tone. "Care to find out?" You asked with a grin, making him loop his other arm around you to pull you close. "You bet I fuckin' would" he answered before leaning down to wrap his lips around the other nipple. You gave a moan, leaning your head back as he started to suck on it, earning a plethora of lovely sounds from you.

- Needless to say, he was definitely a fan of these piercings too, enjoying this new information about you and the things he could do with it, he loved the way they were so sensitive and made you make such beautiful sounds for him.

König

- You knew this little stunt would definitely shock König when he came home from his mission in the next couple of months, giving the jewelry ample time to heal before he was able to catch sight of it in action.

- "got a little surprise for you when you come home~" you'd text him one day, giving him absolutely no context, but reading the message alone was enough to make his mind run rampant. Had you bought a new outfit? Some lingerie to surprise him in when he got home? Did you get him something he told you about? Oh how this poor man's mind was reeling from all the possibilities.

- So when the couple of months passed and he finally made it home, he'd almost forgotten all about it, happy to just see you after going months out in the field without getting to hear from you except for periodically.

- That was, until you were on your knees in front of him, his dick heavy on your tongue as you circled it around his tip before taking him in your mouth, that he felt something a little different.

"Maus? What- Scheiße...what is that?" He asked through moans, making you giggle as he looked down at you. "Your surprise, liebe" you answered sweetly, sticking your tongue out to show him the jewelry before you gave a long lick up the expanse of his cock, teasing the sensitive spot under his tip with your piercing. "You like it?" You asked with a cocky grin, knowing by the way he was moaning and practically melting at your every touch that he did, but you needed to hear him say it.

- "Ja, I like it a lot liebling" he replied, his hand carding through your hair, keeping it away from your face as your lips wrapped around him, taking him in as deep as you could as your hand wrapped around what you couldn't fit.

- He definitely made it clear how much he liked it, from the way he would kiss you with far more tongue now just to feel it against his own, to the way he would get more excited than before when you would get on your knees to please him, or even anytime you'd run your tongue along his skin, he swore it was his new favorite feeling.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

- You were embarrassed when he found out that you had a clit piercing, knowing the reason behind why you had gotten it done, even though he hadn't known yet.

- You had it before meeting Simon, having been in a couple of relationships before meeting him. The jewelry was a need for you after your previous relationships, due to your former partners and their lack of abilities in making you finish.

- You and Simon had sex before, so you knew thankfully, even if you hadn't had the jewelry, he was finally the one to break the cycle. But anytime you knew you were going to get intimate with him, you'd take it out beforehand and pray he wouldn't be too observant of the area so he wouldn't know.

- So when you forgot to take it out one day, caught by surprise by him coming home early from the field without telling you, your anxiety began to get the better of you as things turned intimate.

- It made you incredibly nervous and embarrassed the moment he went down on you and found the jewel peaking from your clit, and had he not been between your legs, you'd have shut them if you could.

- "What's this you've got here?" He asked, knowing damn well what it is, but he enjoyed teasing you too much, especially when you were in a more shy and submissive mood. "A piercing..." You let out, hiding your face as you admitted to it, and by the tone he knew he needed to let up and check on you.

- "What's wrong, love? Do you not want to do this?" He asked, worried that perhaps he had pushed things when you weren't in the mood, or maybe misjudged your signals. "No, no! It's not that at all, I want this I just.." You started to say before giving a sigh and trying to collect your thoughts and courage. "I'm just embarrassed to have it" you admitted, making him come back up to be level with you. "Why?" He asked, genuinely curious as to why you'd get something like that, then be embarrassed of it. "Because...if I'm honest, the people I had been with before you, weren't good" you started, feeling a little more at ease to open up to him. "So I got it when I was single, before I met you, to help me finally have a chance to experience an orgasm for once in my fucking life when I'd have sex, instead of having to fake it and take matters into my own hands later" you admitted, making him chuckle at your admission that he felt was completely valid. Little did you know, you'd just sky rocketed his ego in telling him he's the first person to make you cum.

- "You don't need to be ashamed love, I'd be pissed too if a shit back like that didn't make me cum" he said, making you giggle at his blunt words of reassurance, but that was Simon, and you took comfort in knowing he didn't hate it. "You don't mind it? I can take it out if you'd prefer" you asked. "I think it's a good look on you" he replied honestly, his fingers gently circling your clit, making you moan and clutch at the sheets beside you as you delighted in his touch. "I'd say I feel sorry for the poor bloke you got this for who missed out.." he mused, trailing his lips down your stomach, then all the way down until he was once again situated between your legs, mouth just centimetres from your aching cunt. "But I don't" he finished, placing a light, open mouthed kiss to your clit, making you buck your hips in reaction. "Legs open for me love, let me show you how much I like it, yeah?" He asked, watching you nod your head yes before devouring you like you were his last meal.

- He made damn sure that after that night, you weren't ashamed of it anymore.

#cod imagine #cod smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #könig imagine #könig #könig smut #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap smut #simon riley imagine #soap imagine #könig cod

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jakes3resin · 22 days

Text

Blondes Have More Fun

Anyways, this is probably the closest I'll ever get to writing Crack fic for this fandom, so enjoy Blond!Bucky and his ability to drive Buck and the entirety of the 100th wild with his smile and hair! Also personally I think Callum looks like a 24 year old when blond, so imagine handsome charming, nearly thirty Bucky Egan running around looking like a baby faced newbie then you'll be half a bowled over as the 100th.

It is a truth universally acknowledged at Thorpe Abbotts that Major John "Bucky" Egan can be talked into anything. Anything. So long as you were convincing and Buck wasn't around to drag him away from the dumber ideas, Bucky was down to play ball.

Curt had once talked him into using a British accent for a whole week, even in meetings with the CO. Bucky hadn't even blinked before adopting an uncannily perfect London accent. It was so convincing that some of the newer replacements had asked if the man was British.

Another time, he got into a howl off with Meatball after Hambone said he didn't know which one was worse. The pair were so loud that no one could actually tell who won. Most were too busy covering their ears. The few that weren't couldn't decide. It was officially settled as a draw, but Benny still refuses to accept that Bucky would ever beat his precious boy Meatball in anything.

There were countless tales of Bucky getting into trouble simply because someone had said within his earshot the six words needed to wreck Jack Kidd's night.

"You know what would be fun?"

The magic words. That or a dare would send Bucky careening into trouble with half the 100th behind him to watch the fireworks. Honestly, most of the time, Bucky was already getting up to his own antics, so convincing him to do something else wasn't exactly hard.

It was one such utterance of the phrase that sparked a wildfire within the 100th Bomber Group that threatened to tear them asunder and send one Major Gale "Buck" Cleven to an early grave. Or prison.

The night was like any other Friday night. Bucky had gone out with Curt and Bubbles. Buck had chosen to stay in for the night reading, and Harry had done much the same. Kidd, the minder of the entire 100th, had gone to the officer's club while the trio had gone to a local pub in the town just off base. So the usual minders of this trio of mad men were missing, and as the saying goes, while the cats are away, the mice will play.

It started as Bubbles's idea.

At least that's what they think it started as. A few too many drinks had left the evening a blur for Curt and Bubbles and a blank for Bucky. That last fact will be important later.

"You know what would be fun?" Bubbles said, or perhaps it was Curt. Or maybe it was Bucky. But it was probably Bubbles. The man was quite the troublemaker, he just hid it better behind soft smiles and manners.

"What?" Bucky leaned against the bar to grin at Bubbles. Well perhaps a more accurate word would be slumped, he'd spent half the night playing some weird darts game that required shots for every bull's eye Tommy made. It was safe to say that the man was on the downhill slide to wasted. Curt kept an ear on the pair as he flirted with a pretty blonde next to them at the bar.

"Being blonde." Bubbles sighed. "All the movies make it seem fun, don't they? And Major Cleven sure is pretty with his blond hair. I bet it'd look really pretty as well on your curls Bucky."

"Sorry, sweetheart, one moment," Curt turned his head to stare at Bubbles. "You think Buck's pretty?"

"And you don't?"

"I do!"

"We know you do, Bucky," Curt sighed and leaned further onto the bar to make eye contact with Bubbles. "I mean, sure, objectively, you could say he is, but I thought you were wrapped up with Croz and Jean?"

"I am, but I still got eyes don't I? 'Sides ain't there something fun about being blonde?" Bubbles leaned against his cupped hand on the bar. "Can't a mind wonder?"

"Yeah Curt," Bucky rose in defense of his friend slinging an arm around Bubble's neck. The move was so uncoordinated that the pair were nearly sent to the floor. "Why can't Bubbles wonder? I wanna go blond, too!"

Curt rolled his eyes at them, but an idea was taking root in his head. An amazing idea.

"Well," Curt grinned. "Why wonder when you can do?"

"You boys aren't thinking about bleaching your friend's hair on your own are you?" A voice cut through the trio's conversation. It seemed the blonde woman from before had been listening in and was rightly amused by the drunk airmen's conversation.

"Cause you'll fry his whole head off in the state you're in, and the world would mourn those curls." She lifted a hand to tug gently on one of Bucky's loose wavy curls. He smiled at her, loose and happy. Usually, only Buck plays with his hair, but Bucky doesn't mind when anyone else does. Buck does though, which Bucky still hasn't figured out.

"Well, how do you suppose we save his curls then," Curt paused searching for the woman's name, "Nora."

"Good job, I half thought you were too drunk to remember my name handsome." Curt smiled, and Nora kept talking

"There's a drugstore down the way. Stocks up on anything a girl, or flyboy in need, could ever need. I'll help you boys out." Nora laughed. "You'll look mighty pretty dyeing those curls blond Major. I wanna see 'em first."

With Nora leading the way, the trio tripped over themselves into chaos. Bucky laughed as Bubbles rambled on about how pretty he'll look as a blond. Curt butting in to say that he'll need to either shave his mustache or bleach it too.

On base, Buck felt a shiver run down his spine as he laid down to sleep. Writing it off as just a chill from the cold British air, the man fell asleep.

Bucky groaned as he woke up. Voices drifted around him. His head felt like it'd be screwed off and used as a bowling ball all night, and as desperately as he wanted to go back to sleep, he knew that now that the sun was up, he was up.

"Curt, if that's you snoring on my legs, I'm gonna kick you off." Bucky pulled his pillow further over his head, trying to block out said snores.

"Fuck off," Came the grumbled reply. An elbow dug into the back of his knee.

"Get off," John whined. Curt huffed shifting just enough to let Bucky free his legs. "Why didn't you go to your own bed?"

"Yours is comfier." Bubbles murmured next to the pair, and Bucky really was starting to wonder what the hell they all drank the night before.

"It's the same cot as everybody else." Bucky grumbled, finally sitting up. Bubbles and Curt immediately swooped onto the space he abandoned. "Rude. You just want me for my bed."

"But it's such a lovely bed, sweetheart," Curt buried his face in Bucky's pillow, not even glancing at the man he was stealing from. Bubbles seemed to have immediately fallen back to sleep.

"I'm getting breakfast," Bucky yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Meet me there when you idiots wake up. I'll sneak you in."

"Sir, yes, sir." Curt's hand flopped into a mock salute that had Bucky rolling his eyes.

First things first, breakfast. Or at least coffee for his hangover.

Getting dressed as quickly as he could, Bucky didn't even waste time checking how he looked in a mirror. He went to smooth down his mustache only to curse when he found it missing. Thinking Curt must have shaved it off as a joke, Bucky groaned but moved on. He didn't even touch his hair after that, just walked right out of his barracks. The only thing that mattered to him was coffee and how he'd get his hands on a gallon of it. It wouldn't be the first time he ran around base with his hair going every which way. No one would bat an eye.

Had he known what kind of chaos he was about to wreck upon the poor, unsuspecting airmen of Thorpes Abbotts, Bucky would have at least styled it a bit. You know, just to ensure maximum chaos.

The bike ride to the mess wasn't awful. The fresh air helped at least. With his sunglasses on, his head felt less like it was going to split open and more human. What was weird was how everyone stopped in their tracks to watch him ride past.

"Is that-?"

"No way!"

"Someone get Kidd!"

"Holy shit!"

"Major Cleven is going to lose his mind!"

"Do you think he has a twin?"

"Hell if I know, I can't believe Major Cleven let him out of the barracks like that."

"Lord help us if there's another Egan running around."

Bucky ignored them. He was way too hungover to parse through what nonsense the boys were going on about, and he simply pedaled faster to get to the officer's mess. He just wanted his coffee.

"Major Egan, sir!"

Bucky glances up from securing his bike and meets the eye of one of the newer boys. Kid barely looks old enough to have enlisted.

"Uh," Bucky searches his memory for this kid's name. Bucky tried to know some of the newbies names, but it was harder than he'd ever admit. "Monroe, right?

"Yes, sir!" The kid squeaked, a bright tomato blush spreading across his cheeks. Bucky winced, the sound drilling right into his brain. "I wanted to say you look nice today, sir. Your, your hair is real nice!"

"Thanks, Monroe," Bucky smiled, thrown by how Monroe managed to grow even redder. He reaches out to clasp the kid on the shoulder. "You alright there? You look like you're gonna faint. Had any breakfast yet?"

"I-I'm fine, sir, thank you!" Monroe was stock still under Bucky's hand, but he wrote it off as nerves. Some of the boys got nervous around the older pilots, especially if they were officers. "I'll be going now! Have a good day, sir!"

In a flash, the blushing replacement ducked under Bucky's arm and ran as fast as he could down the lane. Bucky watched him go, head tilted not sure what the hell just happened to him. He heard a few shrieks behind him but wrote it off as typical background noise. There was always something going on.

"Weird kid." Bucky turned to walk into the officer's mess. He'd have to tell Buck about it when he saw him next. Maybe he'd understand what just happened.

Speaking of, Buck had better have saved him a seat for breakfast. Bucky was not going to battle the morning rush as well as his hangover just to find out he had nowhere to sit.

On the way inside, Bucky ran into Veal. As in, he literally ran into the man because he'd stopped dead in his tracks staring at him. Bucky hadn't even seen the other before he practically bowled him over.

"Veal, what the hell?" Bucky groaned.

"You," Veal stared at him wide-eyed. If Bucky were less hungover, he'd get quite a kick out of this. "You, you?"

"Shaved, I know," Bucky gestured to his face. He turned to keep walking into the officer's mess. "Yeah, Curt had some fun last night."

"Wait, no! Bucky-!" Veal went to grab him, but Bucky just swerved out of the way. Nothing was getting in his way in his quest for coffee. "Bucky! Stop! Don't go in there!"

"Yeah, yeah, Veal," Bucky waved a hand behind him. "I get you're shocked, but come on, man. It's not the first time any of you've seen me without it!"

Bucky rushed in, not paying anymore attention to Veal. He walked with one purpose. Coffee. He didn't care if the other officers stopped and stared at him slackjawed as he walked past. He was a man on a mission.

"Hey, coffee, please? Whole pot if you could," Bucky smiled at the attendant, who blushed scarlet before running off. Thrown but not deterred, Bucky just shrugged and turned to find Buck. Maybe he'd be able to steal Buck's coffee.

He found Buck seated near one of the windows with his back facing Bucky. Jack was at his table, but otherwise, it was empty. Bucky started over.

Jack saw him first and choked on his grapefruit juice.

"Oh shit," Jack choked out. Buck leaned over to check on him.

"Alright, Jack?" Bucky grabbed the seat next to Buck. Jack just stared at him, eyes wide. Bucky tilts his head confused. "Buck, what's with him?"

Buck turns and freezes. Bucky stares at him. Buck stares back.

"Buck?" Bucky reaches out to shake him.

"You," Buck starts but doesn't finish. His wide blues eyes stare at Bucky's face.

"Coffee, sir!"

The attendant from before arrives with Bucky's requested pot of coffee and a cup.

"Thanks!" Bucky smiles up at the other. The attendant trips backward. Buck turns and glares at the other man. He flees.

"Buck, what the hell?" Bucky nudges Buck. "Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

Buck turns to stare at Bucky again, a clench to his jaw that Bucky's knows means he's holding something back. Jack seems to have started breathing normally again.

"Your hair!" Jack says. Bucky reaches up to touch his hair. Sure, he didn't style it this morning, but was it so bad? Monroe said it looked good!

Speaking of, why was everyone focusing on his hair today?

"What about it?" Bucky's genuinely curious now. Buck's still staring at him, eyes bright, and now Jack seems to be wishing for death.

"Its-!"

"Pretty."

Bucky turns to Buck. It's his turn to stare wide-eyed at the other. A blush rises up to his cheeks. Buck's not one to mince his words, and a compliment from him feels akin to a hundred.

The entire mess hall goes quiet as Buck stares at him. Bucky smiles at him. Buck goes rigid, and Jack chokes on his juice next to them. Again.

"Bucky!" Curt slammed his hand against the window, happy as a clam and utterly sober. Bucky hates that Irish constitution of his. "Let us in!"

Bucky stands up to hoist open the window. Jack's still too busy choking on his juice to stop him, and Buck seems to have frozen solid. Bubbles and Curt fall through seconds later. The pair immediately start talking over each other happily, and Bucky is starting to wonder if he was the only one who woke up with a hangover.

"God, you should hear the scuttlebutt going round!" Curt cackles as he launches himself into the seat across from Bucky. Bubbles nods next to him, already munching on a piece of toast Bucky thinks used to be Jack's.

"Anything fun?" Bucky dumps creamer into his coffee. He moans as he takes a sip of it. God, coffee really was the best hangover cure. Bucky doesn't notice how quiet the mess hall got until Bubbles finally answers his question a minute later. Odd.

"Just how pretty your hair looks now Major," Bubbles smiled at him. Bucky reached for his hair again.

"Is it really so different?" He asks. Buck makes a noise next to him like a dying chicken, and Curt cackles.

"Blond really is your color, Bucky! You look like one of those pin up posters running around like that!" Curt reaches across the table to tug on one of his curls, drawing it down into his eyesite. Buck bangs his knee against the table with a swear. Bucky would fuss over him, but he's reevaluating his whole morning with this new information.

"Oh!" Bucky gasps. Now he feels silly. "That's why Monroe complimented me outside?"

"Pardon?" Buck's voice comes out strangled. Bucky swings his gaze back to him. Buck's blue eyes are nearly electric, and Bucky gulps.

"Monroe? Cute kid? Brunette replacement with a billion freckles that disappear when he blushes?" Bucky rambles. Curt cackles again as Jack buries his face into his hands. Bubbles grabs a slice of Buck's toast this time.

"And he stopped you?" Buck's jaw was doing the thing Bucky knows only happens when he's pissed. But why would he be mad? Bucky tilts his head to stare at Buck, curls flopping down into his eyes now that Curt's untucked them from behind his ears.

Buck clenches his fist.

"Yeah, he and Veal both stopped me before I walked in." Bucky reaches over to grab Buck's hand. "You okay?"

"I'm fine John," Buck reaches up to tuck his loose curls back behind his ear. His hand lingers, and Bucky fights the urge to press his cheek into Buck's hand. "You look real pretty."

"Yeah?" Bucky sits up straighter, leaning into Buck's space. "How pretty?"

"Like a daydream." Buck whispers, voice low. His blue eyes won't stop staring, and Bucky can tell his blush is spreading by the volume of Curt's laugh.

Oh, Bucky could just kiss the other.

"Yeah, Nora did a nice job on your hair!" Bubbles pipes up having polished off Buck's toast. "We should write her a thank you card!"

"Nora?" Buck twitches.

"The girl who dyed Bucky's hair, of course!" Curt chimed in reaching for Bucky's coffee. Bucky batted his hands away, holding desperately onto his cup. "Pretty girl too! Kept running her hands through Bucky's hair saying how nice it was."

"I think nows a good time to stop that." Jack shoved his last slice of toast in Curt's mouth.

Buck's hand was still hovering over Bucky's cheek.

"Oh, now I remember!" Bucky leaned towards Curt and Bubbles with a bright smile. "She kissed me on the cheek before we left, right?"

Buck pushed his chair away from the table with a screech. Jack turned back to his grapefruit juice with a sigh.

Buck stormed out of the building, and it was through the combined efforts of Curt and Bubbles that Bucky didn't run after him. They could hear yelling through the still open window.

"Oh shit!"

"Everybody run! Major Cleven's pissed!"

"Who flirted with Bucky this time?!"

"Buck calm down, whoever it was they probably didn't mean anything by it!"

"Outta my way Crank."

"Buck, c'mon if you go to jail, who'll stay by Bucky's side?"

"Only gotta go to prison if I get caught."

"That's right-wait, Buck, no!"

Bucky sipped at his coffee. Jack sighed and turned to Bucky.

"Would you please go stop him? I'm not explaining to Harding why one of the 100th murdered a civilian, a fellow Major, and a replacement."

"Buck wouldn't do that," Bucky rolled his eyes.

Jack stared at him, judgement clear in his eyes. Bucky shifted under his gaze.

"Fine," Bucky groaned and pushed away from the table. He refilled his cup of coffee. "He wouldn't, but I'll go stop him."

Curt and Bubbles chirped their goodbyes as they waved down an attendant. Bucky mourned his pot of coffee as he glanced back and saw Curt gleefully pouring it into a cup.

Stepping put in the sunshine, Bucky reached for his sunglasses. Finding Buck would be easy. He simply turned in the direction of the yelling and started walking.

He ignored the boys all watching him and whispering. Now that he was walking, he could see his reflection in the windows of the buildings he passed. His normally brown locks were now a bright blond. He felt a bit foolish for not seeing it earlier, but hangovers tended to narrow one's field of vision to only what's necessary.

"DeMarcooo!" Bucky called out when he saw the other walking Meatball. "You seen Buck anywhere?"

"Just missed him," Benny yelled back. He pointed to the left of the barracks. "Went that way!"

"Thanks!" Bucky called back with a smile. A few of the boys around him erupted in whispers.

"Nice hair!" Benny yelled with a grin. Bucky rolled his eyes and kept walking. Buck couldn't have gone too far, right?

He found Buck only a few minutes later outside of one of the barracks the replacements were quartered. He was leaning against a wall talking to someone.

"Buck!" Bucky jogged over. As he got closer, he realized that the person Buck was talking to was the kid from earlier. "Monroe! Good to see you again so soon!"

"Major!" Monroe squeaked, eyes bouncing from Buck to Bucky. "Major Cleven was just reminding me about a few chores that I forgot about! I'll get going! Sirs!"

The kid ran off before Bucky could stop him. Buck watched with a satisfied gleam in his eyes, and Bucky huffed out a laugh.

"You know, you don't have to act all jealous to get my attention," Bucky pulled Buck to him by wrapping an arm around his waist. "I'll still only ever look at you."

"Just making sure everyone else knows that." Buck replied, voice low and serious.

Bucky reached up his free hand to drag him down into a kiss. Buck melted into his touch. Bucky laughed into he kiss as he tried to keep his coffee from spilling all over the two of them. He pecks the corner of Buck's mouth and pulls away.

"So you like the hair?" Bucky scrunches his nose into a shit eating grin.

Buck wiped that grin off his face with another kiss. Not that Bucky was complaining, of course.

Later that night, after making sure Buck didn't actually murder anyone, Bucky found himself in front of a vaguely familiar drug store.

"Well Major, I take it your boy liked the blond?" Nora grinned, pink lips spread into a devilish smile. She leaned one hip against the drug store counter. "Surprised you made it back here. You boys weren't exactly stone cold sober when you left."

"I always remember my bets, darling. I'll forget a lot but never those." Bucky laughed and set his hat down on the counter next to her. A single blond curl fell down into his eyes. "Now, what's this about makeup?"

"Oh, Major, you'll look lovely in something peachy."

#please ignore the fact that a small country town in England during ww2 had the necessary products for this during rationing #nora is an oc that exists solely because i have heard horror stories about people not knowing how to use hair bleach #and knew these three fools would burn Bucky's hair off if left unattended so thus NORA #everyone falls in love with Bucky #and blond Bucky is a bombshell no one survives #curt is only surviving because he thrives off of the chaos #internally he is also screaming about how pretty bucky is caude im a curtbucky stan as well #mota #masters of the air #buck x bucky #clegan #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #bucky egan #john egan #gale cleven #buckbucky #my writing

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arialerendeair · 4 months

Note

Happy birthday once again!!!

For lil' drabble ideas, consider this: Hob works at one of those topless/bikini kind of coffee shops (maybe a guy version, so the outfits are scantily short shorts and leather harnesses or maybe he's the token guy at a bikini one so he goes and takes orders from guys that make his coworkers feel unsafe or something)

Dream, who just got a new job and needs a new coffee shop that's on his commute, tries this one out on Desire's recommendation (he should have known, in hindsight.) He goes once (doesn't get Hob this time around) but the coffee is genuinely delicious. And cheaper than others around. So Dream comes back. And then he finally gets Hob and he knows, after seeing how the (bikini top/harness/nothing?) looks on his glorious pelt of chest hair and how warm and inviting his smile is, Dream knows he can't ever go elsewhere.

And if the other baristas notice the largest tips from the hot goth twink always go to Hob, they'll never tell. But they do always make sure Hob's there to take his order instead.

I think my favorite thing about this is that Dream is initially like, "Meh whatever, they have good coffee" and then Hob shows up and BAM.

And Hob is that guy who started doing this to make a couple of extra bucks at school, nothing meant to be long term, and certainly nothing meant to be serious. He doesn't mind the lycra shorts that almost have his asscheeks hanging out, nor the fact that he's got a little bit of love handles hanging over the waistband. Nor does he mind the top/harness thing they're supposed to wear It's kinky, of course, but it doesn't phase him in the slightest.

He spent his entire sophomore college year sleeping with anyone (guy, girl, or otherwise) who looked at him sideways so he knows that despite not being conventionally attractive to some he's wanted by his fair share of people Hob's the type who loves people, so fucking much, and having a job where he gets to cater to that love, and to give people a bit of a show in turn? Well, that's heaven if he ever saw it.

So he keeps the harness as his shoulders broaden and the shorts get a little bit tighter as he goes from scrawny college student to someone closer to their thirties than their twenties, and then someone in his thirties. Hob is well-aware that he has a specific clientele that comes in for him (determined to sit in his section, at least, when he's not working the register) - a handful of middle aged ladies who sport a permanent blush in the shop, a few younger boys who want something that he won't give them, and others who don't give a damn about the overall experience of the shop, they just want coffee.

(The people desperate for their coffee fix are Hob's favorites.)

Which is precisely how Hob meets the wraith of a man he starts calling his Stranger. The man, prior to his coffee, seems to have a permanent scowl etched on his face, but there's this LOOK he gets, after he takes his sip and tips his head back just a fraction that Hob... well. He's certainly not immune to it, and sometimes he's damn glad for the counter between them. It takes more than a dozen meetings where his Stranger just stares blearily at him as he dutifully recites his order, but then It happened.

It was June 7th. It was a Wednesday. It was moderately cloudy outside. Hob was tired. The waistband on his shorts was going, and the harness today was not sitting right no matter what he did. He tugged at it impatiently as he typed in his Stranger's order and heard a sharp, pointed intake of breath. When he looks up, his Stranger is staring at him, and the clear lust in his eyes is enough to have Hob ready to vault over the counter.

There's one beat, two, before his Stranger clears his throat and offers his credit card. Hob takes it and nearly drops it when his Stranger licks his bloody lips and then bites one, all without looking away from where the harness is digging into his skin more than it should be. Hob swipes the card, not wanting the moment to end, but he is at work, and well. The people who looked at him like this weren't ones he usually wanted to devour alive.

He hands the card back and their fingertips brush, and Hob prays he isn't imagining both of them shivering. There's a moment, both of them still staring, and fuck he's going to have to duck into the back room because these shorts really are TIGHT and don't leave anything to the imagination...

"Will..." His Stranger's voice is insanely deep on a good day, but now it sounds half strangled and Hob wants nothing more than to hear it when it's because the man has had his cock down his throat and... he really needed to not think that at work.

"Will you be here, later? I'd like..." His Stranger paused, considering. "To sit at a table in your section."

How the hell a relatively innocent question sounded precisely like a proposition, he had no idea, but his Stranger had managed it. Well-aware that his face was bright red, Hob manages to stammer out that yes, he will be working later, and his Stranger is welcome to one of the tables. He gets one more nod from his Stranger before the man is walking away and Hob knows he is staring at the not particularly substantial ass hungrily, because two of his coworkers make it a point to wolf whistle. Loudly.

Later, when his Stranger sits down with his computer and demands a bottomless cup of coffee, Hob wonders precisely what he is up to. It's only when he brings the check at the end of the night and his skin prickles over with the weight of the stare levelled at him, and his Stranger's hand settles over his as he puts the check down. Hob's heart is pounding as he watches his Stranger struggle for the words, starting and stopping several times over. Eventually, Hob has to save the man from himself, because he wants to climb him like a tree.

"If you're attempting to figure out how to proposition me, I get off work in thirty, I will keep my work uniform on under my clothes and we can go back to your place because I have a roommate and figure things out from there," Hob offered, cocking his hip as he leaned against the table. His forwardness pays off, because his Stranger's mouth drops open and his expression is RAVENOUS. Hob has never wanted to be devoured more.

A single nod is enough to have him grinning, bright and wide. He gives his Stranger a wink and runs his card, before going to clock out. If he made sure that his Stranger saw just how excited HE was as he walked away from the table, well.

No harm in making sure they were on the same page, after all!

#Aria Posts #Aria Answers #Dreamling #Birthday Prompts #kydrogendragon

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hellsbarnes · 2 years

Text

୨ 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 (2) ₊˚ପ⊹ 𝙗.𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 • 𝙨.𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 ୧

pairing: fwb!bucky barnes x avenger!fem!reader x steve rogers (love triangle)

summary: when bucky breaks your heart, choosing dot over you, you are left to pick up to pieces, finding comfort in steve’s arms, until bucky realizes he still loves you.

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors do not interact, mentions of p in v sex, friends with benefits situation, mentions of casual sex, so much angst, lots of heartbreak, self-doubt, dot makes an appearance, (please do not read if you’re uncomfortable)

word count: 2.3k

author’s note: hello and welcome back to chapter 2! i am so so happy to finally have it up for you guys! i spent a lot of time trying to get this chapter right, i hope you enjoy it and please remember to reblog, thank you!

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

You had no idea how long it had been when you finally woke up to sunlight fluttering across your face, stinging your already puffy eyes as you somehow still managed to find it in yourself to get up. You sigh softly, wincing as you blinked, feeling the pain of having cried almost the whole of last night, barely being able to catch about less than three hours of sleep.

You looked towards the clock, the numbers seven thirty-three reflected back and usually you’d be down for breakfast, especially since it was Wanda who would always cook up pancakes and she had always made the coffee taste way better you had remembered it to be, you would have raced towards the kitchen, perhaps start a banter with Sam who always took a little too many pancakes, but then again, you couldn’t go down, no, because he was going to be there.

Bucky would be there, back from his morning run with Steve and Sam, sweaty, his too tight of a shirt sticking to him, giving you a great view of his biceps, and the smile he would give you, almost as if he hadn’t just railed you into your bed hours ago, or rather crushed the heart that you had so delicately placed in his hands.

It was that smile that had gotten your hopes up, that and the way he said “good morning doll” without knowing what that little pet name he gave you did to you. It made butterflies flutter in your tummy, it made you float for the rest of the morning as you went about your day, so, so excited to see him again at night.

“Tin man we both know I won” you froze hearing Sam’s voice reverberate across the hallway, you swallowed hard trying not to make a sound as you heard Bucky’s laugh, loud, contagious and a constant reminder of how well he was still doing, the complete opposite of how you were. Perhaps it was just a simple reminder that you had never meant anything to him at all.

“Keep telling yourself that Wilson, as if anyone’s gonna believe it” you hear him retort, it was the usual argument about who won and how many rounds they each had made in the park, and you heard Steve say something about how it doesn’t matter.

“Yeah, well I know I won,”

“Like hell you did Sam”

“(Y/N) will say I won” Sam replies and you falter when you hear the footsteps that had drawn closer the past few minutes stop outside your door, pausing, and you recognise it almost immediately.

How could you not?

Those footsteps had your heart rushing every time he drew closer, every time he leaned in to see which book you were reading, before asking you to tell him all about it.

“You gotta read it yourself Buck” you had said, giggling when said man rolls his eyes playfully, smile on his face as he looks towards you, “well I have you to tell me darling” he would say, not knowing how he made you feel, as you covered it up with an expert chuckle, before telling him just about every detail of the book.

Maybe it was the way he would listen to you so intently, taking in everything that you would say or it was the way he would lean in, interested in the story you spun from the book, you had let yourself believe that all of it was done because he liked you too.

You could never be more wrong about it.

“Buck?” you heard Steve call and when the footsteps shuffled away, you let the tears that had welled up in your eyes to spill, staining your cheeks once more as you struggle to keep him out of your head, but it was almost impossible to do so, not with the image of his smile or the fleeting feeling of his arm oh so carefully wrapping around your waist when he tried to steady you while you were hanging christmas decorations across the ceiling of the tower.

“Bucky, is it straight?” you asked, trying to look at the decoration you had just hung up, in your eyes it was just a little too much to the right, you bite your lip as you pushed the candy cane to the left.

“It’s perfect” Bucky replied, boyish smirk on his face as hands you another ornament, you took it, and as you tiptoed, trying so hard to reach the hook that was just out of your reach, before you knew it, your foot slipped off the ladder step and you let out a scream as you tried to grab the ladder, only to fail as you fall, you were half expecting to hit the ground, when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist, supporting you, you were breathing hard, looking down to see the brunette, an almost worried look on his face.

“I got you” he said, and you manage today thank you, your heart thundering in your chest. “I always got you doll” he adds, and you remembered thanking whatever god that existed that you weren’t facing him because butterflies were fluttering in your tummy, your cheeks had heated up and that night, you found yourself underneath Bucky again, a moaning mess as he thrust into you.

Oh, you were a putty in the brunette’s hands, you had tried on many occasions to claw your way out, your mind screaming abort, abort but it was too late because your heart had settled itself down, it belonged to Bucky and there was just nothing you could do about it, not that your heart had minded at all, and there it all began, the pining, the endless daydreaming and god forbid, the thoughts you had of him someday wanting you the way you pined for him never stopped.

A tear slid down your cheek and then another, and it didn’t take any longer than a minute for you to end up in the same state as you did just hours ago.

You weren’t exactly sure how many days it has been since what had happened, maybe a week. You were temporarily pulled out of your misery when a soft knock echoed on your door, you mumbled a who’s there only to hear Wanda, asking if she could come in. You stood up, walking over to let her in, she had come with pancakes, your favourite chocolate chip ones and a mug of coffee.

The second she saw the state you were in, she sighs, putting the food down, “come here” she had said softly, taking you in her arms as you sobbed uncontrollably, the dam breaking as you cry, and as the best friend you’ve had since your first day joining the team, she held you, soothing you with warm words and comforting pats.

“Was it Barnes?” she asked and you nod, she had found out about the whole situationship you had with Bucky just days after, she had somehow noticed a spring in your step, your smile was wider, and your eyes simply lit up whenever the brunette walked into the room. That and the fact that you and Bucky would often disappear halfway through movies or parties, and it didn’t take long for her to put two and two together.

“Don’t do this,” she had warned, she knew the feelings you harboured for Bucky, but you were thinking with your heart and you had ignored her advice to stop whatever you and the brunette had going on. You continued, diving deeper and deeper and here you were, crying, trying to find some way to stop the pain, wishing that you had taken her advice sooner.

“W-wanda, he left” you managed to choke out, “it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” she comforts and you willed yourself to believe her words, “come on, let’s go to the pizza place downtown, away from the tower,” she starts and you shake your head.

“You gotta leave this place (Y/N), at least for a while,” she says, standing up and picking up the tissues scattered all over your bedroom floor. “Yeah” you croaked, your voice hoarse as you stood up, finding it in yourself to head to the bathroom, peeling the too big of a shirt of yourself, trying to ignore the fact that it was the piece that Bucky had borrowed you when he had accidentally spilled coffee all over your shirt, you never found the chance to return it.

Well, more like you didn’t want the chance to return it, so you kept it, wearing it so you could smell his scent that until now, still stained the shirt, placing it into your laundry basket you stepped into the shower, allowing the warm stream of water to wash the tears away, to soothe the aching muscles and as you close your eyes, you tried your hardest to forget him.

“Pepperoni or Hawaiian?” Wanda asks as you skim over the menu that is laid before you on the table, the already extremely impatient waitress tapping her pen on her little notebook as you try to make a decision, given the fact you just spent half the day crying, food wasn’t exactly the first thing on your mind.

“Um, Hawaiian’s nice,” you say softly and she nods as the waitress scribbles your order down, walking away. You glance at the scenery before you, you could hear laughter, the sound of the ice-cream truck twirling around the street, with children trailing it, discussing which flavours they wanted to get.

It reminded you of the times that you and him would go on walks through the streets of New York, ever so often stopping for an ice-cream, gone were the times he’d smudge his desert on your nose jokingly.

You could still see the memories play in your head like a film without sound, and you hated how you could feel tears sting at the corner of your eyes as your memories of what you and Bucky threatened to overwhelm you.

Your eyes had been filled with adoration for him and well, his had been void of any emotion for you.

“You okay?” Wanda asks and you nod, about to reply when your eyes met his gaze, the one person that you had really hoped not to see, you quiver under his gaze that seemed so sharp you felt that it could probably slice through you, the same gaze he gave you when you begged him to stay, it was though he didn’t know you’d be here as well, and he wasn’t alone.

He had a girl on his arm, and by the way he was holding on by the waist, you knew she was the girl that Bucky had chosen over you. You watched as they settled at the table that you remembered sharing with him just a month ago at seven in the evening when he asked if you wanted pizza.

You could see why he had dropped you in a blink of an eye, any man would have chosen the bombshell babe almost instantly, the girl that sat across him was perfect in just about every way you never could see yourself being.

Her hair fell down her shoulders in waves, and yours, well, a look in the mirror made the difference between you and the woman Bucky had chosen all the more obvious.

The red lip colour she had going on made her lips plump, kissable and it complemented her red mini skirt, that stopped just below her thighs, exposing her toned legs, she had on a crop top that seemed to emphasise her waist, the little piercing at her belly button glinted under the afternoon sun.

However, what caught your eye was the necklace she had on her neck.

It was a four leaf clover, the very same one that Bucky had gotten you last Christmas, there was no mistaking it, the dazzling light green that painted the metal leaves were the same as what you had back in your room, it still sat in your little gold jewellery box, and the delicate silver chain that adorned her neck only reminded you of how you were over the moon when Bucky helped you put it on.

You had turned around, thanking him and finally worked up the courage to plant a kiss on his cheek. You had worn it daily, taken great care of it, glad to have something that maybe made you Bucky’s person, pretty much forsaking even your Tiffany necklace for the one he gave you.

You watched as she slid her hand so easily into his, a smile on her face as he said something that made her giggle the way he used to do when you and him were out for milkshakes and she looked gorgeous while doing so, looking as though she was one of them Victoria Secret models with her alluring smile.

She was everything Bucky wanted, it was a choice clear as day when it came between you or her.

“We could go somewhere else if you’d like,” Wanda says and you force a smile, shaking your head as you breathe, looking down, hoping that Bucky doesn’t see you wipe tears from your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you say as you tried your hardest to swallow the slice of pizza that sat on your plate, the crust scraping your already dry throat as you ignored the tangy taste of the marinara sauce, willing yourself to not look at the oh so happy couple that sat a few feet away from you.

The couple that you had thought you and the brunette would somehow end up being, all smiles and giggles, too busy talking to each other to notice how the world around you two turned was never meant to exist.

You had imagined a love like the ones you read in books, such like Mr Darcy and Elizabeth, but you now realised what were written in your favourite books could never be what you longed to have.

You blinked back tears, slowly coming to the clear realisation that Bucky would never love you.

He never did.

note: i hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you would like me to continue, let me know, please remember to reblog, it would mean a lot to me, thank you!

unloving you taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @hamiltonofjakku @dks1ut @wintasssoldier @astronvmyy @hotleaf-juice @meghannnnnn @multifanworld @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @illiteratezee @lightsonnooneshome @ackerfem @sweetwritingfanficfriend @igotmajordaddyissues @wakandabiitch2 @buckyslucky @learisa @geeky-politics-46 @raajali3 @buckybraneslover111 @dammn-dean @lanadelreyismysoul @getwellsoontana @buckys-bunny @arikarapli @fangirling-galore @becauseofboyband @thedragonbornsblog @buckybarnesandmarvel @bubblegumpslump @starwhore27 @paulasocean @latorsgatorz @calwitch @peter1ismybrother @here4thespice @elishi03 @feltonswifesworld87 @valhalla-kristin @roofwitty779 @eclectricpatrolroadlawyer @avery199 @aboobie @dearest-bucky @matchat3a @cjand10 @d3m0nchild @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @spookymicrowave @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @almosttoopizza @iilsenewman @preciouscupcake @ethreal-love (tags are open! fill in my taglist form if you’d like to be tagged)

bucky barnes taglist: @alexxavicry (tags are open! fill in my taglist form if you’d like to be tagged)

steve rogers taglist: - (tags are open! fill in my taglist form if you’d like to be tagged)

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undercoverpena · 10 months

Text

covert celebrations

bucky barnes x f!reader | part five of the birthday bash

summary: blending in. that's what you both were meant to do. then you were on a conference table: Tell me you don’t really think people haven’t fucked on these things, Barnes?

warnings: suggestive, mentions of smut. but no actual. just bucky wishing, because you're both idiots who like one another. bucky pining. wordcount: 2k dedicated to @theashfallx, who adores bucky and i adore her

It’s easy.

That’s what he thinks as he tries to reach for the car door, finding your hand already there. All smug, teeth bare—lipstick still effortlessly in place.

I’ve got it, Barnes.

That had been easy. Now you’re torturing him.

Earlier, less than thirty minutes ago—your fingers were in his hair. His tongue lapped the taste of champagne from your lip as your thighs—bare, soft and incredible—were on either side of his hips.

It hadn’t been his idea to hide in the conference room. Your frame jumping up onto it, curling your finger to beckon him.

Blend in.

That’s what you’d said anyway. Words leave your tongue tinged with sin, eyes darker than the deepest black holes.

Tell me you don’t really think people haven’t fucked on these things, Barnes?

Your dress, all silk, red—little to the imagination left, hugging and clinging to your skin. His fingers, both metal and flesh, slide over your hip, ruching the fabric until he feels your thighs and can snap the feeble thing you called underwear from between your legs.

He knows you aren’t innocent, but when your eyes widen in that way when he does close in on you—he can allow himself some pretence. Them staring at him in awe, like he’s a piece of art, something shaped to be admired—and not instead, turned into a weapon.

You don’t let him descend. Looping fingers around his wrist, pulling him that much closer as he marries his mouth to yours.

180 seconds.

That’s all that’s needed.

Your teeth grazed across his stubble, writing in scarlet all across his cheek. His head turning, capturing your mouth, sliding his tongue past your teeth. He kisses you like he has wanted to since movie night—when you’d sat so close, he could only smell your perfume. Bucky makes up for lost time, for all the moments he’s allowed to slip through his fingers.

Running his metal fingers up your calf, over your knee, digging his thumb in as he brings it up your thigh—tasting your groan. Letting it fall down his throat and ignite his heart.

You crack him. You weave past the layers he’s spent time and therapy building—he wonders if that’s why the two of you work so well together. You see through it all, not caring for why it’s there or why he needs to build them up.

Now, he’s in the passenger seat, and you’re behind him.

The conference table is a distant memory, one interrupted. His fingers massaging the bridge of his nose, desperate to hide the memory.

He tries to listen as you paint a more innocent version of the event to Steve. The USB drive moving between your fingers, the streetlights catching your nail varnish as Steve occasionally asks questions pertaining only to how you both acquired the intel.

Bucky only watches your hand—how it had slid between the two of you, cupping him, both of you moaning in unison—

“You sure you weren’t seen, Buck?”

He swallows. Feeling two pairs of eyes on him. One digging in, one lightly brushing over, likely accompanied by a smirk.

“Yeah. Undetected.”

When they reach the compound, the first thing he thinks of is a shower. Cold. Ice cold. A need to alleviate the tension, the one tripling in his bones as he sweeps his eyes over you.

Wondering if you’ll buy him wanting an early night. If you’ll let him slink off, hide. Allow him the chance to try and forget how nice your lips felt against his, how your pulse felt under his finger, and how you moaned his name.

James.

Not Bucky. Not Barnes.

Fuck, James.

He has no such luck.

Steve wants to know more as if you hadn’t given a blow-by-blow on the drive back—the city whipping past.

Your heels puncture the floor as you head towards the kitchen.

I need a drink if we’re going to do a reenactment, Rogers.

He smirks, both because you’re right and because you never call him Cap. You don’t care for the shield or the mantle Steve is thrust on. In the same way, you don’t care for much, the whispers or the stares when you purposefully hunt him down to hang out.

“You want one, James?”

He doesn’t suspect you let it slip out. It’s chosen, perfectly picked out to get under his skin as his jaw tightens. Finding innocence stitched into your face, all except your eyes—which are shimmering, swarming with mischievousness and deviance.

He is tempted, though, even if it’ll do nothing. It’ll barely touch the sides—not coming close to taking the edge off. Because he’s tense. More than he has been in a long, long time.

Steve and him fall behind you like guards, rather than your equals. You busy yourself, opening cupboards as you add a bit to the conversation here and there, skirting around the entire conference room situation.

“Look, Rogers. It was a job well done. Your man played his part well,” you say, more matter of fact than needed.

Slipping your feet out of the heels, you kneel on the kitchen counter, reaching higher, grabbing a taller glass.

“Can’t that be enough?”

Steve only folds his arms. “Y’know, you can ask one of us to get you a glass down, right?”

Your smile eclipses the room. He’s sure it has anyway because his world gets a little darker under the brilliance of it.

Briefly, you dare to meet his eye before turning on the counter, the skirt of your dress having risen, showcasing so much skin that he’s sure if he’d left bruises, the room would be able to see them.

He doesn’t spot any, not getting a chance before you land back on the ground.

“I’m good. No one needs saving in here. Well, except Barnes. Should have seen his face when we had to play fake teenagers who can’t keep their hands to themselves.”

He rolls his eyes, because, of course, now is when you choose to mention it.

When he can’t leave, when he’s sitting on a barstool, and Steve is blocking the doorway. With his confused expression being shot towards him, and what can he say? I wanted to kiss her, and she said too, so I did.

Bucky knows it wouldn’t add much, even if it were the truth. He’s not stupid enough to think that everyone doesn’t knows how much he’s wanted to kiss you—and has done for the better part of a few weeks. He’s aware of the pool going about how long it’ll take him.

Because again, he’s not stupid.

Grabbing the carton from the fridge, you pour a glass out a the juice. Steve watching, like a hawk, flicking his gaze from you to him, and he just hopes he doesn’t ask anything more.

Bucky can’t handle it—so close to snapping, unsure if he can even sit through much more of it.

That and the fact he’s also so close to just throwing you over his damn shoulder and slamming you down on his bed. Desperate to pull fabric free, trail his tongue down until he truly tastes you. Needing to have you come on his tongue, his fingers, doing so until you’re pleading for something more from him.

Because you’ve awoken something in him. A part of him he’s been able to keep locked away, tucked behind insecurities and doubt.

“—it was just easier, Steve. Shit. Don’t go all protector now. If movies have taught me anything, fake-making out in rooms definitely out of bounds is the best tactic.”

Blinking, he returns to the room.

Unsure what the fuck he’s missed or why Steve’s jaw is close to snapping. You’re smirking thought against your glass. So, whatever he’s missed, he knows can’t be good—wiping his hand over his face.

He’s never been sure if Steve has a thing for you. In certain moments, he thinks—like you—that he’s just protective, and in others, he thinks there’s a fire behind his eyes.

For one, he is harder on you than he is on the others. He also can be more comforting, more kind. If you think the same, you act oblivious. If you throw anything playful, something considered flirting, it is always to Bucky.

And he catches it every time.

Never sure if you’re doing it because you want to flirt or enjoy getting a rise from him.

In truth, he’s not sure where he stands with you. Always partnered, knowing before the room does what part the two of you will play together—and the two of you always do a good job.

“Can we go to bed, Rogers? We did good. I didn’t have to punch anyone, and Barnes didn’t even show his arm.”

Your eyes meet Bucky’s, and he’s sure he can see how the rest of the night would have gone if they hadn’t been interrupted.

If the footsteps went away from the door. Whether your fingers would have undone his trousers and he’d have pulled your dress up to your thighs. Whether your underwear would be in his pocket and that he’d finally discover how pretty you sounded when he buried his cock in you.

Bucky would have learnt if your legs shake and if your back arches—whether you’d beg him for more or whimper as he told you what a good girl you were.

In a blink, it’s gone—a mere daydream.

“Fine. I’m off to bed,” you announce as you drain the glass. “I don’t know how people do it, prefer to wear an all-in-one and kick some teeth in to steal some information… it is tiring trying to be attractive.”

Placing the glass in the dishwasher, you wipe your lip with your thumb as you meet his eyes again.

A sea of different woulda-shoulda’s appearing. Purposefully holding one another's stare, allowing the masterpiece to paint in between you—Steve, an oblivious observer.

Whatever his friend is thinking, he can’t read it—something flickering and falling away before returning.

“I’ll walk you to your room,” Bucky announces.

Nodding at Steve, hoping it’s enough as he shakes his hand. Pleading, inwardly, for him not to push. To not ask. Please, bud. Don’t. And Steve chews it, knowing there’s more, even as you hand him the drive—the very reason he ended up in a compromising position, to begin with.

Your rooms are near one another. Bucky hadn’t originally liked that they were, finding the sight of you early in the morning when he wasn’t at his strongest, the hardest. When you’re wearing yoga pants and a tiny top, sweat collected in your collarbone, lips smothered in water from your bottle as you wink.

Now, he loves it.

Enjoys the walks back, even if tonight they’re in silence. Your hands swing your heels as you brush a finger against the wall.

“We did good,” you say quietly, looking up at him as he nods. “Well, we always do.”

He smiles briefly, reaching the place where your room is down one corridor and his another.

And he should say something.

But you’re moving towards him, placing a kiss on his cheek—so close to the corner of his lip, he could so easily turn.

He’d have let you do that. Go your separate ways. Remain friends. But, then you whisper:

“Goodnight, James.”

And his hand is around your wrist, keeping you close. Eyes sparkling with stars and the night sky, a flirtatious smile smothering your mouth.

“Yes?”

Bucky thinks of telling you to be quiet, but instead, he tugs, making you fold into him until you’re flush against him.

“Happy Birthday, by the way. Didn't get chance to say, earlier."

Narrowing your eyes, your lips twist into a smirk. Broader. Set to spill into a smile.

"You know my birthday?"

He shrugs, trying to look indifferent.

"I don't tell people my birthday, James."

"You do leave your bag around, though, doll."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you trace your bottom lip with your tongue. "Then you'd know my birthday is tomorrow. So, you have plenty of time to be the first person to wish it to me—especially if you finally stop being a gentleman and come back to my room with me."

He considers it. Growing tired of fighting how he feels—of hiding the levels of how much he cares.

Especially because you’re looking at him with so much lust. So much want. Eyes so dark he can see himself reflecting in them. And it’s that which makes his lips slide over yours. Tongue swiping at your bottom lip, distinctly hearing your heels clatter to the floor before nails find his forearm and the back of his head.

Then it’s all desperate moans and reignited passion. Him walking you backwards until your spine meets the wall, hips rolling into yours as he hears it again—

Low. Discernible between breaths.

James.

More, James. Please.

an: thank you so much for all the love on the birthday bash. i heart you all.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu x reader #marvel x reader

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gayratguy · 1 year

Text

Permanent Vip Experience

-Request for @axeegliter hope you enjoy!-

You had waited years for this, you had been to plenty of Charlie Puth’s concerts before but you had never had an experience like this. You had bucked up for a one of a kind backstage pass to meet Charlie before the concert which promised 20 minutes of a one on one conversation with Charlie! It had cost you thousands but it was so worth it. The day had come, and you had picked the perfect outfit. You arrived an hour before the concert and were led by one of his assistants to a small waiting area. The anticipation was killing you and after thirty minutes the same assistant led you to a door with a whiteboard that had “Mr.Puth” written across it. The assistant opened the door and you were greeted by a mostly undressed Charlie. The rest of his makeup team looked past you as they exited the green room closing the door behind them leaving just Charlie and you. You blushed and looked down at your feet trying to hide the growing tent in your pants. “Sorry I like to get comfortable before each of my shows, I hope you don’t mind.” You shake your head “Thought so why don’t you sit down get comfortable you payed for this after all.” You shuffled over to a small loveseat in the room trying to hide your hardon. Charlie chuckled and plopped himself next to you putting his arm around you. “Hey man it’s alright I want you to get something out of this and I know that any fan who pays this much to see me probably wants to get with me so it’s ok!” You move your hands away from your pants displaying your boner for Charlie. “Damn man you are excited huh” he says as he tightens his grasp on you pulling your head into his armpit as you sneak a sniff of his musk. “Well hey why don’t we make sure you get your money’s worth.” With a devious smile Charlie quickly stands up and drops his underwear and turns towards you with a large 8inch cock drooling pre onto your pants. You don’t have to be told twice, you begin servicing the star as he moans and places a hand behind your head guiding your rhythm. Before too long he pulls you off and orders you to strip and turns you on the couch so your ass is facing him. He kisses the back of your neck before spitting in your hole before beginning to jackhammer you. Before too long you feel his balls tense releasing a torrent of spunk into your ass when you feel something shift. You try to pull off to investigate but find you can’t. “Oh this is my favorite part, get ready to be part of the show dude,” moaned Charlie. You found that your legs had already begun changing shape, becoming wrinkled and ball like as they merged with his sack. You spent so long in awe of what was happening you didn’t notice that your arms had already become nubs on the side of your body as your chest became smooth and cylindrical. Before too long he started to jerk his human sized cock which you were becoming and it felt amazing. You felt your hair fall out as your facial features simplified but you didn’t care you just wanted him to keep stroking you. You closed your eyes and found you couldn’t open them again when you heard Charlie say “oh I’m close man thank you again I love my fans and I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am.” A pressure built in your throat and before too long you felt a high come over you as you shot your load. Buckets of cum spewed out of you as you were left in a daze. You realized you began to shrink down leaving charlie with a now 9inch beer can thick cock. “Thanks dude I don’t think I got your name but I’m sure we’ll have fun together.” He almost immediately began jerking you again.

You started to wonder if this was permanent or not, you felt like you had stuff to get back too but you realized you couldn’t remember what. You again felt the similar high of pleasure pass over you as you shot again. You tried once again to figure out what it was that was missing when you realized you don’t even know you’re name. When you tried to think of something all that came up was “cock”. You also tried to think of your owners name knowing he was someone important but you could only think “Master.” Your thoughts began to slow with each orgasm as you lost the ability to think words as your mind was flooded with ideas of serving your owner cumming and fucking. Charlie collapsed on the soaked love seat as his assistants came back in and began to clean up. He would never know the name of the fan that walked in but he didn’t really care, he knew that no matter who he was he was happier this way.

#cock transformation #cock tf #ctf #inanimate tf #body part tf #body part transformation #celebrity tf #charlie puth #sorry this is so long

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capseycartwright · 1 year

Text

when all is shaken, be my safety

Carla had said that he knew how it was, at that age - except that Eddie didn't know how it was. His defining memories of being eleven, and twelve, when everyone around him were having crushes for the first time, and holding hands, were memories of confusion and isolation. He hadn't understood the appeal, and he hadn't understood why, either.

He understood now, though.

- or, Eddie comes out to Buck.

ao3 link

“You didn’t say anything about your first kiss – or crush.”

It felt like Eddie’s throat was closing up, as Buck’s words washed over him. He had tried his best to avoid contributing to the conversation – and maybe everyone else hadn’t noticed, but apparently Buck had, and Buck was asking. Eddie couldn’t blame him – Buck was a naturally curious guy, and he was also a hopeless romantic, in his own way, and so it made sense that he wanted to know who Eddie’s first crush was, who his first kiss was.

It was just –

Well, it was a conversation that Eddie wasn’t sure how to have with Buck, or anyone else actually. He had barely begun to have the conversation with himself.

Eddie squinted at Buck, the bright early morning sun watery. “Do you want to get a coffee?” he suggested, because Buck had sort of given him the opening, now, and maybe it was about time that Eddie told someone. Buck would be a good place to start – because Buck would be kind about it.

Confusion flashed across Buck’s face, but he nodded, all the same, following Eddie as he bypassed their cars, heading out into the already busy Los Angeles morning. There was a coffee shop around the corner that they all tended to favour – Buck, especially, because they served all sorts of nonsense non-dairy milk – and Eddie knew it had a quiet terrace around back.

They walked – and queued – in silence, Buck practically bristling with anxiety as they headed for a seat. “Eddie, you’re – you’re kind of freaking me out,” Buck admitted, shuffling his chair closer to Eddie as they sat down.

Eddie took a sip of his coffee, letting the coffee settle into his tired, aching bones for a minute before he spoke. “I don’t know where to start,” he admitted, because that was the truth – it was the kind of conversation that didn’t feel as though it had a particular beginning, no sensible starting point. Could he just dive right into it? He wasn’t sure.

It’s not as if he’d done this before. Eddie had tried to have this conversation with himself, in the quiet darkness of his own bedroom, in front of the mirror, when he’d felt a little more brave, but he’d never had the conversation with another person. Not yet.

Buck would be the first.

(That felt fitting, somehow.)

“You can start wherever you’d like to,” Buck reassured, gentle, always gentle, his eyes wide and sincere as he looked at Eddie. Eddie didn’t know how he got lucky enough to have Buck – kind, generous, understanding Buck – as his best friend. He wasn’t going to question whatever power, higher or not, put Buck in his life - he’d just be grateful he had him.

“Carla said, when we were talking about Christopher – and crushes – that you know how it is at that age,” Eddie said, pausing. He remembered being eleven. He didn’t really remember it clearly – because listen, he was thirty-four years old, and time was a thief – but Eddie did remember it because that was the time his friends were starting to have crushes on the girls in their class. His best friend at the time, Noah, had spent every day for a whole week asking Jessica Mackenzie to hold his hand until she had finally relented during Friday recess and held his hand for a whole five minutes. It had made Noah’s entire day, and Eddie had watched on, confused.

He hadn’t really understood the appeal.

That – that was the first time Eddie felt as though there was something fundamentally wrong with him. On reflection – now, especially, as an adult, as a father himself – it was sad to think Eddie had been a child himself the first moment he had felt there was something wrong with him. Children shouldn’t – children shouldn’t feel like there was something wrong with them because they didn’t want to hold someone’s hand.

Buck nodded, still looking concerned.

“I don’t know how it is,” Eddie admitted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t – I don’t know how it is because I didn’t have a crush when I was Christopher’s age. I – I thought maybe it was just that I was just a bit behind my friends, on that front, but, um – I think there’s another reason why I didn’t have crushes on girls the same way my friends did.”

Say it, say it, say it.

Eddie sort of felt like he was yelling, internally – just, say it. It couldn’t be that hard – it shouldn’t be that hard.

“You can trust me with anything,” Buck reassured fiercely, reaching across the small table they were crowded around, stopping just short of touching Eddie’s hand. Eddie was sort of glad of that – he might just crumble if Buck touched him now.

Eddie gave Buck a tiny smile. “I know,” he confirmed. “I – the reason,” he took a deep breath, and another, and another. “The reason I didn’t have crushes on girls the same way that my friends did growing up is because I – I don’t like girls. Or, well – I’m not interested in women,” he corrected himself, because he was a grown man. He could say it. He’d grown a lot more comfortable with the word, in the weeks he’d been saying it - comfortable enough that a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he said it aloud, something a lot like pride beginning to coarse through his veins as he discovered who he really was.

Buck was listening intently, his expression encouraging.

“I’m gay, Buck,” Eddie said, and relief hit him with the force of the freight train as he said it to another person for the first time.

(“I’m Eddie,” Eddie said, his own expression fierce as it was reflected back at him, the yellow lighting of his bathroom hardly the most attractive. But, it felt like a safe space to say it out loud. “I’m thirty-four, and I’m a dad - to the best kid in the world - and I’m a firefighter,” he continued, reeling off all of the things he felt defined him: his son, his career.

Taking a deep breath, Eddie looked at himself carefully - there was a time he looked in the mirror, and he didn’t recognise himself, didn’t feel ownership over the body he inhabited. There was a lot of reasons for that, but this - this was one of them.

“And I’m gay,” Eddie said. The world didn’t come screeching to an end, as he said it - nothing changed, really, except the expression on his own, fierce turning to - relief. He was relieved. Eddie had worried, it wouldn’t feel right, when he said it out loud, but his own expression was proof enough that what he’d been battling with for so long was simply the truth. He was gay. “I’m gay,” he repeated, laughter bubbling up out of his chest as he said it again. The tears in his eyes - they weren’t sad ones. No, no - those were tears of complete and utter relief.

“I’m Eddie Diaz,” he repeated, wiping roughly at his runny nose. “And I’m gay.”)

Buck’s face softened, and he gave Eddie the kind of smile that felt like it had the energy to power half of Los Angeles - bright and brilliant, the same way Buck was. “Thank you, for telling me,” he closed that lingering distance between their hands, giving Eddie’s wrist a gentle squeeze.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told,” Eddie admitted.

“Well,” Buck shifted in his seat. “I’m honoured - to be the first.”

Eddie nodded, glancing down at his sneakers, for a second. They were scuffed, at the toe - not that he was precious about that sort of thing. Buck was, but Eddie never minded - the scuffed toes were just a reminder that he was living his life, truly living it - in ways that he could have only dreamed of a few years previously when the weight of his life felt like it was crushing every last breath out of him, leaving him listless, lifeless, a shell of the person he could be if life had given him a different set of circumstances to work with.

He was better now - really, he was.

“When Carla said that,” Eddie continued. “I just - I couldn’t stop thinking about when I was that age, and how I felt like - like there was something wrong with me,” he admitted, brow furrowing. “I didn’t understand. I was too young to understand, and no one had ever explained that there was - there was more than one option. That I didn’t just have to like girls.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck said, and Eddie’s confusion must have shown on his face. “I’m sorry that the adults in your life let you down like that, Eddie.”

It was Texas - in the 1990s, to boot - and so Eddie wasn’t convinced any of the adults in his life had been too convinced there was another option either. The church, and their state - which, depending on who you asked, were the same - didn’t allow for it.

Still -

Eddie was sorry too.

He wondered sometimes, how life might have been if he had been raised in an environment more accepting of sexualities outside of heterosexual. He didn’t often think about it - because it tended to cause a spiral he wasn’t so sure how to deal with - but sometimes he allowed himself a moment or three to imagine how he might have been if he’d grown up knowing it was okay to be gay, or bisexual, or whatever it was you might be.

In another universe, Eddie hoped, there was a version of himself who knew that acceptance, and peace - and he was happier for it, Eddie hoped.

That wasn’t his universe, though.

“Yeah,” Eddie gave Buck a sad smile. “I am too.”

They were quiet, for a second.

“There’s something else,” Eddie admitted, and this was the bit he’d only recently figured out. If he was honest, he’d known for a long time that he was not straight - even if he didn’t have the words for it. When he looked back, with the benefit of hindsight and a better understanding of the world, Eddie knew that he’d gazed wistfully at Noah at lunchbreaks when he’d started dating Jessica for real, when they were in middle school, not because he was jealous of Noah for dating Jessica - like Eddie had convinced himself he was - but because he was jealous of Jessica for being the one who got to hold Noah’s hand. He had wanted to - and he knew he never would. There was a whole laundry list of moments like that that Eddie could draw a line between, all leading to the same conclusion: he’d always been gay, he just hadn’t been ready to admit it. No, that bit he understood.

This - this was new.

To him, at least.

“You know how, when I dated Ana,” Eddie began, waiting for Buck to nod. As if anyone could forget those painfully awkward few months. “I was never really comfortable with the physical part of our relationship.”

Something sad flashed across Buck’s face. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie said, and maybe it wasn’t, but it had to be - otherwise, he’d probably just dwell on it forever. “I - I thought it was the gay thing,” he gestured vaguely. “It was a bit, the whole, being gay, thing,” he admitted. God - he didn’t know how to say this. “Have you heard of asexuality?” he tried. Maybe he could start there.

Buck nodded. “It’s - it’s when you don’t experience asexuality, right?”

“Yeah - kind of,” Eddie paused. “Not really? I - I’m just learning about it.”

“Tell me,” Buck encouraged. “What you’ve learned, I mean.”

Eddie nodded. “Asexuality is - it’s a spectrum, right? Like sexuality.”

Buck nodded. “Yeah - like, you can be bisexual, like me,” he said, clearly trying his best to understand. Eddie appreciated that. “But I’ve tended to date more women - it doesn’t mean I’m not bisexual. I’ve just - I’ve had more crushes on women. So far, at least.”

Eddie nodded. “Asexuality is like that - it’s a spectrum,” he explained. He’d done a lot of research - he’d have to show Buck all the tabs he’d bookmarked. Buck would be proud. “Some people don’t experience sexual attraction at all, and others do, a bit - it depends, right? The same way everyones sexuality looks different.”

“What does it look like for you?”

Eddie huffed. “You joined up those dots, huh?”

Buck shrugged. “I figured you brought it up for a reason,” he hummed.

“There’s this - there’s something called demisexuality,” Eddie explained. “It’s when you’re only sexually attracted to people you’ve got like - an emotional connection with. I think that’s me - and I think that’s why Shannon was so - was so important to me, because maybe I’m not attracted to women, but we - we had that deep emotional connection, and it made it easier for me to convince myself that she was the one. You know? And I realise now that I - I’d have been denying myself more, for the rest of my life, if we’d stayed together like we planned, because maybe we had that emotional connection, but…”

“You’re gay,” Buck supplied helpfully.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I just - I’m still getting used to the idea of it, you know? Because like - every article I read about coming out when you’re older, and only figuring out you’re gay when you’re an adult is like - telling you to get out, and date, and explore your sexuality.”

“And you don’t want to,” Buck finished for him.

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “I don’t want to - because the idea of ever having sex with someone that I don’t know, and feel safe with, kind of terrifies me.”

“You don’t have to,” Buck said. “You know that, right? You don’t need to have sex with another man to - to validate your sexuality, or whatever.”

“I know,” Eddie said. “But it’s nice to hear it from someone else.”

“I,” Buck paused, scraping back his chair. “I’m going to hug you now,” he informed, looking terribly serious.

Eddie loved him.

“Okay,” Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, standing up too. “You don’t need to ask permission.”

“I know,” Buck said, and he scooped Eddie into his arms in that same way he always did, his arms strong around Eddie’s back as Buck held him close, his best friends face tucked into the groove of Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie pressed his face into the soft material of Buck’s t-shirt, the soft, powdery smell of his fabric conditioner familiar - they used the same one, after all, so they could buy it in bulk.

Eddie breathed in, and out, slowly counting to ten and back. It had been sort of overwhelming, to tell Buck - well, everything.

“Thank you,” Buck said. “For trusting me.”

Eddie nuzzled his face into Buck’s shoulder a little more. He didn’t care that they were in public. “Thank you,” he hummed.

“For what?”

Eddie let out a breath it felt like he’d been holding for his entire adult life. “For always making me feel safe.”

And that was the point of it all, really. Buck had, from the moment they’d become friends, created a space so safe for Eddie, and for Christopher, that it felt inevitable that Eddie would finally come to terms with all the things he’d been avoiding for as long as he could remember - Shannon, the army, his family, his sexuality - and Buck had carved out a place where Eddie had felt comfortable to do that, all because he had Buck to rely on.

He couldn’t quite articulate how much it meant.

Buck’s grip tightened, in a way that should have felt suffocating, but only made Eddie relax more, comfort and safety sinking deep into his bones. “Thank you,” Buck returned, and Eddie didn’t need to be able to see his best friends face to know Buck was crying. He could hear it, in the way Buck’s voice cracked a little as he spoke.

Eddie wasn’t worried, though - he knew Buck would explain all the reasons for the way he’d been acting these last few months, once he was ready to.

“For what?” Eddie hummed.

Buck was quiet, for a second. “For giving me a family, Eddie.”

And, well -

Eddie couldn’t argue. That was what he’d been trying to do for years, after all.

They broke apart, Buck wiping roughly at his eyes, shaking his head. “You’re the one who just came out, and here I am - crying. I feel like you should be crying.”

Eddie was quiet, for a second. “I don’t feel like crying about it,” he admitted. “Because I’m not scared, or upset about it - not anymore. I feel…”

He trailed off.

“I feel free,” Eddie admitted. “For the first time in my life - I feel completely free.”

“Oh God, you’re going to make me cry again,” Buck was blinking furiously. “I’m going to start sobbing in his coffee shop, and it’s all your fault.”

Eddie laughed, nabbing his coffee from the table. “Come on, you big crybaby,” he teased. “Let’s go home.”

Buck nodded, pausing to pick up his own coffee before he slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, guiding them back out onto the street. “So,” he hummed. “What next?”

Eddie grinned up at his best friend. “I have absolutely no idea.”

And he couldn’t fucking wait.

fin.

#911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #6x08 was the most queer coded ep in a long while #and so this has been marinating in my brain all week #its also terrifying to post so you know. enjoy

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winchesterandpie · 2 years

Text

Lovin' Feelin': Asking you to be his girlfriend

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x wife!reader

Word Count: 1011

Warnings: highly self-indulgent, bad puns, fluff, and messing with Hangman and the other aviators

A/N: Good evening, aviators! This is your author speaking! We're back with another helping of Bradley and his wife messing with Hangman. I have three ideas for the eventual reveal and I think I'm going to write all of them. I also have several other ideas for this, so I'll probably keep revisiting this as inspiration strikes. Let me know if you have any ideas for fun bets, and I'll see about writing them! Enjoy!

Lovin' Feelin' Masterpost

“Thirty bucks says you won’t ask her to officially be your girlfriend.”

“By when?”

“End of tonight.”

“Tonight? Come on, Hangman, she isn’t even in town today. Give me a week,” Rooster bargained. He wasn’t technically lying, but you were returning tonight from visiting your friend. “She deserves something good.”

Hangman caved quickly. “Fine. But only because you two are so perfect together.” After three months of the two of you “dating,” even Hangman couldn’t help but notice how happy the two of you were together. It was fitting, then, that your unofficial callsign had become Sunshine.

That didn’t stop him from teasing Rooster for the amount of time he spent smiling at his phone.

“Alright, one week.”

“One week.”

“See you tomorrow, Bagman.” Rooster shook his head at the other pilot, turning away toward his car. He couldn’t wait to tell you about the newest bet. You had had a “first” kiss, a meet the team, and many smaller agreements. Hangman made most of the bets, seemingly trying to progress your relationship, but he was far from the only one. Bob had been surprisingly creative with some of his. All together, they had funded quite a few dates for the two of you.

The engine roared to life, but it didn’t cover the sound of his phone ringing. He grinned when he saw the caller ID.

“Your ears burning?” he asked when he answered the call.

“No,” you replied, and he could hear your smile in your voice. “Should they be?”

“Hangman made another bet.”

“Oh? What’s this one?”

“Asking you to be my girlfriend.”

“Wow, you’re planning on backing out of our marriage.”

He laughed, putting the Bronco in drive. “You caught me. I wish it didn’t have to be this way, sweetheart.” That pulled a laugh from you, and he drank in the sound. “Are you home yet?”

“Yeah, I just walked in the door.”

“How was your flight?”

“Not as fun as the flights you take me on, but everything went smoothly.”

“That’s good.” Bradley grinned at the memory of your most recent flight together in Maverick’s P-51 Mustang.

“How was your day?”

“It was good. We got to give some rookie pilots the runaround. I’ll have to tell you about it tonight.”

“Ooh, I can order takeout?”

“Perfect. I’ll be home in twenty.”

“See you in twenty. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

A week later, you were pulling up to the beach with Bradley and your face of surprise was ready. He slid his arm around your shoulders as you waved to his teammates. They greeted you like they didn’t know what was going down, but you knew better. Bradley hadn’t told you all the details, but he had told you that he had pulled the other pilots into whatever he was scheming.

You realized his plan was going into effect when the campfire burned low and the marshmallows came out. There were too many marshmallows being burnt. Hangman, you could believe as someone without the patience to brown a marshmallow properly, and a few of the others as well, but all of them? There was no way. There was the additional suspicion from no one letting you get ahold of a roasting stick, despite you reaching for one on more than one occasion.

“Here.” Bradley came to your rescue with a s’more already assembled.

“You are my new favorite person.” You grinned, reaching for the treat but he pulled it back.

“New? I wasn’t before?”

“Well, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend,” you teased, shrugging innocently. Alright, you may have done it intentionally to goad him into showing his hand.

“About that,” he trailed off, and despite your knowledge, you furrowed your brow in acted confusion.

“What? Are you…”

He stepped closer to you, offering the s’more again. “I’d like to see s’more of you.” You didn’t even let him finish before you were doubled over and cackling.

“That’s the best you’ve got?” Jake cried out, sounding like he was almost in pain on your husband’s behalf. "Sunshine deserves better!"

“You had a week and that’s it?” Tash chimed in.

You were leaning your weight into him now, still unable to stop laughing at the terrible line.

“Hold up, he hasn’t even asked her yet!” Reuben caught Jake’s hand before he could hold out the cash.

“And you would have robbed me blind?” Jake sounded even more offended as he gestured at Bradley’s hand outstretched for the money. You were already laughing, so you didn’t need to hide your snort at how little he really knew.

“Alright, alright, will the peanut gallery shut up?” Bradley shook his head, helping you back upright with a fond sigh. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I… I really like you.”

“I really like you too,” you replied earnestly, then took a bite of your s’more. “Mostly for the s’mores.” He chuckled, dropping his head as his neck reddened.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he finally got the question out, his free hand coming up to the side of your face.

“Yes,” you answered immediately, closing the distance to kiss him amid cheers from the other pilots.

“Now you’re stuck with the man with the worst line I’ve ever heard,” Javy teased when you broke apart. “And I’ve heard all of Hangman’s lines.”

“I still can’t believe you made me give you a week only to disappoint.” Jake slipped the money into your husband’s back pocket before smacking his butt.

“Mmm, you think you could’ve come up with something better?”

“Oh I know I could. But this just gives me more stories for when I’m inevitably the best man at your wedding.”

You just grinned, leaning into your husband’s shoulder as you wondered, not for the first time, how they would react when they found out you two were already married. Bradley looked over at you, the spark of mischief in his eyes overshadowed by a tenderness reserved for very few. Sure, you rolled your eyes at his sometimes terrible lines, but you wouldn’t trade him for anything.

Lovin' Feelin' Taglist (I think I got everyone, but if not, shoot me a message):

@red-ace-in-space @ohh-to-be-a-frog @alana4610 @mirandastuckinthe80s @partofmejustwantstosleep @rosiahills22 @alanadetigy @natasharomanoffisbaebby @havaneselover08 @jules-1999 @katiemcrae @lttlemer @hufflepufftruffle @heavanskitchen @roses-and-grasses @littlehippies-world

Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist for this universe of fics!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster #jake hangman seresin #hangman #top gun #top gun maverick

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the-likesofus · 1 year

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color me in, make me your own

9-1-1 on Fox | buddie | 1k words | established relationship, marriage proposal, sidewalk chalks

I have spent all day feeling like I wanna vibrate out of my skin so I wrote this as a distraction. Have some soft boys in love xx

Read on AO3

The chalks were for Chris. Buck had brought them online and had them sent to Eddie’s house while they were in isolation. He had thought they might be a fun way for Chris to keep himself occupied while he was stuck at home and couldn’t go to school or hang out with any of his friends. Eddie and Buck had sat squished in next to each other on the couch watching Chris open the packet via video call and the bright grin Chris had flashed them as he excitedly babbled about all the cool things he was going to draw had been enough to ease the desperate ache in Eddie’s chest, if only briefly.

Post pandemic the chalks had been lost to the back of the cupboard as trips to the park and the zoo had taken priority. This week though, Chris has been stuck at home with the chickenpox and the chalks have served as a great distraction from the near-constant itching.

Eddie has always hated any time he and Buck end up on different shifts, especially since they started dating, but he has to admit it has worked in their favor in this case. Knowing that Buck can be at home with Chris has certainly eased Eddie’s conscience and the near-constant updates and photos Buck has been sending while Eddie he is at the firehouse have eased the pang of being away from his partner and his sick kid.

He knew to expect the chalks before he even left the station, having seen them featured in most of the pictures from that afternoon but finding Buck sat out on the footpath by himself is a surprise.

“Hey!” Buck greets him as Eddie gets out of his truck. “Chris is inside taking a nap, he finally wore himself out.”

Eddie drops his bag on the lawn and crouches to kiss Buck hello. He hums against his lips, savoring the sweet taste of his boyfriend soaked in the late afternoon sunshine.

“Rough shift?” Buck asks as Eddie finds a blank spot on the pavement to sit nearby without smearing the carefully drawn images that decorate the footpath.

“It wasn’t that bad. Mostly run-of-the-mill calls.” Eddie shrugs and reaches out a hand. Buck meets him in the middle, passing him one of the pieces of orange chalk and Eddie starts absentmindedly doodling small shapes next to his feet. “Oh, but we did have one cat-up-a-tree call, and when we go there the caller literally had about thirty or forty cats roaming around.”

“Oh, Bobby would have had a field day.” Buck laughs.

“Yeah, the place stank. Animal control had to be called. Chim had kittens stuffed into every pocket of his turnout.”

Buck passes Eddie a green chalk while he asks for the orange one in exchange. Eddie passes it to him and shuffles around to find another patch of empty concrete. The movement puts his back to Buck but he leans against his side and kisses his shoulder briefly before turning back to his work in progress.

They work in comfortable quiet for a while before Buck pipes up again and Eddie can almost guess what he’s about to ask before he even says it.

“Do you know which shelter they took them all to?” Bingo.

“No, Buck. We are not getting another cat.”

Buck turns around to grin at him in that cheeky way of his that’s one step away from puppy eyes and begging. “You said that last time.”

Eddie sighs and waves his hand dismissively. “Yeah, well. Cosmo needed a friend and Hulk was so small, I couldn’t just leave him at the shelter.”

“You mean you couldn’t say no to Chris?”

“Yeah, well you taught him that face and you know I can't say no to it. You can’t either.” Eddie sighs, His small collection of stick figures and lopsided cartoon animals look like a kindergartener drew them next to Christopher’s many detailed pieces. He adds his chalk back to Buck’s pile, stands, and brushes his palms off on his work pants, leaving smears across the thighs. “Speaking of, he’ll be awake and hungry soon so I’ll go check on him.”

He presses a kiss to the soft curls at the crown of Buck’s head—loose and gel-free, just how Eddie prefers them—and turns towards their front door only to be stopped in his tracks by the brightly colored rainbow lettering that has appeared in front of Buck, each letter carefully drawn in clear broad strokes.

WILL YOU MARRY ME?

Below is an image depicting three figures holding hands and two pointy-eared and long-tailed blobs that could only be Cosmo and Hulk. It is just as carefully and lovingly drawn as the words above and Eddie cannot even begin to describe the warm feeling that is bubbling up inside him.

“Ah, Christopher actually drew the picture. He said he wanted to help and that I would get it wrong.” Buck ducks his head bashfully while Eddie’s heart feels like it's about to leap out of his chest.

“Buck.”

“I have a ring,” Buck adds quickly, glancing up at Eddie’s, no-doubt, stricken face. “I mean, not on me, it's inside but–”

Eddie doesn’t give him a chance to finish as he pushes Buck back against the footpath—chalk dust be damned—and seals his mouth against Buck’s firmly. He kisses him deeply and brushes his hands up Buck’s sides to fist into his t-shirt and when he pulls away he leans their foreheads together he breathes heavily, watching the way Buck’s eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones which are stained with a vibrant pink that matches the smear of chalk adorning his chin.

“Yes.” Eddie breathes out between planting a kiss to one of Buck’s cheeks and then the next. “Yes.”

Buck grins up at him, all teeth and pure joy and then they’re both laughing, and Eddie sinks down to wrap his arms around Buck’s shoulders and bury his face in his neck as he breathes him in, content to ignore nosey neighbors and passing cars as they lay plastered together on their front walk-up. Buck’s arms wrap tightly around his back and one hand finds its way into Eddie’s hair, pressing his face closer as Buck drops a kiss to the side of his head and whispers in his ear. “I love you.”

Eddie lets out a wet chuckle and mouths at Buck’s throat. “I love you too. I’m gonna marry the hell out of you.”

Buck laughs, so deep it rumbles through Eddie’s chest where they are pressed together and he cannot help but squeeze him tighter and laugh with him.

#buddie #buddie fic #buck x eddie #911 fox #911 fic #meegs writes stuff #just having one of those days #writing this helped make it better #eddie diaz #evan ‘buck’ buckley #established buddie #marriage proposal #soft boys in love

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winter-leftovers · 8 months

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Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter Four: To Catch a Changeling (4/?)

(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)

Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.

Chapter Summary: Y/n visit Douxie’s library

Word count: 1902

Warnings: no!

(Season 1 Episode 7)

Song?: Crush by Tessa Violet

Previous — Next

Masterlist

“You look like shit” Randy hit the counter with some papers distracting Y/n from her computer.

“I feel like shit” Y/n closed the seventeen tabs she had opened looking for information about Killahead, all useless “I haven’t been sleeping well”

They shared a look for awhile. Y/n rolled her eyes. She knew her coworker very well by now. There was only one reason why he didn’t interrogated about her sleeping schedule: he needed something

“What do you want, Randy?” Y/n looked back at the computer, a picture of a rat eating a fry stared back at her.

“Okay, remember my idea of a battle of bands?” He didn’t give her time to answer “Well, I need to help to set it up and I know you are a musical genius so your input would be much appreciated and I won’t be able to do it without you…”

“Aha” She cut him off “Would I get paid?” She raised a brow.

“Yes! And…and the free afternoon right now so you can sleep”

“Wow! you really want me to help” she started to pick up her stuff before he could change his mind.

“Great! Thank you! Here, have flyer”

She took the piece of paper. The colorful flyer made her smile.

Randy always loved music. She remembered when his mother told her the story of how Randy had threatened to steal a guitar if she didn’t buy him one. Music was everything to him and he saw the same emotion in Y/n when they met. She always loved music, even before she could remember.

When she was six, Barbara took her to school for the first time and there, on music class, she touched a guitar for the first time and it felt like coming home.

Y/n doesn’t remember her biological parents but as a kid she liked to think that they loved music as much as she did but, as she grew, she stopped thinking about her biological parents and at seventeen she stopped playing completely until last year. Three months into college she got lost, hopeless. She didn’t like what she was studying and didn’t know what she wanted to do. One weekend, while visiting her family, Y/n heard a piano. Someone was trying to tune a piano and awfully failing. She felt like the strings were calling for her, asking her to end its misery.

Entering the music store she had spent too many hours browsing back in high school she saw two guys not much older than her debating if that is how the key was supposed to sound.

“It’s really not” Y/n got close to inspect their work.

“Hello? You need help looking for something?” The man with the long blonde hair asked.

“You’re doing a shitty job” she pointed to the man with his finger in the key.

“No shit. I don’t know I’m doing” he laughed.

She looked back and forth between them.

‘Maybe I can make a quick buck’ she thought.

“How much for tuning it?” She crossed her arms.

The blonde man looked at his watch and back to his friend and said:

“I’ll give you twenty bucks to tune it in half an hour”

Y/n laughed

“It can take up to two hours to tune it after god knows what you did”

“Hour and a half for thirty bucks”

“Forty five minutes and sixty dollars” she stretched her hand.

“Fifty”

“Deal” They shook hands.

She took her jacket off and started to work.

“I’m Y/n”

“Randy” the blonde said.

Tuning the piano made her feel something she thought lost, the feeling of home and she’ll always be grateful to Randy for that.

“Hello, Y/n”

“Hey, Douxie! How are you?”

“I’m fine. How about you?” He looked concerned.

Y/n knew she wasn’t looking her best. No one would be after the night she had.

“Oh, this awful eye bags? Courtesy of my little brother” she laughed.

“I didn’t know you had a brother”

“Yeah, he is still in high school. How about you? Got any siblings?”

“Nah, it’s just me and Archie” he point to the window of the library where a black cat was grooming himself.

“Oooh he is so cute” Y/n crouched down in front of the window.

Archie meowed and rubbed himself on the window as a response, melting Y/n’s heart.

“Don’t feed his ego too much. He’s a total diva”

Y/n laughed “I thought the guy with groupies would be the diva”

Douxie blushed.

She chuckled. She thought guys like Douxie didn’t blush.

“Are you jealous, love?”

Now it was Y/n’s time to blush.

They stood there, smiling at each other. Y/n found Douxie so intoxicating: his hazel eyes, his blue hair, that smile that brought her down to her knees. Even though they saw each other a few times, she was enchanted by him the first time.

“Would you like to say hi to him…you know…without the glass” Douxie broke the silence. He seemed nervous.

“That would be nice” she smiled.

Douxie opened the door to the library, the smell of books, tea and something else filled her lungs making her warm inside.

The moment she stepped inside, Archie rubbed himself between Y/n legs, stealing her attention from the beautiful library.

“Hello, sweet boy” she sat on the floor to pet Archie more comfortably.

“He likes you” said Douxie. He was leaning against one of the few walls that wasn’t covered in books “He isn’t usually that nice, you know”

Y/n swears she saw Archie roll his eyes but assumed her tiredness was playing tricks with her.

“He seems super nice to me” she rubbed Archie’s cheek and he let himself fall onto her hand.

“Oh, don’t let him trick you. He has a temper”

They both laughed and shared a look. The power Douxie has on her made her crazy. Ever since the day they met at Benoit’s, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Every time she saw him she would stare at him like if she moved her eyes he would disappear.

“Battle of the bands? Are you entering the contest?” Douxie pointed to the flyer long forgotten on the floor.

“No, I’m just helping set it up. Are you interested?”

“Yes, I have a band…”

“Oh! Ash dispersal pattern, right? Randy is a big fan” she tried to play it cool. She couldn’t tell him that she knows most of his songs by heart “I heard some of your songs. You’re good”

She saw a red tint in his cheeks and this time, she was sure her tired brain wasn’t playing tricks on her.

“Thank you” he scratched the back of his neck “I heard you play the piano you have at the store. I thought you’ll enter”

“Mmmh, I’ve played since I’m kid but I don’t think I’m good enough to enter. I’m helping cuz Randy asked” she looked at Archie, he was belly up between her legs, napping.

“What?! I heard you at the store! You’re nuclear!” Douxie crouched next to her.

Y/n turned her head and looked at him “You think?”

With Douxie so close the world seemed to slow down. They were the only people in the world. Their faces just inches apart. So close that a small breeze could change everything.

“Of course” He smiled

The door opened and the world was no longer theirs. Douxie stood as fast as he could and assisted the customer.

Y/n looked down at Archie, who was already looking at her and smiled. Her face was so hot that she thought it would explode.

She yawned and Archie mirrored, the last of her energy left with Douxie.

“Sorry, Archie but I have to go” she stood up and petted his head one last time “Maybe I’ll see you later. Tell Douxie I said goodbye”

—

Y/n fell on her bed like a bag of sand. Her body gave into sleep before she could take her shoes off.

When she opened her eyes, she was in a forest. Civilisation was nowhere to be seen. The air smelled fresh, familiar.

She kneeled in one of the trees and saw a heart with H written inside. A smile erupted from her chest. She mindlessly caressed the indentation, trying to remember something, someone, but she just couldn’t reach it. Only finding a warmth feeling in her chest.

“Y/n! Where are you?” A man’s raspy voice distracted from the tree “Come home, little bird”

A sword made of sadness and forge by loneliness stabbed her chest. Her eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t know where I am” she whispered as a tear fell down her face, burgundy streaks of light surrounded her. Electricity ran through her body burning her fingertips and heart.

She looked at her hands, they were surrounded by red smoke.

Y/n woke up covered in sweat, her heart was racing but she felt fully rested. She looked at her hands and when she saw no red smoke, she relaxed.

Outside the sun had already set. She looked through her phone to see if her brother or mom had sent a text. Jim sent her a text telling her about her study date with Claire. She smiled. Jim had a crush on this girl from his class for a while now and apparently it was going somewhere. She wished him luck even if hours had passed. When she went to answer a text from Randy Toby called.

She couldn’t understand what he was saying, only the words: changeling and dental hygienist.

“Ok, Tobes I’m on my way”

Y/n jumped out of bed and drove as fast as she could to Dr. Muelas office. She would probably get a lot of tickets but she didn’t care. Knowing what she knows now, she couldn’t risk disregarding a call from Jim or Toby.

“Toby? Jim?” She screamed as she followed the sound of struggle.

She got to the door and saw her brother stabbing a troll followed by a flashing blue light.

“There goes proof” said Aaaargh!.

“Oh, my gosh! She’s in my mouth!” Toby coughed. The troll’s ashes were everywhere.

Y/n couldn’t move.

“Oh no! I killed our only evidence of a changeling in Arcadia” Jim pulled his armour off.

“And my dental hygienist” Toby screamed.

Y/n laughed. Toby could make her laugh even on her worst days.

“You finished the fight, Master Jim, and in self defense, for that matter. Vendel may continue to have his doubts but we continue to have our lives. A fair bargain, I’d say” Blinky tried to comfort him.

“He’s right, Jim” Y/n grabbed his brother by the shoulders trying to make sure her eyes didn’t deceive her and he was ok.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Toby called”

“And just out of curiosity, what are you doing in Toby’s dentist office?” Jim looked at the trolls.

“I thought it was possible that danger may come to either of you should you cross paths with the wrong changeling. So, we followed Tobias as a precaution” explained Blinky

Aaaargh! Fell from the ceiling making Y/n jump.

Blinky started talking about how he was curious about human’s oral hygiene but Y/n didn’t listen. She was more worried about dusting the troll off her brother before getting to her car.

A/n: 👀

#douxie x reader #tales of arcadia #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux x reader #trollhunters #toa #my writing #Til The End Of Eternity

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