"Your Left Foot Is Not Going Between My Legs." (x)

Pete maverick Mitchell x lieutenant! reader

Author's note: Hey guys! I know this is such a random story. I'm gonna be honest, originally this was gonna be my fluff fanfic but I realized a shorter one would fit better. But I still liked this one so much that I decided to make it a whole different story. I hope you enjoy it! It's a bit of a longer one.

No warnings! Just cussing, kissing and super cute maverick x reader at the end. and y/n is used! No word count, I did proofread it but I would not be surprised about any types. My apologies in advance!Not 100% accurate to the movie (Phoenix is a back seater, young maverick but in the sense of the second movie)

Summary:

You’ve always admired Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell from afar, you know him because your brother was his back seater, but you never expected to get close to Maverick. When he's assigned as the new flight instructor at Top Gun, you find yourself working side by side learning more every day with the legendary pilot. Getting closer through shared flights and training exercises you fall for him more and more each day, does he feel the same?

You are one of the 12 pilots that were called back for a mission. The pilots had a little get together at the hard deck yesterday, now you're meeting your instructor.

You and Phoenix are the only female graduates returning for the big mission. Yeah sure being called back for it really raised your ego. But the mission is to destroy an unauthorized uranium enrichment facility, not that you think you can't do it. But this mission is described as the scariest mission any aviator could be put on.

So whether you go on this mission or not is up to you and you've fully decided that you are going on this mission, with Phoenix as your back seater of course.

You guys walk into the meeting area and sit at your desk next to Fanboy and Payback. "Hi y/n" Bob smiles at you "Hi bob. How is-" You're cut off by Cyclone "Everybody please take a seat." He clears his throat.

You sit by Phoenix and look up to see Warlock and Cyclone. "The pilots sitting in front of me were called back to Top gun because you guys are the elite. The best of the best." Warlock says.

"Damn straight." Hangman says earning a chuckle from the team. " We no longer have the technological advantage, for this mission, success now more than ever comes down to the man or woman in the box." Hangman looks at you and Pheonix and you put your middle finger up on the side of your head. Bates clears his throat.

"Today you will be introduced to your new instructor, he is a Top Gun graduate with real world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master. His exploits are legendary, and he is considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you they very well mean the difference between life and death." Admiral Bates says. You all turn around to look at the instructor. Holy shit it's Maverick. You've always felt a little something for him.

"I give you Captain Pete Mitchell. Callsign, Maverick." They step away as Maverick takes their spot. "Good morning" he says looking over the squad. But when he looks at you, you guys make direct eye contact and he gives you a smile.

He talks about what trainings will look like and you guys are dismissed. You and Phoenix are walking down the hall and she looks around to make sure nobody is around. "So what the hell was that about? She asks "what?"

"You were basically drooling over him y/n oh my gosh." She laughs "Didn't he work with your brother? Is he not too old for you?" Thinking about it, he's not too old for you. He's just 2 years older.

"Yeah, they did work together, but he's younger than Nick so Mav is closer to my age than he is." You say

"Wow nicknames already? Just marry the guy y/n." She teases. "There's no way he would ever go for me. The second Penny knows he's back at North Island she'll come running back." You sigh

"Who's gonna come running back?" You hear from down the hall "Holy shit. Uh- um no one." Your eyes widen as Phoenix gives you a smirk.

"Alright well training starts at 1. I'll see you later." He walks away. "There's no way he didn't hear me say that about Penny." You say turning around towards Phoenix and she laughs at you.

You and Phoenix are in the air with Fanboy and Payback, and Hangman.

"Good afternoon aviators, welcome to basic fighting maneuvers, as briefed today's exercise consists of dogfighting, guns only no missiles. You do not go below the hard deck of 5,000 feet. Working as a team you must shoot me down or else.. "Or else what, sir?" Payback asks "Or else I shoot back, If I shoot any of you down, you both lose."

"This guy needs an ego check." Hangman says "So what do you say we put some skin in to the game?" Payback says. "What do you have in mind?"

"Whoever gets shot down first has to do 200 pushups." Payback suggests "Guys, that's a lot of pushups." Mav replies

"Well they don't call it an exercise for nothing, sir." Fanboy adds. "You got yourselves a deal gentlemen, ladies you good with that?" He asks you guys. You chuckle "Alright yeah, let's turn and burn." You say.

"Fanboy do you see him?" Payback asks "Nothing on my radar, must be somewhere behind us." You guys are right next to each other, very little space between your planes. Suddenly Maverick comes in between.

"Shit!" You yell. He flies up further and circles back. "Tally Tally Tally!" Phoenix says "Mavericks coming in break left y/n!" You hear from Fanboy. "Y/n where are you!" Payback asks. "I'm coming I'm coming." You say heading towards him. "Payback break right." You tell him to and he does, getting out of Mavericks clear shot. "Y/n just saved your asses guys, but it's gonna cost her." Maverick says heading for you.

"Fuck! Y/n what's your plan?" Phoenix says tapping the glass indicating that maverick is right there. "Trust me he's not getting us." You say. He's right behind you and your plan was to go up and circle behind, but instead you go further down. "Y/n you're too low!! You're hitting the hard deck" Payback yells "Altitude, Altitude, Altitude." The alarm sound blares "Oh shit!" You immediately pull back up, giving Maverick a clear shot.

"That's a kill." He says. Fuck, you let your team down. And now you owe pushups.

"Down 120, Down 121..." Your arms burn as you do your pushups, goddammit you still have 80 to go. Phoenix, Payback, and Fanboy are watching from the window. "That should be us down there." Fanboy says. "Yeah but it's not, and now you know a little something about y/n, she'll do anything for her team." Phoenix smiles looking down at you.

"Yeah she's one stubborn girl. But she won't ever let you guys down or leave a wingman behind I know that's for sure." Maverick says from behind them. "Hey so what's up with you guys? Are you a thing, sir?" Fanboy asks but Phoenix elbows him. "Sorry?" Mav says, Fanboy clears his throat "Nothing sir, my apologies." He says walking away.

You've just finished the day and as you shut your locker you find Maverick behind you. "Holy shit." You get scared by his sudden appearance, you clear your throat. "Excuse me, sir" you say trying to walk around. He grabs your arm

"Hey wait" he turns you to look at him. You make eye contact and you can feel your cheeks burning red. "I wanted to let you know that your team appreciates what you do for them, that from today and just in general. I appreciate you." He says and he gives you a smile. You can feel butterflies in your stomach but you can do nothing more than just smile. "Oh, thank you." You chuckle, you realize his hand has been on your shoulder this whole time. His hand moves up to your face to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I'll see you tomorrow, y/n." He says and then walk away. You make your way down the hallway to leave. What the fuck just happened?

The next few days of training is more dogfighting. Same rules, you die, you owe pushups. Throughout the day nobody has been able to get a kill on Maverick, you're hoping to today. You're in the air with Hangman, Bob and Phoenix. Out of nowhere Maverick comes in between you.

"Greetings aviators, fights on." He says

"Break right y/n" Hangman yells and you do except he goes the other way. Maverick follows you instead of Hangman. "Fuck, where's he going?" Bob asks. "That's why we call him hangman, he always hangs you out to dry." You groan trying to get Maverick off your tail.

"Leaving your wingman. That's a strategy I haven't seen in a while." Maverick says looking in Hangman's direction. "He just called you a man y/n, you gonna take that?" Hangman chuckles "So long as he doesn't call you a man." You say taking a sharp turn to try and get away.

"Talk to me Bob where's Maverick?" You ask "Jeez! His nose is already coming back." He says looking back at him "Get him off me Hangman!" You yell

"For all you folks at home, this is how you bury a fossil." Hangman says trying to shoot Maverick down.

"Alright Hangman, time to teach you a lesson." Mav says circling back. "You're out y/n" he says. "Son of a bitch!" You yell smacking the dashboard. You hear Phoenix and Bob sigh but they tell you it's not your fault. Very soon Hangman is dead too. You know after hearing "that's a kill."

"Down 78, Down 79..."

"Y/n shouldn't be down here again" Bob says while doing pushups. "Well I wonder why she is." Hangman grunts

"Maybe cause I don't leave my team, bagman." You say, from the corner of your eye you can see Maverick chuckling from your comment. "That's funny, Maverick said the same thing yesterday." Phoenix says. You don't respond, but you're just thinking about it. Maverick talking about you?

Next day's training is the last day for this situational dogfight. But today it's just you and Hangman in the air. "Y/n I have a question, what's up with you and Maverick?"he asks, bringing flush to your cheeks again just at the thought of it. "Nothing hangman." You say clearing your throat. Maverick comes up and initiates the fight. You grunt and immediately get at it and follow Maverick.

"What is with these two?" Hangman says just watching you guys. You're just going further and further down, you're past the hard deck and just circling with Maverick. "Let's get it over with y/n, your strategy is about to run us into the ground what's your move?" He asks

"You can bail out anytime." You say looking him straight in the eyes. "Pull up, pull up! Pull up, pull up!" You hear from the alarm system. Maverick grunts and pulls up. You do so too. "C'mon you got it, now don't think just do." He encourages you.

"C'mon y/n you got it, just drop down and take the shot!" You hear Hangman say. You're going to, but it's too low. "Too late had your chance." Mav says and turns straight up. He circles back and shoots you. "That's a kill, y/n." He says. "Goddammit!" You yell. "Go see Hondo about your pushups" he says and flies away.

As you're doing your pushups, Hondo stopped counting a while ago but you haven't stopped. "Alright that's enough." He says but you still don't stop. He walks away and you stop once your arms can't take it anymore.

"Kid, with how training's going so far for you, it does not seem like you're going on this mission." Hangman says walking up to you. You scoff and get up, you begin walking away when he grabs you by the shoulder.

"Get out of your head, y/n. I don't know if it's simply that our instructor is Maverick, if that's what's bothering you but whatever it is, it cannot get in your way." He says, you listened to him without turning around, you wanted to turn around and slap the shit out of just cause you felt like it. Instead you walk away.

You head towards your locker and grab your stuff. You walk out to your car and throw your bags in the trunk, it's laundry day. You shut your trunk and get into the driver's seat. Shit you forgot your ID key card that lets you into the building. You groan and go to the front door and look through the glass. You see Cyclone walk by and you knock rapidly hoping he will hear you. Luckily he does and he lets you in.

"Lieutenant L/n, shouldn't you have your own card to be let in?" He asks raising his eyebrow at you. You sigh, "Yes sir, I set it at my locker and I forgot to grab it." You say looking down.

He notices that something is off and he runs your shoulder. "I'm gonna let you off with a warning but it better be the first and last time this happens. I can't emphasize enough how important it is that you never lose your ID card okay?Have a good night lieutenant." He says and you speed walk to your locker.

You turn the corner and Maverick is walking towards you. Before he has the chance to say anything you just walk past him.

You hear him scoff and when you get to your locker and you're unlocking it he comes by you. "Y/n what the fuck is your problem?" He asks

"What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you shoot me down over and over again?" You say shutting your locker. You grab your ID and start walking back from where you came in but he follows you. You make it to your car again and he's still right behind you.

"Don't think that just because I like you I'm gonna go easy on you." He says "fuck" he mutters. You immediately stop and turn around "You what?" You say.

"Wait no I didn't mean it." He starts, your heart drops. "Oh. Okay then." You say getting into your car but he stops you. "No wait y/n, I did mean it. I'm sorry for being a dick." He apologizes. "I don't know what to say." You say looking down.

"Well I think it would be okay if you start with telling me if you like me too or not." He chuckles awkwardly.

You laugh and look up at his stupid smile, his stupid eyes and his stupid gorgeous face. "Oh my gosh Maverick" you say as you pull him in to you to kiss him. He pulls away and he looks at you. "I'm guessing that's a yes?" He chuckles. "Yes Mav." You chuckle and he leans in to kiss you again, he deepens the kiss by pushing you against your car door.

He pulls away again. "Y/n, you've just gotta believe in yourself. You're one of the greatest pilots I know, you're just getting into your head about this mission but trust me you will get it." He says. You just nod your head and he lets you into your car and you leave.

Over the next week, you guys train more dogfighting.and overall defense. Today's exercise is going through the actual course of the mission. Maverick has already showed you guys the course and now you're ready to go through with it. "So for today's lesson we're gonna go easy on you guys. Max ceiling, 300 feet. Time to target, 3 minutes." Mav explains. "Fuck." You mutter under your breath.

"Good luck" he smiles at the crew.

You're in the air with Phoenix, and Coyote.

"Time is 1 minute thirty, we are 2 seconds behind. Increase to 490 knots." Phoenix tells you. "We've gotta move Coyote!" You groan. He speeds up too much and almost hits you. "Oh shit!" He yells and he pulls up and the alarm on his radar starts beeping.

"Why are they dead?" Maverick asks. "We broke the 300 foot ceiling, then a sam took us out." You explain. "No, why are they dead?" He asks again "I slowed down and I didn't communicate." Coyote says. "Why didn't you communicate with your team?" Mav asks

"I was too focused on- Coyote starts but is interrupted. "No, a reason that their family will accept at the funeral." Maverick says.

Maverick looks at you and asks "Why didn't you anticipate the turn?" but before he lets you answer he says again "Don't tell me y/n, tell it to her family" and nods towards Phoenix.

Hangman, Fanboy and Payback die too due to Hangman's obliviousness. Hangman backs it up with "either a man flies like Maverick or a man does not make it back." Mavericks lectures are just him emphasizing how you must focus on all things at once, how focusing too much on one thing and too little on another can get you killed.

The days over and you're done putting stuff away at your locker. Making sure to not forget anything this time you walk out to your car. Before leaving the building, Maverick comes up to you. "Hey y/n, I just wanted to say good job today." He says

"You don't mean it, I killed my team and I don't even have a good enough excuse to fucking say at the funeral. I'll see you tomorrow." You say getting into your car.

The next day, Maverick is called into a meeting with Cyclone and Warlock. He finds out that he will no longer be instructing since the operation has been set for a week earlier. Cyclone believes that the only thing Maverick has taught us that the mission cannot be flown.

Everybody is called to the meeting room. "I will be intructing the training for this mission now. We have less than a week, the time set has been moved earlier. As of today there are new mission parameters." Cyclone explains. "The time to target is now 4 minutes."

"Doesn't that expose us to their fighting air crafts?" Coyote asks "it does, so it will be a dogfight. But it seems like that's the only thing Maverick "taught" you." He replies. "Goddamn, we'll be sitting ducks." Fanboy sighs.

Suddenly the screen turns on and shows the flight course, indicating someone is airborne in an f-18 single. "Who the hell is that?" Asks Cyclone.

"Maverick entering point alpha. Confirm green range." Comes from the radio. "Uh maverick, green range confirmed. I don't see an event scheduled for you, sir." Also comes from the radio. "Well I'm going anyway." Maverick replies

The whole group sits up straight intrigued to see the screen. Maverick sets the time to target as 2 minutes 15 seconds. "2:15? That's impossible " says Coyote. Maverick begins the course. Surely, he makes it and lands the bombs perfectly, he even finished with 15 seconds to spare. Leaving everyone stunned. "Damn" is all Hangman says.

It is now the day of the mission. For Maverick to have a last chance to fly for Top Gun, he will be flying the mission since he showed it can be flown.

Everybody is in the room, Cyclone is talking about how the 5 people who do not fly the mission will stand by for any alternative roles.

"It has been an honor flying with you, each and every one of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission, my choice is a reflection of that." Maverick says.

"Choose your two foxtrot teams." Cyclone says. You feel so nervous because you don't know if you're going or not. "Payback and Fanboy, Phoenix and Bob." He sighs. Fuck, you're not going. Bob will be Pheonix's backseater and Fanboy will be Paybacks's.

Everybody looks at you confused as to why you're not paired with Phoenix. "And your wingman?." Cyclone asks. Tension filling the room, everybody is expecting it to be Hangman if not Rooster.

"Y/n." Maverick says.

"The rest of you will stand by on the carrier for any reserve role that's required. Dismissed." Admiral Bates says.

Phoenix and Bob come up to you and Bob pats you on the back.

"Holy shit y/n, it's gonna be different flying without you. But we're gonna do it." Phoenix says wrapping her arm around you.

Preparing for the mission, Cyclone speaks to you guys once again about the time to target and detailed specifics about the mission. "This is what you've all been training for. Come home safely."

You guys are on the tarmac, you go up to Maverick and shove him. "Hey! what the fuck was that for?" He asks while turning around.

"Why the hell did you pick me?" You say "because I believe in you, y/n. I know that you can do it, I couldn't do it without you being my wingman. don't go into this thinking that you can't do it." He says putting his hand on your shoulder.

You feel so nervous and you start breathing fast. "It will be okay I promise." He says pulling you into a hug. "We'll talk when we get back okay." He says giving you a smile.

Your breathing going back to normal you take a deep breath and head for your plane as he heads for his.

You give Phoenix and Bob a salute as they get in their planes. You take a deep breath and put your helmet on. Hondo comes up to your plane. "You got this y/n. It's been an honor, I believe in you." He says wiping his tears. You look at him still scared as hell. " Don't give me that look." He laughs "it's the only one i've got." You say patting his shoulder.

"good luck and come home please." He says as you shut your ceiling in.

" Dagger one, up and ready." Mav says through the radio. "Dagger spare, up and ready. You hear from Hangman. "Dagger three, up and ready." From Phoenix. You take a deep breath. "Dagger two, up and ready." You say

"Support assets airborne, strike package ready, standing by for launch decision." You hear from back in the room everybody is in. "Send them." Cyclone says. "Dagger one away." Maverick goes. "Dagger two away." You follow Maverick. "Dagger three away" Pheonix follows. "Dagger four away" and finally Payback follows too.

"Daggers descending below radar." Maverick says as you guys fly into the fog. "Enemy territory up ahead" Mav says. He takes a deep breath, looking back at the rest of the dagger squad. "Dagger attack." He says and they release the missiles. "Tomahawks airborne" you hear. "No turning back now." Says Admiral Bates. You see the tomahawks fly above you guys.

"Daggers, ascend to attack formation" Maverick says and you guys do so. "Daggers set, proceeding to target, time set to 2 minutes and thirty seconds in three, two, one, mark." Maverick says and starts his timer. "Two mark." You say pressing yours. "Three mark, Four mark." You hear from Phoenix and Payback.

"Going in." Mav says. As you guys go in, you stay low and you're good under radar. You look up and see sams set.

"2 minutes to target!" Bob says

"Copy, were 14 seconds behind y/n we've got to move!" Payback says to you. Your palms are sweaty and breathing is heavy.

"Thirty seconds to tomahawk impact on enemy airstrip." You hear from the radio.

"Dagger, Comanche. We're picking up two bandits." You hear. "Where the hell did they come from?" Cyclone says. Shit. "They're headed the other way, they don't know we're here. But the second those tomahawks hit, they will turn around." Mav says "copy", and you guys reply.

"We have to get there before they do. Daggers, increase speed." Maverick says. Phoenix does, but you don't. "Sir, daggers two and four are behind schedule. Time to target, one minute twenty seconds." You hear from the radio again. Fuck. "Tomahawk impact in three, two, one." You hear. "Impact!".

"They know we're coming now." Cyclone says.

"Bandits are switching direction to defend enemy target." "Y/n, where are you?" Maverick asks. But you don't reply. "C'mon y/n! Bandits are inbound we gotta make time up now! Let's turn and burn." Payback says. "If we don't increase speed now, they'll be waiting for us when we get there y/n." Payback says

You take a deep breath still rapidly breathing. "Y/n, you can do it. Don't think, just do." Mav whispers to you.

You suddenly increase speed. "Jesus y/n, not that fast!" Payback says but you keep going. "Alright let's go." you say continuing with Payback following you. "Damn y/n take it easy!" Fanboy yells.

"Sir, dagger two is engaging." "Alright now hit your target and come home." Cyclone says. "Thirty seconds to target, Bob check your laser." Mav says "Code verified, laser is a go!" Bob says. They pop up, and drop in "Bombs away." Maverick says and successfully hits the target.

"Direct hit!" He yells. "There's miracle number one." Warlock says through the radio. "Dagger two, status?" He asks "We're almost there Mav!" You yell. You pop up and drop in. "Fanboy where's my laser?" You ask. "Y/n there's something wrong with this laser, shit!" Fanboy yells fumbling with the laser. "Dead eye! Dead eye! Dead eye!" He yells. "Fuck! There's no time, I'm dropping in blind." You say

"Nearly there, don't!" Fanboy yells but you do so anyway.

"Bombs away! Bombs away!" You yell and immediately pull up. You've successfully hit the target as you see it explode while you're still pulling up. "Bullseye! Bullseye! Bullseye!" You hear from the radio followed by cheering. "There's miracle number two." Warlock says "Now they're in coffin corner." Cyclone says.

"We're not out of this yet!" Maverick grunts, struggling. Your eyes want to shut, but you're fighting with all you can to stay conscious.

Maverick and Phoenix make it over the mountain, setting off the sams. "Smoke in the air! Phoenix break right!" You hear Maverick yell. You're still fighting for your life trying not to pass out. "Here comes another one!" You hear Bob yell.

"Y/n status!" Maverick yells. You make it over the mountain. You see the sams heading towards you. "Oh my god! Smoke in the air! Smoke in the air!" You yell.

"Break right y/n! Break right!" You hear fanboy yell at you. "There's more coming!" He says "deploying flares!" You reply. You press the red button and your flares are launched, defending.

"Negative contact!" You grunt. "Y/n! Watch out! 9 o'clock!!" Fanboy yells at you smacking his window in the direction of where they are coming. They were gonna hit Phoenix, but she moved out of the way and they were headed towards you.

"2 more on your left y/n!" Bob yells. Shit. Missiles are coming at you from both sides and you don't know where to go. "Defending!" You yell but you're out of flares. "Shit I'm out of flares!" You tell trying to break left but their on your tail.

"Dagger one defending!" Maverick grunts getting in the way of you and the missiles headed towards you. "Maverick no!" You yell as he gets hit, not taking out all of the missiles in time and falling down towards a mountain about to burn in.

"Shit!" You yell, tears swelling in your eyes. "Dagger one is hit! I repeat, Dagger one is hit! Maverick is down!" Phoenix yells into the radio. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck. Dagger one status? Does anyone see him?" You yell.

"I didn't see a parachute, y/n." Payback says. "We're gonna circle back. We have to!" You yell still looking in the direction where he fell. "Comanche, bandits inbound, single group, recommend dagger head south. One minute to intercept." You hear coming from the radio. "Get them back to the carrier, now." You hear cyclone say. Fuck, the tears leave your eyes. You're going after Maverick.

"All daggers head for ECP, you have bandits headed to you."

"What about maverick!" You yell. "Tell her there's nothing she can do about Maverick. Not in a goddamn F-18!" Cyclone says

"Dagger spare, request permission to launch and fly air cover!" You hear Hangman yell. "Negative, spare."

"Fuck!" You smack your hand against the dashboard. "Send search and rescue." Warlock says. But cyclone says no, not with bandits in the air. "Sir! Maverick is still out there." Hondo says but Cyclone says we are not losing anyone else today. "Get them home now." He says

"Dagger, you are not to engage." The tears keep coming from your eyes. "Dagger two, return to carrier. Dagger two acknowledge, you are not to engage."

"Y/n, the bandits are closing in. We can't go back." Phoenix says, her voice breaking. "He's gone y/n." Fanboy says

You break sharply and go in Mavericks direction. "Y/n no!" Phoenix yells. You're flying over the mountain where he got hit. You set off more sams from that corner. "Where are you Mav, where are you." You whisper to yourself looking over the area. Unaware and without flares you get hit. "Fuck!" You yell.

"Dagger two is hit, I repeat Dagger two is hit." You hear coming from the radio and you're about to crash. At the last second you're able to eject and crash-land into some trees. You land safely on the ground and you fold up your parachute.

"You alright!!" You hear somebody yell and you look up and see Maverick sprinting at you. You gasp as he aggressively throws himself at you, hugging you and you both fall to the floor. You push him off of you and get up.

"What the hell!?" You yell at him. "What are you doing here y/n! You think I took that missile for you to be down here with me? You should be back on the carrier by now!!" He says to you. "I saved your life!" You say looking up at his tall figure, poking your finger into his chest.

"I saved your life! That's the whole fucking point. What the hell were you even thinking??" He says pushing your hand off of his chest. "You told me not to think!!" You scream back at him smacking his hand. You guys look at each other for a few seconds, catching your breath.

"Fuck. Well it's good to see you." He says. You look at him for a bit. You throw yourself at him bringing him into a hug. "It's good to see you too." You say as he's holding on to you tightly.

"C'mon I have a plan." he says putting his arm around your waist, guiding you. You guys walk about half a mile past some trees. You guys find a rock to hide behind, you look over at the enemy's base. Alarms blaring and you see people scrambling all over the place, trying to figure out why their runway was taken out.

Maverick is looking through his binoculars. "Hey look." He says handing them to you. "You're joking." You say as you see the F-14 that he's talking about. "It's either that or we're dead y/n." He says taking them back. "We don't even know if that piece of shit can fly, Mav." You say. "Well let's go find out." He says jumping over the rock. "Fuck. Mav! okay." you say wiping your face.

You follow him and once you catch up you hold onto his arm. "Wait up." You say. "Sorry" he says slowing down. "Mav, there's people." You whisper, tugging on his arm. "Okay okay." He says slowing down a lot. "Wait no, okay uhh here let's run." He says starting to run and you do so too.

You guys make it to the F-14. Mav makes his way over to the dash system. "Okay, okay once I give you the signal, you're gonna flip the switch until the needle reaches 120. Once the engine turns on, you're gonna pull up all of the pins and unplug everything. Understand?" He says looking at you. "Yeah, yeah I got it." You say. He presses the button to turn it on and it starts. "Yes!" He exlaims.

He turns around to get in and he puts on his helmet. But he stops and turns back around. "Hey-" he says, he grabs your face and kisses you. You pull away and look at him "we're gonna make it y/n." He says and you kiss him again.

He gets in and gives you the signal. You flip the switch when you see the needle reach 120. You run around the plane, unplugging everything and you stow his ladder and jump on.

You get into your seat and get settled. "Holy shit, this thing's old." You chuckle looking over all of the buttons. You guys start driving out and onto the runway. "Both runways are cratered Mav, how are we gonna get this museum piece up?" You ask.

Mav looks around and pulls a lever. "Why are the wings coming out Mav?" You say with your face pressed against the glass as you look down.

"Just hold on." He replies and accelerates rapidly. "Holy shit! Mav this is not a runway!!" You yell. You guys barely make it up in the air, your wheels hitting the cratered tarmac piece on the way up, breaking off.

You turn your radio on, connecting to the carrier. You and Maverick make it to sea. You see two planes coming up behind you guys. "Mav, there's somebody coming." You say tapping the glass.

"Shit, okay put your mask on. Smile and wave, if they knew who we were we'd already be dead." He says and you put on your mask. You look to your left and the enemy plane is right there, you guys wave. The pilot signals something to Mav.

"What does that mean?" You whisper. "Uh, I have no idea. Never seen it." He replies and he signals something to the guy. "Mav, his backseater is reaching into the weapons envelope. Can we outrun these guys?" You ask, getting scared.

"Y/n, look at the yellow flaps under your seat. That is the ejection handle you're gonna pull it when I tell you to." He says.

"Mav, can we outrun them?" You ask again. "No y/n. Not in a F-14." He sighs. "It's not the plane Mav, it's the pilot. You'd go after them if I wasn't here." You reply. "But you are here." He says.

"Fuck. Okay, hold on y/n" he says and he rapidly accelerates, trying to flee. The other guys immediately act on it and they start shooting. "flares y/n!" Mav yells. You press the button, releasing the flares and stopping the missiles.

"That was close!" You yell. Another shot headed towards you and you press the button again. "Mav were out of flares!! Break right!" He does so and the missles barely miss you guys.

You guys are nearing a valley, you can make it through if you get low enough. Maverick says the terrain will trip out the guys system. Once you make it through the small valley, Mav takes a sharp turn, causing the other guy to crash into the mountain. "Yes Mav! Splash one!' you yell excitedly.

"Fuck!! Maverick there's another one!" You smack his shoulder to get his attention. "Y/n we can't take anymore of this." Mav says as you guys start to get shot at. "Eject y/n! Eject!" He yells at you.

You pull at the yellow striped handles but you're not budging. "I said eject y/n!" He yells again. "It's not working!!" You yell still yanking at the handles. The other plane shoots at you guys again. "We're not gonna make it!" You yell.

Suddenly, the missile is intercepted by another flare coming from your right. The enemy plane is shot down.

"Ladies and gentlemen please welcome, your lord and savior, hangman." You hear as the plane gets near you. "Holy shit!" You laugh feeling a wave of relief take over your body. You settle back into your seat. He comes up right next to you guys. Maverick chuckles. "You look good Hangman." He says "I am good Mav, I'm very good." He smirks. "C'mon guys, lets go home." You say.

"Arriving at the carrier, barricade net needed. I repeat barricade net needed." Hangman says into his radio. You guys fly over the carrier, seeing the crew setting up the net. You circle back around and crash into the net.

You raise the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh, taking off your helmet. "Maverick!!

Y/n!!" Hondo yells running towards you guys. Everybody surrounds you guys cheering you guys on.

You jump off and stand on the tarmac, your heart still racing from the adrenaline. Phoenix, Rooster, Coyote, Payback, Fanboy, Bob and Hangman all run up to you. Engulfing you in a group hug.

"I never thought I'd be this happy to see you y/n." Payback says. "Yeah. Never do that shit again." Fanboy says pulling you into a hug. You pull away smiling and you look at Pheonix. "I knew you'd never leave anyone behind." She says bringing you into a tight hug and you hug her back tightly. You look back at Bob. "I don't know what to say. Holy shit y/n you almost died!" He yells at you hugging you. "It's good to see you too Bob." You chuckle.

Hangman clears his throat, you all look at him and see that he's looking at Mav coming up to you. "Go! Go!" Fanboy and Phoenix whisper pushing you away. Maverick comes up to you and hugs you tightly.

You fall into his touch, embracing him as if it's the last hug you'll ever get from him. "Y/n, you saved me. I couldn't have done it without you." He says. "And I couldn't have done it without you." You say looking up at him. "Not too bad for a wingman hey?" He chuckles. "As long as I'm only your wingman." You say looking up at him, smiling.

"Of course, we make the best team y/n." He says, his facial expression softening. He grabs your face and brings you closer. Pulling you into a kiss, you kiss him back. It was a passionate kiss, filled with the thrill from the mission and a promise of what was yet to come.

"Be mine, y/n." He whispers looking into your eyes. "Always." You say, leaning back into another kiss.

This one was a long one! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please send in requests! By the way, slider x trans! male reader coming soon as requested by anon! :)

Just a fan - Jude Bellingham x reader

Summary: a security guard at one of Jude’s games mistakes you for a fan.

Warnings: slight angst, appearances from Camavinga and Vini Jr hehe

-

“May i have a picture please?” You heard a soft voice and a Spanish accent say from behind you as the final minutes of Jude’s game played out.

You turn your head to see a young girl with a Real Madrid shirt on, her phone in her hand with the camera app open and ready.

You smile softly before nodding.

“Would you like me to take it, it might be a better angle?” You ask sweetly, as you turn your body almost all the way round.

“Yes, please” the young fan says as you grab her phone and hold it up so the both of you were in the screen.

You take a few pictures so she can pick which ones she likes best before giving her the phone back.

“Thank you so much, tell Jude I love him!” She says excitedly before her attention is bought back to the game where Jude is running towards where the both of you are sat for a throw in.

Jude looks at you, due to you being close to the pitch, and winks.

The girls around you scream as you smile at him and mouth ‘proud’ towards him.

He smiles before focusing again.

It’s only his second La Liga appearance for Real Madrid yet he’s already excelled, getting two goals and an assist in this second match alone.

You watch proudly in his shirt as you clap in the final minutes of the game, your phone in your hands having taken pictures of fans that you thought Jude would like to see.

A few seconds later, the final whistle blows, cheers from the Madristas echo around the stadium as the other team bows their heads in defeat.

Jude celebrates with some of his new teammates, as the rival fans, and some Madristas begin to flee from the stands.

You stay put as your seats are close to the pitch on the ground, knowing some of the players come round and see the fans.

Once the stadium was almost all clear, Jude came running over to you. A rival players shirt tucked into his shorts as his was nowhere to be seen.

You couldn’t help but scan over his displayed torso, his abs flexing as he ran.

You got up off your seat and moved over to where he’d be able to reach you. As you did, some of the fans began to approach the pitch too, as they did after most matches.

He smiled at you and remained eye contact as he grew closer, the desire to be with each other growing strong.

Just as Jude was about to reach you, you felt strong hands pushing your shoulders back with a harsh shove.

The security guard who had been stood in front of you, watching you take pictures had a stoic look in his face as you began to fall.

Pain struck you as you stumbled back into other fans, who were then also hurt in the process.

You fell into a chair that was used by a photographer during the game.

Your back fell uncomfortably against the back of the chair as you hip crashed against the side.

No doubt your body would be covered in bruises when you wake up tomorrow.

You hear Jude’s shouts almost instantly, his protectiveness making him shove the security guard away.

“What is your problem?” He shouts, almost everyone remaining in the stadium can hear him, during the attention of some of his teammates.

Vini Jr, who had been just behind Jude the whole time, ran over to you, having seen you dropping Jude off at training before.

“Porro, are you okay?” He asks as his hands cup your arms, he rubs them slightly as if to aid your pain as he helps you up to a standing position.

You meet his eyes and his are full of concern as tears start to form in yours.

You nod slightly, mustering up a small smile as you hear Jude still shouting at the security guard.

“She’s just a fan, Bellingham” the older man’s gruff voice says.

“You don’t know anything about me, or us, how do you know she’s ‘just a fan’” he scolds, his accent thick with anger.

You turn back to Vini for a moment before concern grows within you.

“The fans” you say before turning around to see some of the Madristas that were behind you, holding themselves in paid.

Vini looks past you before shouting for his friend.

“Cama! Come” he shouts as he jumps the barrier that was previously between the two of you.

Camavinga follows short having realised the situation.

He stops to look at you just after he’d jumped the barrier.

“You okay?” He asks softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you reply and he nods before following Vinicius in aiding the fans that had been hurt in the events, the other security guards half assisting them, half protecting them.

Finally, Jude turned to you.

His eyes were drowned in concern for you as he scanned your body for any visible injuries.

He ran the short distance back over to you and gently took your face in his hands.

He moved your head around to see if you had hit your head before even saying anything to you.

“Jude..” you start before he interrupts you.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you. I-I I don’t even know why or, or how it happened” he frantically gets out as he spins your body around to look.

He turns you to face him once again before gently lifting the material of his shirt up slightly at your hips.

His warm fingers grazing at the skin of your stomach causing goosebumps to raise on your arms.

He smiles due to your reaction, but concern still dominating his face.

He looks down towards your hip to see slight bruising already forming.

“Y/n, this-” he starts.

“It’s okay. Im okay. Can we please just get out of here and go home?” You ask him, your voice hushed as you start to see people with their phones pointed at the two of you.

“Yeah, of course.See you later?.” He says before kissing you on the forehead, cautious of the cameras, and then disappearing down the tunnel.

“I’m sorry” the guard begins to say and you hold up your hand.

“It’s fine. But even if I was a fan, you don’t push them that hard, they are people too” you say before heading out to exit the stadium and driving to Real Madrids training centre, knowing that’s where the team bus will pull into in a few minutes.

-

You stay in your car as you wait for him to exit the team bus, scared to face his teammates, feeling slightly embarrassed about what happened.

A knock in the window breaks you out of your shame.

You look up to see Jude, Vini and Camavinga in front of you.

You sigh before unlocking the doors.

“Hello, beautiful” Jude says as he sits in the passenger seat, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek.

“Aw” Vini coos as he stands in the space between the passenger door and the car.

Cama slaps his chest lightly.

“Bro?” He says as Vini rubs his chest.

You and Jude can’t help but let out small laughs at their antics.

“We just wanted to check whether you were okay?” Camavinga says as they look at you with concern.

“Sí, looked bad” Vini says as he leans his hand on Jude’s shoulder.

“I’m okay, it hurts less now” you smile reassuringly at them, tired eyes looking from Jude to the pair stood outside

“Bien, well let us know if there’s anything we can do” Cama says, mainly directed at Jude but also you.

“Will do, mate.” Jude nods as the two turn to walk away.

“Thank you!” You call to them and they turn around and smile at you before walking to their cars.

“Aw, they are nice” you say as Jude turns to you and kisses you.

When you pull away, you smile.

“I wanted to do that all day. I’m so sorry this happened to you, baby.” He says as his thumb brushes over your cheek.

“It’s okay, I just want to go home and eat Icecream.” You say and he laughs while nodding.

“Luckily for you, i bought your favourite ice cream yesterday. Lots of it” he says with a little smirk, proud of himself.

“Really?” You say, your eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yes, but, you have to ice your bruises first” he says, knowing otherwise, you would probably be too scared of the cold to do so.

“Ugh, fine. I hate you” you say to him before rolling your eyes and starting the car up.

“Please, you know you love me” and you can practically hear the smug smirk on his face.

-

Hope you liked it!! Thanks for everyone who voted on the poll. The other option will be coming soon!! <3

New Tricks

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead

What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular. 

Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.

Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne

Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗

These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️

I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door. 

“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time,  when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.  

Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck. 

The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again. 

Excellent, you inwardly sigh.

“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting  internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level.  “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.” 

Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck.  Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows. 

Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”

His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?” 

No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind. 

“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.” 

The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes. 

“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.” 

You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation. 

Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic. 

“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?” 

Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–” 

You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.

Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”

Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning. 

“What the shit–“ 

The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?” 

In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!” 

Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.” 

The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”

“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.  

The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all. 

And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?” 

Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids. 

“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”

Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed. 

“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.” 

It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone. 

You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?” 

You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“

“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over. 

Had he been listening that whole time? 

Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky  may have made was a burden you did not want to bear,  and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”

Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.” 

The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”

His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.  

With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.  

“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”

The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”

Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump. 

You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose.  “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”

With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off. 

Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips. 

Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door. 

With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”

Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.  

Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”

He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”

You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.  

“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?” 

The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”

You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.” 

Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf. 

The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?” 

“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”

You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”

“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom. 

Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”

“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you. 

A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.  

The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence. 

Though, it is short lived. 

Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand. 

A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works. 

“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off. 

You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before… 

“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”

A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious. 

His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you. 

“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”

The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats. 

Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?” 

You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”

The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet. 

Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.

“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”

“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.  

Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company. 

This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence. 

Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone. 

“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content. 

“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”

“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets. 

“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.

The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.

“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.

Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.  

That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself. 

“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?” 

You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV. 

“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.” 

The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.” 

Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.” 

Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”

“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.” 

You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”

Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it. 

Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”  

Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”

“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!” 

He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?” 

“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.  

“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”

His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”

Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night. 

There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus. 

Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”  

Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing. 

“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”

“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”

“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”

A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”

“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.” 

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” 

His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face. 

Okay, you think privately, so what? 

Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt. 

If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”

“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”

Now that catches you off guard. 

Bucky… is a virgin? 

Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match. 

Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression. 

“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”

No other words come to mind. 

When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts. 

You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully. 

The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him. 

Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession. 

It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands,  and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty. 

From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer. 

Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past.  And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket. 

What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?

To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs. 

Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees. 

“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.  

The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical. 

You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”

“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.” 

“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting. 

You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”

He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“

“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”

“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.

“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”

You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.

“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”

“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through. 

Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek. 

This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance. 

You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.

He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”

“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap. 

That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth. 

There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves. 

Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face. 

“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.

There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek. 

“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.

Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”

The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes. 

Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.  

“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session. 

Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.

“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.  

You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.

“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension. 

A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time. 

Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.  

The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close. 

But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard. 

The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly. 

Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before. 

You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another. 

It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you. 

And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–” 

To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.  

Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries. 

You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.

The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss. 

You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move. 

Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous. 

It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”

Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”

Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”

Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.

“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.” 

You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin. 

The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet. 

The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt  — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.

Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.  

“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”

“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”

You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”

The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn. 

“Wha– Fuck!”

You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it. 

The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.

Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release. 

You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the  loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle. 

Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.

Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck. 

You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently. 

“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”

Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him. 

You can’t have that, though. 

Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go. 

It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in. 

You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?” 

Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.” 

“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.  

You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.” 

The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”

Something snaps within him. 

The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure. 

To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop. 

“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”

“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!” 

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed. 

“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”

The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat. 

The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”

Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness. 

After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”

“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material. 

Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”

“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.

The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”

Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”

“But–” Bucky tries. 

“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”

His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”

“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”

The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces. 

It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”

You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands. 

And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair. 

You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.

“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.” 

You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only– 

“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala. 

“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”

But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?” 

That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes. 

You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”

Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away. 

With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”

The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky. 

“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”

“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”

You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”

The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall.  “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”

A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive. 

“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.” 

That meant only one person was responsible. 

Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.  

Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night. 

I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake. 

Love ya squirt, 

Your big bro.

“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.

P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x 

Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again. 

“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”

Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain. 

Hello 👋,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is Aziz, and I’m reaching out with a heartfelt plea to help my family find safety and reunite with our mother. 😞

The ongoing war in Gaza has torn my family apart. My mother and newborn sister are stranded in Egypt, while I, along with the rest of my sex family members, am trapped in the midst of the genocide in Gaza. We have not only been separated but have also lost our home and are enduring unimaginable hardships. 💔

Your support can make a difference. Whether by reading our story, donating, or sharing our campaign with others, you can help us reunite, find safety, and start anew. 🙏🕊

Thank you, from the depths of my heart, for your kindness, compassion, and solidarity during this difficult time. ❤🍉

https://gofund.me/58268669 🔗

Read this message. Thank you for sharing this story with us.

Thanks babe. @thefanficmonster

I didnt get anything with my name so just did my Url.

Just participate if you like

ok new tag game search your name in the gifs and the fourth one is how your years gonna go (i saw this on facebook)

Oh- thanks for the tag @lord-of-the-weird

Tagging: @visfar-the-101 @lost-highwayy @nikkisqueenofsleaze @kurtsnirvanabrother @novemberslashhx @axysbbygurl @adlersrose @rocknrollsoul76 @pinkpatiencecreepers @hungercityhellhound 🤍

The power of Sebastian Vettel.

This is too PERFECT to not reblog! I love this.

Midsummers

summary: as midsummers approaches, Thor brings the Avengers to Asgard and the Earth's mightiest heroes meets Loki's children

warning: crack fic, based off a tik tok trend at the moment, inadequate writing about Asgardian years, children, like a lot of children. AU where iw and eg doesn't happen and everyone is alive and happy

word count: 1.3k

pairing: loki laufeyson x wife!reader

navigation | taglist | requests

gif is not mine

The castle gardens had been decorated to the tens. Asgardians didn't take midsummers lightly, it was always the main attraction everyone looked forward to each year.

Thor had spent the past four months on Midgard, getting ready to leave for Asgard.

"Thor, where are you going?" Steve looked at his teammate. The team was supposed to have group training in less than an hour.

"I must return to Asgard, it is midsummer." Thor explained continuing to gather his belongings.

"Midsummers?" Steve questioned.

"It celebrates the new season, summer." Thor explained, slightly confused. "You never celebrated midsummers?"

"No?" Steve answered slowly. Thor's confused face morphed into a bright smile.

"You must come, you all should come!" Thor referenced the whole team. "It is amazing, it is held in the town, games, music and at the end there is the crowning of the midsummer king and queen from the queen herself."

"What's going on?" Sam and Bucky walk towards the noise.

"We are going to Asgard!" Thor pumped his fists in the air.

It was easy to get the rest of the team to agree to go, Tony the easiest. An hour later, the whole team stood outside on the grass of the compound in a circular formation.

"Heimdall!" Thor called out lifting Mjolnir in the air, the bifrost coming down taking the Avengers towards Asgard.

"Thor!" The young boy ran towards his uncle, jumping into his arms.

"Look at you!" Thor set him down. "You're getting bigger everyday, almost as tall as your eldest brothers."

"That's what I say, but they don't think so." Colby pouted. "You must come, everyone misses you, father says he doesn't, but I think he's lying." The boy dragged Thor towards the castle, the rest of the Avengers following, slowly taking their time engulfing all of Asgard.

"Erik, Bo, where is your brother, you two were suppose to watch him?" You came into the main with Dana and Astrid by your side, the two girls beaming about their braided hair you did for Midsummers.

"I told Bo to watch him, I had things to do." Erik defended himself.

"Things as in, Meleah." Bo snickered.

"I'm here mother!" Colby came running into the room, hugging your waist, Thor and the Avengers coming in a few moments after.

"Thor!" You smiled coming up to him hugging him. "Happy Midsummers."

"Happy Midsummers, my queen." He kissed your knuckles. "Queen Y/n, meet my friends, the Avengers. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Bucky Barnes and Bruce Banner. Friends this Y/n, queen of Asgard and my sister-in-law."

"Wait, a minute." Tony interjected. "Sister-in-law, as in Reindeers wife."

"What's a reindeer?" Astrid looked at her uncle.

"There you are Colby!" Loki came running into the room. "Where did you go?"

"I went to visit Heimdall and Uncle Thor came." He smiled. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"It's alright son, just make sure you tell one of your siblings, or your mother or I before you do, we just want you safe." Loki wrapped his arms around his son, rubbing the top of his head.

"5 kids." Tony breathed out. "That must be a pain."

"Oh, we have 10." You said nonchalantly, the team gaping at your answer. "Children!" You yelled, letting it project through the whole castle. You felt the footsteps of the other five, joining you in the room.

"We'll go in order so it's easy." Loki told his kids. The rest of the avengers watched as the 10 kids formed a line from oldest to youngest, it must haven't been the first time they did this.

"So our eldest are Erik and Bo. We only planned for one, but we got him too." You chuckled ruffling Bo's hair earning a small glare.

"Next is Olsen, the first anniversary." You continued.

"Freya, our first daughter."

"Ingrid, my painter."

"Kory, him and Olsen are like mini Loki's as I like to say, but he doesn't agree with me."

"Mother!" The two boys whined.

"Hey, I'm saying nice things, I could tell him how you came to life, would you like that instead."

"No mother." The two boys looked down in embarrassment.

"Sven, is my little baby." You cooed.

"Mother, can you not?" He swatted your hand away from his cheek.

"You all already met Colby, he's the most adventurous in the family."

"And finally, my two youngest, Dana and Astrid."

"Seems like you two get around." Tony joked looking at you and Loki.

"We used to be bored a lot." Loki smirked, earning a smack on the back of the head from you. "Sorry, my queen."

The rest of the day was spent getting your daughters ready for the celebration, Wanda and Natasha in the room with you getting to know you better. Dana sat on Wanda's lap, Astrid on Natasha's, the two little girls gushing over daddy's 'friends'.

Loki returned to his chambers to finish off some duties, leaving his sons off with the male avengers. Sven and Bruce sat off in the corner talking over science instead taking part of the duel in front of them. Colby had been showing Thor and Sam his new skills he learned from his Aunt Sif, Kory and Olsen trying to take on the two super soldiers. Tony showing Erik his iron man hand, and Rhodey showing Bo his war machine.

The four daughters returned with Wanda and Natasha opting to sit with Bruce and Sven, watching their brothers and teammates.

"They seem to be getting along." You watched from the doorway, feeling Loki's presence lingering behind you. "I know you aren't really colleagues with them, but thank you for being good."

"Anything for you." Loki kissed the top of your head.

As midday came, the royal family and their friends made their way down to the town center for the celebration. Each of the children went their different ways to join in on festivities, Loki and you slowly walking around greeting your people.

You watched as Astrid and Ingrid made flower crowns for all the avengers making them wear it the whole time. Loki, Thor, Bucky and Steve sitting by the bar with Asgardian ale, Colby flying through the air with Iron Man.

"I would like to thank everyone who has come today to celebrate Midsummers." You projected your voice through the crowd. "Each year, we crown the Midsummer King and Queen, and this year I have to honor to present the awards."

"So this year's Midsummers King is Erik Lokison." You cheered watching your eldest son make his way towards you, kissing his forehead before placing the crown on his head. "You will make a wonderful king." You murmured, not just referring to Midsummers. Eventually Erik will take the throne and become the King of Asgard.

"And the Midsummer's Queen is...Meleah Calderdottir." You smiled. You watched as the young girl made her way up to you. You saw Meleah with your son numerous times in the castle gardens, she reminded you of yourself.

"Your highness." You placed the tiara on her head.

"Thank you Queen Y/n." She bowed.

"Our son is growing." Loki told you once you joined his side once again. The two of you looked back to see him and Meleah dancing together.

"He will be a great king, just like his father." You caressed Loki's cheekbone.

"Mother, will I get to be the Midsummers queen?" Astrid came up to the two of you ruining the moment.

"Of course my sweet girl." You picked her, settling her on your hip, her legs wrapping around your waist.

"You may have to wait a few years." Loki smiled, kissing the tip of her nose, watching her nose scrunch from it.

"Mother, father come dance!" Freya pulled the two of you on the dance floor. Loki bowed offering his hand, kissing the top of yours when you place it with his, spinning you before you two start dancing.

"You want something?" You raised an eyebrow looking at him watching the mischief swirl in his eyes.

"Why say such a thing?" He hummed.

"You're being extra sweet in public." You commented.

"Alright, fine." He gave in. "I may or may not want another child."

So proud of you h! I can’t imagine how it must felt to let it all out! Im so supportive im bi and use she/her but sometimes if someone says they/them I don’t care! But be proud of her you are! And for my fans please be sure to check their account out its fantastic! <3

if you guys could start using she/they pronouns for me + only call me ‘h’, i would really appreciate it !!! thank you !!! 🌻

Lees verder

one of my favourite tweets ever😭

Danger Noodles

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: When asked to describe Formula 1 drivers in a single word, many people would choose “brave” … but those people clearly haven’t seen your boyfriends near a snake

You sink back into the plush couch, wedged happily between your boyfriends. Max’s arm is draped casually over your shoulders while Charles holds your hand, gently stroking his thumb over your knuckles as they both gaze at you adoringly.

“We have something we want to ask you,” Max says, giving your shoulders a little squeeze.

Your heart flutters, wondering what they’re going to propose. The three of you have been nearly inseparable for the past six months, falling more and more deeply in love with each passing day.

“What is it?”

Charles grins, bringing your hand to his lips for a tender kiss. “Well … we were hoping you would move in with us.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Of course you’ve dreamed about living with them — waking up tangled in bed together each morning, cooking side by side, cuddling on the couch every night. But there’s one major issue that gives you pause.

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” you stammer.

“Say yes!” Max nuzzles your cheek. “It will be amazing, the three of us together.”

You bite your lip anxiously. “Well, there’s actually something you should know first ...”

But Charles cuts you off, cupping your face in his hands. “We know this is fast but it just feels right, doesn’t it? I can’t imagine not having you with us when we fall asleep and when we wake up every day. We love you so much.”

He kisses you softly and your reservations start to melt away. How could you even think of say no when they’re looking at you like that, so full of hope and devotion?

Max tilts your chin towards him for a deep, lingering kiss. “Please move in with us, liefje. It will be like a dream come true.”

You open your mouth but Charles swoops in for another kiss, stealing your breath. “Imagine lazy mornings in bed, making those blueberry pancakes you love together, playing with our ...”

He trails off, his nose crinkling adorably as he thinks. You take a deep breath. This is your chance.

“Playing with my pets,” you finish for him. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I have pets.”

Max and Charles exchange surprised looks.

“Pets? What kind of pets?” Max asks.

You hesitate, trying to figure out how to break this gently. But the words stick in your throat.

Charles grins and pulls you against his chest. “As long as they’re not snakes or spiders, I think we can handle whatever furry creatures you have.”

Max chuckles. “Yeah, anything but those two. You know how terrified we are of them.” He shudders dramatically.

You open your mouth but Max barrels on enthusiastically.

“I bet you have the cutest little dog or cat. Maybe even both! Don’t worry, we’ll love them because they’re part of you. Plus Jimmy and Sassy could use some more siblings.”

Charles nods eagerly. “Absolutely! Your pets will be our pets. We can’t wait to meet them and spoil them.”

You try again weakly. “But you don’t underst—”

Max presses a finger to your lips. “No more hesitation. We want you to move in with us and we want to meet your pets. I have a good feeling they’ll fit right into the family.”

Charles tickles your sides playfully, making you squeal. “So what do you say? Are you ready to take this next step with us?”

They both gaze at you with such hope and excitement, you can’t bear to ruin it just yet. Moving in together is a big step, one you’ve dreamed of taking. And they seem so thrilled about your pets, misunderstanding though it is.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe they’ll come around once they actually meet your snakes and see how sweet and harmless they are. You can ease them into it slowly.

“Yes,” you finally say, breaking into a wide smile. “I would love to move in with you both.”

Max and Charles let out whoops of joy, tackling you backwards onto the couch in a tangle of limbs and ecstatic kisses. You dissolve into giggles, caught up in their infectious enthusiasm.

For now, you decide to just enjoy this moment. The conversation about snakes can wait a little longer. You snuggle into your boyfriends’ arms, thrilled to be taking this step even if you have a nagging worry about their reaction to your pets.

But their smiles chase away those doubts for the time being. Curled between these two men who you love with your whole heart, you feel like the luckiest person alive.

***

You take a deep breath as you look around your new shared bedroom. The movers have brought in all of your boxes. Your clothes are hanging neatly in the walk-in closet next to Max’s Red Bull branded shirts and Charles’ eclectic collection of pants. Your knickknacks are scattered around, blending seamlessly with their belongings.

This really is your home now. The thought makes your heart swell even as your stomach twists anxiously. There’s only one thing left to move in — your beloved pet snakes.

You decided put this off until the very end, dreading your boyfriends’ reaction. But now you can’t delay any longer.

Taking another deep breath, you head down the hall to where Max and Charles are unpacking your novelty mugs in the kitchen.

Max looks up with a grin as you enter. “Is everything all moved in?”

You force a smile. “Just about. There’s, um, just three things left.”

Charles wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Well let’s go get them! I’m so excited to finally meet these pets of yours.”

Your throat goes dry. You should have told them sooner. But there’s no backing out now.

“Yeah, about that ...” you start nervously.

But Max is already eagerly dragging you towards the front door. “Come on, what are we waiting for? Bring in the fur babies!”

Your steps drag reluctantly as you lead them down to the garage where your car is parked. You open the backseat door, reaching for the first snake habitat.

Max and Charles peer eagerly into the car. As you turn, reptile habitat in hand, their faces morph from excitement to confusion to outright horror.

Charles stumbles back with a yelp. “Is that a snake?”

You bite your lip, cradling the habitat protectively against your chest. Your corn snake stares back at them curiously.

“Yes, this is Caramel. She’s my pet corn snake. And I have two other snakes — Cookie and Basil.” You gesture at the other two setups still in the car.

Max’s face has gone pale, his eyes wide as saucers as he stares at Caramel. Charles looks similarly shaken.

“Snakes?” Charles squeaks in disbelief. “Your pets are snakes?”

You nod, feeling awful for not warning them sooner. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t know how to bring it up ... but they’re very sweet, I promise! They would never hurt anyone.”

But Max has already stumbled several more steps away, looking like he might pass out. “You want us to live with snakes? Actual slithering, scaly snakes?”

Charles shakes his head rapidly, hands up in front of himself defensively. “Oh no no no. This can’t be happening. Snakes are my worst fear!”

You cuddle Caramel gently, who flicks her tongue out placidly. “I know it’s a shock but once you get to meet them, you’ll see they’re harmless. Please, give them a chance for me?”

But Charles and Max only continue to edge away, staring at Caramel like she might lunge at them.

“I can’t do this. I can’t live with snakes,” Max chokes out before bolting back to the elevator.

Charles gives you a desperate, apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. We ... we need some time to process this.” He turns and races after Max, pressing the button to close the elevator doors repeatedly.

You stand there, shoulders slumping as you hold Caramel’s habitat close. Your eyes well up with tears. You’ve just moved in with the men you love more than anything and they can’t even stand to be near the pets that you consider your children.

Sniffling, you gently set Caramel’s habitat back in the car next to Cookie and Basil.

“It’s going to be ok,” you whisper to them, wiping your eyes. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll give them some time and hopefully they’ll come around.”

But a sob escapes as you think about the apartment that was supposed to be your new loving home but now instead only feels cold and unwelcoming.

Taking a shuddering breath, you smooth down your hair and lift your chin. You just need to be patient. And maybe do some exposure therapy to help Max and Charles overcome their fear.

You have to believe everything will work out in the end. Because the alternative — either losing the men you love or having to give up your precious snakes — is unthinkable.

***

You sit on a park bench in the middle of Monaco, the sun warming your face. But even the beautiful weather can’t lift your mood. Your heart aches thinking about the disastrous attempt to move in with Max and Charles earlier.

The looks of horror on their faces when they saw your pet snakes are seared into your mind. You really believed they would accept all parts of you when they asked you to move in. Now you just feel silly for ever thinking this could work.

A tear rolls down your cheek as you gaze down at the snake habitats next to you where your precious babies Caramel, Cookie, and Basil are curled up.

“I’m so sorry, my loves,” you whisper to them. “This is all my fault.”

The snakes flick their tongues out softly as if to comfort you. You manage a small, sad smile. At least you still have your scaly companions, even if your dream of living with your boyfriends has been shattered as painfully as possible.

You’re so lost in melancholy thoughts that you don’t notice two familiar figures approaching until they’re right in front of you.

“There you are,” Max says, slightly out of breath. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You look up with reddened eyes to see Max and Charles gazing down at you remorsefully. Charles holds a small cooler in his hands.

“What do you want?” You ask warily, shifting to try to shield your snakes from view.

Max winces at your defensive tone. “We want to apologize. We’re so sorry for overreacting earlier. It was just ... a huge shock.”

Charles nods earnestly. “We feel awful for upsetting you and the snakes. We want to make things right.”

He sets the cooler down and opens it, pulling out three frozen mice. Your snakes perk up at the sight of their favorite snack.

“We brought peace offerings,” Charles says with an anxious but hopeful smile. “We want to get to know Caramel, Cookie, and Basil. Will you please give us another chance?”

You bite your lip, torn between cautious optimism and lingering hurt.

Max kneels down beside you, taking your hand in his. “We were idiots. We should have handled it better. But the thought of losing you is unbearable. We don’t want to live without you.”

Charles sits on your other side, squeezing your shoulder. “We’ll learn to love your snakes because they’re yours. Please come home and give us a chance to make things right.”

His pleading green eyes and Max’s gentle blue ones melt your resolve.

Finally you nod, a tiny smile breaking through. “Okay. I’m willing to try again if you are.”

Their faces light up with relief. Charles eagerly grabs Cookie’s habitat as Max reaches for Caramel.

“Let the snake exposure therapy begin!” Max declares. They settle the habitats carefully on their laps.

You let out a soft laugh as they lean in curiously. Caramel and Cookie slowly slither closer, flicking their tongues as they examine Max and Charles.

Charles yelps as Cookie boops her nose against the glass right in front of his face. Max laughs, though he looks nervous having Caramel so close.

You scoot over next to Max, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Go ahead, you can touch her. Gentle strokes along her back.”

Max gulps but tentatively reaches out, lightly petting Caramel’s head. His eyes widen in surprise. “Wow, she’s so smooth and soft!”

Charles gains courage from Max’s bravery and mimics him, stroking Cookie’s back. A small grin starts to spread across his face. “This is actually kind of nice!”

You beam proudly. “See, I told you they’re sweethearts.”

The boys relax as they grow more comfortable petting the snakes. All the tension from earlier fades away.

“We really are so sorry,” Max says, lifting your hand to his lips for a kiss. “No more overreacting. From now on, we promise to embrace all of you — even the scaly parts.”

Charles leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Please come home. It’s not home without you.”

Your throat tightens with emotion. You throw your arms around them in a big hug, snakes and all.

“Let’s go home,” you whisper.

***

Max clutches the steering wheel, brow furrowed in concentration as he races on his simulator. The wheels start to skid and he fights to keep control of the virtual car.

“Nice save,” his teammate Gianni says over the headset.

Max grins, glancing at the livestream camera filming him. “Just warming up the tires, mate.”

As he comes out of the chicane, he feels something brush his ankle. Probably one of the cats pestering him while he’s trying to drive.

“Not now, Sassy,” he murmurs, downshifting to take on the next corner.

But then Max feels smooth scales glide across his foot.

He yelps, hitting the brakes reflexively. The car spins out, the livestream immortalizing every second of his shocked expression.

“You okay?” Gianni asks, oblivious to the cause of Max’s surprise.

Max looks down to see Caramel curling happily around his simulator pedals. She must have escaped her habitat … again.

“Uh yeah, I just had a little visit from one of Y/N’s snakes,” Max says with a breathless laugh. “Nearly gave me a heart attack but I’m alright.”

He hears Gianni cracking up through the headset. “Oh man, I forgot you guys took in those snakes too! They just slither around while you’re racing huh? That’s wild.”

Max carefully picks up Caramel, her smooth scales sliding over his hands. She flicks her tongue out innocently.

“Clever girl, sneaking in here while I was focused on driving,” Max coos, unable to be mad at her. He makes sure the livestream audience gets a good view. “Say hi to the fans, Cara!”

The live chat fills with snake emojis and laughs. Gianni fake-shudders through the headset. “You’re a braver man than me, letting those things just wander around. No thanks!”

Max grins, gently stroking Caramel’s head. “They’re not so bad once you get to know them. Just gotta respect their space. Right, sweetie?”

Caramel bobs her head as if in agreement. The live chat melts over how cute she is.

“If you say so,” Gianni says. “Now put the danger noodle away and let’s get back to racing!”

“She’s not a danger noodle, she’s a sweetheart,” Max protests with a laugh. But he dutifully returns Caramel to her habitat before hopping back in the simulator.

Later that day, you come home from work to find Max laughing at the snippets of his stream that fans have shared online.

“I had a special guest appearance from one of our scaly housemates today,” he says, pulling you down onto his lap to show you the clip of Caramel surprising him mid-race.

You laugh, “She just hates being cooped up.”

“Clearly,” Max says wryly. But his eyes are soft as he gazes at you. “You were right though — they are growing on me. Never thought I would say that about snakes but here we are.”

He kisses you sweetly. You cup his cheek, brushing your thumb over his stubble as you feel your heart swell to triple its size.

“I’m really proud of you. And Caramel definitely got your stream some extra views today!” You tease.

Max groans. “I’ve gone soft! But I guess for you and our unconventional little family, I can make an exception.”

You snuggle into his chest, perfectly content. Having supportive partners who cherish both you and your scaly babies makes all the difference. And you have to admit, seeing your tough boyfriend coo over Caramel was pretty darn cute.

***

Race day morning in Monaco is always a whirlwind. You kiss Charles and Max goodbye as they rush out the door to head to the circuit, matching Louis Vuitton backpacks slung over their shoulders. Little do any of you know, a small scaly stowaway has curled up inside of one.

In the Ferrari motorhome, Charles is changing into his race suit when he hears startled shouts from some mechanics. He turns to see Cookie, peeking her head out of his backpack, flicking her tongue as she takes in the unfamiliar location.

“Cookie! What are you doing here?” Charles asks with a laugh. The mechanics back away nervously.

Charles gently picks her up. “It’s okay, she is perfectly harmless. This is one of my girlfriend’s pet snakes.”

Cookie wraps around Charles’ hand, seeking warmth. He smiles and strokes her scales.

“Well, I guess you’re the team mascot now,” he tells her. “Let’s find you a nice Ferrari bandana to wear.”

He ties the red fabric around Cookie, who seems quite pleased with her new accessory. Charles carefully sets her around his shoulders and heads out to the paddock.

As expected, the other drivers have mixed reactions to the surprise reptile visitor. Lewis grins and comes over to pet Cookie, happy to see a fellow animal lover. Meanwhile Lando takes one look and speed-walks in the opposite direction.

“If Roscoe can attend races then so can snakes,” Charles argues when there are murmurs about animals not being allowed in the pit lane. He scratches under Cookie’s chin proudly. “Right, ma belle?”

When Max arrives for the drivers parade, he bursts out laughing at the sight of Cookie draped around Charles’ neck.

“Y/N will get a kick out of this,” he says, giving the snake a little chin rub. “But I can’t let you outdo me!”

He quickly ties a Red Bull bracelet around Cookie, perfectly sized to be a snake necklace. “There, now she can root for both of us!”

You’re watching the broadcast in hospitality when the camera pans to show Charles, Cookie curled contentedly around his shoulders.

Your jaw drops.

“Oh my god!” You exclaim with a laugh. But your heart melts seeing Charles parade her around like a princely scarf. And her new accessories are just too cute.

In the end, Cookie seems to bring Charles good luck. He takes the chequered flag and snags his first home victory, the curious snake cheering him on the whole time from where she’s cozily curled up in your lap.

On the podium, Charles grins up at the cameras with Cookie snaking her way to wrap around his cap. “We make a great team!” He proclaims, holding up the little snake like she’s Simba in the Lion King.

The crowd laughs and applauds. You watch with delight, shaking your head at this ridiculous man and his new snaky sidekick.

Later, back home after a long night of jumping from club to club, you lavish both Charles and Cookie with praise and kisses.

“I can’t believe our girl got to be part of your special l day!” You cuddle her close. “She must have loved all the excitement.”

Charles grins and slides his arms around your waist. “It was meant to be. She’s my new Monaco Grand Prix lucky charm!”

Cookie bobs her head happily. She’s clearly enjoyed her big day out.

You laugh as Charles spins you around the living room in an impromptu victory dance while Max records the two of you with a proud smile. Having supportive partners who not only accept but celebrate all aspects of you — even the reptilian ones — is a dream come true.

This really is the perfect unconventional family.

***

Sunlight streams through the curtains, rousing you from sleep. You stretch languidly, sandwiched between Max and Charles’ warm bodies. What a perfect way to wake up.

Charles nuzzles into your neck, planting soft kisses along the stretch of skin. “Good morning, mon amour.”

You hum happily, tilting your head to capture his lips in a kiss. His hand trails down your side, fingers dancing over your hip.

On your other side, Max presses up against you, his muscular frame molded to yours. His nose grazes your jaw as his lips find your shoulder.

You sigh blissfully at the sensation of being cradled between them. Their hands wander reverently across your body as they pepper you with kisses.

Then you feel something long and firm nudge against your thigh under the sheets. You smirk, assuming one of them is getting frisky.

“Is that a banana or are you just happy to see me?” You tease.

Max and Charles exchange confused looks over you.

You frown and reach down to grab whatever is poking you ... and feel familiar dry scales. Your eyes go wide.

Throwing back the sheets reveals Basil curled up happily on your leg.

“Basil!” You exclaim as Max and Charles shriek in surprise.

Basil just flicks his tongue out, pleased as can be to have found such a cozy sleeping spot.

You fall back against the pillows laughing while Max and Charles look on with wide eyes.

“So much for a romantic morning in bed,” Max grumbles. But his smile tells you that he’s not truly mad.

Charles runs a hand through his rumpled hair, grinning ruefully. “We really need to snake-proof the apartment.”

You scoop up Basil, giving him a gentle scolding. “What are we going to do with you, silly boy? You just love snuggling, don’t you?”

Basil bobs his head unrepentantly. Max shakes his head and comes over to scratch under his chin.

“Oh you little snake. Gave us quite the surprise!”

Charles joins you both, reaching out tentatively to pet Basil. “I have to admit, the look on your face was pretty priceless, mon ange.”

You swat his shoulder but let him pull you into his lap. Basil winds happily around your wrists as you kiss.

Max presses up behind you, hands wandering your body as he nuzzles into your hair.

“Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” He murmurs.

You laugh as they topple you backwards onto the pillows, peppering you with kisses. Basil slithers away happily and you lose yourself in your lovers’ embrace.

Later, basking in the afterglow, you glance over to see Cookie and Caramel have joined Basil in exploring the room. You really do need to snake-proof better.

But as Max pulls you against his chest and Charles winds his arms around your waist from behind, you can’t find it in you to care right now.

“Our lives may be crazy with these snakes,” Max presses his lips to your temple, “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Charles hums in agreement, dotting kisses on your shoulder. You cover their hands with your own, heart overflowing with love.

Is your little family unconventional? Yes. Chaotic? Absolutely. But also wonderfully, perfectly yours.