#beta reader guide

[tavyliasin]

Beta Reading FanFiction - A Guide for Readers and Writers!

Let's just start this off right away - hi there fic writers who prefer to "no beta we die like [character]"! I used to be a lot like you, but then I found that when I struggled or didn't know what to do in a piece, or my confidence in it waned entirely, the one thing that saved the fic and helped it to reach its full potential was a trusty Beta Reader or two! So, this guide will be aimed at both writers themselves and Beta Readers, and of course those who are interested in becoming both/either and want to get more of a feel for what to expect and how to be more helpful to one another with Beta Reading and editing works. Let's begin, shall we? I'll pop up a header for each section to make it easier to go over as well~

Why Use Beta Readers?

When we're writing a piece, it is very easy to get into the flow and overlook minor mistakes. Also, when we know our story inside and out, we might be forgetting to explain a plot point or set it up properly for the payoff later, and sometimes we might even be overexplaining something that is better left to the space between the lines to let the reader get a feel for it without holding their hand to every realisation. The point is, we can be too close to our works. Fresh eyes and opinions can see things that we couldn't, and a good Beta can also give you confidence back and motivation if you're struggling with block or losing faith in your style/story/ability.

Why not rely on Google/Spellcheck? Grammarly?

The automatic tools in most programs won't always pick things up that you need them to, like maybe you used the same word 3 times in one paragraph. To a reader that'll sound off, it'll break the flow, but a spell checker won't notice it at all. Sometimes, too, automated tools can make entirely incorrect suggestions. I have had them try to suggest I change words that were used and spelled perfectly into other words that did not fit the context or purpose in the slightest. No, google, they purred in her ear, not pureed. They didn't pull out a blender from nowhere... These automated tools - and particularly things like Grammarly - are also no good at all for things like style or speech patterns. They might be wonderful for professional emails or checking over an essay, but when it comes to creative writing they tend to fall far short of the mark.

How do I find Beta Readers?

Sometimes you might find willing Beta Readers amongst your audience, other times you may well need to look further afield. One method can be looking at creative communities and fandom communities for the fandom/characters you're writing about. Another could be offering a beta-swap with another writer so you help check each others' works over.

How do I offer to Beta Read or find works needing checks?

You could approach a writer directly if you want to, but you will likely find that offering to beta read for people will quickly bring up those who are looking for them. There might be fic and writing communities specifically looking for beta readers to help out. There's more often a shortage of feedback than there is a shortage of works that need it! I do, however, recommend that you keep a list of "red light topics" with your offers. Let people know the things you are not willing/able to read. Almost everyone has content types they're not comfortable engaging with for any number of reasons - you don't have to explain why, just be honest and say "I am not able to beta read works containing topics x, y, and z." Anyone demanding you give them your reasoning for not wanting to read those topics does not deserve the answer. Boundaries are there to be respected and keep us all safe.

How does it work? What do I need to set up first?

One of the easiest ways to comment and give feedback is by using Google Docs. Those of you familiar with GDocs, or those not interested in using them, can feel free to skip ahead to the next section now! When using google docs, if you are reading and commenting on peoples' works and your legal name is connected to your google email account, it is worth considering a secondary email account and google profile under your username/pseudonym to maintain your anonymity and comfort. I do this myself, I have a separate email I use for fic writing (which also helps keep my Google Drive neater!) and open the windows with the different accounts.

The black arrow there shows the profile icon that brings up this menu, then you can click the Add option at the bottom to have a new profile in your browser. I find it also helps to use the settings to colour code them, so while my main email ID uses a black colour scheme and window border, for this account I have purple. That way I know which account I'm in when I open a document to read it for someone, and keep my main email and ID separated.

When sharing your document, you'll need to decide on the level of privacy. Generally with fic I will use the option for "anyone with the link can comment" and share the link in specific discord servers with beta readers, or in other cases send it privately via DM. The upside of this is it is easy to use, and you do not need to manually approve access for anyone offering reads. The sharing menu is on the top right of your doc, and it will bring up this window for you. The first open box will allow you to type in specific email addresses to give access only to those people (see further down). Otherwise, clicking where it says restricted gives you the option to change to "Anyone with the link", after which you can select whether people with that link can view, comment on, or edit the document. It's important to note that if you give someone editor access, they can change the document without you approving or denying changes. Commenter access still allows for changes to be suggested, but you will ultimately have to approve them for the main document to change. More examples of that later! And as the title may suggest, the Viewer access will not allow the reader to make any suggestions on the work at all.

If you keep with restricted and enter an email address, it will give you a new window where you can choose the access level, decide if the added people should receive an email notifying them of access, and add in a message that will go with that email if it is selected.

What If I Do Not Use Google Docs?

Whilst GDocs is a commonly used standard, and relatively user friendly, not everyone may feel comfortable with the way it works particularly with email addresses. It's up to you what other systems you might like to use, but ideally your reader should be able to access at least a copy of the document that they are able to edit and/or annotate. Make sure that the format you use is compatible for your reader, and it is likely a good idea to save another copy of your original unedited work in case you want to compare the suggested changes to your original.

What you should let your Beta Reader know, or what a reader can ask the Writer before reading

First things are the obvious ones for writers - the word count of your piece, a brief synopsis including characters involved, and if there is a deadline for receiving the feedback. Prospective beta readers can give an idea of the maximum length of work they are willing to go over as well as an estimate of how long it will take to get through it with feedback. This helps you to both know what the expectations are and can alleviate the anxiety of "I haven't heard back from the beta read yet, is it because the work is that bad?" The most important thing though is to let your Beta Reader know what CWs and TWs are present in your work. It's not good for anyone to expose them to triggers and content they can't handle without warning! If you haven't worked out your list of CWs yet, then you need to be up front in this and find a reader who is either fine with reading without CWs, or who can tell you their "no read" list of topics so you can know if you included any of those that they wish to avoid. If you are a reader offering your services, it can help to keep your list of topics, characters, and tropes that you are not comfortable reading about. You don't have to push yourself to engage with triggering content just to help someone out, even if they're you're very best friend in the world. Your boundaries and comfort matter. After that's out of the way, you need to think about what you do and don't want out of the beta reading. Are you looking for detailed notes on the pacing and characterisations? Is there a segment you are unsure on that you'd like to change? Or do you just need a quick pass to make sure there's no obvious mistakes or continuity errors? If a beta reader knows what to look for - and sometimes more importantly what not to look for - it can help them as they go over your work. If you are a reader and the writer hasn't given you specific guidance, don't be afraid to ask them what they need to know. The kinds of things that people tend to want feedback on might be: - Overall plot. Is it enjoyable? Are there any weak points? - Continuity. Are there any mistakes or inconsistencies? - Spelling and grammar. Particularly for those writing in a secondary language, this could be something they would like particular attention on. Others may feel they don't want their grammar "corrected" if they have a specific style that they like writing with. - Character voices. Do the characters act and sound true to how they should in canon/headcanon? - Specific sections. That bit in the fifth paragraph, does it make sense? Was the opening strong enough to catch interest? - Length and pacing. Did the story and action progress in a satisfying way? Is the piece too long or short? - CWs and Tags. Do the listed tags and CWs cover everything? Are there any things that have been missed out, or any things that are listed but aren't present in the fic? - Readability. Is it clear what's happening even to someone for whom English is a secondary language? This is where having Beta readers with English as a secondary language can be really helpful, because some things might not quite feel the same to some of those readers in your audience too so adjusting them helps widen your appeal.

How To Present Feedback

A lot of feedback is easier to give in the document itself. With Google Docs comment mode, you can highlight individual lines to add a comment, or you can even make in-line editing suggestions.

If you're suggesting a small change like punctuation or grammar, it can be best to do these as in-line edits that can be accepted or rejected by the owner of the document quickly and easily.

Bigger changes like suggesting rewording a full line, or fixing continuity details, are better done as comments which can facilitate a back and forth discussion on how to handle the editing and solution to it. It's also easier to look at the change compared to the original this way, as in-line editing for longer sentences can take up a lot of space. As you can see in the top image, a lot of these longer suggestions will look less clear, but the bottom allows for more of a back and forth to develop the editing.

You might also want to leave some overall feedback, a summary of your interpretation of the work as well as the continuity, content, and anything else that the author was looking for.

It's good to make sure you have some positive as well as the changes needed to polish up the piece, and when suggesting changes try to keep them as open suggestions that the author can choose to work with or not, rather than presenting them as imperative. Keep in mind that sharing "unfinished" work can be really daunting, especially for a newer writer! We all benefit from some confidence boosts, and that helps us achieve the pinnacle of what we're able to accomplish in our works too. People don't tend to learn and improve if their passion is drained away by negative feedback. Remember your role as a Beta Reader is to encourage and support, to enable the writer to make the little changes to their piece that will help their story shine to its full potential!

What Should You Not Say In Beta Feedback

With the last part above in mind, the biggest thing is to not try to take over the writer's vision for their story and characters. Present your ideas as options the writer can choose to use or not, and remember it is their work at the end of the day.

A big thing here is never leave only negative feedback, that's an obvious one. But also please never leave a work without any feedback at all - if you feel like you're not able to give the work its due, for any reason whatsoever, please tell the writer so they know not to wait for your feedback. It can be so draining to have no response and wonder if it's because the work is so bad that the Beta Reader started but didn't want to continue. It is perfectly fine to tell a writer you can't continue, just do so with care! Either "unfortunately I no longer have the free time to beta this piece, but I wish you all the best with it", or "sadly there are things in this work that I'm not comfortable with reading, so I hope you are able to find someone who might be better suited to works containing [cw or trope]" and let them know it is not an issue of the piece's quality but instead is a personal thing unrelated to their skill as a writer. You are under no obligation to give free beta feedback on a work that makes you uncomfortable, or if other things take priority - it's a free favour we give to our fellow creatives, an offer to help, not a paid role or obligation.

Also do keep in mind what the writer has requested from the Beta Read - if they don't want lore accuracy info then it's not helpful to comment on the misuse of a spell or the wrong year referenced. Look at what the writer needs from you, and try to fill that for them!

What is useful feedback?

Useful feedback would be things we can build on, suggestions that keep to the spirit of the piece and the mood the writer is aiming for. If a sentence doesn't flow well, try to pinpoint why, and even better give a couple of options of how to rework it if you can. It doesn't help to say "this paragraph doesn't really work for me" but it is helpful to say "the pacing in this paragraph isn't quite flowing with the rest of the piece, it might help to...[either add a suggestion or two, or suggest reworking it on a basis of pacing]" When suggesting a change, it helps to mention why that change is being suggested. Particularly if someone uses English as a secondary language, they might not realise that the way they've ordered words doesn't quite work for English, or that a particular word doesn't work in the context that they're using it in. Beta feedback can be a powerful learning tool in improving future works, and it's easier to learn when there's a reasoning behind it~

What if the writer rejects the suggestion?

That's ok! Remember that it isn't a reflection on your ideas or your ability as a beta reader - at the end of the day, the story belongs to the writer and it is up to them what they would like to do with it. There may be things they agree with, but equally there could be times that the suggestions don't work for what they're aiming for. Try not to take anything personally, your job is there to help suggest, not to take over the editing in full.

What if I'm not happy with the feedback from my Beta Reader?

Beta readers are there to give you suggestions, not orders, and it is completely ok to discuss the options or just reject the changes. You're the author of your work, and it's up to you to know what you're happy with. It can help to listen to outside opinions, but at the end of the day that is all they are - opinions, and those can differ between people a lot! Because of this it can help to have a second (or more) Beta look over your work and give an alternative opinion. Sometimes that might mean they agree with previous feedback, catch something the other person missed, or they might agree with your idea rather than the other reader. Either way, having that second opinion can help you feel confident in your decisions by knowing you have more of a range of views.

Should I credit my Beta Readers?

That's up to you and your Betas what you're comfortable with! Sometimes people put up a general "thanks to my beta readers" in the notes, or other times if both parties agree then a writer can tag or name Beta Readers in the notes as thanks. That's up to the writer and reader, and we shouldn't be offering our services only in hopes of being credited visibly on works.

But it is generally good practice to at least verbally thank your beta readers for their hard work - after all, they've done this for free and helped you out! Swapping beta readings can be a great way to feel like an even trade of your time and energy, and could even form a strong working relationship together if you find you are compatible with content and feedback!

So, What Now?

If you have any questions, or indeed comments about things I've missed or things you feel I may be wrong about, please do let me know in comments! I'm more than happy to edit this blog piece to help as a guide for my own creative cabal of fic writers as well as something that can be more widely used by those who aren't sure about becoming a beta reader or finding them~

Happy writing, everyone! May your works reach their full potential and truly shine~

[littleplantfreak]

TL;DR

Umemiya Hajime x Reader

wc: <900

Sfw

In more words than I can make a title out of, you read to your boyfriend Umemiya after he breaks his glasses.

“…Plants form flower buds only when they contain reserve food. This is true of plants grown for flowers or fruits. Rapidly growing plants, such, for example as Dahlias that have been too heavily fertilized and grown on rich soil, will produce prolific plants, stems and foliage, but few flowers…Hajime? Are you snoring?” you ask, though by now in your relationship, you can tell the slow heavy breaths that come with your boyfriend mean he's dozing as he holds you, rather than listening to you reading it.

“…mmh, sounds good Pumpkin,” he mumbles, half asleep as you look up at him with a sigh.

“Did you hear anything I just read?” you ask, not mad, but certainly exhausted from the monotony of the book. Audels Gardeners and Growers guide volume 4 was not for the casual gardener, nor was it something you yourself were interested in.

Two days ago during a maybe too enthusiastic make out session in his room, Umemiya managed to fully crush his glasses, frames and all with his elbow, though neither of you noticed until you got up the next morning with one of the lenses having pasted itself to your thigh as you slept before uncerimoniously falling on the floor with a small tink as you got out of bed.

It wasn’t too big a deal; he barely used them unless he was reading...except for the fact that he reads. A lot. Much more than you’d think a retired gang leader would at least, and although it was cute for the first few minutes, him holding his book out as he tried to squint-read the words had become a problem. The squinting was giving him migraine that even he couldn't brush off as nothing.

“I’ll just read it to you until you get your glasses back from the eye doctor's. It's partially my fault they're broken anyways.”

“Really?! You're gonna read to me?” he’d asked, and you're sure if it were possible, he'd have stars in his eyes. That was when he drug out blankets from the closet and made mugs of tea for you both before settling you to sit between his legs in the recliner, having you lean back against his broad chest. The blankets over you were icing on the cake, leaving you both more than comfortable for this.

Cracking open the book, you began where he'd left off on the page, but the more you read, the less sounds and comments he'd make, until finally, painfully, you read to where you're at now, stuck on this chapter about plant fertilization.

"Hajime, your tomatoes are escaping," you say, testing just how far gone he is.

“Huh? Catch them,” he breathes, and you know for sure that he’s listening but definitely not listening.

He only really starts to wake up when you shake him awake with your laughter, his continued nonsensical answers cracking you up. You lost it when you told him he had to bounce on it.

"Bounce on it?

"Crazy style," you nod solemnly, doing your best Nosferatu impression before you bark with laughter. Your laugh dies down as his arm tightens around you, the haze of sleep finally clearing.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, just that I both managed to convince you that your tomatoes were taking a vacation to Costa Rica, and that my middle name is William. You said it was beautiful," you snicker, feeling him chuckle as he leans forward to blow a raspberry right on your cheek.

"Wha- A sneak attack?"

"That's what you get for bullying me in my sleep." You can recall a few times he's bullied you in your sleep and it wasn't anything as innocent as this.

"That's what you get for falling asleep while I was reading to you."

"It's not my fault your voice is soothing. I don't think I've ever slept better. Maybe you're a siren? Hypnotizing and tempting me into sleep infested waters," he teases, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. He definitely been reading too many bedtime stories to his siblings again.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, because you are also insanely cheesy,” you laugh, dog-earring the page in the book. While this wasn't productive for reading, you can't say it wasn't at least relaxing to a point.

“I’m lucky you’re mine,” he smiles, leaning back in the recliner further to curl you up closer in his arms. “Will you read to me again sometime? I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep, but I really do love hearing your voice.”

It’s a bit embarrassing to hear, because you know it’s true. He’ll call you any time you’re free, saying that he just really missed hearing you. Looking on his phone, he’s saved every voice message you’ve ever sent. He’s absolutely shameless about you and you can’t bring yourself to be anything but shameless about him too.

“Mm…I guess this siren can spare a little of my voice for you.”

[momobutveryhorny]

I've just finished writing the first chapter of an HDG fic :3 I've not written like this in a very long time and it's been super liberating! I've got a lil over 4k words of setup so far and if anyone would like to beta read it, pls let me know

[megaerakles]

When the fic that’s lived in your head for like three years is So Cool but the second you sit down to write any of it you’re like This Is Literally The Stupidest Scene You Have Ever Written 😔😔😔

[gremlinanalyst]

me: “so-“

my beta: (looks me in the eyes) “you have another hobby…don’t you?”

me: “you know me so well, luna.”

my beta: “and you want my advice.”

me: (hesitantly) “if you don’t mind.”

my beta: “send me the link.”

me: “okay, bestie!”

my beta: “grem-“

me: “my beautiful light.”

my beta: “please-“

me: “my moon to my stars.”

my beta: “good lord. you obnoxious fucking bastard.”

me: “I’m your obnoxious bastard though.”

my beta: “yes. yes.”

me: “…”

my beta: (fondly) *sighs* “i love you, grem.”

me: (squeals) “i love you too, my moon!”

[mehmetyildizmelbourne-blog]

The First Chapter of New Book “Substack Mastery” for Beta Readers

Why I wrote this book and how freelance writers and content entrepreneurs can benefit from it Introduction to My New Book for Free A few months ago, when I publicly announced that I would dedicate 80% of my time to Substack, 15% to Newsbreak, and just 5% to Medium, I received an intriguing call from one of my book publishers. This serendipitous encounter was inspiring, much like one of my…

[bugnormanwrites]

Published Works

The Late Frankie Donetti

The Last Ever Ever Taco Drive-Thru on Arkets 4

Current Projects

untitled sci-fi novel

Gooey, a short story collection

The Vegetarian's Guide to Killing Everything, a novella

Other Services

Stickers and art

Beta reading

Editing

Any questions, comments, or snide remarks, please send me an ask.

[navybrat817]

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[i-like-loserz]

apt for two

pairing: san x reader

cw: smut (18+), drunk!san with needy-desperate vibes (as always), afab!reader, friends-to-lovers, praise kink, mommy kink, handjob, nipple play (m!recieving), breeding kink, unprotected piv, eternal boner (you'll find out), mention of asian glow, san's fancam, not beta-read, etc.

wc: 4k (wow)

note: I WAS SUPPOSED TO FINISH LIKE THREE 1/4 DONE FICS BUT INSTEAD IM DOING THIS :) also i get asian glow too, so i love the representation i'm getting with drunk-teez!

1 shot

tonight was supposed to involve a pregame at your place before bar-hopping, but somebody decided to ditch you and turn in early (wooyoung). of course, it wasn't until 9:30 that you got the text.

you'd been waiting so patiently, only having one drink. you were saving the rest to share with your friends once he arrived. it was supposed to be the three of you, but now it's just--

2 shots

"maybe he's just tired because of work or something?"

san is sweet, trying to lighten your disappointment.

he just took his second shot, barely wincing as he swallows it quickly before gently setting the glass back on the counter -- you can tell he's trying to hide his distaste for the liquor.

"he's just hungover because he decided to go out without us last night, sannie..." you drone, "he's probably sleeping off the club."

"hm, you're probably right. but if he were here, it probably wouldn't be that fun if he's hungover."

"that's true..."

you pour another round of shots.

3 shots

"hey, let's play a game." san looks at you with bright eyes.

you can see it already -- the flush spreading across his cheeks. for such a big guy, he sure get tipsy easily.

"what kind of game? there's only the two of us."

"how about...apateu?"

"with two people?" he nods with a cute little smile. how could you deny him? "sure, if you want"

5 shots (for san)

you bite back an adoring smile as you watch san down a second shot. his expressions are a lot freer now, letting himself wince just from the smell of tequila, followed by a grossed-out groan after he takes it.

"okay, maybe we should stop. you've lost twice already." he's not very good at this game -- even when you let him pick the number for each turn.

"no, no, let's go again!" his eyes are glazed over, lids heavy from the liquor as he tries to convince you to continue.

you let a smile crack as you watch him sway prettily in front of you, "...you seem a lot more drunk than me though."

"hm?" he smiles back, "that's okay? right?"

you can't help but laugh at his adorableness. he picks up your shot glass and nudges it closer to you.

"just take one, so we're even."

it might just be the liquor, or that pretty blush on his face, but you're feeling bold.

"mm, but you had two, baby."

you say it so casually, yet he reacts to that word immediately. his expression is quickly replaced with something needy.

oh, so he liked that....

"t-then take two." he suggests with a stutter.

you pour yourself one more, right to the brim, and he watches on in awe. you drink it easily, enjoying the way san's eyes stare at your lips as you lick them clean.

"i don't think we're gonna make it to the bars tonight." you tease.

his small shy smile returns, "just stay here...with me, then."

5 shots + a glass of water (for san)

you guide san to the couch with a glass of water in your hand.

barely a few steps from the kitchen counter, he makes you stop for a moment so he can clumsily lace his fingers with yours.

"it's more secure" he murmurs shyly.

you don't say anything as you continue to lead him into the living room, but when you turn away you're biting your lip to stop yourself from pouncing on him.

you're afraid that your cuteness aggression will scare him away.

he immediately picks up a pillow to snuggle against his chest as he sits down. always needing something in his lap...

he looks up at you, all pink cheeks and smiles, as you set the glass of water down on the coffee table in front of him.

you sit down next to him and settle against the plush seat with a sigh.

"what now?" he asks eager and curious.

eager for what?

"well, first, drink some water," san obediently takes a few sips of water as you continue to speak, "do you want to watch a movie or something?"

you were planning on letting him crash on the couch, but how could you leave him when he's looking at you like that?

"hm..." he puts the glass down before looking back at you with a shy expression, "can we watch something else?"

"like what?"

"can i show you some of my fancams?"

"...fancams...?"

"yeah, i want to show you how i look in concert."

you almost giggle from how shy he's being. isn't tequila supposed to make you bolder?

"sannie, i've been to your concerts."

he pouts -- actually pouts, "but you haven't seen them like this!"

how could you deny him?

"ok, ok, let's have a look then."

you try to give him the remote to look it up, but he immediately struggles to type with it -- even turning off the tv at some point -- so you have to take over.

"so it's...'san fancam--'" you press in each letter individually.

"'--ice on my teeth 241115'" he finishes for you.

"...1...5..."

you finally type it all in and click on the video. you see woo (the ditcher of the night, you remind yourself) crouching in front of a sleekly dressed san, who looks very different from the soft and cuddly man next to you.

"how do you remember all of the numbers for the title?" you question as you finally relax back onto the couch.

he shrugs, "i dunno, i just do -- wait, start it over, we were talking during the start!"

"san, it's been like, two seconds."

"please??"

you start it over to placate him.

as you watch the video, you notice how quiet he is next to you.

he must be really into his own fancams...

you get it though. you've never watched his fancams before (you've only seen woo's because he forces you to binge them with him whenever you facetime), but he looks really good in that long coat, glasses, and with his hair slicked back like that, hitting every note with that stupidly handsome look on his face.

he looks so serious...so domineering. delectable.

so...not how you usually see him.

you turn to look at him, wondering if he's just as entranced by himself as you are -- but he's already looking at you.

you feel your cheeks heat up as you're caught ogling your friend, right in front of him.

"so...? do you like it?"

"yeah, it was a good performance, san."

"sannie." he corrects, "do you really like it, or are you just saying that?"

"no, i really like it--"

"which part? do you like the outfit? a lot of people say they like that outfit on me the most. but there's also one where i have on a see-through top..." he starts to ramble.

oh, now you know what he's looking for.

your voice is soft as you coo to him, "you looked great up there, sannie. so talented...and handsome." he smiles sheepishly as you compliment him, "did you show this to me because you wanted to show off? show me how good you are in front of a crowd?"

now he's shy.

"just wanted to know if you liked what you see."

you cradle his face with your hand, "you're so cute, baby," he melts against your touch, nuzzling his warm cheek against you, "just want some praise, hm?"

it's crazy that you have this man falling apart for you with a few words and a bare touch of your hand.

on stage, he looks so regal and put together.

right here? he looks undeniably soft and malleable.

"do you like me?"

"of course, i do." you caress his cheek with your thumb, enjoying the heat that radiates off his skin, "you're a sweetheart."

"no, like, do you like-like me?" his eyes meet yours, wide with hope and yearning.

"what, are we in middle school?" you tease.

he whines softly, "im serious"

you ignore his question and throw it back at him.

"do you like me?"

he's hesitant, timid, but eventually --

"mhm."

"oh really? since when?"

"since forever."

"why didn't you tell me?"

"because..." san briefly looks away, "because i don't know if you like me"

your hand drifts from his jaw to his chin. you can't help but admire his perfect features -- his fluffy hair, dark brows, intense eyes, cute nose, and...his lips.

you carefully glide your thumb over his pretty bottom lip, enamored by how pretty and pink it is.

he stutters out a breath.

"and if i do?"

"c-can you kiss me?" he sounds so sweet and timid when he asks. his eyes eagerly glance down at your lips as you drag his bottom lip down, revealing his pearly white teeth.

you're mesmerized by his mouth. you press against his perfect teeth and he opens up immediately, letting you drag your thumb against his soft tongue. he sucks it in, laving sweetly against the sensitive pad of your finger as he stares up at you, eager to please.

"such a good boy~"

he whines, brows furrowing in desperate need. what a sweet sound.

you move your hand from his mouth so you can get in a better position. you shift from the couch to his lap, wanting to feel his body against yours. his arms immediately loop around your body, finding your waist so he can press you closer.

you dip in, hand at the base of his neck to control him, and nudge your nose against his -- just to tease him. he tries to push up and press his lips to yours, but you stop him, hand firmly holding him back.

"what am i gonna do with you?" you shake your head, "silly boy..."

he looks confused, brows tighten together endearingly, an expression that's slightly embarrassed.

"i-i thought you wanted to kiss."

"did i say that?"

"n-no, but--"

"you think you're so pretty that anyone would let you hit?" your hand moves up to the center of his neck. you press gently on the sides of his throat, pulling a groan from his lips. "mm...maybe you are pretty..."

he shivers from the praise. you can tell he's trying to hold back, but he's still subtly trying to move his hips under you, desperate for any type of friction.

"please? just one kiss?"

"just one?" you ghost your lips on his.

he whimpers at the feeling. you guess his lips are especially sensitive.

"please"

you give in, leaning against his silky pink lips. you feel him melt against you, sighing into it like it's the sweet relief of water in a barren desert. he desperately attempts to pull you closer by your waist, but you're already firmly pressed against him.

he deepens the kiss, delicately licking against the seam of lips before diving in and dragging his tongue against yours. you taste the tequila and lust -- it makes you hungry for more. he moans prettily when you nip at his lips, sucking on the sweet, sensitive skin until it gets all puffy and plump.

when you break the kiss, he attempts to chase your lips for more, not ready to separate. you dodge his advances with an amused smile, loving how needy he is already.

"you said one kiss"

"mmm, i think i messed up on that one..." he swipes his tongue over his swollen lips as he stares hungrily at yours, eyelids heavy but gaze wanting, "can we try again?"

“maybe if you earn it again…”

he groans, “fuck,” he presses his hips against yours, making you feel how hard he is under his pants, “but i need you so bad, mommy.”

hearing that word slip from his beautiful lips almost makes you melt into a puddle, right on his lap. if it weren’t for the way you were straddling him, your thighs would’ve immediately pressed together from the amount of need you were feeling. 

you press down on him just as eagerly, panting from the pressure of his hard cock against your aching clit. 

"yeah? you gonna be a good boy and fill me up?"

"mhmm~" his deep voice drones, vibrating from his chest against yours, "please let me -- i need to be inside of you."

you roll your hips against him, coaxing cute whimpers from him with every press.

"think you deserve it?" you taunt. san can't even answer you, merely nodding with his eyes squeezed shut, reveling in the feeling of your body grinding against his.

your hands move down from his neck, over his chest and stomach before settling right against his covered cock. you can feel the way he twitches under his pants, desperately begging for attention.

he groans when you press against him, the minimal pressure is already too much for him to handle.

"you're already so hard for me." you stroke him over his pants, feeling the perfect contours of his erection even when separated by the fabric.

"m'always hard for you" he slurs, hips subtly flexed upwards in an attempt to feel more of you.

"let me see." you unbutton his pants with ease and use a bit of force to pull them off just far enough to reveal his pretty cock and the top of his legs. his blushing tip weeps delicately with beads of cum, already spilling against his shaft -- evidence of how close he already is to the edge.

when you wrap your hand around him, his body stiffens and his hands instantly grip over the top of your thighs to ground himself.

"w-wait...not yet--" he begs, head thrown back in ecstasy.

you haven't even done anything yet.

"sannie," you can feel him throbbing against your fingers, "baby, are you okay?"

"d-don't move." he shudders, "i m-might--"

you watch his facial expressions closely as you squeeze your fist around him, nearly drooling from the way his eyebrows scrunch together with intensity.

"oops..." you fail to hide your smile but it doesn't matter, he can't see it anyway. you swipe your thumb against the edge of his tip, massaging that sweet spot as his legs begin to shake.

you slip your other hand under his shirt, feeling up his muscled torso to his heaving chest. his skin is warm and smooth against your fingers and it makes you want to leave pretty marks all over him.

his back arches when you lazily drag your index finger against his nipple. you circle your finger around it experimentally and the needy bud hardens from your teasing touch.

"sensitive boy..." you hum.

he whimpers sweetly, "t-too much--"

you ignore his words and pinch his nipple. his mouth opens and he's barely able to take a handful of breaths before he's crying out in broken moans and thrusting against your hand. you work him through it with hushed praises, letting him fuck your fist until he's too weak to continue.

you take your other hand and run your fingers through his hair lovingly as his climax moves through him before caressing the back of his flushed neck. his overstimulated body shivers against your gentle touch, but he still leans into it.

he made a mess.

his cum spurted all over -- spilling over your hand and dripping on your lap -- so now, your pants (and his) are ruined. when san finally calms down a bit, he peeks down at the mess as well.

"i-i'm sorry, i tried to hold it in..." he stares at you with rounded eyes, sparkling with shame and embarrassment.

you tilt your head as you regard the flushed man before you, "if you're gonna be so messy, clean it up." he cowers slightly at your taunting words.

"h-how..."

you lift the hem of his shirt wordlessly and -- after a moment of confusion -- he obediently raises his arms to let you take it off. he watches on with a surprised expression as you bundle it up and use it to wipe your hands and lap.

"what? you thought i'd make you lick it up?" you tease, "didn't know you were that much of a pervert."

"i-no, i d-don't know." he stammers.

you accidentally brush against him as you're cleaning up and his body jolts harshly from the feeling. you gently move the shirt away and notice that he's still hard.

how the fuck--

he can feel your stare.

"u-um...it's..." he attempts to cover himself up with his hands, "this is normal." you throw his shirt to the side and take him by the wrists. you move his hands away and his cock twitches from your attention.

"is it?" when you look up at his face he's blushing, thoroughly embarrassed by his needy body.

"only...when i think of you." he says quietly, "y-you can just ignore it though." he stares at the way your smaller hands wrap around his wrists.

cute.

just to see what he'd do, you put his hands on your body, leading them up from your hips to your chest. he immediately gropes your tits in his large hands, letting out a pathetic noise.

"didn't know you were so insatiable..." you push him away and get off of his lap. he whines from the loss of contact but as soon as he sees you start to strip for him, he's silent, watching on in awe.

you pull off your shirt but leave your bra on -- just another way to tease and deprive him of what he wants. next, you shimmy off your pants before throwing them in his lap.

"look at the stains you left on them," you pout, "those were new." (no they weren't) "you're gonna have to buy me a new pair."

"yeah, o-ok, i'll buy you anything you want..." san ignores the pants and continues to stare at you with a cute spaced-out expression, refusing to miss even a second of you nearly naked in front of him.

he looks so good sitting there, waiting so patiently for you. his broad shoulders -- that stretch every shirt he owns -- lift every so often with the deep breaths he's taking.

his bare body is tan and fucking chiseled, you swear you could get off just grinding on his stupidly perfect abs. and the way he's keeping his hands to himself, despite how eager his cock stands for you.

when you start to approach him again, he shoves the stained clothing away to make room for you. you caress his face as you settle on top of him again.

"don't worry, baby, i'll help you."

"fuck, please."

back on top of him, you roll your hips so your covered cunt just barely grazes his hard cock. he lets out a helpless groan from the bare touch.

"oops, i forgot to take these off..." you snap the waistband of your panties against your hips, "is it okay if we just shove them to the side?" you ask, guiding his hand to feel the lace that decorates the edges.

he tugs at the fabric with thinly veiled frustration. you're surprised he hasn't lost it already. you loop your arms around his neck, letting him touch as much of you as he wants.

his hand travels under your thighs to press right over your clothed center.

"just don't mess these up too, okay?"

"i'll try my best" he presses the pads of his fingers against your cunt, feeling your wet slick soak through the thin fabric of your underwear. "f-fuck, you're already dripping."

"i'm all ready for you, sannie..." you press your hips against his hand, "you could probably just slip it right in" you whisper.

that's all the convincing it takes for him to push his hand under the fabric and run his finger against the soft lips of your cunt.

"feels good, baby~" you shove your face against the crook of his neck, mouthing and nipping against his skin. he hums gratefully at the praise -- it almost sounds like he's purring.

your slick coats his fingers as he rubs them against your sopping hole, gently pressing into you until you stretch around him. you bite your lip as he thrusts into you shallowly, barely able to finger-fuck you correctly because of how far his arm is stretched around your body.

you swear you're making a mess of his hand, dripping everywhere because of how much you want him inside of you. you pull your face away from his neck, eyes locking with his, "sannie, just fuck me."

you lift your hips up enough to press his weeping cock against you.

"b-but what about--"

you pull him in for a kiss and he immediately leans into it, melting against you once again. if you weren't so horny, you'd gush over how easy he is for you.

"don't worry, baby, i can take it."

san listens, pulling your panties to the side so he can position himself against you. he runs his cock against the seam of your cunt a few times to lubricate himself enough before slowly pushing against you. you press down at the same time, legs shaking slightly as your body stretches to accommodate his size.

"o-oh, fuck!" he chokes out, overwhelmed by the feeling of your soaking cunt sucking him in. you both moan when you sit all the way down, letting him fill you to the brim.

"mm...you fill me up so good, baby." you sigh, starting to roll your hips against him. he's so big that he presses against all the special spots inside of you with every move you make.

his hips involuntarily jerk upwards every time you lift your hips away from him, desperately needing to feel you all around him. he'd probably like cockwarming, you think -- or you would think if he wasn't fucking the thoughts from your mind.

"m-mommy, it's -- too much--" his hands wrap around your waist, squeezing faint bruises into your skin as he grapples with the feeling of your tightness fluttering around him.

your head tilts back as you speed up against him, "be good, sannie..." your breaths come out short and labored, "let mommy use your cock -- mm...fuck, yes." your mind is hazy as he hits all the right places inside of you.

he whines, pressing his face against your chest as you move against him, "i don't think i'm going to last." he twitches inside of you, already worked up to the edge.

"then go ahead," you breathe, "cum in me."

you feel the way his hips flex at the thought of filling you up, of making a mess out of you.

"i-i shouldn't..." he says -- but he's fucking up against you harder.

"why not, sannie?" you taunt, "don't want to get me pregnant?"

he lifts his head from your chest to look at you, "p-pregnant?"

"mhm," you smile down at him, "give me your babies so i can't go anywhere."

you're suddenly pressed against his hips, hard, his cock stretching you to your limit. you can feel him everywhere. you moan loudly, cunt fluttering uncontrollably from the intense pleasure he's pressing into you.

"you'd be mine?" he questions with an eager tone, almost innocently so. you can feel the way he throbs inside of you, just a touch away from tipping over the edge.

he refuses to move until you answer him.

so you try to. at least with the 1% of brain power he leaves you with.

"a-and you'd be mine." you can barely focus on the words you want to say.

san starts to shallowly thrust into you, "i'm already yours..."

"then i'm yours too."

his hands cradle your face as you continue to move against each other more desperately. he guides your face to his, pressing his lips against yours messily, teeth dragging and tongues mingling.

it's like he's only doing it to taste you. to feel you because he can't believe you're real. to claim your whole body because he can't take being away from you, even by a few centimeters.

you reach your highs together, moving perfectly in sync until you're both shaking in pleasure. you feel his hot cum fill you up, spurt after spurt -- so much in fact, you can feel it start to drip out of you, down his cock, and onto his lap.

"fuck, i might actually get pregnant from this." you say to yourself.

you feel him twitch inside of you again.

well, shit.

[ink-n-shadow]

Being knotted in John’s lap as he mumbles that he’s gonna breed you full of his babies right here in his office

(Or literally any of them bc 🫠🫠)

Or your boys rubbing their faces in your neck before they go to work in the morning bc they’ll be damned if they don’t go to work smelling like you

the second idea is so adorable heLLO???

SCENTING

𝜗𝜚 the one about how the pack!141 scents you (almost) every day

𝜗𝜚 pairing: packforce!141 x omega!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: slight smut at the end (minors—DNI), scenting, kissing/sucking scent glands, fingering (reader!receiving), allusions to threesome at the end

it would become so routine and mundane for the five of you, something that came almost as natural to you as breathing.

the routine would begin at around 4 in the morning when john begins stirring in bed, mumbling out your name as his hands pat around the mattress and other bodies for you. once he found you (which was curled up with johnny, most of the time), he’d tug you against him, instinctively burying his face into the side of your throat and nudging your scent gland with the tip of his nose. he would lap at it, give it a bite or two, smother it in soft almost feathery kisses, anything to make your sugary sweet scent stick to his skin.

and once john’s had his fill and gets out of bed to amble downstairs for coffee and a cigar, simon’s coming up from behind, tugging your back against his chest and holding your throat in the palm of his hand as he immediately attaches himself to your gland. he’s more primal in his movements than john is, taking long (almost lewd) drawn out sniffs from your neck as he rubs his stubbled cheeks in the smell of you. (he may or may not dip his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear, sliding through the wetness there before bringing his fingers up to lap at hungrily. but hey! at least he makes you come!)

seeing you whimpering and slack across the mattress is what makes kyle move over in bed, gathering your now jellied form into his arms and pushing your head into the crook of his neck. because kyle’s a beta, there is no scent gland for you to nuzzle into, but the smell of soap and lotion on his skin is enough to have you further relaxing in his arms, head still spinning and clit still throbbing beneath your underwear.

johnny only scoots over in the bed and cuddles up with you from behind when he notices the lack of body heat against him, making him whine sleepily and paw at the mattress until he finds you against kyle. by now, you’re drowning in the different scents covering your skin, not to mention the new scent of arousal and slick festering between your thighs. johnny finds comfort in them all, which immediately has his brain feeling dumbed and his cock twitching to attention.

if it’s not too late, johnny will let you ride him, with kyle in front of you and guiding your movements with his large hands pawing at your hips. if it is too late, then kyle’s drawing johnny out of bed with promises of a blowie in the shower

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][aged up!][college-type au][friends to more?][cute lil blurb][anal][sloppy fuck][spit down the crack][claustrophobia warning][finger-sucking][muffled][anal creampie][orgasm denial][mdom][just a lil' sumn-sumn][spit][rough sex][my beta reader is asleep][for my anon mark girlies][no plot, just porn]

"Thank God you're here." Mark hisses under his breath, slender fingers wrapping around your wrist before tugging you towards one of the random closets, and shoving you in, alongside coats and brooms.

"Play Truth or Dare with me."

The request catches you off guard, and you stare at him, upper lip curled in distaste.

"What am I, twelve?"

"No, you're my best friend and you need to do twelve year old things with me." He huffs before pursing his lips. "That didn't come out right but—"

"Why are you playing Truth or Dare anyway?" You question. "You don't like party games."

"I got roped into it! Now you need to help me or else."

"Or else what?"

"Exactly."

You let out a huff, swatting Mark in the back of his head, watching as his hands reach for the back of his scalp, brows creasing into a pinched frown.

"I'm not letting you rope me into the potential situation of putting my mouth on someone else's filthy ass, dirty ass, grimy ass mouth."

You seethe.

"That's like saying you want me to put a turd in my mouth. Because that's what'll happen."

"But you might get to put your mouth on my mouth. Isn't that better?" Mark tries to appease you, brilliant brown eyes twinkling as he looks down at you, his hands moving to rest on your shoulders, thumbs brushing against the soft skin exposed by the rather wide-neck of your T-shirt.

"A cute cat turd is still a turd, Mark." You deadpan before letting out a huff, scowling up at him.

"Fine." You hiss. "But you owe me."

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

"And we meet again."

The grin that creeps onto Mark's face is shit-eating, dimples in his cheeks popping and he leans back against the wall, arms crossing over his broad chest, and you watch the lean muscles of his arms flex. Definitely intentional.

Just like the dare to be in the closet.

"You're vagina repellent in a knitted sweater. I hope you know that."

The laugh that Mark let's out is melodious, slivers of light creep under the door and paint the wooden interior with faint light, features shadowy as Mark drops to the floor, legs extended and jeans straining against the muscles of his thighs.

It's an appealing sight.

Invincible, staring up at you through dark lashes, chocolate hued eyes locked on your form in that way that's always been too... Assessing to be friendly. And a hand wraps around your ankle, his thumb gently brushing over the tightly wound laces of your boot before gently guiding your foot to rest over his crotch. He feels the weight of your leg and you feel the weight of his gaze, boring into you.

"That was mad smooth, wasn't it?" Mark breaks the tension-ridden silence and your only answer is a snort, before you crouch down, planting yourself on his shins instead of sitting on the floorboards.

"It was, I'm not gonna lie." You concede, your thighs on either side of you, sneakers tucked on either side of your ass and your hands rest lazily on Mark's thighs.

"How long do we need to be in here?" You question with a hum, picking at the lint of his jeans, attention lowered so that you don't have to meet that million-eyed stare of his.

"15-ish minutes." Mark hums. "20 if we wanna do something."

The snort that leaves your lips has his mouth twitching into a little grin. He's always loved the way your lips curl, the way your eyes twinkle the slightest bit and the way your chest heaves when you take that breath.

"Is that you telling me you wanna do you something?" You tease with a hum, leaning forward and tugging playfully on the V-neck of his sweater vest.

There's always been a bit of a 'will-they won't-they' situation between you and Mark.

Shy gazes, and soft touches, the way your eyes would automatical crinkle at the corners whenever you'd catch sight of him and the way his jokes would automatically become more pandered towards you than anyone else.

Mark genuinely doesn't give a shit if no one else finds him funny, but as long as you do, it's a win.

Even if it's just a stupid snort that leaves you.

"Yeah." Mark's voice breaks the silence, his tongue dragging slowly across his top row of teeth, from one canine to the other. "I wanna do something."

"Shit—" You gasp, the coolness of the closet wall pressed against your cheek, hands splayed against the surface and your skirt around your waist, panties discarded to God knows where and Mark's voice is a breathy pant, his hips snapping against yours.

The burning stretch is painful, your nails nearly peeling paint from the walls before Mark's hips slow to a tantalizing grind, his hands moving from the cool surface of the wall before palming the fleshy globes of your ass, spreading the plush and looking at where your tight, furled hole sucks him in so sweetly, pulsing around his thick, weepy cock.

"Ohhhh, so fuckin' pretty."

Your gummy walls flutter when you feel that cooling glob of spit run down the crease of your ass, parting only to lubricate where Mark has you speared on his cock, hips rolling and grinding to reach the deepest crevices of your insides.

His palm collides with the jiggly flesh of your ass, and he drinks in your weak, whiny whimpers, as your hands continue to attempt to stabilize you inbetween the mindboggling thrusts that have your tongue lolling and drool trickling down your bottom lip.

Two digits force your plush lips to part, fingertips pressing against the flat of your tongue, fucking your mouth sloppily while his cock continues to fuck into you with reckless abandon.

"Where am I?" Mark huffs, one hand grasping the fat of your ass cheek with the desperation of a man dying in 20 minutes and his other fucks your mouth, fingers bullying the back of your throat until you gag, thick globs of saliva spilling from your lips with each painfully hard thrust.

"Tell me where I am." He repeats.

"M—my ass..." You whine, words muffled and eyes brimming with tears, your mascara's ruined and your lipgloss is smeared across your chin.

Mark's cock twitches, smearing precum against your sensitive walls that keep sucking him in with neediness, your cunt clenching around nothing and slick dripping down your thighs. There's nothing that makes him harder than the way your eyes flutter when he hits particularly deep, when he leans forward and gets even deeper.

He likes the way your voice deepens and you let out that groan that makes his hips stutter just a bit.

"Tell me you like it." He breathes out, smearing his saliva and spit covered hand across your features, very much ruining your makeup and you gasp shakily. "Tell me I'm doing a good job, baby. And I'll let you come."

The promise of being able to extinguish that paining burn that's been fizzing in your belly is magnetic and you don't even know when your swollen lips part to whine and mewl.

"I like— I love the way you fuck m-my ass— ...shit— you're so good at fucking me, Mark. Don't stop, please."

You sound pathetic and if you weren't so cock drunk, you'd have cringed at how weak you sound.

But your back is arched like a cat, your face is messy and your ass is being treated like a fleshlight, so you're not too capable of being a bitch.

Not when Mark's hiking up your leg, his hips speeding up in the way that has you muffling your screams, biting down onto his fingers before his hips still and you feel the way warmth fills your insides.

Cum leaks around his cock, pearly droplets forming pools at your knees and soaking into the carpet below you, and you pant weakly when Mark pulls his cock from your ass.

And he watches his snowy slick trickle out of your puckered hole, and down your slippery and neglected folds, and dripping.

It's damn near uncomfortably cramped but Mark finds his way, pushing you against the wall as lowers his head, dragging his tongue through your sodden folds, his cum coating his tongue before he spits it back at your cunt, watching the way your hole clenches.

There's nothing sexier than the way your body twitches and shakes when he eats his cum, his hands grasping your fleshy thighs so tightly that he's definitely leaving indentations. His lips find purchase, suckling at your clit and rolling his tongue against the sensitive nub, and your hips buck.

Your toes curl and you feel the way your belly burns with an oncoming orgasm.

And you feel the burn increase tenfold when Mark grabs your hand, gently easing three of your own fingers into your still abused hole, and you whine, staring at him over your shoulder.

Mark looks unapologetically feral, sucking and tongue fucking your cunt before he meets your gaze, hazy brown eyes staring at you from below long lashes.

"I never thought you'd look this pretty with your ass stuffed."

Taglist:

@lucky-beheaded 🌻

@anesthesia-4rizzle 🎀

@fayethefaerie 🦋

@feral010 ✨

@blckbarbiedoll 🌷

@allycat4458 🪻

@custardpuddingprincess ⭐

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch 🦄

@theamazkngskye 🍄

@titchx0 🦆

[celestemona]

⋆˙⟡ — FOUR TIMES MUALANI SUSPECTED SOMETHING WAS GOING ON (AND ONE TIME SHE WAS RIGHT)

pairing: kinich x reader

cw: no pronouns mentioned. ajaw is in a vacation. slight but not slight pda. mualani overreacting but she is a sweet. best friends trio. pyro vision reader mentioned. not beta-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Mualani knew Kinich and you were friends—close best friends, just like you two were with her—but lately, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. 

It started with little things, almost too subtle to be noticeable but somehow it didn’t escape from her perception. Things like how Kinich, ever the quiet guy, had begun lingering a little too long when he talked to you, or how you’d run all your way to the Scions of the Canopy's village just to welcome him back after a mission. 

At first, she didn’t pay too much attention thinking you guys were just being more affectionative and caring to each other. However, as time passed by, it has been shown to be more than a mutual friendly appreciation and certainly beyond a mere coincidence. 

I.

The first time Mualani noticed something different was in an early morning by the coast, watching the waves curl and crash. She often started her day stretching at the shore and riding the first waves of dawn. But this time, as she rounded a cliff, she spotted Kinich and you sitting on a rock overlooking the sea. The two of you were close enough that your arms brushed every time the wind picked up.

Kinich’s usual stern expression was softer than usual. Mualani squinted at you suspiciously. Were you... holding hands?

She jogged closer, but just as she got near enough to say something, Kinich quickly stood up, putting a considerable distance between you and himself. “You're up early,” he said, his voice in its usual calm.

You smiled warmly. “Hey girl! How are the waves? We were just discussing about it.”

Mualani tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “You were? Really?”

You let out a light and confusing laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course.”

She didn’t quite buy it, but you didn’t give her any reason to push further. “Well, the waves are good today! You guys joining?”

Kinich only gave her a polite headshaking, while you nodded smiling. Maybe she was imagining things.

II.

Except she wasn’t. 

A few days later, you were hanging out by Tequemecan Valley' canyons with Kinich standing quietly while you and Mualani chatted. However, every time she glanced toward him, Kinich seemed to be watching you a little too intently. It wasn’t the usual hunter’s focus; it was softer, caring, almost like... adoring.

The girl squinted, pretending to be interested in some flowers nearby while keeping an eye on you two. You didn’t seem to notice anything, or if did, you didn’t mind. You just kept talking, your laughter filling the air.

When Mualani caught Kinich staring again, she couldn’t help but ask, “Kinich, you okay? You’ve been zoning out all day.”

He blinked, his neutral mask slipping back into place. “I’m fine.”

“He’s just tired from all the training,” you teased, winking at him.

Mualani raised an eyebrow, astonished by the scene before her eyes. Something was definitely going on.

III.

The third time came on a day when Mualani was guiding a group of Sumeru’s travelers near the springs when she spotted you and Kinich again, standing by the water. As she approached, she saw Kinich leaning down to whisper something to you, his lips close to your ear. You giggled softly in response.

Wait a minute... Kinich never whispers to anyone. Much less in such an intimate way and even less to make someone laugh. Mualani's instincts flared up immediately. What was he saying? And why did you look so happy about it?

She cleared her throat loudly as she walked up. “Hey. What are you two whispering about?”

Kinich straightened up quickly, crossing his arms. “Nothing important.”

You smiled at her, but there was a glimmer in your eyes that made the girl even more suspicious. “Just a silly joke,” you said lightly.

A joke, huh? Mualani filed it away in her mind. This time she was very determined to figure out what was going on between you two.

IV.

It was late afternoon, and Mualani had just finished surfing when she saw you two by the waterside. Kinich and you stood close, so close as it has strangely been, and for a brief moment, she could have sworn Kinich was about to lean in and kiss you.

She froze, watching from a distance as you smiled up at him, your palm softly pushing his chest away. Were you two really about to kiss? It couldn’t be just her angle view. Could it be?

But just as quickly as it happened, Kinich stepped back, his usual stoic demeanor falling back into place. You turned and waved at her, your smile as bright as ever.

“Lani. Hey! How was the surf?” you called out.

Mualani, still in shock, shook her head. “Uh... good. Really good.”

She stared at you both for a moment longer, convinced she’d almost witnessed something, but there was no proof. Again.

V.

In the several days that followed, Mualani continued to witness that strangeness that kept repeating itself every time you thought she wasn’t around, creating a certain tension between her and you and Kinich—although she doubted that you had noticed any difference, treating her as you always did from the beginning.

Even if it relieved her to know that nothing had changed in your friendship, the surfer couldn't help but feel upset too. Was it that bad if she found out? Didn't you trust her the same way she trusted you? She wanted to be able to release all of her thoughts and ask you if maybe there was something in your bond that was bothering you. But she didn't. And so, things remained the same.

That was a quiet evening, and the moon hung low over the mountains. Mualani had been taking a stroll, enjoying the peaceful night, when she stumbled upon you.

This time, though, there was no mistaking it—Kinich and you stood together under some trees, locked in a slow, deep kiss.

The girl’s cheeks burned as red as the pyro vision you hold so dear closely, eyes widely opening and heart skipping a beat. She gasped, louder than she intended, and both of you quickly turned toward her. You blinked twice before smiling stiffly, even daring to look a bit embarrassed, while Kinich gave her a calm look, his hands still resting on your waist.

“You two!” She exclaimed shaking her head, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me earlier! I mean, I knew something was up, but really?”

You bit your lip while Kinich just blinked at her, slightly starting to look more guilty as well.

“We didn’t mean to keep it from you for long,” you said as you stepped out of Kinich’s arms and reached for her hand. “We were just... taking our time.”

Mualani arched an eyebrow. “Taking your time? You two were being so weird and annoying with all those suspicious interactions for weeks now! I’m supposed to be your best friend!”

Kinich rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. “We wanted to keep it quiet,” he said, his voice low. “At first, anyway.”

Mualani softened, her fake scold melting away into genuine affection. “Still, I would’ve loved to know sooner,” she said, her tone gentler now. “You know me better than anyone else. You know I would never judge you,” she sighed as she watches the sorrow on your face. “Nevertheless, I’m really happy for you both. Really am.”

You beamed and even Kinich’s usual stoic expression seemed to relax slightly.

Mualani continued, her voice full of warmth. “I’ve always known you two had something special. And now that I know for sure, you better believe I’m fully on board with this!” She shot Kinich a playful look. “Just make sure you treat (Y/N) right, okay?”

Kinich nodded, his eyes softening as he glanced at you. “I will.”

You squeezed Mualani’s hand, your eyes sparkling with gratitude and pure happiness. “Thank you, Lani. Your support means a lot to us.”

Mualani grinned, pulling you both into a tight hug. “Just don’t keep secrets from me again, alright? I’m always here for you two.”

You all laughed but shared a quick but sweet bond moment, the atmosphere light and easy. And somehow, Mualani couldn’t help but feel like everything had fallen into place just the way it was meant to.

“But just for your information. If the day comes of you get engaged and don’t tell me immediately, I’ll crash the proposal myself, make a huge scene, and tell everyone how long I’ve had to put up with your not so secret glances and not so subtle hand-holding. Trust me, it won’t be pretty!”

[layla4567]

Something for you

Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n doesn't know that Bob likes her, but she wonders why he acts weird when she's being nice, maybe she has a sneaky suspicion

Warnings: fluff, a little bit suggestive, ex-avenger reader (no superpowers), curse words, Bob being a shy pookie (muah), beta read, no appearance of The Void (just mention)

A/n: I haven't seen the movie yet lol, I just started playing with my imagination and what I remembered from the trailers/TV spots

It was an open secret that Bob was attracted to Y/N. A lot, to tell the truth.

Well, the only person who didn't seem to notice was Y/N herself. In the small complex where everyone now lived, they constantly watched the small interactions between her and Bob.

The little ex-avenger always, always showed herself to be extremely kind and empathetic towards Robert, but it was because she perfectly understood everything he had been through and despite the fact that everyone saw him as a powerful man with the strength of a thousand men capable of leaving the whole world in shadows, for her it wasn't like that. When y/n laid eyes on Bob she only saw someone vulnerable, someone who needed to be contained and supported, like a lonely puppy eager for love.

On the other hand, the brunette man felt a deep affection and respect for her. Y/n was the only one who was patient with him and always showed understanding. Yelena was also a great help by listening to him and not judging him, but the almost maternal warmth that Y/n radiated was incomparable. If she were metal, he would be a magnet; he couldn't help but always be close to her or follow her as if she were a planet and he were a satellite orbiting around her.

Of course, this generated some suspicion among the other members of the group. Everyone knew about Y/N's kindness, but some thought it was excessive and she was actually hiding something more. Also, Bob's attitude toward her was nothing new, but they even found it a little blatant how obvious his feelings for her were.

The memories of that mission with Bob are still fresh in everyone's minds...

..Some time ago..

After the others learned of Valentina's true plans to use Bob as a weapon, the group hatched a plan. They would rescue Bob at all costs.

They still couldn't believe they'd been tricked like that, or maybe they were; Valentina's bitch-like attitude wasn't anything new. But Y/N was the angriest and most hurt. It's not that she trusted Valentina; she wasn't that stupid, but imagining the torture they inflicted on a poor, innocent man made her blood boil.

She was always a reserved person, able to control her temper and not explode; in fact, it was rare that she get truly angry. But this time, that was one of those times; she hated injustice. The others perceived it, her calm face was wrinkled by her frown.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the laboratory where they had the brunette locked up.

He was on some kind of stretcher, he seemed asleep. Y/n approached carefully, his chest rising and falling peacefully, was he unconscious? She moved a lock of hair out of his face and he frowned, waking up in fright.

Please don't be scared, we won't hurt you, I promise, calm down" Y/n crouched down and raised her hands in surrender. He looked at her, not only was she pretty but something in her serene features told him that he could trust her. Robert aka Bob got off the stretcher and let Y/n gently guide him. She always had a hand near him, on his bicep, his wrist or his back, guiding him and giving him security and comfort, and he thanked her for it with silent glances full of affection.

As we left the building and dodged several guards, a person dressed as a chicken suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a sign ready to attack us. Bob, scared like a child, covered his head with his arms and hunched over slightly. Y/n stood in front of him, serving as a shield. The chicken-man was fighting with Bucky but suddenly seemed to turn his attention to Bob. He moaned in fear, and that's when something woke up inside the girl, an anger never seen before, a strong protective impulse to take care of that brown-haired boy who had suffered so much in life. She wouldn't let a creepy son of a bitch ruin everything.

"OH HELL NO"

Before the stranger could get any closer, Y/n gritted her teeth and, growling, landed a strong punch in the middle of his mask, which knocked the man out and left him unconscious on the floor. Robert, seeing himself out of danger, slowly and cautiously lowered his arms, watching the scene in bewilderment. His gaze wandered from the fainted man to Y/n's, a little in shock. She, afraid that he was now afraid of her, spoke to him gently and sweetly.

"Sorry about that, are you okay?"

He gulped. "Yes, thank you." She smiled in relief, and they got into the truck. Y/n sat in the back seat next to Bob, watching over him. She occasionally glanced at him until she slowly slipped her hand over his, holding it firmly. He looked at her in surprise.

"You're safe now, we won't let anything happen to you" she smiled

He nodded and blushed slightly. They both stared out the window. Bob's thoughts were now troubled, and not exactly by The Void, which seemed like a miracle. No, now he couldn't get that benevolent face that had saved him, his guardian angel, out of his mind.

..Present..

The complex was pretty quiet that time, almost everyone had left except for Yelena and Alexei and the only thing that could be heard was the sound of the TV.

Bob was sitting on the couch in front of the television, his body upright and his hands in his lap, looking calm as usual. They were playing a comedy show he'd never seen before, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, smiling at the screen from time to time.

Y/n was in the kitchen with Alexei, helping him dry the dishes. He cleared his throat and, with a smirk, said, "How are things going between you and Bob?" She looked at him a little confused "What do you mean by that?" He laughed. "Oh, nothing, you know, do you like him? He seems to like you more than the others."

Y/N blinked and stopped moving her hands over the plate. "Uhm, well, yeah, I like him. He's kind, friendly, and sweet." The girl's gaze softened when she mentioned Bob, causing Alexei to raise his eyebrows with a mischievous smile. She noticed and shook her head. "But that's all. You know I'm always nice to others, and if he approaches me, it's simply a reflex action."

"If you say so... just don't be surprised when I yell in your face: I told you so!! when you're making out and groping him," Alexei finished with a laugh.

Y/N gasped in disgust and hit him affectionately on the shoulder as she finished drying everything and headed into the living room. There she saw Bob with his back to her, focused on the TV, with only his broad shoulders and wavy brown hair sticking out of the couch. She came up behind him, touching his shoulder.

"Hey, can I sit down?"

Bob jumped and she giggled softly, then nodded several times "o-of course" She sat down next to him with a kind smile, crossing her legs comfortably. Now the boy's body was no longer relaxed as before, but very tense and rigid. He secretly glanced at the girl next to him, admiring her profile. His eyes fell on her long eyelashes, moved down to her nose, and rested for a few seconds on her lips, so soft and rosy.

Suddenly, Y/N turned her head to look at him, and he quickly looked away to the TV.

"Have you seen this show before?"

"Uh no, this is the first time" He swallowed

The minutes passed and her laughter filled the room. He smiled at times, but all his attention was on her, on her melodious, cheerful voice, or on the way her nose wrinkled in a smile. Suddenly, she leaned closer to him, and Bob's breathing quickened. The brunette boy tried to calm his nerves, but with her so close, it was difficult work. Y/n was focused on the TV, waiting to see what would happen next, unaware of Bob's reaction. At one point, she burst out laughing as she bent forward and placed a firm hand on his thigh. Bob gasped loudly, his mouth open as his face turned red, and his hands gripped the seat of the couch as if he were going to fly away. The warm sensation of her hand on his leg sent an electrifying shiver through his body, especially his lower stomach.

The former Avenger continued laughing, amused, not noticing anything until she turned to look at him and realized his hand was on his leg, and he seemed uncomfortable. "Oh shit, so sorry!" she exclaimed, embarrassed, and quickly pulled her hand away, much to Bob's relief.

"N-no worries, I-it's okay" he stuttered nervously. Then he exhaled all the air he had been holding and his body momentarily relaxed again.

Now an awkward silence settled between the two and they didn't know how to break it. Y/n felt confused and a little embarrassed for having made him feel uncomfortable although she didn't know why, when she was very close to him Bob seemed to almost reject her or appear a little indifferent, was it that he didn't like her? But if so, why did he always seem to follow her around like a dog? On the other hand, Bob felt so embarrassed and shy as to tell her the truth, but he hated to imagine that she thought he couldn't stand her and he didn't want to make her feel bad either.

Just at that moment Yelena came out of her room to go to the kitchen where Alexei was still cleaning, only to see that scene and roll her eyes. "How long are they going to keep this up, huh? I swear if they don't confess to each other right now, I'll punch them both in the face." She said to Alexei

He let out one of his characteristic laughs. "Patience kid, I'm sure something will happen today," he concluded mysteriously.

In the living room, Y/n didn't know how to make things better. Resigned, she sighed, "Fine, uhm, I think I'll go. I won't bother you anymore. Sorry."

Bob, surprised, watched her get up with puppy dog ​​eyes. Before she could completely walk away, he raised his hand and gently brushed his fingers against hers. Y/n turned to look at him, confused. "Wait, don't go... you weren't bothering me" he said shyly.

"So why do you act so weird around me?" She crossed her arms.

He stood up hesitantly, standing near her, swallowed, took a breath and sighed "uhh well, it's just that..." he didn't know how to find the courage to confess "It's just that I think I like you..."

y/n opened her eyes in surprise and he got more nervous and blushing he blurted out "Uh well actually I don't know if I like you that way, I'm not saying that you're not pretty so that he wouldn't like you!, I mean you're very beautiful and very kind to me and uh" Bob seemed to stumble over his words and she just smiled tenderly. He realized he looked like a fool so he closed his eyes and said "The only thing I know is that when I'm with you I can be myself, well, almost. You know, sometimes The Void wanders around my mind and it bothers me but when I'm with you he seems more... silent. And, and it makes me feel good, with you I feel good and it's something I haven't felt in a long time. Yeah, just that"

He finished with a nervous smile and stared at her expectantly, praying that she wouldn't run away or hate him or something. But no. She would never do that and deep down he knew it. The girl simply gave him a sincere smile, one of those that don't come so easily to others, a smile that radiated warmth and shone like the sun itself. Y/n approached him and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her back and rested his face in the hollow of her shoulder, feeling safe.

"I.. I didn't know that you felt that way for me. And I thought you were scared of me maybe" she giggled

Bob laughed softly, and she could feel his smile against her skin. He pulled away slightly. "You could never scare me, especially knowing that you don't fear me" he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Y/n smiled compassionately and placed her hands on his cheeks, giving him a kiss on the cheek very close to the corners of his lips. Bob froze, surprised, not expecting that sudden and sweet gesture. She laughed amusedly and softly asked him "May I?" looking at him with doe eyes that made his heart pound hard as if he could faint at any moment.

He nodded vigorously and she closed her eyes and placed her lips delicately on his. At first he blushed and she felt the heat of his face but then he closed his eyes and let himself go. The kiss was tender and sweet, not wanting to rush things, she didn't want to pressure him, she just wanted him to adapt to the rhythm. But quickly, as if he had wished for this a long time ago, he slowly lowered his hands to her waist, holding her firmly in place and his mouth opened to speed up the pace. When things started to heat up, she brought her hands to his hair, caressing the back of his neck while he leaned closer to her, not wanting to let her go.

Unfortunately, before they could move on to the next level, a cough and a clearing of the throat put them on alert, quickly separating and looking at the person who had interrupted them. Yelena had a serious face and her nose wrinkled slightly in a disgusted grimace.

"I swear to God, if you start doing it on the living room floor, I won't be cleaning anything up the next day. In fact, I'll make you clean up your mess."

Alexei arrived right behind the blonde laughing but then seeing Bob and Y/n far from each other his face turned into disappointment "Oh c'mon!, I missed the fun"

Y/n looked away blushing and trying to hide a smile, Bob smiling shyly asked her "so that means that I... I mean that you, feel the same way?"

She caressed his face "I thought it was already clear" and laughing she gave him another kiss on the cheek and said goodbye going to her room.

As she passed by Alexei, he shouted, "I told you!!!" She walked down the hall and simply stuck her middle finger above her head.

[hunnieknight]

Little Soul

A leyline abnormality has occured in the House of Hearth!

Gn!Reader, unspecified relationship status, SUBTLE power dynamic, OOC, bad grammar and no beta read, quick story, canon divergent?

~~

Being House of Hearth's best leyline researcher means you work outside a lot. Always be on the field, directly studying the leylines themselves.

Being the best also means that the Head of the House always rely on you whenever there is an abnormality. You and the Lady are quite close, in professional matter. Everything is mostly about documents and mission.

With few personal teacup party.

The very first tea party was a nervous wreck. The Lady herself request for your presence, only you, just you. Oh boy, despite the bad thoughts clouded your mind, you just hope you got a raise or promotion.

Thankfully, it was just her asking for a plan. A quite specific plan of a very specific leyline abnormalities. It was Clervie, one of House of Hearth's children in the past.

That's where you learnt more of the Head of House of Hearth's past. She doesn't tell much other than Clervie need to be gone as she isn't suppose to exist and wandering about. Putting a soul to rest, again.

After hours of talking, she settled with a plan, thanking you by promising a raise on the next salary. Somehow, knowing how she was in the past is a promotion itself for you, imposing into her life story where not a lot of people are lucky enough to know.

Knowing how a leyline can manifest, how a memory of the past can exist as a visible soul, how an innocent soul can stuck in time, how...Arlecchino was just a child.

Leylines, basically Tevyat's biggest hive network memories, everything that has happened in the world is recorded and remembered.

Including the very memory that Arlecchino wants to forget.

You always see the Lady herself is all calm and collected, barely anything makes her break a sweat. She often does things her own way, it is quick and precise.

Now imagine your shock and dread when a pigeon bird flies to you with a small note "S.O.S". You know this bird, in fact, this one particular pigeon is only assigned for you. A messenger pigeon, reserved only for you, only for emergency, only from the Lady Arlecchino.

Door slams open, all due respect but anxiety fills your body, there is no time for greetings and formalities, if the Lady herself sending urgent message there must be some-

Huh?

It took you a moment to realize another abnormality like Clervie happens again but..in..the appearance of..the Lady?!

The task is simple, RETURN PERUERE. Okay, it's not that dreadful but the fact the fact the Lady trusting you to do this task, you feel like she is testing your skill. Testing if you are truly her best researcher.

You nodded, agreed to keep Lil Peruere a secret, her small hand engulf by yours when you guide the little soul into your private research office.

The true challenge is not sending her back, the TRUE challenge is to not grow attachment to the soul. Yes, she is a bit unique but the way her little hands always wanting to help stacking books, papers and catching small spiders making you grow fond of the little one.

So this is how Arlecchino was when she was a child, huh?

Makes you wonder what would Arlecchino's child be like.

This challenge also creating a bridge, more personal bridge rather than professional. Often times you only meet Arlecchino if there is a task, it was professional and formal, over a teacup party.

When Little Peruere stays with you, Arlecchino always shows up before your research office, o'clock, with..basket of sweets?

It was nice, the atmosphere is less formal and more domestic casual. Conversation is not always about the research progress, sometimes it's about Arlecchino's upbringing, what Little Peruere likes to do, and your own trivial stuff. The intimate talk only be witnessed by the papers and whiteboards in the research office.

Weeks passed and with Arlecchino's power, Little Peruere passed on, same with Clervie, the warm sunlight enveloping the lost soul as the little one disappear into small glistening petals. Just like Clervie, Arlecchino accompany Little Peruere, but you also sits next to her. Arlecchino have asked you to stay in the research office as the night is cold, yet here you are...

Sitting next to her, leading the conversation as both Peruere and Arlecchino prefers to listening in. The dawn sky is beautiful, dark twilight-blue night sky slowly painted with yellow-orange lights. Peruere watching with fascination, yours watching the little one with adoration, and you felt a pair of eyes watching you from the side.

~~

Clicking, typing, rustling filled your research office. You need to make a report on the little soul, as formality of your works. Arlecchino was there to proofreading the report herself.

The Harbinger doesn't miss how you sighed a lot, recalling the little pitter-patter of Peruere's feet around your office, the small hands tidying up the papers around, and the small bug container-which always contain any bugs found in your office- in the corner is empty now that Peruere is not here.

Arlecchino thinks, you have gone this far to send the soul back. Perhaps she should give you something in return, it's only fair in transaction,right?

What is it? A day off? A vacation? A raise? A promotion? A kid of your own?

Well, it seems you have grown fond to the little Peruere, perhaps...another real Peruere would be a delight?

And what a delight it is~! The House of Hearth burst into happiness when the news of another member, from the Father herself , was announced when the children are eating dinner.

This raised the House's morale, everybody work and play safely, determined to go home in one piece looking forward when cries of an infant burst into the house. It would be hell to get used to but the House of Hearth is used to not cry for pain, no tears of loss and grief.

This is the only cry they would have, the only wail in the building, the only tears they would be happy to hear. The only tears in the House of Hearth....

Oh hey, The Tsaritsa send a baby care package~♡!

.

♡♡

.

.

.

Another one is in the oven

[abbotjack]

Whatever You Say, Fruitcake

pairing : Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader (established marriage)

summary: Myrna’s being Myrna. Somewhere between the chaos, you and Robby manage to come up for air.

warnings/content: Fluff, Hospital setting, strong language, married intimacy, mild sexual tension(?), bodily fluids (mentioned), chaotic workplace dynamics, Myrna.

word count: 1,767, not beta read.

a/n: I’ve written so much smut and angst lately… felt like I needed a fluff filler. Honestly, with everything Robby’s been through too—he deserves one just as much as I do.

Someone left the remains of a hoagie in the trauma fridge again, and now the back hallway reeks of vinegar, cold cuts, and poor life choices.

The smell hits you as soon as you clear the curtain bay—sharp, sour, unmistakably fermented. You pause mid-step. Behind you, Dana makes a strangled noise in her throat and immediately starts waving a clipboard in the air like it’s going to do something other than stir it up.

“If this is Whitaker’s doing,” Dana says, already pinching the bridge of her nose, “I’m pulling him from patients and assigning him to mop duty and moral reflection.”

You snort. “Pretty sure that’s not in the union handbook.”

She’s already striding ahead. “Then I’ll write my own damn handbook.”

Just ahead, Robby moves through the corridor like a man who’s been paged three times too many. Hoodie sleeves shoved to his elbows, coffee in one hand, a clipboard tucked under his arm, and a look that says he’s thirty seconds from announcing his retirement.

Whitaker’s hustling to keep up, slightly flushed and fumbling with a stack of blank admission forms and a clipboard clearly marked for peds. He’s also holding an empty emesis basin and a bag of saltine crackers.

“I dropped the kid off in Pediatrics like you told me to,” he says, catching his breath. “Then someone threw up on my shoes, I handed over some crackers as a peace offering, and I think I accidentally took this chart on my way out while trying to avoid a loud debate about Paw Patrol and screen time.”

Robby doesn’t even look at him. “Why are you holding a puke tray?”

“Someone in Peds handed it to me. I panicked and said thank you.”

“You don’t work there, Whitaker. You work in emergency.”

“Yeah, well, try telling that to the four-year-old who called me Doctor Crackers and wouldn’t let go of my hand.”

Dana watches Whitaker veer off toward supply, jaw tightening just slightly. “If he volunteers himself into another department’s meltdown, I’m having his badge color-coded for liability.”

You raise a brow. “Is that a charge nurse threat?”

“It’s preventative management.”

Before you can reply, the air shifts—like it always does when Myrna materializes. The low squeak of her wheelchair wheels, the jingle of cheap bracelets, and then—

“Hey, fruitcake.”

Robby slows when he sees her. Not surprised. Not annoyed. Just—ready, in that way he gets when Myrna’s name is involved in a trauma note or a psych hold request.

He hesitates, jaw clenched, clipboard tucked tighter under his arm as he steps in behind the wheelchair—slow and deliberate, one hand on the back like he's guiding a live grenade disguised in costume jewelry.

Myrna is cuffed, of course—standard protocol—but she’s sitting tall like she’s holding court. Her walker is bungee-corded to the back of the chair, and there’s a half-empty Styrofoam cup in the side pocket that no one remembers giving her. She smells like menthols and peach Schnapps. Her lipstick is smeared. Her eyes are sharp.

She cranes her head slightly to look up at Robby and grins with all the self-satisfaction of someone who knows exactly how to ruin your day and plans to do it slowly.

Robby exhales. “Myrna. What brings you in today?”

“I murdered my husband.”

“How’d you do it this time?”

“Meat grinder.”

She shifts in her seat, adjusting the tilt of her chair. When he stops, she immediately starts wheeling herself toward the empty staff breakroom like she owns the place—completely ignoring the Employees Only sign.

“Where do you think you’re going, Myrna?”

“Oh, none of your business, fruitcake.”

His jaw ticks. The clipboard drops half an inch.

“Actually, everything that happens in this department is my business. And you know what? I put up with a lot around here. I take very good care of you. So you can call me Dr. Robinavitch, or Dr. Robby, or you can use my first name, Michael. But I do not appreciate being called fruitcake.”

Dana leans toward you. “He’s two years and one more nickname away from tossing his pager in the East River and moving into a cabin with no electricity.”

You snort. “He can move to the woods if he wants, but I’m not following him into a life of compost toilets and mosquito nets. He’ll be back the second he realizes I’m not coming with.”

Back in the hall, Myrna shrugs.

“Oh, did I hurt your feelings, cocksucker?”

Dana snorts. You press your fingers to your mouth.

Robby takes a breath. “That said, it has a certain whimsical quality I can probably learn to live with.”

“Whatever you say, fruitcake.”

Without missing a beat, she pivots her wheelchair and rolls with precision toward the ambulance bay doors. The automatic sensor doesn’t catch her on the first pass, so she backs up, then rams the base of the door with enough force to jolt the frame—and nearly set off the motion alarm. A “Wet Floor” sign topples in her wake.

Then, slowly, she lifts her cuffed wrists and waves them at the security camera like she’s on parade.

Robby doesn’t move. Just watches her, unreadable.

She pauses at the edge of the exit, half-turned in her chair, chin tilted up like she’s daring someone to try and stop her.

A nurse nearby mutters, “Do we stop her… or let natural selection take it from here?”

You find him later in the breakroom, elbows braced on the table, fingers pressed into his brow like he’s trying to force the day out through his skull. His coffee sits untouched beside a chart he’s clearly given up pretending to read. The overhead light is flickering, unresolved, adding to the static hum that no one has the energy to report anymore.

You slide your coffee beside his and drop into the seat next to him. No words, not yet. Just your knee brushing his under the table—light, intentional, familiar. He doesn’t look at you, but he exhales like you just gave him permission to breathe.

After a beat: “I’m fine.”

You sip your coffee. “Mmm. Then why have you been brooding like a cursed Victorian husband.”

He drags his hands down his face and groans. “She called me a cocksucker in front of the whole emergency department.”

“And you didn’t throw anything,” you say. “Which, frankly, is a win.”

You nudge your foot against his. “Do you want me to fight her?”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“Outside. Ambulance bay. High noon.”

That earns the smallest crack of a smile.

“I’m serious,” you add. “I’m fully within my spousal rights to go feral.”

“Pretty sure that’s not in the HR manual.”

“Pretty sure it’s in the vows.”

He huffs out a reluctant laugh, and you feel the air between you shift. Lighter. Less taut. The corner of his mouth tilts in that way you’ve learned to love—subtle, fleeting, like warmth in a place that rarely allows it.

“Dana probably already has a memo drafted,” he mutters. “Something official—‘Effective immediately, all consults will refer to Dr. Robinavitch as Fruitcake.’”

You grin. “She has. It’s laminated. I signed off on it.”

He shakes his head, smiling despite himself. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I’m married to you. I take my entertainment where I can get it.”

He finally leans back, posture loosening. “One of these days, I’m torching this whole department.”

“You won’t,” you say. “You love this place too much.”

“I love you. Everything else is negotiable.”

You fall quiet at that, the kind of quiet that makes room for a hand to reach across the table. Yours. His. You’re not even sure. But they find each other easily, like always.

“You were good today,” you say. “The way you handled her. All of it. You didn’t give her the chaos she wanted.”

“She got under my skin.”

“But she didn’t get a reaction. That’s power. That’s control. I'm proud of you.”

He looks at you. Really looks at you. And for a moment, it’s quiet in a way this place rarely is.

“You’re always proud of me,” he says, voice softer now.

You smile, just a little. “Not always. Just when you deserve it.”

A pause. He huffs, but it’s fond. “You should put that on a sticker.”

“Already did.” You nudge his elbow. “Slapped it on your locker right under the one that says ‘Fruitcake of the Month.’”

He groans. “I married a menace.”

“You married smart.”

“You tricked me.”

You squeeze his hand. “And I’d do it again.”

The silence that settles next isn’t heavy. It’s married silence. Full of the things you don’t need to say because you’ve already said them a hundred different ways over coffee cups and night shifts and shared exhaustion.

You glance toward the hallway, then back to him, voice lower now. “Sometimes I wonder how we’re still standing in all this. You, me. This place.”

He watches you for a long moment, then says, “Because you make it worth it.”

A pause.

Then—

“I’m not kissing you in the breakroom,” he says eventually, eyes still on yours.

“I know.”

“But I want to.”

“I know that too.”

Another small smile. “You’re trouble.”

“And you’re mine.”

The moment hangs there—warm and quiet and stupidly rare. It's the kind of silence that only happens when two people know each other too well to need more words.

His pager buzzes on the table. You both glance at it but don’t move right away. Then, like muscle memory, he stands and grabs his clipboard. You collect the two half-finished coffees and toss them without comment.

When you step toward the door, your hand brushes his—not by accident. He doesn’t take it, not here, not with the door just about to swing open. But he squeezes your fingers once, fast and familiar. It’s not affection, exactly. It’s reassurance. A habit. A promise.

You exit the breakroom together.

The hallway feels colder by comparison. Brighter. Louder. Someone’s calling out discharge instructions. A gurney wheel shrieks as it sticks on the threshold. The ER is alive again, like it never paused.

He walks ahead of you, falling back into his role like pulling on a second skin—focused, efficient, slightly intimidating. But you know that look. You know the weight he’s carrying.

When his hand grazes yours again at the hallway bend, he doesn’t pull away right away.

You don’t hold hands. You don’t need to.

But the warmth lingers.

That’s the thing about marriage in a place like this : there’s never time. So you take the seconds. And when you find each other in them, you hold on.

[gremlinanalyst]

my beta: “…grem, what the fuck are you doing?”

me: (surrounded by my wips and crying) “my babies…”

my beta: “you started too many projects again, didn’t you?”

me: (reaches out and grabs another box of tissues) “luna, my bestie, my ride or die, friend until the end, please save me.”

my beta: *sighs* *pats* “…sorrows…sorrows. prayers.”

me: “stop making me laugh. i’m in mourning-“