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theonewiththefanfics · 3 days ago

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Peace in the Darkness (one-shot)

Synopsis: Bob knows Y/N isn't one to go back on her words. So when she doesn't show up to go through with their plans, he starts to worry. Luckily for him, Yelena knows how to break-and-enter. And doesn't mind invading her personal space.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader (ex-Black Widow)

Genre: fluff, lil bit of angst

Warnings: sickness because I've been sick this past weekend and life sucked, swearing, Bob being an anxious little bean, alluding to violence, but nothing else, really :)

Word count: 6623

All characters belong to Marvel. Also - Bob has my heart

If Bob paced any more behind Y/N’s door, he was sure to wear a track into the concrete floor.

His hand had hovered over the panel separating him from whatever lay beyond, about twenty times in the past hour or so, yet just as his knuckles were about to meet it, he pulled back with a shake of his head and began his pacing once more.

“I should just knock,” the man muttered to himself, blue eyes warily watching the door, hoping it would creak open without his interference, but alas, it remained as immovable as it had always been. “She’s not gonna mind. You’ve woken her up in the middle of the night before, and she wasn’t angry then. She won’t be angry with you.”

And even still with those thoughts in his mind, Bob couldn’t get himself to do it, his anxiety overriding his motor skills.

It wasn’t that he was incapable of action. He was. It was more so getting to the action where he faltered. His therapist, someone Bucky had helped him find, had told him even two steps forward and one step back was still a step forward.

Like the first time he’d reached out for help after a nightmare, where he could feel the Void curling inside him, just waiting until his emotions reached a bubbling point so he could take over.

“What did you do?” the therapist, a take-no-bullshit kind of woman, had asked. “To stop the Void from emerging?”

Bob shrugged, knee bouncing up and down, not daring to make eye contact. “I uh – I went to Y/N. I just… I heard she was still awake and knew if the Void was gonna come out, someone had to… You know… be aware and take me – him – down.”

“And who is Y/N?”

Now that was a loaded question he wasn’t fully yet ready to answer, so he settled on the objective truth. “She’s my teammate. We live across the hall from one another.”

“And how did she help?”

“She…” Bob bit down on his lip. “She invited me inside her room and we just… talked. She had some music playing… I – I guess she helped me take my mind off it all and… stuff…”

The woman hummed. “And why was she the first person you thought to go to when things got bad?”

He wanted to say it was because she was the closest one to him, physically being right down the hall, that they were the only two people occupying the floor, but the truth spilt out before he could even contain it, “Because I knew she wouldn’t be mad at me. If – if I woke her up. She… she wouldn’t be upset I was there.” Because she was one of the few people who wasn’t afraid to touch him, despite his powers and the Void.

But just because she hadn’t been upset with him those few times he’d sought her out, didn’t mean she wouldn’t be angry with him that specific day. Otherwise, why hadn’t she stuck to her promise?

The previous week, right before Y/N had been shipped out to Malaga on a mission, she’d promised him that once she was back, the two would go to a bookstore together, Bob’s supply already dangerously low.

Now, though, three hours had passed from the time they’d set last night, and Y/N was nowhere to be seen.

He’d let the first hour pass by, thinking maybe she had to catch up on some paperwork the team had to file after a mission. When hour two had come and gone, Bob had started to become anxious, but still, he told himself she was probably just resting, no doubt exhausted by the mission, and he would never be one to take away time she could be using to heal. But as hour three had started to roll, Bob couldn’t help the nervousness entering his body, and that was how he ended up behind Y/N’s door.

Gently, he placed an ear against it, hoping to hear the slightest sound, maybe a soft movement of her feet padding against the carpeted floor, but the only noise invading the silence was the echo of his heartbeat.

Bob sighed, head hanging low and fingers plucking at the hem of one of his sleeves as he turned around, ready to go back and wallow in self-pity, when Yelena’s raspy voice made him look over his shoulder.

“Bobik? Everything alright?” she asked, the nickname Alexei had bestowed upon him, making warmth bloom in his chest. Not ‘Bobby’, a name that made him flinch, but a soft ‘Bobik’, a name that made him feel cherished.

The blonde was decked out in her combat gear, clearly just having arrived from a mission, so the fact that one of her first instincts was to check in on him made his body flush. He was still trying to get used to the fact that people actually cared about him, not as an experimental subject, not as a wannabe superhero, but just about him. About Bob.

“Oh, yeah,” he stammered, giving Yelena a tight-lipped smile, but he couldn’t control the way his hands wrung together, betraying the anxiousness he was feeling. “Everything’s A-Okay.”

For a second neither of them moved or said anything, and just as Bob was about to venture down to his room, Yelena crossed her arms, cocking her hip to the side and raising a single brow.

All he could do was sigh. She was one of the few people it was hard to lie to, whom he didn’t even really want to lie to. “It’s just that… umm… Y/N and I were supposed to go to a bookstore a while ago, but she uh… well, I haven’t seen her all day… and when I asked around, nobody else has either. Ava even said she didn’t come up for breakfast, and she wasn’t in the kitchen for lunch, so…”

“That does not sound like her.” Yelena’s nose scrunched as she went closer and knocked against Y/N’s door, a motion that came so easily to her, yet Bob had struggled for ages to even lift his hand. “Lubov moya,” she sing-songed in Russian. “Are you in there?”

And once again, only silence responded. As the moment stretched, Bob slowly started to roll back and forth on his feet. God, why hadn’t he thought about how she could already have left the tower ages ago!

But no, it wouldn’t be like Y/N to just leave him hanging or not let at least one person know where she was.

Unless… unless she’d gone out to do something she didn’t want the others to know about… to tease her about… like maybe she’d gone on a date.

“It’s – it’s alright,” Bob let out a strangled chuckle, as thoughts whirled inside his head. “She just probably forgot about it, or something more important came up.”

But the ex-Widow just knocked again, ignoring Bob’s spiralling. “Legushka?” she called out, the nickname rolling off her tongue with a concerned yet teasing lilt.

There’d been this one time John had called Y/N that, snorting as Alexei had translated the meaning of the word (froggy or little frog), and where usually she’d respond with an eye roll to Yelena or their sort-of-kind-of adoptive father figure, Walker received a bloody nose and grade-two concussion.

Only Yelena had the privilege of calling her fellow ex-Red Room alumni such absurd names without any consequences. And, well, sometimes Bob could too, but he wrote it off on the fact that Y/N just tried to make him feel included, and no other reason…

“Snookums? My little pookie-wookie?” Now, Yelena was just making things up as she went, no doubt hoping to get at least some sort of a response from Y/N, but when even that didn’t accomplish anything, with a grumbled, “alright, fine, be that way,” she crouched down, pulling out a picking set from her boot.

Bob’s eyes widened in alarm, hissing at the woman, “What are you doing? Don’t do that!”

“Well, we have to get in somehow,” Yelena just shrugged, the noise of metal softly scraping against metal invading his senses.

“Not by breaking and entering Y/N’s room!”

The blonde let out a squeak of indignation. “I am not breaking and entering!” The lock clicked open. “For one – I didn’t break shit. And two – the door is open. Now it’s just entering.”

“She is going to kill us, and I will not be coming to your rescue.”

“Please,” Yelena replaced her picking tools back inside her boot. “We have too much history between us in the Red Room for her to decide this is the final drop. As for you…” Yelena smirked. “Let’s just say, I know things you don’t.”

“Wait, what? What do you know? What things?”

But she didn’t respond, only opened the door.

Bob wanted to protest, wanted to say they shouldn’t be invading Y/N’s private space like that, wanted to shake Yelena down for whatever information she might possess. If it had anything to do with feelings he hoped Y/N might have for him. That most likely, there was a reason she wasn’t answering, even if she was there, and that most likely, she just felt bad about not wanting to hang out with him, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying so, which he was totally fine and cool with and –

Yelena poked her head inside, and where usually, Y/N’s place was brightly lit by the daylight, her curtains drawn back to allow it to be illuminated, pure darkness greeted them, as Bob, shame curling in his stomach at such invasion, peered over Yelena’s head to take a glance.

He associated Y/N’s room with peace.

Cream colored walls, dark brown curtains with a plush carpet, emerald settees resting atop it and a large bookshelf taking up a whole wall with softly glowing nightlights in the shape of sprouting mushrooms would be plugged in during the night, and plastic glow-in-the-dark stars creating real and made-up constellations on the ceiling – that was the space he considered his true home.

Every free inch was covered in some knick-knack or a souvenir, as she had a tendency to collect small things, but she also had a tendency to gift them to others.

She was kind. Caring. Thoughtful. She was Bob’s safe place.

Yet now it was pitch black inside.

Yelena was clearly just as worried as he was, because when she looked up from her still crouched position, confusion marred her face.

“Malishka?” she called out as she stood, slowly entering the room, Bob following as their eyes adjusted to the lack of lighting.

He shifted his gaze around only to settle on a large moving mound on the bed, so with Yelena as the lead, they moved towards it, when finally a voice rasped from somewhere beneath the ungodly amount of blankets. “Malishka is dead. Come back tomorrow with a warrant. Or a casket.”

Every single doubt that’d permeated Bob’s mind vanished at the realisation of what was really going on.

Y/N hadn’t forgotten about the plans they’d made. She hadn’t found something better to do with her time or decided he was simply not worth her while.

Y/N was sick.

And by the sound of it, badly.

Bob’s heart clenched at the thought. They all seemed so indestructible, but it was moments like those, where he was reminded that some of them, especially Yelena and Y/N – the two people he’d grown to care most about in the weird little team he was a part of – were simply humans. And humans could get ill.

Gently, Yelena sat down on the side of the bed, her fingers rooting around the coverings before an opening was made, a pair of Y/E/C eyes squinting at the intruders. “Can you please close the door? My eyeballs hurt.”

“Oh, shit!” Bob cursed softly, padding to the door and closing it, once again plunging the room into complete darkness. “Sorry.”

He wanted to rebel against the black that now surrounded them, he wanted to panic and spiral, to have at least one of those nightlights be turned on, but somehow, through a sheer sense of will, he steeled himself against the rising tide. Whether it was because he knew light would hurt Y/N, or whether it was because he felt safe with the two women, despite not really being able to see anything that wasn’t an inch away from his face, Bob couldn’t tell. Well… he could, but he wasn’t going to say it out loud, because that would make things real…

“Can you please breathe quieter, Lena?” Y/N groaned from her cocoon. “My head’s pounding as is.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Yelena cooed, placing the back of her hand against the other woman’s forehead to feel for her temperature. “I think you might have the flu, huh?”

Y/N sniffled. “I dunno what I have, but whatever it is, I blame Walker.”

Bob looked at Yelena, the man still hovering by the bedside table, not wanting to invade the space between the two. “Has John been sick?”

“Not that I’m aware.” Yelena ghosted her hand over Y/N’s cheek before standing up and going to what he knew to be the bathroom. After a quick second, she returned with a wet cloth, laying it over her friend’s forehead. “But we can always blame him.”

A delirious smile appeared on Y/N’s face. “We can, can’t we?”

“Of course.” Yelena nodded. “Would it make you feel better if I went and beat him up?”

“I think it would, yeah… Can you stab him too?” Y/N asked as an afterthought.

“Anything for you, legushka moya.” Yelena brushed a sweaty Y/H/C strand from where it’d plastered itself down against her cheek. Bob’s heart ached at the tender motion, fingers twitching at his side with the want to do the same, but he restrained himself. “But tell you what, before I go and seek revenge on Walker, how about I go and make you some soup, and Bob will keep you company. Sound okay?”

Instantly, it was like someone had turned the light switch off, Y/N’s smile dropped, and she harrumphed. “Bob can stay, but no soup.”

“Soup always makes everything better! Besides, Bob said you didn’t go to breakfast or lunch. You have to get something in you,” Yelena scolded the woman. Despite them being barely a month apart, she acted like an older sister to Y/N.

The sick girl just whined. “I’m not hungry. I’m achy and icky and gross, and I just wanna rot away in my bed.”

“Well, you need to get food in you,” the ex-Widow countered, hands on her hips. “Do not move. I will be right back. Bob, please keep an eye on her.”

“As if I could go anywhere,” Y/N scoffed, but it fell only on Bob’s ears, as Yelena had already made her exit.

On instinct, his fingers started fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, a nervousness taking over his body. After a moment of unsurety of what exactly he was supposed to do, a croaky voice whispered, “You should go, Bob. I know Lena said to stay, but I don’t want you to catch whatever wasting disease I have."

An involuntary smile blossomed on his lips at her care about his well-being, despite being so sick herself. “I uh, I don’t think I can get sick anymore, so no worries there.”

He noted the small frown on Y/N’s lips as she eyed him up and down. “Show off,” she muttered, but didn’t tell him to leave again, rather said, “ ‘M sorry about today, by the way. Should’ve at least gotten out of bed and told you I wasn’t fit to walk in civilised society. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“No!” he said, trying to quell her guilt, sitting down onto the bed, and to his own surprise, brushing a finger down her cheek without even thinking. “No, no, no… you’re not feeling well, so don’t even worry about me. I’m just glad that, you know, you’re not bleeding out on the bathroom floor or something.”

Bob’s whole being lit up when, despite Y/N being evidently unwell, she snorted, no doubt remembering how about a month prior when she’d returned to the Watchtower after a mission, she’d pretty much traumatized both Bob and John, as they’d found her half-dead on the kitchen floor, munching on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, blood pooling around her at a rapid pace.

“Seriously!?” John had scoffed as he helped Bob lift Y/N up from the floor, the two men supporting as much of her weight as possible as they dragged her to the elevator and then to the med-floor. “PB&J? That was gonna be your last meal?”

“Hey!” Y/N protested. “It was the only thing I could manage to make before the wooziness set in. You know, from having been turned into a walking-talking shishkabob.” She chuckled deliriously, looking at the man who had the biggest crush on her in the world, yet she didn’t even know about it, and now she could potentially die. “Huh. Shish-ka-Bob.” Then she booped his nose and promptly passed out.

Safe to say, he’d spent the next few days hovering in the med-bay, and when Y/N had been discharged, off-missions for a while, but allowed to rest in her room, he’d hovered in the hallway behind her door, just to make sure the things he saw during his nightmares, the images that the Void tried to tell him were real, actually weren’t.

But Y/N didn’t know that.

She didn’t know the true extent of what went on inside Bob’s mind or heart, didn’t know the real depth of the feelings he had for her.

She didn’t know how much the nights she allowed him to spend in her room meant to him.

She didn’t know how much the little trinkets she brought back for him as a souvenir from whichever corner of the world she’d been sent to, mattered.

She didn’t know that if the tower suddenly caught on fire and he could only save three things, he’d rush inside the flames to take the three little cat figurines sitting on his shelf.

It had been after she’d returned from a solo mission in Japan, Bob having pretty much worried himself sick, only to have her bound up to him, still dirt-covered and bloodied, but the smile on her face was as bright as the morning sun. “Look!” She presented the white, red and gold porcelain cats. “It’s the three of us! Me, you and Lena! They’re so cute!”

That night, he’d fallen asleep with the three little waving felines looking over him, golden night-light illuminating the statuettes.

So, in a moment like this, where Y/N was the one who needed support, he could only hope and pray, she felt it from him.

Gently, Bob brushed a palm against her forehead, taking off the wet towel that’d now warmed up to her skin temperature. But he hadn’t anticipated that, despite being bogged down by most likely the flu, her reflexes were still Black-Widow-quick, as her hand shot out from underneath the blankets, grabbing onto his wrist and pressing his hand against the skin of her neck. “Oh, you are so warm,” she sighed, cuddling the appendage.

“S-so are you!” Bob didn’t necessarily know what to do. “Alarmingly so, actually.”

“Yeah,” Y/N puffed a breath, still not releasing the death-grip she had on his hand. “That’s probably the 103 fever I have going on.”

Instantly, his anxiety skyrocketed.

He knew he ran warm. He pretty much always had the AC on in his room, especially at night, as he was a complete contradiction of a human – he was abysmally hot all the time, mainly thanks to the Sentry serum, but he was most comfortable in a sweater and sweatpants while swaddled up like a burrito in a blanket.

His heart thudded in his chest as Y/N snuggled closer to his touch, while he worried he was doing her harm. Yes, a fever was the body’s natural way of fighting off viruses or infections and whatnot, but a too high a fever was also dangerous, and he'd never forgive himself if he made it worse.

“Y/N, you’re really burning up.” Bob chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Can you please let me go? Just for a second,” he added on, as she whined when he tried to slip his hand away. “I’m just gonna get you a new cold compress. Please…”

“But I don’t want you to leave!”

“I’m – I’m not gonna leave,” he whispered, terrified that if his voice was any louder, any clearer, she might pick up on the emotion he was trying to suppress. “I promise, it’ll be just a second. I won’t even go outside the room.”

For a moment, Y/N’s grip tightened on Bob, holding him closer than ever, but then, with a sigh of defeat, she released him.

He was quick, just like he said he would. Even in pure darkness, his eyes having adjusted to the lack of light now, probably thanks to the Sentry serum, he dampened the cloth with cold water and wrung out the excess, getting back to her, in the time it took for Y/N to shift from lying on her side to being on her back.

She’d somewhat untangled herself from the cocoon of blankets, and Bob had to stop mid-step as he noted what she was wearing.

It was his sweater. Well, one of the many he had, but it was something of his nonetheless.

And he could physically feel how something broken and cracked inside him got stitched together. Some deep, still-hurting part of Bob, that always managed to whisper a negative thought, how he didn’t matter, how washing the dishes and doing the chores was nothing compared to what everyone else in the tower did, fused back together, the Void’s incessant noise quietening. With just a simple glance at Y/N, who had found comfort in something of his when she was feeling bad, Bob felt a part of him heal.

He didn’t comment on it, though, half-terrified if he did, she might think he was mad about it, when in reality it was the complete opposite. And an insatiable need had now settled somewhere in his chest, a want to see her in all of his clothes. And maybe nothing as well…

“H-here,” Bob stammered out, before taking a deep breath and sinking down next to Y/N on the bed. Gently, he placed the towel along her forehead, and he couldn’t help himself as his thumb brushed along her jawline, tracing a small scar, no doubt from some mission. She leaned into his touch like a sunflower leaned towards the sun. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“No,” she shook her head, and this time, when her hand met his, she intertwined their fingers, as if afraid he might disappear. “Just stay, please.”

“Always.”

And there really wasn’t anywhere else Bob wanted to be.

The thought of spending the day at a bookstore, some ungodly sweet concoction that resembled a coffee only in spirit, in his hand, was only appealing because he would be going with Y/N there.

“We’ll go when I get better, I promise,” she muttered, as if having read his mind while snuggling closer to the palm he’d placed on her cheek.

“Books can wait.” Bob hoped his voice was low and soothing as he spoke, blue eyes still trained on the sweater that covered her body, his own feeling all fuzzy at the image. “Just rest.”

When he didn’t get a response or even a little hum of acknowledgement, he looked up only to find Y/N’s features slack with sleep, her chest rising in slow and steady breaths.

Bob wanted to curl up next to her, to have his hands wrap around her waist, and have her head rest on his chest as he buried his nose into her hair, because this was the highest degree of trust anyone could have in him. For Y/N to find peace and safety with him while she was in such a vulnerable state, catapulted Bob onto Cloud Nine. He knew darkness would always try to press in, try to find the cracks and strike when he was unawares, but this time he wasn’t afraid of what might be lurking in the shadows. Not when he knew he would have to be the one to step up, if only to protect the one he loved most in the world.

He sat there like that, entranced with the sleeping beauty on the bed, a thumb softly grazing her cheek, making sure Y/N was as comfortable as possible. He was so attuned to her and her sleeping form, that when the door cracked open, he was startled by Yelena coming in, a tray in her hands as she blew on a steaming bowl of soup.

“Okay,” once more the blonde sing-songed as she walked inside the room. “I have chicken-noodle soup for our little sick-bug.”

There was some grumbling from Y/N as she was brought out from her slumber, but despite all her protests, she rose into a sitting position, Bob’s hand on her back a steady help. She eyed the bowl with suspicion. “Who made it?”

“Do not worry, Dad was nowhere near the pot. He might be lurking for the leftovers now, but this!” She lifted the bowl above her head like it was a diamond, “is all from yours truly.”

Y/N sniffed the air. “Well, I guess it smells edible… not that I can smell much.”

“Then this is exactly what you need.” Yelena slid the tray to rest on Y/N’s knees while Bob helped her adjust against the backboard of the bed and was rewarded with the most gorgeous smile ever. “Here you go, legushka. Now, I’ll go get some paracetamol and VapoRub, and by the time I get back, I expect that bowl to be empty. It will do wonders for your sinuses, trust me.”

She didn’t argue, just let out a resigned sigh and nodded, taking the spoon in her hand. “You know, back in the Red Room, Mistress Vera said the best kind of medicine is a good beating. Will get you right back on your feet.”

“Yes, well, that is why Mistress Vera is six feet under.” Yelena fluffed up a pillow behind Y/N before nudging her chin up with a finger. “As is the whole of Red Room.”

“I mean right now, I think I’d rather get a good beat-“

“Eat,” Yelena interrupted whatever she was about to say.

“Fine, fine, Jesus…. You’re worse than Mistress Vera…”

Slowly, without moving her gaze from Y/N, Yelena stood to hover over her. Even Bob could feel the menacing aura she exuded – an older sister ready to torment her younger one. “And if you don’t eat every single noodle, every single piece of carrot and celery and chicken, you will be wishing Mistress Vera were here. Understood? Legushka moya?”

Though Y/N was bleary and tired, she was unwavering as the two Black Widows engaged in a stare-off. Unfortunately for her, though, she was the first one to break, as she rubbed at her teary eyes, probably because of the light that was filtering into the room from the open doorway.

“Damn it, Lena, fine! I’ll eat the stupid soup!”

“Good.” The blonde straightened out, a self-satisfied smile on her face. “Because Bob will tell me if you don’t. Won’t you, Bobik?”

His eyes turned so wide he was afraid they might fall out of his head.

God.

Oh god no.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place as Y/N glowered from below her lashes, sniffling, while Yelena cocked her head to the side.

Ultimately, though, his loyalty to the blonde and wanting nothing but the best for the well-being of the woman he was in love with, no matter what she might say to counter the effectiveness of the soup, won out. “Yeah. I – I will.”

Y/N scoffed, turning her head away from him as Yelena pressed a triumphant kiss to the top of her hair before leaving.

“Traitor,” she muttered.

Bob looked down at his hands, which he had resting in his lap as he worried the inside of his cheek. “I just want you to get better, Y/N…”

“And I just wanna lie down and die, but neither of you is letting me.”

“But who’s gonna go to the bookstore with me if you die?” He gave her a small smile, hoping to elevate her sour mood.

“I dunno, John?”

Bob gave her a look, their gazes meeting. “You actually think John can read?”

If Y/N had been eating the soup, no doubt she would’ve choked with how she threw her head back in a loud laugh, as Bob tried to steady the tray, the broth sloshing a bit out of the bowl.

“I’m sorry,” she chuckled, their fingers brushing as she held the platter and pulled it closer. “Didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“Don’t be.” The smile on his face was probably ridiculous, wide enough to make his cheeks hurt. “Laughter’s the best medicine or uh… something along those lines.”

“You should tell Mistress Vera that. Might have to use a OUIJA board though.” Y/N winced as the hot liquid slid down her sore throat, slowly chewing on a piece of noodle.

Admittedly, Bob didn’t know much about her time in the Red Room. He’d seen her shame rooms, just like he’d been privy to Yelena’s and the rest of the Thunderbolts’, as she’d been there when the Void had attacked New York, but once he came out of it, once they told him what he’d done, the feeling of having violated their privacy… he never asked either of them to talk about their time there.

All Bob knew was that Mistress Vera had been Y/N’s handler, as she’d been trained separately from Yelena and her sister Natasha. Only after the original Avenger had broken her out of the trance induced by the mind-control serum used to keep the Black Widows under the Red Room spell, did Y/N join the two in helping them take down the organisation.

“Oh… oh shit, I’m sorry,” her words of apology brought him back to the present, away from the thoughts of what she’d had to go through as a child, where a sore throat wouldn’t have been healed by a gentle touch, but a brutal beating.

His brows furrowed as he looked around, thinking she might’ve spilt the soup, but there wasn’t anything there. “Whatever for?”

“The dark!” she said, like it was a crime she’d committed. “Bob, you can put in some of the nightlights. They’re by the plugs.”

“Oh, that’s…” He shook his head, for once happy to be surrounded by mostly shadows because that meant Y/N couldn’t see the furious blush covering his face, while his longish hair obscured his smiling features as he glanced down at his hands. “It’s okay. I don’t mind actually.”

“But you don’t like the dark…?” The sentence was more of a question than the solid statement it used to be.

Bob shrugged, pulling down the sleeves of his sweater. “This isn’t that bad… and if it helps you feel better, your eyes to not hurt, I don’t mind.”

“I don’t want you to ‘not mind’ things. Bob, if you’re uncomfortable, you should put in at least one nightlight. Seriously. They’re not gonna boil out of my skull or something.”

“My comfort isn’t as important as your health right now.” He shifted on the bed.

“Of course it is!” The offended squeak Y/N let out would have made him smile, had it not turned into a violent coughing fit.

After she was done hacking her lungs up, Bob’s hand running up and down her spine, hoping to at least somewhat soothe the ache, he lifted the warm bowl of soup closer to her. “Eat. Or I will tell on you to Yelena.”

“Stukach,” Y/N mumbled in Russian, glaring at him as best as she could. Alexei and Yelena had introduced him enough to the language (mostly swearwords, which they said were the most important words) for him to understand she’d called him a snitch, but if being a snitch would motivate her to eat and get better, so be it.

With a fond gaze, he watched as she finally got some food into her, and once she was done, he took the tray away, placing it on the nightstand, a hand of his acting on its own accord as he brushed a finger along her cheek. “Better?”

“Yes. But don’t tell Lena that. She’ll just be insufferably smug about it.”

Shaking his head, Bob helped Y/N settle back into bed, tucking the blanket under her chin, but before he could even move a foot, her hand shot out, curling around his wrist once more.

“Bob?”

“Yeah?” He looked where the woman lay against the plush pillows, head slowly sinking deeper into the down.

“Could you… umm… and that is only if you really can’t get sick… could you maybe stay with me? Just until I fall asleep…”

He was sure his heart had skipped a beat. Or maybe it’d done a full-blown gymnastics routine, somersaults and all, because it definitely wasn’t beating in its normal rhythm in his chest.

“Y-yeah, of course, if that’s what you want.” Bob swallowed hard, nodding. “Just, uh… let me bring the tray to the kitchen, and then I’ll be right back.”

And with a small “okay” from Y/N as his dismissal, Bob scurried out of the room like lightning.

The hallway light was blinding compared to the darkness of the room he’d just spent about an hour in, but for the first time in his life, he craved it. Because in that darkness was safety and peace. In that darkness lay a body, curled up on a bed, covered in his sweater, waiting for him, hoping he’d help her get better.

He barely acknowledged Ava or Bucky, who called out to him, asking if he was alright, as he grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge and some of the pretzels Alexei had stashed behind pots and pans, hoping to hide his hoard. He wouldn’t mind, Bob reasoned. Y/N was like another daughter to him, and if she’d eaten the soup, despite all her protesting, maybe her appetite was gonna be coming back sooner rather than later, and he wanted to be stocked up on snacks. Besides, he could just blame Walker if needed.

When he returned, he was instantly enveloped by Y/N’s scent as if it were its own form of blanket.

“Hey,” Bob whispered, not wanting to break the settled peace. “I’m – I’m back.”

He mostly heard rather than saw shuffling on the bed, but as his eyes adjusted, he noted Y/N had moved to the side furthest from the door, opening up some space on the bed.

She’d done so before during the nights his mind had been restless, but somehow this felt much more intimate than when insomnia forbade him from sleeping.

Slowly, as if afraid this moment would be ripped from him if he moved any quicker, Bob placed the waters and pretzels on the ground, sliding in next to her, turning to face Y/N with one hand under his cheek, the other on the mattress between them.

“Thank you,” she muttered, the ghost of a smile on her face as her hand slid from below the blankets and rested atop his. “For taking care of me.”

“I–I mean, I didn’t –“

“You did,” she interrupted his stammering, tightening the grip she had on him. Gently, he flipped it palm up so that her fingers could slide between his. “And you still are. So thank you.”

And once again, like he’d said before, he simply replied, “Always.”

With that single word spoken, Bob watched as Y/N’s eyes drooped closed, her breathing evened out, and once again she was deeply asleep. Yet even when in dreamland, her hold on him never wavered. Not when she twisted out from the cocoon and scooted closer to him, not as chills overtook her body and Bob held her through them, not as the fever broke and a small sigh of relief escaped, her body slowly returning to a normal temperature.

For the first time in his life, Bob had found peace in the darkness, all because of the woman lying in his arms. And when it came to claim him too, he gladly fell, knowing that when he awoke, she would be there, much like she’d be in his dreams.

***

BONUS

“Oh my god! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, this is so cute!”

It was a harsh whisper-yell that brought Bob out of his slumber.

He peeked an eye open, noting the unmistakable shape of Y/N’s form in his arms. She was still sound asleep, her body curled around his like that of a koala’s, head tucked below his chin, while one of her arms had a death-grip on his waist, a leg thrown over his hip.

One of his own arms was underneath her, completely numb. From the feeling of it, it’d probably been there for ages, but if this position meant she was comfortable and could have a good sleep, he’d deal with the pins-and-needles a hundred times over if necessary.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Bob found the culprit or rather culprits of the noise as he was met with the faces of Yelena, Alexei, Bucky, Ava and John all looking at them through a gap in the door, the Red Guardian with a phone in his hand, no doubt taking pictures of the two cuddling.

“You guys,” he mumbled, a blush of embarrassment crawling its way all over his body. “Can you pipe it down? Y/N’s asleep.”

“How is Legushka?” Yelena whispered into the room. “Did the fever break?”

“Yes!” Bob hissed, turning away from the team and curling tighter around the body he had in his hold. “Now, can you all please leave? You’ll wake her up.”

“Sorry.” Bucky raised his hands in apology. “I told them not to disturb you. Come on! Out, everyone!”

Obviously, he more than Y/N, would get mercilessly teased about it, but he could take it, if it meant a bit more time with her in his arms, but just when he thought he’d gotten away with it, Walker just had to shout a loud, “Yeah, fucking get it, Bobik!”, making Y/N spring up.

She took a confused glance around at the room before her eyes settled onto Bob who was on her bed, red-faced and mortified.

“The toad did it,” Y/N said, her tone serious as a heart attack.

Bob blinked once. Twice. “What?”

“I swear the toad did it,” she mumbled, evidently delirious from sleep and the flu, but slowly moving back to lay down next to him, curling into the man’s body like it was where she belonged. “The toad ate the last strawberry. Damn thieving amphibian…”

Come morning, he would ask about the toad and the strawberry and if it had anything to do with Yelena’s nickname for her, but for now, Bob just pressed a light kiss against Y/N’s forehead, eyes slipping closed, listening to the melody of her breathing.

One day, he would tell her how he really felt.

One day, he would give his heart to her.

One day, he hoped, she would trust him with her own.

But for then and there, Bob was content with his present. With the peace he’d found in the darkness.

Tags: Marvel tags: @nerissa98 @asguardiansoftheavengers @crazybutconfidentaf @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae A/N: we are so back baby, Tower fics incoming! Bob, my love, my life... you bet your ass I'm probably gonna write something where OG Avengers are still alive and living in the tower with Thunderbolts*!!! The chaos that would ensue is giving me life Tags are always open

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fireinmoonshot · 2 days ago

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control | robert reynolds x fem!reader

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR MARVEL'S THUNDERBOLTS*.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x Fem!Reader Summary: Bob always waits for you to come back from missions, but when you don't come back one day, his powers start to get a little out of hand. Warnings: Mentions of fighting, concussions and injuries. Word Count: 1.8k A/N: This is one of the other fic ideas from the poll that I posted the other day! I really loved writing this one, it was so much fun so I hope that you'll all enjoy it as well. Thank you for all the love on my Bob fics so far. I'm loving writing for him! 💗

“You need to tell Bob that he doesn’t have to worry about me,” you tell Yelena from where you’re standing, one of Bucky’s arms wrapped around you to help you stay upright due to the pounding in your head and the pain in your ankle. “He’s going to panic when I don’t come back with you guys.”

They’re the first things you say to Yelena when the team decides that it’s important to take you to a hospital so you can get looked at. You’ve all sustained injuries before, but being hit in the head as hard as you had been made everyone concerned, and the fact that everything is spinning a bit definitely isn’t a good sign.

No one is surprised that your first thought isn’t about yourself, but about the man waiting for you back at the Watch Tower. They’re not oblivious to whatever it is that’s been going on between the two of you, but none of them have found the need to know specifics.

“We will,” Yelena assures you before urging Bucky to get going.

He’d been very insistent on accompanying you to the hospital as soon as they’d discovered the extent of your injury.

Yelena is full of nerves by the time they get back to the Watch Tower. The elevator journey to the penthouse, where Bob is waiting for you all to get back, is the longest minute of her life. There is no way that Bob is going to react well to this news, and part of their job involves keeping Bob and his powers in control, which is much easier to do when he’s calm and not worried about someone he cares for.

The second that Bob hears the elevator ding, he stands up from where he’d been sitting with his book and starts to jog towards it, a small smile on his lips. Everyone going on missions without him always makes him miss them more. You, especially.

“How did it go?” He asks, the second he sees Yelena exit the elevator.

His eyes scan over the rest of them – Walker, Ava and Alexei. You’re missing, and Bucky is missing as well. His heart drops into his stomach and he clenches one of his fists at his side, trying to control his emotions.

“Where is she?”

Yelena is quick to jump to action. She’s by Bob’s side in a second, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and help ground him. “She’s okay. Bucky took her to hospital to get looked at by a doctor but it’s nothing serious. She told me to tell you not to worry.”

He almost laughs at that. The fact that you’d told Yelena to tell him not to worry when of course he was going to worry about you, even if you’d told him not to. He spends half of his time worrying about you, especially when you go out on missions. This is the first time that you haven’t come home. The first time you’ve been injured more than just a couple of scrapes and bruises.

It’s the first time that Bob isn’t going to be the one patching you up afterwards.

“What happened?” Bob asks, eyes flickering up to Yelena’s.

She tightens her grip on his shoulder a little. “Why don’t we sit down?”

“No,” he shakes his head and pulls away from her grip, starting to pace back and forth. He can’t help it even though he knows it’s only going to make him feel worse. “No, I need you to tell me what happened. Everything.”

Walker, Ava and Alexei stand just inside the door of the room, watching him with furrowed eyebrows and worried expressions. You’d warned them that Bob was going to panic, but they hadn’t realised it’d be quite this serious.

“I don’t think you need to know specifics,” Walker suggests, taking a few steps further into the room. “Just trust us that she’s okay, all right, Bobby?”

Their concern is further elevated when Bob doesn’t even bother to respond to Walker. He continues his pacing back and forth, occasionally mumbling under his breath so quietly that they can’t hear what he’s saying.

If he’d been there, Bob thinks, maybe he could’ve prevented this. He should be going on missions by this point, even though he can’t really control his powers completely, he’s sure he could be of some use. He should’ve been there. It’s his fault, really, that you even got hurt in the first place. If he’d been there as The Sentry, he could’ve stopped all of this from happening and you’d be right beside him, unharmed. But you’re not. You’re in a hospital somewhere, probably alone in a clean, white room waiting for someone to check you over. You could be bleeding, maybe badly. There could be broken bones, or something internal that they can’t see until it’s too late. It could be any number of things, all of which could’ve been avoided by him being able to control his powers.

Yelena flinches as the lights in the penthouse start to flicker. She looks over at the others who all have the same expressions on their face. Bob is losing control. He continues pacing and the room starts to shake a little. She can hear the glasses in the cabinets clinking together. The coffee table vibrates on the floor and the windows start to creak a little.

“Bob’s doing this…” Ava says, taking a step towards him. “We need to stop him.”

“He’s going to cause some real damage if we don’t,” Walker agrees.

Yelena is quick to respond. “I’ll take him to see her. It’s the only thing that’ll work.”

“What the hell are you thinking? He could get even worse once he’s outside!”

“We have no other options!” Yelena shouts back.

She wastes no more time in walking over to Bob and stopping right in front of him where he’s standing. She’s a little surprised when Bob actually stops pacing and looks up, meeting her eyes. But then she sees the glowing in them and her concern grows.

“I’ll take you to the hospital to see her,” Yelena tries. “We can leave right now.”

The glowing in Bob’s eyes dims and then slowly disappears. She lets out a breath of relief, knowing that he’s back in control of himself now. The lights have stopped flickering and the room has stopped shaking.

“You will?” Bob asks, voice soft.

“I will,” Yelena confirms. She extends a hand for him to hold. “Right now.”

He’s reaching for Yelena’s hand when there’s another ding of the elevator and his head snaps towards it. Everyone else in the room follows his gaze as the doors of the elevator open and you and Bucky are revealed.

None of them have ever seen Bob run as fast as he does to get to you.

One second, he’s standing in front of Yelena and the next, he’s at your side, cradling your head in his hands and tilting it from side to side to examine the bandage that’s been wrapped around it and make sure you’re not injured too badly.

Bucky looks around at everyone. “What are you all doing?”

“She was right,” Ava says, motioning to you. “Bob panicked when she didn’t come back.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Walker confirms. “But your timing couldn’t have been any better.”

Neither you or Bob are listening to the conversation going on around you. You’re too focused on the feeling of Bob’s hands on your face and the look of relief on his face to focus on much else. He looks a little startled, too. His eyes are a little bit too wide and his breathing a little too heavy for someone who shouldn’t have been worrying about you.

“I’m all right, Bob, I promise,” you say, resting one of your hands on his wrist and dragging your thumb gently back and forth over his skin. “The doctors cleared me to go home. I have a mild concussion and a sprained ankle. I just need to rest.”

Bob shakes his head. “That’s not all right. A concussion is not all right.”

“It’s really okay,” you insist. “I promise I’ll tell you if I feel worse all of a sudden.”

“No,” Bob mutters, his gaze dropping from yours. “I should’ve been there. I could’ve protected you. If I had been there, none of this would’ve happened to you and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I should be able to be The Sentry without the other guy by now… if I could, I would’ve been there to save you from all of this pain.” His hands fall away from your face and he takes a step away from you.

You frown, hating the way that he’s blaming himself for this happening when you were the only one at fault. You hadn’t been paying attention in the fight, too distracted by what everyone else was doing, and that had been the reason the man you’d been fighting had gotten the better of you and slammed you into the wall. Bob had nothing to do with it, not even you being distracted.

“Bob, that’s not true,” you sigh, taking a step towards him and taking his face in your hands to force him to look at you. “None of this is your fault. How many times have you patched me up before? This is not the first time I’ve been injured on a mission. You’ve been there for me every time to patch me up afterwards. You always save me from my pain.”

His eyes meet yours again and you almost crumble at the sadness in them. He’d really been that worried about you that he’d turned to blaming himself for it… telling Yelena to tell him not to worry was clearly never going to work.

“This time, it was too much pain for me to patch you up from, though,” he murmurs.

“No, it wasn’t. I still need time to heal. And you’ll be there for me while I do, won’t you?”

Bob nods. “I’m not leaving your side.”

You reach down and take his hands in yours, giving them a squeeze. “You don’t have to.”

He takes a long, deep breath and steps a little closer towards you before leaning down and resting his forehead on top of yours, careful to avoid the bandage that’s wrapped around it and careful not to apply too much pressure in case he hurts you. “When I can control my powers,” he begins, “I’m never letting you get hurt again.”

“That’s a big promise.”

“I’ll keep it,” Bob hums. He stands up for only a second to lean down and press his lips briefly to your forehead, just underneath where the bandage is placed. “I’m glad you came home.”

You smile at the kiss and give his hands another squeeze. “I always will, so long as I have you waiting for me when I do.”

#bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x you #robert reynolds #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds x you #thunderbolts #thunderbolts x reader #thunderbolts x you #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu

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rafesangelita · 2 days ago

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♡ after hours with dilf!rafe

warnings: slight domestic fluff, heavy petting, oral (m. receiving), dirty talk, light teasing, unprotected sex, mentions of birth control, breeding kink (?),

“my, god..” rafe sighed, his voice deep and groggy as today’s activities started catching up to him. you looked up from where you were massaging lotion onto your legs, rafe’s pajama pants hanging low on his hips as he softly shut the bedroom door closed. “i’m fuckin’ spent.” he groaned, falling down on the bed with a huff. you adjusted the thin satin strap of your nightdress, a smile gracing your lips as you turned over and straddled him. he looked so sexy whenever he was tired. his eyes had that natural low lidded look, similar to the way he looked whenever you two couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

“are the kids asleep?” you whispered, running your hands over rafe’s toned chest. he hummed, resting his palms on the globes of your ass as you leaned down and pecked the corner of his lips. “mhmm, they knocked out as soon as they hit their beds..” at his words, you snaked a hand underneath his white tee, your nails toying with the hem of his pants. “still got some energy for me?” rafe rubbed his hands over your thighs, briefly taking his bottom lip between his teeth as your hips moved languidly in his lap. “we shouldn’t.” he blinked up at you— slow and heavy.

taking him out of the confines of his underwear, rafe’s head rolled to the side once he felt you grip him at the base. “but it feels so good..” you trailed off innocently, now stroking him as precum dribbled down the side of his cock. chest rising and falling in rhythmic breaths, rafe watched as you moved from his lap to his side, your legs tucked underneath you as you kneeled before him. cursing under his breath, you made sure to keep your eyes on him as you went down, licking a stripe up the underside of his length. “oh, fuckkk—” rafe hissed, his fingers instantly latching onto the roots of your hair.

you swirled your tongue around his throbbing tip, a moan sounding from you when he roughly groped your flesh. he would’ve landed a harsh smack to your ass instead but he didn’t want to risk the possibility of waking up the kids down the hallway. his face twisted as you took him in until he hit the back of your throat, his hips bucking instinctively as the tip of your nose met his pubic bone. “i love this fucking mouth of yours,” rafe praised you, “as much as you give me attitude with it, you make up for it by being my pretty throat princess, don’t you?” fuck, he was too good at talking like that..

pulling off of him with a gasp, rafe was quick to grab you by your shoulders and pin you down underneath him, his fingers running through your hair as he caught a glimpse of your bare pussy under the black, lacey material of your lingerie. “no panties?” he teased, “you were just begging to be fucked tonight.” wrapping your legs around his waist, you accepted rafe’s lips as he pulled you into a searing kiss, his fingers intertwining with your own as he grounded himself between your slippery folds. “you’re gonna have to be quiet, ‘think you can do that for me?” you nodded frantically, wanting nothing more than to feel him fill you up to the hilt.

“you’re asking me if i can be quiet?” you asked incredulously, “you’re the one who has to bury your face in my tits to keep you from letting the entirety of figure eight know you’re getting the best pussy on the island.” rafe shook his head in disbelief, the sticky tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. “smart ass.” he grunted, both of you moaning as he pushed inside of you, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck. with your lips right next to his ear, rafe listened to your hushed whispers, your words driving him crazy as he thrusted into you long and slow.

the intimacy you two shared while being this close to each other was unlike anything you two ever experienced before, the only sound being your shared gasps and the slickness of your cunt as your walls fluttered around him. “swear’ if you weren’t on birth control i’d knock you up so fucking fast,” he sped up a little bit, the slight change in momentum being enough to make your toes curl, “the kids always ask about having another sibling.. i just know they’d be over the moon about it.” your gaze softened at the revelation, the prospect of carrying rafe’s baby making you clench around him even tighter.

“they really talk about wanting another sibling?” you asked, your voice cracking as his stomach started smacking against your clit. “all the time,” he groaned, “they love you. i love you.” you could never get used to hearing rafe saying that, your heart beating in your ears as you felt your high about to wash over you. “i l-love you, too—!” you cried out, your nails raking down his back as pure euphoria clouded your brain, your body trembling while rafe’s hips stuttered, his cum spilling into you in thick, hot ropes. rafe could tell by the way that you gasped that he needed to cover your mouth to keep you from moaning out loud as your orgasm wracked through you.

eyes rolling to the back of your head, rafe clamped a hand over your lips as you trembled in his arms, both of your sounds being muffled as you milked his cock for everything he had. “oh, my god—” rafe shuddered, his forehead falling against your shoulder as you clenched around him like a vice. both of you waited until the aftershocks of your orgasms subsided before rafe moved his hand away from your mouth and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. rolling over to your side, you two laid there softly panting, your eyes blinking up at the high ceiling as you reveled in your post-orgasm bliss.

rafe glanced at the clock that sat on his nightstand, a relieved smile gracing his features as he started rubbing shapes into your side. “i promised the kids we’d spend the day at the country club tomorrow, is that okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your temple. “of course it’s okay,” you looked over at him, “what time is it?” rafe laughed as he picked up on your suggestive tone. “it’s barely ten o’clock, baby, i think the rules state that round two happens in the shower..” he whispered, bringing his lips down to yours as you giggled, your fingers stroking the nape of his neck. “oh, yeah?—” just then, you and rafe heard a tiny knock at the door.

“..daddy?”

thank you nonnie for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

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maskedbyghost · 2 days ago

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You're both already wrecked, sweat slicking your skin, your hands clawing at his back like you're trying to pull him deeper, even though he’s already buried to the hilt.

You’ve been at it for a while now—lazy, slow thrusts that feel more like worship than fucking, his mouth hot on your neck, murmuring filth and little nothings in that rough voice that always makes your stomach flip.

He’s so deep it’s making your head spin. Every drag of his cock feels like he’s carving himself into you, like he wants you to feel him long after he’s gone.

And maybe that’s why it slips out. Maybe that’s why you say it.

You don’t plan to. You just feel so full, so warm, so ruined, that it tumbles out between moans without warning.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Everything goes still.

Simon stops mid-thrust. Doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe.

You blink, panting, your hands still on his shoulders, confused by the sudden tension in his body.

“…Simon?”

He pulls back.

Not just his hips—his whole body. Just enough to look at you. His face is blank, eyes wide and dark and unreadable.

You feel cold all of a sudden.

“I—what?” he says. But he heard you. You know he did, because he’s already pulling away.

You try to keep your voice steady. “I said I love you.”

He’s quiet for too long...too fucking long.

Then he exhales, low and shaky, and steps back like you just slapped him.

“Don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Don’t say that.”

You stare at him, still half-naked, still aching, still open. “Why not?”

“You know why.”

You feel it start to break—something inside your chest, something you’d been holding together for weeks with sex and silence.

He grabs his shirt off the floor without looking at you. “This was never supposed to be that.”

“And what is it supposed to be, then?” Your voice is rising now. “Just convenient? Just something to do when we’re lonely and bored and pretending it doesn’t mean anything?”

He doesn’t answer.

He just pulls his shirt over his head and avoids your eyes like a fucking coward.

“So that’s it?” you breathe. “I tell you I love you and you just… leave?”

Simon finally looks at you.

His mouth opens like he’s going to say something—maybe explain, maybe apologize—but then he just swallows, jaw clenched, and turns away.

“I’m sorry,” is all he says.

And then he walks out the door.

You don’t call after him, you don’t chase. You just sit there, still aching from where he was, still wet, still shaking, with the taste of I love you still on your tongue like it’s poison.

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

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon riley imagine #simon riley #simon riley angst

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mwphisto · 2 days ago

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LaDs: Have they ever made you cry?

~ A general head-canon post! No warnings required

~ All love interests included

Xavier

⭐️No!

Xavier prides himself on being very mellow and honest. He may struggle a little bit with communication sometimes but overall it is impossible to imagine this man getting upset especially towards you. Honestly, you can’t recall a time when you’ve heard him raise his voice in general never mind at you. Xavier is level headed, with a tight leash on his emotions. Nothing really bothers him that much anyways, he’s more of a pouty boy than anything

Rafayel

🎨Yes

Rafayel’s emotions sometimes get the better of him. You two definitely bicker here and there, you’re not strangers to a little bit of push back. But overall, Rafayel is more dramatic while you’re level headed. There was one time where a fight got a little out of hand, you had a bad day and so did he, so you two just ended up butted heads. One thing lead to another, then another, then low blows started flying and well? Rafayel hit the target dead on, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Poor thing, he’s never felt worse.

Zayne

🩺Yes

Zayne has made you cry before, but not for the reasons you may think. When it comes to arguments? They’re not a thing. Very rarely will you two disagree on something, and it’s even rarer that the disagreement turns into a fight. Zayne can be blunt, too blunt sometimes, and way too in doctor mode. You had a rough day, got scraped up, and Zayne’s worry came out as a cold doctor scolding. He was so busy bandaging you up and reprimanding you that it wasn’t until you choked on a sob that he realized what happened.

Sylus

🍒No!

Sylus has never ending patience for you, a tolerance for your anger and bull shit so high you have yet to find his limit. The trick is, Sylus has no limit for his tolerance for you. He’ll take you happy, sad, angry, trying to kill him, doesn’t matter. Nothing you can do can send that man over the edge. Even your “fights” are one sided, and his calm demeanor ends up somehow calming you down too. So, no, Sylus has never made you cry, not once, and he never intends on doing so.

Caleb

🪐Yes

Caleb is gutted every time he’s made you cry. Obviously spending all those years together — from childhood to present — you’ll encounter several reasons to butt heads over something. But, those aren’t the reasons you’ve been reduced to tears. No, it’s Caleb’s actions that he didn’t realize would indirectly affect you. Y’know… such as getting blown up and then not contacting you to let you know he didn’t actually die… and you have to find out yourself.

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gayeddiejuice · 3 days ago

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🚨🚨 boots on the ground reporting 🚨🚨

ok just got off the phone with my friend, she is the mvp called me as soon as she clocked out while she walked to the train.

ok. first things first i asked. we’re they nice? and she said YES she said they were probably the easiest table anyone had she felt bad for everyone else cause she kept seeing all the handlers running back and forth and she was just chilling pretty much. she said they dinner was pre ordered but they didn’t eat much of it cause they probably ate at the pre party event. she was also like “did you know oliver is vegan?” LOL anyways. as the main handler the job is to make sure the vips have everything they need, so for example she would take all their food orders and then send it to the kitchen and then there’s a team of waiters who bring the food, the handler never leaves the table you have to be there in case they need anything.

she said since their team preordered most of the food it made her job so much easier, she basically just stood by their table all night just in case they needed anything. she did order lots of drinks tho she said they drank A LOT 😂😂 but it was mostly for all the people that kept coming over to their table, apparently they were super popular people from other shows kept coming over to talk to them. also lots of the other guests which is mostly just the advertisers, that’s the whole point of the party abc/disney has all these celebs there to mingle with advertisers to get them to sell stuff on their network. and she said everyone wanted to come to the 911 table!!

after the dinner portion the actual party starts and that’s when things get hectic cause the vips always scatter and if you’re their handler you gotta know where they all are at all times. i do not miss this job btw it gave me major anxiety.

during the party they pretty much stuck together which made her job so much easier and she said they all remembered her name when she only told it to them once when she introduced herself. listen she doesn’t know anything about this cast she kept calling them the girl and the asian guy or the two hot guys. which. yall. she said they were all extremely beautiful she said she kept blushing cause ryan (she fell in love with him btw) kept calling her by her name and asking her questions and he kept organizing the plates and glasses on the table to make it easier for the wait staff to pick up.

other than that she said later in the night she kept losing track of them cause again they were so popular 😂😂 mostly aisha, she said she seemed to be friends with EVERYONE and she said, i repeat she knows nothing about rpf she didn’t know what her words would mean, she said ryan and oliver (the two hot guys) hung out together the whole night especially once kenny left, she said he left at like 8 right after dinner, and aisha kept going to talk to other people but ryan and oliver stuck together all night. I said oh im so sure. 🤭

that’s pretty much it, i asked if she could hear their convos and she could but she didn’t really pay attention cause she didn’t recognize any names. she did say that they were all cracking jokes all night and they laughed a lot which idk warms my heart 🥹🥹

btw ryan and oliver did leave together and i think they were going to either go somewhere else with other people or they were having like an after party at the hotel? cause they kept telling people yeah we’ll see you “after” she didn’t really catch where “after” was but when they said bye to aisha ryan said “see ya at the hotel” and oliver told her to not take too long 😂😂 so idk I guess they’re still partying.

#everyone say thank you ansley 🙏🏼#she is starting 911 tomorrow #she fell in love with the cast now she wants in on the fandom #idk how to tag this lol #911 abc

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cherrygirlfriend · 2 days ago

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─── UNZIP ME ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

𐙚 pairing: nerd!rafe x perv!reader

𐙚 summary: rafe has difficulty undressing you.

𐙚 warnings / tags: smut, some fluff, MDNI!

𐙚 author's note: based on a video sent by nerd!rafe’s #1 stan @raahosh i hope you like it queen <3

PERV MASTERLIST 𐙚 RAFE MASTERLIST

after you and rafe started dating, your favorite part about going out was no longer the part where you’d flirt with everything that moved. it was no longer about batting your eyelashes at some poor bastard and making him think you’d be going home with him if he bought you and your girls a round of shots.

no.

you never thought you’d become one of those girls, but somehow, when you fell in love with rafe, your favorite part about going out was coming back; even better if the place you came back to was his dormitory.

you’d sneak into your boyfriend’s dorm with your heels in your hand, still wearing the dress you’d worn out that night. rafe would boil some water while you changed into one of his shirts that were too big on you (usually something related to star wars). he’d pour the boiled water into two noodle cups, and help you take your makeup off because you were ‘too tired’ when in reality you just liked having him take care of you.

the two of you would then cuddle up in his bed, eating your cup noodles while you told him anecdotes about your night, all the while some show was playing on his laptop.

this time was different, though. not only were you missing rafe, but you were craving him. the entire time you were at the shitty packed nightclub with your girls, only thing you could think about was him. it got so bad you ended up scrolling through your gallery for pictures of you and him.

finally, when you’d had enough, you decided to just tell your friends a little white lie about how you were feeling nauseous, and got an uber back to the boys’ dormitories.

soon enough, you were behind rafe’s door, your boyfriend’s eyes widening when he saw you standing there, “what are you-”

you interrupted his sentence by pressing your lips on his in a heated kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck. rafe moaned into the kiss, slamming the door shut so loudly it must’ve awoken a few other people residing in the dormitories, his touch making you feel drunker than the remnants of alcohol still in your veins.

your hands were on his hips, tugging him closer to you while also pushing him backwards towards his bed. you pulled away from the kiss, pushing rafe down onto the bed, his pupils blown wide as he looked up at you in surprise. you straddled rafe’s lap, tugging on his hair as your chest pressed against him.

“missed you…” you mumbled, your lips pressed against his, your ragged breaths mingling together. “missed you too…” he whispered and you connected your lips with his, your lips greedily moving against his. rafe’s hands started trailing up your back, searching for the zipper of your dress.

finally, though, when he found it, the boy couldn’t seem to be able to unzip it no matter how many times he tugged on it, and you couldn’t help the grin that took over your lips, pulling away from him in a breathless daze, feeling him starting to harden underneath you.

“i have to do everything myself, do i?” you chuckle, rising back to your feet, rafe letting out a disappointed whine, his lips in a pout. you turned your back to your boyfriend, and he watched as your skilled hands slowly unzipped the dress, revealing your bare back to him, his eyes widening.

you let the black dress pool at your feet before stepping out of it, taking slow, measured steps towards rafe, his eyes shamelessly trailing over your bare chest.

you straddled your boyfriend once again, a seductive smile on your face as one of his hands cupped your breast, his thumb pressing over your nipple, the bud starting to harden under his cold hands in a way that made you arch into him.

“much better.” you grin, tilting his head back by his chin, before bringing your lips to his and sliding your hands under his shirt.

TAGLIST: @raahosh @purpleplumpudding @rafesheaven @esotericcangel @mattyskies @bakugouswaif @littlelamy

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sobbingscripter · 2 days ago

Text

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼wc. 3317🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

a/n. low-key forgot to specify the timeframe but this is like, a couple days after the sex.

“You know, I’d really fuck the shit out of Riddler.”

“Can we bring back shame?” Mark lowers his comic book, expression scrunched into a grimace as he stares at you from where he’s lounged on your bedroom floor, the edge of his T-shirt raised just enough to showcase his rippling abs and that deep, deep V.

“I’d suck the tip clean off.” You’re unbothered by his audible gag, simply focused on the crack of paper as you turn the page, your legs extended and crossed at the ankles, your toes wiggling in your socks and you let out a bashful giggle, biting lightly down on the nail of your index finger as your eyes rove over the panels. Your eyes focus on the bright colours, occasionally flitting towards Mark’s seething expression.

“I’m disturbed.” He announces, before lifting himself from the floor, muscles flexing as he stretched his arms overhead and he sets his comic down on the bedside table, before prying yours from your hands and tossing it into your desk with freaky accuracy.

Gorgeous brown eyes stare at you from beneath long lashes, gaze roving over you and the way you lounge so lazily across your bed, a double chin formed at the way your head is propped up by pillows.

“You’re gonna get a neck pain like that.” Mark huffs, before moving to stand at the edge of your bed, hands wrapping around your ankles and he tugs you roughly, your head sliding off the pillow and he moves to straddle your hips. Hands slide up your arms, fingers lace with yours and he pins your hands to the soft covers and he cracks a grin.

“How’s college?” Mark inquires. “Mom says you’re an overachiever.”

“Define ‘overachiever’.” You peer up at Mark through your lashes, your gaze locked on his, and goddamn, your brain’s melting the more you focus on how warm his hands are against yours. Fingers laced with yours, folded over one another like they belong there, his lashes fluttering with each blink and the curve of his smile as he just looks at you.

Not doing anything.

Just looking.

And you’re starting to think Pinterest was right when he brings a hand up, gently picking an eyelash from your cheek before he fists his hand, brushing it against your chin and he mimics an explosion.

And the laughter just bubbles from you, your head tipped back as giggles fall from your lips, and he shifts his body, wrapping his arms around your waist and he pulls you onto him. Your knees dimpling the sheets on either side of you, his face pressed into the curve of your neck, lips ghosting over the supple skin that has an indentation by a bra strap too tight and Mark’s teeth bite into the elastic, tugging it from your shoulder and he presses his lips against the mark left behind.

His lips are soft.

Hands cradle you like you’re something delicate, like you haven’t been his biggest bully for majority of his life, and you melt against him.

Muscular arms keeping you pressed against him, your soft thighs bracketing his hips and you press your lips against his temple.

“I didn’t think heroes had the free time to dick around like this.” You hum with a snort, your hands shifting, cupping Mark’s face as you lift yourself, pulling one of the pillows absentmindedly to prop his head up and he watches you with soft, heart eyes.

“It’s Saturday.” He answers you, hands bracketing your hips. “I’ve got all the time in the world.” He pauses. “Until night time. Then I have no time.”

“My mom said we can patrol tonight if it’s okay with your mom.” Your giggle is melodious, it’s sweet and messy all at once. His eyes rove over the curve of your lips, the dimples in your cheeks and the way your eyes crease at the corners. He likes the way your necklace dangles so carelessly, he loves the way your eyes watch the sun and he just loves.

He's known you for over a decade and he can’t think of a single thing he hasn’t fallen in love with.

“When did you get so… pretty?”

Mark’s voice is a soft, almost theatrical whisper, his thumbs brushing along the soft flesh of your hips where your shirt had ridden up. “You look like an angel…”

“It’s the sunlight.” You snort at him, a grin curling your glossy lips. That warm, summer-y smile that has his breath stuttering in his lungs, your hand shifting to cradle his cheek, your palm warm against his flesh.

“No.” He lets out a breathless laugh. “No, like… you look like a fucking painting right now.”

“Wait, like, really?” Your brows furrow.

“Yeah, like… that painting of— you look like a Monet.” He tilts his head, pressing a kiss to the softness of your palm. And there’s a warmth that burns at his belly when your head tips, a light and easy smile creeping onto your face.

“You’re really beautiful…”

The sweetest silence settles between the two of you, and Mark hums softly. He never thought loving someone could be this easy. He knows it’s not too soon. It never could be when it’s you.

“Which painting?” You hum softly, leaning forward and your lips press against his cheek.

“Bitch—” Mark huffs. “Just touch my wiener.”

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“I’m not a furry but—”

“You’re gonna say the most furry thing ever.”

“The shark could get it.”

Mark lets out a heavy breath, eyes shutting and he takes a moment. Before looking at you, expression distasteful and he grimaces.

“Can we never watch ‘The Reef 2’ without you wanting to fuck an actual shark?”

Mark watches the way you shovel a handful of chips into your mouth, your gaze locked on his and he should be turned off, but the way your grin grows as you shake your head, mischief in your actions as you giggle.

“No.” You snort. “No we can not.”

“Sick freak.” He grunts under his death, reaching over, a pudgy thumb wiping away the crumbs from the corner of your mouth, absentmindedly bringing his thumb to his lips, licking away the salt before turning his attention back to the screen of your TV.

And your lips purse and you try to ignore the way your pulse flutters, instead focusing on shuffling more comfortably, your back pressing against your puffed up pillows and you swallow.

“That’s gross. I don’t know where your thumb was.”

“It’s gonna be in your ass if you don’t stop fucking with me.” Mark takes another handful of chips, his toes wiggling in those stupid fucking Hot Wheels socks.

And you swallow.

“Say ‘no homo’.”

The leer Mark gives you is something nightmares and very, very dark fantasies are made of and he takes a slow slurp of his smoothie, lips pursed around the straw. And he simply turns his attention back to the screen, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile hidden but the dimple in his cheek pops.

“Mark, say ‘no homo’!”

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“Oh my God.” Mark grunts. “Why did I agree to this?”

His knees and palms dimple your mattress, powdery blue sheet refusing to bend to his will, edges popping off the corners of your mattress and you hum, lips curled as you keep your eyes glued to that stupidly perky ass.

“I don’t know but I’m loving the Invinci-cheeks.”

Mark glares at you over his shoulder, the tips of his ears burning a furious red as he clenched his jaw, annoyance only spiking at the way your grin widens.

“Yeah, look back at me.” You tease.

And Mark huffs. “Same way you looked back at me?”

The silence is deafening, your obnoxious slurping stilling and you swallow, sucking in your cheeks and Mark doesn’t know why the act makes him a little breathless. He’s seen you do it countless times when you’re speechless, unable to come up with an immediate retort but he swallows hard.

“That’s a pretty fucked up thing to say.” You whisper, your heart beating erratically pounding behind your rib cage because did you actually look back at him?

And Mark lets out a huff, finally managing to spread the sheet comfortably enough, and you plop down, internally gloating at the way he silently stews at the creases that form in the sheet.

“Why’re you making me make your bed?” Mark huffs, muscular arms crossing over his chest. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“Because, dear, naïve Mark, when you leave, I’m gonna take an 8 hour nap and wake up on a plane of existence higher than yours.” And you stretch your arms overhead, letting out a yawn and Mark’s eyes drop to where your shirt rides up, exposing the soft skin of your belly, and his arm reaches out, a warm hand splayed across your tummy. It’s sweet and a little weird, but you like the way the heat seems to sink into your navel, warming you up like some kind of humanoid toaster.

“That’s nice.” You sigh softly, your lashes fluttering and you rest back, your back flush against the memory phone and your head lolls, gaze falling on Mark and the way he looks at you like you’ve personally designed and hung the stars in the sky.

“You’re so—”

“Do you have a foreskin?”

Mark’s expression falls. “Can we not have a single nice moment without you ruining it?”

Your lips purse and your brows furrow like you’re deep in thought before you shake your head. “No, m’sorry. I can’t see that happening for us.”

He would be annoyed if that devious little smile on your lips didn’t make his tummy tense, and his hand reaches for the front of his jeans.

“You wanna check if I have a foreskin?” He questions and once you nod, you’re wishing you didn’t. Because seeing Mark undo his buckle with one, nimble hand, is a religion you weren’t sure you’d ever find yourself being a part of but holy fuck, you could watch him do that for hours.

Mark frees his cock. Easily, and lazily pushing the waistband of his boxers down and he shifts comfortably. You’d think it’d be less impressive because he’s soft but no. Not at all.

A pretty, flushed pink head, just a little bit darker at the base with a teensy bit of skin that overlaps just the ridges of his tip and you purse your lips.

“Is now a bad time to tell you I can’t tell the difference between cut and uncut when they’re soft?” You peer up at Mark through your lashes, shifting a bit more comfortably and he lets out a huff of a laugh.

“Here’s the scar,” He hums, moving just a bit closer and he shows you that barely imperceptible scar, right near his tip, “see?”

You don’t know what convinces you to do it. You really don’t.

But you’re tracing your thumb over the scar, peering up at him through your lashes and your eyes are so soft, so concerned.

“Who did this to you?”

“Oh my fucking God.”

The laugh bubbles from him easily, his head tipping back and you watch the curve of his throat as he laughs, shoulders shaking and lips curling. Pearly teeth showcased, and the dimples in his cheeks deepen, accompanied by a healthy little flush and he snorts, before looking back down at you.

He watches the way you watch him, teeth biting down on your bottom lip to hide your smile but he can see the way your cheeks turn rosy the longer you watch him.

And you look back down, tracing your thumb over the scar once again. Feeling the subtle change in texture.

“It’s a cool scar though.” You hum. “Kinda makes your dick look like a hammerhead.”

Mark nearly loses it when you begin to hum the Jaws theme, biting the inside of his cheek to stifle the laughter but it all comes to a grinding halt when his dick twitches, and your lips part, watching as a bead of precum slowly drips from his slit. And he swallows.

“Do you get hard when people make jokes?” You raise a brow, scooping up the bead and watching the way it rests so comfortably on the pad of your index finger, and he shakes his head.

“Only you.” He inhales sharply when you trace that divot with your finger, his brows furrowing and he tries to keep his hips from twitching, anchoring them down to the bed instead of letting them crave the contact.

Your lips purse in concentration, before you hum quietly.

“You gave me head but I never got to do it to you.” You state with a hum, nails tracing patterns on his thigh, and he can feel the ticklish sensation through the denim of his jeans and he swallows.

“You— uh-um… You don’t have to. I don’t mind if you’re not into that…—”

“I am.” You reassure, eyes lowered and watching the way his cock stiffens, blood rushing all the way to the appendage as it flushes a pretty, rosy pink and your hand wraps around his base.

Your hand’s all warm, all soft and delicate-fingered. The cool metal of your rings make his skin prickle and his hips are jutting before either of you can say anything, cum spurting across the front of your T-shirt, as well as creamy ribbons that reach all the way up to the curve of your jaw.

And you swallow.

“I— fuck, m’so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” Mark’s breath stutters when your head dips, your eyes locked on his and your tongue drags along the tip of his cock, wet muscle flicking against his slit. And his hands fist the sheet.

“Finish making my bed.” You lift yourself from where you’re resting, unbothered by the mess on your throat and you make your way towards your en suite, closing the door behind you and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Internally panicking and you have to fight to get your nerves steady.

And your lips purse, an intrusive thought causing you to drag your digit through the messy spent on your throat, and you bring your finger to your lips. Tasting the peculiar taste. Brows knitting as you try to place the flavours. Sweet. A little bit bitter, and so, so warm.

Mark stares at the bathroom door, his heart pounding in his chest before he grabs his phone, bated breaths slipping past his lips and he pants hard. Thumbs flying across his keyboard and his leg bounces.

Invinci-bitch: “Tell Cecil I’m not coming.”

Invinci-bitch: “Space flu or whatever.”

Rex takes a while to respond.

Rex Splooge: “Space herpes. Got it 👌”

Fuck. Mark discards his phone, tucking himself back into his boxers before continuing to make your bed, although, big brown eyes keep glancing towards the bathroom door.

He’d really prefer to not have ‘space herpes’.

But he’ll take what he gets.

Especially if what he gets, involves that plush, shit-talking mouth wrapping around his cock.

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“William, she’s making my hands sweaty.”

Mark’s voice is hoarse, wiping his sweaty palms on the surface of his shorts for what could be the eighth time this hour, eyes darting towards where you’re helping clean up the kitchen, a mess after Mark’s 13th birthday party. A few neighbours kids, maybe a handful of classmates he liked and a mess of wrapping paper that you’d suggested he keep.

“Yeah.” William slurps on his milkshake, blueberry tinting the inner bits of his lips a slight blue. “Me and your dad were mocking you for it.”

And Mark huffs.

“Of course you were.” And he glances back towards you, your arms submerged in soapy hot water, lips curled into a grin as you chat so easily with Nolan, who’s rough hands remain drying the dishes. “She’s so… pretty.”

Mark’s lips curl at the memory, eyes focused on you as you continue swiping through your For You page, attention entirely captured by the sight of makeup brushes, gently brushing against some stupidly overpriced mic, accompanied by gentle taps against the stand. His arm remains tossed over your belly, cheek pressed against your shoulder and a leg wrapped around yours. His warm palm, pressed against your even warmer tummy.

And he swallows.

“I think Mark’s got a crush on you.” Nolan’s voice is quiet, hands wrapped up in a plaid kitchen cloth, the bright crimson standing out against his muscular forearms. “Look.” And you follow Nolan’s gaze towards Mark.

Surrounded by kids, opening birthday presents and giving toothy grins and sweet ‘thank you’s.

And your expression softens.

“Mr Nolan, if Mark likes me, it’s because he’s never spoken to another girl before.” You snort. “He’d have a crush on William if William was a girl.”

And you glance back towards Mark, catching his gaze and you watch the way his lips curl, perfect teeth displayed and God, your heart clenches in your chest. And you smile back, trying to play off the way those rosy apples make your face heat up.

“Your heartbeat got sooooooooooooooo fast.” Nolan whispers, almost conspiratorially. And you glare up at Nolan.

“I’ll make him dress up as Duct-Tape Man.” You threaten and Nolan’s eyes narrow at you. And you snort out a laugh.

“Why’d you get so mad about that in the first place, sir?” You question.

“He used the good tape.”

“It wasn’t because you were the only girl I spoke to.” Mark speaks up, swallowing heavy and he glances up towards your face, eyes roving over your features and ultimately, landing on the curve of your bottom lip. So plump. So inviting.

“Huh?” You question, a brow raising and you pause the video on your phone, screen displaying, ‘GRWM FOR CONFRONTING MY BF ABOUT CHEATING ON ME W/ MY BD’.

“When you told my dad I would only like you because you’re the only girl I spoke to.” He whispers softly. “That wasn’t why.” His warm grip tightens on your waist, fingers pressing into the soft, squishy flesh.

“It was because you were the only girl I wanted to talk to.”

There’s a knot in your belly, your lashes fluttering with each slow, cat-like blink you give Mark and you feel the way his heartbeat gets faster. His breathing deepening and his eyes flicker towards your lips, brows knitting in a way that could only be described as longingly before he meets your gaze again.

Puppy eyes soft and loving.

“You’re still the only girl I wanna talk to.”

Your expression softens, lashes fluttering so prettily and you swallow, the corners of your lips tugging downwards and you can feel your eyes becoming a little bit glossier.

“What about William?” Your voice is sweet, and so soft, and it would’ve sounded earnest if he didn’t understand you. And he snorts.

“William doesn’t count.” He huffs out a laugh, his hand leaving your belly to cradle the side of your face, wiping away that fat rivulets before it an even reach the curve of your cheek and his lips curve into a soft smile.

Before he teases you.

“Now say something nice about me.” He nudges you, shifting over you until your thighs are on either side of his hips, one hand bracing your hio whike the other presses against your cheek.

“You too, are the only girl I wanna talk to.” You snort and Mark rolls his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek to hide the grin that threatens to make his cheeks dimple in that adorably dorky way.

“I’m a man.” He corrects.

“You’re a boy at best.” You huff.

And he leans in, the ball of his nose brushing against yours, breath ghosting over your lips.

“Oh really?” He hums. “You wanna see how much of a man I am?”

T🌼A🌼G🌼L🌼I🌼S🌼T

@lucky-beheaded ; @queen-of-gotham ; @coldvirginbitch ; @wittyjasontodd ; @a-n-a-n-a1 ; @dearlyya ; @broicouldjustbuyyousomekombucha ; @jasontoddswhitestreak ; @daydreams-and-peace ; @misstyy12 ; @fruticake ; @httpstes ; @waterflowersblog ; @glowinthedarkjellyfish ; @vm4879bb-blog ; @monaekelis ; @radlovesfics ; @allycat4458 ; @bigbodycity ; @feral010 ; @anesthesia-4rizzle ; @princesstrunkz ; @blackfox774 ; @sh1d0uryus31 ; @your-lovely-rose26 ; @slugstarzz ; @ripcolel0l ; @strawbiemilk420 ; @verysynical ; @kikiiguess ; @missam ; @luvvfromme ; @luvvcharxo ; @alma-ru3 ; @mxvoid26 ; @urfriendlyfrog ; @the-good-kooshe ; @troublesome-nara ; @secretaccountlol ; @syubseokie; @atanukileaf ; @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere ; @i-love-frensh-fries ; @lov3vivian ; @boyofroyo1 ; @tamaranblaze ; @supersecretxreadersideblog ; @etphonehome0623 ; @markgraysonlover ; @icanmeltanigloo ; @itzmeme ; @buckturd

#sobbingscripter #our turn🌼#invincible fanfic #invincible mark grayson #mark grayson invincible #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x reader smut #invincible mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #invincible #invincible x reader smut #invincible x you #invincible x reader

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moondustbaby · 2 days ago

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Soaked Through (bsf!rafe)

cw: dry humping, mutual masturbation, cum play mdni 18+

⸻

It starts as a joke. It always does with you and Rafe.

You’re sprawled on his bed in nothing but a tank top and panties, legs slung over his thighs, your laugh catching in your throat when he grabs your hips and pulls you into his lap. He’s only in boxers, and you’re warm and buzzing from a shared blunt and whatever tension’s been building between you since sunset.

“You’re gonna break my heart one day,” he says, low, like a confession and a challenge, and then you’re grinding down on him before you can even think twice.

There’s no friction at first—just the smooth drag of your soaked panties over the soft cotton of his boxers, the head of his cock already leaking and nudging right where you need him. You tilt your hips, find the spot that makes your toes curl, and ride it. Slow at first. Testing. Teasing. But his hands tighten on your waist, guiding your rhythm like he’s seconds from snapping.

“Jesus, baby,” he grits, breath hot against your collarbone. “You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

And you are. The front of your panties clings to you, sticky and dark, and when you press harder, rocking over the thick ridge of him, you feel how drenched his boxers are too. There’s a wet, obscene squelch every time you roll down, your slick and his precome smearing between the thin layers of fabric like you’re already fucking.

Your thighs start to shake.

“Rafe,” you whimper, forehead pressed to his, breath stuttering. “Gonna—”

“Yeah?” he pants, watching your face like it’s the only thing that matters. “Come just like this? Just from grinding on me, baby?”

You nod, desperate. He lets you, lets you use him like that, hands everywhere—palming your ass, dragging you down harder, flexing under you like he’s holding back from flipping you over and ruining you.

And then you’re there, coming hard with a soft cry, the wet patch on your panties growing as your whole body shudders. Rafe groans—loud and guttural—and jerks beneath you once, twice, and then he’s following, coming in his boxers with a twitch of his hips and a hiss through his teeth.

You both freeze for a second, breathing heavy. The mess between you is hot and sticky, soaked through cotton and pressed against skin.

But you’re not done.

Your fingers slip under the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down just enough to free his cock, still slick and twitching. He hisses as the cool air hits him, and you hook your fingers into the side of your panties, dragging them aside.

And then you’re back on him, dragging your soaked folds along his length, spreading the mess—his come, your come—everywhere. Over the head of his cock, along the shaft, down to his base and back again. You smear it with your hips, your thighs trembling, both of you moaning like you’re high on it.

“Fuck,” he whispers, watching the way you move on him like he’s hypnotized. “You tryna kill me?”

You just smile, grinding slow and messy, your come mixing with his, smearing against your inner thighs. His hands grip your hips like a prayer and a warning, but he doesn’t stop you. He never would.

Not when you’re like this.

Not when it’s you.

a/n: this may or may not be inspired by a p!link i saw on X (twitter)…. anyways pls let me know if you want more of these types of blurbs?? less formatting more quick whats on my mind type of stuff 🙃

♥️ lani

masterlist

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okwonyo · 2 days ago

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ONLY YOU, MY GIRL ★ only you, babe.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝟏𝟕𝟏𝟏𝒾──── enhypen 𝗑 f!rea ✿ fluff 𓂋 kissing skinship ❞ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ｡ ⠀

𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦

HEESEUNG

holds your bag for you. he is always ready to do anything and everything for his sweet angel. when you go out together, he doesn’t want you to be bothered by your bag, especially if you are holding stuffs as well. therefore, in the proof of his devotion of you, he holds your bag whenever you are out. it has came to the point where he chooses his outfit that matches with the bag you are wearing that day.

take care of your appearance. not that you need to have anything changed about it. however, whenever he notices that your shirt is put in a weird way or when you have one of your eyelashes that fell onto your eye, it his mission to take the matter into his own hands. his favorite thing to do is to tuck a wild hair strand behind your ear when your hair is up in a cute ponytail.

shuts up as soon as you tell him. listen, what else can he do, really? heeseung tends to be very flirty, very chatty. you tend to get shy so easily. and when he starts to tease you with his flirting, your first reflex is to be a tad mean to him. “heeseung, shut up, i will hit you,” you tell him, pushing him away from you weakly. your tone is cold, yet the man giggles like a teenager and does shut up immediately.

JAY

praises you all the time. he can’t control it. he notices so much things about you— and he is always in awe of everything that you have, everything that you do. sometimes he praise you for the bare minimum, for eating lunch or taking a nap. he likes to pat your head ever so gently without ever forgetting to add, “good girl,“ and a kiss on your forehead while you blush.

puts on your shoes for you, even if you insist that you don’t need to. your boyfriend’s chivalry goes over the roof and he feels the uncontrollable need of always taking care of you. therefore, when you get ready to go out and he notices your shoes in your hands, he is quick to snatch them away from you and get on one knee. you always laugh at him, assuring that he doesn’t need to. “but i want to.”

doesn’t let you pay for anything. it’s really the first thing you noticed about him. at your first date, he payed for the dinner while you went to the bathroom. he did it at the second, the third and at every date you had since then. his habit extended to daily life; his card is the one registered on every shopping site you like, he slides it in your purse whenever you tell him that you want to go shopping and he buys even the smallest thing you mention.

JAKE

walks on the roadside. of course, he know basic gentleman actions. when you walk on the sidewalks, he makes sure that he is always walking on the side next the cars, the roadside. he doesn’t know why, it’s just a sense of urgency, an alarm that goes off, an unspoken rule. he slides his hand on your waist whenever you are walked where you are not supposed to, he moves to the side, “stay there, my love,” he tells you.

brings you breakfast in bed. it’s a lovely habit of his that you are always so surprised to witness. every few weeks, jake’s soft lips place kisses on your skin in the hope of waking you up. nothing new, that’s how he usually gets you out of slumber. but when you open your eyes, he has your pink apron on and proud smile on his face, “good morning, princess. i bring you breakfast.”

let’s you sit on his lap. he doesn’t let you, he actually wants you to be there very much. it makes him smile, whenever there is plenty of room, many seats where you can sit— even right next to him. yet, you decide to sit on his lap every single time. jake let’s you, without complaining. even if he is holding something in his hand or if he is busy talking to a friend. his girlfriend wants to sit? he’s eager to serve her.

SUNGHOON

lifts you up as much as you want it. your boyfriend is strong, stronger than anyone you have ever known. he can pick you off the floor without any effort needed. most of the time, the worlds doesn’t need to leave the barrier of your lips, he just knows. he holds you bridal style, like the princess you are to get up those stairs. he is happy to hop you over his shoulder to go to bed when you are too lazy to walk. a eyelashes bat is all it takes to get a piggyback ride out of him.

he is always so gentle with you. it is something so subtitle yet so important. your lover, despite his impressive frames and sculpted muscles is the most gentle person you have ever know. he holds your so softly, as if you were the most fragile porcelain doll he has ever seen. he takes you in his arms, presses you against his chest when he hugs you with such a care that it makes you want to cry everytime.

gives you the first bite of his food. it’s natural to him, when his food is served— when his dishes his different from yours— he takes his spoon, takes a bit of what is in his plate and guides it to your mouth. it’s not that he absolutely needs your opinion on it, although it’s better, he just feels like you should always have the first bite of his food: because he loves you that much.

SUNOO

gives you his jacket. he has seen many movies before; about a lot of different subjects, and about romance especially. he has seen that scene where the man gives his jacket to the woman he likes when she is cold. when he does it for you, when he takes off his precious jacket to drape it on your shoulder, he understands why it’s such a romantic gesture. loving you enough to know when you are slightly cold is his favorite thing about himself.

he hugs you when you are embarrassed. sunoo finds it adorable, how easy it is to tease you, how simple it is to make you shy. he is not a the type to tease, he never was, but there is something about the way you blush whenever he gets too playful for your heart. he especially adores when you hide your face in the crook of your neck out of shyness and he is alway happy to welcome you in his arms.

helps you take off your coat or shoes. he is surprised by his own actions— acting like such a knight in shining armor is something new to him. yet, it becomes one of his habit so naturally. whenever you come back home, he is quick to get behind you and take your coat off your shoulders as you sigh heavily. he even gets on his knees to help you take off your shoes. his reward is getting kissed by such a sweetheart like you.

JUNGWON

holds the umbrella for you. “babe,” he says, his nose facing the sky. his eyes squint as he feels droplets on his skin. he is always so fast to open his umbrella, as if he knew the weather like the back of his hand, “come here.” he tells you, although he is already holding the umbrella above your head. you tell him to get under it too, but he refuses, claiming that there is not enough space for the both of you.

brings you flower. jungwon is a little extra, perhaps. he doesn’t send your favorite flowers to wherever you may be at the moment. he goes out of his way to be able to give them to you in person, in the utmost need of seeing your smile when you receive them and to feel the joy that your lips on his own makes him feel.

his first priority is you. you are aware that your boyfriend’s life is full, that he is a very wanted and wanted man. never you have excepted for him to put anything but his work the priority in his life— which is why you are always taken aback when he proves you otherwise. he is alway there for you. whether you are sick or just feeling a bit down, he puts everything on the side to be there for you. “i’ll be home in a few, sweetheart, wait for me.”

RIKI

let’s you put cute things in his hair. if there is one thing he dislikes, it’s definitely pink. he doesn’t really know since when it started, but he doesn’t like that color anymore. but if there is one thing he likes, loves even, the it’s you—therefore, yes, he lets you put your sanrio hair clips and pink ribbons in his hair. he keeps them until you tell him he can take them off, and honestly, he is starting to like these in his hair.

goes shopping with you. when you bring your boyfriend to your shopping session, you pretty much just drag him all around the mall as much as you want. during your shopping spree, he is destined to do a lot of things; such as being a tester for the makeup, the perfume and the skincare. he doesn’t mind doing all of these stuffs honestly, because he gets to be with you. he serves you with all his heart, his hands full of your snacks and shopping bags.

shares his jewelry with you. riki values his dressing a lot, as the fashion lover he is. and the favorite thing about making an outfit is adding accessories. he cherishes his jewels a lot and you admire his collection the most. of course, he knows how much you like his rings, it’s obvious whenever you stare at his hands. “give me your hand,” he chuckles, taking off one of the rings on his hand. he slides it on your finger with a sweet smile. “now, we match.”

분지 ܃ i’m very tired so this is um.. but i hope you still enjoyed and i will try to post something better soon 💌

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