#but somehow i managed to get up and walk all the way to the gym

[bunnihearted]

goddess the body feels sooo good after a workout 🫠

[fallenangelkitten]

Unravel Me

Synopsis: You have Henry as your personal trainer/gym partner for the day.

Warnings: size kink, age gap, praise kink, cum shot

Note: I used to be fallenangelbb here on the Henry Cavill side of tumblr but deleted my account and have regretted it ever since. So here I am reposting my work :)

“Where shall we start?” He asked, looking around the gym. I wiped my hands on my leggings; my nerves were getting to me and we hadn’t even started. He seemed comfortable, but I was out of my element. I had only been training for a couple of weeks, so I wasn’t very strong at all. But Henry was ginormous; I had only reached the middle of his chest, and his arms alone seemed overpowering.

I felt myself fidgeting with my fingers. “Erm, we usually start with small weight warm ups, but I’m sure that’s not going to do much for you,” I responded, keeping my eyes down.

He cocked a brow, “Why, so?”

“I-I don’t know. You just seem much more… experienced than me,” I knew my face was as red as a tomato. A sly smirk grew on his face, a chuckle leaving his throat.

“I’m sure you’ll manage, little one.”

“I’m really very new at this, Henry. I should have started ages ago, but I guess now is better than never,” I explained, shrugging my shoulders.

His tongue ran across his bottom lip. “I’m sure we’ll manage to figure something out.”

—-

We had been training for well over two hours and my body was burning. I had just gotten done bench pressing- arms shaking and all. I was unbelievably embarrassed. He was just as sweaty as I was by the end of it, but somehow he looked exquisite.

“I’d call that a success,” he acknowledged, hands resting on his hips and chest heaving with each breath.

I had my hands resting on my knees, just trying hard to not pass out, “Oh, uh, yeah. So, so great,” each word left my mouth in huffs.

He fought to hold back a laugh. “It’s okay, you’ll get better. And it’ll be easier with every time you do it,” he encouraged, a smile on his beautiful lips.

If I hadn’t been for how disastrous I’m sure I looked, and the fact that he seemed so much older, I might have thought he was interested in me. I had been catching little glances throughout the entire regimen, and the way he spoke to me? God. When I would finish a rep he would hold my gaze and praise me; saying things like ‘Good Girl’. I felt a sigh escape from me.

”(Y/n)?” He asked, his eyebrow raised, pulling me out of my racing thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes, I’m sorry. I’m going to go hit the showers,” I informed him, shifting my gaze and tucking a piece of loose hair behind my ear.

“Hmm, good idea. I’m definitely a bit sweaty,” Henry agreed, chuckling.

I had only just gotten my hair completely wet when my shower curtain was yanked open. I grabbed it to shield myself, but kept my head poking out to see the culprit. “H-Henry?”

“I’m sorry!” He said, only kind of shielding his eyes. “I didn’t realize that this shower was taken.” He only had a towel wrapped around his waist in preparation.

“It’s okay,” I ensured him, a blush creeping across my cheeks for the thousandth time today. “I’d, um, better get back to my shower.”

He nodded his head in agreement and began to walk away. I couldn’t help but keep my gaze on him- the way the muscles in his back flexed made me drool. He had only made it a few feet away before he rapidly turned back around. “Fuck it,” he grumbled, cupping my face in his hand and crashing his lips to mine.

I was so stunned, I didn’t even react for a few seconds. But I quickly conformed my lips to his, allowing him access to slip his tongue into my mouth. A groan emerged from his chest as he backed me up against the shower wall, leaving the curtain shielding my body behind.

He snaked one of his arms around my bare waist, making me realize just how exposed I was. I pressed my chest to his in an attempt to cover myself from the man I hardly knew. He trailed sloppy kisses along my damp jaw, “Is this okay?” He asked, eyes flooded with care locking with mine. I nodded, trying desperately to reattach my lips to his, but he resisted. “(Y/N), I need to hear you say it.”

“Please, Henry. Take me,” I pleaded, tangling my hands into his curls. Without hesitation, he hungrily clung to my lips, searching every available area he could.

He brought one of his hands to my breasts, gently tugging on one of my nipples, hardening it immediately. His touch was easily becoming my new favorite addiction, each caress and rough grip causing a low groan to escape my soft, pleading lips.

“Jump,” he ordered, reaching his large hands to grip around my bum. I hadn’t noticed his towel drop, but when my core collided with his hips, the tip of his throbbing cock rubbed against my clit. I cried out, claws gripping into his shoulders. “Good girl, little one,” he praised, continuing to leave kissing against my neck, gently sucking and nibbling.

His hair was now soaked from the hot stream of the shower. We were lucky we seemed to be the only two in the wash room, but I had a feeling they would be able to hear me from the gym.

“Are you ready?” He asked, lining himself up with my entrance, slowly stroking himself against the entirety of my slit.

All I could do was nod my head, a breathless moan coming from me as he slowly sheathed himself inside of me. A deep grunt came from him as he bit down on my shoulder, trying desperately to control himself while he allowed time for me to adjust. “This is about you, okay? I want to please you. Especially after I’ve already worked your little body so hard today,” he chuckled.

Involuntarily, I bucked my hips to gain some kind of friction, but his grip on my hips tightened and grounded me to the shower wall. His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, a smirk spread on his beautiful face. “I thought I said this was about you? Move again and we’ll sit like this until the water runs cold. Understand?” he patronized, rubbing slow circles into the crevice between my hip and thigh.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, and began his ruthless assault on my body. Looking down, I noticed that he didn’t even completely fit inside of me. With each thrust, he buried himself so fully against my cervix that I couldn’t help the little screams escaping me. But even then, the base of his thick length was still exposed.

“Hold on to my neck,” he instructed in between his own moans. He grabbed underneath my knees, pinning my thighs to the shower wall. He was lucky I was flexible, only then making me realize he must have taken notice during our work out.

With my knees at my shoulders and my feet dangling in the air, he took me. He rammed into me with such strong force I was scared the wall would collapse. He tried and tried to shove as much of himself into me as he could, the most guttural groans leaving his plump lips.

The room was filled with the sound of his balls slapping against my bum, and our sweat moans echoing through the acoustics. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take before I came- my legs were already beginning to shake and I’m sure he could feel my dripping cunt squeezing round him, attempting to milk him for all he was worth.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy, his cock swelling and twitching; but he kept his bliss at bay, desperately wanting to make me cum around him. And I did- just two more hits against my bruised little cervix and I was shaking against him. My head was leaned back against the wall, eyes rolled back and mouth hung agape. With my walls clinging around him, he came. His hot liquid filled me and soothed my raw skin. But before he was done, he pulled out, shooting his delicious cum across my body.

After riding out both of our highs, he scooped me into his arms and slid to the floor. My head rested against his chest, the hairs tickling my nose. “You did so good, little one,” he cooed as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

[babyleostuff]

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🛹] DISCIPLINE: SKATEBOARDING

GENRE: fluff, strangers to lovers(ish), introverted reader, vernon being the greenest flag of them all PAIRING: skateboarder!vernon x athlete!fem reader WARNINGS: explicit language and a couple of sexist comments WORD COUNT: 3.1 k

“not the anti-sex beds again,” katie groaned, like it was the end of the world.   

rolling your eyes, you threw your duffle bags on the bed next to the window. though, as dramatic as she could get sometimes, and as much as you couldn’t wait for the games to begin - you were not looking towards sleeping on the cardboard monstrosities. the amount of massages you had to get four years ago because of them was not something you’d like to go through again.

“it’s not like you’re going to have sex anyway,” sam nudged katie with her shoulder and threw her own stuff on the bed next to yours.

“i’m not talking about myself, stupid,” katie said. “our friend over here,” she put her arms around you and squeezed your shoulders, “needs to get laid. she almost managed to bang that rugby dude the last time, and i can feel it in my bones,” she took a deep breath, ”she’s going to succeed this year.” 

you tried shoving her away, as sam erupted in a loud laugh. 

“hah hah, very funny,” you mumbled, and flicked katie’s forehead. “i’m here to win medals, not to find a hookup.”  

“mhm, sure,” sam said. “we’ll see about that.”

the next morning you stood up with the first rays of sunshine, a lot earlier than most people in the village, with a plan to make the most of your only day off before the eliminations. it’d get crowded quickly, so you figured it’d be nice to soak in the surroundings without hundreds of people bumping into each other. you didn’t bother to wake the girls up - you were eternally grateful you could share this amazing adventure with them, but you needed some time alone. 

besides, there was a 99% probability that sam would skin you alive if you tried cutting her beauty sleep short. 

before leaving the building, you managed, to your delight, to find the gym and the swimming pool, which surely would become really handy in a couple of days. then, you found a small farmacy a couple of blocks away, and a post office where you took a couple of pictures in a photobooth and wrote short letters to your friends at home, before throwing them into the mailbox. 

though the streets were starting to get busier and busier, because well - the athletes, their trainers, the volunteers, staff - everyone wanted to see what this year’s host had to offer, it was still pleasantly peaceful, and you could enjoy your time alone to the fullest. and apart from the cardboard beds, the village was so nice. the purple colours especially. 

just as you turned around the corner of south korea’s apartment complex, you felt and heard your tummy rumble, and thatwas your cue to find the dining hall. fortunately, it didn’t take you long. apart from the big ass signs with “dining hall”written all over them, most people that you passed were walking in one direction, which could only mean one thing.

after a short while, you entered the big room, all purple and pretty, already filled with hundreds of athletes and staff. 

scanning around the huge hall, you tried looking for someone, anyone you knew, but to no avail. most of the tables were already taken, but somehow, to your misfortune, none of them were taken by anyone from your country. you sighed and twisted the pendant hanging around your neck, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you’d be forced to sit at a table with people you did not know. 

there went your peaceful morning. 

without wasting more time, and before you’d completely spiral over the lack of familiar faces, you picked up a plate and cutlery and made your way to the queue for food, standing behind two chinese athletes. 

the line moved slowly, but you didn’t mind. as much as you weren’t particularly overjoyed with the loud noise and chaos, it was nice to do some people-watching. the different races, heights and widths, cultures, languages - all within one building - that had to be one of your favourite things about olympics. 

“isn’t that the chick kyle fucked last time?” suddenly a male voice pulled you out of your thoughts, as if your brain knew that the comment was direct to you. drowning out the noise around you, you tried your best to focus on the people behind you. 

“he didn’t fuck her, she ran away the second he touched her tits,” another guy said. “fucking prude,” he snickered. 

you felt your cheeks heat up - in embarrassment because you were right there, and they knew you could hear them, but also in anger because what they were saying was just not true. 

“i told him to go for the track runner, she had a better ass anyways,” the first guy said, as the other laughed. 

comments like these were nothing new. men like these were nothing new, but it didn’t make the ache in your chest any less painful. worst part was that you’d let them, you wouldn’t stop them - you couldn’t. anytime you tried standing up for yourself you felt at loss for words, your throat closed up, and your mind went blank. 

“excuse me, guys,” a new voice joined in. “the last time i checked this was the olympics, not who has a better ass competition.” 

you didn’t have the nerve to turn around to see who that new voice belonged to. you just clenched and unclenched your fists, trying to control your breathing. 

“also if i may suggest one thing-,” 

“you may not-,” 

“you may want to check out your own ass… or the lack of it,” you could hear the smile in his voice. 

the two guys grumbled something and left the line, but not before one of them bumped into you with too much force for it to be just an accident. muttering a curse under your breath, you massaged your slightly sore arm and prayed to whatever force for the two fuckers not to pass their eliminations. 

“are you okay?” you could feel the guy's breath on your neck. 

fuck, now you had no other choice but to acknowledge what had just happened. if it was up to you, you’d happily skip breakfast and run back to your room. who would’ve thought that the cardboard bed would be the equivalent of a safe haven. 

“uh,” you took a shaky inhale, “i’m okay.” 

“just turn around, smile politely, thank for the help, and move on,” you thought. but as you did that, your eyes went wide, and your breath hitched in your throat. 

you found a set of hazel brown eyes looking at you with curiosity and a tad of softness as if asking a silent question if you were really okay, a kind smile that managed to calm your pounding heart on its own, and cheeks dusted in a light shade of pink as if he had just finished his morning run. the guy couldn’t be much older than you and was the perfect height. you didn’t have to tilt your head in an uncomfortable way to look him in the eye, and he didn’t have to look down at you as if you were a dwarf. 

his dark brown hair was hidden under a beanie, and despite the oversized shirt and shorts, you could make out his lean build, which made him stand out from the other bulky men around. you quickly figured he was part of the us team by his outfit, but you couldn’t rack your brains around what type of sport he could be doing. 

he looked so… laid back compared to everyone around.  

“are you sure?” he asked, his gaze still attentive to you and you only. 

you nodded your head. “sorry you had to listen to that,” you said. 

“i’m sorry you had to listen to that,” the guy muttered. “you know those dudes are total douchebags, right?” annoyance flashed across his face for a second, “people like them shouldn’t even be here and-,”

“it’s okay, really,” you said with a stern voice, cutting him short. grateful - that’s what you were - and it was really nice of him to stand up for you, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that he saw you as nothing more than a weakling that couldn’t even stand up for herself. and that had to be more embarrassing than the comments.  

he must’ve noticed your sour expression, because he quickly said, “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“you didn’t, i… i’m sorry for snapping at you,” god, you really messed this up. this gorgeous boy just saved your ass from getting harassed, and you were acting like an ungrateful bitch. “i’m just not the best at dealing with… whatever that was,” you cleared your throat. “but thank you, it was really kind of you, and you didn’t really have to say anything, but-,” 

“but i would’ve been the biggest asshole if i hadn’t said anything,” he chuckled, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “i couldn’t just let those two fuckers say those things about you. about anyone for that matter. what kind of person would that make me?” 

you nodded, though if you had to be real - you were too distracted by his eyes to focus on what he was saying.

“okay, that sounded so pretentious,” he said, frowning, as if cringing at his own words. you couldn’t help but giggle at his expression. he looked really adorable despite his disgusted look. 

and that didn’t mean anything good. you knew yourself, and you knew how easily it was for you to fall for a person that showed you an ounce of kindness, even if they did it just because they were a good person. and that was probably what was happening now - he saw you getting harassed, he stepped in, said a couple of words, and that would be it. 

but you. you’d think about this for the rest of the olympics. about his teasing voice, the slightly curly hair coming out of his beanie, the fact that you’d never know what kind of athlete he was. the freaking hazel eyes. 

“i’m vernon, by the way,” he, or vernon, extended his hand. 

you cringed at the thought of your sweaty palms, still closed in fists. and it wasn’t like you could wipe them right in front of him. now that would just send you straight into a coma. but you took it anyway, it couldn’t get worse than the comments about your flat ass, you figured. and if he noticed he didn’t say anything, just smiled and nodded when you told him your name. 

“so, do you have any plans for today?” he asked, letting go of your hand way too soon for your liking. 

“i was planning on eating breakfast, but…,” you shrugged. 

“well, i might have an idea then,” he said, a proud smile on his face. “have you ever tried skateboarding?” 

…

you did not think this through. 

trying to skate on a wooden board with four wheels sounded kind of appealing at the moment, but now - now that you were about to actually stand on it? huh yeah, you’d rather stick to keeping your own two feet on the ground.

“it’s not going to kill you, you know?” vernon laughed, as you looked at the board in front of you with pure horror. there was no way anyone could survive skating on that thing, let alone doing tricks and flips or whatever they did with that torture device.  

“just,” he pulled the board closer to you with his foot, “lean your weight on me first and i’m going to hold you, just so you can get comfortable standing on it,” he said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. 

would he think you were a complete loser if you ran away? maybe you could blame it on a sudden stomach bug or something. 

“mhm, yeah,” you breathed, grabbing his extended hand. “easy peasy.” 

luckly for you, the skatepark was still relatively empty since most of the village was trying to fight others in the queue for food, so the chance of you skating into someone by accident was almost non existent. but that did not change the fact that you were on the verge of a panic attack. why did you say yes to this? why did you step out of your comfort zone so easily? comfort zone was good - you loved your comfort zone. that was what kept you safe from agreeing to skateboarding on a whim. 

but it was so easy to say yes when vernon looked at you with so much kindness. you just weren’t able to decline - there was something about him that put you at ease, whether it was his voice or mannerisms - he oozed with so much calmness that even your erratic heart was screaming “say yes!” 

“put your right foot in front of the left one,” he said, still grasping your hand tightly. “and keep your knees bent, it’ll help with keeping your balance.” 

you watched him as he showed you how you were supposed to stand correctly, and tried to mirror his stance the best you could. 

“that’s perfect,” vernon said with a bright smile, as if you just won the gold medal for not falling off the board on the first occasion. “told you you’d do a great job.” 

“this is ridiculous,” you muttered, as your legs wobbled. “i’m looking worse than a baby trying to walk.” 

he rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, making you giggle. “i love your form of self motivation. now,” still holding onto you, vernon walked around the board, “uh, is it okay if i put my hand on your waist?” he asked, and your heart skipped a beat.

usually, you’d immediately say no, but… there was nothing usual about vernon as it turned out. if this was your day of breaking your walls then so be it. you nodded in agreement. “try to put your left foot on the ground and push yourself forward,” he said. 

your thin t-shirt did nothing to conceal the warmth coming from vernon’s hand, but somehow, instead of making you more nervous, it only calmed your wobbling feet and shaking hands, grounding you on the board, making it less scary by the second. you’d never met anyone before who had been so gentle with you, so patient and understanding so quickly. 

“like this?” you took your left foot off the skateboard, but before it could reach the ground you wobbled backwards. “vernon!” you shrieked, ready to fall ass first on the asphalt, but that never happened. your back met his solid chest before you could move more than an inch. 

“‘s okay,” he said, gripping your waist tighter. “i’m right here.” 

you breathed a sigh of relief. “i don’t think this is a good idea,” you looked over your shoulder at him. “what if i break your board?” 

“i have ten others,” he stated as a matter of fact, not bothered at all even if you actually broke his board. “try again, i’ve got you.” 

the next try went a little bit better, at least you managed to put your foot down without bumping into him again.

“okay, now push yourself forward.” 

“just… don’t let go, okay?” 

“i won’t,” vernon said. you could feel him so close to you, his breath creeping down your neck. “i won’t.” 

you never thought you’d feel so accomplished by such a simple thing, you were a gold winning athlete for god’s sake, but when you finally moved, when the board skated forward and you were still standing on it - you felt a flicker of pride settle in your chest.  

“that’s it,” vernon said, giving your hand a squeeze. “you’re doing great. try doing that again.” 

and so you did just that. you pushed yourself forward, again and again, until your feet weren’t wobbling at all, and your moves were getting more confident.

“i’m doing it, i’m…,” you laughed, “vernon, i’m skateboarding,” you said, pushing once more. 

“yes, you are!” 

wait. why was his voice so distant? 

that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel his hand on your waist anymore, nor were your fingers intertwined with his. 

“vernon?” you asked, alarmed. 

“just don’t turn around-,” 

but it was too late. you took a look behind you to see vernon standing a couple of metres behind you, and that was enough to lose all of the balance, all of the control. 

“shit,” you heard him scream, right before you closed your eyes shut, readying yourself for the impact. 

the board flew forward as you slipped backwards, your hands flying to your slides trying to hold onto something. but there was nothing, just air. 

but then - the strong grip, the warm embrace, the hands that you trusted so much - you could feel him all around you. no pain, no broken bones - just vernon. 

“shit, i’m so sorry,” he said, still holding onto you. “i shouldn’t have let you go.” 

gently, he helped you sit on the ground, his eyes scanning all over your body, looking for any injuries. 

“it’s fine, i just panicked,” you said, and put your hand on his shoulder, pulling his gaze back to your eyes. “seriously, it was actually quite fun.” 

at that, vernon’s expression softened a bit, and after a second he even flashed you a smile. 

“that’s good, that’s…,” he exhaled. “that’s a lot for one morning i think.” 

you laughed, and shook your head. “yeah, i think you’re right. but you know,” you looked over at the board that was still rolling on its own. “i think i’ll stick to watching you skate. i don’t think i’m built for this.” 

his body shook with a silent giggle. “i’m still proud of you.”

“thank you,” you said quietly. and you truly meant it - not only for catching you, or trying to teach you how to skate - but for standing up for you when he could just ignore it and move on with his day, for pulling you out of your little safe bubble. that thank you meant a lot of things and you hoped that vernon knew that. 

“were you serious, though?” 

you frowned, not really sure what he ment. 

“that you want to watch me skate?”. 

any other day you’d say no, but… 

“yes. i’d really love to.” 

a beautiful smile bloomed on vernon’s face, and you knew right there and then that the feeling of gratitude was forming into something more than just that. 

“my eliminations are in two days, uh and maybe, only if you want, you could come?” 

you nodded eagerly. at this point you weren’t sure you were able to tell this man no at all. 

and you couldn’t wait to see where that would get you. 

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When grandparents come to visit, Rose gets spoiled silly, and you and Bradley get an opportunity to spend some time alone. You have doubts about your body, but being around your husband makes you feel as good as you hoped it would.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, messing around, DILF Roo

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You were exhausted, and your breasts hurt. There was so much to do, and Rose wanted to eat constantly. Taking a twenty minute shower felt like a luxury, but your husband insisted on it when you started to cry in the kitchen. 

"Do you want some ginger ale?" he asked, tucking Rose into the baby carrier so she would hopefully fall asleep.

"Yeah," you replied, not really sure why you were crying. Bradley patted your butt and told you to go get in the shower, promising to bring the drink in for you.

While the water warmed up, you got undressed and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your body was like a deflated balloon, and you couldn't stop thinking about how weird you looked. Absolutely nothing was as tight as it used to be, and even your face looked unamused and annoyed. And every time you thought about how much you hated the way your body looked now, you got upset with yourself, because you had a beautiful daughter.

"You didn't get in the shower?"

You had you pull yourself out of your daze to meet Bradley's eyes in the mirror. He was holding a plastic cup, and Rose appeared to have finally fallen asleep. "Oh. I will." 

You were almost embarrassed to have him in the bathroom with you as you scrutinized your new bits of cellulite and stretch marks, but he simply wrapped his free arm around you from behind and whispered, "Take your time. I'm going to put Rose in her crib, and then we can watch a movie or snuggle."

Unshed tears burned at your eyes and your throat as he kissed your bare shoulder. He had to go back to work tomorrow. Your parents were arriving tomorrow night. There were so many things happening all at once, and you were overwhelmed even though you barely had to lift a finger with him taking care of so much.

Bradley's breath was warm on your skin as you shivered, naked in the middle of the room. "I love you, Baby Girl. Get in the shower. You'll feel better."

Somehow, he was right. The steamy water pounded against your skin while you sipped your cold ginger ale, and even the sound echoing off the glass and tile was oddly satisfying. You took a few deep breaths with your eyes closed and didn't move for a couple minutes before you reached for the soap.

You didn't even try to put your own clothing on when you finally walked back into your bedroom. Nothing fit, and you didn't want to have to deal with looking at yourself like that in the mirror again, so you pulled on Bradley's old, stretched out gym shorts and one of his shirts. You felt freshly scrubbed and in a much better mood as you walked down the hallway and poked your head inside Rosie's nursery. She was sprawled out on her back in one of her fuzzy sleepers, and you smiled at Tramp curled up in a circle on the rug. He lifted his head to look at you as you turned toward the living room where you could hear the TV on with the volume low.

"Hi," you whispered, and Bradley lifted the blanket so you could join him on the couch. "You got her down okay?"

He wrapped his muscular arm around you. "I did. Eventually. She started crying the first time I set her down, and then Tramp licked her through the crib which made her cry more. This parenting shit is exhausting."

For the first time in a week, you realized just how tired he looked. Bradley made everything seem so easy right now, and you didn't know how you'd manage while he was at work tomorrow. But he looked like he needed a good night's sleep tonight. 

"Want to watch an episode of Real Housewives?" you asked.

He shrugged and tried not to smile. "Only if you want to." It was shamelessly his favorite show, so you queued up an episode and curled up facing his chest. "Aren't you going to watch it, too?" he chuckled, nodding past you to the TV.

You responded by raking your fingers through his hair, and a second later he was yawning. "I'll watch it in a minute," you lied, and he melted into the scalp massage you gave him. Each soft grunt you elicited from him was followed by him closing his eyes for a few seconds, and as soon as you kissed the scars on his cheek, he was sound asleep. Then your fingers went slack in his hair as you yawned.

The two of you got a solid five hours on the couch before Rose started crying for food.

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

"How's the baby? Can I see a picture?"

Bradley sighed quietly to himself and turned to see Javy pulling on a pair of compression shorts next to him. 

"She's great. Gets a little better at sleeping every night," he replied, scrolling through his photo gallery to show him a picture of Rose in her crib. Everyone and their mother seemed to stop him on his way to the locker room, and it was getting to the point where he was going to be late to the tarmac if everyone didn't shut up.

"Damn! She's adorable," Javy said with a laugh. "Kind of makes me want one."

"That's called 'baby fever'," Bradley said, tucking his phone away so he could pull on his flight suit. "Apparently it's a real thing and highly contagious. Want me to put a stop to it for you?"

"Sure," Javy said smoothly, still laughing until Bradley told him the cost of the fancy daycare on base for a month. "Jesus," the other man gasped. "Never mind."

"Exactly," Bradley muttered, finally zipping up his flight suit when Jake strolled in. 

"How's my goddaughter, Rose Bradshaw?" he asked, loud enough that anyone in a three mile radius would have heard.

"Wait, you made Hangman the godfather?" asked Mickey from the other side of the lockers. "Damn. That's pretty wild."

Bradley took a deep breath and said, "I need to get out on the tarmac to talk to Maverick." 

There was something kind of awful about coming back to work after a week off with just you and the baby, and he realized he was in a shitty mood as he took the long way outside to avoid everyone else. He missed Rose, and he missed making lunch for you. He was getting pretty good at smashing up the nasty avocado stuff and globbing it onto a perfectly toasted slice of overpriced bread. He really felt like he should still be there with you just in case you needed something. 

"There you are," Maverick said, pushing his aviators higher on his nose as Bradley hustled through the hangar. "How's little Rose?"

He wanted to tell his godfather that it was bullshit that he had to be at work when he had an adorable nine day old daughter he could be playing with, but he bit his tongue. "She's great. Thanks for the stuffed animals. The goose and the rooster were a nice touch."

Maverick waved him off. "You don't need to thank me for anything. Let's have a conversation as we walk to the tower." Bradley kept up the same pace with him as he said, "I'm going to need you to stay until six today. I'll give you a shot performing a dog fighting exercise with some of the new arrivals, but you'll need to stay and write up your post lesson notes."

Bradley licked his lips. On one hand, he'd been grabbing onto every little crumb that was offered when it came to teaching on base. If he could spend more time working out of North Island and less time on an aircraft carrier, he would be able to avoid some of the long deployments that made having a wife and child at home feel so impossible. On the other hand, he was supposed to pick your parents up from the airport at six. He didn't want to send you and Rose out in rush hour to get them even though he knew nothing could beat the comfort and safety of the red Bronco.

Hopefully he could get to the airport quickly enough that your parents wouldn't even notice he was running late. He cleared his throat nervously. "Sounds good, Mav. I'll stay until six."

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

By dinnertime, you were in tears. Rose was already crying again. You just finished feeding her. You were trying to figure out how to use the breast pump, but now it was in pieces on the kitchen island. You couldn't even manage to put ten minutes together to make it work properly. Your body looked scary, you forgot to eat lunch, your entire face was breaking out, and now Rose was wailing.

If you couldn't even make it through one day alone with her, how the fuck were you supposed to even be a mom?

"I'm coming," you called out, almost tripping over Tramp on your way back to the nursery. Your breasts were aching, and as soon as she latched on, you couldn't tell if they felt better or worse. You couldn't tell anything. You hadn't slept for more than five consecutive hours in over a week, because Rose was always hungry.

"Please take a nap after this," you whispered. "I need a nap, too." Truthfully, you wanted your parents here just as much as you wanted Bradley. Rose spit up on the kitchen floor earlier, and you kept forgetting to clean it up between her feeding frenzies. You could probably get your dad to do that. And you needed more panty liners from the story which your mom could probably handle. And you needed your husband to make you avocado toast before you withered away into oblivion. 

"We're here!" Bradley called out through the house as you finished changing a wet diaper. You quickly yanked your dirty tank top back over your head, and as soon as you walked out into the living room, you started crying.

And so did your parents as they crowded around you, kissing your cheeks and looking at the baby in your arms.

"It was one thing seeing her over facetime," your mom sobbed, "but she's even more precious in person."

"Hi, Rose. I'm your grandpa," you dad whispered as the baby yawned. "I think she kind of looks like me."

You laughed as you cried, relief flooding through your body as your mom scooped Rose up into her arms, and then Bradley was at your side, kissing your forehead. 

"Did my pretty girls have a good day?" he asked, stroking your cheek with his thumb and smiling at you as if you looked like a fairy princess rather than an unfed, exhausted rat. 

He smelled a bit like jet fuel, and for some reason he was still wearing his flight suit even though he knew you couldn't have sex with him. "It was just really hard," you whispered, looking up at him like you needed him to understand without you having to explain it to him.

Bradley glanced around at the pump parts in the kitchen and the spit up on the floor. He held you a little tighter as he nodded. "It was really hard for me, too. I just wanted to be here to try to make your day easier." Now you were crying in earnest as your mom and dad continued to make a fuss over the baby, but Bradley was already walking you backwards toward the hallway. "I'm sure the grandparents can hold down the fort while we take a little break?"

"Absolutely," your mom replied, kissing Rose's feet while your dad held her. "Take your time."

As soon as you were in the quiet solace of your bedroom, Bradley bent to remove his boots, and then he unzipped his flight suit and left it in a heap on the floor. "I think I'd feel better if we got in bed for a few minutes." You nodded in agreement, climbing into the unmade bed, and a second later, you were wrapped up in his arms under the covers. He sighed as you curled up against his chest. "Yeah. This is what I needed."

It was like night and day for you. As soon as you were with him, everything felt better. More manageable. Like you could handle all of it. Bradley pressed his lips to your temple as you whispered, "I've been waiting for this moment all day."

"God, I fucking love you, Baby Girl."

You laughed in response, but you weren't joking. "I'm so serious, Roo. I was overwhelmed, and I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. And Rose is just hungry all day and all night, and I can barely keep up."

His big hand slid up and down your arm, soothing away your stress as he murmured, "Well, you make it look easy, Sweetheart. Best mom in the world. As soon as I get my fill of you, I'll make you dinner."

You let his words sink in as you got your breathing under control. Then you finally lifted your head from his chest and kissed him. "I think I'll be okay."

Bradley sat up with you in his lap. "Let's eat something, and then we can feed Rose and get right back in bed. I'll bet I can get your dad to walk Tramp."

The two of you had only been in your bedroom for about twenty minutes, but when you walked back out into the kitchen, it was like a miracle had occurred. There was no mess on the floor. The breast pump appeared as though it had been set up correctly. Your dad was walking back inside with Tramp, already having completed a walk, and your mom was rocking Rose in her arms in the kitchen with four plates of dinner lined up on the counter.

"I hope sandwiches are okay," she said when she spotted you and Bradley. "Just something simple tonight. Tomorrow I'll make spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread."

You took Rose from her and handed the baby to Bradley before throwing your arms around your mom's neck. "Thank you," you whispered, voice shaking with an emotion that wasn't unpleasant. "All of this is really overwhelming."

"We're here to help make it easier. Eat your sandwich."

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

Having your parents stay for the week seemed to make all the difference in the world. They knew how to handle seemingly everything. When you winced after feeding Rose, your mom mentioned getting some ointment. She made a shopping list and ran to the store, and she even brought back the correct type of coffee. And your dad didn't seem to mind sitting in the nursery in the middle of the night, burping and rocking Rose after you finished feeding her so you could go right back to bed.

In fact, every single thing they did, they did with a smile on their face. They were absolutely loving this. And every so often, Bradley felt a pang of sadness associated with something he would never get to experience.

He was thankful for his in-laws, but he would give anything right now to get to experience his own mom and dad having a visit with Rose. It hurt too much to think about it for more than a few seconds here and there, so he forced himself not to. But you always seemed to have a way of honoring them even when he couldn't come up with one himself, and he was so thankful that you did. When he walked in from work on Wednesday, you were sitting at the kitchen island, pumping your breast milk and typing on your computer.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Where's the Nugget?" Bradley asked as you tipped your head to the side to let him kiss your neck.

"She's outside with my mom," you replied easily. "And my dad is taking a nap upstairs since he was up so much last night."

He hummed as he saw your mom walk across the back patio with Rose in her arms and Tramp following behind them. "What are you working on?"

You sounded calm and relaxed as you said, "Finally getting the hang of the pump. The ointment my mom got is helping so much, and I'm trying to store some of my milk in the fridge to make things easier. Oh, and I'm sending baby pictures to Brenda and the other cousins." 

You turned and kissed him over your shoulder as he looked at your computer screen. There was an adorable collage of photos of Rose as well as a family tree graphic that you made. It had everyone's name on it, including Nick and Carole Bradshaw, with the branches all leading to Rose's name in the middle.

"That's really pretty," he whispered, getting choked up.

"I thought so, too," you said, reaching for his hand. "Maybe we can get a copy printed and hang it by the piano?"

"Yeah. We should do that," he grunted, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. "I'll be back after I say hi to Rosie."

When he walked outside, your mom was telling a very elaborate rendition of the Three Little Pigs to his daughter while she yawned like she was going to fall asleep. "Want me to put her in the nursery so you can take a break?" he asked quietly.

"I've got her," she replied, nodding back toward the house. "Why don't you take your wife out for a few hours? She's been pumping all day, so I can just give this little one a bottle if she gets hungry after her nap."

"Oh," Bradley grunted. It was Wednesday. This used to be Hard Deck night for the two of you. Nobody would expect it, and it might even be fun. "Yeah. Okay." He kissed the top of Rose's head and went back inside, taking you by the hand as you sent the photos and the family tree off in an email.

"What are you doing?" you asked as he led you toward the bedroom. "You want to snuggle?"

"Yes. Always. But right now, we're going out for a few hours."

"Where?"

Bradley smirked. "It's Wednesday."

You gave him a confused look that melted away immediately. "The Hard Deck?"

"Of course."

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

The idea of getting out of the house took over your brain and made you feel lighter than air, but the prospect of having to wear real clothes was upsetting to say the least. You knew your jeans wouldn't fit, and just thinking about the tight waistband against your belly made you cringe. You watched Bradley change into the tropical print shirt you got him for Christmas, the one that matched Rosie's, and he looked impossibly handsome.

"I'll be ready to leave when you are," he promised, kissing your cheek as he tucked his wallet into his jeans pocket. "Just let me know, okay?"

Then he rushed from the room, leaving you alone with an entire wardrobe of clothing that made you want to scream. After looking at nearly everything you owned, you settled on black leggings that were a little too big on you before you got pregnant and your oversized red sweater. You carefully got dressed, scared to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, but you needed to put on some makeup.

The finished product wasn't too bad. You looked tired, but so did Bradley. Your outfit mostly hid your weird shape, and you were absolutely craving a beer right now. After this week, you were going to owe your parents big time, but when you went out to the living room, they appeared to be absolutely thriving.

Your dad had a rattle and a crinkle toy in his hands, and Rose was reaching for them while your mom held her. Every time the baby moved an inch, they cheered. You had to stifle your laughter as Bradley came in through the front door with a small bundle of flowers.

"Where did you get those?" you asked him as you leaned down to give Rose a kiss on her cheek.

"From the neighbor's shrub." When you gave him a concerned look, he added, "I asked first! I wanted you to have flowers for date night. I'm pretty sure it's important to keep the magic alive after you have a kid."

The Hard Deck and flowers from a shrub seemed kind of ridiculous for a date, but he was always so sincere. "Thanks, Roo. This is perfect."

He smiled as you put the flowers in the kitchen, and your mom said, "Get a move on, you two. We have everything under control."

You and Bradley were speed walking out to the blue Bronco when you said, "It's like I'm in high school again. I have to get permission from my parents to go out for the night."

Bradley's laughter put an enormous smile on your face as he buckled you in the front seat. He ran his thumb along your cheek and whispered, "You look beautiful," before closing the door. His words left your heart racing, because you knew he meant them. When he backed out of the driveway, he said, "We should stop for pizza on the way there."

It felt like a date early on in your relationship. Sitting in a booth together, constantly holding hands, legs intertwined under the table. Neither of you could stop smiling or laughing, and Bradley still had no shame when it came to inhaling slice after slice of pizza. The best part was when he pulled a bottle of the hot sauce you made in Mexico out of his pocket and set it on the table.

"Oh my goodness!" you gasped, carefully covering your slice in it so you didn't actually waste any. "You win husband of the year, once again."

"I wonder if Rose will like hot sauce," he mused before folding up a slice and eating it in three bites. 

"She better," you replied, moaning in delight. "If she knows what's good for her."

Bradley devoured the last slice when you pushed it toward him. "Let's go fuck up the Hard Deck, Sweetheart."

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

"Mom and Dad are here!"

Bradley groaned when Natasha announced his arrival to everyone in the bar, but you just laughed and snuggled against his side when he slung his arm over your shoulders. Within seconds, the two of you were stopped in your tracks as the usual crowd and a few others came over to offer congratulations and say hello. And a few minutes after that, both of you were holding two drinks.

"Where's my goddaughter?" Jake called over the music, and Bradley pursed his lips.

"She's our designated driver," he replied. "She's waiting in the Bronco."

The aviators laughed as you shook your head and said, "My parents are visiting for the week. They insisted we go out and have a good time."

"So you came to the Hard Deck?" Reuben asked, leaning in to give you a hug. "Rooster, take your wife and the mother of your child somewhere nicer next time."

You were laughing as hard as everyone else now, as Bradley groaned and looked at the ceiling. "I used to like it here," he said as Nat pulled both of you in for a bear hug.

And that was when the two of you were saved from being the center of attention by an even more exciting arrival.

"He's back!"

Bradley turned in time to see Bob walking in, holding Maria's hand. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his glasses were a little crooked, and Bradley could tell instantly why they were just getting to the bar now even if the aircraft carrier docked this afternoon. At least they hadn't broken up over the deployment. 

Maria shook her hand free and made a beeline toward you. "Oh my god, I can't believe you're here! When can I come see the baby?"

"Any time," you replied. "I'll be home for weeks."

She kissed your cheek before giving Bradley a quick hug, too. "I'll bring Cam with me one night. And you should come to brunch this weekend or next weekend. You can bring Rose!"

Bradley cringed a bit at the idea of his tiny daughter being around a bunch of loud, germy strangers in a restaurant. "Or... she can just stay at home with me while you enjoy yourselves," he told you and Maria.

"Sure, Roo," you replied, stroking your fingers along his cheek. "Yeah, I'll make sure I get to brunch one of these weekends."

Bradley watched you converse with Maria, and then the two of you talked to a very overwhelmed looking Bob who also asked about the baby. And Bradley swore you only sipped at your beers, but you were starting to look a little tipsy.

"You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked, trying not to laugh as you danced around completely off the beat of the music playing on the jukebox.

"Yeah," you told him, smiling over your shoulder. You were so fucking adorable, it was unbelievable. "But my boobs are starting to get uncomfy. I'm going to need some relief soon." You turned to face him as you ran your hands along your chest, and even with that sweater on, his imagination took over.

His cock was already reporting for duty as he rasped, "You want me to take you home so Rose can nurse and make you feel better?"

You kind of shrugged in response as you took a step closer to him, still touching yourself. "Well, I've been drinking alcohol, so if we go home, I'll have to pump instead and then dump it down the drain."

"Fuck," Bradley groaned as you reached for his hand and brought it up to your chest in the middle of the Hard Deck. "I don't think you should be wasting that."

You smiled and asked, "Back seat of the Bronco then?" 

When he just nodded at you like an idiot, you hooked your index finger through one of his belt loops and dragged him around, erection and all, to say goodbye to everyone. His jeans were not his friend at the moment. Not with the prospect of your tits leaking milk filling his mind. Once you had him outside, your lips were all over his.

"You make everything so much better, Bradley," you whispered against his mouth as your fingers tangled in his hair. "Literally everything."

"I love you so much. Fuck," he moaned as you cupped him through his jeans. Someone else was exiting the bar now, but he didn't have the wherewithal to tell you to stop. He didn't want you to stop. "Come on, Baby Girl," he said, ushering you to the promised solitude of the backseat.

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

You were so horny. You couldn't even fathom what was going on with your hormones that you were mostly in tears on Monday and desperate for an orgasm tonight. Straddling Bradley's lap in the back of the Bronco was nothing new for you, but you were a little concerned about the way your body looked. 

"Holy fucking hell, you're so hot," he groaned, inching your sweater up and pulling it over your head. He was looking at you like you were a million dollar lottery prize with your stretched out belly and your nursing bra. He ran his hands up your hips to your waist, and he looked you in the eye as he said, "You're stunning."

Okay. Well, he could have anything he wanted. You unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor as you ground yourself against his erection. He hissed in response before bringing his hands up to your tits and giving them a little squeeze. You were already leaking milk, and Bradley was whimpering softly as he dragged his nose along the curve of one breast and then the other before tasting you.

"Roo," you gasped. His lips and mustache were needy and rough, and you couldn't stop yourself from rubbing your pussy against him. He looked up at you as he sucked on your nipple, and you played with his hair as you asked, "Do you like this?" He nodded before teasing you with his tongue and sucking more of your breast into his mouth. "I'm so horny," you moaned.

He released you. "I want to fuck the absolute shit out of you right now. Do you have any idea?" He started kissing your other nipple as he guided your hips so you were flush against the fly of his jeans. "I want you to get yourself off, Baby Girl," he rasped. "I know you can do it."

You had no shame, head tossed back, whining his name as he wrapped his perfect lips around your other nipple and helped himself. You could feel the outline of the head of his cock through his jeans. He was hard. So hard. And he felt good against your clit. You had to be soaking through your cotton underwear and leggings, but he kept guiding your hips closer and closer.

"Do it," he coaxed softly, running his mustache along your nipple.

You were about to tell him that your body felt so different, you weren't even sure if you'd be able to get off or if it would even feel good. But the words froze in your throat as Bradley parted his lips to taste you again, and you felt yourself gush into his mouth.

"Oh my god," you whispered, maybe a little embarrassed that you had no control over your own body. His eyes went wide as he lapped up your breast milk, and you arched your back as you came on his cock through his jeans, grabbing his hair and the Bronco ceiling for control. You were shaking all over, keening loudly, convinced someone in the parking lot must have heard you by now. You didn't even care. This orgasm was insanely good, and it kept going as you panted and squirmed.

Your breasts were damp to the night air, and you knew it had to be some combination of your milk and Bradley's saliva cooling on your skin as you shivered against his body. His arms were wrapped around you as you rocked slowly before finally coming to a stop.

"Feel good?" he asked between little kisses to your chest.

"Incredible," you moaned. "Holy shit, Roo."

"Yeah," he agreed breathlessly. "Me too."

You noticed he wasn't as hard now, and you took his chin in your palm, guiding his gaze to meet yours. "Did you cum?"

"In my jeans," he confirmed with a nod. "I can't handle how fucking perfect you are." You felt powerful as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. "You literally made me cum in my pants, Sweetheart."

You gave him a soft kiss. "And you didn't even break the center console."

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

BG is definitely struggling a little bit with her postpartum body. Roo is struggling in a different way. There's a lot on the horizon, including angst, but if there's something you'd love to read about this family, let me know! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 19

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[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Sniffle any louder

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - when you show up to work il lit aggravates Natasha that is until she sees your dire state

Warnings - mention of illness, nonsexual nudity, hurt comfort, as usual not proofread

Word count - 2k

A/n - I started rushing at the end because I wanted to have it out by tonight so the ending might not be as good srry

Fractures of pain shot through your aching body like icicles as you left the team meeting. God how you wished you'd just admitted you were ill this morning instead of letting your pride get in the way and pretended to the team that you were right as rain. I guess that's what happens when your on a team with literal super soldiers, you too start believing your above any illness or injury. Oh, but how wrong you realised you were when this flu hit you like a ton of bricks. The combined migraine alongside with the distrsssing chill of your bones left little energy left for you to do anything except lie down and rest, which you hated to admit and wouldn't ever given the choice, despite how sickly you'd begun to look.

Your usual bright eyes full of life and wonder became dull and bloodshot from the lack of sleep your blocked nose had caused you the previous night when you chose to ignore it. The skin on your face that was often painted a rosy colour now paled almost deathly looking, comparable to that of a ghost. Your unshakable senses, often remarked as some of the best had become overworked and dulled from the sickness using up all your remaining energy causing you not to notice people around you until they had begun to speak. The gravelly gasping and choking noises that spluttered from your inflamed throat were foreign to your usual bubbly voice.

Despite these stark and clear changes in not only your physical appearance but also how you carried yourself around the compound you had tricked yourself, somehow, into the belief no one around you would notice. Obviously you were unwell anyone could see that from a mile off and if you didn't think out of a house full of spies, enhanced beings and military personnel that not one of them would pick up on something up with you then you must have been seriously down with something.

Unlucky for you someone did notice after your sniffling had interupted their train of thought for the seventh time, it didn't take a genuis but she'd been ignoring the signs since you arrived. Natasha Romanoff had been trying to reread and correct a badly written mission report written by an incompetent intern. This had already been stressful enough for her without the woman next to her trying to desperately through her blocked nose instead of just going home. The first time she actually noticed something was up was when you nearly walked into the door, stumbling around like bambi on ice. This was something someone with your spacial awareness and high senses would never manage to do if they were as okay as they were telling everyone they were. She spotted it again when you began to cough like a smoker and at that like someone who smoked at least five packs a day, a thing she knew you were not. You'd told her a while back that despite your bad habits which were endless and definitely on show today that you never wanted to smoke because it reminded you of your mother. So unless you'd switched up on that which she very much doubted and had taken up chain smoking the answer was clear; you were ill, very ill.

She also questioned why you were even here, how you were even here. Natasha would leap at the first chance to avoid these dull meetings even if it meant admitting illness to the rest of the group. She'd actually faked being ill before to skip debriefs and instead head to the gym. At one point she had no clue how you were even still able to be alive and functioning with how shallow your breaths were. Everytime your mouth opened a disgusting noise alike to the disgust she felt at nails on a chalk board rung from deep in your throat. Aswell your ever scratcher voice that was beginning to drive her insane. It was one thing to come in sick, it was another to make yourself more ill by working harder than usual.

This had made her angry more than anything, angry at your selflessness. Angry no one else would ever do this, including herself. Angry you put working above your own physical health. Angry that you'd risk everyone else getting ill instead of taking a sick day. Angry you couldnt just admit your illness and leave.

Your eighth sniffle really sent Natasha over the edge as she turned to look dead at you and gave you a menacingly dirty look. A scowl that could kill glowering into your soul. Yet in feverly state you could hardly even register the spy looking in your direction as you still tried to process something said in conversation several minutes ago. Throughout the rest of the meeting she sideyed, scowled, gritted teeth, frowned, muttered under breath and cursed in your direction much to you ignorance. On an average day you could recognise what emotion someone was going through just by being in the same room as them and the tone of their breath but right now even with Natasha directly next you, practically right in your face you couldn't pick up a single negative emotion.

After the meeting you quickly stumbled in the direction of your room, hoping to avoid anyone on the way there, which you managed with much ease despite your worsening condition. Once you reached your room you shut the door without bothering with the lock. Stripped to your underwear and crawled back into bed without a sound. Curling up under your soft thick duvets you shivered and slowly cried yourself into a feverish slumber.

Natasha stayed behind to finish her reports, which she easily could have done hours ago without your incessant coughing and sniffling and all round ill noises. It only infuriated her more as she worked quickly, alone and welcoming the silence since the end of the meeting. When she finished up the work she was just about ready to give you a piece of her mind. And thats what she was gonna do. She had strong feelings about you prioritisation of work over wellness and she was gonna share them with you whether you wanted to hear or not.

Easily, she threw open your door and it hit the wall with a bang, enraged she didnt notice your crumpled whimpering figure writhing under the duvet.

"Sniffle a little louder next meeting." She comments loudly and sarcastically before instantly wincing at the sight of you in the bed.

Instantly her whole demeanour changes into one of care and pure unhidden worry. Natasha crouched over your trembling figure on the bed. Quickly she removed the pile of blankets from overtop and pressed a palm to your forhead before just as swiftly pulling it away with a frown. You were boiling 38°c at the very least and yet your body was still shivering. Without thinking twice Natasha knew the best thing for you was a cold, very cold shower.

She carried your somehow still sleeping figure easily into the bathroom as if you were no more than a light weight to her, which you probably were considering her max dead lift. Gently and ever so carefully she sat you down in the bath before turning the cool shower on next to you. Adjusting it so the water pressure was lower than usual so that it maybe less of a shock for when you fully woke.

Soon after the water began to flow your eyes opened to the hazy view before you. Natasha knelt over the bath making sure you were just alright. When you noticed the water and the bath, definitely not where you fall asleep you began to panic. Quickly flailing much like a fish out of water. Thrashing to get out the bath and attempting to scrabble to your feet. Natasha noticed your sudden frenzy and much quicker than you could, grabbed a hold of your hands halting your movements while whispering affirming words to you.

"Shh sh its okay. Your just in the bath, don't worry were just trying to soothe your fever." She begins to rub your palms slowly in a way which soothes you and instantly slows your panic as you go to rest your head on the bathroom wall.

"Hm don't do that darling. Try and stay awake while your in the bath, just for now." She's says quietly afraid to worsen the headache you already had as she coaxes your head off the wall. "That's it good girl. You can do this."

Her small praises would have usually annoyed you and felt almost condescending but right now they were almost enough to make you smile. She was making you feel as if your feeble attempts to stay conscious were really doing anything.

"M' so tired." You mumbled out a response that slumped together into your mouth so it was barely understandable to Natasha yet she still smiled and nodded at you, not wanting you to feel any worse than you already did.

"That's okay sweet girl, the sooner we get you out the bath and some medicine down you the sooner you can sleep." All the while she kept rubbing at your hands and fingers to keep you grounded in the moment. "I'm going to find you some fresh clothes just stay here."

You nodded but the minute Natasha left your head flopped back against the wall as if magnetised towards it. Upon her return with fresh clothes Natasha tutted.

"You really aren't well, are you?" A small attempt at a nod on your part did not surprise her one bit. "See if you told someone earlier we wouldn't be here right now. You have to ask for help when you need it." She knew her words meant little to you in your current state but she wanted to start bedding them in now nonetheless.

"Now, do you need help getting dressed? There's no shame in needing the help."

"Uhm.. I think a bit." Your response was croaky and your voice was beginning to sound worse by the second.

"That's okay, I'll help you then." She gives you a hand getting out the bath and holds you upright as she helps fully undress you. In her panic to get you in the bath she hadn't thought to remove what you were wearing.

You weren't insecure about your body but something like this would usually not be on with you. But right now you knew you couldn't refuse the help Natasha was offering as you could barely even stand still yourself. So begrudgingly you allowed her to undo your bra and slip off your underwear before tossing them in the bath saying something about getting them to the wash later. Putting on the fresh clothes was easier than either of you anticipated as you didn't resist and her strength helped you from falling against the cold tile floor.

Natasha helped you hobble back towards your bed which you instantly fell against ready to embrace sleep again.

"Ah. Not so quick, first the medicine then sleep." She said softly handing you first a couple pills and some water. "For your headache." Begrudgingly you took them and Natasha smiled as she saw the look of grimace on your face finding it both amusing and adorable. "Okay sweet girl just the syrup left, this will help for your throat." You stared at the syrup in your hand with a frown. Just the smell of its contents was enough to make you dry heave and its colour wasn't tempting either. After two minutes of more convincing and praise you managed to stomach it, not all of it but enough so Natasha was happy enough to stop bothering you.

You knew after that you could finally emmerse yourself in a blissful slumber and with little care curled up, face pressing into Natasha who watched over you as you slept making sure nothing interupted your much needed rest.

Tags: @wandasfifthwife @yanaromanov @idkwhatever580 @stayevildarling

[takes1]

p. 4 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

thank you so much @v15aexe for giving me that suggestion! i tried my best to honor it and make it feel as organic as possible! and thanks to everyone who's supported this little series :) next part should be heavy nsfw. lmk if ya'll want any other series/characters in my requests

warnings. sfw somehow again idk how this keeps happening to me. minors DNI

details. sfw? / build-up to nsfw / PDA / during: training camp arc / first kiss / jealous!tsukki / stupidshima / needyshima / suggestive petting / kuroo rizz / hand holding / unspoken feelings / communication / obsessed tanaka/nishinoya / 2k words

🤍 kei series. part one / part two / part three / final part / reply and get added to the taglist to get notifs for the last part!

more links. my ao3, my other stuff. request box. haikyuu collection

Tsukishima couldn't believe that it was so dark outside when he left the gym. This training camp would be the death of him.

Dreary and a bit dehydrated, he stepped to the doorway and looked at the surrounding gym-trailers, envious of all the ones that were dark and unoccupied.

His eyes naturally landed on one that was still in-use, though.

Kuroo, who had left early for unspecified reasons, was chatting you up with an unmistakable rizz charisma at the entrance.

You (the now-specified reason) looked downright delighted to be talking to him.

Tsukishima bit the inside of his cheek, heart racing, and barely noticed Bokuto's heavy shoulder slap on the way out of their gym.

"Yeah," He gave a half-cocked, hardly engaged smile and it fell right away.

Bokuto looked over his shoulder for a moment with a confused look- he said nothing to warrant a 'yeah,' but the thousand-yard stare across the kid's face was enough for even him to understand it was out of his paygrade to pry. He continued walking back to his own lodging, quickly becoming absentminded once more.

His immediate reaction at this discomfort was to roll his eyes, put his shoes on, and step out onto the concrete, facing the way back.

Your sweet laugh rang in his ears as he did this.

He looked back, and the older, better in now every way version of himself was brimming with pride that you found him funny.

His dignity couldn't take another beating today. He'd never be able to look you in the eye if he let this one go.

A newfound swiftness in his legs carried him three trailers down to where the light was pouring out into the dark night, blocked only by now: three shadows.

"-that was real sexy-- U-hum, admirable when you told your team off like that today," His fake 'slip-up' had you blushing from ear to ear, hands folded neatly in front of you.

The sly way he lowered his voice to just above a mutter was reminiscent of pillow-talk. He was undeniably smooth and radiated confidence. Even the successfully casual manner in which he leaned against the doorway to both get closer to you and to come across as more conversational.

You corrected him, pushing down his hand; he was about move some of your hair, so you moved it yourself.

You were keeping a polite distance both physically and verbally, "If this is your way of getting intel, you'd be barking up the wrong tree."

Unfazed, he took your hand in his effortlessly, "The only intel I need is your number."

When you took a breath to deny him that for the fourth time, you jumped at Tsukishima's haunted appearance just coming into the light.

Kuroo looked back and nearly jumped out of his skin with an uncool yelp- he quickly covered it with a, "Fuck--! Four-Eyes! You scared the absolute shit out of me."

He caught his breath, holding his chest, "You look like a damn ghost."

You laughed, sharing an entertained glance with Tsukishima, but saw that he was much less delighted to be standing there.

He crafted something on the spot, monotone and sounding just as disinterested as usual, "Coach needs you back at the dorm. It's getting late."

"Oh," You threw a look back to Hinata and Kageyama, who were still practicing, "I was just making sure these two got back in one piece. And- at a decent... time."

You checked your watch and realized it wasn't exactly a decent time anymore.

As you called out to the two still inside, Tsukishima and Kuroo stood in front of each other and crossed their arms with identical scowls.

Kuroo knew that face well. He'd seen it many times with other guys. The 'Go Away, Stop Talking to Her' stare. But he'd place good money on the fact that Tsukishima didn't even know it was a thing.

Even though he was just a freshman, and even though you were too damn good-looking to be Karasuno's manager, and even though he scared him- he took pity on him.

So he let up, but not without one last punch.

"I hope Bokuto grilled you enough while I was gone," He smirked, "You'll need to step it up for tomorrow's match, Tsukki."

There was a slight drop from the gym to the concrete. Tsukishima held his hand out for you to hop down with, and with a look he didn't return, you decided to take it and fixed your shoes.

"I plan to."

You felt a chill between them and had zero desire to intervene. Kuroo seemed to give a subtle, proud smile.

"Good."

The walk back was dead silent. It was slowly suffocating you, nagging at you like flies to just say something about what happened between you.

The pace wasn't fast, but it wasn't slow. And the accommodated lodging wasn't too far off from the lined-up gyms, so you both felt the opportunity growing smaller and smaller.

"It's nice seeing you stay for solo practice."

He said nothing.

"And- you've been getting better."

He scoffed, "Tell me that when we're not hitting penalty sprints after every match."

You smiled. It was quiet again.

"I will."

He looked down at you, brows raised, softer now. He realized how mean he sounded and couldn't take it back. There were a lot of things he couldn't take back.

That feeling helped him not shut down your candid question.

"So, what was that? Back there?"

His response was careful and slow. You were waiting on your toes for each following word.

"I guess-... I'm- surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"That you'd-- entertain that. You're not the type."

"You should be more careful putting girls in boxes, Tsukki-" The nickname just slipped out. You felt your face get warmer.

He stayed silent, though. You couldn't read him no matter how hard you tried.

You continued, treading lightly, "I... I don't know, it is nice being fawned over. It's flattering, at least."

The "Yeah," he choked out sounded like he'd gotten stabbed through the middle with a serrated knife- and you just twisted it.

"Much easier than having to deal with some jackass that doesn't know how to talk to me."

A surprised half-laugh, half-scoff left his lips at your brash comment.

"Really." He rolled his eyes, heart sinking, and regretting just about every moment between you. Especially that out-of-body shit he pulled back there.

"But," You leaned to look at him and found it nearly impossible.

He was staring at the sky. He really did look in pain.

"I wouldn't say I prefer it," A smile crept over your lips, a small laugh at how absurd your own words sounded, "It's not interesting enough."

His Adam's apple bobbed and his jaw worked. He was already at rock-bottom, so there was nothing to hide.

Another sigh-laced response, "What... would you prefer?"

The shared dormitories were approaching closer. You began to mosey, your footfalls with more time between them, smaller distance, in the hopes that you could steal more time alone. It was such a warm night and you were craving to get under a fan, but sweating out in this muggy, paved path had steady-growing appeal.

"Tall," You started to list, struggling to keep a nervous, yet amused grin down, "Blond,"

He finally looked down at you.

His eyes were glossy under his glasses. There was no such smile on his face, but his chest rose and fell faster.

"Intelligent, but-," You stopped and he followed your lead without a moment's hesitation. The pause felt right because now, the street light next to your housing was setting between you in a warm, flickering glow, "Somehow incredibly stupid."

An unfiltered laugh broke his melancholic silence and it was the most beautiful sound you could've asked for.

"Mean," You felt inclined to include through his bout of relieved laughter, "But- secretly really thoughtful, and sweet. And a really cute laugh."

You giggled with him, giddy and incredibly apprehensive as you took his hand. He laced his fingers through yours and your tummy started to dance with a billion butterflies.

Another tentative, gentle hand found its rightful place on your waist.

"I'm sorry," He muttered, "About... everything."

Crystal clear feelings of guilt flashed across his face, despite holding you, your admission, and his reparations today. His insecurities really did manage to worm their way back in.

"I thought it was pretty clear that I forgave you," You grinned, squinting up at him, "But since you're so stupid-,"

He smiled and looked away, shy.

"I guess I have to tell you directly that," You grabbed his chin to force him look at you, "I forgive you."

Those eyes were beyond complex. His charged, but needy stare sent a shiver down your spine and made your knees so weak that you were appreciative he pulled you closer to his chest.

You knew he didn't know how to kiss.

So you made the first move- a soft hand to the side of his face to guide him down, and a gentle, barely-there, slow peck. He started to kiss back, but it was over before he got the proper chance to try.

"One more," He breathed, the tiniest smirk covering a bottomless desire for you.

He could hardly form a kiss through his smiling, you weren't sure if he was really even trying on the second time he asked for another.

You leaned up for a third, hand at last unlacing from his, and slid to the base of his neck for a subtle pull for control. A deeper, much better kiss ensued as the result of this direction.

That unsure hand on your waist gripped harder with growing certainty- his thumb wrapped forward around your hip and squeezed, sending a shock throughout your body that left you tugging at the roots of his hair.

"Mmn," You buzzed against him and, a bit breathless, sucked a small, red spot to his jaw when you couldn't keep kissing him anymore.

"Ye-ah-" You seethed, brow knotted, "We can't do this here."

He was panting at the loss of your touch and your pretty voice. He nodded dumbly but didn't move.

You carefully guided his hand off of yours, holding it for a moment, and smiled at his dazed expression for all it was worth.

Your timing couldn't have been better. Just as you climbed the first steps to get into the building, Tanaka burst through the door in a fury.

"(Y/N)!! Where were you?! I'vebeenworriedsick!" He cried, only just barely drowning out the rapid, thundering of footsteps (interrupted only briefly with a crash and resulting shout) from your other personal fan, Nishinoya, who burst through the door in an identical fashion-- "Thank GOD!"

They both collapsed against you, not even giving you the chance to register their incessant noise.

"Jesus," You wheezed at the absurd weight of them both.

Tsukishima went completely unseen for the second time that night.

"Get off, both of you!" Daichi's disembodied, reprimanding voice called from upstairs. He certainly couldn't see them, so he must've just known.

With great, exaggerated labor, they did as told, but didn't drop the subject.

"You've never been out so late before!" Nishinoya exclaimed, taking both of your hands in his with big, dinner-plate eyes. It was only 9:30.

"Well, you have Tsukki to thank for getting me back safely," You joked, much quieter than them, heart light on the heels of a good kiss and in the company of good friends.

They looked around before spotting him, generating an amused smile on your face, and shook both of his hands at the same time, thanking him many times for his service.

"He saved me from Kuroo," You added with a playful glance back to Tsukishima, now free to walk in with them out of the way.

Now he was the one bombarded with questions as you slipped your shoes off in the doorway.

taglist:

this has been so nice writing! thank ya'll for the support! drop any suggestions for other characters or series you'd want to see in my requests!

@hotvinimon @cyzvx @aloveablechaos @kozumesphone

@beaniedoodz @idiotboys @djmoyolehuani @ilovemymomscooking

@imiqz @vierciale

[woso-dreamzzz]

Video II

Meadema x Baby!Reader

Summary: Munchkin vs ACLs

The first week with you is perfect.

You're a fairly well-behaved baby. You're smiley and happy and you sleep through most nights. Viv's on overnight duty though, your first week with them, because she's the only one out of the two of them with working knees.

It's absolutely perfect. You settle in well and you fit so well in Viv's arms that it must be fate.

Then...She tears her ACL.

It's like you know something's wrong because you scream and cry for days on end and Beth and Viv barely have the strength to get up to attend to your needs.

Between the two of them, they manage to pull your crib into their room, leaving it at the foot of the bed for easy access. You get less time on the floor on your sensory mat because they can't bend down properly to grab you anymore.

It's like their own personal hell.

You won't settle unless one of them is holding you. You won't settle unless one of them is moving you about.

Beth cries multiple times as she tries to soothe you as you sob until you're red in the face. Viv cries too but when she's in bed and you've just fallen asleep. She sobs into Beth's chest for hours.

It's a struggle but neither she nor Beth can imagine their lives without you in it.

They keep you to themselves for the first few weeks they have you but end up bringing you with them to rehab when they start.

"Oh, look at this cutie," Vic coos as they both hobble in," Look! Look! She's smiling at me!"

"It's gas," Beth laughs.

You're completely passed out in your pram and you smack your lips together a few times in your sleep.

"I'll take her," Lia offers," If you two want to go to the physios."

"We can keep her," Beth insists," It's fine."

"You two can barely walk," Lia reminds them," Let alone push her all the way down to the physios. Let me take her."

Beth is loath to leave you. Viv doesn't want to leave either but she knows that Lia's right.

"You'll bring her back?" Beth asks and Lia shrugs.

"I don't know. This little cutie might end up coming home with me."

"Alright," Beth laughs," That's it. I don't think we're going to let you have her."

"Go!" Lia says," You'll get her back."

Beth is a little guilty as she tries to rush through the first part of the rehab session, desperately trying to hurry everyone along so she can escape to the gym where she knows you and Lia are.

Viv's not ready for the gym just yet so she's stuck in the physios for most of the day.

Beth hobbles her way to the gym as fast as she can go. The scene that greets her is one that she suspected.

Your pram is parked right by the door, completely empty save for the changing bag hanging off a handle. You're nowhere near it, held nice and snug in Lia's arms at the very centre of the group of fawning teammates.

You make happy little snuffling noises as the team coo over you.

"I hope you washed your hands," Beth says in greeting as she heads over.

"Of course!" Katie says with a grin as she tips her pretend hat," Only the best for Viv's baby."

Beth rolls her eyes. "I get that you're the president of Viv's fan club but she's my baby too."

Katie waves a dismissive hand. "Same thing."

"Well, do I get my baby back or not?"

Leah, who has somehow taken custody of you, shakes her head. "Haven't you got stretches to be doing?"

"Haven't you?"

"I'm holding this little munchkin. She's like a little angel, mate. I'm not putting her down."

"You've only got five minutes," Steph complains," Then it's my turn."

"Don't take turns on my baby!"

Leah rolls her eyes. "This is the Arsenal baby. She's all of our baby."

"I don't see you getting up in the middle of the night for a feed."

Leah ignores her, soaking up all her time with you before begrudgingly handing you over to Steph, who takes her turn happily before moving you along the line.

Beth doesn't get you back unless it's for feedings or to change you but even those two things are done with an audience of your aunties cooing over you.

"We need to keep her away from them," Beth says softly that night as she sits in bed with Viv, you tucked up on Viv's chest taking a bottle," We'll never get her back again."

Viv laughs as she mops up some of the milk that's spilt down your chin. "I don't think it's that easy."

It's not because a few weeks later Laura moves in.

She's done her ACL too and it's like pass the baby to the most depressed person in the room. With three working knees between them, it's like playing hot potato with the you and you're very rarely out of somebody's arms.

To be honest, you seem to enjoy this greatly and, when Viv finally puts her metaphorical foot down and sets you up for tummy time, you whine and cry the entire time.

"Don't, Laura," Viv says softly when Laura moves to pick you up again," Not with your knee."

Beth's the one that's been put in charge of you, sitting next to you on your mat with her leg stretched out.

You keep whining and crying and Beth has to turn a blind eye because she knows that you're meant to be having more tummy time than you're actually getting.

It's just easier if someone's holding you now that you currently have more working knees than anyone else in the house. Usually, it's Laura who ends up holding you (not that she complains) but Viv's insisted on tummy time.

You whine a bit pitifully before it peters off when you notice that no one's coming to your rescue.

"It's alright, munchkin," Beth says softly," Just a little bit longer and then you get to nap."

You end up doing that in her arms. It's easier than hobbling through the house to place you back down in your crib. You yawn softly, your mouth making the perfect 'o' as you move around a little bit.

Your eyes flutter shut and you go completely limp and relaxed in her arms.

"The bottles are done," Viv says as she limps over," Ready to be heated up when we need them."

Beth smiles. "Munchkin's asleep too."

"So is Laura."

Beth hadn't even noticed Laura asleep too, curled up on the sofa with an arm grazing the floor.

"We're so good at this. Two knees between us and we've got everything done."

Viv rolls her eyes. "I saw you finish her tummy time early, you know. She needs to do it properly later."

"Oh, come on, Viv! She was crying!"

"You're such a pushover."

[nataliasquote]

Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

[knavesflames]

hi!!! consider wandering into a gym and acting all weak so that pretty ladies will come up and offer to help you

i'm talking pretty ladies with ABS!!! dehya, clorinde, arlecchino, beidou, rosaria (take your pick, pookers)

i'm the weakest mf, i'd ask for a spotter to lift 5 lbs 😇 just to see the pretty women fr

Hi pookie!! I know you’re feeling down lately so I thought I’d try to prioritise this one for now😮 first post ever that isn’t Arlecchino based!! How crazy:0 time to give Dehya some well deserved love, I think..

Word count: 1181

Content: silly reader does not know the gym, dehya is a sweetie but also horny for reader, grinding on abs

Nsft utc!

When you walk into the gym, it’s more than obvious you are NOT a regular. Your appearance isn’t what gives it away (though it doesn’t help), it’s the fact you’re utterly adorable clueless with all the equipment. Even though you’re desperately trying to figure it out, nothing about what you’re doing is correct. From the way you struggle to lift a 4kg weight, to the way you aren’t even tall enough to reach the equipment that isn't the height of your waist or lower. You’re tiny. She feels bad for you in the beginning, and she does what no other woman in the gym does. She goes up to you, reaching to take down whatever equipment you need, spotting you even when you lift the smallest amount of weight possible. She sets the machines up correctly for you too, quietly letting you know that you’re doing it wrong. She doesn’t make it obvious, no, she knows how it could be embarrassing for you. You’re just so inexperienced.

She adores it. She’s been watching you since the day you started coming to this specific gym. Your tight clothes she knows you’re wearing to look more toned than you are. The way you struggle with every machine, the way you look around to copy other people’s motions. The way you stare at her when she’s training her muscles. Dehya is no idiot, not in the slightest, and you’re not subtle in the slightest. If anything, she enjoys the attention she’s getting from you, and she plays up to it. Lifting more than she needs to just to watch the rise and fall of your chest, grunting louder than she usually does to relish in the way your eyes glaze as you think of her grunting as she fucks you. She’s teasing you, and she loves every second of it.

So, she decides, after six long months, does she interact with you directly. Dehya, being Dehya, is just a little bored of watching you react so far away from her. She wants to hear your breathing, hear your muttered responses to her as she makes your mind go blank. You’re shy, though, she’s gathered that much, so she’ll be kind, she thinks. She’ll do it in a way that’s just as good for you both. Before she can think of what she’s doing, she’s tying her locks into a ponytail at the back of her head, careful not to put too much strain on the strands by her ears, and she’s calling out to you from across the gym.

“Hey, pretty girl,” she drawls, loud enough that your head whips around, your eyes wide at the idea of finally being noticed by the girl you’ve been pining over, the whole reason you’re going to the gym. “Come here and help me, yeah? Thanks, doll.”

You drop the weight you’re holding immediately (one you had strained to even pick up), almost scrambling over. You wait, bouncing your foot as you glance at her. You watch as Dehya moves into an exercise you’ve seen her do often, one you’ve always secretly (not so secretly, she knows) admired her doing. She lowers herself down to the floor before her eyes, blue as sapphires, focus on you again. “Sit here,” she pats the area around her hips softly, looking up at you expectantly.

“What?” You manage to splutter out words, looking at her with widened eyes almost in horror at the prospect. Only because you know immediately what’ll happen, and you already feel the coil in your stomach tighten at the idea. Somehow, though, you can’t resist from gingerly perching yourself on the side of her hip, only for Dehya to tut and shake her head with a grin.

“No, straddle me. I can’t exercise if I’m worried you’re gonna fall off, can I, doll?” She raises an eyebrow, just waiting, and eventually, you obey her, moving until your entire weight rests on her. She hums in approval, her hands finding your waist, her thumbs stroking the skin a little too intimately. “Good girl, see? God, you’re tiny.”

The words she says are breathless as she eyes you. She’s not ashamed either, the smirk on her face tells you that much, but a few seconds later, she’s using your body weight to do hip thrusts, grunting with every rep, enjoying your ever flushing face.

After a while, Dehya is past her usual rep count, and you know it, too, but she’s not stopping. She’s barely counting, and she’s more concentrated on the way her hands are squeezing ever so gently around your waist, and the way one of her hands is sliding towards your hip.

She knows it’s late at night, there isn’t anybody else here now. Everyone left a while ago, so she takes the chance. A risky move, and she does it anyway, faking innocence, like she has no idea what she’s doing. Her abs are already slick from the sweat continuously gathering, and despite you being clothed, she moves you gently towards her stomach. Her hip thrusts have slowed to a halt now, though, just to keep up the innocence she’s been feigning, she does another, but only to hide the way she ever so gently glides your clothed core against her abs.

She loves the way you gasp at the feeling of it, the way your lips part ever so slightly. So, she does the same thing. Three times, until her hip thrusts have stopped once again. No longer is she exercising, opting instead to make the pretty girl at the gym gasp and sigh in pleasure. Dehya eventually becomes more bold, one thumb tracing the band of your leggings, whispering sweet nothings about how wants to see you without them. Each word of hers, whispered with so much affection brings you closer and closer to whatever sort of cliff you’re approaching. Your hips? They don’t even need guidance from her anymore, they’re moving by themselves thanks to encouragement and praise from the woman below you.

“Good girl, just like that. Aw, you’re so tiny. So tiny you can move right across them, can’t you? You should come to the gym late at night more often.” She chuckles, moving you faster as you moan into the air. They’re stifled moans, but moans nonetheless, and her eyes light up the second she feels you trembling as your orgasm crashes over you in powerful waves. You grip her hand hard, and the hand that isn’t being crushed by your own comes to stroke your hair, her voice talking you through it.

“Yeah, that’s it. Come on, let it happen, yeah? It’s good, right? My favourite form of exercise.”

You cannot resist the abrupt, hoarse laughter that spills from your lips at her final comment. What an odd way of breaking the ice, you think, though the ice melted the second she gave you that first glance. Maybe you can employ her to be your personal trainer, or something. Maybe you can admit you only come to the gym for her, and invite her to your place.

[bbyseok]

hold this for me

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

cw: ua students setting, gender neutral reader, swearing obviously, classmates/friends to lovers, bakugou is a tsundere through and through, i know the classrooms don’t have regular doors just bear with it.. slightly suggestive in the end, but this is just some mushy sappy shit for you all

analysis: you know, bakugou can do a lot with his hands. but he especially likes to hold things for you and only you.

———

bakugou likes to hold stuff for you.

the first time you notice it is during a regular school day. the bell rings and that’s everyone’s cue to stand and depart from their desks to move on to lunch.

there’s the usual chattering from the dekusquad as they take their time to exit the classroom. bakugou and his friends aren’t that far off either, with the blonde grouching behind his gang as they move towards the door.

you’re trailing behind them leisurely, and that’s when you see it.

the door swings slightly and you’re about to raise your arm up to push it back to continue walking when a hand catches it and stops it from closing any further.

you blink once, twice—and see that the hand belongs to a certain blonde. bakugou stares at you a second too long; red irises unreadable before you hear his signature scoff and he turns away.

“you’re such a slow ass,” is all you get before he’s sauntering after his friends, and you narrowly dodge the door as it falls shut.

did he just hold the door open for you?

before you can call him out on it, he’s already down the hall, sneering at kirishima who had placed his hand on his shoulder.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

the second time you notice it is during training. the heat is sweltering—literally everyone is panting and sweating and you’re sure one of your classmates is gonna pass out from heat exhaustion.

thankfully, aizawa is nearly done with today’s session. it’s obvious that the sleep-deprived teacher isn’t fond of today’s weather either.

most of your classmates, along with yourself, had tossed your gym jackets aside on the floor, but with the session finished, you figure you might as well grab yours from the pile.

you turn and nearly crash face first into bakugou’s chest.

“ow-! bakugou? what’re you-” you splutter and barely have time to actually ask what he’s doing before he’s shoving your jacket into your arms. and then you splutter in surprise some more.

“here, dumbass.” that’s all he has to say, glaring down at you intensely. (seriously, is he always scowling? it’s like he’s staring into your soul or something.)

“oh- uh, thanks?” you gather your jacket into your arms and then tie it around your waist. shit, he’s still standing there. “…you really didn’t have to.”

his arms are crossed when you look at him again. “yeah, yeah. go drink water or something. you look like you’re gonna pass the fuck out.”

(yikes. maybe you were the one who looks like they’re gonna pass out from heat exhaustion if bakugou is wasting his time to tell you that.)

your nose scrunches up. “right.”

and before you can say anything else, he’s storming away, hands shoved in his pockets ‘n all. some of the others usher over to you, bombarding you with questions, and realization dawns on you.

“what’d he say to you?”

“did bakugou just give you your jacket?”

“did he say anything else?”

(despite all the talking, you also realize that had been bakugou’s own little way—albeit a little gruff—of telling you to take care of yourself.)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

the third time you notice is all it takes for you to actually realize it.

the entire class had somehow managed to plan out a night at the movies over the weekend. what is even more surprising to you is that kirishima had somehow convinced bakugou to go.

(what you didn’t know at the time was that kiri had actually teased the explosive blonde that he’d be sitting next you. bakugou for sure as hell wasn’t gonna allow that.)

you’re running a little late to the theater—you really should have left with the others at the same time but you decided to get ready a bit later than you should’ve.

by the time you’re entering the theater, the previews are already playing on the big screen. you squint and try to catch sight of your classmates, walking along the rows of seats.

“oi, dumbass,” bakugou sneers to grab your attention, and you blink at him. he’s seated at the end of the row, away from the others, though they wave at you once they see you. he speaks again so you can look back at him, “i held up and saved this seat for you. sit your ass down already.”

you stare at him for a couple of seconds, dumbfounded. he, bakugou katsuki, wants you to sit next to him? the question must be written all over your face because he scowls. “come on- fucking sit down already!”

if it weren’t for the darkened lighting, you might have seen the pink on his cheeks as you giggle and make yourself comfortable for the next hour or so. “thanks, bakugou! you really didn’t have to save me a seat, y’know.” it makes you feel all warm that he did, though.

he slouches in his seat (somewhat towards you) and shoves his cheek into his palm. “fuckin’ whatever,” he mumbles, trying to play it off, “if you talk too much during the movie, i’ll kick your ass.”

and as you cast him a sideways glance, you snort in amusement. “whatever you say, bakugou.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

you realize he likes holding stuff for you.. even if vehemently denies it with everything he has. with every fiber of his being. just like how he is right now with a bouquet of flowers.

“it’s not like it’s anything special! just fuckin’ take it, dumbass!” he threatens, looking at anything and everything but you, “‘fore i change my goddamn mind.”

he’s awkwardly standing in the doorframe of your dorm room after you had answered his knocking. he’s in his regular clothes, nothing too fancy, but you’re looking at him like he had just offered you the world.

“well?” his voice is loud but clearly racked with uncertainty, and you’re pretty sure that if he holds the flowers any longer they’re gonna burn up.

your heart flutters at his flustered state, and you decide to relieve him of his nervousness, however cute it makes him, and take the flowers from him with a genuine smile. “i love them. thank you, katsuki.”

his eyes then meet yours all wide before he’s grumbling again. “yeah, yeah. your welcome.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

you decide to test it out, even though you’re now in a committed relationship with the red-eyed blonde.

now, bakugou is a refined chef. (or so he claims.) young man could whip up a lot of good meals thanks to his skills in the kitchen. so what does he do? he drags you over to help him.

though, it seems like some of the stuff you need is missing, so you go digging around the cabinets ‘n drawers as your boyfriend lingers over your shoulder.

“dumbass,” he grunts, “are you even sure it’s in there?” his tone is all accusatory as you start rummaging through one of the cabinets for a certain pot.

“i’m sure, ‘suki!” you insist, pulling and taking some things out. “hold on, hold this stuff f’me.”

all he does is grunt in confirmation and that’s all you need. sure, you can simply place them onto the counter but letting bakugou hold them for you is way more fun.

by the time you were done emptying out the cabinet, your boyfriend is balancing a complicated stack of pans, pots, and other tupperware in his arms. “the fuck, dumbass?” he scolds you, growling, “hold on-!”

you can’t help but burst into laughing until the small tower of stuff wobbles and you make a loud mess in the kitchen.

yes, he still likes holding stuff for you—even if you’re a little shit sometimes.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

now, you’re pretty confident that you know he likes holding anything for you. like, pretty confident. (it doesn’t hurt to still test it out, though. you like to keep him on his toes sometimes.)

you’re walking alongside him back to the dorms after a grocery run. it had first started as an adventure to grab bakugou’s precious spicy ramen and your favorite snacks, before his “stupid extras” of friends asked for some stuff too.

“katsu,” you coo at him to get his attention sweetly. you know it takes very little for him to listen to you, and you like to use that to your advantage. “can you hold this for me?”

bakugou turns his head and raises a brow expectantly at you. “tch. what is it?” he grunts, already willing.

you offer up your free hand with a stupid grin.

two seconds pass and then his face immediately flushes with the realization of what you want him to hold. “if you wanted to hold hands, you could’ve asked like a normal person, weirdo,” he grumbles, but he takes your hand nonetheless and twines your fingers with his.

you raise your joined hands together to press a kiss against his knuckles. “thanks, katsuki.”

his blush deepens as he tilts his chin up in feigned annoyance. “don’t even have to ask, idiot.” yet, there’s fondness that coats his voice.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

it’s in the dead of night that you ask bakugou katsuki to hold one more thing for you.

the moonlight dances over the expanse of bakugou’s room through the window. there’s the sound of crickets and their songs outside too.

but you and katsuki are only focused on each other, lost in each other’s touch. there’s only hushed whispers and soft caresses between the two of you.

and as you kiss him, you ask him to hold your heart.

which he gladly does, because if anything, bakugou katsuki loves to hold things for you.

[mrs-kodzuken]

So hot for you ♡

Pairing: Haijme Iwaizumi x fem!reader

WC: 1.3k

Genre: mostly fluff

CW: fem!reader, girly!reader, making out at school, Kuroo is your cousin, school pride

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Even though Tetsu was a pain in the ass, I still followed his directions. Meaning I'd gotten all the "cute" things he described.

Tetsurō is my cousin, and even though we bicker a lot, he actually helps with 'problems' that I might have and he thought my relationship was one of those problems.

As I obviously spilled everything to him, he became some kind of relationship expert, saying how I should dress cute for Hajime and see how he reacts.

In the way he was telling me, it seemed very harmless, innocent even, but I should have known there would be a hidden meaning to it.

I had woken up earlier than usual, giving me more time to style my hair. I decided on two low pigtails with a cherry hair holder.

I added cherry-flavored red lip gloss along with red earrings.

Somehow, I thought all the red would clash against the blue on my school uniform, but it didn't. Thanks Tetsu for the advice, I reluctantly thought.

I hoped this wouldn't take a turn for the worst.

After I had fixed my outfit, slightly making my top a bit tighter, I took out my contacts and put on my glasses.

Tetsu had typed everything in a message to me for my 'lover boy'.

I wasn't sure how all of this would play out, but I still continued with it. Reading down the list, I put on clear mascara too. Make up wasn't really my thing, so I had to improvise.

When I was finally finished, I ate a small breakfast due to nerves and headed out the door. The next thing was to try to avoid Hajime all day.

I wasn't sure how that was going to play out since I'm the team manager for the volley club, which he's in. So I did the next best thing: stay busy.

Taking a deep breath, I walked into the gym. The team were still getting everything set up like the net and hadn't noticed me yet.

I set my bag down on my usual bench and headed for a part of the net to set up.

When I came out of the closet, I could feel their eyes burning holes into my back.

I turned around, looking at all of them carefully. "Well? Aren't you guys going to practice?" I motioned to the gym, and they all got their heads back into it.

I still haven't seen Hajime or Oikawa yet, but deciding not to worry about them, I carried on.

Halfway through morning practice, I heard the obnoxious sounds of the two boys entering the gym.

I quickly turned around to face them, "Morning practice started fifteen minutes ago; where were you guys?" I scolded them, seeing as they should be on time.

They are the captain and vice captain, after all.

"We, uh," Oikawa didn't finish as his eyes were trailing all over me. I could practically feel, and see, the glare Hajime was giving Oikawa.

"Uh, huh, great explanation. Go warm up." I stated it sharply, not caring about whether he was staring or not.

I walked closer to Hajime and said, "Yo, why are you two late? You're literally never late."

No matter how much I started speaking, trying to get his actual attention, his eyes would trail my mouth, the movements of my body, everything.

"Oh great, morning practice is over, guys." I whisked around and signaled for them to hit the showers so they wouldn't smell bad during classes.

Grabbing my bag that I had set on the bench, I quickly walked out of the gym, noticing Hajime keeping up with me.

I don't even know why I followed Tetsu's dumbass advice. Nothing had happened except for me getting stares. Which I didn't enjoy.

Even though I had spent an entire day looking cute, it felt worthless because I was avoiding Hajime.

Tetsu said it'd pay off in the end, but my ears were hurting due to the earrings, and having to reapply lip gloss was a pain after I ate or drank something.

However, I couldn't deny that I looked cute today, more so than usual.

School had already been over, earlier than I expected since I wasn't really paying attention. I was confused about how all of this would pay off.

Since school had ended, that meant I could stop avoiding Hajime, right?

As soon as I saw him, I engulfed him in a warm back hug.

"Hey, Hajime," I said softly, feeling his back muscles.

He suddenly took my hand and sharply led me over to a secluded area, the spot behind the gym. "We need to talk," he stated briefly.

Before I knew it, I was pressed against a wall with Hajime's arms trapping me inside.

A very light blush appeared on his cheeks as he looked down. "Everyone was staring at you." He spoke lowly, his voice sending shivers down my spine.

"You're mine," and suddenly his lips were on mine, roughly kissing me. One of his arms had moved to my waist; the other was still on the wall.

I broke away, looking into his eyes. My heart sped up as I saw my gloss on his lips. I resisted a giggle and leaned back in.

Hijime had picked me up, making me wrap my legs around his waist, not breaking the kiss. He pressed me against the wall as his tongue slid into my mouth.

Our tongues danced together, swirling around each other. The wet muscles exploring each other's mouths. I could taste my lip gloss, which happened to be in his mouth too.

It all was so hot, I couldn't help but to release small moans into his mouth.

I grinded a bit on his waist and let my hands play with his unusually soft hair.

Of course, he decided to take control and grip my hair, still in the low pigtails. He pulled away, catching his breath, a string of saliva connecting our mouths.

His eyes were lidded, tracing over my features as I'm sure I looked the same.

He had my lip gloss smeared all over his lips, and the taste of my gloss was still in my mouth. I let go of his waist with my legs and caught my breath too.

"Why'd you dress like that, baby?" He asked, hiding his face in the crook of my neck, his arms softly gripping my waist.

I could tell he didn't want to further this moment whilst we were at school.

"Well, I was doing what my cousin said," I trailed off, getting my phone out to show him when I was stopped by a glance at the time.

"Uh, Hajime? We should have been at practice twenty minutes ago."

I showed him the time instead, and he whispered an, "Oh, shit.."

Grabbing our bags, we calmly and quickly walked to the gym.

I looked over to him, seeing his lips red and plump from the making out. My gloss was still on his face, and it was sparkly too.

Hajime's hair was a bit messy from my fingers running through it.

I saw all of this but decided to pretend I didn't, wanting to see the outcome. We had walked in together, making his teammates stare.

"Where were you guys?" Oikawa asked, a hand on his hip.

"Sorry, I was doing stuff," Hajime answered, setting his bookbag down and stretching his arms, preparing to practice.

I turned towards Oikawa, who was taking a sip of his water, not curious anymore. Perfect timing.

"I'm stuff."

With those two words, I had managed to get him to spit his drink out onto the floor.

"Come again?" he wheezed out, coughing madly.

"Man, I wish." I smirked with my answer, knowing I'd get scolded by Iwaizumi later.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: this is from my book “Haikyuu x Reader One Shots” on Wattpad! I hope you enjoyed and let me know if you have any requests!!

the header is made by me, please like/reblog if used <3

[being-addie]

Morning Routines

We're all looking at those Instagram influencers who somehow manage to wake up at 5 am, do meditation, journal, do a 15-step Korean skincare routine, and go to the gym. And then they make a green smoothie and avocado toast, get dressed in a Chanel outfit and then sit at their fancy desk with a vanilla latte and a croissant.

This is not realistic. You probably already know that, but it likely won't stop you from trying to change your routine bit by bit to look a little like theirs. That didn't stop me, at least.

But now I've come to realise that no matter how much I try, I'll never be able to have a routine like the ones I see online. Because it doesn't exist. It's all curated for aesthetic appeal and generates a sense of false productivity in the watcher's brain. We feel motivated looking at those videos and never get around to changing our own life because we're too busy living vicariously through our phones.

Here's some things you should add to your morning routine, not to be fancy, but to feel better. This is coming from someone who's tried the unrealistic routines, and I now incorporate all of these into my routine. You can skip or add things according to your schedule.

S-T-R-E-T-C-H: Do your body a favour and loosen up your muscles. Nothing better than having a good stretch that wakes your body up.

Drink water: Before you put anything in your system, drink water. Not coffee, not tea. Plain warm water. And I don't mean lemon water. Some people might not agree, but lemon water strips your teeth of the enamel. It also is acidic, so all that bullshit they talk about it being "alkaline and pH balancing" is nonsense. Warm water is the way to go.

Make your bed: A clean bed should be the first thing you do after you wake up. At the end of the day, you'll thank yourself because it will be clean, and fresh and you can fall into bed immediately.

Hygiene: Wash your face to get rid of crusty eyes and sleep. Do a basic skincare routine (cleanser, moisturizer) so you'll feel fresher. Brush your teeth and hair.

Move your body: It doesn't matter what you do, even if it's for 15 minutes. Go for a walk, do a Zumba workout, or squeeze in a HIIT session. You can find lots of tutorials on YouTube (Caroline Girvan, growingannanas, Chloe Ting). Either way, working out will help you feel more motivated and happier. It's the endorphins.

Clean yourself: Set aside some time for showering, slathering on lotion, and doing your (real) skincare and makeup routine. Pick an outfit that makes you feel good about yourself.

Eat something: ALWAYS make some food. Your body has been famished for hours on end, give it some fuel. Make a healthy breakfast, or prep one the night before. If you don't get very hungry in the mornings, have a banana, and pack a mid-morning snack beforehand so you don't reach for chips.

Do 3 things: Make a to-do list of everything you need to do today. Don't overwhelm yourself. Then, knock off 3 easy tasks from the list that you can do quickly. You'll be filled with a sense of motivation, and it'll be easier for you to complete your list. It can be chores, it could be some assigned reading. Just get it done.

Gratitude or prayer: You don't need to sit for 15 minutes to practice gratitude. You can think of things your thankful for on the way to school or work or practice deep breathing/say a small prayer on the subway or bus. You don't HAVE to do it, but it definitely makes you realise how much you have in life and appreciate it more.

Kindness: Start your day with kindness. Compliment your barista, smile at the old lady on the street, pet the stray cat. There's so much love in the world, and you have so much love inside you, and it's beautiful to be a part of it.

No longer will I be stuck in a rut. I cannot be confined to being a bitter, unhealthy person when I know there's a smiling, healthy, happy version of me in the future. Deep breaths. You'll get there babe.

<3

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

love lies licky

~masterlist~ wc: 2k reader: afab!reader — reader is supposed to be like kristen stewart in love lies bleeding. you get the picture warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut; also mentions of crime/drugs/violence but no real specifics, just a backdrop; bad relationships with fathers summary: 80’s crime/city noir AU — reader is the owner of a seedy but successful gym and prettyrichboy!ricky walks in one night inquiring about a membership -- inspired by 2024 film love lies bleeding starring kstew and katy o'brian devastated by how long it too me to post something. truly sorry about that. i literally love you all so much!! enjoy.

EXPLICIT 18+ SMUT WARNINGS: oral (reader receiving), public sex, a little bit of stalking/watching, mentions of crime/drugs/violence, etc. but not overly dark— just a fun backdrop

—

three.

two.

one.

it’s the kid across from you that just finished his set, but somehow you’re the one out of breath. black hair pushed back except for a few strands that have fallen into his eyes. a heart monitor band around his growing bicep as he places the free weights back onto the rack. veins popping from his slender wrists.

it’s at this moment you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror— jaw dropped as you recline back on the leg press. how long had you been sitting there?

you stand up, wondering if he’s noticed you yet. wouldn’t be the first time you’d snuck a glance in the past week. and it’s not like he’d called you out on it before.

and even if he did, you had a pretty good cover. you own the gym. as far as a legal defense, you’re just an extra attentive fitness manager.

keeping an eye out for your most interesting patron.

you make your way over to the front desk, reminded of some new member paperwork you’d been neglecting to file for a few hours. you should probably finish that before closing.

and you have every intention to do just that. but a particular exhale suddenly comes from the other side of the room. and it’s just out of your hands.

you set your stack of papers aside, walking back out onto the gym floor. you spot him instantly: on the leg press you’d previously been watching him from. he’s got a good amount of weight on it.

you’re actually concerned it might be too much.

when he’d first signed up for your gym a couple months ago, you’d actually fought the urge to laugh straight in his face. not to be misunderstood— he was a handsome kid. a tall, thin figure dressed in a designer coat with a pretty face to match. one that didn’t like to get roughed up much. he could be a runway model. or one of those cute teeny bopper boys that your niece likes.

buy your gym had a bit of reputation. it wasn’t really a place for boys like him. it was rough around the edges. maybe even a little seedy. but it’s where every bodybuilder went to get the best winning physique. results guaranteed.

“hi,” he’d said quietly with a polite smile. you frowned, removing your headphones off of only one ear.

“we don’t have a public restroom,” you’d replied, popping a mid-size bubblegum bubble in his face. “sorry.”

“oh no, uh,” he stuttered, hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “i wanted to sign up for a membership.”

wide eyes was an understatement. you couldn’t believe what’d just come out of his mouth. this little rich boy thought he could just waltz into your gym and join? did he really think he could survive that?

“get lost, kid,” you said, smacking your blue bubblegum. “you’re in over your head. how ‘bout you try one of those luxury gyms around the corner? probably more your style.”

he shook his head fervently. “no, wait! i—... i wanna join this gym.”

you raised an eyebrow at him. “yeah? and why the hell would you wanna do that?”

“because i want to do this,” he replied, brow furrowed in determination. “i wanna prove that i can do this.”

you stared at him for a long moment. you’d had a lot of people beg to join your gym before. and you’d had no problem showing them all the door. but there was something about this kid. you couldn’t tell if you wanted to watch him fail or succeed.

an exasperated sigh left your lungs as you pulled open your desk drawer and threw a booklet of paperwork at him. “fine. but i am not responsible for any injuries— physical, emotional, spiritual, medical, or financial— that you incur while at the gym.”

“financial?” he repeated warily.

“take a look around,” you said, gesturing to the worse-for-wear gym. “padlock your belongings all you want, but if someone here wants into your locker, they’re getting in. and if you walk around looking like that, you might as well just tattoo a giant target on your back.”

he looked down at the ground, swallowing nervously before meeting your gaze again. “understood.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. maybe he was just some rich shit looking for cheap steroids. he’d find that and more at your gym. you didn’t really care. but as you picked up a pen and handed it to him, his eyes lit up with excitement.

“what’s your name, kid?” you asked, taking a sip of the warm beer you’d left out on the welcome desk.

he looked up from the paperwork he was rapidly filling out, smiling as he answered...

“ricky.”

—

you hadn’t paid much attention to him at first. you figured he’d last a week at your gym at best. and you’d predicted accurately how that week would go. he was mugged three days in a row, approached to buy drugs persistently every half hour, and even took a pretty nasty punch to the gut from one of your best patrons: a heavyweight world champion powerlifter named steve.

but when monday rolled around the next week, you were taken aback to see ricky walking through the doors at 10 p.m. sharp.

he gave you a little wave. you nodded at him confusedly.

and then he went straight to work. just like he did the next night. and the next night. until two months had suddenly gone by.

and wouldn’t you know it— all of that hard work had begun to actually pay off. his arm muscles had grown significantly and his chest had broadened as well. of course, he was never gonna be the size of the regular bodybuilders in your gym. they were all on lethal amounts of steroids anyway.

but he looked... good. and you found his dedication to be kind of admirable. he was tougher than you ever could’ve imagined.

so after a couple months, you’d started moseying over from your welcome desk or whatever machine you were using to offer some help. maybe it was form correction or a spot or just some lackluster encouragement, but he seemed grateful to receive whatever it was you were willing to give him.

“if you don’t keep those fucking knees bent,” you’d corrected, lit cigarette in between your fingers and blue bubblegum twisted around your tongue.

“sorry, sorry,” ricky apologized, correcting his form immediately. “it’s just harder like this.”

“i bet it is, kid,” you’d replied, shaking your head. “thought you’d gotten stronger, but i guess not.”

“i have and you know it,” he protested, rolling his eyes. you smirk at him as he catches your eye in the mirror. “and i’m not a kid. i’m three years younger than you.”

“you’re a kid as long as you’re still living on daddy’s money,” you said, clucking your tongue disapprovingly. “some of us don’t even have a dad.”

the weight dropped from ricky’s hand, crashing onto the floor with a bang. he looked around awkwardly, picking it back up and mumbling, “sorry.”

“what? did that make you uncomfortable?” you asked, taking a drag. “figures. why’d you even sign up for this gym in the first place?”

ricky finished his set, placing the weights down on the ground carefully. “this is the gym you go to if you want the best results.”

“it certainly is,” you agreed with a smile. “but i assume you’d never been to a place on the wrong side of town like this before. like a baby deer in headlights, is what i’d call it.”

he shook his head. “you’re right. i guess i hadn’t. but i wanted to prove i could do this. and i thought this was my only shot.”

“you said that before,” you remarked with a frown. “‘prove i could do this’. why would you of all people have anything to prove to anyone?”

ricky shrugged. “just because i have a father, doesn’t mean he was happy to have me.”

after a moment, you huffed a laugh. “alright, kid. i get it.”

“and i also heard the owner of this gym was a total smokeshow,” he added, walking over to the water fountain and leaving you behind.

you fight a smile. “and?”

“and i wasn’t disappointed.”

—

you sit down on a raised utility bench, straddling it as you observe ricky at the leg press. it might be your fault he’d increased the weight so much— you’d been telling him to put some more emphasis on growing his leg muscles for a few days now. not that he didn’t already have good legs, but it’d be a shame if all the upper body work made him unproportional.

he’s handling it surprisingly well. good enough form to get him through a set. you watch as a bead of sweat drips down the side of his face.

and gasp softly when you unconsciously grind into the bench your straddling.

you’d like to claim you couldn’t help it. that it was a little mistake that you’d never make again. that you cared at all about being professional.

but you can’t. because you’re pressing yourself back into the cushion of the seat in a matter of seconds.

blame hormones. blame the time on the clock. blame the two beers you’d chugged within a half hour of each other or the adrenaline from the fight you broke up earlier in the night.

but the truth is, it’s his fault. it’s all him.

you look up from the cushion beneath you, expecting to see him completing his set, but instead, he’s sitting reclined on the machine— an amused expression on his face as he stares back at you.

“what muscles are you targeting over there?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. “pelvic floor?”

your mouth hangs open, not really sure what you could possibly say to deflect this situation.

ricky stands up, walking over to you carefully with his arms folded across his chest. “you know, that’s why i like this place so much. a lot of gyms are run by some corporate fuck who’s never even touched the equipment. but even the owner of this gym’s dedication to fitness is truly inspiring.”

“it was my dad’s gym,” you admit suddenly. “he willed it to me when he died.”

ricky looks at you thoughtfully before snorting. “i bet he’d be proud to see you using the equipment to its full potential.”

“i don’t care what he’d think,” you replied, shaking your head. “he’s dead.”

ricky smiles at this as he sinks to his knees in front of you. “lucky.”

he raises his brow quickly, asking for permission as his hands hover over your thighs. you nod slowly until his palms sink into your soft skin, kneading then gruffly. you push yourself closer to him, spreading your legs to show him where you really want him.

“a little desperate, hm?” ricky asks with a smirk, pushing his long fingers up the gaps of your short-shorts all the same. “don’t let any of these meatheads ever take you for a spin?”

“s’unprofessional,” you answer as he hooks his fingers around the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs— discarding them onto the gym floor.

you were never wearing any underwear.

“oh yeah? well what would you call what you’re doing right now?” he asks, pushing you gently down until your back is flat against the bench. hands gripping your thighs, he inches in closer until his lips finally connect with your core. “you know there’s still people in here right?”

you look around at the lingering gym members still pushing through their workouts. fuck ‘em, you think as you sigh contentedly. “i’d call it understandable.”

he grins before diving into you, lapping at all the wetness that’s already gathered at your opening for him. he takes it on his tongue, bringing it to your most sensitive area and swirling persistent circles around it.

you’re whimpering and you couldn’t be more surprised. the pretty boy gives good head? you thought guys like him usually used their money as foreplay instead.

your hands reach instinctively for his biceps, admiring up close how much he’s improved his own physique. they look even better wrapped around your legs, though.

you give them a squeeze and ricky’s lips pop off of you with a smack. the corner of his lips upturns cheekily, your juices dripping from his chin.

“not too bad, right?” he asks, eyes shining as he seeks your approval. “for a guy like me, i mean?”

you smile, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the roots. “not too bad at all.”

the reassurance lights up his face as he continues lapping at your heat with renewed passion. your climax approaches rapidly as he switches to sucking— the steady, quick suction on your clit sending you over the edge.

“fuck, oh my god,” you whine, your grip tightening around ricky’s arm as your thighs squeeze him closer to you. “i—… m’cumming.”

“fucking gorgeous,” he moans into your cunt as you ride out your high. a few deep breaths and you sit up, looking at the mess dripping from you and onto the bench. you can guarantee it’s not the first time thay bench has been covered in someone’s cum.

ricky hands you the container of sanitary wipes on the bench next to yours.

“don’t you think we should wait until we’re all done?” you ask with a smirk, eyeing the bulge that’s grown in his shorts.

but to your surprise, ricky shakes his head and stands up from the floor— walking back over to the leg press.

“back to work,” he says with a grin. “these hamstrings aren’t gonna build themselves. maybe you should get some work done, too.”

why that little shit—

you grab your cutoff denim shorts off the ground, grabbing the pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the back pocket.

if this kid wants to play…

you’ll just have to play, too.

[chiiyuuvv]

fuma as a crush and bf ₊˚ෆ

crush/bf!fuma x fem!reader 0.7k words requested!

▸ 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺?

When fuma has a crush on you, he’d..

(♡•♡) give you small smiles whenever you enter the room, whenever you open your mouth to speak, whenever you make eye contact.. It’s just his way of saying hello without sounding like an idiot. 

(♡•♡) stutter whenever you talk to him. It’s part of the reason why he likes to stick to small smiles. Not because he hates your presence, he just hates the fact that he stutters so much around you, his cheeks burning red as he bats his eyes to the floor, finding his shoes extra shiny

(♡•♡) be protective over you. He likes to call himself subtle, but anyone walking by can see the glares he gives to men when they try to even take a glance at you. You don’t know it yet, but you’re his girl, so no one is going to be looking at you in any type of way >:(

(♡•♡) follow you like a lost puppy. Or should I say, “she said she likes this, so I’m going to do the same thing” knowing good and well he despises whatever action you’re doing. If you decide to put bows in his hair, he’d be cringing on the inside, but hey, at least you’re happy 🤷‍♀️

(♡•♡) confess when you’re trapped inside a run down elevator. Usually fuma would like to keep his feelings to himself, but he hates when he begins to second guess the situation, thinking about all the possible ways something could go wrong. It limits him from being happy, and he hates feeling trapped inside a box. So as you’re sitting there in silence, he’d randomly blurt out the feelings he’s been holding back, finally able to get them off his chest. He doesn’t expect you to like him back, so to say he was a little shocked when you got up and kissed him was an understatement. 

When you’re dating fuma, he’d..

♥‿♥ want to go grocery shopping together! He’d insist on carrying all the baskets and paying for all your purchases, your only job is to point at the things you want so he can get them for you. Likes to socialize when waiting in the checkout line, his arm wrapped around your waist while he pushes your head to his shoulder; he’s not exactly a pda type of guy, but he does crave your warmth from time to time :3

♥‿♥ put his hand on your thigh whenever you’re in a dinner setting. This isn’t to rile you up in any type of way, just like a comforting reminder, chanting the words, “I’m here,” if you somehow manage to forget. He’d also feed you snacks if you’re out on a picnic or something. It honestly reminds me of High School Musical, the scene where Troy and Gabriella are trying to throw grapes into each other's mouths. It’s romantic yet silly, something fuma cherishes.

♥‿♥ want you to go to the gym with him. You don’t even have to work out, he just likes it when you’re watching him do his form. He feels powerful almost, knowing he’s the reason why you drool, which keeps him motivated to do better 😋

♥‿♥ be your #1 supporter. Like I said before, fuma doesn’t like being trapped inside a box, so he’d encourage himself to step out of his shell and face his fears, the same goes for you. He understands why you’re scared, but he wants you to understand that he will be with you every step of the way. When you finally face your fear, fuma would be so proud of you, spending the rest of the day (or week (or month)) spoiling you, celebrating your victory. And if you didn’t, fuma would console you, because at least you tried your hardest, you know?

♥‿♥ nag at you. Fuma is not only your boyfriend.. He’s your mother atp. Nags at you for going outside without a jacket. Nags at you for staying inside and playing pokemon all day. Nags at you for refusing to eat your vegetables – he’d give you one stern look, and right then and there did you know that you messed up. He doesn’t want to seem mean, but he wants you to take care of your health is all :(( 

︴bonus! @kehnarii, i told you were thoughts were in good hands!!

▸ taglist 🎧 @starryriize , @cherrycolaberry , @kehnarii , @wtfisgoingright

🎬 navi

@chiiyuuvv on tumblr . do not steal works/headers/line dividers

[sweetiebarnes]

FAVORITE PLACES

Various characters and their favorite places to have sex.

Warnings: public sex, shower sex, car sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, cum kink, basically this is all filth.

A/N: Please do not report this! It's so frustrating to have things reported. If I missed any warnings you feel should be listed, please let me know. Gifs made by me. I know I didn't list all of Seb's characters, but I did some of my favorites.

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 - After being denied pleasure for many years, Bucky is desperate. He’s more than happy to have sex any place at any time. Out to dinner with friends? He doesn’t care, he’ll gladly take you in the bathroom of the restaurant. Heading to a mission? No better place than the back of the jet. He even took you in the laundry room of your parent’s house. The man is insatiable. 

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧- Carter loves the thrill of making you cum while riding the elevator. It all started when the two of you got stuck on one. He knew he needed to distract you somehow. What better way than having you cum on his cock? Now, whenever you two ride one together, he considers it a challenge to see just how fast he can make you cum.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 - Charles loves to take you apart in the back seat of his red convertible. He gets even more excited when you let him keep the top down. It’s almost like he’s determined to get caught. He craves the sound of your moans and screams. Let the townspeople hear you while his tongue is buried deep into your soaked pussy. 

𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 - The gym, of course. Lance loves to use the different gymnastics equipment to his advantage. You'd never considered yourself to be flexible. That is, until Lance came along. He causes you to bend and stretch in ways you didn't even know was possible. Whether it's bending you over the pommel horse or having you ride him on top of the mats, he always manages to give you a solid workout.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 - Lee loves to fuck you at the station. It all started when he spotted two of his deputies staring at your ass. That afternoon he made sure they all knew who you belonged to. He bent you over his desk and pounded into you until you were screaming his name. Now anytime you bring his lunch (which happens frequently). Everyone in the station knows what’s about to happen. Lee can't help but feel smug as you walk out of his office with his cum running down your thighs.

𝐌𝐚𝐱 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 - Max craves the riches in life. He lives for the thrill. He loves to have sex in your current mark's house. Once, you were conning a millionaire. Max fucked you up against the window of the man's penthouse. He always finds a way to be a part of the con. Whether it's posing as your best friend, brother, or coworker. He doesn't care. As long he finds a way to have you.

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 - Mickey loves to fool around inside his DJ booth. Once the club was so dark, he was able to fuck you without anyone noticing. He's constantly looking for opportunities to make it happen again. But most of the time, the two of you are only able to manage to sneak in a blow job or some fingering. It doesn't matter though, because the set is over. He'll find a place so he can be buried deep inside your pussy.

𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐫- Nick loves to take you apart in the shower. There's just something about the way the water trickles down your breasts that makes him feral. He loves the way you look with your hair soaked and the blissed-out expression on your face. Whether it's first thing in the morning or ending a long day. Nothing relaxes Nick more than a shower with you.

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐊𝐞𝐦𝐩 - Steve never expected to be able to fuck you once he put you in his basement. No, he thought once you found out the truth of everything, you’d want nothing to do with him. But that wasn’t the case at all. He quickly realizes you're just as twisted as he is. So, that's why he loves to fuck you while you're locked away. Knowing that his other victims are listening only causes him to want this more.

[kyemna]

Time-skip Haikyu boys and their love language

Pt.2

Tw: suggestive, profanity, sex below the cut

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Kemna: Gift Giving

• I don't think Kemna is really big on physical touch, and he's kinda lazy. So I think gift giving is this guy's love language.

• Got you a gaming setup so you can play together.

• He would be so into roleplay/costumes.

So obviously he got you a maid outfits, cat ears, this guy is freaky. Somehow it's always the quiet ones you gotta look out for.

• Likes it when you give him something too. Not in a materialistic way, he can do that himself, my man is rich, but in a physical way.

• Gets you a cute skirt, will want you on all fours. Maybe a blowjob underneath his desk when he's busy?

• Also, something else I thought of, kinda unrelated, but I think he's totally into voyeurism. Because of this he sometimes invites Kuroo over to do his 'job' for him, so his lazy ass can watch.

Bokuto: Physical Touch 100%.

• We all know how energetic he is, so he often jumps on you (forgetting how fucking heavy he is.)

• Has to constantly be touching you, and not always in a discreet way..

For example: it could be as simple as holding your hand under the table in a restaurant. Or, he could be fully clinging to you. And I mean CLINGING. Both at home and in public.

• This guy as so much fucking stamina, so I can just see him fucking your brains out for hours. Especially when he's had a shitty or stressful day. Overstimulation, we don't know her.

• The upside to this ^ (for him) is, because he re-arranged your organs, you can barely walk, so he can just carry you around the house all day! Yippie!

• Loves to snuggle with you on the couch and binge watch all your favorite movies and series. Even better when it's Friday and ya'll can pull an all nighter.

Sugawara: Quality Time

• All he wants is your undivided attention. And he will do anything to get it.

Snatches your phone when you're not looking, hides your earphones or the remote.

• So when he's railing you like it's the last time he'll ever see you again, he wants you looking at him. Eye contact.

When you do somehow manage to look away, he stops all his movements, no matter how close you were, until you look at him again.

• He's a giver, but everyone likes so be on the receiving end sometimes right? So a massage, a home cooked meal.. yk or you jerking him off/a blowjob could never go wrong!

• Since he's a teacher, and probably always kinda busy, he takes his work home and wants you to tell him about your day while he's grading a student's test. We love a guy that can multitask.

• Usually greets you with 'Hey pretty', when he joins you in bed after a long day.

Oikawa: Physical Touch

• When he's not on the court or in the gym training, he's with you. Or rather, he's on top of you. Asleep. While you read or watch a movie.

• Loves, loves, LOVES your legs. When you're doing literally anything, his hands always find your legs. Brushing his fingers across them while you're cooking, having your legs on his shoulders when he's pounding into you, or tracing his lips along them, working his way up.

• Also adores your boobs. No matter what shape, size or colour they are, his face is buried in them.

• Such a sucker for back hugs. When he's folding the laundry, and you sneak up behind him. Always hears you coming, but is really good at faking his fear.

• In fall or winter he surprises you! With cold hands. Under your shirt. He will keep them there until they're warm again.

• In public, if you're not big on PDA, he brushes his fingers along yours when handing you something, as a small sign of affection.

I apologize if there were any grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language^^

Thank you for reading!