#he. is. so. frickin. soft

[em1i2a3]

When The Sun Hits

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/Sentry x Avengers!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bob are starting to test the waters among rampant growing suspicions from the rest of the team (This is a continuation of “Carry The Zero”)

Warnings: AHEM! 18+ Minors DNI! Semi-Spoilers for Thunderbolts just because of Bob’s involvement (there’s no mentioning of the plot from Thunderbolts or anything just character involvement ex. Bucky, Yelena, Alexei, Walker etc.), Fluff, References to Sex and/or Sexual Acts, Bob…Is a warning lol. There’s a little bit of self-depreciation in this, talking bad about oneself, but nothing too extreme on that front.

Smut Warnings: Grinding, Teasing (kind of on the brink of edging?) Unprotected P in V Sex (Wrap it up y’all…Or Y’know…Take precautions at least lol), Oral Sex (fem receiving), Fingering, Spit Swallowing, Handjob, Praise/Worship Kink. Soft/Submissive Bob (if you squint) (Hopefully I didn’t miss anything),

Author’s Note: I got this out as soon as I possibly could, thank you so much for the activity on the last post :) y’all are frickin awesome. I hope you enjoy this new part of this story, because I’m going straight to horny jail *boink boink* lol (also whoever made this gif you deserve all the fucking flowers <3)

Word Count: 16,150

Two weeks later you found yourself on the training mat, slicked with sweat, and out of breath.

You wiped your forearms across your forehead, chest rising and falling as you rolled your shoulders to relieve some tension that seized up your back, steadying your stance again, angling yourself carefully so your sight was trained on both Yelena and Bucky.

“Ready?” Yelena asked, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, her curtain bangs bobbing with each movement, preparing herself to pounce.

“As I’ll ever be,” You muttered, exhaling hard through your nose, tasting the remnants of blood that you had spit out two rounds ago after taking a pretty hard slap to the face. You kept your mind clear though, because if you focused on anything else in that moment, you’d lose miserably, or get hurt again, which was something that you didn’t want at all, especially after you were benched for a week after you injured your shoulder.

It was two against one today, which was entirely unfair, but also part of the challenge. Bucky called it ‘awareness training.’ Yelena called it ‘fun.’

They flanked you like wolves attacking a wounded animal. Yelena moved first, sharp and precise, going for a low sweep with her leg. You jumped and dodged it easily, pivoting to avoid Bucky’s right hook. He was heavier on his feet, but that didn’t mean he was slower in any sense. You ducked beneath his next swing and caught Yelena’s wrist before she could even capitalize on your evasion, using her own momentum to send her stumbling back, giving you some space to breathe.

”Not bad,” She huffed.

”Not done yet,” Bucky growled, before charging at you again. You anticipated him this time, moving back just enough to throw him off rhythm. He came at you with a series of jabs, but you blocked them all, even the ones that were enhanced by his vibranium arm, which surprised you even. You parried with a side kick that landed square against his hip, catching him off balance. This granted you a window to turn back towards Yelena, who had just regained her footing.

She came in full force and you barely had time to register her moves. You raised your arm to shield your face from her fist, feeling the impact ripple along the muscle just below your biceps, before striking in the open space she left, right at her ribs, which made her take in a sharp gasp of air.

You didn’t mean to, but a little satisfied smirk played on your lips, like you had the upper hand, like you were finally going to win…Then Bucky swept your legs out from under you with a move so clean you barely noticed the impact.

You hit the mat with a hard exhale, the wind knocking out of your lungs as your back hit the floor. The fluorescent light shined down into your eyes, almost blinding you, and in a blink, Bucky was standing over you, looking down with his hands on his hip.

”You got cocky…And let your guard down for the third time.” He muttered, with a small grin plastered on his face.

”That…” You breathed, trying to recoup the air you lost from slamming into the mat, “Was a cheap shot,” You added, blinking up at him, seeing the way his hair framed his face as he shook his head at you. Without another word, he extended his hand out to you, and you took it, fingers gripping his forearm as he hoisted you to your feet in one swift movement. You staggered slightly when the room tilted for a split second, your balance thrown from the impact you took that still surged through you with little aftershocks. Bucky steadied you instantly with a firm hand on your elbow, eyes scanning over your face.

”You alright?” He asked, with concern lacing his voice, trying to determine whether or not you needed another med bay visit. You gave him a nod.

”Yeah, yeah, just a bit dizzy from that slam, but I’ll live.” Right before Bucky was going to respond, Yelena cut in.

”Alright you two. Water. Now. Before I pass out from sweating so much.” She didn’t wait for either of you to agree, she just turned toward the bench on the far side of the room, and snatched up three water bottles from the crate nearby, which were already chilled. She tossed one to you and to Bucky, beckoning the both of you to join her in a nice break.

The three of you dropped down onto the bench with soft grunts and groans harmonizing the air, as you dragged the back of your arm across your forehead to wipe the beads of sweat off it. You were beat, that was for certain. You could already feel a new set of bruises forming on your body, especially where you had landed on your ass just moments ago, and that was just another thing you were going to have to tend to for the next few days.

You twisted the cap off your bottle and took three large gulps from it, feeling your chest go cold from how quick you chugged. Your sweat-slicked shirt clung to your spine, but the introduction of the drink was finally managing your body temperature, as your pulse began to slow down, easing the rhythmic thumping that echoed through your ears. You put the cap back on, and placed the bottle against your forehead with a sigh, watching your teammates settle down–Yelena beside you, Bucky on the bench across the way. That’s when you felt it…The subtle tension in the air, the silence that lingered just long enough that it made you suspicious.

Bucky lifted his brows sharply at Yelena, like he was daring her to speak first, like they had been planning on asking you questions all day but didn’t know how to approach the subject. She shook her head just once, staring at him with pointed daggers, almost like she was saying that it was his idea so he should be the one to say it. He let out a defeated sigh.

“So…Uh…” He started, scrunching his nose like the words that were on the tip of his tongue tasted weird in his mouth, “How’s it going with Bob? Y’know…Rooming with him and all.” The question caught you off guard, but the awkwardness from Bucky gave off the sense that he was asking this more because everyone else around him was talking and making up their own theories, and he just wanted to get the answers once and for all.

That didn’t mean the question didn’t spike your heart rate again though. Just the mentioning of Bob made you immediately go on defence mode, not just because of what was going on between the both of you, but because you both wanted this to be private until further notice. Neither of you were prepared for the team to know about your late night rendezvous, or how deep the connection really went. It was your little secret and you preferred to keep it that way.

“It’s okay…” You answered, trying to cover up the stutter in your words, “He’s definitely one of the easier roommates I’ve had to be honest. Super quiet, keeps to himself. It’s great.” You avoided Bucky’s gaze, your eyes focusing on the water bottle in your hands before glancing over at Yelena, who was already squinting at you.

”Super quiet, huh?” She repeated, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards, like she didn’t quite buy what you were putting down. You looked over at Bucky too, now seeing that he was watching you as well with one elbow propped up on his knee so he could rest his chin on his fist.

“Yeah, super quiet, he just reads and sleeps basically, nothing more, nothing less. What’s with this line of questioning? You two roleplaying as detectives or something?” Bucky huffed through his nose, a mix between a laugh and a sigh.

”We wouldn’t have to be detectives if you weren’t so secretive…” You raised your eyebrows at Bucky, attempting to hold onto your fake innocence, trying to make it seem like they weren’t somehow onto you, even though there was no possible way they could know anything that was going on in your shared room…Not unless there were cameras, but that was definitely not the case…Because you looked for them.

“Me? Secretive? I don’t understand how I’m being secretive, I’m answering your questions, aren’t I?” Yelena made a small humming sound beside you, sipping from her water bottle, before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

”Okay then, Miss Transparency…” She started, setting the bottle on the bench gently, “What about the window?” You froze, and instantly your brain spiraled with questions on how the hell she found out about the window. You kept your cool on the outside, while the rest of your internal organs were twisting and malfunctioning on the inside trying to figure out how you were going to get yourself out of this one.

”What window?” You asked.

”The one in your room,” Yelena responded, leaning forward just a little bit to crowd your space, “Maintenance said you put in a request to fix it three days ago because there was a crack in the glass. He said it looked like someone took a sledge hammer to it. Kinda weird, yeah?” You blinked at Yelena, keeping your expression blank, like you were thinking.

“Ohhhh…That window.” You said, as if you had just remembered what she was talking about. You waved your hand vaguely, letting out a shaky laugh, which did absolutely nothing to cover the tension that began to seep through your muscles, “Yeah, no, it’s not that weird. I, uh…Accidently pushed my dresser drawer closed a little too hard and the wood slammed into the glass, kind of a freak accident if you ask me.” Yelena stared at you flatly, watching you flail while trying to come up with something believable off the top of your head. If you had time to actually prepare for the grilling you would’ve at least thought of something as back up, but this was just totally unexpected.

It’s not like you could’ve told them the truth anyways, because it just wouldn’t have sounded good, and it would’ve just put Bob under the spotlight once again, and he didn’t deserve that at all. Not when he was trying so hard to get along with everyone, which he was doing very well at until this point at least.

So you just laughed it off again, muttering something about needing to be more careful, before tipping the bottle of water to your lips to shut yourself up.

But your mind was already drifting back to that night, and you couldn’t stop it.

——————

Four nights ago was movie night.

Alexei had insisted on it—insisted being the operative word, because no one had really agreed to it in the first place.

He said movie nights were a “sacred ritual” from his youth, a tradition that brought people together, made them stronger, and unified the soul. And when someone offhandedly mentioned that Bucky had never seen Rocky IV, that sealed everyone’s fate.

“It is masterpiece,” Alexei declared, standing in the center of the living room with the case held high like a relic. You were surprised that he even had a DVD of it, but then again he had mentioned in passing it was one of his favourite movies.

“American propaganda, yes, but still…Very good representation.” He exclaimed, moving around the living room to locate the video player, as you all watched him.

So Rocky IV became the night’s reluctant feature, and any protests were quickly steamrolled under his booming enthusiasm.

The lights were off, the curtains were drawn, and the only glow in the room came from the TV screen—icy blue and gunmetal gray as the film’s opening credits began to roll. Everyone had found their spots. Yelena curled into one corner of the sectional while Walker was on the other, Bucky sat low in a beanbag chair with his arms crossed, Alexei sat right in front of the television with the reverence of a man watching live theatre…

And then there was you.

You tucked yourself into the corner of the couch with a blanket draped on top of you, leaning against a pillow for support because your shoulder was still giving you a little bit of trouble. Bob was beside you, but he was not close enough to raise suspicion as the both of you had separate blankets and weren’t really touching at all…Not yet, at least.

Somewhere near the halfway point of the movie–just after Rocky’s training montage–Bob shifted slightly beside you, adjusting himself with a slight turn of his hips. It wasn’t a big move, but it was noticeable enough to draw your eyes to him, then you saw his hand sliding beneath his blanket ever so slowly, paying attention to the others in the room, hoping that none of them would turn around.

Even through the terrible lighting you could see him beginning to flush, his pale skin becoming a gentle hue of pink which spread all the way down to the collar of pale green sweater, and below it. You couldn’t help but smirk at the sight, seeing how he tried to keep his profile composed, as he moved his hand with quiet purpose, sliding beneath your blanket in one quick movement, knowing that once he was under there nobody would know any better what was happening.

His fingers found your thigh beneath the covering, completely bare for him because of the flannel shorts you were wearing. The first touch was delicate, almost like it wasn’t even there, though you could feel the heat radiating off his skin as the pads of his fingers ghosted over the wide plane of your flesh. He was waiting for you to pull away, to signal to him you didn’t want him to do this here, but when that moment didn’t come, his hand finally settled against you.

He took everything slow, and moved with such care and purpose that you felt like you were going to melt into the sofa . His palm molded gently to the outside of your thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles, drawing goosebumps up to the surface of your skin. The touch wasn’t lewd, nor needy…It was intimate in one of the simplest ways possible. Just the grounding press of his hand against you, soaking up the heat of your body, letting it mingle with his own.

You felt your pulse begin to hammer in your ears, and your eyes flickered to the rest of the team, checking if they were still transfixed by whatever was happening in the movie, which they were. Nobody was looking. So you took this as an opportunity for yourself to make a move now too.

It was a gentle shift, just enough to let your blanket drape a little farther over the space between the both of you, until it overlapped with his. You ripped a page out of Bob’s book and slipped your hand beneath the threshold of the covering, before moving it towards him with the same stealthy patience he had just moments ago.

You found his thigh easily, resting your hand against the soft checker-patterned sleep pants he wore. The fabric was light and thin enough to allow you to feel every flex and shift of muscle beneath your touch, the way it twitched at first contact and relaxed when you dragged your palm against it. He cleared his throat gently, trying to mask the noise that was about to slip out of his throat unwillingly.

His thumb on your thigh had stilled completely in those moments, like you had pulled the plug on all his motor functions by just settling your hand on him in the most gentle way possible. Over the past week of being holed up together during your Bucky mandated break from training, you had learned that gentleness was the key thing that unraveled Bob faster than anything else ever could.

Your fingers slowly dragged upward with the lightest graze over the thin fabric, tracing the line of muscle you could feel there. You didn’t press hard, there was no need to, because you could already feel that he was burning under your palm, coming undone, shifting in his seat, like he wanted to get closer to you but couldn’t.

He was trying so hard not to breathe loudly, or to draw attention to himself by making an unnatural noise. His hand tightened on your thigh, giving it a small squeeze, like he was pleading for you to continue, but for you to also take it easy on him because he didn’t know how much he was going to be able to handle. He felt like he was going to turn into a puddle on the sofa, and the sweating and flushing that he was doing was only a prelude to that. You could feel the tension in his body, the way it practically vibrated through him, and it only made you want to touch him more.

You smoothed your thumb over the inside of his thigh, just above the knee, where he flinched. He sucked in a breath and immediately turned it into a cough, low and forced, like he was trying to dislodge something that was stuck in his throat–even though you knew it was just him trying to stifle a sound that he didn’t dare let out–squeezing your thigh again like it was anchoring him to whatever stability he had left.

You didn’t need more than this. You just enjoyed every morsel of connection you got from him, and revelled in the excitement that coursed through your veins from the small things you learned about him, like how easy he was to read, or how flustered he got from such little contact. Or how touch-starved he was despite all the late nights and quiet mornings you two were sharing up until this point. He was learning how to let himself go, but that didn’t mean he was used to it just yet.

By the time the end credits rolled and Alexei stood to stretch with a complaint about how Americans don’t know when to end a movie, Bob was already clawing at the opportunity to make his grand escape. His hand left your thigh, and reached for his blanket–not to fold it, not to hold it when he stood–but to clutch it, to replicate the grip he had on your skin moments before. You slowly removed your hand from him as well, making sure you discreetly brought it back into your area without anyone noticing.

Every motion he did was methodical, almost exaggerated in its effort to present itself as casual, like the both of you weren’t just touching each other's thighs beneath your communal blankets. You watched from the corner of your eye as Bob adjusted the covering over his lip, gripping the hem carefully as he shifted on the couch, leaning slightly forward.

He was shielding himself.

You could tell by the blush that began to deepen around his neck, and the way he couldn’t seem to look at anyone in the room–not even you–that he was trying very hard not to be obvious about the problem that was currently occurring below his waist. The one you had caused with just the gentle stroking of his thigh.

The realization made you heat up, but also smirk.

”I’m gonna…Uh…” Bob cleared his throat, attempting to cover up the way his words buckled under his voice “Head to my room…Start getting ready for bed and stuff, I had a good book I was getting into before…C-Coming to watch the movie.” He added, standing from the couch, keeping the blanket bunched in front of him with a practiced sort of shuffle that only he could execute with pure awkwardness. He said a vague goodnight and everyone responded in their own little way, as he moved towards the corridor that led to the makeshift bedrooms.

Your eyes followed his movements, watching when he made it out of everyone’s line of sight. He turned around, knowing that your eyes were already on him and mouthed a very light “please hurry,” before rushing down the hallway to seek refuge in the privacy of your room.

You waited exactly thirty seconds, which was long enough for the heat in your limbs to settle so when you stood up you didn’t have shaky legs, or draw attention to any of your actions, even though nobody was really paying attention in general.

Yelena was half-sleep, eyes barely open while she nursed what was left of her electrolytes. Walker had his head tilted back, and was snoring loudly. Bucky was sprawled out in the beanbag chair, and Alexei was still rambling, only now it was about how Ivan Drago’s story in Rocky is just misunderstood. So you took the opportunity to stand, and let out an exaggerated yawn, rubbing your eyes for added effect.

”Think I’m also going to head to bed too. I’m exhausted.” You murmured, which earned a small wave from Yelena, a grunt of acknowledgment from Bucky, and a pause from Alexei.

”Did you not like the movie?” He asked, and you smirked.

”Yes of course I liked it, I’ve just seen it a few too many times, but tomorrow you can give me the footnotes on how misunderstood Drago’s story is, for now though I’m off to bed.” He gave you a wide smile, and as you moved away from the living room you could hear him mumble something about you actually being interested in what he had to say.

You quickly made your way down the hall, feeling your heart racing as you made your way towards the room. You tried your best to not make yourself look suspicious but the anticipation was eating you up on the inside.

The second you entered your shared quarters and closed the door behind you, you felt it–that shift in the air, like the moment right before lightning strikes a tree, the static that ebbs and flows through the atmosphere, like a warning to those who are around. The only light that glowed in the space was the desk lamp, which casted golden shapes across the walls, and once you locked the door and turned around, your eyes fell on him.

Bob stood by his bed, the blanket was long discarded, and his sweater was removed, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt. His hands were fidgeting uselessly with the tie of his sleep pants, and when his eyes fell on you it was like he lost all the thoughts that were running through his head. The flush of pink on his cheeks hadn’t faded, if anything it had gotten worse between the time he left the couch and now, like the warmth had fully rooted inside him.

He didn’t say anything right away, he just opened his arms slightly, silently offering himself to you.

In a few quick steps, you crossed the room, taking up the space between his arms, pressing your hands gently to his chest, feeling the way his heart galloped beneath your palm. He cupped your elbows first, tentative and shy, looking down at you with those shimmering blue eyes that you had come to fawn over in secret, before letting his hands slide down to your wrists. You gave him a soft smile, tilting your head back a bit so he could lean forward to kiss you.

His mouth brushed yours once–tentative and silent, like he was asking a question–then again, with more confidence when you didn’t pull away, before fully pressing his mouth to yours. He kissed you like he thought he would never get the chance to do it again. Like he was memorizing the shape of your lips, or the way you sighed into him like you’d been holding your breath for hours while waiting for this moment to come. His hands left your wrists, you slid up to your jaw, the tips of his thumbs barely grazing the corners of your mouth

And you melted into him.

You’d been doing this dance for the past few nights now–experiencing these careful, burning moments together that never quite tipped over the edge–and neither of you seemed to mind. You didn’t need the act of sex to feel intimate with him, even though you still had those thoughts that raced through you from time to time.

Every night you got to learn something new about him–how his breathing changed when you kissed his throat, how the muscles in his stomach twitched when you trailed your fingers ever so slowly under the hem of his shirt, and how he arched subtly into your touch like he was too afraid to vocalize that he wanted more.

It was explorative, patient, and gentle, and that’s all the both of you needed to have a good time.

The kiss continued to deepen, as his lips parted for you, letting your tongue through the threshold. He tasted like fresh breath mints, like he had swallowed a few before you came into the room, which wasn’t an out of place thought at all–he typically did small things like that.

His hands skimmed down your neck, and over your shoulders, travelling down to your hips to anchor himself against you. He put a little more pressure into the kiss, feeling your body press flush into his, causing a small gasp to escape and vibrate against your lips from him. He pulled back for a moment, as your arms slid around his neck, guiding him down even more so he could bury his face briefly into your shoulder. He breathed in deeply, letting his lungs fill with the various scents that radiated off of you– the vanilla from your shampoo, the lavender from your perfume, and the sage that constantly stayed on all of your clothes in general–before exhaling shakily, tugging you closer to him.

He guided you backward with a quiet sort of urgency.

”Come here,” He whispered, the words came out so softly it barely made it past his lips.

He led you to his bed, with his hand pressed low at your back, fingers splayed out like it was steadying the both of you. When the backs of your legs met the edge of the mattress you let yourself sit, eyes still locked on his. He was still watching you closely, like you were ethereal, something that shouldn’t exist for him.

You bit your bottom lip, feeling how swollen it was just from the one kiss that you got, and brought your fingers to the hem of your shirt, slipping them under. Bob felt his chest heave for a moment, the beating of his heart only becoming more frantic, as he hung on your movements like it was a sacred text.

You peeled the top off slowly, revealing the curve of your waist, your chest, your shoulders in small increments–it was more than he’d ever seen at once from you. Once you riddled yourself of the article of clothing you threw it to the side, which left you in just a plain white, cotton bra.

Bob’s gaze swept over you modestly, almost like he was too shy to linger on one part of you for too long, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You saw the way he struggled to swallow for a moment, gulping loudly from the way his throat closed from all the tension that was building up in the room, then you saw his hands move down to the hem of his own shirt.

He awkwardly shimmied out of the fabric, tugging it over his head, messing up his light brown mane of hair in the proces. You could feel your chest tighten, and your mouth dry up, seeing the expanse of skin that was exposed to you.

It was the first time he’d allow you to see him like this.

And god–he was beautiful.

His chest was broad and lean. He was dusted with freckles that went across his shoulders and collarbones, like they were constellations begging to be traced. There were a few scars too–old and pale, stretched and softened with time, because they certainly weren’t fresh. You wondered about each of them. Not necessarily the stories, but how they shaped him as the person you were falling for more and more every day.

He was flushed from neck to navel, the pink hue blossoming over his ribs and all the way up to his ears. His arms hung at his sides for a moment, allowing you to drink in the image, even though he was visibly curling in on himself a bit. You reached out for him, beckoning for him to come closer to you, watching as he sheepishly moved into your space now. Your fingers skimmed gently over his ribs, dragging slowly up the plane of his stomach and across the center of his chest. You looked up at him with a smile plastered on your lips

“You’re breathtaking Bob…” You whispered, seeing the way his eyes softened, hearing the sincerity that laced your voice when the compliment fell from you. He felt lightheaded from it, as you leaned in to kiss the skin just above his navel, your smile shadowing against the flesh.

“I think I’m gonna die.” He responded, choking on his own breaths.

”Now, now…Don’t die yet…You haven’t kissed me again.” That is what unraveled him, seeing you pull away from his stomach, looking up at him with those lust filled eyes that he had seen night after night.

He leaned down slowly this time, and when your lips met, it was warmer than before, like a supernova had exploded between the both of you. It started soft, like the last one, but it built. His mouth moved over yours with a kind of reverence that made your toes curl into the carpet beneath you. His hands skimmed down your sides, thumbs brushing along the soft slope of your waist as he kissed you deeper.

Then one hand drifted lower, tracing over your outer thigh. He paused just for a second to look at you, and when you gave the smallest nod, he gently urged you backward.

You let him guide you down until you back pressed into the mattress as he hovered above you, bracing himself on one elbow beside your head while the other stayed on your thigh, as you bracketed his hips with your legs. You could feel how hard he was trying to rein himself in, watching his shoulders tense when you brought him closer to you.

”A-Are you sure this is okay?” He whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours in the thin space between you.

”Bob,” You murmured, tracing your fingers along the freckles on his collarbone, “If I wasn’t sure, I would tell you.” His eyes fluttered shut for a beat, the words sinking into him like a weighted blanket, before he leaned forward to kiss you again, savouring the contact.

You felt the way he trembled just slightly above you, the way he braced so carefully against his arm, like he was scared of putting too much weight on you, or doing something wrong. His lips dragged over yours, warm and open, letting you taste the cool mint again as his tongue flicked out to meet yours when you deepened the kiss.

His breath stuttered as he exhaled sharply through his nose, attempting to keep up, but you could feel how overwhelmed he was already. Your hands slid over his back, fingers tracing along the soft lines of his muscles beneath skin that practically burned beneath your touch. You felt every ripple, every twitch of control that he tried to maintain, and the thought of it–of him holding himself back for you–made you want to pull him even closer.

He groaned softly against your mouth, almost like it was bordering on a whimper.

“Jesus…You feel so good,” He whispered suddenly, like he couldn’t keep it in, like it was something he had been wanting to say all week and it finally burst free. His voice cracked slightly with the confession, and his cheeks burned as he buried his face against your jaw to hide the heat crawling up his neck, realizing how stupid it must’ve sounded.

”S-Sorry, I just…I just-“ You hushed him for a moment, slipping your hand up his back slowly before curling your fingers into his hair.

”Bob…Don’t apologize. You feel good against me too.” You had barely let the words settle between the both of you, when you hooked your legs a little tighter around his waist and gently guided his hips closer to yours.

Bob’s breath caught in his throat.

His jaw slackening and his lips parting in tandem with one another, as his eyes locked onto yours like he was trying to decipher something written across your irises. You could see it in his face–the unraveling, the awe, the absolute vulnerability of someone who wasn’t used to being wanted like this. And yet, he was burning from the inside out.

“What…What are you doing?” He asked, his voice thin and shaky.

Instead of answering, you ground your hips up against him in one slow, aching press.

The noise he made was soft and strangled, caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan. His eyes fluttered shut for half a second, then snapped open again, and you were able to see the dazed glassiness that shimmered over them. You could see the way the new sensation tore through him, as a full-body tremor made his shoulders tense and his thighs flinch.

He didn’t move at first–he couldn’t. But when you tugged gently on the back of his hair and pressed your lips to his neck, he let go.

His hips rocked forward, not with force but with aching, desperate need, mirroring the movement you’d given him. Your bodies slotted together in a slow, tender rhythm, each motion sending a wave of heat in your abdomen. It wasn’t frenzied or rough—it was exploratory, intoxicating, and so deeply charged you felt like your bones were shaking.

You kissed your way up his neck, feeling his pulse jump under your lips. His hand was trembling against your thigh, while the other one gripped the duvet beside your head. You felt the shudder in his breath again, and the way his hips pressed a little harder this time, a little more urgently. You could feel the outline of him pushing against the thin fabric of your cotton shorts, and it left you breathless, just the thought of being so close almost made your heart stop.

The moment swelled around you–timeless, heavy, and sacred.

Then your fingers trailed down, slow as molasses, brushing over his abdomen and dipping lower, finding the waistband of his sleep pants.

The reaction was instantaneous.

His entire body went rigid, and his eyes snapped open, bright and wide—and in that split second, you saw it. That flicker of gold in his irises. It glinted like sunlit honey, like lightning flashing beneath the surface of a lake.

Then–CRACK.

A sharp, unnatural noise split into the room, and both your heads jerked toward the window, seeing the fracture that had webbed across the glass. It kind of looked similar to when a rock hits a windshield at full speed, only there was a larger impact point. You both blinked at the damage, before your eyes returned to his, seeing that the gold was gone, and he was back to his normal shimmering blue irises that you were enamoured by.

His mouth moved to speak, but no sound came out, then he looked down at himself, and froze. You followed his gaze, seeing a wet spot blooming across the front of his pants.

Then everything happened all at once.

He scrambled off of you, nearly toppling sideways off the bed in the process, and you sat up immediately, reaching for him.

”Bob…Hey…” You said, trying to get him to calm down a bit, but he was already moving.

”Crap…I’m-I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked, as he grabbed his shirt off the floor, pulling it on with frantic hands like he needed to shield himself from you, from the world, from his own embarrassment that floated up into his chest, causing him to shake a bit. He tried to cover up the wet patch as his skin turned a cherry red, spreading all the way over his face and neck. He opened his drawer so fast that it nearly flew off the track as he collected the first pair of boxers and sleep pants that he could find.

“Bob, it’s alright.” You murmured, watching him rush towards the door,

”I-I just…I need…I just need a second.” He whispered before bolting out the door so he could tend to himself in the privacy of the bathroom.

You sat on his bed, still breathless from the closeness, from the way his body had moved against yours, and from the crack in the damn window. But mostly, from the way he looked when he realized what had happened—like the sky had fallen on him. Your heart was aching in the way he reacted, and now that you were sitting alone everything felt amplified.

Your eyes drifted to the window again, staring at the crack that shimmered faintly beneath the golden wash of the lamp–splintering like lightning. Curiosity pulled you from the bed, as you shuffled closer to it, wanting to get a better look.

The fracture was intricate, jagged at the center with spider web veins splitting outward like a slow explosion. You reached up, hovering your hand in front of it.

No air came through, no whistling of wind, and no change in temperature.

You furrowed your brow and pressed your palm against the surface, feeling the cool solidity of the glass. It didn’t flex, nor did it crack even more with the pressure you placed on it, which made you even more perplexed.

You stepped back slightly, squinting at the window. It definitely wasn’t a regular one, it was industrial, reinforced, maybe even bulletproof. The thought made your lips part a little, as you tried to reconcile the softness of Bob–the sweet, awkward, blushing man who mouthed please hurry to you because he wanted to be so close–with the person who had just cracked fortified glass because he was so overwhelmed by your touch.

You huffed out a breath that was caught between awe and amusement, as you continued to stare at the jagged impact, until you saw movement in the glass, noticing Bob trying to sneak in, like you wouldn’t see him. You turned on your heels.

He stood against the door, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as you looked him over. He had changed into navy blue sleep pants, and his hair was clinging to his forehead–you assumed it was from him splashing water on his face to freshen up. He was holding onto a bundle of clothes–the ones he had changed out of–as his eyes scanned over you before dating away. You glanced down at yourself, suddenly remembering that you were shirtless, standing in your bra still.

His face flushed again, but this time it was threaded with much more than just embarrassment. There was remorse in there, maybe even a little bit of fear, like he was worried that you wouldn’t look at him the same because of what happened.

“I…” He started, voice hoarse, “…I’m sorry. Again. I didn’t mean to just…Leave like that, I just–” He swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t want you to see me like that. Or, I mean–you did, I guess, but–God.” He laughed breathlessly, eyes squeezed shut for a second. “I’m making this worse.” You shook your head gently, cutting him off before he spiraled any further.

“It’s okay Bob…Trust me you don’t have to apologize.” You said quietly, stretched out a hand towards him, “Now, come over here please.” Bob glanced down at the gesture, returning his gaze back up at you, hesitating for only a second before stepping forward, dropping the bundle of clothes on the floor. His movements were so timid, like a wounded animal coming over to look at the mess it made.

When he was close enough you leaned forward and wrapped your hand around his wrist. His eyes were wide and glistening as you tugged him toward you even more, his lashes trembling with the weight of remorse. Not just for bolting from the room or leaving you half-dressed and flushed on his bed, but for losing control…For being too much.

“I see those cogs turning in your head. Your brows are furrowing. Stop thinking for a second, and just look at me Bob.” You said, breaking through the thoughts that kept racing through his head, wrapping your arms around his waist. Bob let out a soft sigh, bringing his gaze down to yours. His hands hovered over your back for a moment before slowly coming to rest against your skin, holding onto you like he was afraid you were going to crack.

“…I truly didn’t mean to do that…” He murmured, motioning to the window, “I didn’t even think about it...It just happened.” You turned slightly in his arms, glancing back at the window for a split second, then returning your gaze back to him. You tilted your head up, brushing your lips softly against the underside of his jaw, feeling the beginnings of stubble.

”Pretty sure it’s bulletproof glass too, by the way.” He blinked down at you, his cheeks flushing a deeper red, confused at the statement, and at the way you were smirking up at him, “I must’ve really gotten you going.” You added, trying to lighten the mood. A groan caught in his throat.

”Please…Don’t say that.” He whispered under his breath.

”Why not? It’s kind of hot.” Bob’s eyebrows raised at your comment, letting out a quiet laugh–embarrassed, and flustered, but undeniably touched by the way you were trying to make light of the situation.

”You know…I think you should actually be a little freaked out by this at least,” He stated gently, pulling back just a little bit so the both of you could comfortably look at each other, “I mean…We didn’t even…Do anything and I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, as he ran his hands along your back, “I’m just saying if I lost that much control just f-from grinding against you, what’s going to happen when we have sex?” He added, his voice laced with worry. You traced your fingers along his spine as you listened, feeling his chest rising and falling against you, the panic simmering underneath all the tension in his muscles. You leaned into him a bit more.

”Well…You don’t really use your powers all that much, Bob.” He raised his eyebrows at you, surprised by what you were possibly suggesting. You continued, gently brushing your thumbs along the hem of his shirt.

“Maybe that’s part of the problem. You’ve been bottling all that energy up without giving yourself a way to release it. Maybe you need to exhaust your powers a little–practice, push yourself in a safe space so you can figure out where the edges are. Then maybe…” You paused mid-sentence, reaching up to him to push his hair off his forehead, “You won’t have to worry about breaking any more windows.” He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling your fingertips trailing down the side of his face to hold his jaw.

“Or…” You added thoughtfully, “We could try some small exercises together. I know there are grounding techniques for people with telekinesis or energy-based mutations–things to help hone it and redirect it before it builds up too much.”

Bob was staring at you now like you were the only stable piece of land in a world that kept shaking under his feet. You ran your thumb along the slight roughness of his jaw, taking in the warmth of his skin.

“Either way,” You said, “We can figure it out together.”

His breath caught in his throat.

“Together,” He repeated, almost like he was testing the weight of the suggestion in his mouth, making sure it was real. His hands gripped you just a little tighter, like he didn’t want to let go, admiring the fact that you were even sticking it out with him.

“And maybe next time,” You whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to the corner of his mouth, “You’ll crack something a little less expensive.”

That made him laugh for real this time–a breathy, bashful sound as he rested his forehead against yours. “No more windows,” He whispered. “I promise.” You swayed in your spot for a moment relishing in the silence, as your hearts thudded against each other like it shared the same rhythm.

“…Maybe just the bedframe,” He mumbled a second later–so quietly you almost missed it.

There was a pause.

Then his eyes went wide, his entire face lighting up scarlet as the implication hit him a split second too late. “Oh my god,” He breathed, “I didn’t mean—shit—I mean I did but I—”

You broke into laughter, the sound bursting out of you like sunlight, catching yourself against his chest as your shoulders shook. “Robert Reynolds,” You gasped through your giggles, “I didn’t take you as a person to make a sex joke like that…I like it.”

——————

Yelena snapped her fingers in front of your face.

”Helloooo? Earth to Y/N…You’ve been zoned out for like ten minutes, are you concussed or something?” You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your trance, noticing your palms were sweaty, and your pulse was pounding in your head.

”Sorry…I’m fine, I was just thinking about that last round in my head. Trying to figure out how I let my ass hit the mat again.” You lied, grabbing your water bottle, attempting to cool yourself down.

”Uh-huh…” Yelena muttered, clearly not buying it.

Bucky was watching you as well, his expression unreadable as usual, his elbow still propped on his knee. His eyes were sharper now, completely focused.

”Maybe we should wrap it up for the day, I’ve got to go pick up a few things from my old apartment anyways, the renters are getting mad that I haven’t swung by yet.” You looked over at Yelena, who stretched her legs out with a low groan.

“Alright, that sounds fine to me.” She responded, getting up from the bench, cracking her neck before walking to the lockers, leaving you and Bucky alone. You let out a soft exhale, grateful that the plug had been pulled. You were too distracted to go for another round anyways.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” You glanced up at Bucky, your eyes meeting his gaze. There was no judgement in his face, just quiet concern. You nodded.

”Yeah, I promise, I just spaced out.” He watched you for just a moment longer, like he was trying to see if you had any tells of a lie.

”Alright,” He said, turning to grab his towel from the bench, “But if you ever want to talk, you know where I am.” You gave him a soft smile.

”Thanks, Buck.” He lingered for a second longer, then gave a quick salute and headed off after Yelena, leaving you alone. You stayed on the bench for a few minutes, gathering your thoughts and swatting around the brain fog that clouded your mind, before finally standing, feeling your muscles groan in protest.

You collected your things and caught a quick shower before making your way back to your room, expecting to divulge the line of questioning that Yelena had for you to Bob, but when you opened the door he wasn’t there. Your brows furrowed in disappointment as you stepped into the room, noticing a little note on his bed. You dropped your bag on the floor, picking up the scrap piece of paper that had his messy handwriting scrawled on it.

“Meet me on the roof, wear a sweater.” You were confused about the sweater part, but you still dug around for one, slipping it over your head once you found one that wasn’t already worn.

———

The rooftop greeted you with silence, except for the low hum of wind and the muffled buzz of distant traffic below. You stepped out slowly, your sweater wrapped tight around your arms, the door clicking shut behind you.

Bob was already there, standing near the edge, hunched slightly, hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders curled in like he was bracing against the cold—or maybe against himself. The soft yellow glow from the rooftop security lights carved gentle shadows across his back, catching in his wind blown hair.

“You okay?” You called out, walking towards him, gaining his attention instantly. A small smile came up on his lips, as he wrung his hands together, like he was excited about something.

“I am now,” He responded, meeting you halfway. There was something different about him tonight, he still had that shy uncertainty about him, but it was like he was pushing it off a bit, replacing it with something more…Confident, “I wanted to show you something, if that’s alright of course.” He added stepping into your space, now close enough that his breath was fanning over your face. You tilted your head at him, squinting playfully.

”Are you going to crack all the windows from up here?” Bob let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking his head as a pink flush creeped up the sides of his neck.

”I promised you I wouldn’t break any more windows, and I will keep my word.” Before you could press further, he stepped closer, closing the last inch of space between you, wrapping his arms tightly around your back. It wasn’t hurried or anything, just grounding, and it was done with intention. You inhaled against his chest, the scent of cold air and warm cotton surrounding you as he ducked his head and pressed a kiss to your lips–soft, and gentle, yet brimming with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He pulled back for one moment, before adding one more peck against your lips, a smile draped across his mouth.

His arms hadn’t loosened around you, and you could feel the steady thumping of his heart under your hands where they rested against his chest.

”Okay…” You murmured, brows lifting at him, feeling your cheeks growing hot under his stare, and from the gentle kiss he had given you, “Now you really need to tell me what’s got you in such a chipper mood. You’re smiling like you’ve got a secret, and it’s starting to freak me out.” Bob’s grin widened–shy, crooked, but deeply earnest. You squinted at him a bit, catching little flecks of gold sparkling in the blues of his eyes.

”Just hold still,” He whispered, voice hushed and warm, “And I’ll show you.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he tightened his arms around you, like he was locking you into place against his chest.

Then you felt it.

A strange, delicate lift in your stomach, similar to how it feels when you’re descending on a roller coaster, only just a little more tolerable. The pressure in your knees disappeared, your weight lessened…And your boots weren’t on the rooftop anymore.

”Bob…?” You said, your voice filling with panic.

”Shh, I’ve got you,” He murmured, eyes fixating on yours, “Just trust me.” He whispered. You took in a sharp breath, and nodded. The movement wasn’t fast or jarring. It felt like being exhaled by the Earth–like rising through a warm, invisible current. The wind tugged gently at your sweater, and your breath caught in your throat as you instinctively brought yourself even closer to him, not daring to look down to see how high up you were.

“Holy shit Bob, we’re flying…” You said, your voice shaking, caught between fear and awe.

”Well technically I’m flying, and you’re just one of my lucky passengers. My first and only to be exact.” He corrected jokingly, you smirked at him, continuing to look over his face. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, as the air around you thickened, warming against your cheeks despite the altitude change. You felt like you were suspended in a dream–held against him, hundreds of feet off the ground, with only starlight above you, and a glittering city below.

“How does it feel?” You asked softly, seeing Bob blink down at you, eyes soft and uncertain, “To have all this power…” You added, your hand slowly unraveling from holding onto his hoodie, splaying it across his chest instead, rubbing along the warmth with a soft smile draped on your lips, “To be able to do this–to lift me off the ground, to break windows without touching them, to float above the world like it’s nothing…” The way you looked up at him–half curious, half lust driven–made something buzz in his bloodstream, something golden and chaotic, and desperate for attention as he felt your fingers trailing up the side of his neck.

Bob swallowed thickly, his arms tightening around your waist even more, his breath hitching as he let out a faint nervous laugh before glancing down at you, seeing your face glowing softly from the city lights that reflected in your eyes.

”It’s…Intense. I constantly have this noise in my head, like it’s trying to break out, and I’m always on edge trying to suppress it…But when you’re around, and you’re able to block it…I have those moments of peace, and I love it…So much Y/N.” He emphasized, as your fingers curled gently into the collar of his hoodie, while your other hand cupped his jaw, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

”You know…I wish you could see yourself the way I do,” You whispered, your voice nearly lost in the hush of the night, “The way you handle everything, the way you care about being gentle, the way you hold back even when you could easily just let go…” You went on, looking up at him with such admiration it made him gulp down the lump that was forming in his throat, “You’re just incredible Bob…And I wish you believed that more often.” Bob’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, like he needed to steady himself from the weight of your words, and when he opened them again, they shimmered with something so raw and fragile it made your heart ache.

“No one���s ever said anything like that to me before,” He laughed softly, but there was no humor in it, just disbelief. “It feels like…You’re seeing someone I want to be. Someone I wish I was.” You reached up with your other hand now, pressing it against his cheek.

”You already are.” You whispered, a soft smile coming up onto your lips, as your eyes trailed over his face.

Bob leaned forward, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath warming your skin as it mingled with the air that kissed your face. For a long moment, he didn’t speak, he just held you close, taking in the night for what it was giving him so far. His fingers twitched against your lower back, like he was trying to figure out what he was going to say next.

“Can I ask you something…Kind of dumb?” Your lips quirked at his words, blinking up at him.

”There’s no dumb questions…Go ahead and ask.” He let out a nervous breath of a laugh, pulling his forehead off yours so he could get a better look at you, shaking his head a bit as if he was trying to psych himself up.

”I’ve been…Thinking for the past couple of days…And if it’s too soon or too much just–just tell me okay? I can handle it, I promise.” He started, stuttering through his words.

”Okay, “ You whispered, already feeling your heart climbing into your throat, seeing the way he looked at you with such hope, terror, and utter sincerity. He glanced away for a second, feeling his cheeks flushing hot.

“I was wondering if maybe–if it’s something you’d want–if I could, um…” He cleared his throat, then bit the inside of his cheek, finally whispering, “If I could make love to you tonight.” When the words fell from his mouth it felt like the sky was going to split open and swallow him whole, but he meant every word he said, and you could tell it was something that he wanted to make sure you wanted as well.

”I’ve been wanting to ask that for a while now, but I didn’t want to ruin anything or scare you off, or…” His voice faded, as he stopped himself from embarrassing himself any further, “God, I sound like an idiot.” He whispered. You shook your head, cradling his face in your hands, gently tilting his head down so you could look into those soft blue eyes.

”Bob…” You whispered, “You don’t sound like an idiot at all…You sound like someone who cares about me. A lot.” His lips parted like he wanted to protest, but the words never came. You leaned in, brushing your nose against his, “And that’s never something to be ashamed of.” His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, as he trembled from the gust of wind that blew by the both of you, and from the nerves that prickled throughout his body.

”I just…” He started, swallowing another lump that began to form in his throat, feeling like he was on the brink of tears, “I’ve never done it like this before…Where it actually means something…Where I feel…So much that it scares the crap out of me.” You pressed your lips together tightly, removing one of your hands from his face.

”Hold me with one arm, I want you to give me one of your hands.” You instructed, and he obliged immediately, keeping you flush against him and giving you his other hand like you requested. You took it and brought it to your chest, laying it gently over your heart.

”Do you feel that?” You whispered, watching him nod slowly, his palm splaying flat over the pounding rhythm the shook the cavity of your chest, “That’s how I feel when I look at you…When you smile at me, when you hold me…When you ask me things like this, with all these nerves going through you…And that’s also how I’m going to feel when we make love tonight.” You added, feeling Bob’s breath hitch in his throat, and for a second he didn’t move. You thought you put him into shock, but then his fingers curled ever so slightly against your skin, like he was tethering himself to you.

”I wanna be good for you.” He replied, his voice breaking around the edges, “I want to be everything you deserve…I want to take my time…I want to see what you look like when you fall apart because of me, and I want to memorize every sound you make and every place you like to be touched and–and I want to hold you through all of it.” Your eyes softened at his words, feeling your heart folding at the edges from the way he said it with such trembling devotion, like he was offering you everything he had without knowing if it would be enough for you.

”I wouldn’t want it any other way Bob…” He breathed out slowly like he’d been holding it for minutes, like your answer reached someplace deep inside him he didn’t know was waiting to be filled. A small, shaky smile tugged at his lips.

“Okay,” He whispered. “Okay.”

You felt his arms shift, the weight of the wind returning to your skin, and together—slow and gentle—you began to drift back down. The city lights rose to meet you, the rooftop coming back into focus beneath your boots. He didn’t let go. Not even once. His hand stayed tucked between your shoulder blades, warm and steady, like he didn’t trust gravity alone to carry you safely.

The moment your feet touched solid ground again, you didn’t speak. You just stood there for a second, forehead still brushing his, eyes locked and dazed with something fragile and full and beautiful. And then you kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed–it wasn’t even desperate…It was just full. Full of promise. Of understanding. Of anticipation humming low in both your bellies. His hand cupped the side of your face so delicately it made your knees weaken, and when he pulled back, you didn’t have to say a word. You just reached for his fingers and laced yours through them.

“Come inside with me,” You said quietly.

And he followed instantly.

————

You left the light on before you went up to the roof, so when the both of you stepped into your shared quarters, the soft yellow hue of the lamp greeted you with open arms and warmed your skin almost instantly.

Bob closed the door behind him with a soft click, the quiet thud echoing between your beds like a held breath. You stepped into the space between them, turning to face him slowly, your hands sliding up to push your hair from your face. His eyes followed the motion, catching every shift of your body like he didn’t want to miss a second, his fingers fumbling with the edge of his hoodie.

“H-How do you want to start?” He asked quietly, his voice threadbare with nerves. All confidence from the roof had dwindled pretty quickly once the reality of the situation really settled in, and now he could feel his chest tightening from the thought of what was going to come next. You could see it in the way he fumbled with whatever he could get his fingers on, it was the most obvious tell of his. You stepped toward him carefully, and held your hand out like you normally did with him.

”Come here,” You whispered. Bob didn’t hesitate this time around, taking a few steps towards you until you could curl your fingers around the hem of his hoodie, slipping your hands under the soft fabric so you could touch his burning skin. His jaw clenched for a moment at first contact, his lashes fluttering at the featherlight touch you always used with him. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, letting out a shaky breath against your mouth.

”We don’t have to start any particular way,” You murmured, “Just be here with me…” Bob gave a slow, trembling nod, bringing his hands to your waist. You leaned forward a bit, pressing your lips against his, taking his breath away in one quick moment of time. You could feel his shoulders loosen a little, as he sighed into you, his fingers squeezing your clothed flesh gently, pulling your body closer to his. You broke the kiss first, removing your sweater quickly because you were growing warm extremely quickly, just like Bob you ran hot, but only when you were anticipating something, and this was definitely something you were looking forward to.

You threw the sweater to the side with a sigh, pushing your hair out of your face again as you adjusted yourself, seeing Bob’s eyes following your movements, and tracing over the skin that was revealed to him. The light camisole you wore hugged your figure just enough that he could make out the subtle shape of your breasts beneath it, and in the dimmed hue of the room he could see the way your nipples pebbled against the fabric. Before he could even stop himself, his fingers curled under the hem of the covering.

”Can I…?” His voice trailed off, looking down at you with dazed eyes. You nodded immediately, raising your arms up slightly, feeling the way he peeled the fabric up gently, wanting to drink in every inch of newly exposed skin. He slipped the camisole off you, throwing it to the side to join your sweater now, as his eyes returned to your bare chest.

For a second, it was like he didn’t breathe. His mouth parted slightly, and a stunned silence stretched between you before he managed to snap himself out of the trance your breasts had put him in, clearing his throat.

”You’re so…Beautiful. I mean–I already told you that, but seeing you like this–“ He cut himself off, looking down at himself, flustered, “Makes me feel overdressed.” You let out a small giggle, seeing the blush that crowded his face turn an even deeper red.

”Definitely overdressed.” You agreed, keeping your tone light, coaxing a nervous laugh from him. He ducked his head with a shy huff of breath, his hair falling into his eyes.

”S-Sorry. Didn’t mean to get ahead of myself, I just–“

“Hey,” You interrupted, reaching up to cup his face with both hands, forcing his gaze to stay on yours–his pupils already blown out from seeing your bare chest– as you ran your thumbs along his cheeks, “It’s okay…I like when you know what you want and ask for it. I also don’t mind being underdressed in front of you anyways. You don’t have to apologize, okay?” His lashes fluttered at you, as the tension in his shoulders melted just a little.

“Okay…” He whispered back, giving you a small nod, glancing down at himself. He pulled away from your touch, and with shaky hands, he reached for the zipper of his hoodie, tugging it down before peeling the garment off his arms and shoulders, letting it land in the soft pile of clothes that began to grow at your feet. You watched the slow rise and fall of his chest as he hesitated for only a second more before pulling his plain grey t-shirt off as well, letting it join the abyss below.

The second the fabric cleared his torso, your hands were on him–warm palms pressing against bare skin, tracing up along his ribs and over the planes of his chest, feeling the muscles contract beneath your touch, before bringing them up to rest at his neck. You pulled him down to you, fingers curling into his hair gently, as his lips met yours. The kiss this time was deeper–hungrier and desperate. He opened his mouth to you, feeling your tongue slip in, as your bodies aligned with each other again.

His hand slid up along your side, tracing over your ribs, until it found the curve of your breast, cupping it gently within his large palm. You let out a small moan of approval, your hips shifting slightly at the sensation and shivers that twinged up your spine. His thumb dragged over your nipple, circling it slowly before giving the flesh a soft and careful squeeze, not wanting to be too rough at first, drawing out a hum from you, and another gentle pull of his hair.

Bob pulled away from the kiss with a shaky smile, before peppering kisses along your jaw, and down your neck, carving out a wet path all the way to your chest, going to the breast that he wasn’t kneading with his hand still. His lips brushed over your nipple, testing, and teasing, waiting until you leaned toward him to close his mouth around it. A soft moan escaped the both of you, his breath warm and uneven against your skin as he sucked gently, his tongue moving in slow circles before fluttering along the peak. His other hand continued to palm and knead the other one, fingers teasing until both nipples were stiff beneath his attention. He switched sides, not wanting to neglect the other one, which earned another shocked gasp, feeling how more needy he was growing as he greedily sucked and nibbled. Your fingers laced deeper into his hair, trying to ground yourself when you felt your stomach somersaulting from the sensation of his tongue and mouth working in tandem together. Your words spilled out before you could really think–

“Jesus, Bob…” The moment you spoke he froze, pulling off your nipple with a soft, wet pop, lips shiny and slightly parted as he looked up at you. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes–God, his eyes–were wide and hazy, like he was drunk on you and the taste of your skin.

“Are…Are you okay?” You nodded immediately.

”More than okay.” You replied, as your fingers slid out from his hair to trail down his chest, moving with slow precision as you found the tie at the waistband of his sweatpants, keeping your gaze locked on his. You made quick work of it, undoing the knot in one swift pull before pushing at the fabric so it shifted down his hips, exposing more and more skin to you. He straightened up a little, taking his hand off your breast to push them off his legs completely, kicking them off to the side before mirroring your actions–going for your sweatpants too.

He bent down slightly to push them down your legs, and you took the opportunity to steal a quick kiss from him, catching him off guard. The both of you broke into soft laughter, easing your nerves a bit. Once the sweatpants hit the ground you kicked them off your feet, letting them be banished with the rest of your clothes.

Now in just your underwear, the air between the both of you was thick with anticipation. Your breathing slowed, and deepend, syncing with his as he took you in–really absorbing every inch of skin he could see, battle wounds and all–his gaze lingering everywhere. You let your gaze fall for a moment, catching the shape of him beneath the soft cotton of his boxers. His erection was unmistakable, full and straining against the fabric, the outline was thick and defined, which made you nervous, but also excited. The image alone sent a pulse through your belly, and made your toes curl.

When you looked back up at him, he wasn’t staring at your body anymore, he was watching your face. His expression was so open, so filled with awe and admiration that it nearly made your breath catch in your chest. He reached out, his fingers gently cupping your jaw, his thumb running over the skin, before leaning in to press another kiss to your lips, savouring the moment with a sigh.

Then, without saying a word his hand slipped from your face and slid around your back, while his other arm slid under your thighs, lifting you to him with ease. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he carried you the short distance to his bed, throwing the duvet down to the foot of the bed, before lowering you down onto the cool sheets, letting the mattress form around your figure, pushing you up a bit so he could get on top of you.

Bob settled between your thighs with the softest exhale, like he was afraid to ruin the moment by moving too quickly. His knees sank into the mattress, feeling the way your legs guided him closer to you. His hands remained gentle–one braced beside your head, the other holding the side of your hip, absentmindedly tracing circles along it with his thumb.

You tilted your face up to him, and he dipped his head to meet your lips once again. The kiss was slower this time, deep with care and tenderness. You kissed him back with the heat of a thousand suns, your fingers slipping into his hair, pulling him a little closer as your body arched up into his. His hand on your hip drifted up your side, tickling your ribs with the ghosts of his fingertips, letting the intimacy of the moment wrap around you like a second skin.

Then, he pulled back slightly, just far enough to look at you–eyes searching, lips still parted, breath uneven against your mouth. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb brushing idly over your ribs before he finally spoke.

”I-I want to go down on you,” He said quietly, as if the words were sacred to him. His voice was shaky, but you could tell it was just from the nerves that were pulsing through him in those moments, “I want to…Take care of you first…Want to show you how much I’ve been thinking about this…How much I’ve been thinking about you…If that’s okay?” Your heart thudded so loudly in your chest you swore he could hear it. The look on his face–open, vulnerable–was enough to make your breath catch. His words wrapped around you with such warmth that it rooted deep in your body.

You reached up, your fingers curling around the back of his neck, as you whispered.

”That’s more than okay.” He swallowed hard, and then nodded, giving you a small kiss, before drifting down your skin, his lips reaching every inch of you, peppering wet little marks across you, committing every detail to memory. Your hands drifted to his shoulders, brushing across the solid muscles of his back. He kissed your chest, then your ribs, all the way until he reached the edge of your underwear. He paused, lifting his gaze to yours again, just to be sure.

You gave him a small nod, watching his fingers hook under the fabric. He pulled the fabric down your hips, and thighs, as you helped him by pulling each leg out for him. He let out a sigh, looking at your completely bare figure beneath him now, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth for a brief moment before returning to where he was moments ago, putting your legs over his shoulders.

Bob leaned forward, brushing his mouth along your inner thigh, peppering kisses along the skin, memorizing the taste of your skin, inching closer and closer to where you needed him the most. By the time he reached your core, you could feel your whole body pulsing against him, thrumming with anticipation and desperation.

When he finally brought his mouth to your core, he slowly licked upwards, wanting to savour the first time he got to actually taste you. The feeling of it caught you off guard, which drew a soft moan from your lips–broken and boarding on a whimper. His hands tightened at your thighs, holding you closer to him as he licked you again–more firmly this time–his tongue parting you gently, working up to circle around your clit without touching it quite yet. You closed your eyes tightly, reaching down to lace into his soft brown strands of hair. You could feel his eyes on you, watching every reaction that he coaxed out of you. When his mouth finally closed around your clit, your fingers in his hair tightened, hips rolling into him with a gasp.

“F-Fuck…Bob.” You choked out, and that was all he needed.

He groaned softly in response–just hearing your voice sounding so wrecked like that almost destroyed him–and he settled deeper between your thighs. He dragged his tongue in slow, deliberate strokes, curling it just right at the tip, then flicking it softly against you until your legs trembled around him. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently, then swirling his tongue with practiced rhythm, giving you just enough then pulling back slightly to tease again, letting you chase the pressure.

Your back arched off the bed slightly, your breath catching in your throat.

”You…Holy fuck Bob…” You whined, not being able to find the words in your vocabulary because your brain was melting from the intense pressure that was building in your stomach. The way you said his name had him clutching at your thighs tighter, grounding himself as he buried his face against you more, like a man starved. He moaned softly, sending another wave of heat through your core, the vibration making you gasp. His tongue flicked, circled, and flattened, lavishing you with such deliberate devotions which drew you closer and closer to the edge.

He shifted slightly, and took one of his hands off your hip, bringing it between your thighs as he adjusted his other hand so it was splayed out along your belly. He traced his fingers through your wetness, dragging two of them along your entrance, teasing for just a second before gently slipping them inside. You bit your lip, suppressing a moan as you looked down at him, seeing how focused he was on pleasing you, his eyes glistening with such intensity that you felt like you were going to die.

His fingers moved slowly at first, letting you adjust to the slight stretch they provided, before curling them slightly, finding the spot inside you that made your back arch off the bed, crying out as your legs tightened around his head. He didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate, he just groaned again, like your pleasure was the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Oh my god–Bob–Bob please don’t stop…Don’t stop.” You begged, your voice breathless, and trembling on every syllable. Your fingers gripped his hair even tighter, as you felt the orgasm cresting with a pressure so intense it stole the air from your lungs. Your body was unraveling, and your muscles were tightening like a wire drawn taut. He felt it–he felt the way your walls began to pulse around his fingers, the way your hips started to jerk–and he doubled down, curling his fingers harder, sucking your clit in time with your shattering moans.

“Come for me,” He whispered against you, voice wrecked, barely audible but so sure. “Please. I want to feel it.” You broke apart beneath him with a cry, your thighs clamping around his head as your body seized, pleasure rocketing through you in waves so intense they left your limbs shaking. Your core pulsed around his fingers, your back arching off the mattress as you rode out the release, breath stuttering through sobs of ecstasy.

Bob held you through it, fingers still moving slowly inside you as his mouth gently eased off, switching to open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, grounding you, kissing you through the aftershocks. He watched your body tremble beneath him, his own breath ragged with awe.

Finally, when you dropped back onto the mattress with a long, shaky sigh, he pulled his fingers from you slowly, kissing your hip one more time before crawling up over your body. His skin was flushed, his mouth was wet and glistening with your arousal, and his eyes were glazed and dark with want–but there was so much tenderness in his face that it nearly brought tears to your eyes.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, before pulling back to caress your cheek, his thumb running just below your eye.

”Are you okay? Did I–“ You cupped his face, and pulled him back down to you, kissing him again, interrupting the words that were about to fall out of his mouth. He let a soft moan against your lips, before you slowly pulled back.

”You did…Absolutely amazing Bob. So fucking amazing.” Bob’s breath hitched the moment you said it, and you watched the praise ripple through him like a tide, flooding his expression with something raw and deeply earnest. He looked almost overwhelmed, like he didn’t know what to do with that kind of affirmation, but he was appreciative of it regardless.

You gave him a second to breathe, brushing his hair back gently from his flushed forehead as he hovered over you, gaze still fixed on your face like he couldn’t believe you were real.

Then you tilted your head toward his ear, your voice soft and steady.

“My turn.”

Bob blinked, his lips parting slightly. “Y-You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” You cut him off gently, placing your palms on his chest and guiding him down onto his back. “I really want to.”

He let you maneuver him without resistance, collapsing onto the pillows as you crawled over him, straddling his thighs with slow, deliberate movements that kept his eyes trained on you. Your fingers trailed down his torso, grazing the firm lines of his chest and stomach, watching as his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

When you shifted lower, reaching for the waistband of his boxers, he let out a sharp breath.

“Wait—” He said quickly, sitting up on one elbow, using his other hand to catch your wrist. “I–shit–I want you to just–just use your hands, okay?” You blinked at him, a little surprised by the request and the sudden interruption.

“Why?” You asked gently. His face flushed harder, eyes dropping to the sheets for a second before he met your gaze again, voice low and a little sheepish.

”Because I’m gonna end up finishing too fast if you use your mouth..And I don’t want to finish unless it’s inside you.” He admitted, his breath unsteady. Your thighs flinched at his words, leaving you staggered. You weren’t expecting it, not from him. Not from soft-spoken, anxious, stammering Bob…But then again he had just given you the best orgasm in the world…So he did have a bit more of a wilder side to him that evidently he only reserved for you at this point.

”…Okay.” You whispered, leaning in to kiss him once more, before easing down his body again. Your fingers curled into the waistband of his boxers, and you eased them down his hips, eyes never leaving his as you exposed him to the cool air. His cock was thick and flushed, twitching slightly with need, already glistening at the tip with precum. The sight of him made your mouth go dry, and your stomach turn. You wrapped your fingers around him slowly, watching the way his jaw tightened at your touch, his head falling back against the pillow with a soft moan. Your hand moved in slow, steady strokes, twisting gently at the tip, your palm slick from how worked up he already was.

“Oh…Oh god you’re going to ruin me.” He rasped, breathlessly. You leaned over him, your free hand braced against his chest as you shifted to straddle his thighs properly. The weight of you over him made his eyes flutter open again. His hands went to your hips, as if just having you there made him feel steadier. Then without warning, he looked up at you with glassy eyes and spoke.

“C-Can I sit up against the headboard?” His voice was rough with need, but still gentle—like he didn’t want to disrupt the closeness, only deepen it.

You nodded immediately, helping guide him as he adjusted, both of you moving slowly so nothing between you was rushed. You cradled his shoulders as he shifted upward, his back settling against the cold wood of the headboard with a relieved exhale. The lamp’s soft glow painted his chest in gold, and his hair was a little messy from where your fingers had run through it, his mouth still parted as he looked at you with awe.

You straddled his lap again, keeping one hand wrapped around the base of him as he pulled you closer again. His head tilted forward and he pressed warm, open-mouthed kisses to your chest, lips finding your breast again like he needed it, sucking gently over the flesh, making sure to leave a mark before pausing to let his breath fan across your skin. All the while, your hand kept moving—slow, slick, steady. You felt him throb in your palm, the heat of him pulsing like a second heartbeat. You could hear him panting, but he didn’t tell you to stop, so you continued until he pulled back from your chest completely, his pupils blown wide with something molten in his expression.

”Y/N, spit in my mouth…” He whispered, “I want all of you…I want everything. I want you in every part of me…Please.” He added, his voice on the edge of a whimper. Your breath caught at his words, not from surprise or shock but from the vulnerability the words had to them. His need wasn’t crude…It was devotional, like it was the only way he knew how to show you how dedicated he was.

You nodded once, slowly, with your eyes locked on his. Your free hand came up to cradle his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly beneath his eye before gently tilting his head back, exposing his throat to you. He kept his gaze on you, wide-eyed and trembling as you leaned over him, still stroking his cock while doing so.

With your lips parted and breath warm, you let a slow, steady thread of saliva slip from your mouth–down past his lips and onto his waiting tongue. He didn’t flinch, he just accepted it with a shuddering breath, swallowing it right when it made contact. A flush bloomed even more across his neck and chest. You smiled down at him, seeing how satisfied he looked. He took a deep breath, then surged forward, one arm wrapping around your waist as he kissed you, open and warm, with his lips parting against yours like he wanted to thank you with his whole body.

You deepened the kiss, your chest pressing flush to his as he held you in his lap, the heat of his body radiating against yours like a shell. His hands roamed over your back, your waist, everywhere he could reach, but it wasn’t frantic—it was gentle and slow, like he was memorizing you by feeling alone. And then you pulled back, just enough to speak, your lips barely brushing his.

“I need you inside me.”

The words left you in a whisper, but they hit him like a lightning strike. Bob’s breath stuttered, and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours—glazed, dazed, and swimming in something so deep it made your spine curl. He nodded, a little frantic, the motion jerky as he grasped at your hips again, steadying you, grounding himself.

“You sure?” He asked, drawing his brows together, his voice hoarse, wanting to be sure you were on board with this completely. You nodded, kissing him one more time.

”Never been more sure.” You adjusted your hips with care, steadying yourself as you guided him to your entrance, the tip of him hot and slick against you. Bob’s breath hitched, his fingers flexing hard at your waist as he tried to hold himself still, trying not to rush you. You watched his jaw tense, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you slowly began to sink down onto him, inch by inch, until he filled you completely.

The stretch made your thighs tremble and your breath catch, and Bob let out a strangled groan that vibrated through his whole chest. His head fell back against the headboard with a soft thump, eyes fluttering closed as he murmured something that sounded like your name paired with the words oh my God. You sat there a moment, your hands planted on his chest, letting your bodies adjust, feeling the twitch of him inside you, the way he was already pulsing with restraint.

And then you began to move.

It was slow at first, just the tiniest grind of your hips forward and back, your slick heat stroking along his length. His eyes cracked open, dazed and glassy, like he couldn’t believe this was real. He brought his hands to your hips, guiding you gently, letting you take what you needed at your own pace, and in your own way.

You moved together like a heartbeat–slow, steady, with increasing intensity.

Bob’s hands slid up your back, then down again to cup your ass, helping you ride him deeper, pushing you just enough to make your breath hitch with every descent. His moans became more frequent, low and helpless against your skin, and he whispered your name like a prayer, again and again, until it bled into the rhythm of your bodies.

“God–you feel so good–so so good,” he rasped against your neck. “I don’t think I can–oh shit–”

Your hips were moving faster now, desperation threading into every motion. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, your quiet moans, and his ragged breathing. You felt like you were both on fire—burning, blindingly alive.

And then, suddenly, Bob shifted.

Without warning, he gripped your thighs and flipped you, your back hitting the mattress with a gasp. Before you could say anything, he was there—above you—sliding back into you in one fluid, aching thrust. You cried out, your hands gripping his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, pulling him in closer.

Bob moaned softly, burying his face into your neck as his hips snapped forward with more force now, losing the gentle rhythm he had from before, exchanging it for something deeper, and more primal. One of his hands found yours and squeezed it tight, pressing it against the pillow beside your head, while the other shot out grip the headboard so he could brace himself.

And then the sound hit.

CRACK.

You barely registered it at first–you were too lost in the crescendo building inside your body, the way he filled you so perfectly, the way your name fell from his lips like he was worshiping you with every thrust. But his body shuddered on top of you, his hips jerking erratically now, the pace stuttering as he reached the edge.

“Oh God–God–Y/N–”

He moaned loudly, something close to a gasp punched from his lungs as his hips slammed into you one final time, and his whole body locked up. His hand crushed the top of the headboard–literally splintering the wood under his palm as he came inside you with a broken, breathless cry. You felt the wave of it, the way he pulsed deep inside, the warmth of him spilling into you, and it sent you hurtling over the edge too, your climax crashing through your limbs like a wave snapping every nerve awake. You cried out beneath him, your nails dragging down his back, your body seizing around him.

Bob collapsed, trembling, his forehead pressed to your shoulder, his breath hot and wild against your collarbone. His hair was a complete mess, damp and tangled and wild across your skin. He was heavy and shaking, still buried inside you, both of you locked in the aftermath–too breathless to speak. You could feel his heart pounding against you–where his chest was pressed against yours.

Then slowly, you felt him lift his head from your shoulder, his cheeks a complete crimson now, lips parted as he gazed down at you with those shimmering blue eyes again, like he was trying to comprehend what just happened.

In those moments he leaned forward and kissed you, like he was saying thank you, or maybe he was trying to determine if this really was happening. You kissed him back with the same softness he gave you, your fingers pushing his hair back from his face. He sighed, and pulled back from your lips, his gaze raising slightly. You could see his mouth drop open slightly, and his eyes went wide.

”…What?” You asked, your brows drawing together in confusion. He didn’t answer. Instead, he gently reached up and tilted your chin, guiding your gaze upward–and that’s when you saw it.

A clean, jagged split ran right down the center of the wooden headboard. Splintered and cracked like lightning had struck it from above. Your mouth parted in shock, and for a beat neither of you said anything.

Then you laughed.

It started soft–with disbelief and surprise–but quickly turned into full, breathless giggles that made your body shake. Bob buried his face in your neck again, groaning quietly.

“At least we still have my bed to move to,” You teased, stroking his hair to calm him down from the embarrassment he was probably feeling. “But maybe we should…I don’t know…Get things that don’t break so easily?”

Bob groaned again into your skin, and you could hear the shy smile behind it. “Y-Yeah…Yeah, maybe,” He mumbled, barely audible.

You could feel the heat creeping back into his cheeks.

“Though…” He added after a pause, voice muffled and sheepish, “If sex is always gonna be like that… I-I don’t think it’ll matter what it’s made of…” You smirked, pushing him off his shoulder so you could look at him–and the adorable way he immediately avoided your gaze. Your heart swelled.

“Sounds like a good time to me,” You whispered, brushing his messy hair back from his forehead before pressing a kiss to it.

Eventually, you cleaned yourselves up, and shifted to your bed, sliding in under the fresh sheets, tucking yourselves into each other. Bob curled around you protectively, your bodies bare and warm together, with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, nose buried into your hair. You fell asleep like that–saturated in the safety of each other, breath syncing, hearts still fluttering.

——————

The morning sunlight slipped gently into the room, illuminating the soft gold glow of the lamp you’d forgotten to turn off.

You were the first to stir.

Bob’s arms were still locked around you, holding you like he thought you might disappear. You turned in his embrace, resting your palm against his chest, letting your fingers trace lazy circles along his sternum, and the little scars that he had around that area that were barely noticeable. His eyes fluttered open not long after, blinking slowly until they found yours.

“Morning,” You whispered.

“Hi…” He whispered back, his voice gravelly from, as one hand moved to push your hair out of your face with the backs of his fingers. “You’re still here.”

You smiled. “Of course I am.”

He returned a smile back to you, cupping your cheek gently before leaning in to kiss you–sleepy and sweet, his soft lips barely moving, while his nose brushed against yours. He pulled back slowly, letting his thumb trace your lower lip. You kissed the pad of it, with a sweet smirk.

”I could stay like this forever,” He murmured, trailing his touch down to the side of your neck, taking in the image of you in front of him, making sure he would remember this moment. You tilted your head into his hand, staring up at him with your heart pounding against your chest.

”Me too.” He grinned, just a little. The kind of grin that was half love-drunk and half processing the events that happened last night, then you remembered what you were going to talk to him about yesterday when you came back to the room, before you found his note.

”Hey I was actually going to tell you something when I came back to the room,” You began, already laughing at the story, seeing the way his attention was on you, hanging off of every word “During training yesterday evening, Yelena and Bucky gave me the third degree abo-“ Just as you were about to tell him you heard Yelena’s voice coming from an already opening door.

”Y/N, missed tra-OH MY GOD! HOLY CRAP!” You jolted, the covers pulling up to your chest as Bob yelped and scrambled to sit up behind you, wide-eyed and clutching the sheets. In the doorway, Yelena stood with her hands over her eyes, then immediately turned and bolted out again.

”I KNEW IT! BUCKY I TOLD YOU!” She yelled. The both of you glanced over at each other.

”…I’m assuming they gave you…The third degree about us?” Bob asked, finishing the sentence you were about to say before the interruption.

“Yeah…” You whispered under your breath, trying to suppress a laugh.

[bbokicidal]

SKZ + Bulking

Synopsis: In which you figure out/realize your boyfriend is bulking up for whatever reason. And he figures out how much you like it.

Genre: Fluff/Suggestive Pairing: OT8 x GN!Reader Warnings: These scenarios DO talk about body image so if that makes you uncomfortable, do not read this. 18+ because there is sex mentioned. Also Chan's is just fluffy, sorry.

Chan:

"Are you.." Your words fall on nearly-deaf ears as you step into the bedroom, your boyfriend's nose buried in the screen of his laptop as he mixed a beat - silenced to the world by his headphones. He has one of the muffs tucked back behind his ear so he can hear you if you need him, and he peeks over when he realizes you were talking.

"Hm?"

"Are you bigger?" You question, eyes slowly raking over Chris' body which currently adorned nothing more than a black tank top and a pair of his sleeper shorts. The man pauses, smiles, and then giggles.

"No," He peeps through his smile full of teeth, eyes a soft crescent as his hands come up to his shoulders as if hiding away from your curious gaze. "Don't look at me like that!" Chris giggles out soon after, turning away. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he had been bulking a little bit just to see how his body would take it. He hadn't noticed anything different so far, but you seem to have - which only made him all the more giddy and flustered.

Minho:

Slowly turning his head in your direction, Minho's eyes fall wide and cat-like as he stares over at you in return to feeling your burning gaze searing holes into his poor back. ".... What?" He questions, already knowing you're about to ask him something with the way you look him over.

"Nothing," You hum, approaching to gently hug onto your boyfriend from behind while he prepares to cook dinner. "You just look a little more... broad, is all." Your lips meet his shoulder and Minho hums with a small smile.

He nods, "I've been working out a little more. Trying a routine Changbin told me about." Minho's gaze flickers back to the food, then in your direction even if he can't see you behind him. "... Broad is good, right?"

Your giggles fill his ears and he smiles. "Yes, baby. Broad is good. Broad is sexy."

Minho's brow cocks. He sucks the inside of his cheek in thought. Maybe dinner could wait - Dessert would have to come first tonight.

Changbin:

"You're so soft," Your mumbles are muffled in Changbin's chest, your face buried right between those big ol boobies his pecs. He's been laughing the entire time since you've laid atop him like he was your personal body pillow - which, he kind of was with how warm and soft he was to lay on. "I'm gonna stay here forever."

"I have to get up eventually," Changbin teases with a giggly smile, his arms wrapping over your back before he gently squeezes you into him. The whine that escapes your throat is breathless but content and it makes him laugh yet again. "Like that?"

"Love it," You sigh against him. "You're so warm and I just wanna --" Changbin sucks in a breath when your hands find his sides, fingers gently squeezing and kneading at the warmth of his stomach. He chuckles shortly after, cheeks turning rosy at the contact with his lower half. "Mm."

He peeks down to you, mimicking your hum in question. "... Did -- Uhm. Did you notice?"

"Did I notice you're bigger than before?" You lift your head to peer at your boyfriend and he smiles, cheeks dimpling. "Of course I did. I noticed when you hugged me. Your arms are frickin' huge. Could knock me out in a chokehold with those bad boys."

Changbin's smile falls and he stares down at you in reply, to which you mimic his expression. There seems to be a silent conversation happening when his brow cocks and you just smile at him. Yeah - You'd be getting backshots while being held in a chokehold later.

Hyunjin:

Overworking himself in the practice room wasn't something uncommon for Hyunjin to do. He was always in there, sweating away, practicing hard for new choreography and comebacks. Only this time you were there with him - which was something new, especially because he wasn't used to a shocked and excited gasp coming from behind him when he rolled up the sleeves of his t-shirt to show his upper arms and shoulders.

"Oooh, look at these beauties," Your teasing words meet Hyunjin's ears just as he feels your hands wrap around one of his biceps. He looks over at you in slight surprise - You're touching him when he's dripping sweat from practice without any care in the world. His eyes fall to your hands around his arm before he smiles, a subtle but sweet giggle falling from his lips.

His cheeks dimple deep as he looks into the mirror when you peer at him, squeezing and kneading at the muscle under your hands. And of course your boyfriend flexes just to show off, rolling his sleeve just a little higher for you to get a gander at his guns. "Right? I've been working out more."

"I can tell," You coo beside him and he laughs out again, a bit breathless. His gaze lingers on you a little longer than it probably should have but you don't seem to mind, understanding just from the way he gazed at you that what you had said - and your admiration of his hard work - was a bit of a turn on for him. Nothing you couldn't help him out with later. ~

Jisung:

"You're the size of Chan, look at this! Look at this picture, Ji!"

But Jisung's in a fit of laughter, arms curled around his stomach as he rolls on the couch to face away from you. He can't look at the picture or he's only going to grow more nervous and shy. Jisung gasps out with a laugh as he peeks back at the comparison picture you had pulled up.

He'd been bulking for almost three months now and it was growing more and more obvious day by day. His arms were thick and you had noticed it as time went on - and Jisung was adamant on saying he wasn't that big, he wasn't that strong or bulky -- But you had other plans.

"I'm not as big as him-! Look at that, Look at how veiny he is-!" Jisung points at the picture before looking away again, his ears pink at the tips. "Aaah - Don't make me look again..!"

And you laugh out this time in return, hugging onto your boyfriend to bring him closer. "You're the one working out, Jisung, you're going to have to face the consequences of me being turned on by it." And Jisung pauses, eyes wide as he peeks back at you.

"You like it that much?" He peeps, eyes scanning your face. As you nod in reply, his cheeks burn red at the thought of it all. His gaze averts into the distance and he sighs out, looking more than determined all of a sudden. "I'm going to keep bulking forever..!"

Felix:

"I saw your runway videos. You looked incredible, sweetheart."

"Thank you, angel." Felix smiles from where he sits beside you, his body turned so he could lay in your lap. His shoulders pressed against your thigh and even then you could tell he was gaining more muscle - He didn't feel as thin as he had a few months or so prior. "Could you tell I was working out before I walked? Not right before, but. Before that day. Up until that day." He chuckles, looking up from his phone to peer at you.

When you nod in affirmation, he smiles. "Really?"

"Mhm. Your arms and chest look thicker than I think they ever have. It's a good look on you, Lixie. Are you happy with the results of your hard work?" Your hand brushes down his arm and his smile only grows as he nods against your thigh.

"Mm. I like how I look a lot, actually. I think it suits me."

"I think so too." You hum, eyes softening as you look down at him. Felix can feel the slight shift of energy between the two of you and his smile turns bright, knowing.

"My body turns you on so much you wanna have sex?"

"I wanna have sex."

Seungmin:

"You.. do know I can feel you staring at me, right?"

You blink a few times in slight embarrassment and turn your gaze away. "Sorry.."

"What's wrong?" Seungmin seems to assume something negative had happened as he sits beside you, placing a bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table.

"Eh - What? Nothing. Nothing, just -- The recent SKZCode video, you were wearing that tank top and you looked so..."

Seungmin's chest tightens as he stares over at you. He seems to think you're going to say something bad or say he looked weird and so he braces himself for the words to come from your mouth.

"You looked really sexy, min. It's a good look on you. Your shoulders are so broad and square. I just.." You shrug gently in reply and Seungmin nods, appreciating the compliment. "And you looked kind of.. bigger than I've seen before."

Seungmin blinks at this. Bigger --? His eyes widen, falling on the coffee table. Could you tell he was working out? He hadn't been planning to tell you, he just.. sort of hoped you wouldn't take notice too much and maybe even think he had always been a bit stronger than he was when you first met. "I've been.. bulking," He admits after a moment. "I can stop if it's too much though."

"What?" You look over, quickly shaking your head. "No--! No, oh my God. Do whatever you want, baby, you look incredible. You should do whatever you want with your body -- It's yours, not mine. But," You pause, cheeks rosy. "You do look really good right now."

He chuckles, biting into his lip in thought. "Thank you. Think I'll keep going, then. For me -- and you." He looks over and you have to look away to keep yourself from going insane - especially when he shrugs his flannel off and sits there in a tank top for the entirety of your movie night with his arm over the back of the couch.

Jeongin:

"Oh my GOD."

Jeongin drops off of the bar he had been holding onto to do pull-ups as his gaze shoots over in your direction. He stares, eyes holding a bashful glint at being caught working out. Well, not caught but - you'd never been present for it before.

"Look at you, look at this!" You beam, reaching out to gently hold onto your boyfriend's biceps and give them a teasing squeeze. Even when he wasn't flexing, his muscles were so well defined that it was almost.. picture perfect, really. Aesthetically pleasing from every angle even when relaxed. "You look incredible, baby."

And he smiles, dimples deep in his cheeks as he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips. "Thank you.~ I've been working hard today so I'm sorry if I'm a little sweaty."

"Mm? No, it's fine. You look good even when you're messy like this." You reassure and Jeongin has to kiss you again just for the compliment. "You know with these arms you might be able to toss me around soon. Just saying."

Jeongin cocks a brow, eyes narrowing as he looks down at you in interest. He wastes little to no time before bending down to pick you up, his arms lacing underneath your thighs to hoist you up against him with ease. He couldn't toss you around in the gym, really, but he could fuck you up against the mirror while holding you the entire time. Just to prove he could carry you, of course. Tossing came later.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Gravity Part One

Part Two

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader

Notes: Welcome back to another accidental three-parter. Not beta-read.

Rating: M

Length: 5.6K

Warnings: Yearning (a frickin lot); slow burn; coworkers to friends to lovers; angst; fluff; canon-typical medical chat; fluff; POV switches a couple of times; Reader is roommates with Ellis; Jack 'Prolonged Eye Contact' Abbot

Summary: Abbot didn’t make you uncomfortable, per se. But the nerves that had welled around him during your first few weeks at the Pitt had never really gone away. If you were hard-pressed to examine and classify your feelings, you would (grudgingly) sort them into the mild to moderately romantic category. You blamed him for that entirely.

It wasn't fair, of course. He was handsome, knowledgeable, charming when he wanted to be. He was an amazing physician, an excellent teacher. And it wasn't his fault you had a bit of competency kink. Abbot had never made you feel anything but valued—and nervous.

Besides, it was embarrassing to admit that you had a crush on a man that you’d hardly looked in the eye for the last few years. 

It started when she was an intern. 

Jack was fully aware of his tendency toward strong eye contact. It helped him make sure he was fully getting a point across when he was guiding residents in the ER—so long as their focus wasn't meant to be elsewhere. 

He managed to meet her eye fully exactly twice—and maybe it was odd, but Jack could remember both times clear as day. 

The first one was her first day at the Pitt, when she’d shook his hand, introduced herself with a nervous tremor in her voice. Her palm had been a little sweaty, and cold, but her eyes had held his. 

The second had been a week or so later, the first time she’d lost a patient. He’d clapped her on the shoulder, reassured her that there was nothing more she could’ve done. He’d tacked on, “Don’t let it happen again,” and he’d been kidding—but she had balked, ducked her head, apologized, and hurried away. 

She had rarely met his eye since then.

At first, he’d figured that she was shy, and that she’d grow out of it. Then, he’d thought that maybe she was more reserved at work—some people simply kept their personal and professional lives separate.

But those notions had been disproven time and time and time again: when she palled around with her fellow residents; when she watched and communicated with Walsh attentively; when the senior resident that was clearly hitting on her leaned just a little too close for Jack’s liking in the staff room. 

She hadn’t backed down from a single one, hardly batted a damn eyelash.

But any time she spotted Jack, her eyes would lower or dart away—to the floor, to her hands, to a chart, to the sandwich cart, to a counter.

Now, Jack was not a man to take these things personally, but after all these years, it stuck in his craw. He didn’t think about it most days, had learned to take it in stride, found ways to work with it. It had never caused a hold up during a procedure, or in the event of an emergency. She was always active in communicating with him, she just…Never looked at him. 

“You’re going to burn a hole through her head.” 

Jack hadn’t realized he was staring until Lena said so. He glanced toward the nurse, eyed her knowing smile, and redirected his focus to the computer in front of him. 

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

Lena snorted, turning back to the desk as someone approached to ask her a question. 

Jack only half-listened, unable to help his eyes drifting toward her again. She was hunched over her own computer, and seemed to be fighting back a smile at something Shen was saying. Another comment or two from Shen, and then her chin was tipping up, a bright smile on her lips as she held Shen’s eye.

Jack huffed a soft laugh through his nose at the sound of Shen’s cackling laugh, and it was like watching ripples in a pond—her head tipped, her brow furrowed, and her eyes darted in Jack’s direction. The smile flattened when she caught him looking, her focus lowering to her keyboard as she hurriedly straightened. She seemed to point to the charge board, mutter something, and turned on her heel, striding away with purpose.

Jack couldn’t help a swell of petty disappointment. What the hell was that? There was no way she’d heard him laugh. It was like she’d sensed a disturbance in the force. Jack shook his head, trying to refocus on the chart. 

Did she panic because he had been smiling? Had he been staring at her as long as Lena implied? Did he look like some dirty old man? 

Jack pushed off of the desk, eyeing the charge board with purpose. Whatever it was that made her skitter away like that—well. He’d forget it by tomorrow. 

--  

“Hey. You headed in?” 

You glanced back, doing a double-take at the site of Ellis standing in the kitchen doorway. 

“Uh—Yeah, just packin’ a few snacks. You need anything?” 

“I got something to ask you.” 

“Sure, what’s up?” You turned to face her, folding your arms expectantly. In the entire time you and Ellis had been roommates, you’d never seen her look concerned like this—and she usually didn’t bother trying to be delicate when broaching a difficult subject. 

“Parker, what is it?” You pressed.

“Is something going on between you and Abbot?”

Your brow furrowed, mouth falling open as if to answer—but what the hell kind of question was that?

“Excuse me?” 

“You and Abbot, what’s going on?” 

“There’s nothing going on.” 

“You sure?” 

“I think I’d know if something was happening between us, El. Where the hell did this come from, anyway?” 

“Shen said the two of you were weird yesterday, that Abbot looked at you and you bolted. And—” She shrugged, “You kinda always seem like that. Did something happen?” 

“Nothing happened yesterday! I realized I needed to go check on a patient, I’d just gotten their results back.” 

“And all the other times?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Ellis gave you a long look before she relented, holding her hands up in surrender with a mutter of, “Alright.”

“Great.”

“If you insist—”

“I do insist.” 

“But you know what they say about people who protest too much.”

“Cap it, Hamlet. You on tonight?” 

“Yep,” Ellis nodded. 

“See you in there.” 

“If you wanna wait, I’ll drive you.” 

“Nah, it’s okay,” You shifted your bag onto your shoulder. “The walk is good for me.”

“We’re gonna be on our feet for the next twelve hours.” 

“I like a warm-up,” You insisted. “See you in there.” 

Slow and steady, that was how you left the apartment—even steps, a measured pocket-pat-down at the door to make sure you had your phone, keys, wallet, ID badge…And then you were out the door.

Out the door, and down the stairs, and cursing under your breath as you stepped out onto the street. Where the hell did Ellis get off, asking something like that? Implying that something could be going on between you and Abbot? You hardly spoke to the guy. Hell—you felt like you barely said more than two words to the man that didn’t have anything to do with work. The implication that the two of you had something going on was categorically insane—and it twisted your gut up in a knot. 

The closer you got to the Pitt, the worse the feeling got, until it was bordering on nausea. You stopped a block away, drawing in a deep breath and puffing it out between your lips, trying to shake yourself of the feeling. Damnit, why’d you let Ellis get in your head that way? 

You drew in another steadying breath as you started forward again, trying to shake the nerves out of your hands. This shift was going to be fine—as seamless as the ones before it.  

-- 

“You doin’ okay?” 

It was a fair question asked by the last person you wanted to hear it from. The shift had been hell. Patient after patient seemed to have some hitch. You were slower to respond when Abbot asked you questions, prompted you. It was only made worse by the feeling of Ellis and Shen watching every goddamn interaction. 

Now, the test results were back for the patient you were least looking forward to seeing. The patient herself was sweet, but you were getting nowhere with her overbearing husband answering nearly every question for her. 

You pushed yourself to straighten up. 

“Fine,” You insisted flatly. “Thanks.” You straightened fully, hesitating as you heard him take a step away. “Actually—” 

It was out of your mouth before you could stop it. You saw Abbot go still in your periphery, and your hands flexed around the iPad in your hands. 

“I’m having trouble getting answers from a patient—a woman with a head injury. She said she slipped and whacked it, but based on where the cut is...I don't think it's possible. And her husband’s an overbearing ass. I’ve got a bad feeling about him.”

“Abusive?” 

“I think so. Could you run interference?” 

“Sure. You have one of those pens, one of the—” 

“I always keep a couple in my pocket.” 

--

She steeled herself before she went into the examination bay. Jack had seen her do it time and time again when she could. He wondered how it steadied her, savored the way that she closed her eyes for a split-second, drew in a deep breath, and then slapped a smile on before pulling the curtain back.

"How are we doing in here?"

Her chipper tone did nothing to reveal the concern that she'd shared with him moments ago. Abbot followed close behind, taking in the young woman laying in a hospital gown on the bed, and the man standing just beside her at the head. Abbot took another step toward the bed, then stopped as the woman seemed seemed to shrink back, attempting to make herself smaller.

"She's fine." The man's voice was gruff in his insistence, his hand curled into a fist just by his wife's head. Abbot's eyes skated across the bruises and scrapes to the knuckles there, his own hands wringing behind his back as he took another step closer.

Jack saw her glance back toward him before she gestured, "Dr. Abbot, this is Nick and Amanda Alpers. Mr. and Mrs. Alpers, this is Dr. Abbot. He's the ER's foremost expert on head injuries." An easy fib, and it seemed to be a necessary one.

"Aren't you all trained on the same shit?" Nick grumbled. Abbot took a couple of steps closer, taking in the slight matting of hair on the wife's head, the dark clotting of blood.

"We all have our own experiences that inform how we practice," Abbot passed easily, taking one more step. "Mrs. Alpers, would it be alright if I examined the—"

"It's just a scrape, really!" The insistence was hurried, and left the poor woman in a squeak. Abbot forced a small smile, giving a conceding nod.

"May I examine the scrape?" He conceded.

Amanda's eyes seemed to dart to Nick for permission, and only after a hefty sigh did Nick wave Abbot closer.

He couldn't help but note the way his fellow doctor rounded the bed, caught on the slight flurry of her questions as he gloved up.

"Are you feeling any pressure?" He asked, gently parting the hair to get a better look at the bloody, raised bump on her head.

"N-no. No more than usual—I mean! No more than anyone ever usually feels," Amanda hurried to answer. Abbot's eyes lifted to the doctor on the opposite side of the bed just in time to see her fingers tightening around her iPad.

"Any sensitivity to light, sound...?" Abbot went on, drawing his penlight out of his pocket and shining it from one eye to the next.

"Nn-nn."

"Hm."

"If that's all, can we go?" Nick groused. "Already been a waste of a night."

Abbot straightened, sizing Nick up. He waited for his fellow physician to say something, but—Nothing. He looked at her, certain she was eyeing the chart, but realized immediately that it was a mistake. Her eyes were right on his, widening pointedly as they darted to the creep beside her. Abbot cleared his throat, doing his best to focus on the patient—though he knew he'd be tucking that look away for himself.

"Nick, can I have a word?" He asked, gesturing toward the nurse's station.

"What for?"

Abbot pushed a short breath out through his nose as he rounded the bed, taking even steps so as not to raise the brute's hackles.

"There are some things that I'd like to discuss with you. Things that, you know," He nodded, "Women shouldn't hear."

Watching understanding wash over Nick's face made his stomach turn. It was a wonder the man had brought his wife to the ER at all if that was the attitude he held.

"We won't go far?" Nick pressed, though he was already moving.

"No, no," Jack insisted, following him out, "Just a few feet." He gave her one last look, and a quick nod before tugging the observation curtain closed behind them.

--

The knot that had formed in your stomach only tightened, but it wasn’t for your own nerves or panic anymore. You didn't like letting her go, hated seeing her leave with him. Abbot came to a stop beside you, and for a moment, the two of you just watched Nick steer Amanda out of the ER.

"What'd you say to him?" You asked.

"Distracted him with football."

"I didn't know you watched."

“Sometimes. She take the pen?” He asked. 

“...Yeah.” 

“It’s a start.”

“Might be too little, too late.” 

“She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

“You think so?” 

“Sure.”

“...I gave her my number, too.” 

You saw Abbot’s head turn toward you, and you froze, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“You shouldn’t have done that.” It should’ve been more of a scold, but you could’ve sworn his tone was tinged with admiration. 

“I know.”

“What were you thinking?” 

“I wasn’t.” You turned away from Abbot. “Thanks again for distracting him.” 

“...No problem. Will you tell me if she calls?” 

“Yeah,” You nodded, turning to look at the board. “Hope she does—and soon.” 

“Was that all that was bothering you?” 

“What?” 

“You seemed a little off earlier. Just making sure everything’s okay.” 

Well, Abbot always was the observant type. It was one of the things that made him such a good doctor. You shouldn’t have been offended by his question, but in that moment, his concern was as unwelcome as Ellis probing had been just a few hours before. 

“Just one of those days—nights,” You corrected, “You know.” 

“Take a couple minutes, get some air.” 

“I’m alright.” And before you could stop yourself, you gave him a grateful smile before turning away. In truth, you weren't entirely sure where you were headed to—you’re more distracted by the fact that you’d met the guy’s eye more in the last twenty minutes than you probably had in the last two years. 

-- 

“Here.” 

“Thanks,” You took your beer as Ellis set it down and settled into the seat across from you. “John on his way?” 

“Yeah,” She nodded, “And uh…Don’t kill me, but he’s bringing someone.” 

You frowned, shaking your head as you waited for her to explain. Ellis didn’t elaborate, merely tipped her brows up. It only took a second for you to put the pieces together, and you groaned, sliding down in your chair as nerves flooded your stomach. 

“Parker—” 

“It’s just a coincidence!” She took in your unimpressed glare, corrected, “Mostly a coincidence. We always ask, he almost never says yes. It’s as hard to talk him into coming out as it is to talk you into it. Besides, it’ll help!” 

“There’s nothing here that needs helping.” 

“It’s slowing things down—”

“When has it ever slowed anything down?”

“Last few shifts, he’s waited for you to look at him when you answer and nothing. It’s making shit weird. We leave that messy personal bull for the day shift.”

“I’m not—This isn’t messy, it’s just—”

“You barely look at the guy. We all notice it.” 

“He’s so big on frickin’ eye contact, like,” You glanced around the bar, “It’s intimidating.” 

“Intimidating?”

“Yeah.”

“Intimidating.” 

“Yes! I barely even like making eye contact with you, but I live with you, so it’s mostly unavoidable.” 

“You love it.”

“Sure. Who wouldn’t want to be adopted by the meanest lesbian in the ER?”

“I thought that was Garcia.”

“No, she’s the meanest lesbian in surgery.” 

Ellis’ smile widened before she perked up, waving at someone behind you before she leaned in just a touch. 

“Just be yourself, be cool.”

“Pick one.”

“You know, I bet he thinks you hate him.” 

“What?” You hissed, “Why would he think that? And—Why would he give a shit, plenty of people hate their boss. Not that I hate him, I don’t, just—”

“Hey!” Shen’s voice cut over your nervous chatter, and you couldn’t stop your knee-jerk reaction of turning to look at him—and spotting Abbot just a couple of steps behind. Shen patted you on the shoulder, settling down beside you as Abbot rounded the table. Your eyes glued to your beer instinctively as he shrugged out of his jacket, sitting down beside Ellis. And you thought you’d just managed to be subtle enough—until both Shen and Ellis kicked you lightly under the table. It took everything in you not to kick back, instead lifting your head to meet Abbot’s eye, plastering a small smile on your lips. 

“Hi.” 

“Hello.” There was a little lean to his lo, a friendly tease that you felt like you hadn’t earned. And there was eye contact—heavy, steady eye contact as he folded his arms on the table. You tried to ignore the traitorous little flip in your stomach as you hurriedly lowered your eyes to the table, picking your beer up and taking a swig to try and drown the flurrying butterflies.  

“We miss anything good?” Shen plied. Ellis shook her head. 

“We were just talking about renewing our lease.” 

“I forgot you two were roommates,” Abbot commented. Ellis must’ve told him, and you couldn’t fathom why he’d remember. 

“What’s the verdict?” Shen asked.

“We’re gonna stick,” You reported as you looked at him. “Rent is going up, but, like, barely…Barely.”

“And the location is too good,” Ellis tacked on. “Half an hour to the Pitt walking, fifteen minutes by car—utilities don’t suck, either.” 

“Decent space,” You added, “And allows dogs—if this one goes through with getting a dog.”

“I’m still in research and development.” 

“Aren’t you allergic?” Shen nudged your arm. 

“Yeah, but not deathly. And if she picks a breed that doesn’t shed much and has a low can f 1 gene—” 

“I want to adopt from a shelter—” 

“So I’ll probably be moving out as soon as that happens,” You teased, “Because god knows she’ll wind up with a mutt.” 

“And sublet?” 

“Sure, John. You can move into my room, I’ll move into your place. Even trade.” 

“I don’t know about that—” 

“Better rent, better location.” 

“You won’t mind being further from the Pitt?”

“Nah,” You shrugged, “I like a long walk.” 

“Sure does,” Ellis rolled her eyes, “I don’t know anyone that spends more time just wandering around on their days off.” 

“Is it a crime to enjoy being outside when the sun is up?” 

“You ever think of switching to day shift?”

Abbot’s question caught you off-guard—it was like you’d fallen into such an easy rhythm with Ellis and Shen that you'd almost managed to forget that he was there. Your fingers tightened around your beer as you forced yourself to meet Abbot’s eye again. 

“Not once.” 

It was the truth, and it made Abbot’s smile widen in a way that felt dangerously vindicating. Unnerving quiet wrapped around your shared gaze, and Ellis clearing her throat was what finally snapped you out of looking at him. 

“So, hey,” Shen jumped in, “Did I tell you guys about my latest acquisition?”

“Jesus fucking christ,” You muttered over Ellis’ low whistle. 

“Another ebay war?” She asked.

“Not a war, an easy buy,” Shen insisted, “You know, for—”

“Yeah, your shank bank, we remember,” You insisted, smile pulling wide as both Abbot and Ellis’ laughter catches from that side of the table. “That weird-ass collection of antique medical equipment—fucking medical history nerd.” 

“I keep them as a display!” 

“Must really get ‘em going on a date night. Nothing hotter to a woman than rusty scalpels,” You batted back, nudging Shen’s shoulder with yours. You didn’t mean to catch Abbot’s eye on your way back to looking at Ellis again. And this look didn’t hold for as long as the one before it—but it was just long enough to reawaken the butterflies, even as Shen insisted,

“This one isn’t even rusty!”

--  

As you turned in for the night, Ellis teased you, insisted, “See, it wasn’t that bad.” 

You didn’t argue, because she wasn't wrong—it wasn’t the worst way to spend an afternoon out. But it was…Different. 

Your aversion to Dr. Abbot’s attention had started your first week at the Pitt, when he’d stuck close during an intubation. He hadn’t been breathing down your neck, but his steady focus had made you so damn nervous. You were used to your attendings being just a little scattered, torn in six different directions. And other matters had vied for Abbot’s attention, sure, but he hadn’t heeded them until the patient was in the clear.

You’d started to avoid his gaze after that, and it had just become second nature. Avoiding eye contact turned into avoiding him during the quiet moments of your shifts, which turned into a patient-treatment-only conversational focus. Abbot consulted on your cases, made recommendations, listened to your rationalizations. 

When he did insist on meeting your eye, you gave him just a long enough look to show that you’d heard him, but never anything more. You’d avoided palling around with him, even though you palled around with your fellow residents, and with other attendings—but you were comfortable with them. 

And Abbot didn’t make you uncomfortable, per se. But the nerves that had welled around him during your first few weeks at the Pitt had never really gone away. If you were hard-pressed to examine and classify your feelings, you would (grudgingly) sort them into the mild to moderately romantic category. You blamed him for that entirely.

It wasn't fair, of course. He was handsome, knowledgeable, charming when he wanted to be. He was an amazing physician, an excellent teacher. And it wasn't his fault you had a bit of competency kink. Abbot had never made you feel anything but valued—and nervous.

Besides, it was embarrassing to admit that you had a crush on a man that you’d hardly looked in the eye for the last few years. 

You could understand how Abbot may’ve thought you didn’t like him—if he really thought that. But he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who needed everyone to like him. It probably helped, sure, but you were positive that your countenance had never caused a slow-down or a hitch in the ER, no matter what Ellis said. You were just focused—and since when was that a bad thing? 

Either way, today had been kinda…okay. You’d made nice with Abbot, made eye contact multiple times without Ellis or Shen kicking you in the shins again. Whatever wound up happening, you’d tried, and they couldn’t take that away from you, right? 

You settled in bed, letting your eyes slip closed, drawing in a deep breath to relax yourself.

For all your initial irritation, Ellis was right—it wasn’t that bad. 

But it didn’t stop Abbot’s warm gaze from lingering behind your eyelids when you closed them, and it couldn’t keep the mirthful roll of his chuckle from playing through your mind as you tried to drift off. 

-- 

You decided to make it a little experiment, approach it as something that you could train yourself out of. Seeing him over drinks had laid the groundwork—and you had managed to look at him twice a few shifts ago, hadn’t you? 

You went into your next shift determined to look Abbot in the eye three times.

You only managed it once when you passed him by the board—a glance and a small wave.

The smile that he returned flustered you so much that you nearly walked into the sandwich cart, and it scared you out of looking at him for the rest of the night. As a matter of fact, it scared you out of it the next shift, and the one after that. 

You talked yourself out of the whole foolish endeavor. You’d managed to work with Abbot perfectly well before, why change things now? Especially when looking at him seemed to awaken something girlish and fluttering inside of you—and you couldn’t afford to be girlish and fluttering at work. 

-- 

She was doing it again. 

Jack had thought they had turned a corner after Shen and Ellis had invited them all out together, but things seemed to be moving in reverse. It had gone beyond sticking in his craw—it was almost nagging at him now, and worse now that he knew what the full force of her focus was like. It was easy to brush off before, but these days Jack was hard-pressed to admit that he felt something in him wilt whenever she avoided his eye. 

She was making a meal of it now, focused stalwartly as she instructed Javadi on setting a bone. He’d seen her head tip in his direction a couple of times, but she’d always given her head a little shake before refocusing. Was the shake for Javadi? For him? 

“...You didn’t hear me, did you,” Ellis asked, forcing him to refocus. He had heard her—and he could feign that his silence had been fueled by contemplation. He turned away from the treatment bay, arms folded across his chest. 

“See if the OR can take Mr. Tosches yet," He instructed. "I don’t want him down here too long. You follow up with the raccoon kid?” 

“That’s my next stop.” 

“Perfect, thanks.” 

“Sure—Hey, are you coming by this weekend?”

That weekend. He’d been dodging giving Ellis an answer for the last couple of weeks. She’d invited him to the last four get-togethers at the apartment, but he’d never made it to one, either because he was working, or because he just wasn’t in the mood to socialize. 

He wasn’t sure he was in the mood now, but…A fleeting smile flashed through his mind. They’d seemed to come easier to her when they were away from the hospital. And his therapist had been nagging him about leaving the house more…

“Yeah,” He nodded. “Yeah, I can make it.” 

Ellis didn’t cover her surprise well, but her, “kay, sweet. I’ll text you the address," Told him that she was just as surprised by his answer as he was.

Abbot nodded, casting another glance toward the treatment bay before turning away fully. It was just an experiment, he told himself. He would see if her smiles for him came easier outside of work, or not at all. 

If it was not at all, he’d let it go, once and for all.

--  

“Is there any coffee?” 

The question made you freeze in front of your cabinet. Your eyes darted through its contents, but you didn’t take in a damn thing. He was in your kitchen. He never came to these things, why the hell did he come to this one?

“Uh—” You turned, looking around your kitchen as though you’d never been there before. “It’s um—Yeah. Right there. It might not be hot, though. I can turn the pot back on.” 

“I’ve got it.” 

“You're on shift tonight?”

“Mhm.”

You nodded, turning back to the cabinet. Hell, what did you open it for? Goddamn, but you came in here looking for something—You huffed, shoving the cabinet door closed as you scrubbed your hand across your forehead. He wasn’t allowed to do this, he wasn’t allowed to make you feel this out of sorts in your own damn kitchen. 

“Everything alright?” 

“You know, I feel like half the time you talk to me, you’re asking if I’m okay.” It was out of your mouth before you could stop it, and embarrassment sprang up the second it did. “I should, um—You need a mug, don’t you,” You muttered, turning to the other cabinet, and glancing back toward the living room when you heard a swell of laughter. Damnit, but Ellis sent you into the kitchen for what? Napkins? Napkins would be in the cabinet.

“Well forgive me for being concerned when one of my best residents seems to spend half of her shifts avoiding me.” 

You whirled around, too stunned to do anything but meet Jack’s eye. The steady contact seemed to catch the both of you off-guard. Your mouth worked wordlessly for a moment as your mind reeled. What the hell could you say to that? Well—what would you say if you were talking to Ellis or Shen? 

“...Just one of your best residents?” 

Abbot’s brows lifted, his lips quirk with a smile, and your stomach filled with that girlish fluttering again. 

“You’re certainly not avoiding me now.”

You press your mouth together, gaze instinctively dropping to the floor. 

“I don’t avoid you at work, either. I’m just—” You turned back to the cabinet, reaching into it for a mug. “I’m focused when I'm at the Pitt.” 

“Seem to be focused right now, too.” 

“Do you want a mug for your coffee or not?” 

“Oh, that old excuse.” 

“Fine, drink it from the pot. That’s Parker’s machine, anyway. She’ll kill you.” 

“She wouldn’t. We’re short-staffed as it is.” 

“Well, that’s true.” You crossed the kitchen, holding the mug out. And, though you knew the answer, you asked, “Do you need milk or sugar?” 

“No.” 

“Alright.” You turned, reaching for the cabinet by the coffee machine. Maybe it was something in there.

“...You don’t really think I avoid you," You plied, unable to stop yourself.

“Certainly avoid looking at me.”

“Focused.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“You’re fine to look at.” 

“Oh?”

“Good—Good to—” No, nothing in that cabinet. Check the next one. At least, you needed to get a few feet away from Abbot before you said anything else stupid. “You’re fine.” 

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” 

“...Look at me.” 

It was so firm that you went still in front of your cabinet again, hands on the knobs, doors half-open as your heart leaps into your throat.

“Excuse me?”

“We’re not at work, you can’t need to be that focused. If I’m so fine to look at, look at me.” 

Your fingers flexed around the knobs, palms growing sweaty. 

“Ellis asked me to grab something for her and you’ve already distracted me enough.”

“Is that so.” 

“You can be very distracting sometimes.” For fucksake. What was it about being alone with this man that had your head so horribly scrambled?

“I suddenly feel like I oughta apologize,” He commented.

“I feel like you’re making fun of me.” 

“A little.” 

You scoffed out a laugh, your nerves only worsening when you heard Jack take a few steps closer, saw him lower his coffee onto the counter beside you. 

“It won’t take long,” He reassured, raising his hand to close one of the cabinet doors. “One quick look.” 

You drew in a deep breath, planting your hand on the counter and turning to face Jack with wide eyes. You were prepared to stare at him pointedly—but you faltered at the look on his face. His eyes were softer than they had any right being. They searched your expression, sweeping over your nose, across your cheeks, to your lips, and up again—as if he was seeing you for the first time. 

“...See?” He murmured. “This isn’t so bad.” 

You struggled to swallow, throat dry; your face was flooding with heat. If this was a cartoon, you were certain that your heart would be beating out of your chest. 

“No,” You finally managed, shaking your head a little, unable to tear your eyes from his, “No, it isn’t.” 

Jack’s smile widened as he leaned against the counter a touch, fingers skimming against yours. And you knew that you ought to look away, go ask Ellis what she sent you into the damn kitchen for in the first place, but you couldn't bring yourself to move.

“You just gonna keep staring at me, Jack?” You murmured. His brows jumped slightly at the use of his first name, lips quirking with a smirk.

“You’re staring, too.”

“Making up for apparently avoiding you.” 

“Very kind of you.”

“Do what I can.” 

Maybe it was better that he was looking at your face, anyway—if he looked down, he might see the goosebumps sweeping up your arm from the gentle sweep of his fingertips against yours. It felt pathetic to get so worked up from such a simple touch. Goddamn, did he look at everyone like this? Did everyone feel like this when he looked at them? There was no way—if it was, nothing would ever get done at the Pitt. 

“Hey, did you find the Triscuits?” 

Ellis bottle snapped you out of the trance-like stare, and you whirled away from Jack like he was trying to set you on fire. The Triscuits, son of a bitch, that was what you were sent to look for. 

“I just—I just saw them,” You fumbled, pulling the cabinet open again. 

“My fault,” Abbot spoke up. “I asked for some coffee.” 

“You’re on tonight?” Ellis frowned, and you were relieved to hear her come deeper into the kitchen. “I thought you were taking the day.” 

“We had two call outs. Matter of fact, I should get going.”

You glanced doggedly back toward Jack, watching him pick his mug up and take a deep swig. You busied yourself with poking through the drawer beneath the cupboard, vaguely catching Abbot saying his goodbyes to Ellis in the background. Jeez, did the Trisuits fucking evaporate? 

You glanced toward the mug as Jack set it down in the sink, and, against your better judgement, met Jack’s eye when he turned to look at you. 

“Thanks for the coffee.” 

“Sure,” You nodded. “Have a good shift.” 

“Good luck finding those, uh…” He glanced toward Ellis. “Triscuits?” 

“Uh-huh,” She nodded. “Thanks for coming, man.” 

“Have a good night.” 

You listened to his retreating footsteps, marked the opening and closing of the door…And tried not to die from complete mortification when Ellis tapped your shoulder, then pointed out the box of Triscuits where it was sitting on the counter. 

Next Part

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @amneris21 ; 

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 

@millllenniawrites ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; 

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @realwhoreforfictionalmen

 ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @artsymaddie

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

[kaxela]

kuroo bf headcanons w/ short stories

₍^. .^₎⟆ (kurooxfem!reader)

not proofread.

When you would complain that you're not feeling well, Kuroo would always diagnose you + come up with the perfect solution to your problem. EVERYTIME.

"Babe," You cry out. "I'm not feeling well for some reason. Like, I feel dizzy?"

This man runs up to you all worried. He starts putting the back of his hand to your forehead. He kind of ponders what may be wrong, and then has his little aha moment.

"Did you eat anything at all today?"

"No-"

You were going to add on more, but that 'no' was all he needed to hear. He swiftly digs into into his cross-sling bag. He frickin' pulls out a convenient banana and just hands it to you.

"Low blood sugar, babe. Here ya go."

Okay, I don't know why. I totally see Kuroo playing basketball here and there. Except it's just for fun and not competitive compared to his volleyball. He loves bringing you out to play with him.

The two of you were at a local park near your home. You were neck to neck with him at a game of basketball. Kuroo could be absolutely insufferable as a defender.

Just before you think you're able to shoot the ball in the hoop, he easily defends your shot.

"Bam!" He exclaims as the ball flies back to his palms. No doubt, he's a middle blocker.

You measly try to smack the ball before he throws a 2-pointer. You fail, miserably. He somehow manages to flawlessly makes it in without the ball hitting the rim.

Moments later . . .

"Kuroo, I want to be able to do dunk." You hop with the ball in your grasp. To no luck, you aren't able to do an insane vertical jump like your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend absolutely dies at the sight of you attempting to be like a D1 basketball player. You swear his hyena laugh could be heard miles away. Without even thinking, he grabs you by the hips and carries you up to the net.

"Go, go, go! Dunk!" Kuroo chants.

Swoosh.

The ball fell right through the hoop. He holds you right back on the ground, and you immediately go in for a hug.

You aren't as skilled as he is, but you're so incredibly grateful that he makes sure you have a good time

You know how he canonically sleeps with two pillows smushed to his face. He would definitely use your thighs to do the exact same thing.

It was a chilly Thursday evening. There were no major plans for you today. As for right now, you were waiting for Kuroo to come back from his business dinner.

You hear the door unlock, and here came in your boyfriend. His eyes were half-lidded, he lazily threw the house keys on the table. You were excited to see him, but a little shocked to see him come back so soon.

"Oh, you're back home so soon. Did you guys end up drinking?" You question.

He shakes his head, "Nah, I didn't feel like it," Kuroo slumps on the sofa alongside with you. He lets out an exasperated sigh. Something at the dinner must have bummed him out, or he just really had a long day.

"I wanted to spend the rest of the night with you. Plus, I'm kind a tired." He stretches his arms out and lets out a huge yawn.

Admittedly, your face slowly turns beet red. You were happy to hear that your boyfriend wanted to spend his time with you for tonight.

You reach over to him and begin patting his hair, and massage his scalp. Kuroo hums to your gentle movements and surrenders to your touch. He closes his eyes and begins laying your body down on the sofa.

"I'll just take a quick nap, kay?..."

You were just a teensy bit flustered, but you let him rest up. You always end up being swayed by this man's devilish handsome looks.

Over and over again.

You move his bangs over to the side to get a good look of his face. You always notice his face is so relaxed and pretty when he's just resting, eyes closed. Unexpectedly, Kuroo gently purrs and grabs your legs closer to his head.

His hands wrap around your thighs and he wedges his head between them.

"Um, Tetsu?"

No response. All you can hear the next second is soft in and out breaths come out of him. You giggle a little, however this position felt just a little suggestive. You would feel so bad to just wake him up now, so you kind of just let him have his way with you.

[sturnmeovr]

Prone Bone

Inspired by ♡

Matt 

“Fu-uck,” your voice raspy from the moans you had been holding back all night, failing to suppress most of them. “Matt,” you muffled out before burying your face into the pillow.

The soft sounds of skin slapping against each other took over the room as he plowed into you at a steady pace, each thrust making the hot pressure build up in your abdomen. Matt pulls out completely, watching as he pushes his thick rod deeper into you, earning a pornographic moan from your plump lips. The heaven-like sound is too much for him to handle, making him thrust into you in one sharp movement before letting his body collapse on yours. His stomach pressed firmly against your back as he snakes a hand around your neck, pulling you closer to him as he begins to fuck you into a senseless state. You let out a string of soft moans as he leaves a trail of sloppy kisses from your ear to the nape of your neck, building up your orgasm until you come undone underneath him.

He liked the position because it gave him a chance to show you his dominant side, but he’d much rather see the faces you made while he rammed himself deep inside of you. Something about the way you pinned your bottom lip between your teeth and knitted your eyebrows together in pleasure - it did it for him every time.

w.c - 233

Chris 

“Love seeing you- Mmm- take my dick like this,” Chris groans, gripping your left ass cheek so hard you already knew there would be bruises that match his fingertips in the morning.

A string of submissive whimpers escapes your lips, “Chris,” you whine, throwing an arm back in an attempt to stop him from rearranging your insides like he always did when he had you in this position. It was one of his favorites. Usually, it would start out in the doggy position, but the way he used his girthy shaft was too much for you at times, leaving you pinned to the bed after he got fed up with all your running. Each time you pulled away, his need to fuck you harder increased.

When Chris he sees your hand fly back, pushing on his waist as your own way of telling him to slow down, he lets his raspy voice break through, “move your hand.” You let out a squeal as he interlocks his fingers with yours, placing a knee on the bed to give him just enough leverage to fuck himself into you even harder. One of his favorite sites was watching you squirm underneath him as that one-of-a-kind euphoria feeling takes over your body. A feeling he was the cause of. He couldn’t be prouder of himself.

w.c - 221

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @emely9274 @loveparqdise @sweetshuga @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4

[mv1simp]

Just Hold On, We’re Going Home ♥️

Max Verstappen x Fiancé! Reader

I got my eye on you, you’re everything that I see (I want your hot love and emotion, endlessly)

After a particularly bad argument with his father, Max is mentally checked out and needs to be pulled out of the dark place his mind has gone too. As his fiancé, you know just what to say to make him feel your love and bring him safely home.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, orgasm denial, I know I said I would never write subby max and that was apparently a LIE, but he’s more of a soft pure loverboy who needs you ok, you both have daddy issues, mild angst and childhood trauma, 3.1k WC

You can tell your fiancé’s mind is somewhere else right now, instead of at the intimate dinner you’re sharing at a cosy restaurant. You know this because you know Max well, having been friends before you two started dating, meeting as mutuals within the same extended group, and then online where you would both take a break from your demanding careers to enjoy a friendly grand theft auto competition.

Your friendship had gotten closer when you’d proved to be someone he could trust and always rely on. Especially when it came to talking about his father - a very multi layered relationship given that Max owed a large part of his F1 success to Jos’s discipline and the fact that, well, said discipline had involved emotional abuse on a good day and physical abuse on a bad one. It was a complex dynamic to unpack, and one that he didn’t really do with anyone - because he couldn’t trust anyone outside his family to not leak it to the media somehow. And within his family, the only one who came close to understanding was his little sister Victoria - who wanted to talk about it just as little as Max did.

However, you knew a thing or two about complex relationships with parents, growing up in a household with a luxury property developer tyrant of a father, and a homemaker mother who would never dare come between her husband and his demands for absolute perfection from his children, especially from you - the eldest. Similarly to Max, you owed a large part of your highly successful investment company and Oxford financial degree to your father’s attitude, which had been so sweet on days you performed, and then like a dark thunderstorm on the days you didn’t.

So you’d been the only one to see the look in Max’s eye one night when he’d had one too many to drink at a house party, and had wandered out into the garden by himself. You’d spotted him leaving, already having a growing soft spot for your friend at that stage, and had followed him out. It had taken you a while to find him amongst the dark sprawling bushes, but when you did, you promptly sat down next to the much taller Dutchman and didn’t ask him anything. Instead, you told him about the time you’d scored 99.9 on a notoriously difficult advanced calculus exam, and you’d proudly told your father about the result of your months of study, top in your class - and he’d responded by coldly demanding why you didn’t get the 100. What’d you say to him? Max slurred, morbidly intrigued by the story.

Nothing, I was way too upset I'd disappointed him. But I did go fight the Mathematics head professor about giving me the extra 0.1. You shrugged, telling him you probably should’ve just gone to frickin family therapy instead and saved yourself arguing for 45 minutes only to find out 99.9 was the highest possible mark anyways.

Max looked at you, blue eyes intense in the moonlight. You in turn looked back at him with nervous doe eyes, and when he didn’t say anything, anxiously started apologising. Perhaps you’d read his emotions wrong, you didn’t mean to overstep and relate to his own relationship with his father-

Max cuts you off to explain what had been on his mind. I’m sorry, you - you argued for 45 minutes with the department head for an extra 0.1? On top of 99.9? This time, when your gazes meet, you both burst into drunk giggles at the sheer absurdity of a five foot nothing, 15 year old schoolgirl going toe to toe with a grumpy old professor for such a thing.

He’d started opening up to you after that, bit by bit peeling back the onion layers, because you always met his confessions with no judgement because this was his narrative, and helped him reflect on his emotions and understand why, 20 years on, he still couldn't accept a compliment but easily responded to insults. And when you two finally became a couple after a very convoluted weekend in Ibiza - involving multiple schemes from both parties, various slutty outfit choices from Max that showed off his abs, and your use of one (1) Charles Leclerc to make his Dutch childhood karting rival jealous (a story for another time) - you’d heard the full tale of what Max’s upbringing had been like.

And now, 5 years on from the infamous Ibiza weekend, and sitting across from him at dinner as his fiancée, you know instantly from the look in his eyes what's troubling him. You touch his large hand gently to draw him back in, and with a startle he comes back to you, apologising. It’s been a shit last few races, yeah? You start, going straight to the source of his worries. And now a big one this weekend, Zandvoort, your home race.

Max sighs, nodding, grateful for your ability to pick up on what's on his mind without him needing to say it. On your drive home he rants passionately about all the bullshit decisions his team has been making and the problems with the car he's asked to get fix for months. You soothe him reassuringly, rubbing his hand where it rests firmly on your thigh as his other drives, chiming in to agree with his critiques and make him laugh with jokes to diffuse his tension.

And that night he shows you just how thankful he is for all your understanding, picking you up in a display of strength that always has you needy and dripping for him. He smirks as you beg him to take you to bed and fuck me, please Maxie, after he has you breathlessly stretched out on his large, thick fingers. Like the good fiance he is he gives you what you want, all his stress melting away with each strong thrust into your small frame underneath him, your tiny hands clinging desperately to his broad shoulders.

You're furious the next morning when you wake up to multiple calls that there'd been a massive PR scandal within one of your principal investing companies, sending your high profile clients into panic - including your father, who demanded you fly out to London right now to sort this out. You'd been ready to send your executive manager out instead, not wanting to miss this important race for Max - but he'd chuckled and reassured you he was sure he could handle it - having done some odd 200 races or another. So after giving him a guilty kiss, you two fly off in opposite directions. You'd meant to have arrived to the paddock by Saturday noon at the latest, in time for qualifying at least, but London takes longer than expected. You don't come until halfway through the race on Sunday, and see him take P2 after multiple mistakes on the track - both from him and his team. Despite the objectively good result, you know Max would not be pleased. Seeing the stormy expression on his face on the podium after he'd tersely greeted you post-race, you give him his space to cool off, knowing it's not personal. Instead you catch up with the other WAGs and laugh at Charles who still faintly blushes at the sight of you, thinking about Ibiza. But later, when you head to the Redbull garage, you hear raised voices arguing in Dutch - before Jos emerges from Max's room and storms away. You pause before deciding to go in, gently asking how he's doing.

Max, as you expected, scoffs and sarcastically asks how do you think he's doing. You continue reassuring him, being used to seeing him like this after a bad race, and place a soft hand on his shoulder to soothe him - only for him to rip it off you almost violently, making you flinch in surprise. He yells at you to stop pretending like you understood a damn thing, as if you'd have any idea what kind of high pressure he has to deal with compared to your comfortable office job.

You manage to hold it together as you tell him you're going to leave, you'll be flying back to Monaco and will talk to him there once he's calmed down. He rolls his eyes, telling you to get out, then and you make sure you're well away from the paddock and in the privacy of a car before you left yourself cry. Max had definitely been angry around you before, even enraged - but you'd never felt the full brunt of it come out and attack you so directly. Taking a deep breath, you focus on calming yourself down, as the argument brings up your anxieties from your own father - who had no problem raising his voice when he was angry. By the time you land in Monaco, you're ready to head back to the office, where you end up accidentally sleeping on your couch after tidying up the rest of your PR scandal.

The next day as you're coming home from work, unlocking the door to your shared apartment with Max, you stumble forward when the door is yanked open. On the other side is your rather panicked looking fiancee, who says that he'd thought that you- he swallows, looking like he was about to be sick -that you'd left. Forever. Perplexed, you tell him that you’d never do that, not without talking to him, and he launches into a frantic apology, saying that he regretted his words so much, that you didn't deserve to have him take his anger out onto you. Grateful for the sincere apology, you let him know with a genuine smile, saying that you're completely okay now, you had understood he’d been frustrated in the heat of the moment.

But Max's worried looks at you don't stop as you wander off to take a shower and then continue over your favourite dinner that he'd cooked, uncomfortable with the compliments you gave him about it - as per usual, still struggling to accept a kind word about anything he did. When you feel his upset gaze on you again when you're cuddled against his shirtless chest, watching a movie, you decide enough is enough and pressed pause to gently ask him what was on his mind.

That I just let all my anger out onto you like that without any hesitation. And the things I said about your job not being important - God, it’s something my dad would have said. His guilt at having hurt you with his cruel words make his blue eyes bright with the threat of tears. He says he couldn't just accept that you'd let it go because you thought it was fine, because it wasn't, not really, don't ever let me speak to you like that again, schat.

Bringing yourself up to straddle your fiance's wide lap, you settle in comfortably and closely examine the helpless look in his pretty eyes. It's rare for Max to get so worked about something like this, being the rather laid back guy he is off the track. But when he does get like this, all pent up from stress, his father’s expectations heavy on one shoulder and the fear of turning out like him on the other, there’s very few ways to pull him out of his head. Gun to your head, you’ll admit, you had your own personal favourite method for helping Max unwind. Because on nights like these, it's the the only time he'll hand the control over to you in the bedroom and the only place where he'll accept your compliments. With a teasing smile, you pepper him with gentle kisses, erasing away every tense line on his face.

Sure, Max you whisper breathily into his ear, biting the edge of it, I guess I did forgive you too easily. Maybe I should make you work for it, hmm? A delicious pink flush spreads across Max's cheeks, making you grin wickedly and press deep kisses into his soft mouth. He breathlessly whines when you pull away to tease your hand down his muscles chest, stopping just above his low waisted sweats. You can already feel how hard he is underneath you with the impressive semi he’s sporting. Choosing to ignore it, you climb off him and pull him along with you too. He follows you like a lost dog to where you walk over to the kitchen, dropping your hoodie as you went, to reveal a cute La Perla pink set underneath that he'd given you for an anniversary.

When you stop to lean against the counter, eyeing him coyly, he tilts his head down curiously - only to have you tangle your small hands through his messy, long locks and guide him all the way down, until he's on his knees below you. He looks positively delicious, all soft and flushed, as you coo that he needs to prove just how sorry he is, by putting that mean mouth of his to work and eating you out, yeah?

He nods eagerly, burying his large nose right into your core and breathing in, licking furiously through your thin panties and when he tries to yank the lacy garment out of the way, you swat his hand back, telling him no, not yet, he didn’t deserve it.

He whines openly then, teary and breathless against you as he kisses along your thighs, the swell of your ass, and then to your delicate ankle as you teasingly stop him coming any closer with a foot to his toned chest, your gold anklet dangling. Running a hand through his hair again, you tug on it firmly so you can smirk down at him when he begs you please, schat, I promise I’ll be s'good for you-

Your resolve is crumbling at seeing your normally in control fiancé reduced to putty in your small hands. Trying to maintain your willpower, you teasingly pull your pink bralette off first, enjoying the way Max's breath hitches, eyes wide with pure need, as he follows your hands ever so slowly slide your panties down your legs. But he still doesn't move, fists clenched into his thighs, desperate blue eyes looking up at you, waiting for your approval to touch you. You throw him a bone and slide one soft thigh over his broad shoulder, your other leg still leaning against the counter, giving him irresistible access to your dripping pussy. Go on then, baby, you tease, here's your reward.

He buries his tongue into you in half a millisecond, eating you out like he's kneeling at your altar and worshipping your thighs. His large hands squeeze your curvy ass, pulling you even closer onto his tongue as he hungrily eats you out like a starved man. You're moaning sweetly, telling him he's doing so good for you, it feels amazing, that you wonder how the world would react if they knew their favourite F1 champion was as good at eating pussy as he was at driving racecars.

Your praise has him keening, now desperately kissing and sucking your core, and somehow both your thighs have ended up draped across his strong shoulders, his large palms still squeezing your ass. This angle lets him slide in deeper than you’ve ever felt his mouth reach, face completely buried between your thick thighs, and with a few more talented flicks you’re lean back against the counter and squirting right onto his waiting tongue.

Dazed from the intensity of your orgasm, it takes you a few minutes to come down from your high, and Max slowly licks your clit in the meantime, toeing the line to overstimulation. Standing back up shakily from potentially the most mind blowing oral you've ever had in your life, you tilt his chin up to look at you with a gentle hand, giving him a kiss because he was such a good boy, all for me, yeah baby?

He nods furiously, almost looking like a cute Labrador with his blonde hair and blue eyes and you giggle at the mental image, telling him he’s earned his next treat. Max practically stumbles after you as you gently tug him up by his jaw and back over to the comfortable sofa, where he sits down after you playfully shove his chest. His muscular thighs spread wide to make a perfect throne for you to climb onto. He's still in his boxers, his bulge straining against the damp material, and you tease him with a smug smirk, asking if he'd already cum in his pants just from eating you out, like a dirty little perv?

He desperately moans out his No, no, promise I didn’t, held it all back to fill inside you, please- He becomes breathless from your mean hands that tease his cock further through his boxers. When he tried to redirect you, guiding your hand under his boxers to where he really needs it, you shove him away and tell him to keep his hands to himself. You demand to know why he thinks he deserves to put his gross, sticky cum anywhere near your sweet, precious hole, is he at least going to use some manners and ask politely?

Max pants, face flushed and blonde strands attractively stuck to his forehead as he feverishly begs you, please, schat, he needed to be inside of you so bad, he couldn't take it, hadn't he been so good for you already? You can tell your fiance is close to his tipping point, and you almost send him over the edge with a smooth motion as you slip his fully erect, huge cock out of his boxers and start lazily jerking him off. Sliding your fingers into his mouth for him to lick, you smirk as he does exactly that. Using his spit on your hands to give him a couple good pumps - making his breath hitch as he struggles to hold back his orgasm - you guide his throbbing length to your dripping pussy, which is so ready for a second round.

Max screws his eyes shut, head thrown back, as you wickedly torment him some more, dragging his tip teasingly along your puffy lips, drenching him with your slick. His hands dig into the sofa, desperately trying to resist the urge to touch you like you'd ordered him to earlier. And when you finally sink down on him, all the way to his base, he's moaning and begging again, tears in the corner of his eyes as you slowly ride him - edging his poor cock with the relief of your tight, warm cunny but not giving it quite enough pressure. And when your thighs are starting to get tired from the effort, and Max has ripped holes on your sofa while gripping the fabric, you know it's time to let him take control again.

Guiding his hands gently to your waist, you lean forward into his firm chest to whisper Maxie, baby, it's too much for you, can he please help you out and make you cum again-

His eyes snap open, wide blue eyes coming to stare into your pleading doe ones as you hand the power over to him, all dished up on a silver platter with a pretty please. He brings his forehead forward to lean against yours, your ragged breaths meeting as you feel shivers run up your spine in anticipation of what’s coming. Then, with an all too familiar smirk returning to his face, he tightens his hands into a bruising grip on your waist and easily begins bouncing you up and down on his fat cock. His wide thighs, which had been straining in an effort to hold back, now flex as he thrusts deeply into you from below, making you wail at the furious change in pace and you're screaming his name, proving once again just how good he makes you feel. You two barely last another few seconds before you're cumming, your name on his lips as he pumps an obscenely thick creampie into you.

You stay like that for a while, sweaty and tangled in each others arms, exchanging gentle kisses and loving affirmations with him still deep inside you, until sleep starts to take over. Later, after you'd showered because wow, that had been a particularly filthy session, you find yourself stroking his damp hair as he lies against your chest, the rest of his body on the bed to keep the weight off you. Thank you, liefje, he murmurs sleepily against you. At your inquisitive hmm? he presses a loving kiss to your skin, telling you his thanks was for always knowing how to calm me down. For always bringing me back home. I love you.

You smile in the dark, warmth blooming across your chest as you press a kiss to his head. Always, Max, just like you do for me. I love you too.

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

A/N: SOO i never thought i'd write this but after zandervoot im manifesting the return of max supremacy with this. had to rewrite a bunch of times cause genuinly couldn’t picture max as sub instead of dom so lmk what u guys think!! Also… should i do a part 2 where its the reader with daddy issues instead hehehe 😼😼😮‍💨

[swtsupernatural]

S.W || SILK & SHAPESHIFTERS: PT2

Sam Winchester x Thick!Fem!Reader

Content Warning reader being shorter than Sam, reader desc as having thick thighs, dean being annoying, swearing, reader wanting to fuck sam, a bit of sexual tension that is not yet resolved (pls be patient with me)

Summary Fluff, (Sexual tension lowk) strangers to acquaintances to lovers(?) - Posing as Sam Winchester's girlfriend at a charity ball for a hunting case isn't so bad, that is until you have to do actual work. You might kill Dean when you get out of here, and hopefully get your hands on your fake boyfriend.

W.C. 2k words

(Original) Ask anon: A: Hello hello! I'm back again; I'm going to change my request style a bit, how about a female reader with thick thighs? Make her with Sam please

Playlist: ♫ Blue Jeans - Lana Del Rey, Body - Megan Thee Stallion, She's My Collar - Gorillaz

A.N. part 2 finally ! was not expecting winter break to be so busy...more to come so so soon my loves. Also, so sorry to make this into 3 parts I swear im not trying to torture yall - xx claire

Taglist: @callsign-ember @kaiserpoo @lovelymax10

Inside the estate your once flushed face grew even warmer — this time from the heaters, not Sam’s undeniably sexy voice. Past the elegant entrance and wide, old doors was a large ballroom type area with an intricate ceiling that you had to crane your neck up to look at. The thick banners hanging around the room were a deep blue, showing images of marine animals in a chilling climate, most looking disheartened or sad. In swirling letters on the top of each banner read: “Marine Life Fundraiser: 2025” 

“How much you wanna bet they don’t even know half of the animals they’re donating to?” Sam piped up.

“Not a lot. These events are more about having a nice evening in a way too expensive outfit, showing off your very rich, sexy boyfriend/husband or very pretty, young girlfriend/wife, and doing that rich person laugh.”

“I don’t know if we’re being very convincing then.”

“What do you—

Sam snaked his right arm around your waist, the soft velvety fabric of your dress ruffling under his sleek suit. He gripped your firmly but not tightly, his hand gently digging into your soft flesh through your thin dress. He smiled…no, smirked (you weren’t sure) down at you.

“That better, pretty young girlfriend?” Your eyes dilated in seconds and you fought to keep your eyes off of his. 

“Y-yea...” You wanted to groan at how small and bashful your voice sounded, you never stuttered. 

“Can you guys feel up each other after we finish this?” Dean’s husky voice sounded in both of your ears a bit muffled but it startled both of you, making you feel almost compromised. Sam loosened his grip on you only slightly, letting out a sigh from his throat that went over your neck and left an intense tingling feeling.

“You wanted us to play the part,” You muttered to Dean after you flipped on your ear piece, a gentle hand on Sam’s chest as you made your way to the bar. 

“yn, can you put on something over your tight ass dress so Sam can frickin focus?” Your mouth dropped open, scoffing and tilting your head to the side in fake offense. 

“Can you stop looking at me and do your job?”

“I am, but it's hard when you two keep eye fucking eachother. Get your drinks, socialize, and distract the remaining family grill ‘em if you can. And please, listen to your ear piece.” Before you can reply, your eyes land on Dean in the crowds of suits and dresses, who is looking at you unamused. You smile, and he rolls his eyes playfully. You knew he wasn’t actually mad, but you also knew you did need to focus. You ordered a drink, Sam looming very close to your back, ordering after you. He slides the bartender his card, taking your drinks and leading you to the back of the room.

“So…you seen them?” You shook your head, knowing he was referring to the family. You scanned the room pointedly, tuning out the music, chatter, and all the bright lights and costly chandeliers in the room, finally spotting the youngest member of the family, Victor Brady, sitting with his mother. His mother had gone ‘missing’ but he never had. Based on your research, you knew the Bradys were rich of course, but you weren't sure the motives of the group of shapeshifters yet. Why were members of the family disappearing then coming back as if nothing happened? Had they really kidnapped some of them? Were the mother and son in front of you really them? How many of them were there?

“Hey, don’t worry,” Sam muttered in your hair, seeming to sense how wired-in to the family your mind was, “Let’s go talk to them. Remember, I am,” he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, flashing the fake ID Dean had handed him earlier, “Ron Fogerty, son of a wealthy businessman from Canada. And you…” he pointed a finger at your face, then moved it to direct at your purse where your fake ID resided. You pulled it out. 

“Elaina…Clifford? Really? You guys are still using the rock names?” Sam gave you a pointed look, as if saying, it wasn't my idea with his face. 

“No idea how you both don’t get in trouble more often. Anyway, I’m girlfriend, correct? We’re here to support the Brady’s Fundraiser and get to know their youngest.” 

“Bingo. Let’s go before Dean gets on our asses again.” 

Strolling arm in arm to the Brady’s table with fake smiles, you and Sam greeted his mother first, then him

In the Impala, you had told the Winchesters about recent photos of them that had been published in the local paper. The family was known for being wealthy but not unkind; and was regarded highly among those in the city. But, in the photos from the week before, the youngest, Brady, was seen holding a number of odd documents leaving the bank, then making his way in the opposite direction of his family estate. Of course, the photos did not show the small printed lines of whatever secrets he was holding…but his angry, crude expressions in the photos did not match those of the graceful man sitting in front of you.

“This is Elaina, my girlfriend. She’s very interested in wildlife and insisted she spoke to those running the fundraiser.” Sam smiled, his voice calm and collected. You nodded, and Mrs. Brady tapped Sam’s shoulder, asking him something you couldn't make out because her son’s voice was louder, closer to your ears. 

“My name is Victor. Please, sit. It is nice to meet others with a passion for doing good with what they were blessed with.” You turned to see Sam was speaking civilly with Mrs. Brady, seated across from her, and you decided to sit as well. 

“Yes, I…also must say I find this place beautiful. Your family has lived here a while, I hear.”

Victor’s face dropped, his mouth forming a thin line. “We have. But you shouldn't believe everything you hear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, trying desperately to play the part of a kind, naive woman, when all you really wanted was for him to tell you something, anything that might get you closer to what was going on. 

“Of course not, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He sighs as you trail off, and that's when you notice the dark crescents of purple under his eyes.

“No, it’s my fault. People have been saying some things, lately, about us, about my father particularly. I do not appreciate men who spread false information.”

“And I do not either, I am actually a journalist back home, Victor. I know the importance of telling a factual story.” That made him relax.

“And I am glad to hear it. My parents don’t understand that whatever they’re doing is making me look like a fool as well.” You furrowed your brows. Whatever they’re doing?

“I’m sorry. It's hard to separate from your parents' identity, especially if they're as well known as yours.” 

“Exactly. I love them, and I love these events, truly, but just because I’m young doesn't mean I won't understand all the things they keep from me.”

“I know wha–

Your words stop stuck in your throat as you feel cold liquid streamed over your legs, your mouth dropping open as the wine made you get goosebumps. You tilted your head up slowly to see…Dean; empty wine glass in his hand, the alcohol now all over your velvet dress. You look up at him with daggers in your eyes, and he already knew he was going to get it later. But the look he gives you after he apologizes and offers you some napkins suddenly makes you aware of his plan.

“So sorry again, miss, here, I’ll take you to wherever the bathroom is and…” Sam is up now, moving closer to you before you widen your eyes at him, and he tilts his head slightly in confusion before Victor speaks up.

“That won't be necessary, I will show her.” You thank him and quickly mutter a, “I’ll be right back, honey,” to Sam, who nods, finally getting what Dean was thinking. You walk away, you hear a few security guards telling Dean rather loudly that he is cut off from the bar. 

You follow Victor, hearing his expensive shoes clacking on the dark wood stairs past a number of guards, ascending until you reach a long, grand hall. He walks to the second door on the right, and you understand that this is his parents bathroom. You can feel your heart beating at a speed you didn't think possible, thanking God that you still had your purse, and the special items inside you needed for a case like this. Victor offered you a few different stain removers, finally offering you a blow dryer for the bottom half of your dress where Dean had probably spilled a hundred dollars worth of wine on you. 

“Excuse me, I’m just going to use the restroom.” Victor points to the very far corner where you see a door at the end, which is around the corner from where you stand. Your plan tumbles around your brain, keeping the blow dryer on the loudest setting as you turn on your ear piece. 

“Alright, I’ll be here,” You say to Victor with a polite smile. He nods, turning the corner as you smirk, your heels already off, hand reaching into your bag as you go through the connecting door to his parents room. It had been a fucking hassle to get the layout of this stupid estate, but if this was the main building, that meant you were in the bathroom next to the master bedroom. Bingo. 

“I’m in the bedroom,” you whisper, nearly out of breath with how fast your heart is beating.

You held your device up to your eye, sending a silent thanks to Bobby for helping you with it. You were booksmart, not handy. You weren’t a great physical hunter and didn’t have a knack for making things; but Bobby did. A couple years ago when you had both worked on a case with Shapeshifters, you’d kept some of the…sheddings, is what you agreed to call it, of two of them when they transformed. The ooze smelled awful and almost glowed once you brought it home. You’d expressed how helpful it would be to detect such ooze, almost like night vision goggles, for hunting shapeshifters. He’d agreed, and after a dozen phone calls and hours searching through his piles of junk and scrap from various cars, created a shedding detecting circle that looked like a single binocular eye.

“The parents? Holy shit, I’m a genius,” Dean’s muffled voice came in your ear.

“You got lucky. And I’m expecting a form of apology when this is over.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I have some ideas. Sure you’d rather get my typa’ apology from Sammy, though.”

“You know I can hear all of this, right?” Sam said, his voice low and quiet in your ear.

“Can you both shut up so I can focus with the two minutes I have up here?”

You quickly spotted a heap of shedding glowing in the far right corner of the room, swiftly going over to see a pile of the ooze, skin, blood, and teeth. You scrunch your face at the smell, but put your left eye through the detector again. It took you a lot longer than you wanted it to, but you found a small trace of it on a cabinet near their bed. Inside, documents with faint traces of the shedding were in your hand in minutes.

“I got something, I’m coming back down,” you mutter, folding the pieces of paper as much as you could, shoving them not so gracefully in your purse when you heard the bathroom door open. 

“Sorry! Wrong way out. I think I’ve nearly had as many drinks as the wine spilling guy.” You giggled, smiling at Victor like he was God’s gift to Earth, hoping he’d buy it. And he did. He smiled politely, washing his hands before leading you out of the bathroom commenting on how, “The stain remover worked quickly, it almost looks as good as new.”

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Triumph Of The Beast ||

Description: Captain Syverson learnt that the only way to have her was to ask her hand in marriage. So he did just that. And she was all his now, both to hold and to possess.

Pairing: Soft-Dark!Captain Syverson | Sheikha!Reader.

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Captain Syverson. This is a mature story with dark undertones so kindly browse at your own discretion. Please note that this piece is only a work of fiction that in no way aims to reinforce or propose any stereotypes to any ethnicity or race. Minors do not interact. 

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Syverson, he is lowkey messed up, smut with plot (I am sorry), possessive behavior, his obsession with her chastity, naive!reader, size kink, biting (it's Henry and his canines ffs), boob play, manhandling, power imbalance, arranged marriage, fingering, handjob, dirty talk, m!dom, f!sub, he's a man, misogyny, age gap (reader is 20's, Sy is early 40's fight me), he's lowkey intimidating, slight spanking, allusion to bondage, manipulation, slow burn-ish, maybe more dialogue than necessary, p-in-v penetration, corruption kink, no use of 'Y/n'. 

Note: Her father is not the mean Sheikh from the movie lmfao. Reader doesn't even have to be Iraqi, just Eastern that you can TOTALLY imagine yourself as because it's a frickin' story for God's sake! Ps, This blocked me so hard mid-write I nearly abandoned it lmfao, I need a break! 

.

Captain Syverson had always thought the notion of the first touch buzz to be foolish. To quote him in his own words, the electric touch that people claimed their beloved aroused within them was nothing more than a steaming pile of horseshit. 

Until now. 

As his thick and coarse battle hardened hands cupped the side of the tender face of his dear wife, the Captain's thumb darted out to quickly glide across the perfect arch of her cheekbone before it moved down to the bow of her lips, his body combusting into a thousand flames of raw desire. 

Her skin was so tender he feared it may come off if he pressed on it too hard. The structure of her body that adorned her traditional wedding attire seemed so fragile in this moment next to him and in his big old bed that the thought of ever manhandling a thing as delicate as her terrified him. The contrast of her usually confident and intelligent countenance was striking in quality to the humility with which she now offered her submission to him. 

His suspicions against his body and strength increased by the passing minute; he felt petrified to even breathe too easily near her. The fear that it may damage her in some way haunted him and filled his lungs with dread. It was not that she was the most petite thing that he had ever seen or she held resemblance to an adolescent in terms of size or any of that weird shit, no. 

It was instead the way in which her head bowed in just the perfect way so it indicated respect and submission; not so high that it would seem that she was trying to deny him his station but not so low that it became off-putting. It was an acknowledgement to his power in their dynamic; an agreement of a lifetime. 

The man could swear he was going crazy. 

There was simply no way he was going to make it through the night with his sanity intact. 

It was just the effect she had on him. 

If there was anyone to blame it was her. 

Because even though he wanted to hide this girl so safely in his arms for the rest of his days that not even a harsh breeze would be allowed to touch her, the erratic way in which his boiling blood sizzled its way through his veins, The Captain wanted nothing more than to just turn her around, press her breathtaking face into the mattress and take her over and over until she was swell with his litter. 

Or press his bigger body against hers and take her deep and raw until her mind gave up on consciousness  

Perhaps place her between his own legs and feel her mouth around him until his seed spilled from her nose. 

Maybe make her mount him and slap her ass that he just knew would be perfect over and over to keep her going even when she didn't want to. 

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing. 

And he was determined to try his hand at all of them, and more. 

His eyebrows furrowed just a little when she awkwardly pecked his lips for the fifth time in a straight row and refused to give him more, cringing away when he attempted to deepen the kiss. The girl that giggled and covered her mouth on which her red lipstick had already smudged was a dead leaf echo of the confident and liberal sheikha -prized daughter of the sheikh supreme- that critically watched the foreign Captain everytime he was around with her bright and vigilant brown eyes so full of scrutiny that it made him, a grown man, blush. It wasn't his fault, really. Her eyes had the most attractive gleam of intelligence to them and the black khol that lined them only accentuated their beauty more. 

She had always been so elegant Syverson knew he was a goner the first time his eyes had been granted the pleasure of looking at her. Sat aside her father basking in her confidence, silk scarf draped around her head and body in the most perfect way, a form he could only describe as agreeable always clad in decent clothes, fingers adorning rings with colorful stones and modesty dripping off of every single mannerism of hers. 

How could a man not look twice?

And then not consider looking away utterly blasphemous on account of being unappreciative of such godly beauty?

"I- I do not know how to…" Her accent turned his gears just right. "K- Kiss, Captain" oh. 

Of course. 

Blood rushed to his cock that hadn't throbbed like this in a long time. That was, if it ever had. 

And then his sweet, chaste wife just had to call him Captain.

Fuck. 

He was going to tear her apart. 

And she had no idea.

The obedient daughter, who was never afraid to voice her thoughts and outsmart every man who dared stand against her with inadequate knowledge of the debate at hand, had happily bowed down to her father's wish that she marry the charming and noble Captain -to them a warrior who was not afraid to fight for his country; a man truly admirable- after said Captain had asked for her hand in marriage when he had realized that that was the only way to have her. 

Mind, body, soul… heart. 

Sure, it had taken Syverson and his rather daft attempts at impressing her some quick-witted answers and astute responses by a rather critical her to realize it.

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered. 

"Well, ain't that just dandy?" Syverson realizes just how heavy his breathing really is when his words come out gravelly and almost forced. She is unable to hold his eyes for very long so she stares at his chest instead, a most remarkable coy smile across her lips. The fact that she looks every other man with a taught unaffected sternness but has blushed everytime their eyes have met after the wedding just drives him all the more insane. 

Her dark eyebrows furrow as she lightly tilts her head to the side. He has noticed that she has some trouble understanding his dialect. So he caresses her cheek again, this time in a reassuring manner;

"I know you'll figure it out soon. You're a clever lil' thing, ain'tcha?" She looks up just long enough to nod with a meeting of their eyes. 

"Yes, Captain" god, even her way of speaking has softened.

The knowledge that he was the only man in this whole wide world whom she treated like this made him want to worship her with his love and devotion in every way possible. 

Because The Captain was naturally a very possessive man who did not appreciate ran through goods.  

"Alright now, just trust your husband and sit back like a good lil' bride, alright?" It was taking him all of his focus to not just push her back and have his depraved ways with her all night long.

"Y- Yes, Captain." 

"Atta girl," before he leaned back in and brushed his lips against hers just long enough to whisper, "now hush and don'tcha try to keep them pretty lips shut on me" he felt her going breathless against him when his mouth fit against the slot of her parted one perfectly; as though it had been created just for him. 

She did her best to keep up with as much obedience as her modesty would allow her to muster but the sensation of his mouth against hers, the scratch of his coarse beard across her delicate skin, the wetness of his tongue that took its time swiping against her bottom lip and the way that he didn't have to break the kiss to know that she had extended her had in his direction to take a hold of him to deal with the intensity of it all, the sheer desperation with which he reached out his fingers and clutched hers in an affectionate way that also had a territorial tinge to it was all too much for her to handle.

An unfamiliar thrill that she had been a stranger to until this moment began to patter through her bloodstream. Her heart pounded, her sweat glands soaked, her face burnt and her stomach fluttered. 

"Captain" was all she was allowed to whisper in the two second interval the man allowed them to recover their breathing. 

"Well, I'll be damned, darlin'" Syverson husked through rushed kisses as he hurriedly helped her lay down with her attire still intact, both too desperate to strip her and wanting to take her as she was, for tonight she looked the most stunning he had ever seen her. "You're so dang pretty I can't even fathom stayin' off ya now that you're mine" a hush of cold breath rushed past her flush lips as her thick eyebrows drooped upwards in reaction to him dipping his face in the curve of her neck.

"I am all yours to do with whatever you please, my C- Captain" her soft hands flew to grab at his shirt as the foreign sensation of a man's body against her skin sent an electric bolt down her spine. 

His body was heavy above hers as he groaned at her response and grinded his bulge against her covered sex, peppering kisses all over her skin. "God damn, baby. Your mama sure raised you up right, didn't she?" A loud squeak resonated in the air when the new husband simply could not hold back his passion anymore and bit down on the inviting flesh of her shoulder, letting out a stomach churning moan at her taste and squeezing her sides as the smell of her fragrance oils hit his nose. 

"Fuck, baby" it took him all of his willpower and the promise that he could go back for more only easier to part from her. "I can't–" sitting up to kneel over her, Syverson pulled his shirt over his head before tossing it somewhere in the room. "I can't hold back no more" as he leaned back down and placed one hand beside her head to keep himself from suffocating her, the way she looked up at him with wonder, timidity, need, sent a pang of pain to his cock. "Talk to me, darlin'" he gathered her wrists in one hand before placing them above her head, now reaching for the clothed bump on her chest. "You feelin' anything?" A soundless breath left her and she shuddered in such a way that her boobs trembled feverishly. 

"S- Strange… a- and… oh my God!" She had to shut her eyes and turn her head to the side when he suddenly manhandled one of her breasts out of the deep neckline of her wedding night dress. Her hands rushed to cover her chest by instinct but her husband's authoritative swat was much quicker and stronger. 

Syverson chuckled at the defensive gasp she let out, a crazed darkness floating in his eyes as he pinnned her feverish hands out of his way, coarse palm now feeling up her other breast that was freed as he spoke. "Ain't no God 'round these parts tonight, baby. Just me…" His lips enveloped hers in a right and hungry kiss. "'N you" the way she nervously gulped when he pulled back to stare into her eyes only added to the fire in his body. "Say, baby" he trailed gentle kisses down her chin, along her throat and then down to the fluffy cushions of soft flesh dotted with flush, erect nipples in the middle. A surprised cry jutted out of her mouth and her fingernails tried to claw at his hand that confined them above her when he pressed one wet kiss on each nub. "Ain't this just somethin' else?" 

The girl had no idea what possessed her to say what she did, but her hips moved faster than her brain could catch on and her lips worked before reticence could hinder her communication. "I- It is, Captain. T- Thank you" of course she had felt arousal before. Of course she had been wet before. Some of those times she had a certain handsome American Captain to thank for, not that she would ever willingly admit it. But she had never known how to relieve herself of it other than a cold shower. 

Her mother had warned her that not every feeling that transpires in one in times of idleness should be chased and she had listened.

But this was not solitary boredom, this was not a devilish lure, her mother wasn't here and it was her wedding night with a man she was slowly becoming sure she would be able to call her dear husband one day. 

If her husband was kind enough to be considerate about what made her feel what she could only identify as exciting, she deemed it a stupidity to refuse the treatment. 

"Aw, baby" Syverson's hands only part from her breasts so his mouth can greedily latch onto them, his bearded lips pressing all over them before his hand nearly snatches her skirts out of his way since the layers seem to be never ending. "To think that I ain't even begun with ya and you're already thankin' me like a sweet little lady" now his mouth traveled to her stomach and the only word he had for its appearance was perfect. A shudder set in her shoulders when his beard scratched her navel before his teeth softly nibbled away on her skin. 

"W- Would you like me to get up and t- take my clothes off, dear?" God damn.

He really had hit the fucking jackpot. 

"Hold on now, darlin'" he husked as his fingers caressed her nubs, his hot mouth littering its kisses over her skin further down south. "I wanna take you like this first" the readied rise in the middle of her shoulder blades smoothed out and she settled back into the mattress again wordlessly. "Well now, are you gonna be good and keep them arms up high like a good lil' thing or am I gonna have to tie 'em up?" A drawn out moan sounded from deep within her throat when his chin deliberately brushed against her clothed sex, coarse fingers twirling her nipple between them.

Syverson felt an unconscious clench in the muscles of her thighs upon his words finally registering in her clouded mind. "N- No, I- I'll be good, husband. I promise." 

"Atta girl" he praised in a satisfied tone before letting go of her wrists. 

It was after that that his hands roamed free and wild all over her form. The Captain kissed, sucked, nibbled, pinched, groped, licked and bit all to his desire, the growing moans of his bride only encouraging him further. 

"God damn, if these ain't the sweetest damn legs I've ever seen" Syverson licked away the thread of spit that previously connected his mouth to her now bruised hiphone that he had successfully marked as his territory. The fact that no man had ever seen them and the plan that he made to never let anyone do so either was making his ears hot. His sides were becoming sore with need like he was the virgin. 

"And this– fuck, c'mere" he couldn't hold it back anymore. The Captain had always been an ass man and the fact that he was yet to see his wife's backside was making him mad now. Her yelp morphed into a confused giggle when he bundled her ankles in one of his rough hands, having already rid her of her panties, and easily raised both her legs up until her lower half dangling by his hold on her. "Hmmm, I just knew you had a perfect lil' rump stashed in there" his free hand felt her soft cheeks up before he traced his index finger down her crack, cursing at the way they clenched in defense. Then his depravity got the best of him and he wound his hand back and gave a handful of strong blows to her poor behind that started blushing in an instant. 

"Oh– ouch!" Her next nervous giggle made him raise an eyebrow as he divided an ankle between each hand and parted her legs to look down at her. 

"Think this is funny, do you?" The girl quickly stopped herself nervously. "You know who that's for?" He didn't even mind the giggles, if anything they were rather endearing to him. But the timidity in her eyes was way too sweet for him to pass up. She shook her head no. "Bad little girls who make fun of their fellas, that's who." It was the cock hardening way in which her bottom lip wobbled sensitively that dried his throat. 

A young woman once so strong, all commanding and authorative now exposed in such a submissive manner and completely at his mercy. 

"S- Sorry, dear" he hummed, reaching for the mound between her legs to roughly feel her pussy up in blunt gropes. 

"You can consider those as payback for all them times you thought you could get slick with me in front of my boys just 'cause you were the Sheikh's daughter" her eyes widened and she blushed harder than before. 

"I- I–"

"Yes, you" though Syverson's words were crisp, his kiss on her nether lips was tender and perhaps that was the sole reason why she didn't tear up from being reprimanded when she was so vulnerable and hypersensitive like this. "Thought I'd just forget all that brattin' of yours?" 

She had to hurriedly sit up for that one and reach for his hands affectionately. "Oh, no" the pure care in her eyes made his melting heart feel as though it had risen into the sky. "It was only that you were not my husband back then, dear," she tried to make him understand, aware that there were cultural differences that needed overcoming, "mother said good girls owe it to their husbands to treat every other man with a serious attitude and indifference!" 

She was breaking his fucking heart. 

It was officially official. 

Abel Ford Syverson was in love. 

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love. 

With a woman who was not only intelligent and gorgeous way past his league but one that respected herself with an unwavering devotion towards her spouse. 

"Well, I'll be damned!" He exclaimed with faux surprise that she did not catch up on, much to his expectation. "So that's what it was all about?" Of course he knew. 

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right. 

She apologetically nodded with sincerity. "I swear, my heart." The translation of the endearment caused for his blood to pump through his ears only harder. 

Syverson gave her a small smile before sighing a little. "Well, you see, darlin', it did still hurt my feelings a tad" her eyebrows furrowed in regret so he added just to rub it in that much more; "got me a bit of pride to keep up, y'know?" 

Now she pouted. "I am sorry, love…" Before a bulb went off in her head and she jumped a little to express her excitement, the action causing her naked boobs to jiggle. "Is there a way I can make it up to you?" There. 

"Why, of course!" Fuck, he sounded more eager than a middle schooler. "You gonna have to show that you can make a good little wife" her cheeks flushed as she bit her bottom lip in embarrassment. He continued, aware she was as clueless as a virgin.

Because she was one. 

Syverson loved the thought.

He wished there was a way to preserve it -her- all as it was.  

"Anything you want, my dear" she replied sincerely as she earnestly pressed his hand that she held to her chest. 

The man swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat as his eyes flickered down to where their fingers were intertwined; the valley of her perfect breasts. 

"Good girl" his voice came out much deeper than usual. "Go on 'n' take it out, then" the bride's eyebrows raised to express her confusion as she tilted her head to the side. 

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

Syverson was getting impatient. "That means my pants, darlin'." He chuckled to lighten the effect of the edge that his tone had held. "I mean, can't exactly make love to ya with 'em on, now can I?" Something pulled taught in her chest and she went to avoid his eyes out of embarrassment. 

"Oh… yes" she was breathless as she reached for his fly, face angled downwards. 

"Yeah…?" He drew it out on purpose teasingly, dipping his own head earthwards to try and meet her gaze cockily. "Yeah, yeah?" The man kept going unrelentlessly until she had no choice but to respond. 

"Y- Yes…" Her nervous fingers slipped over the button of his pants many times but she managed to free him at last. 

"Go on ahead now, sugar" he coaxed sweetly, tone in stark contrast to his intentions. "Take it out and let them pretty lil' hands get a feel" her legs instinctively tried to close due to the shame she felt but her husband's huge body hindered her attempt to somehow cover herself. "Well?"

Her eyes darted up to him from where her fingers gingerly rested against the waistband of his boxers and Syverson suspected that she was about to decline because of the way her mouth moved to let out some phantom words. But when he raised a questioning eyebrow in response, she seemed as though it had reminded her of her place against him and she quickly dipped her digits inside the undergarment to reach for his thumping cock. 

The first feel of her fingertips connecting with his hard skin was… indescribable. It was as though time ceased, stilling everything else with it and he was enveloped into a cocoon of pure sensation. She was everywhere and inside. Her heat filled him to the brim. Each brush of her delicate skin against his rougher one felt like the stroke of the flesh of an outworldly nymph. Shivers of ecstacy cascaded down his lower back and he was floating already. 

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin at the unfamiliar feeling, the moan that he let out along a whispered praise pulling her back in the moment and away from her recoil. The bride's mind reminded her of her duty to her husband and she used her other hand to hold his clothes away so she could uncover his impaler. 

"Just like that, darlin'. Just like that" one of his hands went to tangle in her hair. "Go on and rub it for me, baby. You're doin' real good" his free hand reached for her own sex that had secreted its natural moisture in reaction to the sensations she was being subjected to. He groaned at the feeling of her warm pussy and squished his finger through her plump nether lips. "Tell me what you see" her own body was getting feverish by the second, hips and cunt trying to shrink in on themselves due to how violating his sense tingling touch was.

"I- It's…" She raked her mind for an appropriate answer. But it was all too much for her to handle; the pressure to impress her new husband, touching him the way he wanted properly, obeying him, submitting to his handling and then dealing with his intense gaze. "V- Very pretty, husband. Thank you" so she played it the safest she knew. 

And the girl could swear she felt him twitch in her palm at that, a pang of pain rising in her wrist as she awkwardly pumped him in a vertical manner. 

"Pretty, huh?" A cunning grin spread across his handsome features as he slipped one finger deep within her folds and being the retired playboy that he was, the Captain easily found her pure entrance. "'N' what about the size?" He could not help but moan at the feeling of her balmy walls clinging to his finger. "Ever seen anythin' like it?" Her thighs quivered as his thumb glided over her folds. 

"N- No, husband" she answered timidly, afraid to bruise his pride with an inappropriate or unsatisfactory answer that may pose a threat to her chasteness.

"That's right" now he began to speed up his intrusion of her insides. "'Cause you're all mine, ain'tcha?"  She quickly nodded, letting out a whine as her eyebrows furrowed at the ache his twisting of one of her nipples caused. "Now tell me," he leaned forward to reach for one of her nubs with his teeth, "did ya ever think you'd land yourself a fella with a cock this big?" He spoke through a mouthful before sinking down on her tender boobs, the tips of his sharp canines digging into the soft cushions of her flesh. 

"N- No…" The girl was gasping as she struggled to keep up with his leaking and twitching cock. "T- Thank you, dear!" She added for good measure despite how overwhelmed she was becoming. 

"Tell me, baby" the man loved how his naive wife's features scrunched in discomfort but she still sped up her fist that was wrapped around his cock because he prompted her to, hoisting himself further up next to capture her lips against his. "Do you think yourself lucky that you get to have this here cock all to yourself for the rest of your days?" He could not help but fuck into her hand at the sight of the spit string dangling by a corner of her bottom lip as it connected to the wad of spit that she had just released on his cock after being ordered to do so. He felt her cringe at the feeling of her fingers touching her own saliva as she spread it over his cock. But her resolve to obey him did not falter even once regardless of how shy or uneasy she felt.

And that was how Syverson knew he had found himself his perfect little homemaker.

"I- I do, husband" her voice nearly broke. "Thank you so much" the fact that all of this was visibly strange and even uncomfortable to her because she was not familiar with any of this… 

The Captain could swear that alone was enough to finish him off.

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled. 

Nobody's leftovers; whole in every sense for the beast to take. 

What could he say? Colonel Syverson's prized son always won, no matter what. 

There was a brighter way of looking at his promiscuous dating history that was in stark contrast to his wife's nonexistent one; it could easily be considered as his physical sacrifice in order to realize and reach his full potential as a man for his future lady's well being as well as pleasure. 

A lady that he had found at last. 

"Say it" his command was heavy and the rough skin of his finger was like gravel against the buttery tissue of her slick walls. "Say that you're the luckiest lil' bride for landin' yourself the best damn dick you could have ever hoped for" she began to subconsciously move her thumb out of sync with the rest of her digits to swipe it over his tip each time her hand rose to his apex and he couldn't believe just how close he was already. 

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

But then again it was impossible for the beast to resist his tempting lamb for very long, wasn't it?

"I- I am the luckiest…" She licked her parched lips needily. "L- Little bride for l- landing myself the best d- dick…" Embarrassment burnt her cheeks but pleasing him was more important a priority to her. "T- That I could've ever hoped for…"

He deeply moaned in satisfaction. "My good girl" a quick peck was given to the tip of her nose. "Now tell me, baby. How ya feelin'?" As if on cue, she clenched around his finger with a moan.  

Fuck, Syverson had never really preferred a clueless woman until now.

He could literally demand whatever he wanted from her and she would believe him out of her naivety. 

His perfect pretzel Princess that he could twist into whatever shape that he pleased. 

Or make her do as he desired, for that matter. 

With no one, not even his wife herself, to question him or his ways.

He loved the thought. 

"... S- Strange… P- Pain… but– hnnn!" Her back arched as she suddenly writhed, nearly going white at the feeling of getting her special spot getting tickled for the first time. It was an ability her husband took a lot of pride in; the  renown that he had held in college for being able to find gspots with his fingers alone. 

"Feels real good too, don't it?" The Captain snickered heavily as he began to rock his hips into her hand, feeling himself nearing the brink. 

"Mmh!" She did her best to respond despite the sensory overload, groaning softly when he forces her band of muscles to expand further by adding another finger to her pussy and repeatedly jabbing her sensitive nerves with their blunt tips, the sound of his skin fucking in and out of her liquids getting louder by the minute. "W- Weird… but…" A drop of sweat trickled down the side of her face as she gasped, eyes widening when her spine jolted at a particular wave of pleasure. "M- More, please." 

In the blink of an eye, Syverson had pushed her on her back before crawling up her body like a predator. Before her body could process his fingers leaving her into an orgasm denial, his eager cock was pushing into her. The pained moan that escaped her as her body twisted under his was muffled by his mouth clamping over hers. The Captain grunted as his cock struggled to push its way inside her virgin entrance despite the preparation that he had done. The girl's bottom lip pulled away from the rest of her mouth due to the way he bit down on it to withstand the overwhelming pleasure that sparked everywhere within him.  

"Your wish is my command, my darlin' sheikha." 

Syverson found himself praying for the first time to any god, deity or entity that may be listening; to freeze time right here in this very moment and never set it free again.

For he could stay like this for eternities and beyond; buried inside his dear wife and protectively enveloped in her loving arms that had never held another like she did him and never would whilst she moaned below him in a pained ecstasy, clenching and nearly knocking out as she experienced her first ever orgasm.

.

Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3

[butlervibesonly]

𝐾𝑒𝑦𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 | Austin Butler

• Summary : Austin and reader move into their very first house together and they can't get enough of thinking about their future in it, and making it feel like home!

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female reader

• Warnings: idk maybe fluff, prob some grammar mistakes

The key turns in the lock with a satisfying click, and the door swings open. Rays of golden light are spilled on the floor, and the house feels empty yet so full.

You step inside first, fingers trembling a bit as you hold the key tightly in your hand. Austin follows behind you, carrying an armful of moving boxes with a grin so wide.

This is your very first house with Austin, and it feels like a dream come true to live this moment . “Well,” Austin says, looking around at the empty space, “what do you think? It’s all ours... Only ours.”

You turn to him face him, your eyes so soft, filled with excitement. “It feels… big. And kind of empty, I would say.”

“Give it a week,” he laughs, setting the boxes down. “You’ll fill it with your candles, your books… your vibe.” He pulls you closer to him, making you laugh.

“Ahem... You meant our vibe,” you correct Austin, kissing him. As you walk to the middle of the room you start imagining how this house will look when it's fully furnished and decorated. “This is going to be our home, Aus. The first one we’ve ever had that’s really ours.”

The next few days are filled with furniture deliveries, endless trips to the store, and assembling more and more furniture than you ever thought is possible. This afternoon, you are trying to piece together a chair. Austin sits cross-legged on the floor, reading the instructions upside down.

“This thing is trying to frickin' destroy us.” you mutter, tightening a bolt that refused to stay in place. “It’ll take more than this chair to break us,” Austin teases. But when it finally clicks together, he raises both hands triumphantly. “Hallelujah! First chair in the first house. It’s practically an artifact–"

You giggle and stand up, gesturing dramatically to the half-furnished living room. “Our palace grows, chair by chair. Soon, we’ll even have a whole couch, hah.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Austin jokes, pulling you into a hug.

The first night you officially move in, Austin and you sprawl a mattress on the floor, being surrounded by half-unpacked boxes, as the bed hads’t arrived yet. He eventually sets up a TV in front of the mattress, and both of you lay down in soon-to-be your bedroom.

“I could get used to this,” Austin says, leaning back against the pillows and tilting his head toward you. You grin, nudging his foot. “This whole laying-on-the-floor thing?”

“No,” he replies, his voice warm. Austin turns to face you, pressing a quick but soft kiss on your lips. “You. Us. This whole house.” He pauses, his gaze shifting to the empty wall across from you.

“Can you picture it?" he asks, reaching out his hand to hold yours. "A little gallery wall over there. Maybe a tiny Christmas tree in the corner of the living room when the holidays come. You baking cookies and I will help you,"

"Help me by eating them before they even get cool down?" you interrupt him. "Sure. With you, love, I'll do anything you would wish." he pulls you closer to his chest, kissing you passionately.

You, of course, lean more closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “I can picture it all. Us making it into our future .”

He kisses the top of your head and adds, “I can also picture the room, that is now full of cardboard boxes, being a kids room one day.”

“Austin Robert Butler, we just moved in and you're thinking about this?” you cup his cheeks, making him chuckle. "So what? Isn't that also a part of our future?" he furrows his eyebrows, making a funny face.

"It is, but we need to make this house feel like a home first."

"Home is wherever you are with me, sweetheart," you absolutely melt into Austin's words. All of this feels like one big dream that tou always dreamed of.

The house still smells faintly of fresh paint and the candles you both picked up earlier, but it truly feels like home already. Especially with Austin by your side.

As the two of you drift into silence, you enjoy laying in Austin's arms, knowing that your future is day by day slowly building here. This wasn’t just a house—it was the beginning of a life you and Austin are building together. And you couldn’t wait to see what that life would look like.

[giddyfatherchris]

At your mercy

pairing. han jisung x afab!reader

type. requested

warnings. 18+ minors and ageless blogs DNI. suggestive, we get to see more of dom han👀, curse words

words. ~2k

a/n. thank you to my angel @solisyeah for this request i hope you’ll like it!! also, dom han lives rent free in my head:) and this fic is a continuation of han’s part in this text fic we made in collab

a/n2. the first time i wrote this it was kinda really frickin toxic and I'm sorry but I just couldn't. being in a dom relationship does NOT EQUAL that toxic behaviors are okay. boundaries are important people! and what can I say I'm a whore for ppl who respect them:) hope you enjoy xxx

You're so flushed when you head out of the lunch room that you want to crawl under the earth's crust, as opposed to your boyfriend walking out like he owns the world. He's cocky and particularly satisfied when he notices Seungmin trying to avoid at all cost to lock eyes with you or him. You try to get rid of the aura of sex surrounding you and decide to sit near Felix while Hannie gets back to the recording booth as if nothing happened. He gives you a cocky wink, but you quickly advert your eyes, feeling your cheeks heat up with fire once more. You're determined to move on, so you focus on your friend to notice Felix really looks down in the dumps. "Hey, you okay?" you ask while nudging his shoulder. 

The blonde boy lets out a heavy sigh, "Not really. Management has been really tough on us these past few weeks. Our schedules keep multiplying, I'm tired and miss my family. I feel like I can't breathe." His eyes fill with tears, breaking your heart in two. Even if Felix is known for being easily moved, he isn't the type to start crying like this in the middle of a room. You gently stroke your hand down his back to comfort him. "Can I do anything to help? I'm so sorry you're going through this. You should have told me earlier instead of enduring this all alone." 

He quickly wipes his tears away before anyone notices and whispers. "Can I have a hug?"

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer to your body. You won't pull away from this hug before he does. From the way he clings to you, you know he needs this. Suddenly, he pulls you on his lap to lay his head better in the crook of your neck. You don't mind the physical touch, Felix and the other boys had always been a touchy bunch, so you kept stroking his soft hair, shushing sweet nothings to console him. 

What you don't notice is your boyfriend's piercing death stare from across the recording booth as he stares at the way his member's head is lying on your skin, how tightly you hold him and how you are sitting on his goddamn lap. Felix and you are in a bubble of your own, lost in your little world when you hear a familiar ping from your phone. Without letting go, you reach out for your device, your eyes turning round as saucers as you notice the texts coming from your boyfriend. They keep popping up on the screen in a raging litany. They come so fast that you barely have the time to read them all.

One second you're hugging your friend the next a firm grip is roughly pulling you off his lap. You lift surprised eyes to see a fuming Jisung. His gaze is set on his junior with an aggressive spark. Everyone stares in silence at the scene, shocked to see such a demeanor coming from one of the most peaceful members.

"It's time for Y/n to go. They have things to do." 

You can barely mutter a confused 'what?' when he grabs your things, shoves them in your hands, gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, and pushes you out of the room. The door behind you closes in a slam, leaving you alone, feeling on your back the baffled gaze of the other boys through the glass.

"Ji, what the" you barely hear Bang Chan start, but he's quickly shut down by the boy's poisonous tone. You don't know what he said, but from the way Chan's mouth is hanging out open, it was not good. You watch your boyfriend head to the booth, put back on his headphones, and resume his verse like nothing happened for the second time today. 

You head home completely enraged with his behavior. You never minded his dominant side. In fact, you loved it, but today was too much. The first thing with Seungmin was hot, even if it had raised warning signs in your brain. The way he kept it going with Felix was something else. He crossed a limit you couldn't tolerate.

When he gets home hours later, he's back to being his cute usual self. He babbles about his day while you stare silently at him from your seat at the table.

After a while, he notices you haven't said a word since he got home. He finally turns to you with questions in his big eyes. "Is everything okay, sweetheart?"

You stare back with flames in yours. You're basically breathing fire. "I don't know Ji. Are you okay? I don't know what was up with you today, but I don't want you to do something like that ever again. There's a difference between being dominant and being an asshole. Felix is one of my best friends and one of yours too. He really wasn't feeling well. You know I would never ever leave or cheat on you. He just needed comfort. I will not allow you to throw me around like a rag doll and act like that towards me or your friends."

His soft expression vanishes with your words. Suddenly, he looks like he's burning from the inside too. "Their hands were all over you today." 

"Their?" you furrow your brows in question. "What are you even talking about?"

"First, Seungmin pushes you, bruises you, and then keeps touching you while he apologizes. Then Felix whines and brings you on his lap. I don't get why they think it's okay for them to touch you like that." His hands tighten in fists while you stare at him in disbelief.

"What happened with Seungmin was an accident, and he was just APOLOGIZING! Felix was sad and needed a hug. We've always been like this. I don't know what's your problem, but you better figure it out."

His gaze zeroes on you, and he's fuming at this point. "My problem is that you are mine. No one else gets to touch you like that. Only I get to leave marks on your body. Only I get to have you writhing on my lap. Only me. I don't get why you don't understand that. I don't get why you're being such a brat right now."

"That's not what this is about. You being dominant and possessive in our private life is something. Having you push me out of a room and throw fits because our friends touched me in a platonic way is another. I'm not some object you can control to your will. If I decide to hug my friend for 30 fucking minutes because he needs it, it's no one else's business. Especially not you. I've had my fair share of experiences with toxic pricks. I need to make sure this is not happening again." 

Pleasure and toxic conduct are two different things. You won't let him get away with this behavior. Even if the tension in the room, the look he keeps giving you, and the way his eyes burn make you want to let him do anything he wants with you, you won't avert your gaze. You have a point to make, and won't shy away from it. 

You start to get nervous when he stays silent, but the way the fire in his eyes slightly dims makes you breathe a little easier. He walks up to you, and you keep your chin up, not showing one inch of weakness. He stops unbearably close, he's not touching you but every inch of your skin feels on fire by his simple proximity. "Listen," he starts in an ushed voice. "I'm sorry about today. I didn't want to make you feel like I was trying to control you. I respect you, and I would never want to make you feel like that. I want you to know I also apologized to Felix and Chan for my attitude. I know it wasn't okay. You just have this way of making me go absolutely berserk." You let go of a breath you didn't know you were holding, relief flooding your blood. "I think I got a little too carried away. I love feeling like you are mine and only mine. And after our little... adventure in the lunchroom, I think my brain was a little fogged up." Your cheeks flush at the mention of what you did. Phantom sensations of his fingers inside of you make shivers run down your spine. "Still, it wasn't okay for me to act the way I did. I truly apologize." His eyes connect with yours, and you only see soft and caring love in his dark orbs, even a hint of shame for the behavior he displayed. 

You feel your fears vanish into nothingness, "I appreciate your apologies, and I'm glad you apologized to the boys. They didn't deserve this. I love what we have going together, but I needed to make clear that I won't tolerate being used or treated like an object." He shakes his head with a nod. You can see he is taking everything you're telling him very seriously. "And I want you to know that I agree. Nobody else should touch me the way you did in that lunchroom earlier," you add with a tempting smile. "I am yours and only yours. Heart, body, mind, and soul." Your breath comes out in small puffs as you look at his plush lips.

"You are?" His own gaze keeps traveling from your eyes to your lips with a dizzying hunger. 

"I am completely at your mercy."

Your eyes lock one last time before he tilts the chair up and it hits the wall with a small thud. His hands are caging you while his lips smash against yours. The kiss he gives you makes your head spin and your pulse accelerate. The way his tongue slips against your own makes you moan in seconds. As suddenly as it started, the kiss ended. You open hazy eyes, a question on your lips, but one of his hands softly wraps around your throat while his feverish gaze burns through your skull. 

"You're my little plaything, aren't you? Just one kiss and you're already panting so much sugar." His eyes are basically undressing you. You feel his hand slip up your thigh to the center of your desire. You're whimpering before his fingers even reach your clothed core. He presses three digits on it once, making you melt on the chair under you. You're waiting for more, you need more but he's not making any further motion. He's looking at you like a predator ready to pounce on his prey and you feel your insides burn like molten fire. You know what he's waiting for. You know what you both need to hear to break past this tension point. 

You lean so close to him you feel his breath fan over your lips, and you're only staring at them when you utter your next words. "I'm a little plaything who needs to be reminded who they belong to."

It's all your boyfriend needs to dive back like a tidal wave, unleashing all the tension accumulated. In a second, your clothes are torn off your body. Soon, your legs are up in the air, your hands gripping his soft curls, and all you can feel is his hot mouth attached to your core as he feeds on you like a starved man.

[em1i2a3]

Cradle

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Mom(Post-Partum)!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Starts off on a bit of a scary note, Fluff, lot’s of it, reader went through a C-Section, and there is a reference to that, there is accidental swearing, and once again Bucky is just a super soft sweet boi being his sweet boi self…But all in all, very fluffy, very cute, just pure vibes.

Authors Note: This is connected to ‘Forwards Beckon Rebound,’ it’s a little bit of a continuation of sorts but it’s more of a blurb, there’s not a lot connected, this could be read as a standalone too though, I think. Also, Adrianne Lenker has really been a mood for me lately, and thank god she has so many beautiful songs because this one was so frickin fitting.

Word Count: 3,443

Taglist: @sleepysongbirdsings (y’all I’m so mentally old I’m slowly getting used to what to do for these posts lol, so if anyone wants to be part of my Taglist I mean…Give me a shout :))

The last thing you remembered before going under was Bucky’s voice. His large hands framing your face, his thumbs running along the bags under your eyes.

”I promise I’ll be here when you wake up…” His voice was cracking, fear breaking through his words. He was terrified, you could see it in the way his dark blue irises scanned over your face, taking every detail in as if this could be the last time he saw you. Everything happened so quickly that neither of you had time to process anything. One moment you were in the hospital bed getting checked, the next they were preparing you for an emergency C-Section. You were panicking, scared for the baby, scared for yourself even.

You reached up and squeezed his fingers tight–a desperate goodbye you didn’t want to be saying–nodding through the tears that streamed down your face, then the cool oxygen mask slid over your mouth and nose, and you were taken under a sea of black.

————-

Coming back to consciousness felt like being dragged through wet cement. Your limbs were heavy and numb, as if they were being pinned down by invisible weights. Your throat was burning and your mouth was dry, you assumed it was probably from the tube they had put down your throat during the surgery to make sure your breathing was controlled, you heard them mention it in the chaos of them preparing you for the C-Section…At least you thought you did.

Thankfully there was no immediate pain, just a deep, tight ache that buzzed in your lower abdomen reminding you of what just occurred two and a half hours ago.

You felt like you were floating, half-aware, but half-asleep, until the sound of voices pulled you closer to the surface.

“You’re doing perfect hun,” A soft, coaxing voice said, you assumed it was a nurse. Her tone was patient, and warm, almost motherly even.

”I’m…I just haven’t done this before…I don’t think I’m doing this right.” Another voice cracked out, low and thick with nerves. It was Bucky. Your Bucky…Your rock...You could feel your chest twist at the sound of him so worried, but there was such relief when you heard that voice.

“You’ve been doing great. She’s calm, she’s breathing steady. Been asleep for the past hour after that big feed. You’re keeping her warm and giving her something steady to nap on, I’d say you’re a pro.” You could feel your body immediately tense at the word she. A baby girl. You had fought to keep the gender a secret from yourself, and now knowing gave you some sort of second wind in a way, a push to try and keep yourself over the edge so you could stay at least semi-conscious.

There was a soft rustle of fabric, a faint creak of a chair, and the sound of shifting. You forced your eyes open, just the tiniest bit, fighting against the weight that was trying to pull them closed again.

The first thing you saw was him.

Bucky was sitting stiffly in the reclining hospital chair, his broad shoulders hunched slightly forward, like he was attempting to curl himself around the tiny bundle in his arms, trying to make himself seem small in a way, which was nearly impossible given the sheer size of him. His hair was pulled back in a bun, and he was shirtless, with a soft pink blanket covering a portion of his chest and midsection, containing as much warmth as possible. His vibranium hand hovered awkwardly over the fabric, resting there for support, but not fully touching, letting his other arm do all the heavy lifting. You could see the way it was wrapped around her, his enormous hand cupping nearly her whole back with the most delicate kind of softness.

Your vision was still swimming, but you could make out the faint shape of a tiny hand–impossibly small–splayed out over the center of Bucky’s broad chest. Her little fingers twitched now and then, though there were no shifts or squeals, not yet at least.

The entire sight was almost too much to take in.

You could see how tense Bucky was even from across the room, his jaw tight, his brows drawn together. It was easy to tell he was nervous and worried that he might accidentally do something wrong, and every muscle in his body showed that through the way they locked and tensed into place so that he could hold himself perfectly still.

”I-I definitely don’t feel like a pro,” Bucky muttered, “I’m scared I’m gonna hold her too tight…She’s so small.” The nurse chuckled softly, adjusting the blanket a bit higher over the baby’s back with a practiced hand, moving carefully, and reading the tension that was running all over his face. She was treating him with the same tenderness she might offer a brand-new parent, even though she knew the situation.

“She’s not little. Nine pounds, two ounces is a chunky little peanut.” The nurse teased gently, patting Bucky’s vibranium arm reassuringly, “You’re just a big ol’ mountain of a man, and you make everything look tiny.” Bucky gave a small, uncertain laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes, even though it did ease him a bit. He continued to cradle the bundle against him, dragging his thumb along her warm skin, a small smile coming up on his lips as he looked down at a carbon copy of you, just in tinier form.

His head dipped slightly, his nose brushing against the crown of the baby’s fuzzy head, breathing in without even realizing he was doing it. His eyes fluttered closed, and for a second he looked younger and softer than you’d ever seen him before.

“Is it weird if I say she smells like spun sugar…Like Coney Island cotton candy…That real sweet, sticky kind of smell.” Bucky asked quietly, his voice rough with nerves and awe as he cradled the bundle tighter to him. The nurse let out a soft, affectionate laugh.

”Not weird at all,” She soothed, “Every baby’s got their own smell, it’s kind of like a new car smell…But for tiny humans, and you’re certainly not the first tough guy to melt over it, either.” You could see Bucky’s cheeks turn a faint red through the blurriness in your vision. You swallowed against the dry scrape in your throat, heart aching as you opened your mouth to form a word.

”Bucky…” It was barely a sound, just a breath in the air, but he had heard it. His head immediately snapped up, his wide blue eyes locking onto you from across the room, a wave of relief washing over him. His mouth parted, but no sound came out, and he looked wrecked. It was like he had heard the most important voice of his life. The nurse nudged him slightly.

“C’mon, big guy, let’s bring her to mama hm?” Bucky blinked up at her like he’d forgotten he could move, like the only thing that was keeping him focused was you and the tiny heartbeat that was pressed against his chest. Slowly, he shifted to his feet, the nurse helping guide him as he adjusted his hold on the baby with exaggerated care. You could see the way he kept his vibranium arm hovering uselessly by his side as he stepped towards you, and you could feel tears filling your eyes at the gentleness of it all.

You tried to lift your arms, desperate to reach for the both of them, but they barely twitched against the sheets. A helpless whimper tore itself from your throat.

”My arms are still numb.” You croaked, feeling the tingling heaviness that plagued your nerves. Immediately the nurse was beside you, smoothing a hand over your shoulder.

”That’s alright sweetheart, we can still get her tucked up against you, Bucky over here can climb in beside you and secure her on your chest for extra safety.” Bucky stood frozen for a second, looking down at the tiny bundle, then at you.

“I would like that.” You replied quickly. The nurse smiled at your response and held her hands out to Bucky motioning for him to hand over the bundle so he could slip onto the mattress, and fill the space beside you. The hand off was gentle, and you could see the look on his face when the soft warmth of the baby’s skin left him, like he was holding onto the fleeting moment. He kicked his shoes off and brought down the railing beside you, carefully sliding underneath the covers, the mattress shifting beneath the new weight he introduced to it. You knew it would be a tight fit, but you wanted him there with you, and no matter the close proximity, you just craved his steady presence, and he gave you that with no questions.

He slid his vibranium arm around your shoulders, curling it carefully around you, bringing you closer to him with such a protective instinct that you could feel your heart beating out of your chest, leaning into him, absorbing the warmth that radiated off his skin.

”Alright, now you’re gonna help me a little bit and just untie the top of her gown so we can get the little one tucked in.” Bucky nodded once, like he was taking orders on a mission. He reached up to the shoulders of your gown, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes, before gently pulling on the ties, loosening them slowly just enough to reveal the top of your chest. The cool air ghosted across your skin for just a fraction of a second, then the nurse carefully placed the tiny, perfect weight of your daughter onto your body.

The moment her skin touched yours, it was as if the whole world cracked open. The heat of her, the fragile rise and fall of her chest against yours, the indescribable softness of her cheek pressing into the curve of your breastbone, the way she nuzzled her little nose into you with her fists curling up tight against your body–it was overwhelming, but worth every second. You could feel the coolness of Bucky’s vibranium hand run over your bicep, soothing you the only way he could in those moments as he looked down at you, watching tears flowing down your cheeks. You were so relieved everything was okay, and now that your eyes were on her, the instinct of wanting to be closer pulled at every fiber of your being. Bucky brought his arm over her back so he could hold her closer against your chest, keeping her nuzzled on your skin so you could take in every moment, even though you couldn’t cradle her on your own yet.

“That’s perfect sweetheart,” The nurse said quietly, tucking the soft pink blanket loosely around all three of you, securing the warmth once more without actively separating everyone, “I’m going to step out and give you all some privacy, if you need anything the call button’s right on the bed rail.” The both of you nodded, but you weren’t even sure you heard her properly because you were so enamoured by the little bundle that was frowning against you.

The door clicked softly behind the nurse as she stepped out of the room, leaving the three of you wrapped in a bubble of silence. Neither of you moved at first. There was too much floating in the air around you–gratitude, wonder, a love so thick it was hard to breathe through. The only sound that could truly be heard was the tiny, steady coos of the newborn sleeping against your chest.

Slowly, Bucky shifted closer to you, and without a word he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. It was feather-light, the kind of kiss that would’ve broken you in any other situation apart from this. When he pulled back, his lips ghosted another peck against your hairline.

”You are…Incredible.” He whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of everything he was holding in, “The strongest person I’ve ever met.” He added, another kiss landing right on your temple.

“I’m so proud of you Y/N…” You closed your eyes at his words, a fresh wave of tears burning behind the lids, as you leaned down to press your cheek against the tiny crown of soft fuzz that was your daughter’s head, breathing in to calm your heart from seizing up from the overwhelming sensation of love that coated it. You let the scent of her settle in your lungs, and it hit you that it was exactly how Bucky described it. Sweet and warm, soft and sticky like spun sugar on a summer day. You let out a little, tearful laugh against her head.

”You really are right…She does smell like cotton candy,” Bucky let out a low, broken chuckle, tightening his arm around you, his hand stilling against your bicep, shifting so he could get even closer to you.

“I thought I was hallucinating, so I’m glad you confirmed that. I assumed the nurse was just trying to ease my worries when she said it was normal.” You let out a quiet giggle, looking up at him.

”I think it was for the best. You looked so nervous…Like a gentle giant.” He blushed at the way you said it, realizing that you had been watching and listening to his interaction with the nurse for longer than he thought.

“Yeah well…I was scared,” Bucky replied sheepishly, his eyes flickering from you, down to the tiny sleeping bundle against your chest, “She’s a carbon copy of you…I didn’t want to accidentally do something wrong.” You smiled through the burning in your throat, bringing yourself even closer to him, nuzzling into the steady shelter of his body.

”You did amazing, Bucky…” You whispered. He let out a shaky exhale, as if he’d been holding his breath for hours, his forehead tipping down to bump yours. You know how much he needed to hear that, and how much it soothed the nerves that were ripping him apart from the inside. The baby cooed gently, shifting a bit against you, her tiny fist moving along your chest, like she was trying to get closer.

The both of you watched her, your chests moving in sync, taking in deep breaths, and after a while, he broke the silence.

”So…” He said softly, his thumb stroking absently along your forearm, “Have you thought about what you’re going to name her?” You could feel a smile tugging up on your lips at the question.

”I have,” You responded gently, shifting slightly so you could see his face better. He pulled back a little as well, giving you his full, undivided attention, his eyes focused on yours, scanning over your face in anticipation.

”I’ve actually known for months,” You admitted, watching as Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed. You usually told him everything, but this was a secret you kept safe until today, not wanting to be too reliant on getting a specific gender, because truly it didn’t matter, all you wanted was a healthy baby. He tried to hold himself back from looking too desperate for your answer, but you saw through it.

“I want her to have the name of the person who raised my second favourite human being in the world,” You said quietly, your voice trembling with such tenderness it almost felt like you were shaking against him. You could see the cogs turning in his head, his brows pulling together even tighter like he was trying to figure out what you meant by that. You loved seeing the confusion in his eyes in that moment, and it made you smile through the tears that began to build up in your eyes.

”Winnifred,” You whispered, “I’m naming her Winnifred.” You could feel the air get sucked out of the room, watching Bucky’s jaw go slack, blinking hard, once, then twice, like he didn’t trust himself to believe what he just heard. His throat bobbed in a rough swallow, as he took in a small breath.

”My ma…” He rasped, his voice breaking into pieces, his eyes glistening over with unshed tears as he stared at you like he was witnessing a miracle “You…You’re naming her after my ma?” You nodded, smiling through your own tears. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, like he was trying to ground himself, his forehead lowering until it rested lightly against yours, his breath shuddering out over your cheeks.

“You deserve everything good in this world, Bucky…And she would be so proud of you…I want to honour that.” You could feel him shake slightly, as he sniffled, pulling back to look at you again. The sheer sight of him wrecked you, his blue eyes swimming with tears that clung thickly to his lashes. You wished in those moments you could reach up to hold his face between your hands, but they were still tingling.

”You’re…You’re my sun, Y/N…” He whispered, his vibranium hand slipping from your bicep to cradle the side of your face with aching tenderness, “You’re the center of everything for me…I choose to be in your orbit every second of every day…And I don’t want to do anything else.” You could feel yourself choke up a little bit, as Bucky carefully leaned forward, kissing your cheeks gently, soft and slow, like he was memorizing you.

“Because I love you…So fucking much.” His breath ran over your skin as he said the words so lightly you could barely hear them over your pulse pounding in your ears. His confession hung between the both of you, filling the space and sinking into your body like sunlight after a long, brutal winter. You closed your eyes at his thumb dragging along your cheek, your breath trembling as you pushed yourself to speak.

”I love you too, Bucky…I always have.” There was a moment of silence, and you opened your eyes to look at him, seeing a small smile on his lips. It was such a relief to finally say it aloud, and it was the perfect moment to do it. He breathed you in for a fraction of a second, then without words he shifted. His hand slid from your cheek to the side of your neck, his fingers splaying out to anchor himself there. You tilted your chin, nudging your nose against his, then finally…His lips touched yours.

It was barely a kiss at first, it actually mirrored the way you had brushed the corner of his mouth with yours the night he had felt the baby kick for the first time, but only this was more like he was offering himself to you. Surrendering.

You let out a small exhale through your nose, and Bucky answered with a breath of his own, pressing a little closer, kissing you now with just the slightest bit of pressure. The softness of his lips captured yours in such an aching, and burning way…Because it was him kissing you with a kind of worship so raw and stripped down that it made your chest swell.

You kissed him back with everything you had, and with as much care as he gave you, trembling against each other with the weight of it all–the baby sleeping on your skin, the love that tied you together, the history, the hope, and the future.

When you finally broke apart, it was by small fractions, neither of you really willing to let go–your noses brushing, your breath still tangling together in the space between you.

“I’m all yours…” He whispered, letting the words fold into the fragile air, like a promise. Like a prayer. You closed your eyes for a second, breathing every inch of him in–his warmth, his steadiness, and his devotion.

“Forever and always, Bucky…Till the end of time.”

[writtenbyan-aries]

hey can you do one where johnnie and his girlfriend break up and he comes to reader afterwards crying and they end up fucking? I love you acc btw.

I love you 🖤

Warnings: soft SMUT18+, strong language, talk of breakup, sad beginning, happy ending, kissing, biting, scratching, oral (m rec), unprotected sex, soft filth

Word Count: 2.6k | unedited

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You sat up in your bed with a gasp, looking around in the darkness as you stretch over to turn on your bedside lamp.

You tapped your phone screen, seeing it was two thirty in the morning.

There was a knock again, and you quickly realize that it was coming from someone at your front door.

“What the hell?” You mumble as you kick the blankets off of your body, “Who could possible be knocking on my door at two thirty in the frickin’ morning?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walk to your front door. Everything shifted when you looked through the window to see Johnnie standing there alone.

You quickly opened the door, “Johnnie? What’s-“ you stop, immediately noticing his red nose and puffy eyes, “Johnnie.”

“C-can I come in?”

You nod, stepping out of the way. You walked forward to close the door, turning around to face him. You stayed silent, knowing exactly why he was there.

He takes a deep breath, his voice cracking as he speaks, “I-I’m sorry for showing up.. like this.. I know it’s.. I know it’s late.”

You shake your head, walking up to him, “It’s okay, J.”

“We broke up.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach as you hear the sobs slip through his lips.

You extend your arms out, stepping in to pull him into your body. Your arms cradle his head as he sobs into your shoulder, “W-we were fighting.. all night..”

“I’m sorry.” You gently scratch the back of his head, “I’m so sorry.”

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in tighter, “I-I didn’t know where else to go.. and I just.. you always help and I know we’ve been distant and I-“

“Johnnie.” You lean back slightly, “I’m always here. You know that. Do you want to talk about it?”

He nods against your shoulder and you nod, “Okay. Come on.” You wrap your arm around his waist and lead him into your living room, “Do you need anything?”

He shakes his head, wiping his cheeks with his hands, “No, no. I just-“ he scoffs, “We were so good.” He looks up at you, “So good, and then.. she just.. changed? I don’t even know if that’s the right word for it.”

“Start from the beginning, J.” You tilt your head as you bring your legs up onto the couch and face him, “I have off tomorrow, so don’t worry about keeping me up.”

He laughs slightly, “Okay.”

You give him a small smile as he takes a deep breath, “She was fine, like I said. We were good, with everything. And then I said about having you come back to do a video with Jake and I and she got all weird about it.”

“She wasn’t ever weird before?” You furrow your brows, “She knows that you, Jake and I are all friends, right?”

“I thought so.” He clears his throat, brushing hair from his face, “So I asked her what was up, and she kept pushing it off and pushing it off, saying nothing she was fine, and then tonight, as we were just hanging out on the couch, she seen a picture of you on my Instagram and that’s when everything started.”

You nod, a feeling of guilt washing over you, “Oh.”

“She basically came at me saying that I never have her be in any of her videos and that I always jump to have any other girl join us and I told her that that wasn’t the case, she said before that she doesn’t really like doing the videos Jake and I do, and that’s when I said about you because you’re down for literally anything.”

You laugh slightly, “I mean, you’re not wrong.” You quickly speak up, “About me wanting to be in your videos.”

“I know what you meant.” He sniffles, “She just kept.. throwing it in my face that I never asked her and I understand that she just wanted to feel included, even if she said no each time, but did she ever take in to consideration how it made me feel for her to not want to be included?” He shakes his head, “No. I don’t think she did.”

You nod, “I get what you’re saying.”

“So in order for me to just not have any kind of feelings about it, I just didn’t ask her because I already knew the answer.” He points, “And she never said anything, so I just.. is it my fault? Like is all of this, collectively just my wrong doing?”

“No, J. Not at all.” You reach out, gripping his shoulder gently, “She could have said something a long time ago if she wanted to just feel included with the video making process, you know? Like, hey, wanna be in this video? No? Okay then.”

He nods, “I did everything for her. I stopped going to Emo Nites because she didn’t like it, and didn’t like when I went without her. I stopped being in Tara’s videos because she didn’t like it. Fuck, I even stopped talking to you because I knew she didn’t like it and that was hard for me to do because you’re my best friend, y/n.”

He looks over at you, tears in his eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, “Please stop saying sorry to me. I get it. She was a new girlfriend. You guys really hit it off, you really liked her. In that situation, I really didn’t matter because it wasn’t about how I felt. It was how you felt. You know what I mean? I never really thought she had any issues with anything.”

He nods, “I just..” he shakes his head as he covers his face, mumbling into his hands, “I really.. actually liked her, loved her even.”

You gently run your hand up and down his back, “Let it out, J. I promise no one is going to judge you.” You move closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder, “I got you.”

You sit in silence, the only sound effecting the room is Johnnie’s occasional sobs, that absolutely shatter your heart.

He clears his throat as he sits up, “I just can’t stop thinking about wh-how she left.” He shakes his head, “Storming around the room, grabbing all of the stuff that she left behind each time..” he laughs, mainly trying to cover up his sobs, “We were only together for a few months, but I really.. thought.. she was the one I was going to be with forever.”

You frown, your voice barely there, “I know, J.”

You run his back slowly, “If there’s.. anything, I can do for you. You just let me know. I’m here to help.”

He turns his head, bringing his hand up to wipe his face, “Actually I-“ he leans in, pressing his lips to yours and at first you kiss back, but then the realization hits you.

You push your hands into his chest, “Johnnie, I-“

“Please.” He begs quietly, “I just need everything to stop for a little bit.”

You swallow, your eyes searching his face before you nod, “Okay.” You let out a shaky breath, “Whatever you need.”

He’s on you in a matter of seconds, your back pressed to the cushions of the couch with his body in between your knees.

His lips move from yours, trailing back your jaw and down your neck. You grip his jacket, pushing it down off of his shoulders, “Why don’t we go to my room?”

He nods, getting off of you. He tosses his jacket onto the couch and follows you to your room. His hands are on your hips as soon as you cross through the door, backing you up to your bed and laying you down.

His lips are on yours once more and your hands slide down to undo his jeans. He sits up, lifting his shirt off his body and you take the opportunity to take off yours.

You lay back, his body hovering over yours as he kisses across your bare chest.

Your breathing was rapid. You weren’t only nervous, but you were scared you were making a mistake, possibly doing something to ruin your friendship.

“Johnnie.” You whisper, your hands pulling his head up, “Well be.. fine.. after this, right?”

“Do you not want-“

“No, no, I do. I do, trust me. I do.” You scrunch up your face, not really wanting to add your feelings into the mix, “Sorry, that-“

Johnnie cuts you off with a kiss, “Just, focus on me and I’ll focus on you.” He cups your cheek as the kiss deepens, and you moan lowly against his lips.

He smirks slightly, pecking your cheek before he slides his hand down slowly to the band of your shorts. You nod, lifting your hips us and he starts to push them down.

You bite your lip, staring up at him before something switches inside of you. You sit up, pressing your lips to his, “Lay down, J.”

He does as he’s told, moving to lay down on your bed.

Your hands move to pull his jeans down his thighs and you shift around as he kicks his shoes and pants off.

You lay a hand on his cock, palming him as you lean down to press your lips to his in a heated kiss, “You deserve the world, J.” You kiss down his neck, nipping his ear gently, “You deserve to be happy.”

He groans as you add pressure to his hand, bucking his hips upward. You press a kiss to his cheek, leaning back down to whisper in his ear, “Like you said, just focus on me.”

You move down, glancing up at him as you pull his boxers down.

Your hand instantly wraps around his cock as it springs free from its hold, leaning in to lick a stripe up the underside.

His jaw falls open as your lips wrap around the tip, humming slightly as your tongue works over it. His hand moves to lay on your head as low groans leave his open mouth.

You work down slowly, letting him feel each second of pleasure that rolls over his body.

“Fuck, yes.” He breathes out, “Just like that.”

You bob your head, slowly building up into a slightly faster pace. Your hand twisting around the slick bit that isn’t in your mouth.

His hips buck as he moans louder, his fingers tangling tighter in your hair, “Goddamn.”

You push your head down, moving your hand to take him into your throat. He gasps, his hand holding you there for a few seconds before you sit up.

“That was-“ Johnnie smirks slightly, “you’re so good at that.” He sits up, pulling you to him. Your lips work with his as your legs swings over his body.

You reach down, not breaking the kiss until you sink down onto his cock. You both gasp, his hands fling to your hips as yours wrap around his neck.

He grips tighter, trying to get you to move but you stop him, “Just let me make you feel good.”

You push him to lay down, your hands pressing into his chest as you slowly roll your hips. You lean forward, raising your hips up and slowly pushing them back down.

“Feels so good.” He moans out quietly, “Fuck.”

You nod, “You feel so fucking good, J.”

He pulls you down for a kiss. It’s slow, and hot. You exchange moans, swallowing them with ease.

His hands slide up your back, then back down to grip your ass. His hands stay gripped, moving with the motion of them.

Your head tilts back as your speed picks up, whines leave your lips as you repeatedly slam down onto his cock, “F-fuck, fuck.” You look down at Johnnie, your brows furrowed as you feel the pleasure radiating through your body.

Johnnie’s hand slide against your cheek, his thumb resting against your lips.

With no hesitation, you take his thumb into your mouth and gently bite down, your moans sending vibrations through it.

He gasps as you close your lips and suck, “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

You slow your hips down, tilting your head back to let go so you can lean down and kiss him. He wraps his arm around your lower back and rolls you over, his thrusts taking over - nice and slow.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he peppers kisses all over your neck. You moan as your legs wrap around his waist, “So good, J.”

You lay a hand on his cheek as he looks up, “So fucking good.”

You close the space, ensuing in a slow and passionate make out.

Your back lifts off the bed, “I-I’m so close.”

He nods, sliding his hand down to grip your thigh, “Cum for me.” He kisses back your jaw, “You’re making me feel so good, baby.”

Your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat as his words send you over the edge, “Oh fuck.” You whine, sliding your hands around to dig them into his back, “Johnnie.”

He groans as he feels you squeeze his cock, “That’s it.” He whispers, “Let go for me.”

You paint lines across his back, moaning louder and louder with each thrust that guides you through, “Yes yesyes!”

Your chest presses against his as your back arches, your lips connecting with his.

You feel his thrusts grow sloppy and you unhook your legs from his waist, gasping as he quickly pulls out and spills onto your waist.

You let your head fall back, staring up at the ceiling as you try and control your panting.

“Do you.. have anything in here?” Johnnie gets up and you motion, “Yeah, my towel from my shower should be on the floor right there.”

“Got it.” He grabs it and walks back over, “I’m just gonna..” he chuckles slightly and you smile, “Thank you.”

He nods and tosses it back to the floor before grabbing his shirt. You furrow your brows, “You’re leaving?” You sigh, “I didn’t.. mean to sound like a jealous bitch or anything.”

He laughs, giving you a shrug, “I figured you’d want me to after.. that?”

You shake your head, “If I’ll make you feel better, you can.. spend the night? But only if you want to, o-of course.”

He smirks slightly and grabs his boxers to put them on.

You get up and grab a pair of underwear and your shirt, putting them on before sitting back on the bed. You feel Johnnie move behind you and he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Thank you.”

You smile, turning your head slightly his way, “I meant it when I said anything.” You laugh slightly as you move to lay down, Johnnie following and laying behind you, “I appreciate you, really.”

He lays his arm over your waist, pulling you closer, “I’m sorry that I.. initiated that. I just, I want you to know that that isn’t why I came here.. once we were sitting there it just..”

He trails off and you roll over to face him, “Came over you?”

“Yeah.” He brushes hair from your face, “Maybe it was sign, I don’t know.”

“A sign?” You raise your brows and he nods, “Yeah, a sign that I should have been with you the whole time.”

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Thank you so much for reading! I love you tons, and as always, I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[mischiefmaker615]

Use Me (Loki Love Story) Ch.3

Summary: Loki shows up at your brothel with an offer. What could go wrong?

Requested song inspiration: Use Me by Johnny Blue Skies & Dove Cameron & Diplo

You sat in the enormous bathtub with your knees to your chest. Your eyes may be a bit sore by how wide they had reacted throughout the day. This couldn’t be happening! You quit your second job and your first was no longer a thing. The only ways to gain money now was to.. please Loki..

That snake.. that trickster- that liar! He should have explained better.. given you a better description.. should have.. should have-

‘’you’ll gain wrinkles at the brow if you continue glaring like that darling.’’ he spoke up, having gathered a few oils and shampoos from the cabinets.

He had ordered you to take a proper bath.. little did you know, as soon as you submerged into the water he just helped himself like he owned the place- well.. he technically does. Though the point remains; what did he expect here? Your arms hugged your knees closer when he neared, the towel threatening to come undone from his waist while he set down the bottles onto the edge.

‘’scoot over darling.’’

Your eyes rose from his covered waist and up to his eyes. ‘’what-‘’

‘’you are really going to have to expand that vocabulary darling. make me repeat myself one more time and I might just have to help myself.’’ He lightly warned, playful seriousness behind it while your arms tensed a little.

Your eyes couldn’t have gotten enough of the sight of his skin. His toned muscles and porcelain skin.. shame he keeps it hidden under leather and armor all the time.. what was the big deal? You’ve seen men before- no.. that was the thing. You’ve seen men before, never a god. Perhaps its his attractiveness that made you hesitant and shy- or the fact that he was the frickin prince and you were submerged in his own bathtub.

With great hesitation, you scooted a bit- really seeing no need for it. The tub could practically hold three of him. perhaps it was an attempt to see if you’ll obey. As if working for the palace wasn’t enough.. nevertheless, you managed to scoot without really disturbing your position before your eyes snapped to the movement of fabric before your hands covered your eyes at the same sound of fabric hitting the floor.

‘’do not begin to tell me I am the first man you’ve laid eyes on.’’ You could tell he was holding back a laugh, the sound of water splashing indicated that he was going in and you could feel your hands beginning to shake against your face.

‘’it’s just.. it doesn’t feel right to look at the second prince of Asgard.. I don’t feel like it’s my place..’’ you told him in a quite voice, your thighs squeezing together nevertheless at the very thought of his naked body. The thin towel gave a good indication of what he had too.

‘’upon this agreement darling, it’s subtle permission that you are allowed to look.’’ He said gently, the nickname making your heart flutter ever so slightly while you kept your eyes covered.

‘’my body doesn’t know that..’’ you mumbled, knowing the unspoken rules to this whole thing yet your body still shied away.

‘’and what is it that your body wants..’’ he whispered, slender hands being rested gently upon yours knees, making your hands quickly move to look forward with shock- only to find him a few inches away from your face.

‘’my p-prince..’’ you stutter out, your hands uselessly staying at your chest while his thumbs stroked your knees. Oh gods this was happening.. this was it.. you were going to do it in the tub.. right here right now-

‘’lower your legs.’’ His voice was steady but soft, his eyes never leaving yours where they almost threated to glance away from his.

This was for the sake of money.. to leave.. you weren’t going to move forward unless you allow yourself to stop holding back. Taking a deep breath, you slowly began moving yours legs down, his hands staying at your knees as they both disappeared into the water. The corner of his mouth threated to tug up. To a smile or a smirk, you weren’t sure. Yet you did feel him move forward until you could tell both his knees were kneeling beside each of yours, his eye contact holding yours hostage before he leaned forward, a hand resting on the edge of the tub just beside your arm where he leaned his weight on now.

His other hand moved and your heart sped up, knowing you were wet enough but you acted like this was your first time. Oh gods where was his other hand going to go.. your eyes fluttered, almost wanting to squeeze them shut while you felt your cheeks growing red.

How confused did you feel when his hand grasped the bar of soap and he leaned back onto his knees, using both hands to rub the bar together before he sat on his heels. Your eyes looked at him like a deer in the head lights, heart racing while you still tried figuring him out, even when he put the bar of soap down.

‘’..my prince-?”

His eyes looked up from his hands lathering themselves with a curious yet casual expression. ‘’hmm?”

‘’wha-.. what are you doing?” you asked, feeling dumber by the second and wished the tub would just swallow you alive at this point.

‘’I am going to wash you properly.’’

The sentence alone had your heart jump, somehow finding that far more embarrassing than sex while your hands covered more of your chest with wide eyed. ‘’…w-why?”

Loki then let his smirk show ‘’it will give me great pleasure.’’

It was almost a stalemate, Loki giving you time to realize what he was doing before your eyes widened for the hundredth time today. Great pleasure.. this gives him pleasure? ..you two weren’t going to have sex?- unless this was some type of foreplay he was into.. touching you up before the big moment..

You felt your eyes threaten to narrow, to show him you knew what he was up to, even though the back of your mind knew you didn’t fully. Still.. you needed to earn your money, and the only way to earn that money was to.. comply.

By your body relaxing, so did Loki’s expression in which he knew he won. Yet to your surprise, the cheeky bastard moved himself away to lean his back against his own side of the tub, a hand raising to make a come-hither motion while you could tell he spread his own legs.

‘’lead your back against my chest darling, I need to be able to access.. all of you..’’ he almost seemed to purr while your cheeks heated up.

You knew what he was doing.. he had yours submission but he wanted more than that.. he needed your willingness. Its one thing relaxing and letting, its another to go to him. but you knew you both weren’t gonna get anywhere unless you moved- especially with a potential punishment in the balance if you weren’t willing.

Slowly leaning forward, somehow you felt like the water got lower while you tried to turn yourself with your body still submerged in the water. With a panicked movement, you quickened your movements before you turned yourself around, leaning yourself back with a blush between Loki’s legs yet the leaning position raised your chest ever so slightly out of the water.. hinting..

‘’good girl..’’ he whispered and before you could register or react, you felt his slender hands on your shoulders.

Your body was tense, red and confused, heart beating rapidly and mind trying to keep up. Though it was hard to really keep a thought with Loki’s touch distracting you. You know you had to sit still, obey, so you closed your eyes to concentrate on doing so before you felt yourself falling in the moment.

His hands moved to your shoulders, to your neck, arms and hands. Kneading and massaging, rubbing and caressing. You felt him lean forward briefly, guessing he was reaching for the bar of soap before you felt his hands on you again, this time on your stomach before they began moving higher.

Your eyes fluttered open, body tensing at where he was going and found your hands resting on his wrists before you could practically feel his smirk. ‘’relax..’’ he whispered. You weren’t sure what magic spell he seemed to cast, but your body didn’t stop him when he slowly began rubbing gently at your breasts, paying extra attention to them. You were glad your back was turned but you were sure he knew you were red faced. He finished with your chest and you heard the faintest of whispers telling you to lean forward, so you did.

His hands worked magic on your back, even getting knots out before he helped you lean back. His hands moved now to your stomach again, moving to caress your waist and hips before you felt them move slowly towards your center. ‘’you are so beautiful..’’

Your body seemed to come alive, jerking forward where you wrapped your arms around yourself and looked at him wide eyed. ‘’not there-‘’

‘’are you being unwilling love?” he asked casually, resting his arms on the edges of the tub in a relaxed position.

‘’I’m not- I just.. I can do it myself-‘’

‘’I know you can darling, but I find it much for pleasurable if I do it.’’ He smirked, amusement back In his eyes while your cheeks reddened.

‘’i-I don’t want you too-‘’

‘’if you are unwilling darling, then I can only tell you that it will earn you a punishment. Is that what you want? If so, I shall leave you be to finish yourself.’’

Why did that sound like an innuendo.. your mind debated on the punishment. He seemed.. relaxed about this whole thing, not at all bothered by your refusal and quite frankly, you were surprised your life didn’t flash before your eyes. Punishments for Maids normally were just blows to the behind, the back of the legs, extra chores and a slap on the palms. Yet this was Loki we were talking about.. you weren’t sure what his type of punishments were and you prayed it be something similar to be honest..

Just the thought of him touching your cunt had your hands covering your eyes again, seeing the mental image and making you blush madly all over again. Something about him made this whole thing.. unnumbable..

‘’as much as I enjoy the view darling, I am going to need you to make a decision.’’

His words made you uncover your eyes and yelp, quickly moving your arms back to cover your chest and turn away from him. ‘’I’ll.. I’ll take the punishment..’’ you said quietly.

‘’very well.’’ So casual.. nevertheless, you heard him get up and your eyes looked before you could stop yourself.

He was huge, biggest you’ve ever saw and you felt your mouth fall open while he moved out of the tug shamelessly and picked up his towel, casting a smirk your way which made you blush and look away.

‘’finish up, come out when you are finished darling. your clothes have been removed.’’

Tag List: @comehomecomehometous @trash-panda-kitty @kuroturo @lovinglimerence @kathren1sky-blog @soulpiercing @ildflue-17 @navs-bhat @ririsasaki @allbymyself17 @howl-and-midna-smeltser

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

UGHHHH I KNOW I YAP ABOUT 6x06 (pretty much all of the season tbh) RAYLLUM-WISE BUT. SOREN. SOREN, MAN. LIKE 5 MINUTES OF SCREENTIME AND HE STILL CRUSHES ME

YOU SEE THIS?! YOU FRICKIN SEE THIS?!

HE'S SOFT. HE'S SAD. LOOK AT THOSE PUPPY DOG EYES. He gets to forget for a single second all that Viren did to him and his family, and get what he's wanted for so long: An explanation, a true apology. He's still hoping because he is GOOD and he believes that others can be good, too!

AND THEN HE HARDENS. He catches himself. His dad is a villain, and Soren's built a whole life here with people who actually treat him right and well! He doesn't need Viren and he doesn't owe him anything, because you do anything for your children, never the other way around, and he's realizing that he's never needed him. And he's okay with that.

AGHHHHGHHHH

[sturnmeovr]

Introducing Neighbor!Matt x Brat!Reader

🎵 Name in the Sand by Lil Skies

In which Brat!Reader lives directly below Neighbor!Matt and his brothers. Her beauty sleep is constantly disturbed by the boys rowdiness. After dealing with their bullshit for months, she finally gets the courage to go upstairs and give her noisy neighbors a piece of her mind. The only thing she didn't expect was him and his Mattitude. This quickly turns to a neighborly feud — Matt making sure to stomp thru his shared apartment every chance he gets. Especially when he takes notice to his bedroom being directly above Brats. His pettiness pushes her to her boiling point once a week, she’d stomp up the stairs, red-faced while pounding on their door. Matt was always the one to deal with her and he always had a pissed off scowl engraved deep into his face. Deep down, a part of him just loved seeing her beat red in the face, her voice so angelic it barely seemed like she was mad. He'd never admit that, though.

Brat!Reader

🎵 Normal Girl by SZA.

Twenty-One. Party girl. Baddie vibes. Only child. Mommy issues. Daddy's Girl. The color red. Vinyl records. Her cat, Wendy, is her life. Always has the least lighting possible in her apartment. Works from home. Door dashes every meal. Struggles with her mental health. Hates being alone. Goes out almost every weekend. Always stuck in her head. Likes peace and quiet, unless it's her that's being loud. Messy queen. Hard exterior but so soft once she lets her guard down. Does not want to be fucked with - at all. Hates how attractive Matt is because she can't stay mad at him. Can't fucking stand her noisy upstairs neighbors, they're always disturbing her beauty sleep.

Neighbor!Matt

🎵Nuts by Lil Peep

Twenty-One. Homebody. Loser yet bad boy vibes. Triplet but gives off middle child energy. Commitment issues. Stoner. Gamer. Struggles with his mental health. Mattitude. Always tired. Lonely but loves his solitude. Would rather cut his own foot off than talk to a stranger. Secretly wants to catnap Wendy. Protective af. Always keeps an eye out for Brat to come home. Has no problem telling Brat like it is/putting her in her place. Lowk an asshole at times. Doesn't bite his tongue for anybody. Has the biggest crush on his bitchy downstairs neighbor, but he always denies it when asked. Loves messing with Brat because he knows she'll come pounding on his apartment door, its the highlight of his week.

♡‧₊˚ New au alert 🥰 I've been writing about babydaddy!Chris so much that I was missing my boy lol. Let me know your thoughts! Big thanks to @sweetshuga, @strnilolover & @chrislilcumslvt for helping me out with this one, I appreciate you guys soo much 🫶🏻

First Blurb

Tags - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @sweetshuga @loveparqdise @frickin-bats @delusional-4-fake-people @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @thepubeburgler @courta13 @shadowthesim @trevorsgodmother @watercolorskyy @chrislilcumslvt @luvr4miya @strnilolover @sagesturns

Masterlist

Taglist (comment to be added)

© M00NL1GHTS1VT - please do noy copy my work

[fazfuri]

This AU looks so frickin cool! Anyway, I wanted to ask how Deity!Bill would interact with Dipper and Mabel?

He hasn't interacted with them in this AU yet, but for sure he would care for them the same way Ax did for him. He goes soft towards children... esp mabel and dipper.

I'll be making a comic/animation explaining why in future content ^^