#chickys masterlist

[scarletmika]

So It Goes : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Bradshaw!Reader

Summary: From the moment you laid eyes on Bob Floyd, you were head over heels, and he was too. Your overprotective brother, though, was making it increasingly harder for either of you to make a move. Maybe it's time you defy his wishes.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, SMUT (unprotected p in v, oral f. receiving, dirty talk, praise, multiple orgasms, might be a slight hint of a breeding kink in there, kinda takes place in a public setting, aftercare!), porn with a LOT of plot, fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers, brother's best friend trope, language, female reader, alcohol consumption, reader works at a vet clinic, kinda a slow-burn, there is ONE "killing myself" joke in here, lightly edited so I apologize for any mistakes!

Word Count: 19,944 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

You hated Bradley’s Bronco.

Well, hate was a strong word; it was just…outdated. The seats were cramped, there was barely any room for you to hang your feet up on the dash, and the stereo system was also way too old for your liking. The lack of Apple Maps compatibility, or just Bluetooth in general, had gotten you and your older brother in trouble many times when it came to directions. He also loved driving without the top on, which part of you believed he did specifically because he knew it annoyed you to no end, but you had learned to deal with the roaring wind in your ears.

Honestly, you didn���t have too much of an issue with the vehicle until times like this: driving almost three hours north, further into California, with the wind constantly beating your face and your brother’s music blaring. Bryan Adams’ classic hit, Summer of ‘69, was blaring through the old stereo, but it was also the third time you had heard the song since you hit the road. Three times was enough to have you reaching forward to manually switch the song.

“Absolutely not,” Bradley’s hand left the steering wheel for just a moment to slap at yours. You recoiled with a scoff, kicking your feet up onto the little dashboard space you had, and pulled out your phone instead. “Dude-! What have I told you about feet on my dashboard?”

“You fucked Jamie Pierce in these front seats in college,” you shot back at him, not missing the sideways glare he shot you for the comment. “This dash has seen worse than my feet.”

“A hot girl’s tits and my sister’s dirty ass sneakers are two different things, back on the floor chickie,”

He didn’t care for the indignant groan you let out, just reached over to swat at your leg before you finally threw your feet back on the floor of the passenger side with a huff.

“This is abuse, I’m telling Mav,”

“It’s not abuse, but we both know you’re his favorite and he’ll side with you anyway,” Bradley shot back as you locked eyes with your brother, knowing smirks on both of your faces. Mav really did let you get away with a lot. Bradley only shook his head with a laugh, keeping straight at the intersection before you, Big Bear Lake finally in your view in the late afternoon sun.

The song switched: Higher by Creed. Bradley didn’t waste a second in singing along, shoving one hand in front of your face like a pretend microphone to get you to join in. You only shoved him away with another laugh, digging your phone out of the back pocket of your shorts as it buzzed.

“Mick says hit the gas before Hangman breaks down the door to the cabin,” your brother rolled his eyes at the update from your friends. “Told them that I think we’re ten minutes out.”

“We are,” Bradley cleared his throat performatively, straightening up in his seat as he glanced over at you with a semi-stern look in his eyes. “Which means it’s time we lay down the ground rules for this trip.”

Ah. You were wondering how long this would take, for your brother to go full ‘brother mode’ on you and ‘lay down the law’ for your extended trip to the lake. You let out an exaggerated sigh, one that got you another look shot your way.

“This is your birthday trip, Roo. Do we really need to do this?”

“I’m your older brother, I make the rules-”

“Older by, like, two and a half years–give me a break!” you laughed incredulously, turning your head to watch the trees passing on your side of the car.

“Still older. Rule one: I know my squad are your friends too, but if anyone makes any comments toward you, you are to tell me immediately,”

Yeah, as if that would happen. It had been almost exactly a year since you had met Bradley’s squad: The Dagger Squad, the elite squadron formed at North Island under the command of your godfather, Pete Mitchell. It was right around Bradley’s birthday the year before that they’d been made a permanent squad. He’d called you immediately and convinced you to move back home to California with him, since you had stayed close to your college after graduating.

It wasn’t a hard decision to come home. You and Bradley…you were all each other had left, besides Maverick. There were also an abundance of vet clinics in the country, it wasn’t hard to find a new place to work. So, you flew in to go apartment hunting in San Diego on Bradley’s birthday, and met the entire squad. Meeting that crew of pilots was the easiest thing you had ever done. They accepted you with open arms, brought you in as if you were one of them, calling you their ‘Baby Roo’ or sometimes stealing Bradley’s own little nickname of ‘Chick.’ You were family to them; no one was going to be making any comments toward you.

“Highly unlikely, but go on,”

“Rule two: never be alone with Jake Seresin-”

“Bradley, you don’t even need to make that a rule; I do that of my own volition. Get on with it,”

“Rule three, the most important one of them all: keep your eyes and your hands to yourself and off of Bob,”

Ah, Bob Floyd. You saw that rule coming from a mile away. The only one of that entire squad, your group of friends, that you didn’t look at like extended family, like long-lost cousins, or more siblings. The moment you had walked into the hard deck and locked eyes with those deep, blue eyes hidden behind those dorky little glasses, you knew you were fucked.

“Bradley-”

“That means no eye-fucking him, chickie,” Bradley cut in, not allowing you to speak. You only sank lower into your seat with a sigh, knowing this was going to go on for a while. “Don’t be cuddling up next to him on the couch, don’t try sneaking off with him, don’t be ogling him when you think no one is looking, don’t make those little heart-eyes, for the love of god don’t wear those stupidly tiny bikinis…”

Your phone buzzed, a saving grace to save you from having to listen to your brother’s rant (that happened once a month at this rate). Opening your texts, you expected another message from Natasha or Mickey that Hangman had gotten impatient and broken down the door of your rented cabin.

A smile crossed your lips involuntarily the second you saw his name: Bobby. The rush of butterflies that flew through your stomach and into your chest, making your body feel weightless, as if you were floating in the clouds from a silly little text. That’s what Bob Floyd did to you, and he barely had to try.

Another flight of butterflies through your chest, almost begging to be let out and set free. Your smile only grew as you looked at his contact photo, just picturing him. His glasses probably slipping down the bridge of his nose, that little smile formed by those lips you spent way too many nights thinking about, and looking at. You wondered how he was dressed right now, if he was dressed down in a white t-shirt that would hug his biceps in a way that would almost have you drooling.

“-DUDE! You’re doing the heart-eyes shit right now–oh my god, he fucking texted you, didn’t he–knock it off!” Bradley reached over as you came up to a stop sign, grabbing your arm and getting a quick look at your screen before you could pull your phone away fully. “ARE THOSE HEARTS BY HIS NAME?”

“You have a heart by your name, too! So does Natasha!” you argued back, settling back into your seat with your phone back in your pocket. Bradley’s two hands returned to the steering wheel, and you let out a sigh as you saw the white knuckle grip he had. “Bradley, you treat me as if I’m not a grown woman. I’ve dated men, I’ve fucked men…what’s your problem with me having a crush on Bob?”

“Because he’s my best friend,”

Here you both went again, around in circles on the same argument you had been having since the night you met Bob Floyd. 

You liked Bob…hell, at this rate, you were verging on the edge of saying you loved him. His laugh, his ability to get snarky when timing called for it, the way he was an absolute gentleman and opened every door for you, even brought you lunch at work some days when he had the time. You weren’t blind, either: he liked you, too. Neither of you ever said it out loud, but it was obvious. The constant brushing of hands when walking, the lingering stares, the way you always chose seats next to one another in a room, you both made your feelings evident without needing to say it. But there was Bradley, ever the over-protective older brother, standing in the way of things for an entire year with the simple excuse of ‘he’s my best friend’ every time. And sadly, neither you nor Bob wanted to anger him.

“Bradley, you would think that you’d be happy I chose Bob of all people. He’s, like, the perfect gentleman compared to most military men,” you shot back at him with a shake of your head. “I could’ve fallen for Jake-”

“Okay, first off, don’t even joke about you and Hangman. I don’t need that mental image,” he gagged at the thought, shuddering in his seat, as he turned down the road that led to the cabin. “Second, don’t even use the word love. Just…we aren’t going there. Bob is my best friend, and that just breaks so many sibling codes. You want to fight me on this topic when we get home, fine, but not for this trip.”

You didn’t get another word in before the Bronco pulled into the multi-car driveway of the cabin. You could make out Jake’s car and Natasha’s, meaning that the group was all here based on the earlier plans made for carpooling. You could see them, too, just barely up ahead, crowded around the electronically locked front door that only Bradley had the code to get into since he’d booked the place.

He was silent as he unbuckled himself, but when his glance turned to you, your gaze was formed into a glare and set on him as you practically threw the seatbelt off of you and threw the passenger door open.

“This conversation isn’t fucking over, Bradley,”

“Finally!” it was Hangman who called out from his place by the front door, waving over Bradley before he could comment back to you. “The fucking Bradshaw Bronco stopped moving at a snail’s pace, I see. You take the fucking scenic route? Come open the door so Reuben can get the grill going!”

You shook your head at the antics of your friends, laughing lightly under your breath as Bradley shook his own head and jogged over to get the cabin you’d be calling home for almost two weeks unlocked.

With him occupied, you moved around to the trunk, popping open the door and reaching in toward the back to grab both of your suitcases that had flown further back than you had placed them when loading. The door of the trunk was cutting into the skin of your thighs as you reached back into the trunk, when a hand suddenly curled around your waist. Fingertips barely brushed the exposed skin between the top of your shorts and your shirt as an arm reached past you to grab the suitcases. Despite the butterflies once again beating against your ribcage, you cursed the fact that your hormone-addled brain had the veins of Bob Floyd’s arm fucking memorized.

“I got them,” he’d mumbled out with a short laugh, tugging the suitcases to the edge of the trunk where you could fully reach them now. You spun, jumping up to sit on the open trunk bed so that you could fully look up at Bob. His smile grew the second you locked eyes, the hint of a red flush visible in his cheeks, but that hand didn’t stray from your waist. Instead, his thumb drew a small shape into your bare skin, and the heat that bloomed from his touch travelled through your body in an instant. “Hi.”

“Hi, Bobby,” you hated the fact that you were giggling like a little schoolgirl. He was barely touching you, had just said ‘hi’ of all things, and you were putty in his hands. “I told Bradley to step on it, heard a certain WSO missed me.”

“Yeah, we both know i-if you told him I said that, he’d have you halfway back to San Diego by now,” Bob joked, his hand leaving your waist to lug the suitcases from the trunk down onto the driveway at his feet. Your eyes followed every movement. The way his biceps strained against the sleeves of that ‘U.S. Navy’ t-shirt he wore, or the way his veins seemed more prominent from lifting what you knew was your heavy suitcase. Nothing was able to stop your depraved mind from even trailing your gaze to his ass for half a second.

“True,” you gave him a tiny grin as he leaned against the suitcases, looking back to you now with that softness in his eyes that you knew was reserved just for you. “I missed you, too, you know.”

Flustering Bob Floyd was one of your favorite pastimes, and it was just so easy. An easy brush of your fingers against his own, his arm, sometimes right across his chest if you could get close enough without Bradley breathing down your neck. Those simple little touches brought that delicious red hue to his neck and his cheeks, even the tips of his ears, if you really got him going. Words were the easiest, even the most simple of compliments from you got to him.

You had flustered him now with that simple admission: I missed you, too. Granted, you had just seen him the night before at a team dinner with Maverick in celebration of Bradley’s birthday, since the older pilot wouldn’t be joining you on the trip, but you missed him nonetheless. He had sat directly across from you that night at Penny’s dining room table, and every time you glanced up, his eyes were already on you, even if they looked away with a sheepish grin the second you caught him. The game of chicken with your gazes was interrupted by the swift kick that Bradley had landed to your shin with his foot from his seat beside Bob, followed by the piece of garlic bread you threw at his face that had Maverick mumbling about how ‘you two were why he never had kids’ as the entire squad laughed.

“I-I just saw you last night,” Bob was shaking his head, teeth biting just barely into his bottom lip as he looked up at you. His hands were tucked into the front pockets of his shorts as he rocked back and forth, a nervous tick you had picked up on of his.

“No–you don’t get to turn this around on me, Floyd!” he laughed at your teasing as you jumped back to your feet, standing now before him as you tilted your head to look up at him fully. His eyes only left yours for a moment to trail along your index finger, pointed right into his chest. “I have the text message proof that you said you missed me first.”

You could tell he was biting back another laugh, his lips curled into a cheeky smile that was tinged with adoration, just like your own was. A cord of tension hung in the air between you both. Not an uncomfortable one, just an ever-present one. It was hanging by its last thread, looking between you both to see who would snap first and finally cut it, but neither of you moved, just locked in your own little bubble together as if the rest of the world didn’t matter. It didn’t matter, not when you were with Bob, the only man who ever had your heart ready to leap out of your throat with nothing but a smile.

That was, until Bradley himself broke your bubble. His sun-kissed hand came in, almost out of nowhere, swatting at your hand until it hung back by your side. The pilot’s other arm wrapped around Bob’s neck, and you could tell by the slight wince in Bob’s face that Bradley was tugging him in just a tad bit harder than he needed to be.

“Ah, it’s so nice to see my best friend and my sister getting along…such platonic friends,” your eyeroll was instant as your brother exaggerated his delivery of each of those key words. His smile was tight, teeth gritted, as he shot you a look in his eyes that read ‘what the fuck did we JUST talk about.’ “Bob, help me bring the bags in, please. Coyote has the grill going, and we need to do inventory before we make a run to the store.”

Bob obliged your brother, just as he always did. Of course you two were stuck in an endless ‘will they, won’t they’ loop with one another: Bob refused to cross Bradley’s boundaries, and you were a firm boundary that had been drawn since day one.

They stalked off as Bob sent you one last look over his shoulder, and you could barely make out the slight tinge of disappointment in them. Hangman blocked your view of your favorite Navyman, falling into step behind them. He casted a glance your way, mouthing a quick ‘cock-blocked’ your way that got him a mock laugh and a middle finger.

“I’m not sure what Bradley would rather let go of first…this damn Bronco or his obession with keeping you and baby-on-board from fucking,” Mickey’s comment drew a laugh mixed with a groan from you as Natasha’ slung her arm around your shoulder, giving you a place to rest your head as Mickey leaned on the car door in front of you.

“Neither, because he’s a stubborn and over-protective dick,”

“It’s just because he loves you,” Nat tried to remind you, leaning her own head against yours. “You’re rooming with me, by the way.”

“Ah, which means Bradley put you on cock-blocking duty during the night-”

“Have no fear, baby Roo, because I had an idea earlier,”

Your eyebrow immediately shot up at Mickey’s comment, his face full of pure delight and excitement as if he’d thought of the most brilliant plan in the world.

“Mick, last time you told me you had an idea, you ended up driving Reuben and me halfway to Sacramento before realizing you put the directions in wrong-”

“NO–that’s besides the point!” he interjected as you and Nat laughed at him, his cheeks burning at the memory he wanted to forget. “Look, I know you don’t want to anger your brother, and I know Bob doesn’t want to piss his best friend off, so you’ve respected Bradley’s wishes…for the most part. All you’re really doing, though, is driving us all insane. So, I’m going to make it my goal to get you and Bob as much alone time as I can.”

“Bob and I have been alone together plenty,” you shot back, feeling the rumble of Natasha’s body as she laughed at your statement. “He’s been to my apartment, he’s visited me at work, we’ve gotten dinner. If he hasn’t thrown caution and Bradley’s threats to the wind yet, what makes you think he will now?”

“A peaceful, tranquil, romantic lake? I don’t know, chickie, but you’re just as capable of saying ‘fuck it’ and making a move. Aren’t you tired of not being able to call him yours?”

You hated to admit it, but maybe Mickey had a point. The lake was beautiful, the house was beautiful, and if your best friend really could manage to distract your brother as much as he said he could…maybe that cord of tension could finally be snapped.

You were sick of not calling Bob Floyd yours.

❤︎

Your first night in the cabin was eventful, though it always was with the Dagger Squad. Coyote was an excellent cook, and the steaks and burgers he had managed to cook up were to die for. Payback and Fanboy had volunteered to make the food run to the local supermarket, coming back with what felt like the entire liquor aisle. It only took four drinks mixed by Hangman, who you suspected was mixing you doubles, before Bradley had carried your drunk ass off to bed for the night.

Not even a hangover stopped you from waking up at the crack of dawn the next morning, though, not that you wanted to be up. Your phone was showing it was only 5:30 in the morning, but given how quickly you had passed out the night before, you weren’t surprised. So, with one of Bradley’s old t-shirts tossed over your body, bare legs freezing in the cool California morning, you’d trudged as quietly past the sleeping Natasha in your bed and through the otherwise quiet cabin.

It gave you time to truly admire the cabin your brother had chosen. A fully open concept layout, the living room, dining room, and kitchen essentially mixed into one. A gorgeous a-frame shape, outlined in exposed wooden beams, with a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that bathed the entire home in the faint light of the sun just barely peaking over the horizon and glinting over the lake. Truly picturesque…and romantic, as Mickey had called it.

You’d been afforded just a few minutes of silence in the kitchen, just a single warm light over the stove turned on, as you dug through the now fully stocked pantry and fridge to grab everything you could: pancake mix, butter, eggs, sausage, bacon, bread, the entire works to feed an entire crew of Navy fighter pilots.

“You’re not a morning person,”

You almost didn’t recognize Bob’s voice this early in the morning–or was this still considered the night? It was lower, lower than you had ever heard it before, and raspy in that way that most voices were when you’ve just been pulled from sleep. The sound itself sent a shot of heat through your veins and your lower body. No one’s voice was allowed to sound that hot–it should be criminal for a voice in general to be that hot.

He was leaning against the island counter, a sleepy little smile on his lips. His ‘Dagger Squad’ t-shirt hung from his frame, a funny gift you’d given the entire group for Christmas the year before. You watched with your own little smile as he rubbed at his eyes from under his glasses, which were sitting just slightly tilted on the bridge of his nose, and as he ran his hand then through his hair to try and flatten it out. 

It was almost inevitable the way your eyes trailed downward, though, as he stretched. That navy blue shirt rode up just slightly, letting your eyes feast upon the sight that was Bob’s well-concealed abs and defined V-line that ran beneath the edge of his boxers. You hated the way your mouth almost dropped open at the sight as you ogled him like he was a museum sculpture, modeled to perfection. It took every ounce of willpower in your body to not eye up the bulge in his boxers, either.

You caught his own eyes as they, too, traveled along your body wordlessly. Over Bradley’s oversized t-shirt that was just barely covering your ass–which was already barely concealed by your black, lace panties–and down the expanse of your bare legs. Even in the dim light of the kitchen, you could tell there was a blush coating his cheeks as he tried to look anywhere but at you, but you knew you were sporting a similar red on your cheeks.

“I’m not, but I crashed so early last night I couldn’t sleep anymore. But last I checked, you aren’t a morning person either,” you shot back at him, turning back to the counter before you and rifling through the ingredients, reaching over to flip on the stovetop and arrange your pans. Anything to not think about the work of art that was Bob Floyd. “Except for work, that is.”

“T-That’s true. Guess I forgot to turn my work alarm off, though, because it went off a few minutes ago. Rooming with Fanboy and Payback, and I didn’t want to wake them, so I just came out here,”

With your back still turned to Bob, you smirked slightly to yourself. You could only assume that Bob’s alarm being on was no accident, and reminded yourself to give Mickey a sly ‘thank you’ later for his ingenious plan.

“Lord knows those two will be cranky if you wake them up this early,” you shared a laugh as you glanced back at Bob, nodding him over. “Since you’re up, come help me.”

He obliged, coming to stand right by your side at the countertop. The kitchen wasn’t small by any means, but Bob had placed himself directly at your side, edges of your arms just barely brushing one another, as you moved ingredients around before you both.

“Breakfast for the squad?”

“I typically do this on Bradley’s birthday. At least, when we’ve been in the same city over the years. If I’m already up, though, I might as well do it today instead of getting up early again on his actual birthday,” you explained as Bob held the glass bowl in front of you so that you could mix together the pancake mix with just a few cups of water. “It was a tradition our mom started when we were really little. I always got a cookie cake with a fun design, and Bradley always got breakfast.”

There was silence in the kitchen for a moment, just the quiet little hum of the gas stove as it heated the pans. Suddenly, Bob’s arm found its way around your shoulders, tugging you into his side with a press of his lips to your hairline.

“She’d be really proud of you two,”

Leave it to Bob Floyd to have you choked up before it was even 6 in the morning. Neither you nor Bradley talked about your mother often; it was still a touchy subject, but the squad knew the story. Bob must have seen it; the tension in your shoulders, the slight hint of melancholy that trickled into your tone at the memory. Bob knew you too well, better than anyone besides maybe your own brother.

When the guy at the Hard Deck months ago was flirting with you until you were ready to punch him, it was Bob who came to your rescue, noticing your discomfort from a mile away. The day you’d lost a patient, a young stray dog your coworker had found abandoned on the side of the road, and came into the Hard Deck after as if everything was fine. Bob had pulled you outside, simply took you in his arms, and let you weep without even needing to know what happened. At Maverick’s birthday party at his shared home with Penny, it was Bob who took your hand gingerly in his with a squeeze when you saw the photo hanging on the wall of your father. 

Bob Floyd could read you like an open book. You weren’t sure if you had left the pages open for him to read, or if he just truly knew you that well.

You let yourself lean into the feeling of him for a moment, wrapped up in the warmth and the way his arm felt like it belonged around your shoulders and that lingering heat from his kiss to your skin, before you dug your finger into his side until he laughed, swatting you away as you wore matching grins.

“Hey-!”

“No making me sad,” he only laughed again as you waved your spatula threateningly in his direction, his hand gently moving it out of his face. “There will be no sadness in my kitchen!”

“Oh, my apologies, your highness,” he gave a mock bow that had you rolling your eyes, even as your lips quirked up at the sight, before he fell into place beside you at the stove to lay the sausage and bacon in a pan while you flipped pancakes. “We ever tell you about the time Hangman tried to make us breakfast?”

“Hangman, doing something nice for you guys?” you teased, flipping the pancakes on the pan in front of you before piling them onto the plate next to you on the counter. “You probably didn’t tell me because it didn’t happen.”

“We would’ve been better off if it didn’t happen, actually,” Bob laughed out, reaching around you to grab another packet of bacon from the counter, his hand just barely grazing along your arm as a shiver shot down your spine. “He has t-this belgian waffle maker in his kitchen, right? But he’s never used it, it was a gift from his sister. So I had to teach him how to use the thing. He gets it flipped, until I realized that he used two cups of mix…and 6 cups of water.”

“Wait, hold on, 6 cups of water-?”

“Runniest waffles you’ve ever seen,” Bob explained, dumping the cooked sausage and bacon onto the plate next to him at the stove. “The mix came pouring out of the sides of the machine. I’m telling him to flip it back, but he’s not listening and instead hits the damn thing so hard it gets jammed. Suddenly, t-the thing is smoking and burning the batter inside and the fire alarm is blaring. Had to evacuate the entire apartment complex because of it.”

You threw your head back laughing for a moment, just picturing the absolute chaos that was probably happening in that kitchen that day. Bob laughed with you, leaning into your side until your arms were pressed right against one another.

“This is why, anytime I’ve cooked around him, I tell him to stay out of my kitchen,” Bob was still laughing. You watched him for a moment, gaze flickering to the bowl of mix beside you, before back to him as your lips quirked into a smirk. “At least none of you started a food fight…not like I’m going to.”

“Like you’re going-”

Bob didn’t get to finish his sentence before your hand, slathered in pancake mix, ran across the lower half of his face. You were conscious of his glasses, you always were.

His eyes were wide as he turned to stare at you. Your non-mix covered hand instead covered your mouth, trying to conceal the cascade of giggles that were endlessly pouring out of you at the sight of him. His shock was gone not long after seeing you laugh, his batter covered lips spreading into a grin of his own as he reached for the glass bowl himself.

“...alright, war it is,”

Your shriek was still concealed by your own hand as you darted around the island counter behind you, using it as a barrier between yourself and Bob. He was laughing uncontrollably, hand covered in mix that was dripping down onto the wooden floor beneath your feet, and you felt yourself stuck there for a moment, reveling in the domesticity of the situation.

So many of your dreams had been of moments like this. There was one, once, just like this where you and Bob chased one another around the kitchen in the dim refrigerator light. There had been another dream, the same setting as before, but instead you were dancing in his arms as “The Way You Look Tonight” played off one of your phones in the distance. Late night drives, stargazing nights on the beach, dinner dates in restaurants by the shoreline. Many of the dreams were you, curled up in his arms on a couch as some movie played aimlessly in the background. Those dreams always took a turn, from innocent to downright filthy, as those large hands you’d spent too many late nights getting yourself off to the thought of would drift up your calves, your thighs, and then finally touch you right where you wished he would.

The middle of a food fight–one you had initiated–was the worst place to daydream about the man in front of you. Suddenly, Bob wasn’t in front of you, but at your side. Another playful shriek left your lips, this time not muddled by your hand, as Bob’s arms encircled your waist and spun you around. Pinned against his body and the fridge, your laughter never stopped as Bob’s hand covered in pancake batter ran over your face, from your forehead to your chin as the tasteless batter seeped past your lips and across your tongue.

“I concede, you win this war,” your giggles had turned soft. Both of your hands were wiping at your eyes, trying to keep stray bits of batter from sneaking their way into your eyes. Bob laughed with you, his hand still covered in batter trying to help, but ultimately just making the situation worse than it already was.

“No longer certain that one ever does win a war, I am,” Bob’s comment came under his breath, but he was close enough that you heard it loud and clear. Even through the batter smeared on his face, you could see the red seeping into his cheeks as you deadpanned at him.

“Robert, did you seriously just quote Star Wars to me?”

“I-I’d prefer if we pretended I didn’t just do that,” he shook his head, laughing at himself as a smile grew across your face. “Kind of embarrassed that I did.”

Your laughter mixed with his as you wiped at the batter on Bob’s face, clearing it from his skin. His gaze was trained on you, watching your every movement, as you cleared what you could from his skin. You could feel the sharp intake of breath he had the second your fingers ghosted over his lips, swiping the mixture from his skin, as Mickey’s voice played in the back of your head.

Aren’t you tired of not being able to call him yours

Bob’s breath audibly hitched again as you leaned up, lips brushing over his skin and against the corner of his mouth as your hand cupped his pancake mix covered cheek. You could almost feel the burn in his skin as, with a shot of confidence only found in the dead of night, your tongue poked out to rid his pale skin of the batter streaked along his face.

The hold of his hand, gripped onto your hip, grew tighter as you were suddenly made aware of it. Bradley’s old t-shirt had ridden up, exposing the expanse of your skin to Bob’s hand. The large appendage engulfed your hip, fingers pressing into you and leaving behind a trail of heat as his thumb drew circles into your skin, catching on the string of fabric that barely separated your body from his.

The bulge you tried not to look at before was making itself very known right now, pressed into the skin of your thigh in the close proximity you had found yourself in with Bob. As you pulled your lips from his skin, you had to force yourself to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat as your brain grappled with the sheer size of what was pressing against you now.

“Well…you’re lucky you’re cute,” the second you pulled back enough to look in Bob’s eyes, heat shot down to your core. Feral, hungry, you weren’t sure what the look was that was dancing across those blue irises. You could feel his groan in your own skin as his grip on your hip tightened, his teeth biting into his bottom lip.

“Y-You can’t do that. You can’t look at me like that,”

“Like what?”

“Like you like me,”

“I do…and I know that you know that. Just like I know that you like me, too,” you breathed out as your fingers danced along his jawline lightly. “So I’m just left wondering why you don’t do something about it.”

His dilated pupils stayed locked on you for a moment, teeth still sunken into his bottom lip, before his eyes cast a glance toward the direction of the living room. As if waiting for someone to appear. A sigh left his lips as he leaned forward, resting his head against the fridge behind you as his breath ghosted just over the shell of your ear. Your hand trailed down from his jaw, resting now over his chest. His heartbeat was quickened, you could feel the rhythmic beat beneath your hand, and you knew your’s matched his.

“Because there’s someone in the other room that will kill me if I do,”

“Maybe, but it’s really not fair if he controls our lives,” it took a moment for you to speak, dancing on the edge of pushing yourself over that line and making the leap you’d been too afraid to make for so long now. “It only matters if we’re happy, right?”

Bob moved back to his original position, his forehead just barely grazing yours as you looked down. Those dilated eyes behind those beautiful glasses darted between your lips, your eyes, and then finally back down to your lips, before an easy smile spread across his lips. His hand on your bare waist tightened, and a flurry of butterflies shot through your stomach and into your chest.

“You’re right-”

“Hot DAMN is that bacon I smell?”

The moment was shattered in an instant. Bob’s hand left your waist, space put between you both as he leaned against the island counter, leaving your back pressed against the fridge. A deep sigh left your body, almost emanating from your bones and soul itself, as you looked to the ceiling and cursed whatever forces were keeping you and this man apart.

Of course, it was Jake Seresin that rounded the corner into the kitchen. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes glancing between your pancake covered face, to Bob’s pancake covered face and his terrible attempt at hiding his boner from his teammate. His signature smirk, the one he shot both the ladies and every time he was ready to be a smartass, crossed his lips in an instant.

“Whoa there, didn’t know I was interrupting something. If you want to bring food into the bedroom, might I suggest actually trying that out in a bedroom next time?”

The glare you shot him was downright murderous as Jake only laughed. Bob retreated back to the stove, clearing the rest of the food onto plates with his back turned as Jake shoved you out of the way of the fridge with his hip to get himself a drink.

“Hangman, have I mentioned that I fucking hate you?”

“No, right now you should love me for keeping you two from playing hide the zucchini in the middle of the kitchen,” you could hear the short laugh that snuck past Bob’s lips at the comment, and you couldn’t help the quirk in your own lips at the comment. Hangman just shot you a wink as he passed by you. “Especially when your brother is going to walk in here any second now.”

“...oh,”

“Yeah, oh. Never say I hang you people out to dry ever again, I just kept this entire trip from imploding,”

❤︎

“Wait…so you two finally almost kissed?”

“Don’t ignore that almost part, Nat, that’s the most annoying part,”

Bradley had filled your first two days at the lakehouse with a packed itinerary. An entire day on your own private stretch of beach, followed by another dinner on the grill courtesy of Coyote’s masterful grill skills. The second day he never let you leave the water, crowding you all onto the boat that came with the house and dragging you out onto the lake.

“I just have to say, I’ve been doing the best I can,” Mickey chimed in, throwing his hands up in a surrender motion. “Your brother’s meticulous schedule has made it almost impossible to get you and Bob time alone.”

You huffed out a laugh, turning the page of your book. Your brother had, finally, allowed you all a day of nothing planned, and you had chosen to spend most of the afternoon lounging on the top floor balcony seating area with a good book. Perfect views of the water, the boats, the trees, and nothing but a beautiful breeze and plenty of sun.

“It’s okay, it’s still appreciated,” Natasha and Mickey were seated around the outdoor table with you, curled up on their own respective patio chairs. You’d claimed the couch, tucking your legs up under you on the cushion and letting the crochet cover-up over the top of your bikini set drape around your legs. “It’s annoying, but…I don’t know, something feels different now. Like that moment changed something. Turning his alarm on was a nice touch, though, Mick, I have to give you props there.”

“You turned that on?” Natasha shot Mickey an incredulous look, reaching over to whack him on the shoulder as he dramatically acted as if she’d really wounded him. “I’ve been making fun of him the last two days for that, Fanboy!”

“I woke up to go pee and heard little chickie over there in the kitchen,” Mickey tried to defend himself. “So, with Bradley fast asleep, I used Bob’s passcode and then set his alarm. Ingenious idea, if I do say so myself!”

You glance up from your book, eyebrows raised in question as you looked at your best friend.

“You know Bob’s password?”

“Most of us do,” it was Nat who chimed in this time, a smirk on her face as she took a sip of her drink. “It’s Bradley’s birthday.”

It was impossible to hold back the laugh that you let out at that statement.

“I’m sorry, you’re telling me that Bob’s passcode is my brother’s birthday-”

“Yeah, because it’s the day you two met,”

That…you weren’t expecting that. Mickey’s simple statement had you pausing, racking your brain for something to say. You weren’t able to speak before your best friends were hunched over, grabbing at one another’s arms as they laughed so loudly you were surprised the entire lake couldn’t hear you three.

“Jesus, Mick, I think you broke her with that!” Natasha’s laughter wouldn’t stop as she wiped at the stray tear that managed to spill in her laughter. Mickey simply picked up his water, trying to drink it through his own laughter.

“Did you see the way her brain literally stopped working? I think she started buffering the second her skin turned as red as a damn tomato!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re both fucking comedians,” you shot back at them, grabbing one of the chips on your plate from the patio table and tossing it in their direction.

There was a yell from somewhere downstairs that sounded like Reuben, telling the two of them to hurry up. He’d, somehow, coerced the two of them into joining him for an hour trip back into the heart of San Bernardino to go to the local mall. He claimed he just wanted to look around, but you had a sneaking suspicion Payback had managed to forget to buy Bradley a birthday present for the following day’s celebration.

“Alright, enjoy your book, baby Roo,” you huffed out a fake laugh, shooting your smiling friends a middle finger that they waved off. “And just know: we weren’t kidding. That really is why that’s Bob’s passcode.”

That thought floated through your head, even as you tried to relax in the warm California sun and read your book. It brought a smile to your face, one that you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried. Instead, you tried to just focus on the romance playing out in your book.

The couple were dancing together at a wedding, albeit not traditionally given the man’s medical condition. She talked about how in any other timeline, he would’ve never noticed her. He agrees, but says it’s because he used to be ‘such an arse’ and she laughs and agrees with him. Then, he gets a look on his face that she can’t stop staring at, and he tells her that she is the only thing that makes him want to get up in the morning. The most blatant confession of ‘I love you’ without having to say the words.

“Thought you told me that was a sad book?”

Ripped out of the moment, you glance up from your book to Bob Floyd himself. He was leaning against the back of your patio couch, blocking the sun from your eyes, and smiling down at you in his swim trunks and University of Montana t-shirt. You gave him an unimpressed look, but smiled nonetheless at just the sight of him.

“It is, but it’s still beautiful. And one of my favorite books,”

“You just reread it last month, didn’t you?”

“Well, now you just sound like a stalker, Floyd,” he laughed, standing up straight to let you situate yourself against the corner of the couch, bookmark tucked into your pages and book discarded to the other end of the couch. You eyed his outfit for a moment. “Where’s Brad dragging you boys off to?”

“Back out on the lake,” he nodded his head over the railing as you turned to look, seeing your brother working with Hangman and Coyote to get the boat ready to head back out onto the water. “Saw you sitting up here, t-thought I’d come check on you.”

“Always the gentleman,”

Bob smiled at that, leaning back down against the back of the couch so that he was just slightly closer to you now than before.

“Work hasn’t called to pester you yet?”

“I had a quick text from Taylor this morning, there was an older cat that she had some concerns about-” your eyes lit up as you snapped your fingers, pointing to Bob with an excited grin on your lips. “Oh! I never got to give you an update on the kittens the other day!”

“The feral ones some lady brought in?” he asked as you nodded.

“Healthy mom, seemed like she was once a housecat that either got abandoned or escaped. But seven healthy little kittens that we gave off to one of our foster families we usually work with,” your grin turned into a smirk. “And guess what? Six boys and one girl!”

Bob stared at you for just a moment, doing the math in his head, before hanging his head with a dramatic sigh.

“Chickie, don’t tell me-”

“There were two brothers that kept fighting with one another, so they obviously had to be named Rooster and Hangman,” Bob’s laughter was contagious, his entire body shaking as he looked up at you with a hint of amusement in his eyes as you hand settled on his forearm over the edge of the couch. “Hangman had a little bit of a shadow always following him, ready to back him up, so that obviously was Coyote. Two of the other brothers were like two peas in a pod, so they were easily Fanboy and Payback. The lone girl? Every time she made her presence known, the boys stopped fighting, so even if Phoenix weren’t the only girl in your squad, that little girl would’ve gotten her name from her.”

“And the last kitten?” Bob asked.

“Oh, he was my favorite. A perfect little angel,” your grin grew as your hand left Bob’s arm. His eyes followed your movements, locked in as your finger traced the edges of his glasses, barely skimming over the skin of his cheeks as you went. “The strangest little markings, like two big, black circles around his eyes, as if he were wearing glasses. It just made sense that we named that little angel Bob.”

Your hand fell back down, resting on top of Bob’s forearm again as you smiled sheepishly toward him. His own grin only grew, his other hand landing on top of yours with a squeeze.

“W-Was he cute?”

“Easily the cutest one of the bunch,” you replied with ease. “Possibly the cutest kitten I’ve ever seen.”

Bob laughed again, his hand engulfing yours with another affectionate squeeze that had your heart feelings as if it was tying itself in knots.

“Are you still talking about the kittens here?”

“Hm, maybe, who knows-”

“BOB! Get your ass down here!”

You rolled your eyes. Even when your brother didn’t realize he was being a cockblock, he was. Though if he knew he was interrupting a moment, he’d probably jump up and click his heels together like a lucky little leprechaun.

Bob chuckled at your brother’s insistence. Your eyes never left him as he hesitated for just a moment, before squeezing your hand one again and leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. The second his lips made contact with your skin, your eyes shut in just pure bliss as that familiar flutter erupted in your chest as you leaned into the feeling that was gone all too soon.

“I SAW THAT FLOYD!”

You both shared a laugh before Bob was gone off the deck in an instant, and you immediately missed his presence. When you dared to turn around and look toward the dock, your brother was shooting you a glare that you happily gave him the middle finger for, while Hangman and Coyote were making kissy faces and many lewd gestures in your direction from behind his back the entire time.

That little kiss weighed heavily on you the rest of the day. That cord of tension in your chest, the one tying you to Bob, was on the verge of snapping. You weren’t sure how much more of it you could take.

Since Payback, Fanboy, and Phoenix had already been in the city, Bradley had tasked them with bringing back pizza as he proclaimed a movie night in the living room on the giant flatscreen. They’d obliged, walking through the door of the house hours later with a stack of pizza boxes almost half the size of Phoenix herself.

“The Hangover? Seriously, Rooster, that’s so basic,” Jake complained with a groan from his place on one end of the sectional, plate of pizza and a beer in his hands as everyone took their places around the living room. “Thought you had better taste?”

“It’s my birthday trip, Bagman, I get to pick the movie,” Bradley shot back, settling down on the loveseat next to the sectional sofa with Phoenix, taking his plate from her as he queued up the movie on Netflix. “Not all of us want to watch chick flicks or 2000s romance movies all the time, I get enough of that with chickie.”

You shot him a fake laugh from across the room, ducking out of the kitchen with your own plate of pizza and beer. Bradley nodded toward the wall next to you before you could get too far, and you took the hint, flipping the light switch to plunge the living room into darkness. The only light now was the setting sun and the moon creeping into the sky from the windows.

“I’m not a chick flick guy,” Hangman scoffed, waving off Bradley’s comment as Payback settled on the couch next to him.

“Dude,” Bradley shot him an unimpressed look. “I caught you crying over Bridget Jones’s Diary, like, three weeks ago. Don’t even try it.”

There was a chorus of laughter through the room as Hangman mumbled something that nobody caught. You rounded the couch, falling into the open space on the opposite end of the section beside Bob, stretching out your legs on the chaise before you.

Coyote and Fanboy entered the room last just as Bradley started the movie. While Javy took the open space on the floor near Hangman’s end to use the couch as a cushion, Mickey stole the pillow out from behind your back, plopping it down right where your legs were as he shot a smirk at you.

“Mind moving your legs so I can lie down?” you shot him an incredulous look, until he gave both you and Bob an overexaggerated wink. 

Ah, another ploy by him.

Bradley always locked into movies hard whenever they were on, which worked in your favor at this moment. You curled your legs into your chest, allowing Mickey to lie across the chaise with another wink in your direction. The second you glanced at Bob, he lifted the blanket across his lap with a tiny smile, and you lay your legs out across his lap without hesitation.

The sun set, plunging the room into true darkness, just 20 minutes into the movie. Coyote had volunteered to do the clean up, clearing the plates and bottles from around the room while Jake and Bradley argued over who was the best character in this movie.

With hands now free, you tucked yourself further under the blanket that Bob had laid out across you both. Bob too tucked his hands under the warmth of the blanket, but they hovered there for just a moment, until his brain seemed to make up his mind and they rested against the skin of your own legs.

The movie was an afterthought in your mind at that moment, even as your eyes stayed locked on the screen. Every thought that ran through your head was about Bob’s hands. Their size, the way they engulfed your skin, and spread heat through every inch of their touch. The soft circles he drew into your knee, sending a small shiver straight through your bones that was complemented by the heat of his touch.

You couldn’t help but let your mind drift further, wondering what that delicious heat of his hands would feel like if they just drifted further up your legs. If they splayed out across your thighs, fingertips digging into your flesh like they had dug into your hip so early in the morning in the kitchen. What it would feel like for his featherlight touch to drift up the inner portion of your thigh, to graze over the edge of your sleep shorts to the spot you had dreamed about feeling him touch. Where you’d dreamed of the pleasure he could bring you from just one little touch to the most sensitive part of your skin.

Bob’s gaze turned to you in the dark of the room, and you looked back at him. Another shiver shot up your spine, goosebumps coating your skin, and you weren’t sure if it was from the chill of the air conditioning in the room or from that soft, adoring look Bob Floyd had every time he looked at you. He could feel the goosebumps under his own hands; you knew he could. His teeth bit into his bottom lip in contemplation, and action you couldn’t look away from, before his eyes flickered to Bradley, still engrossed in the movie.

In the shroud of darkness in that living room, spurred by Bradley’s inability to look away from his movie of choice, Bob’s hands left your legs. His arm wound around your waist, tugging you closer until you were sitting directly in his lap, legs curled up beside him. Your arms wound their own way around his shoulders, linking together at the nape of his neck as your fingers twirled through the strands of hair, tickling the skin there. Your eyes drifted to Bradley, who was still oblivious, as Bob draped the blanket further over both of you. His hands settled against you, one splayed across your hip while the other found its home on your thigh, sending heat just a short distance straight to your core as those thoughts filtered through your head once again.

Bob’s head leaned toward yours, his nose and the edge of his glasses just barely grazing along the edge of your hairline. You glanced at Mickey, who was looking back at you both with a triumphant grin. Even Hangman was giving you a thumbs-up from down the couch, which was met with your middle finger once more from behind Bob’s head. From the small rumble in the couch from his laughter, you knew he could see it even in the darkness.

Bob pressed another kiss into the side of your head, and you melted.

The movie was long forgotten to you the second you let your head rest in the space between Bob’s shoulder and his neck, your nose and lips brushing against his skin as you inhaled the scent of his cologne that you knew all too well: cypress and bayberry, the perfect sweet but earthy scent. You’d helped him pick the cologne out months ago. The second you said you liked the smell of it, Bob was at the counter purchasing it without ever smelling it for himself.

In Bob’s arms, wrapped in the heat of him and listening to the gentle beating of his pulse that could’ve lulled you to sleep, you realized there was no other place you wanted to be. You also were about ready to chew your over-protective brother out for keeping you from this man as long as he had.

❤︎

“I hope you all know I AM judging these presents and there will be an official ranking from best to worst after,”

The sun had just disappeared beyond the horizon on Bradley’s birthday, a day full of non-stop celebration. Hangman had been the one to wake up early that morning and make breakfast, almost burning the lodge down. When Bob met your eyes with an ‘I told you so’ look across the room as he and Coyote opened every window to fan out the smoke from the stove pans, you couldn’t help but break down into laughter. Another afternoon spent on the boat, followed by a fancy dinner in the nearby town, had all wound down to now.

Mickey had drug the firepit out of the lodge’s garage, situating it on the private stretch of beach belonging to the home. The teal Adirondack chairs littering the sand were situated in a circle around the fire Mickey had put himself in charge of attending to, and everyone had settled in. 

Your chair was placed directly next to Bradley’s, a request by him so that you could inspect each of the gifts placed at his side with him.

“Well, I say we go with the best gift first, which is obviously mine,” Jake said, sitting across the fire pit and gesturing toward the comically large green bag placed at Bradley’s feet. “It’s the one that’s quite large, just saying.”

“Compensating much?” Natasha snuck in her comment from her chair beside him, getting a cloud of sand kicked up into her lap that she happily kicked back at him.

You shook your head at their little spat, sipping on your beer as you pulled your feet up onto the chair. The lake breeze floated through the early night, providing a perfect contrast for the heat that still lingered in the air. Your arms sat wrapped around your knees as your glance found Bob’s, like it always did. He was sitting directly across from you, the orange glow of the flashes accenting his face and painting it in beautiful shades that reflected off his glasses. He shot you a tiny smile, and you hated the way even something so little had such an effect on you.

“Jake, seriously dude?” Bradley’s voice sounded done with Hangman, even as he was trying to conceal his laughter. Your gaze snapped back over to your brother as he held a very tiny bag that sat within the larger bag, reaching inside to pull out a circular, almost rubber-like object. “Is this a gag gift–did you seriously buy me a fucking cock ring?”

The group erupted into laughter. Bob and Natasha both almost tipped backward in their chairs from laughing so hard. Javy was pacing the sand, waving his hands in the air, and just repeating ‘nah, I’m done’ over and over again. Mickey was busy patting Reuban’s back as he coughed into the sand, having spit out his beer and choked on the air that rushed into his lungs. You simply covered your mouth, trying to contain your laughter while you could barely look in your brother’s direction. Jake just sat with a smug look on his face.

“You haven’t gotten any action in a while, thought this could…spice things up for your right hand,” he shot him a wink with that damn heart-breaking smirk on his lips. “Your real gift is, I told Maverick I’ll do all your paperwork for the next few weeks, so…you’re welcome.”

“Yeah, such a sweet gift that’s for sure going at the bottom of the list…next!”

Bradley took his time opening every gift that sat by his side. Natasha had played it safe, just a few new pairs of button-ups that she joked would ‘never stay buttoned up’ and a new pair of aviators. Fanboy and Coyote had joined together to get Bradley a brand new golf club set, one that poor Mickey had to run off to get from the garage so it wouldn’t have ruined the surprise.

Payback’s gift bag had some books that your brother had been wanting to read for a while, along with another bottle of the cologne he typically wore. He’d forgotten to take the price tag off the bag, though, so when you shot him a look and he avoided your gaze with a fake whistle, you knew you were correct about why he suddenly wanted to run into town the day before.

“Little chickie’s gift comes in an envelope,” Bradley announced to the group, proudly showing off the little letter envelope in his hand before tearing into it to get to the card. “As my sister, I’m immediately expecting great things from you and will judge this gift harshly.”

You just watched from behind your beer bottle, using it to mask your smirk as Bradley flipped the card open, and his mouth dropped in an instant.

“Holy shit…”

“Don’t leave us hanging, Rooster! What is it?”

“Suspense is killing us, dude!”

“Los Angeles Chargers tickets?” Bradley turned to you with wide eyes, and a laugh tumbled from your lips at the look on his face.

“I know you’ve been dying to go for a while, so I figured I’d be the world’s greatest sister. 50-yard line, home team side, down in the 100 section,”

Bradley was at your side in a second, leaning down over the side of the chair to wrap you in a hug, rustling your hair and pressing a kiss to the side of your head before you shoved him off with a laugh.

“Quick question,” Hangman chimed in from across the beach. “Do those tickets come with a ‘must take Baby Roo’ stipulation, or…?”

“Bagman, I’m taking Mav to this game before I’m taking you,” Bradley shot back as another round of laughter echoed through the group. He picked up the final bag by his chair, a light blue in color, and pointed across the fire toward Bob. “You’re up, Bobby! Let’s see if you can beat little chickie.”

Your eyes found Bob again, head resting against your hand, and you just watched. Watching him was one of your favorite things. The little quirk in his lips when he smiled, those expressive blue eyes that were always blown wide like a baby deer. Even watching him now, as he seemed to watch Bradley nervously, your thoughts drifted back to all those little moments.

The feel of his hand on your waist. The gentleness that he touched you with, subconsciously knowing he had permission to but still walking the line until you gave him the go-ahead. That soft look in his eyes, that one he seemed to have reserved only for you. The second you’d locked eyes in the Hard Deck that day, you knew you were a goner, but somewhere along the way…you weren’t sure when it became love, but it did.

Loving him quietly was killing you.

“Sis…”

Bradley’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. All eyes were trained on you, and Bob’s nervous smile was turned in your direction now. You whipped around to face Bradley, a stray tear falling down his cheek that had you jumping out of your seat within a second. But then, he turned the picture frame in his hands around, and your breath caught.

You’d only ever seen Nick Bradshaw, your father, in photos. He’d passed away while you were still a little bun in the oven, and there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t give in this world to meet him. But you knew what he looked like; you carried a photo of him with you everywhere. That light brown hair that looked almost blonde in certain lights, those big, brown eyes that were the same color as the chocolate bars you loved so much. He was almost always in a Hawaiian shirt, buttons undone, when he wasn’t in his flight suit. You knew where Bradley got it from.

Carole Bradshaw, on the other hand, you knew her like the back of your hand. That light blonde hair and bangs she’d sported her entire life, barely ever letting her hair grow past your shoulders. She let it grow that long just once when you were in middle school, and complained about it every day. Those pale blue eyes, such a stark contrast to your father’s darker ones, always looked down on you in pure adoration and affection. She loved color just as much as your father, you swore every dress in her closet was colorful and patterned.

One gone before you even graced the world, and one gone too soon. You never got to have a photo with them both, never got to stand beside your father for homecoming, prom, or graduation photos. Bradley had so many photos from when he was little with your father, but he always said how he wished you were in them, too. He never spoke it out loud, but you know he wished that his father was beside him in his own prom pictures, or holding his high school diploma with him.

But now, in the frame in Bradley’s hand, you both had what you never did. What you had always wanted.

The picture of you and Bradley had been taken two months ago, another night out at the Hard Deck. Natasha had taken it, while Bob had convinced you to put on Bradley’s Hawaiian shirt. He had stood behind Natasha, positioning you and your brother against the Hard Deck’s patio railing, the ocean and sunset the perfect backdrop.

This was that photo, but different. Wrapped around your other side was your father, light brown hair, deep chocolate eyes, mustache that matched Bradley’s, and his very own Hawaiian shirt to match the one on your shoulders. His arm lay around your shoulders, hugging you to him as your other arm was wrapped around your brother. Your mother stood at Bradley’s side, just as you always remembered her. Blonde hair hitting just below her ears, bangs styled to perfection, soft smile on her lips, and hands wrapped around Bradley’s arm as the colorful plaid pattern of her dress stuck out.

The perfect family photo you had never had, taken as if their ghosts had been beside you that night, posing along with you.

“Y-You both just always talk about them, about how you miss them. How you wished you had a photo like this,” Bob chimed in from across the fire pit, a slight stutter to his words, and he cleared his throat. “I found someone who kind of specializes in things like this…thought it was time you guys finally had a Bradshaw family photo.”

You couldn’t take your eyes off your parents, even as Bradley moved the photo into your hand completely, his feet moving through the sand. That black frame was hugged tightly to your chest as you looked up, seeing Bradley hugging Bob to him tightly, patting him on the back over and over as he mumbled something to him.

Bob’s gaze caught yours, and all you could muster was a watery smile as you looked at him, letting a single tear slip past your defenses. His eyes seemed to soften upon seeing that, mouthing something along the lines of ‘you’re okay’ in your direction.

“Well, I think we all know who’s at the top of Bradley’s gift tier list…”

Hangman’s comment didn’t matter, nor did the laughter of your friends. All that mattered to you was the frame in your hands, and the man who had so graciously thought of it and gifted it to not just your brother, but to you.

You weren’t sure when you quite fell in love with Bob Floyd, but in this moment, you knew there was no man in this world you could ever love more.

That thought stuck with you as the night wore on. The fire was put out, the chairs left buried in the sand, all as the moon rose higher into the sky. Most of the team huddled in the game room, conversing about something Maverick had texted them earlier in the day, and laying out the plans for the hike around the lake trails that would begin the following morning while engaged in an intense game of pool. Bob wasn’t with them, though, off somewhere else in the house.

You were alone in your shared room with Natasha, sorting through both of your piles of dirty clothing so that you could throw them in the wash the following morning. Those thoughts wouldn’t leave your mind, of Bob and the love that was bursting out of your chest at the seams, as you mindlessly sorted through the clothing. There were three quick raps on the doorframe, and you tilted your head up to see Mickey leaning against it with a grin.

“Convinced your brother we needed more alcohol,” he informed you. “There’s a 24-hour store in the little town down the road where we had dinner, so we’re going to run out and grab some stuff. Might be done in 20, maybe 30 minutes…”

You simply gave him a nod as he trailed off, turning your attention back to the clothing in front of you.

“Sounds good, be safe,”

He hummed in response, going quiet for just a moment.

“I know you, chickie. I know what’s going on in your head. I’m taking your brother out of the house for half an hour,” you glanced back at him again just as he was disappearing around the corner with a smirk and a wink. “Bob’s in the hot tub, if you’re not too busy with your dirty laundry.”

His words hung there in the air as your gaze flickered over to your suitcase. Sitting right on top was one of the bikinis you had yet to wear: a tinier, black string one, much more suitable for tanning than swimming. But Mickey’s words hung in your head, the softness of Bob’s stare was burned into your memory, and those butterflies were beating against your ribcage.

Moments later, there was a towel wrapped around your body as you padded out into the quiet living room. The overhead lights were off, just the light of the TV and the one above the stove in the kitchen illuminated the area. You could hear your friends off down the hallway, laughing in the game room, but your mind was set on your destination.

The lower-level patio door was already cracked open, letting the cool nighttime breeze flow into the house as you stepped into the doorway. The moon shone down over the lake, but your gaze was too busy admiring the man resting in the hot tub in the corner of the patio.

The patio light was off, leaving just the blue shine from the lights in the water to reflect back on Bob. For once, his shirt was off, half of his torso buried in the steaming water. His head hung back against the edge of the circular tub, resting his eyes and occasionally wiping at the steam that fogged his glasses. That blue light illuminated him, every inch of his body, and highlighted every dip and crevice along his collarbone that your eyes trailed along as if they were a map. He looked so beautiful, so peaceful in this light with just the faint sound of the hot tub's jets ringing through the air.

“Have room for another?”

Bob’s head shot up, mouth falling open just slightly as he reached for his towel hanging off the side of the tub, wiping the fog from his glasses. He relaxed just a bit at the sight of you, lips pulling into a soft grin.

“Always,”

Your eyes never left his as you let the towel fall, tossing it off to the other side of the patio to the hammock swinging in the gentle breeze. Bob’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and you could see his eyes trail down your body. Over your neck, your collarbone, down the valley of your breasts in the bathing suit that did nothing for modesty, down your hips to the strings just barely hanging on at the sides, before back up to your eyes.

Neither of your gazes moved as you settled into the hot tub across from him, the heat of the water warming your skin in seconds. It was barely meant for two people, your knees brushing in the middle as you took your seat. Bob’s legs instantly parted, allowing yours to slot in between his own as you were caged between them. Only then, soaking in the steaming water, did you let your gaze trail away from him and out to the lake, to the shadows of the pine trees in the distance. That blue light illuminated you both, now, and it only seemed to make his blue eyes shine even brighter.

“That gift…felt more like a gift for both of us than just one for Bradley,”

You could hear his soft laughter, the way it stumbled slightly with the nerves running through him.

“It was too good an idea. D-Did…you like it?”

Your gaze found his again, voice low in the quiet night.

“I loved it,”

That cord of tension was back, tugging between you both in the most unbearable way. It almost hurt, how close yet how far Bob seemed at that moment. So, you toed your foot along that line, just barely dipping it across as you spoke again.

“You want to play a game?”

Bob quirked his head, like a puppy trying to understand its owner. Then, he nodded.

“Sure, why not?”

“The yes or no game,” you responded. “We ask each other questions, simple ones. Answer yes, or answer no. That’s all.”

“Sounds…e-easy enough,”

“Good,” you took a deep breath, before shoving yourself fully over that invisible, mental line that had been drawn between you. “Do you like me?”

Bob didn’t seem shocked by the question. It’s like he already knew the second you settled into the water that the line between you both was gone, was blurred. He ran his hands over his thighs, taking in a deep breath, before giving you a small nod.

“Yes…and I think you know that. Do you…like me?”

“Yes, and I know that you know that,” he huffed out a short laugh at that, enough to bring a smile to his lips that had one growing on your own. “Do you want to follow my brother’s rules?”

“God no,” Bob laughed again, as if saying the words was finally releasing the tension from his shoulders that had been hanging there heavily for months. “Do you?”

“No. Never wanted to in the first place,” you gave a little shrug, stretching your arms out along the edge of the tub on either side of you as you watched him, that cord of tension hanging by the barest of threads. “So…why are you still doing what he says?”

Bob paused for a moment, just watching you, but that smile slipped into a tiny smirk.

“That…wasn’t a yes or no question,”

“Well, yes or no is going to get up about as far as the last year of hopeless pining and sneaky glances have gotten us, so forgive me,” 

There was another shared laugh between you both before you fell into silence. Comfortable, but heavy, the weight of your words and the conversation at hand hanging in the air. Bob rolled his neck around, before taking in a deep breath as he found his words.

“Because…you’re Baby Roo, and he’s my best friend,” Bob gave a shrug, his hand drawing little circles in the water as he watched the water swirl around. “You walked into the bar that day, and I thought…fuck, I-I think the girl of my dreams just walked in. Then you talked, you joked like you’d known us for years, and sassed Hangman back with ease, and I knew I was so incredibly fucked. But he’d given us the talk upward of four times that week that you were off limits, that not a single one of us was allowed to make a move, no matter what.”

“He gave me the same talk, too,” you responded, giving him a tiny shrug of your own with a short laugh. “Told me all of you were off limits because you were his best friends. But I still walked into that bar and fell for you without even realizing I had.”

“You’re all he has, though. You’re the last thing he has, the most precious thing in the world to him. I couldn’t defy him like that,” Bob continued, letting out another laugh and running his soaked hand over the bottom of his face as he glanced at the ceiling, before looking back at you. “You are…the embodiment of sunshine. I-I could listen to you talk for hours and never get bored, because I never get tired of just being around you like I do others. You invade every one of my waking thoughts, every one of my dreams, and I can’t even pretend that I try to make them go away because I want them there. I get to have you in those thoughts when I know I shouldn’t, when I promised my best friend I wouldn’t look at you that way. But then you smile at me, you call me late at night and say you just want to hear my voice…and I can’t bring myself to push you away because, selfishly, I don’t want to. I can’t.”

You stared at him. There was nothing you could do in that moment, not when it was all finally out in the open. Your chest was tightened up into a knot, your stomach in your throat, but you also knew there was nothing but pure love shining through your eyes as you looked at him across the water.

Bob waited quietly, looking as if he were holding his breath. You could see his hands gripping onto his seat beneath the water, as he waited for you to speak.

“He’s all I have left, too. That’s why I’ve always listened to him, why I-I’ve always trusted him,” you leaned forward, hands dipping under the water to rest on your own seat as you gave him the smallest smile you could muster, nerves shining through as you stumbled over your words. “I might be his little sister, but I-I’m not a little girl. He can’t dictate my life forever, especially not when…not when it’s keeping me away from the man I’m so hopelessly in love with.”

That word hung in the air: love. The weight of it crashed over you, and you could see it crash over Bob in real time. The way his eyes widened just a fraction more in shock, before that shock dissipated into more of a disbelief. Then, you could physically see the way his pupils dilated, the way his eyes almost seemed to darken, as a flash of something new washed over them.

The hot water sloshed around the tub as Bob surged forward, invading your space. You sat still, letting it happen, as his arm wound its way around your waist and simply tugged. A small noise tumbled from your lips, something akin to a gasp, before Bob settled back into his seat on the far end of the tub. The hot water splashed up your torso as you instinctively spread your legs, letting them settle on either side of his waist.

The water began to calm, the little ripples and waves dying down, as you both sat there for a moment. Bob’s large, calloused hand splayed across your hip, fingers just barely toying with the string of your bikini bottoms, before they traveled downward, fingertips inching their way over the edges of your ass with a firm grip. Your hands left the water, trailing up the expanse of his bare chest that you took a moment to admire in the dim blue lighting. They settled on his broad shoulders, water dripping down his collarbones and back down into the pool of water you were submerged in. Bob’s other hand didn’t waste a second, cupping your jaw, thumb running over your lips with such intentionality that a shiver shot down your spine even in the heat of the water.

“I’ve been in love with you since the moment you stepped into the Hard Deck,” his voice was low, soft, but there was a giddiness to it. It was even present in his smile, in his eyes as they trailed over every inch of you. “And if you don’t stop me right now…I’m going to do something that’s going to piss off your brother-”

“Piss him off, please,”

He didn’t need to be told again. His hand tugged, the one now fully cupping your ass pulled until you were fully seated across his lap, and Bob Floyd’s lips met yours. You sank into the feeling, and there was only one word moving through your mind: finally.

He kissed you with so much love and devotion woven into the very fabric of his movements. Every drag of his lips pressed in firmer, hotter, as if it was a brand against your own lips. Leaving his mark so that you’d never be able to forget the way he loved you.

“I love you,” Bob had all but moaned out, tongue just barely peeking past your lips as yours met back with him, hands sliding into his hair with a tug that had another moan tumbling from his lips. “Fuck–I love you–I’ve dreamt about this. So, so, so many times, baby.”

“I-I’ve dreamt about it too,” a sigh of pleasure tumbled past your lips as Bob’s lips left yours, a flash of heat through your skin at that simple little pet name. They trailed to your cheek, to your jaw, and down your neck in a trail of heat and saliva. Your hands in his hair held tighter, nails scratching against his scalp as Bob let out a groan against your pulse point, leaving a searing kiss over your neck. “Tell me…tell me what you dream about.”

The hand enveloping your ass pressed down hard, firmer, pushing your core directly against the bulge waiting for you, just you, in Bob’s lap. Another moan of pure ecstasy fell from your lips as the hand on your jaw quickly woven into your hair, tugging over so slightly. You didn’t hesitate to roll your hips after the initial contact, a shared moan falling between you both in the quiet of the patio as your barely covered core dragged itself over the bulge of his hardened shaft. Your breath quickened the second you did, holding onto Bob as if your life depended on it, as you felt the sheer size of him beneath you, a flood of arousal coursing through every inch of you.

“I-I’ve dreamt of this,” his words were breathy against your skin, hot, wet kisses still trailing up and down your neck, and down to your collarbone. His hand left your hair, trailing down your spine as he bit into the hollow of your neck, leaving a soothing kiss along the mark moments later. “You right–fuck–right here, falling apart. Ruining me. God, I-I was ruined the moment I met you.”

“So was I,” it felt like you had been deprived of all of the oxygen in your body, your words barely audible at the moment. One hand left Bob’s hair, trailing down his chest, over the toned abdomen he so expertly hid. You let your nails leave a trail over the defined lines of his abs. You felt his breath hitch against your collarbone, his kiss frozen in place, as your nails ghosted down the deep V-line that ran beneath his swim trunks, dipping just below the waistband. “Most of my dreams d-don’t have me on top, though. That’s usually you, ruining me for any other man for hours on end until I’m begging you to stop…even though I don’t really want you to.”

Bob’s head flicked up, glasses fogged, nose trailing over your side of your neck, up your jaw, before just barely nudging against yours. His lips were just a breath away from yours when you finally dipped your hand beneath the waistband of those swim trunks and held him in your hand.

God, you could feel how swollen he was just from this, and there was only maybe a third of him sitting in your hand. Not even the heat of the water could compare to the heat of him, of the way the skin of his throbbing, thick cock burned into your hand. Bob shakily exhaled, his lips barely ghosting over yours as your thumb just barely brushed over the head. His member twitched in your hand, his hips rutting up into your hand to feel you move, as his lips caught yours in a searing kiss that had you moaning into his mouth. His lips alone swallowed the sound, his teeth just barely grazing your bottom lip as the hand cupping your ass tugged your forward once more, dragging your core back along the bulge in his swim trunks.

“Fucking hell,” Bob groaned out, your hand still gripping him with a light squeeze. “Tell me this is real and Phoenix didn’t kill us in the air and send me to heaven.”

His words tore a laugh out of you, your hand sliding out of his trunks and back up his body until it rested against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm brought a tiny grin to your lips. Bob tugged you in again, forehead resting against yours, as those bright blue eyes shone with unconditional love when they looked at you.

“This is real, I promise. Late, but real,” he laughed with you that time, leaning in to steal yet another kiss from your lips, a flutter cascading through you at that sweet, timid, loving press of his lips to your own. “If Phoenix accidentally killed you now, I’d probably kill her in retaliation.”

“That’s fine, because Phoenix is thinking about just ending it herself given whatever the fuck she just had to walk in on,”

The third voice on the patio drew a yelp out of you. Bob tensed as you both jumped away from one another back to opposite ends of the hot tub as if the other person were on fire and you couldn’t get away fast enough. Your head whipped around to Phoenix leaning in the sliding glass doorway, a hand shielding her eyes from the sight of the two of you.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you muttered, running your hands down your face as you glanced at Bob. Messy hair, swollen kiss-bitten lips, and eyes as wide as saucers as he stumbled over his words.

“P-Phoenix, that uh–uh-that wasn’t-”

“Save it, Floyd,” she cut in, her voice clearly exasperated as she still kept her hand up so she didn’t have to look at either of you. “Look, I’ve been rooting for you to two say fuck it to Bradley’s bullshit but–this is a PATIO! Any one of us could’ve walked out here, my god! You couldn’t find a more private place to try and fuck each other?”

“Nat!” you groaned with a bit of a shout, seeing Bob out of the corner of your eyes shake his head, cheeks flushing an even darker red than before. You dragged yourself out of the water, stepping onto the wooden patio and walking past Natasha to wrap yourself in your towel, finally catching her eye. “The fuck did you even come out here for?”

“Mickey told me to come check on you two, see if the raging sexual tension had finally broken,” Nat finally dropped her hand now that you were wrapped in your towel. Bob was stumbling out of the hot tub himself at the other end of the deck, drying himself off with his own towel. “He and Bradley just pulled into the driveway, so you’re welcome. My god, imagine if he had walked out here instead to see you two well on your way to a homerun-”

You shoved past Natasha, cheeks flaring red at her laughter, her attention now turning to congratulating Bob on ‘making a move’ while you focused on getting into the shower before Bradley walked in to question why you and Bob were alone in a hot tub together.

Your brother was none the wiser to what had occurred the rest of the night, too engaged in his game of pool with the others over another round of beers to even think about it.

Then, there was you, lying in bed beside a fast-asleep Natasha, very much unable to not think about the hot tub. About every drag of Bob’s hands across your skin, at the heated trailing of his lips along your neck, at that cock you were desperate to feel pressing inside you-

Jesus Christ, you needed to sleep. You flipped onto your side with a sigh, grabbing your phone; 1 a.m., and you still couldn’t sleep. A soft groan tumbled from your lips as you flopped back onto your back again, before a foot from the other side of the bed reached out and kicked your shin under the covers.

“Chickie, I have been able to feel you tossing and turning for, like, two hours,” Natasha’s voice was muffled by her pillow as she, too, groaned. “Just go the fuck to sleep.”

“I can’t, that’s the problem!” you huffed in exasperation, running a hand down your face. “I keep thinking about the fucking hot tub, and Bob’s hands, and his lips, and his fucking big ass di-”

The fighter pilot was up on her knees in seconds, grabbing her pillow in her hands and whacking you with it multiple times as you held your hands up in defense, begging her to stop. When she finally did, the glare she fixed on you was illuminated by the streaks of moonlight pouring through the blinds.

“I do not want to hear about Bob’s genitalia, dude. Good on you for finally saying fuck it to Bradley’s stupid rules and getting your guy, but I don’t need to hear the play by play of your hot tub fondle session,”

“Okay, but like, it’s true. They always say it’s the quiet ones that have the big dicks-”

Natasha’s groan cut you off again as she flopped back onto the bed, head buried into her pillow.

“I am drunk and exhausted. Go have wet dreams over my back-seater by the lake or something, not right beside me, for god’s sake,”

Well, it wasn’t a terrible idea.

In just one of Bradley’s t-shirts and a pair of panties, just as you had been days ago in the kitchen, you found yourself not long later standing by the lake in the dead of night. The patio light was off, every light within the house was off, leaving the private beach to be illuminated by nothing but the moon. The sand was cool beneath your feet, those tiny little grains pushing into every crevice that they could. Gentle waves from the lake lapped at the tips of your toes, soaking the sand before you before it retreated once more, just to repeat the cycle. 

A quiet night. Lines of pine trees separated your private home from your neighbors, leaving you well and truly alone in the peacefulness. The perfect place to think, to let your thoughts roam to the man you had been hopelessly in love with for so long.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

There Bob stood as you whipped around, a gentle breeze billowing the large sleeves of your t-shirt just slightly. The moon reflected off his glasses, casting a small sheen of light over his eyes. His own t-shirt hung loosely from his body, barely covering the top of those dark blue boxers that hung around his hips. Your eyes couldn’t help but dart down to them, now knowing what lay beneath. When your eyes met his again, you could feel the heat in them as that same heat rushed through you.

“Was hard to,” your voice was breathy, soft as if not to disturb the peacefulness of the night. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Glad I wasn’t alone in that,” a small laugh tumbled from Bob’s lips as he spoke.

That cord of tension had already broken when his lips touched yours for the first time, when his calloused hands had caressed every inch of your body, when your own had pushed past the waistband of his swim trunks into the land of no return. It was back, now, but heavier. It hung in the air between you both again, but different this time. It wasn’t so much tension anymore as it was pure hunger, pure need for a feeling your body craved.

Your hand toyed with the edge of your shirt as you spoke before you could stop yourself to think.

“I think…I’m going to go for a swim,”

Bob’s lips quirked up, eyebrow shooting up just slightly.

“In that?”

You tugged the shirt over your head without another word, discarding it to the sides somewhere in the sand. The hitch in Bob’s breath was audible even from where you stood, his lips parting as they soaked in every inch of your bare chest and torso on display for him. Without ever looking away from his gaze, you leaned forward, slipping the lace panties that clung to your hips down your legs at an agonizing pace, before they joined your shirt in the sand.

Bob shifted in place, and you could visibly see the bulge in his pants grow and harden just from the sight of you: bare, standing before him in the quietest hours of the night.

“Don’t need clothes to swim, not on your own private beach,” you gave him a small smirk, taking small steps backward and further into the cool lake water waiting for you, and beckoned him with a single motion of your finger. “Want to join me?”

“Y-Yeah…yeah, I do,”

The water was cooler in the night, sending a shiver up your spine and coating your skin in a layer of goosebumps. It rested right below your breasts by the time Bob had thrown his own shirt in a pile by your own, and his boxers joined it seconds later.

Fuck. He was big.

You had already felt it before, but seeing it with your own eyes was something else entirely, something that soaked your core without ever having to be touched. Thick and flushed, the head just a few shades darker than the rest of him, one large vein visible from where it ran down the side of his length that you could only imagine was pulsing.

Before you knew it, he was standing before you in the water, towering over you just slightly. The waterline sat somewhere along his abdomen, and you could see the goosebumps running along his own skin. You flicked your gaze from his collarbone to his eyes, still partially shrouded by the glint of moonlight across his glasses.

He took a step closer, invading your space, as the heat that radiated off his body seeped into your own skin and warmed you in the cold water. It was almost as if, on instinct, guided by something deep inside yourself, your arms wrapped around his shoulders to rest your hands across the nape of his neck as his own found their rightful place around your waist and tugged until your bare body was flush against him.

Bob didn’t give you a second to think about it before his lips were back on yours.

The kiss was heavier than your first kiss, his lips parted, and his tongue traced along the edge of your own until you parted for him without a second thought. His touch sent cascades of pure want and need through your very being, every little moan that slipped past those beautiful pink lips accentuated with the softest confessions of ‘I love you’ that you’d ever heard. That alone had you pressing further into him, carding your fingers into his hair and tugging, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth with a gentle nip at them. It was rewarded with another groan that emanated from somewhere deep within him, the grip around your waist firmer than it was just a moment before. Bob’s lips travelled to your ear for just a moment, hot breath ghosting over the shell of it, as he whispered.

“Jump,”

You obeyed. You’d obey anything he told you to do at this moment. His hands caught your thighs, slotting your legs around his midsection as your ankles locked around his back. Bob’s lips found yours again, head tilted just barely to the side as his mouth all but devoured your own, and the two large, calloused hands that had found their way to the curves of your ass tugged your body against him as hard as he could.

A gasp, a choked moan, even a mewl, whatever the unholy noise was that tumbled from your lips and was swallowed by Bob’s own mouth was unknown the second his flushed cock was settled between your folds. The heat of it alone was enough to soak you again as it throbbed against you in need. You could feel it physically twitch against you as Bob’s hips ground into your core just slightly.

With a hand still locked into his hair, you raked your nails against his scalp and ground your own hips against him.

You could feel every inch of him. The ridge right around the flushed head of his cock, the pulsing vein that ran up the side, you felt every bit of him as you rolled your hips back and forth over him, breath escaping your lungs in stuttering breaths. Bob choked on his own breath, pulling away from your lips with a thin trail of saliva connecting you before his lips locked to the side of your neck, biting into the kiss with a groan. He held you impossibly close to him as your hips ground against him, seeking any minuscule form of friction that they could as the water sloshed around your bodies, creating tiny waves of its own.

“Fucking h-hell,” Bob groaned against you, fingers digging into the skin of your ass so tightly you were sure his hands would be marked into your skin for days to come. “Baby–fuck–if you keep doing that I-I’m not going to last very long.”

“What a shame,” you choked out a laugh mixed with a moan of your own as the head of his cock caught just slightly over your opening, before gliding upward again. Tugging his head toward you, you bit just barely into his earlobe as you spoke. “I was hoping you’d at least be fucking me when you came.”

A small shriek flew past your lips as Bob turned you both on his heel in seconds, marching you up the sand bank and out of the water. He stumbled just slightly in the water, almost dunking you both back under, as shared laughter echoed through the quiet night and soft apologies were muttered from his lips.

With a gentleness that you could only ever expect from a man like Bob Floyd, he laid you back against the sand, the waves lapping just barely up around your thighs. On instinct, your legs parted, letting Bob settle between them like he belonged, his upper arms caging your head as he looked down at you with a passion that was anything but gentle.

You were pretty sure you clenched around absolutely nothing. It was sinful how soaked you were for this man when he’d barely touched you. At least, hadn’t touched you with intention.

Another kiss was placed against your lips, softer but still so full of love that another high-pitched and broken moan left your lips. Those plump, kiss-bitten lips trailed down your jaw, your neck, and over the valley between your breasts. A shaky breath left your throat as his fingertips just barely ghosted over the edges of your breast, skating right past your nipples that were already stiffened from the cold and arousal that flooded through you, before his lips languidly continued south. Over every inch of skin, a gentle kiss placed above your belly button and then a matching one below it, before they continued their journey south.

Bob’s hands found the bare expanse of your thighs, parting your legs further apart. You held your breath without even realizing it as he placed intentional kisses along the sensitive skin, before he hovered just where you wanted him most. You watched him as he simply stared, admired. A breathy chuckle left his lips, his hot breath just barely ghosting over your lower lips as you clenched once more.

“God…you’re the most beautiful thing this world has ever created. I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this,” he rasped out, need blown eyes looking up at you through his eyelashes, a thin sheen of fog coating his glasses. “Let me touch you…let me make you feel good.”

“Please…please, Bob, please touch me,”

He took your words to heart, tongue flattening as he dove in, licking one stripe directly up your core as your breath stuttered out of your lips.

“Darling–fuck–you taste like heaven,”

With one last groan, Bob buried himself in your folds. Eager, breath hot, lips drenched in the arousal that dripped and coated you. Whimpers fell from your mouth with every flick of his tongue right against your clit, every lap of his tongue through your folds and down to your opening as he dipped inside for just a second. He put every ounce of himself into it, tongue and lips buried in your core as if he were a starving man and you were a four-course meal spread out before him.

One of your hands curled in his hair, the other trying to find something to grip onto in the sand as the grains moved through your fingers, as those long, slender fingers you stared at way too many times prodded right at your opening. You cried out into the night, no care in the world for the volume of your voice, as his fingers pressed into you, stretching your walls as they curled against the spot you needed them most. Your back arched, and one of Bob’s free hands was quick to leave your thigh in order to press against your abdomen, holding you down onto the sand as the waves lapped cold water up your ankles.

“Bob–oh my god–Bob, please, don’t stop!” you mewled, breath leaving you in heavy gasps as your grip in his hair tightened, his groan reverberating against your core.

“I won’t,” you could barely hear him over your own cries and shattered moans. “I won’t. Let go, baby, I-I got you.”

He devoured you, tongue lapping at every bit of your juices that flowed from you in a consistent gush. His fingers never stopped, curling against that spot as they moved back and forth, your walls constricting around him as that ball of heat coiled tightly and tighter in your lower abdomen. You tried to lift your hips to get closer, but Bob held you firmly to the sand and somehow drove himself even deeper, practically drowning himself in you.

“B-Bob-!”

A single, desperate cry of his name was all the warning he needed. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and lapping at the bud and ravishing it with every ounce of attention he could give it, his fingers still curling deliciously against that spot as you cried out.

That coil inside of you snapped, a shattered moan leaving you, as your body pulled taut against him.

You were left in a haze, one where you were only able to repeat his name over and over again like a prayer. His fingers slipped from you, his hands finding themselves back against your inner thighs as they massaged little circles into your skin as the stars slowly faded from your vision, the tension in your body releasing as your muscles relaxed. Bob lapped just one last time at your opening with a hum that you could feel against your lips, before leaving one last gentle kiss to the most sensitive part of you that was still pulsing with need.

He was hovering above you when you finally peeled your eyes open. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched as he wiped at the fog that coated his glasses, but your eyes were locked to his lips. So red, so swollen, coated just like his chin in a sheen of your own arousal. He saw you then, watching him, and leaned in to kiss you with a soft lip on his lips. You mirrored it, a giggle bubbling out of you and into his mouth as he laughed with you, the aftertaste of your own slick seeping past your lips.

“You okay?” he whispered against your lips with a final peck, pulling back to see you fully. One of his hands came to cup your cheek, and you leaned into the feeling with a blissful, giddy look stretched across your face.

“Never better. It really is always the quiet ones that can absolutely ruin you, isn’t it?”

One small laugh shot out of Bob at that as he wiped at the beads of sweat rolling down the side of your face. God, he looked down at you so tenderly, so lovingly that it almost hurt. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve this man.

“I love you,” it was whispered against your lips as he leaned down for another kiss. Whispered into your skin like a promise. “I don’t think I could love you more than I do right now. But I know, come tomorrow, I somehow will.”

Even when he’d completely ruined you, Bob Floyd still managed to make your heart beat so erratically in your chest that you feared it would stop beating altogether.

That moment hung there for a minute as your body fully came down from the pleasure, as the heat left your body and allowed the cool night breeze to settle over you once more.

But even if the physical heat had left your body, the heat inside of you didn’t. Every moment you looked into those blue eyes, so full of love, it only grew hotter and hotter. You finally moved one leg, wrapping it around Bob’s waist and tugging him into you, letting your core meet with the incredibly stiff cock that you’d been dying to feel now for months. Bob sucked in a breath at the contact, and you could physically see the way his pupils dilated again.

“A-Aren’t you sensitive-”

“I don’t care,” you practically begged, hand curling back into his hair with another little tug. “P-Please, Bob, I don’t care. I need you, I’ve needed you for months. Please.”

“Shit–okay, okay,” Bob nodded along to every word you said, hand gripping the back of your neck once again as he pressed another passionate kiss to your lips that had you bucking your hips against him. “Fuck–okay, m-message heard. I…I don’t have a condom-”

“I don’t care,” you whined, watching as Bob let out a breathless laugh, tugging on his hair once again. “I’m on the pill, I don’t care.”

“Darling, i-it’s not safe-”

“Then that’s tomorrow’s problem,” you begged him, desperately. You knew you looked like an absolute mess. Dripping in lake water and sweat, remnants of make-up you hadn’t washed off probably streaked down your cheeks, pupils blown so wide in bliss that you were probably barely aware of just how much you were begging this man. “I need you to fuck me–I need to feel you–just, please, fuck me. If you knock me up, then we can just blame Bradley for driving us this far into fucking insanity.”

You weren’t sure which part of what you said it was that broke him, but you could guess. The way that Bob’s gaze got heavier, his breath catching, and his grip growing even tighter on your skin. Another bruising kiss was placed against your lips before his hands were on your legs, wrapping them around his waist, before he took his cock in his own hand and lined himself up with your core without another word and pressed forward.

God, the stretch burned, but in the best way. Your body gave almost no fight to him, still soaked to the core from the need you’d carried for this man for months. Your hands wrapped under his arms, resting against his back as you held him close, fingernails digging into his skin. Bob’s forehead dropped to your shoulder as he leaned in, biting at your skin just barely with every inch of him that sank into you.

“P-Perfect,” Bob’s moan was so broken as his lips trailed up to your throat, resting right over your pulse point. He was wrecked, as wrecked as you were, as your walls fluttered around him and drew another moan from him. “So beyond fucking perfect. So warm–so tight–all mine. Only mine.”

“Always yours…”

He bottomed out the second you spoke, your words cut off by your own gasp at the feeling. Bob’s hips sat flush against yours, sweat clinging to your skin and his own. Every inch of his cock was buried in you to the hilt, and you could feel the way it throbbed and twitched inside of you, the way that Bob’s own body shook at the overwhelming feeling. Your walls clenched around him, breath caught in your throat as your nails dug into his back again, so overwhelmed by the feel of him.

Better than anything you’d ever dreamed of.

Bob’s head left your neck, and he hovered over you for just a moment, as both of your bodies adjusted to the feel of the other. But as you looked at him, at the love that poured out of his gaze, it didn’t feel like adjusting. It felt like a welcome home, like the rejoining of two things that were always meant to be.

He dipped down, lips enveloping yours in a messy and heated kiss, as he pulled himself out of you just to dive back in.

And, fuck, you were a goner. You keened with every delicious drag of him against your walls, swallowing every grunt that poured from his mouth as his hips pistoned into you time and time again. A steady pace, one that had heat blooming through every inch of your skin and a flush crawling up your body. 

He’d drive into you, hold himself there, and drag himself out so slowly it was almost like torture. He’d repeat it again, and again, and again until your nails would dig into his back hard enough to pull a low groan from him. Then, the pace would change, hips his driving into you in shorter, faster strokes. All the while, his lips never left yours, saliva dripping between your plump, red lips as every wonton moan that left you echoed into the night.

“You take me so well,” his words were whispered in praise against your skin, lips trailing over your cheek to your ear, groaning directly into it as he drove into you faster until you were another mewling mess under him. “God–made for me–so perfect, so beautiful. So tight, so warm. Squeezing me, taking me so fucking well. God, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Bob–please–fuck me,” the feeling was overwhelming, tears almost pricking at the corners of your eyes as you held onto him, the sound of his hips snapping into yours mixing with the sound of your cried. “Harder–deeper–fuck me, p-please just fuck me.”

Bob’s head buried itself back in your neck as he did just that. His hips pistoned into you at the fastest pace his body could maintain, his hips driving into you so hard you could already feel the ache in your bones. Your nails raked scratches down his back, cries echoing in his ear as you could only find it in yourself to repeat his name over and over again like a mantra. Every thrust built that coil of heat inside of you, the thread begging to snap with every drag of his cock against your walls, with every squelching sound of your arousal pooling between you.

Your release came without warning, his body having shifted yours up just slightly enough that his hips were driving into you at a new angle, pushing him deeper than he’d been before. The second his hips had snapped into you, that spring coiling inside of you snapped, your eyes fluttering shut as the ripple of pleasure flowed through you. Your body clenched around him, his cock still slamming into you again and again as you sobbed out a moan into the night.

Even as it subsided, Bob didn’t stop, searching for his own release. Despite the ache between your legs, the rush of sensitivity in your core, you refused to stop until he’d found salvation. Your hand wound its way into his sweat-soaked hair, nose brushing the side of his head from where it was buried into your neck, as you held him close.

“Cum for me,” you’d choked out the words, barely a whisper. “Ruin me.”

It only took another three rolls of his hips against your’s before he bottomed out, nestled as deep within you as he could be, before Bob finally choked out a moan of his own and let go. You could feel him throb, feel it as he twitched, warmth flooding your insides and pooling inside of you. All you could do was hold him, eyes trained on the stars above through half-lidded eyes as you lay there together, panting and gasping.

Bob finally lifted his head, hovering above you. Your shaky hand reached for his glasses, wiping at the fog that coated them, letting you see the dazed look that had crossed his eyes. His lips quirked into a smile, a blissful one, that you mirrored instantly.

Not a single word was spoken as he pressed the softest of pecks to your lips, then another, and another. And when it had all subsided, when your breathing had finally returned to normal, Bob finally dragged himself out of you. He was quick to kiss away the wince in your brow the second your body was empty of him, adjusting to the feeling. Another kiss was pressed to your temple, your nose, your cheek, and you knew that smile on your face was never going to leave.

“Hold on,” he whispered, unlocking your legs from his waist in order to rise to his feet. “I got you.”

You didn’t fight back. Bob pulled you to your feet, hands on your hips, steadying you as that ache in your hips and thighs threatened to pull you back to the ground. Bob’s arms were quick to swing your legs up, cradling you against him as he stepped back into the lake. Your head never left his chest, letting his steady heartbeat almost lull you to sleep in his arms as he submerged you both in the water, ridding your bodies of the sand that had invaded every crevice. All the while his hands never stopped massaging little circles into your skin.

He carried you back up the beach, grabbing your bundles of clothing from the ground and bunching them up in his hand, before he placed you gently against the stairs going up to the patio. Your head leaned against the railing as his lips rested gently against the side of your head, promising to be right back.

You could only smile to yourself in the moments he was gone, replaying every moment from the night you knew you’d never forget in your head like a movie.

The sliding glass door opened softly before Bob appeared before you again. He was drier than he was moments prior, kneeling on the steps in front of you now in a new pair of boxers. He draped a towel around your shoulders, letting you snuggle into the warmth and run it over your soaked skin before taking the water bottle he so gently held out to you with an appreciative grin.

“So,” your voice was slightly hoarse when you finally spoke, chugging a good bit of the water before offering him the rest. He accepted, one hand resting on your knee with light patterns being drawn into your skin by his fingertips. “In all those dreams you’ve had of us, was our first time ever on a lakeside beach?”

“Absolutely not,” Bob responded with a laugh, tossing the empty water bottle up onto the patio somewhere. “But I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. It…it was perfect.”

You rung the last bit of water you could from your hair with the towel, tossing it up over the railing to dry before leaning forward, cupping Bob’s cheek in your hand to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

“It was perfect because it was with you,” you weren’t sure you’d ever get tired of that giddy smile on his lips. 

Bob reached behind you, slipping one of his own t-shirts over your body now that you were dry, before taking the spot beside you on the stairs. You leaned into his side without hesitation, his arm settling in its place around your shoulders as he pressed another kiss to your temple.

“I love you,”

You let those words really wrap around you, let yourself really feel them, as you looked up at the stars and moon glittering against the lake.

“I love you, too…now, what do you say we go pass out on the couch and give Bradley a coronary at seven in the morning?”

Bob’s laughter echoed through the night.

“Well, if you aren’t going to be the death of me…guess your brother gets that honor in the morning,”

[pitchsidestories]

taste II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1018

a/n: dear readers, this short, a little silly but cute oneshot was inspired by this request here, happy reading. 🫶🏻 🐈‍⬛

Autumn has finally arrived in Barcelona. Leaves painted in red, orange and yellow started to fall from the trees for one last dance. Baghera was entranced by what nature did and watched everything from her favourite spot in the living room close to the window.

Every year you both were falling in love with that season of the year, as it might be an ending to a summer you fully lived, but also the beginning of something fresh and new.

The champion’s league was about to start and games under the lights were always something special, alone the thought of it filled you with giddy excitement.

“Girls, I invited Esmee for dinner. That’s alright, right?”, you asked your girlfriends who were already in the kitchen.

“Yes, of course, kjaerste.”, Ingrid nodded friendly, standing in front of the stove. While Mapi was launching around in one of the chairs in a sitting position which screamed gay, and parents would judge because of bad posture.

“She was so sad that her parents left again. I thought she could use the distraction.”, you continued. The sad face of the young player was still fresh in your memory.

As a foreign player yourself you knew that being separated from your family for such long periods of time was hard especially when the nights got colder and the daylight shorter.

When you first came to Barcelona at Esmee’s age you were glad that Mapi and Ingrid welcomed you into their home with open arms, the appartement you began to share with them turning into a home away from home soon.

“That’s very sweet of you.”, the Norwegian commented, her forehead covered in frowning lines, looking concentrated at the recipe ahead of her.

“What’s for dinner?”, Mapi questioned smirking.

“I’ve something delicious planned.”, Ingrid announced delighted.

The Spaniard and you took a curious glance at the cookbook before exclaiming, faces formed to disgusted grimaces. “Pumpkin soup?!”

“Why do I have two children, one who has no patience and the other has the taste bud of a toddler?”, the dark-haired women groaned in response.

“Excuse me?”, you replied, pretending to be offended.

“I said what I said.”, Ingrid declared who tried her best to suppress a smile.

“Can’t you make some chicken nuggies?”, you asked your girlfriend, giving her puppy-eyes which you hoped would warm her Scandinavian heart. Often this worked out perfectly fine.

“Please, please, please.”, Mapi supported your suggestion loudly.

“Girls, seriously?”, Ingrid sighed, the defender and you knew from her sigh alone that you both had won in the question of what’s going to be for dinner.

A knocking on the door interrupted the discussion. You opened the door for Esmee and led her into the kitchen.

“Hi everyone. Ingrid, what are you cooking? Can I help you?”, the young player asked politely, peeking over the shoulder of the tall Norwegian.

“I’m making pum-…“, she started, one last attempt to get someone on her side.

“We’re having chickie nuggies!”, Mapi and you announced simultaneously.

Finally, Ingrid gave in: “Yes, we’re having chicken nuggets…“

“Thanks, love.“, you thanked her, beaming.

A small smile appeared on her face as she nudged your side: “You’re lucky I love you two so much.“

“We love you too, amor.“, Mapi replied, kissing Ingrids right cheek while you got on your tiptoes to kiss her left.

Esmee cleared her throat, making sure you hadn’t forgotten that you had a visitor.

Blushing, Ingrid pushed the two of you away and got to work.

You grinned at Esmee: “Hope you like nuggets, Esmee.“

She nodded happily, looking a bit relieved that it wasn’t pumpkin soup: “I do.“

“Then sit down while Ingrid shows us her cooking skills.“, you joked.

Ingrid rolled her eyes next to you. Of the three of you, she was definitely the best cook so making chicken nuggets was beneath her actual cooking skills.

Still, she managed to present you with a batch of perfectly crispy nuggets, a homemade dipping sauce and a bowl of fresh salad. You were all athletes after all.

“This is…“; Esmee said between two mouthfuls of salad.

“Delicious as always.“, Mapi completed the sentence for her, gleefully biting into a nugget.

Ingrid smiled across the table, seemingly happy that you all enjoyed her food: “Thank you, girls.“

“You’re the best cook.“, you agreed with the others.

“I’ll try the pumpkin soup another time though.“, the Norwegian warned you jokingly.

“I promise we’ll try it then.“, you assured her. It was only fair that she would get her pumpkin soup.

“Appreciate it.“

The food was quickly gone, leaving the table cluttered with empty dishes.

Mapi leaned back in her chair with a yawn: “Now time for a nap.“

“Thanks for the dinner, girls.“, Esmee said after she made sure that Ingrid didn’t want any help washing dishes.

“No worries, you’re always welcome here.“, you assured the young player and pulled her into a quick hug before she left.

You smiled to yourself as you closed the door behind her, you loved providing a safe space for the young players, making sure they had everything they needed even if it was just dinner.

“Y/n, Ingrid, hurry up!”, you heard Mapi call from the living room.

Ingrid left the kitchen, rolling her eyes: “That kid has no patience.“

“You still love it.“, you laughed as the two of you entered the living room where Mapi laid sprawled out on the sofa.

“Come into my arms, my loves.“, she laughed, making space for both of you on each side.

You didn’t even think twice as you launched yourself onto the sofa: “Coming!”

“All here.“, Ingrid smiled as she took the other side of the sofa.

Mapi sighed with content, wrapping one arm around each of you: “That’s how I like it.“

“Sandwiched on the sofa? We know.“, you teased her.

Ingrid chuckled lightly, reaching over Mapi and intertwined her fingers with yours: “Me too. With my two favourite children.“

With her eyes already closed, Mapi mumbled something unintelligible, already snoozing.

You cuddled closer into her side.

There was nothing better to do on your free day.

[astonmartinii]

honey, honey [mamma mia part three] | formula one social media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso & jenson button

mamma mia | no more ace to play | masterlist | tips

yourusername

liked by jensonbutton, charles_leclerc and 1,098,455 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel & jensonbutton

yourusername: little chick is finally showing and these old men are still obsessed with cars even though i'm RIGHT THERE !!

view all comments

user1: oh to be the one receiving those photos of fernando

user2: yeah yeah they're having a kid BUT the sheer amount of seb + fernando + jenson content we're gonna get

fernandoalo_oficial: so you go to goodwood with them but don't come to my race :(

yourusername: babe they outnumbered you but we'll be there in canada !!

jensonbutton: sorry some of us didn't choose to be a fossil in an f1 car. just hurry up and retire

yourusername: woah woah, let nando have his lil hobby

fernandoalo_oficial: y/n tell him he can't call me old

yourusername: jenson, fernando isn't a fossil, you know we prefer the term precious artefact, please apologise

jensonbutton: i'm sorry???

user3: omg this is going so fast

danielricciardo: ahhhh y/n is showing !! this is so exciting

sebastianvettel: chickie is the size of a lemon i think

danielricciardo: and you'll all be in canada?

yourusername: yes! i can't wait to meet all of you

danielricciardo: *can't wait to meet chickie's god father

fernandoalo_oficial: daniel you know we haven't decided that yet

jensonbutton: also i've partied with you, why do you think i'd trust you with my kid?

danielricciardo: ummm every child is entitled to a fun uncle ??

user4: i am once again stating how fucking obsessed i am with this set up

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, jensonbutton and 1,298,450 others

yourusername: my personal favourite snippets of the god father applications. not sure it really made me trust any of them any more than before.

view all comments

user5: i was not expecting to actually see the applications but they defo didn't disappoint

maxverstappen1: ummmmm @charles_leclerc what do you mean? you are the instigator YOU pushed me into that puddle

charles_leclerc: it's okay max get it out (@sebastianvettel @fernandoalo_oficial @jensonbutton see how i am able to de- escalate this situation)

maxverstappen1: try and de-escalate this foot up your literal ass

charles_leclerc: i will put you in time out (i.e. watch your ass going into turn one)

yourusername: you guys realise this is not helping the application right?

maxverstappen1: nuh uh who wouldn't want a world champion as a god father

charles_leclerc: low blow verstappen

yourusername: girlies chickie has dads with seven championships between them so i really don't think she'll be impressed by two

user6: i'm sorry but roscoe hamilton as the reference is killing me

user7: full government name and everything

sebastianvettel: you guys laughed at me but this has amused me to no end

yourusername: you're a genius and i love you for this

user8: L BOMB?

jensonbutton: i take back calling the idea dumb, you were right :(

sebastianvettel: oh how the tables have turned

fernandoalo_oficial: can we all just agree that we never thought those dumbasses would actually fill one in?

yourusername: it makes me even more excited to meet them

jensonbutton: trust me the charm wears off real quick

user9: the way kimi wrote nothing and will probably end up being the god father anyway

jensonbutton

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, alexalbon and 832,087 others

tagged: yourusername

jensonbutton: best thing about pregnancy cravings is i have an excuse to use seb's insane car collection and brush up on my french

view all comments

user13: on dad duty with the dad angle he's ready

user14: honestly my heart is so warm over the fact that they've all embraced the situation

user15: girl we saw jenson and nando at mclaren together ... it's been coming

user16: oh and that one podium with jenson and seb they just need a girl they all liked to get their shit together and that's the most them thing ever

sebastianvettel: a man goes to one meeting and suddenly julie is being taken on grocery runs

jensonbutton: y/n wanted bagels so ?

sebastianvettel: i know we're having an actual kid but be careful with my mechanical kids as well

jensonbutton: do you forget i'm literally a driver too honey

yourusername: thanks for the bagel baby bagel dates 4 ever

fernandoalo_oficial: cream cheese and salmon WITHOUT ME?

yourusername: we put it in the fridge for when you get home :(

fernandoalo_oficial: awwwww really ???

yourusername: we love you (but also you can't eat soft cheese or raw fish while pregnant)

fernandoalo_oficial: it's the thought that counts?

user17: god this looks like domestic bliss, how does one come about three men to have a kid with in the swiss mountains?

yourusername: honestly i'm so lucky

sebastianvettel: we're luckier

jensonbutton: we're luckier

fernandoalo_oficial: we're luckier

yourusername: fucking hormones are making me ball my eyes out

f1

liked by estebanocon, yourusername and 1,239,086 others

f1: category is ... baby presents !! y/n y/ln made her paddock debut with sebastian vettel and jenson button to support fernando alonso 💚

view all comments

user21: omg seb in his aston martin gear to support nando

user22: imagine showing this to someone in 2010 i think they would have a heart attack

danielricciardo: i had the best present ever god father is in the bag

charles_leclerc: i read your application there's no way, plus seb loves ferrari so my gift will be the best

mickschumacher: lets be real my application was the best

estebanocon: eh i think kimi's was the best

mickschumacher: he literally wrote nothing ????

estebanocon: and yet he outdid all of yall... embarrassing for some

user23: i feel like this fight to be god father is gonna end with a fist fight in the parking lot

yourusername: and i'll be there with my popcorn

sebastianvettel: maybe let's not encourage fighting

yourusername: why not, these squabbles over being in charge if all FOUR of chickie's parents die are the most entertaining thing in the world to me

jensonbutton: lets halt it on the fighting and dying talk okay (i will also be front row to watch these morons fight)

maxverstappen1: if it's a fist fight clear win for me imo

fernandoalo_oficial: how did we get here (i will referee)

danielricciardo: respectfully maxy, i will beat your ass

maxverstappen1: NUH UH

kimiraikkonen: i'm winning no question

sebastianvettel: now that i agree with

yourusername: i thought you were against fighting?

sebastianvettel: i guess it would be kind of funny (especially because any physical violence is an immediate red flag)

user24: okay but can someone actually let us know who got what cause i know these men probably got the dumbest shit that can never actually be used by a child

user25: there's a thread on twitter!

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 934,045 others

fernandoalo_oficial: old man still got it 👍 thank you to the team for your help, needed to impress y/n with my day job x

view all comments

user27: impending fatherhood got nando looking like he can make it an eight championship house

sebastianvettel: @yourusername he's good but i was better

jensonbutton: @yourusername and i was even better x

fernandoalo_oficial: ummm this is literally my post about MY podium?

sebastianvettel: i would've won but that's just me 😬

fernandoalo_oficial: 2013 called and it wants your attitude back 🤨

jensonbutton: it's been ten years guys... (i would've also won)

sebastianvettel: well my trophy cabinet is the fullest so chickie will know who was the best by that :)

yourusername: the sexual tension is killing me, how did yall not shag back in 2010?

jensonbutton: too busy winning and being sluts elsewhere x

maxverstappen1: yall claim you would've won? yall wouldn't get close to me sorry not sorry

sebastianvettel: oh look who's out of the running for god father

maxverstappen1: NO I TAKE IT BACK

yourusername: don't worry maxy, he's joking the bee keeping suit went down VERY WELL

charles_leclerc: he's such a cheat i didn't even know they existed :(

maxverstappen1: you snooze you loose

yourusername: @charles_leclerc i'm craving pasta, i heard it's good in the ferrari hospitality

charles_leclerc: on it 🫡

fernandoalo_oficial: so is no one going to congratulate me?

yourusername: CONGRATS BUB! turns out you ARE great at your day job (and very sexy drenched in champagne)

sebastianvettel: i agree

jensonbutton: i agree

yourusername: once again how did yall make it through the 2010s

user28: i'm trying not to be weird about this but i know their sex life must be crazy

yourusername

liked by jensonbutton, danielricciardo and 1,403,677 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: baby's first f1 weekend and daddy nando did not disappoint (neither did the grid, yall are so generous thank you)

view all comments

user29: i am so unwell this is all so cute i might die

fernandoalo_oficial: i would get any shit box on the podium for you guys

yourusername: NO BRAKES! NO TYRES! OUT OF THE POINTS!

jensonbutton: babe that was over five years ago...

yourusername: ummmm i'm doing my research on your careers? i'd never watched f1 i needed to catch up

sebastianvettel: who showed you this?

yourusername: oscar and lando said they'd give me a quick fire history lesson

fernandoalo_oficial: @oscarpiastri @landonorris i've won 32 races and you show y/n that?

landonorris: funny?

oscarpiastri: we also showed her multi 21, sorry not sorry seb

sebastianvettel: not my four championships?

oscarpiastri: justice for my manager

user30: obsessed with how y/n can watch old races and most of the time one of her bfs win 😭

alexalbon: so great to finally meet you! the albon pets hope it's a girl!

yourusername: don't tell them i told you this but me too

jensonbutton: we can literally all see this?

yourusername: you guys would be such girl dads lets be real

user31: potential girl dad seb, jenson and fernando DO NOT THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME

user32: do NOT let seb name them he's already used all of the good bond girl names

sebastianvettel: i'll have you know kinky kylie is a top tier name

yourusername: for a car. do not suggest any names affiliated with any spy films

sebastianvettel

liked by astonmartinf1, mickschumacher and 1,459,832 others

tagged: yourusername, jensonbutton & fernandoalo_oficial

sebastianvettel: thought i'd have a quiet life after retirement, i thought wrong

view all comments

user33: the BEAR ???

user34: what if i die so i can be reincarnated as the f1 baby

jensonbutton: always arguing over who is the best driver but yet i am always designated driver ... makes you think

sebastianvettel: you're the one who pulls the "i'm the oldest" card ... makes you think

fernandoalo_oficial: only one of us is still racing ... makes you think

yourusername: someone is waiting to go to bed but some people are arguing in the comment section ... makes you think

user35: this kid is going to have the most entertaining childhood ever...

yourusername: @fernandoalo_oficial retire so you can join the crochet club

fernandoalo_oficial: no can do i need to bring home the bacon (and beat lewis)

lewishamilton: why am i catching strays? can i join the crochet club instead of fernando?

yourusername: it's strictly bring your own yarn and real housewives only

lewishamilton: make it beverly hills and i'm there

fernandoalo_oficial: ummmmm ??? @mercedesamgf1 ur driver is retiring you heard it hear first

yourusername: you guys gonna beef over crochet as well?

fernandoalo_oficial: yes.

lewishamilton: yes.

jensonbutton: okay nando you're the only one we're waiting for, we're debating god fathers

fernandoalo_oficial: one sec my pr team called me, turns out you can't make up a rumour that lewis hamilton is retiring, who knew?

maxverstappen1: VOTE FOR ME PLEASE

charles_leclerc: you've won enough this season, let me have this one

mickschumacher: i'll bring breakfast in the morning for three votes at least

yourusername: do NOT try and bribe the jury.

note: PART THREE! okay so it's finally here and i hope it's what you guys were looking for... the race for god father is heating up and the name arguments are only just starting... i am enjoying the pregnancy content but i'm excited for baby time !!!

taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @minkyungseokie @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch @imagandom @mypage-myfandoms @mehrmonga @asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt @multilovebot @lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn @nothingfuninthislife @rileynicol3 @kodzuvk @mochimommy2002 @fluffyspaceprincess @roseseraj @black-swan-blog27 @nyrasslut @justdreamersdream @asfaraslifegets @why4anne @ineffableperson @leilanixx @lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog @rafaaoli @champomiel @sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Thanks as usual for reading.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Things don’t become comfortable, but familiar. You get into a routine, one which smears the days and nights into the other. The landscape helps with that. The sun is fleeting, even in July. The days are longer but it’s not anywhere as stifling or humid as New York. Like everything else, it’s different. 

The man at the fish place, Frederik, knows your name. His wife, Inga too. When you walk in the door, they put your order to fry before you even get to the counter. They’re friendly and warm. It’s nice to have some smiling faces when you can hardly muster the same.  

They like to ask you about New York; they’re finally planning a big trip to America after twenty-five years together. They remind you of Marigold and her bakery. You long for one of her eclairs and her chatty demeanour. Just another thing to miss. 

As you sit down at a table near the window to eat in, your phone goes off. You answer as you read Sam’s name across the screen. He’s the only one you’ve talked to in the last month. Nearly two now. August is close. 

“Yo, yo, girly pop,” he sings from the other end. 

“Girly pop? Sam,” you chide as you hover a thick cut fry before your mouth. 

“Chicky poo, nope. Girly pop, nope. I’ll get there,” he teases, “finally got a hold of you.” 

“Uh, yeah, the site is far. No signal,” you shrug and take a bite. 

“I know, I'm just needy,” he kids. “So, you hitting the spa? Summer’s going fast.” 

“Not yet,” you swallow. “Sam, there’s a lot of work here and it’s just me. The only help I get is from a local student volunteer and they do three hours a week.” 

“Oof, why does your work sound so boring?” He groans 

“Hey!” 

“Well, I mean, digging up dirt all day, tell me you’re not going mad. You making friends? No one to cool, I hope. I’m still your number one guy.” 

“Not really. It’s tough. Long hours. I don’t know,” you stare out the window as you toy with the bamboo fork.  

“If you were going to hide all day in a hovel, you could’ve stayed in New York,” he sighs. 

“Sam, I’m trying. Really. It’s... It’s going to take some time.” 

“Right,” he agrees grimly. “Time. A year is not that long.”  

You hum and lean back in the chair. You’re not as hungry as you were. You close up the container and stand. 

“I know, alright?” You sniff as you tidy the table and grab your food, “but this isn’t a vacation.” 

“It’s also not a missionary trip,” he retorts. “I’m not tryna be a dick here, I’m helping. You need this.” 

You push out into the street and cluck. Silence. You don’t know what to say. He’s right and just like ever day, the conversation is the same. Over and over. It’s going to drive you crazy. 

“More sunlight this time of year, good for work--” 

“No more work talk,” he interjects, “if you don’t got anything fun going on, I'll just have to make you jealous. Some good old fashioned FOMO. Hm, me and Bucky went to Jersey.” 

“Jersey? Why?” You take the bait, happy for the distraction. 

“Oh, yeah, I told him there was a vintage bike for sale there.” 

“You told him that but...” 

“There wasn’t. I just wanted to see him interact with the locals. The old ladies love him but the men... well, I think he might have a warrant out now.” 

“No, Sam, what the hell?” You exclaim as you stroll along. “Are you trying to get him killed?” 

“Hey, I got his back. Just like I got yours. It was just a prank.” 

“Wait, Sam, where exactly did you take him in Jersey?” 

“Some cribbage club, I don’t know. I saw a page for it online. Thought he’d fit in--” 

“They were old?” 

“They match his energy,” he snorts. 

You can’t help but laugh. It feels good. Just that little bit of home. Your amusement is dampened as your heart sinks. You really were so stupid. You didn’t see what you had all around you; Bucky, Sam, more than just Steve. Now it’s all behind you and going back won’t be the same as before. 

💟

There’s tension in the air. It’s going to rain. You suspect your day will be cut short by the gathering clouds but your persist. No use in running. Again. 

The last time you left in fear of a storm, it waited until the next day. So you sit, boots set in the dirty, hunched over as you carefully trace out the strange lump. It’s more than sediment. Bone but not a skeleton. Likely animal and bent into some tool. You have to be delicate. It’s not like the movies, you can’t just dig your hand in and rip it out. 

Your earbud drones as a retro R&B playlist keeps your mind at focus. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove, feeling the flecks of dirt cling to your skin. You ignore it and press on. Just a little more, a little more. 

It’s bigger than you expect. Just as you think it might come free, you find it goes further down. You can make out the jagged break and the hide wrapping at it’s base. A spear of some sort.  

You roll your shoulders out and put your tools down on the open role. You peel of the gloves and reach for the tall insulated bottle of water. You gulp, your throat cooling nicely at the flow. You cap the bottle and clear your throat, listening to the silence of the mountain. 

Yet it isn’t quiet. You glance around at the subtle scratching, a strange tapping across the ground. It could be vermin. It’s not unusual to disturb a nest of one thing or another on a dig but they usually leave early on. 

You put the bottle down and shove your hand back into a glove. A puffy breath comes over the scratching. Several breaths in quick succession, as if there’s something sniff. You keep your other glove in your grip and stand. Your legs are so cramped that your steps are stiff and stunted. 

As you search for the source, there’s a yipe and a fuzzy shape catches your eye. You tilt your head, thoroughly confused at the barking beast. You’re not certain that chihuahuas are native to Norway. At least, you wouldn’t assume so. 

The ashy blond dog has longer fur along its ears and chest and a white bolt down its chest. You can tell it isn’t wild despite its behaviour as it is finely groomed and wears a bright red collar. You approach the fence as it hops, stopping only to try to dig beneath with its dirtied paws. 

“Hi, buddy,” you near the eager dog, “how’d you get up here?” 

You stop just across from the dog and poke your fingers through the fence. It stops, you think a ‘he’, and sniffs your fingers. His cold nose tickles you and you wiggle until you can pet his head. The little thunderbolt emblem on hiss collar peeks through his mane. There might be some information there. 

“Thunder!” The booming voice sounds like the very thing it decries, “Thunder, you pest, where’re you off too?” 

There’s a crunching of soil and rock along the mountain pass as the dog growls and barks again, turning to face the skewing of a towering shadow. You watch in shock at the approach. You didn’t think there was life so far up. That or someone has chosen a rather treacherous hiking trail. 

The dog, you assume ‘Thunder’, bounces back and forth in anticipation of his own, calling to him with his pitchy yaps. The man appears around the jagged rock and you feel the air knocked from your chest. You slowly reach to take out your earbud and tuck it in a pocket.

Wow. You blink to make sure it’s real. To be certain this isn’t some trick of the mind or this ancient land. Maybe the gods are real here. 

He’s tall and broad and handsome. His canvas jacket does little to conceal his muscular build as his jeans are snug to his thick thighs. You think he’s even bigger than Steve. You wince at the reminder of the man but it quickly flits away. You can’t ignore the man before you with his golden tresses twisted back into a low bun, stray strands wisping forward to frame his stony jaw and stormy blue eyes. 

You stand gaping through the fence as the man flinches in fright. His gaze meet yours and his cheeks tinge pink as he gives a crooked grin, “ah, Thunder, my darling, you’ve found a friend.” 

He whistles and the dog lunges forward. He picks up the chihuahua, their size difference almost comical as he cradles him in one arm. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can barely think.  

You snap your mouth shut and clear your throat. Work. That’s what you should be doing. 

“Hello,” the man nears the other side of the fence before you can move away, “I’ve been wondering what this is all about. The signs...” he points with his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh,” you peer around as if lost. You sort of are. “A dig. Er. Grant,” you stammer out. You take a breath and still your mind, “I work with an archeological society in New York. We’ve been sponsored by your national board to exhume this site.” 

“Ah, yes, makes sense,” he lowers his brows thoughtfully as the dog squirms in his hold, yiping and biting at his sleeve. “Forgive me, she is rather uncouth.” He raises the dog higher and she wiggles in his arm. You see it now, definitely a pampered girl. “This is Thunder. She lives up to her namesake, eh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you give a brittle smile, unsure. 

“Thor,” he dips his chin down, “I live just up the pass.” 

“You do?” You wonder curiously. “All the way up here?” 

“Oh yes, if you saw the old haunt, you might just want to dig that up too,” he jokes. “We usually go up the pass, towards the river.” 

“The river?” 

“Yes, you mustn’t stray far from here,” he remarks as he raises a hand to lean on the fence, only to nearly tip the unanchored grating. “Oooh, apologies,” he rights himself with a laugh, “anyhow, it is nice to see a new face around here. Better to have a name for it.” 

“Right, uh,” you offer your name and giggle nervously, “it’s just me on-site, guess I forget my manners.” 

“Not to worry. As the resident mountain man, my etiquette does lack,” he winces as Thunder chomps on his thumb knuckle, “eh, you monster, alright.” He holds her up and she pokes her nose through the fence, “she loves new people. Not so keen on the old.” 

“She's cute,” you scratch her nose and she licks your fingers. “Not exactly a native species.” 

“Who knows where she came from? Found the little dragon in the woods. Suppose someone left her there. She was covered in mud, so small I though she was a bloody toad,” he muses as he brings her back against his chest and rocks her, “it was only her thunderous barks which told me otherwise, isn’t that right, darling?” 

He makes a kissy noise at her and her fluffy tail wags wildly against him. You smile more genuinely. It is nice to have another living thing around after digging up the broken and dead for so long. 

“So you’re from New York?” He asks abruptly, his blue eyes rolling over you like a tide. 

“Yeah,” you utter breathily, “yes, New York.” 

“You’ve been here a while?” 

“Couple months,” you shift and twist your glove. 

“Wonderful, and you’ve done much exploring? You must live in town.” 

“About three hours,” you point towards the gravelly road, “haven’t had much time for sightseeing but I found a good fish shop.” 

“A shop? That’s no good. We catch our own fish, fry ‘em up over the pit,” he says, “that’s the way we do it up here.” 

You nod, “sounds fun. Well, er,” you turn halfway and look around, your eyes skimming up to the cloudy sky, “I should probably hustle. Looks like rain.” 

“That it does but it won’t be ‘til midnight,” he assures. 

“You think it’ll hold out?” 

“I know so,” he affirms and lingers by the fence, trying to see past you, “what exactly are you uncovering over there?” 

“Not much so far,” you pull on your loose glove. 

“You must know what this place was. A raider’s camp.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mm, yes, the raiders would camp upon the pass away from those who might come ashore, then go off themselves to find a coast to reap,” he explains. 

“And how do you know all that?” You ask as you tramp back to your place in the dirt. 

“Suppose some of my ancestors camped here with them,” he offers casually, “for so long as we’ve been up here. Once the viking scamps settled, they had to find a home somewhere. Some fellow named Agmundr or another built a stone house further up.” 

“Admundr? Family?” You prompt. 

“Distant,” he assures, “been some time and that stone house is now a foundation.” 

You get down to your knees as you grab your brush and peek over at him, “thanks for the information. I’ll have to add it to the land report. Have them crosscheck in the archives.” 

“Not at all. You won’t find it all on your paper, you know? We carry or history on our tongues here.” 

“Sure,” you say as you bend over the spearhead and start again. 

“You don’t mind if I watch? I always did love history and I’ve never seen a proper dig before.” 

“Not much going on, I’m afraid,” you shrug, “but if you want.” 

“Thunder will have a tantrum if I go,” he chuckles, “she likes you.” 

“Hm,” you scoff, “she is very outspoken.” 

You set your eyes on your task but can’t shake the awareness of your audience. It’s not too unusual. There were a few digs you did early on in the heart of the city and people loved to ogle you. This is different. Just the two of you. A stranger even. Friendly as he is, you’re happy for the fence, even if it is rather flimsy. 

“Those bones aren’t for you,” he says to the dog as she wriggles in his grasp. “Let’s find a stick then, you little pest.” 

[holyblonded]

·˚ ༘ ━━ always sunny in australia masterlist

fics!

ages 15/16

·˚ ༘ debut

your first debut for the tillies

·˚ ༘ choices

you’re deadline of choosing a club is drawing to a close

·˚ ༘ first day nerves

your first day with your club brings up anxious thoughts

·˚ ༘ reds vs blues

chelsea’s team bonding day at sam’s place, so they millie take the opportunity to trying to get you the chelsea

·˚ ༘ london derby

you and sam go toe to toe and ball out

·˚ ༘ honorary lioness

your injury makes you miss international break, but you treatment is at arsenal so leah volunteers to watch over you while at camp

·˚ ༘ harper day

you babysit harper, a master manipulator, for the day

·˚ ༘ negotiations

your contract is under negotiation, causing unrest on the team

·˚ ༘ strawberry swing

the story of chickie

[wonik1ss]

౨ৎ Stay Until 2 ? — kim minji

001. age changer + written | masterlist

taglist : @technicallyimportantsweets @juhyunsthirdwife @jjkills @kimakento @fluffyji @somedaydream @emphobics @zey1ltn @lovepjohootoa @takpayahtahu @nwjsenthusiast @baewonlove @aeriniee @mygfiswonyoung @heekkicr @jinsoulinator @addorations @ssoursss @klvarchives @yerimbrit @gayforalll @haerinsloverr @slowlydifferentbluebird @yawnzlvr @technicallyimportantsweets @juhyunsthirdwife @kimakento @deersteel @hannibangggg @popasi @rianosis @jkwsel @eternalgayshits @dearyujimin

you took a deep breath before you turned on your stream. after a few minutes the comments started to roll in and your giggled did too. minju being one of them made your smile burn brighter.

“hay bun buns ! today we are going to be doing something a little different.. one of you will get to play fortnite with me..”. as you sighed your rolled your eyes at the comments.

@juju.beat — LET ME JOIN AND WHOP YOUR ASS !

@fan2821 — YAHH

@fan3826 — I miss haerin :(

“your so funny minju !”. you rolled your eyes as you looked to see minju donated 0.33 cents.

@juju.beat — suck it ;D <3

you made a heart to the camera then flipped it off, and more and more comments came.

“if you want to join me just check my newest tweet and put down your Fortnite user and discord so we can chat why’ll we play !”. after posting the tweet for a few minutes you just talked to your fan. while a couple miles away sixteen year old hyein was ecstatic to join her favorite youtuber. hurriedly hyein responded the the tweet her favorite bts playlist playing in the background.

then after a few minutes of geeking out hyein stationed herself at her computer loading Fortnite and discord in her pink pajama’s.

“hyein-ah get to sleep now !”

“yes mom !”. hyein ran to turn of her lights and after a few minutes turned on her leds. meanwhile you finally stopped drowning on about your new cat. opening up twitter for your stream your scrolled and waited a few minutes.

“and…. hye_iup on Fortnite and discord won ! pls accept my friend requests and we will finally start some gameplay !”. hyein eyes half opened jumped. did you actaully say her name?

just to be sure hyein checked and you were requesting to follower her. after some breathing exercises hyein accepted voice and joined your discord call.

“hi.. how are you?”

“42”. you paused. surely your hearing things..

“ok.. do you want to just jump-“

“ofcourse can’t wait to beat you this will be soooo easy”. you sat stunned for a minute before your competitiveness kicked in.

“I’ve been practicing !”. hyein pretend to yawn.

“we’re you practicing that one time haerin snipped you on her first game..”. your chat erupted and your jaw dropped.

“stop trash talking me and join the game!”. hyein giggled and then game began. a few fans snuck there way into your game and tried to help you. mean while hyein was dancing with a chicken.

“you have been quiet for a while.. um..”

“hyein ! and I’m dancing with a chicken ! remind me of my own..”. it took you a second to digest everything the girl had said.

“I’m grinding my ass off and you’re dancing withs chicken?”. for the discord called you heard two shots.

“she pulled a gun on me.. how disrespectful ! chicky would never do that to me..”

“your chickens named.. chicky..”

“Im.. se-twenty I’m not that creative sorry !”. after a few more minutes your both got into a flow. hyein would be doing some thing weird like dancing with the whole avatar crew.

“kinda wish kora was here though-“. you hummed and then heard two guns go off.

“she killed everyone”. you burst out laughing while hyein held a funeral for the gang.

or even meet you face to face but not know because you changed your skin.

“ugh.. idk why people choose bright skins there just asking to be killed..”. hyein went off for a good ten minutes before someone donated to you telling her that was you and she burst out laughing. two hours in hyein was complaining about her work when the game started to come to an end.

“like why did this old as teacher yell at me for not knowing geometry ! like- girl I learned that two years ago calm down”

“so your 17..?”

“totally”. as soon as that word left hyein’s mouth her character evaporated into thin air.

“WHAT THE- omg what !”. you giggled as Hyein went off.

“unfair !”. you could here her pout through the screen so you tried to brighten her mood.

“hay is it ok if I get your number so we can play more..? everyone seems to love your yelling..!”. hyein scoffed, but you were right. you usually had 50-200k people watching but you broke your highest record and had 3million people watching.

“uh— sure give me a sec..”. as you tapped your fingers on your desk hyein ran to her phone on her bed. after texting her bestfriend wonhak thirty times with no response she sighed and went back to her chair.

hyein was a troubled teen. with mostly b’s and some c’s and a f in phys ed. so when she asked for a phone for her sixteenth birthday she got a fat no. but you were y/n y/l/n ! so when hyein got back on the call she gave the only number she knew.

“sorry but I have school tomorrow bye ! can’t wait to beat you later !”. you giggled as after hyein left you ended your stream too. but as hyein brushed her teeth and finally went to sleep at twelve you texted ‘her’ at 12:15. the thing was the only number hyein knew that wasn’t a parents or cousins was minji her favorite cousins bestfriend.

[frost-queen]

hey hi hello im new here and im mc lovin’ it

i will catch up on your work i just need a little time

😆😆😆😆 i'm glad you are mc lovin it sadly there are no chicky nuggets here 🤭

First of all welcome to the Frosties ❄️ fandom where you can be who you are and stay for as long as you like. There is an interest for everyone. As a guide you can use my masterlist (in the bio or underneath almost every fic) to navigate through many fandoms. I have not 1, not 2 but 3 masterlist with various fandoms and lot's and lot's of fanfiction. Take your time as I know it can be a lot.

So sit back, relax and enjoy a world of imagination writen by a humble girl ❤️

[sunsetkerr]

POSITIVE | s.kerr the sweet nora universe, masterlist

summary: after so many negatives, you and sam finally get your two lines [2.9k].

pairing: mum!sam kerr x fem!reader

notes: mentions of ivf, struggling to fall pregnant, swearing

"WHAT DOES IT SAY?"

"it's not showing up yet sam"

"well, what the fuck?" her voice got louder. you sat against one side of the bathroom door, sam on the other. this was your sixth round of reciprocal ivf and you were awaiting the results of the three tests you had just taken. 

"its been like thirty seconds sam" you closed your eyes, trying not to get annoyed with her.

"it says its a one minute test!” she argued. you both sat in silence after that, the nerves of another possible negative test looming over your heads. 

"has it been a minute yet?" she asked, knowing she had counted well over thirty in her head, but you hadn’t said anything yet.

you sighed, leaving your eyes closed. "im scared sam" you said quietly, she could still hear you through the door. 

sam rested her head against the wood, taking a deep breath in. "it's gonna be fine" she told you.

"we say that every time" you reminded her, "what happens if it's negative again?". that question was becoming a familiarity to you both. the heartbreak of one line over and over again had dampened your hopes for two. 

"fingers crossed that its not” she shrugged, trying to stay somewhat positive for you both, mainly for you.  

“and if it is?” you were scared to ask, but knew that it had to be put out there.

“.. and if it is” she sighed, “we try again”.

“how did it go?” katrina asked sam as soon as she walked into the change rooms the next morning. she had been clued in on your entire journey. kat had been planning her own ivf process for 2021, after the olympics. she knew how hard this must be for you. katrina was a total rock for you and sam throughout all your negative tests. she and you had formed an unspoken bond, knowing you both wanted the same thing more than anything in the world. 

“negative” sam sighed, chucking her duffle bag down in front of her locker. 

“im sorry sam” katrina said softly, not wanting to pull too much attention. lots of the girls were already looking sam’s way. majority of the team knew that you and sam were trying to have a baby, that majority knowing how much you were struggling too. 

“its’s alright, we’ll get there” sam sat down on the bench in front of her cubby, resting her elbows on her legs. “y/n is taking it pretty hard though. she’s really upset about it” sam rubbed her hands over her face. mackenzie and alanna shooting her sorry looks from across the room. 

“i can imagine, poor chicky” kat sat down next to sam, putting an arm around her. if the team didn’t know your latest round was unsuccessful, they did now. your first round the team waited with anticipation for sam to come into training with the good news, but instead were met with a solemn headshake and a silent sam for majority of the day. now they knew when she was having a hard time with it, they could all tell. it just sat in her body.

“but how are you?” sam sighed as she looked up at kat.

“i don’t even know to be honest,” she shrugged. 

“sammy” katrina sighed, knowing she was really struggling.

“i just feel so bad” sam sniffed, trying not to cry in front of her team. “like if i could carry the baby i would, but-“ sam cut herself off, wiping her eyes quickly.

“it’s not practical for you” katrina was lucky. her pregnancy was something she wanted for herself, she knows not every woman wants to, or has the capacity to, carry a child- sam being one of those people. she had too much on, too much pressure weighing on her shoulders. “y/n knows that, she would never ask that of you” katrina whispered, rubbing sam’s thigh trying to comfort her captain.

“she’s been so good about it, i can’t even explain how understanding she was” sam leant back, pushing her weight against the back of her cubby. “she’s made this massive sacrifice for us and i feel like i can’t even help her” she hadn’t been able to get this off her chest for weeks now. it felt refreshing having someone to talk to. someone who wasn’t you, because sam knew you would just take it on too. she couldn’t do that to you when you were already struggling so much.

katrina sighed, “you just have to be there for her, you know?”.

“i’m trying” sam nodded, “it’s really messing with her”.

“it would be hard” 

“im distraught every time i look at another negative test” she scoffed, “i can’t even imagine how hard it would be for her”.

“she’s a strong girl, sam” kat offered her a small smile. “maybe she could talk to tameka about it? i know kirsty and her have had a few negative rounds,” she offered, “they might be able to help each other”

“yeah, you’re right” sam nodded, letting out a sigh, “i’m just so worried about her”.

“i wanna talk to you about something”

“that doesn’t sound good” sam looked up from her phone. you had walked into the living room and sat across from sam on the ottoman. you had a defeated look on your face, sam knew this look.

“i think-“ you sighed, “i think after this round we stop for a while”.

it was a big call to make. but you weren’t sure you could keep going after this round, not before taking some time anyway. it was getting too hard on you. you couldn’t do the one thing you were supposed to do. you felt like a failure. you needed to breathe before you could face that kind of disappointment again.

“i-if it doesn’t work?” sam asked. you had just had another embryo transfer completed last week before flying out to chicago for sam to begin training for her next game with the stars. you had been flying back and forth for your appointments in fremantle, finally just landing back in chicago a few days ago.

“if it doesn’t work” you nodded.

sam turned her body to face you, grabbing your hands in hers. “are you sure?” she asked.

“i just, i think we should take a break” you wearily met sam’s gaze, “for little while”

there were a few moments of silence before sam spoke again, “okay”.

“you’re okay with that?” you asked her, raising your eyebrows at her.

“i’m okay with whatever you wanna do” sam offered you a smile, holding onto your hand tightly. 

“you’re not gonna be mad?” you ask, a little nagging voice at the back of your head getting louder and louder.

“babe, as long as you’re okay i’m happy” sam brought you into her arms, leaning back against the couch as she cradled your head in her arms. “we can try again whenever, we can adopt- there are so many ways to have our baby” she kissed your forehead, whispering against your skin, “it’s gonna be okay”.

“i’m sorry i can’t do it sam” you voice wavered as you whispered to her. 

“you’re so stupid” she chuckled softly, trying not to cry. “c’mere” she pulled the rest of your body into her lap so she could hold you closer.

“i’m so sorry” you whispered again.

“shh, i love you” sam closed her eyes as she held you, grateful for having you, baby or no baby.

“i love you too”

“you’re gonna be the best mum when the time comes” she shook her head in disbelief, “it’ll come”.

“and if it doesn’t?”

“we’re not thinking like that” she ignored your anxious thoughts.

“okay miss positivity” you chuckled. sam smiled hearing you laugh again for the first time all day. 

“i’m holding up the fort” she shrugged.

“mm, something like that” you smirked.

“do you want me to make pasta for dinner tonight?” you held your phone to your shoulder as you shuffled through your kitchen pantry for food that you could use to rustle sam and you up for dinner tonight.

“please? can we do bolognaise?” she asked. sam had left early for training this morning, leaving you with the morning to laze around before making her breakfast for when she gets back home.

“yeah sure, i have to go to the shops but-“ you phone buzzed against your ear, another call coming in. “-one sec, sam. i’m getting another call, i’ll text you okay?”.

“yeah, i love you”

“i love you more” you hung up on sam, quickly answering the other call before it rang out. “hello?” you asked.

“hi is this y/n l/n?” you knew who was on the phone. you mustn’t have registered the australian number coming through, but you recognised the receptionists voice instantly.

“that’s me,” you sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“it’s rebecca from the fremantle fertility clinic, how are you today?” she asked, no doubt with the same warm smile she always greeted you with whenever you went in for your treatments.

“fine, thanks”

“i’m just getting in contact with you to see the results of your embryo transfer. dr kim has been counting down the days till your two weeks was up, she asked me to call before the day was up” she chuckled on the other end of the phone. dr kim had been your doctor throughout your entire ivf journey, she was kind and compassionate and always made you feel better whenever you had to come back with the result that neither of you wanted.

“that’s nice of her,” you smiled softly, thinking about your doctor and how happy she always was to see you and sam. “i uh- i haven’t actually taken a test yet, i’ve just flown back to chicago and been really busy. i haven’t thought about it” you lied. you hadn’t had any symptoms, so you just brushed it off. you weren’t ready to face another negative test just yet.

“oh, okay” she sounded a little taken aback, probably not used to mothers not taking tests the first chance they get. “well, once you find the time, make sure to call up and let us know the results, so dr kim can discuss your next steps together. good luck!” she cheered on the other end of the phone.

“thanks so much,” you smiled, “have a good one”

“you too!”

“smells good!” sam said when she walked through the front door to your apartment later that morning. she had her training kit on and her duffle bag in hand, she dropped in by the door heading straight for you. 

“better than it would if you were in here,” you joked, letting her kiss you on the cheek as you flipped over her egg.

“rude” 

“how was prac?” you asked, looking at her toast that just popped.

“fine, nothing special” she grabbed it out and started buttering it, “how was your day?”.

“same, really” you shrugged, “give me five minutes and this will be done for you”.

“this is mine? you’re good to me” she smiled putting the toast down, smitten at the idea of you making breakfast for her to come back to. 

“sometimes” you chuckled. sam came up behind you and wrapped her arms tight around your chest, squeezing you close to her.

“ah” you hissed, pushing her off of you.

“what’s happened?” sam asked quickly, looking over you.

“my boobs are sore, just squeezed me hard” you put a hand on your chest, chuckling. you stopped when you saw sam’s eyes widened.

“y/n,” she said slowly. it took you a second to see what she was getting at, but it hit you fast and all at once.

“oh my god” you dropped the spatula on the kitchen floor.

“holy shit” sam whispered, ignoring the utensil on the floor she grabbed your hands instead.

“do you think-“ you said slowly.

“fuck, let’s go” she pulled you towards your bathroom.

“where are they?” sam shuffled through the cupboards in your ensuite, looking for the boxes of pregnancy tests she knew would be lying around somewhere.

“second drawer” you told her, bouncing up and down nervously.

“why do we own so much shit?” sam panicked as she pushed random things out of the way as she searched for them.

“here,” you moved sam away and looked yourself, pulling a test from the box at the back of the drawer; the last one. “okay” you sighed, taking the plastic test out of the wrapping.

“fuck,” sam sighed nervously, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub across from you. 

you quickly pulled down your shorts and sat on the toilet. “stop looking at me” you said to sam embarrassed.

“i’ve literally seen you naked thousands of times” she argued.

“and i literally don’t care, i get pee-shy. now close your eyes” you swatted at her. she laughed, pushing away your hands.

“whatever,” she smile.

“shut the fuck up” you whispered, “i can’t pee”.

“yes you can” she argued, her eyes now closed.

“sam i actually can’t” you said as you held the test in the bowl.

“fuck me” sam sighed, rushing out of the bathroom. she came back in with her drink bottle and passed it into your free hand, “here, chug it”.

“thanks” you whispered. popping the top of her water bottle and taking a big swig, and then another.

“now push” she said.

“that’s not how peeing works” you snapped at her, on the verge of becoming a nervous wreck.

“that’s exactly how it works, now can you pee?” she asked. you tried it, you felt stupid but you tried.

“yes shh,” you put one of her hands up to her face to cover her eyes again.

“did you push?” she smirked knowingly.

“sam, shut up” 

“i told you it works”

“shh!” you put the cap back on the test and rested it on on the bathroom counter. 

“how long do these ones take?” sam bounced her knee. you flushed the toilet and washed your hands, trying your best not to freak out and flip it over already.

“they’re three minute ones” you told her.

“what happened to the quick ones?” she asked, almost insulted that this test, quite possibily the most important one, would take longer than the other ones you had.

“we used them all last transfer cycle” you told her, now leaning both of your hands on the bench, looking down at the up-turned pregnancy test.

“do they come up with lines or crosses?” she looked over the box, trying to find a picture or a diagram.. or something that would help her panic less.

“these ones are lines” you told her.

“two lines, come on” she held up her fist, cheering “lets go”. sam wanted this more than anything. if it didn’t work, so be it. but if it did, she didn’t know what she was going to do.

“it’s not football sam” you looked back at her.

“this is more exciting than any football game” sam finally stood up and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“okay,” you whispered. sam could see how many thoughts were racing through your head.

“do you have any other symptoms?” she tried to distract you for the time being.

“i had some spotting the other day, but i just thought it was nothing because i’ve had it before, and the tests been negative” you admitted.

sam couldn't help herself, “fuck, we’re gonna have a baby”.

“sam don’t say that, we don’t know yet” you didn’t want to jinx it.

“three minutes” she whispered.

“three minutes and then you can say whatever you want, okay?”

“okay” sam nodded, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“fuck” you sighed, “what if it’s negative again?”

“that’s okay too,” sam rested her chin on your shoulder as you looked in the mirror at each other.

“i love you sam” you told her, the familiar feeling of fear coming back to haunt you.

“i love you so much more” she smiled at you softly, “i promise”.

“has that been three minutes?” you asked, almost getting as impatient as her.

“surely” she said, knowing it definitely hadn’t been. she just couldn’t help herself.

“do you want me to look or you to look?” you looked at her, both of you standing over the test, holding hands. 

“lets just flip it and look together” she nodded.

“okay” you whispered.

“you’ve got this” sam grabbed hold of you and shook you a little, “come on!”.

you took a breath and flipped over the test for you and sam to see. your heart dropped. 

two pink lines.

“oh my fucking god” you whispered.

“oh my god!” sam shouted.

“we’re having a baby,” you looked up at her in shock.

“we’re having a fucking baby!” she screamed, picking you up in her arms.

“oh my god!” you laughed, a smile breaking out onto your face. nothing had been sweeter in life than this moment.

“i love you so much” you looked down at her, holding her face in your hands. you wrapped your legs around her waist as she held you close and tight.

“i can’t believe it,” she cheered, tears in her eyes.

“oh my god, it actually worked” you choked out a sob.

sam put you back down on the ground, still holding you close. “it worked!” she smiled.

“we’re having a baby, sammy” you whispered.

“we’re having a baby,” she nodded, a tear falling from her eye. “i love you so much, y/n” she whispered back to you.

“i love you so much more” 

“and i love you too” sam looked down towards your belly, “so so much”.

you relished in the moment, letting sam hold you for as long as she wanted; your smoke alarm going off ruining your moment.

“fuck i left the stove on!”

[chickentendieboi]

Chicky | 25 | She/Her

Masterlist | Collabs | Kins | Fandoms/Characters

Chicky's Tag List : form link to fill out so you can get tagged in things you'd like to be tagged in!

Networks: Mod for Hayana Network

☪Welcome to Chicky's Corner! Just an aspiring writer who loves to write for a huge range of characters in manga and anime! Just your resident Tendou/Matsukawa simp so feel free to tag me in anything and everything involving them!

Latest Works:

☪ Lingerie || Iwaizumi Hajime (nsfw)

WIP:

☪ demon!Matsukawa (nsfw)

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[waitimcomingtoo]

Toothpaste

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

requested by @anabish12 : Peter tries to get you to stop avoiding him after he overhears you telling Morgan about your crush on him

Masterlist

“Did someone just knock at the door?” MJ asked as she took the bowl of popcorn from in front of you.

“It’s probably just Peter trying to spy on our sleepover.” Kate said as she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“Leave him alone. He wouldn’t do that.” You rolled your eyes as you defended Peter.

“He literally did it at our last sleepover.” MJ reminded you.

“Yeah.” Kate nodded. “Remember he felt left out so we let him take one of our birth control pills?”

“How could I forget?” You sighed. “He ate all the chocolate and cried when that pillow brushed his nipple.”

“And that was just from a placebo pill.” MJ snorted before another knock came from outside the door.

“I think that’s my sister.” You said before turning to the door. “Who is it?”

“Morgan.” Morgan replied as she opened the door a little. “Can I come play with you guys?”

“Get in here, girl.” MJ said as she waved Morgan into the room. Morgan smiled in excitement ran to sit in your lap.

“You can hang out a little bit. But then it’s off to bed, chickie. It’s already past your bed time.” You reminded her as you brushed her hair off her face.

“But I wanna stay up with you guys.” She whined.

“No you don’t.” Kate insisted. “We’re gonna be talking about boring adult stuff.”

“What adult stuff?” Morgan wondered.

“Like school and work and training.” You listed off a few things.

“And the declining state of our nation’s sense of community due to a lack of an authority figure we can agree on without giving rude nicknames to.” MJ said in the same casual tone.

“And boys. Yuck!” You pretended to gag as you ticked Morgan’s stomach.

“Boys?” Morgan asked as she laughed.

“Yeah, boys. Do you like anyone at school? Any crushes I should know about?”

“No.” Morgan said as her cheeks turned red.

“I know that face.” You gasped. “Yes you do. Tell me who.”

“No.” Morgan giggled as you continued to tickle her.”

“I work stop until you tell me.” You told her.

“Stop it.” Morgan laughed. “That tickles.”

“You better confess, little miss.” You playfully warned her.

“Okay. I’ll tell you.” Morgan said. “I like this boy named James.”

“James!” You, MJ, and Kate squealed in unison.

“What do you like about him?” Kate asked.

“He gave me his cookie at snack time when I dropped mine.” Morgan said bashfully.

“Aw. What a gentleman.” You pouted. “I love him already.”

“He did not!” Kate gasped as she played along.

“I also have a crush on the American Girl doll of the year.” Morgan continued. “Her name is Betty and she plays softball.”

“Of course it’s softball.” MJ chuckled.

“A second crush.” Kate looked impressed. “I see James has some competition.”

“I’m not surprised you have people competing for you when you’re this beautiful.” You told Morgan as you played with her hair.

“And the smartest girl in kindergarten.” MJ added and she tickled Morgan as well.

When Peter passed by your room, he heard the loud giggling from inside. He knew it was past Morgan’s bedtime, so he curiously leaned his ear against the door to see what was happening.

“Who do you guys like?” Morgan wondered.

“I don’t have any crushes.” MJ said. “My girlfriend and I have been together a lovely three weeks.”

“In lesbian time, that means they’re already living together and signing a prenup.” You whispered to Kate.

“Shut up.” MJ playfully shoved you. “Do you like anyone Kate?”

“Who me? What? Me?” Kate sputtered. “No. Never. I don’t - I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you so do.” MJ realized. “Who is it?”

“Fine.” Kate sighed. “I think Clint is kinda hot.”

“Clint?” Your entire face scrunched in disgust.

“Wait. I’m gonna puke.” MJ said as she clutched her stomach.

“I’m kidding.” Kate shoved you both. “I can’t believe you guys believed me. He’s like 80 years old.”

“Then who do you like?” MJ asked, making Peter press his ear harder against the door. He realized it was pointless since he had advanced hearing, but he felt like he was in a movie, so he didn’t stop.

“I think Ned is kinda cute.” Kate sheepishly admitted.

“Aw. Then you and Y/n can double date.” MJ smiled as she pointed to you. Peter furrowed his eyebrows when he heard this and wondered what MJ meant.

“MJ.” You whispered harshly.

“What?” MJ asked. “Everyone already knows you like him.”

“He doesn’t know. And he’s home so keep your voice down.” You said quietly as you nodded towards the door. Peter couldn’t see you, but he was beginning to put the pieces together.

“Who are you talking about?” Morgan asked.

“Nobody.” You replied.

“I wanna know. Please?” She asked as she stuck out her bottom lip.

“Aw.” MJ cooed. “Who could say no to that face?”

“Me.” You said flatly. “No.”

Morgan continued to give you her saddest little girl eyes, but you weren’t gonna budge.

“Don’t give me that look.” You told her. “It doesn’t work on me.”

“Please?” Morgan asked softly as she clasped her hands under her chin.

“I mean it. I’m not dad.” You reminded her. “You can’t use the puppy dog eyes to get what you want from me.”

Morgan let out a little whimper as she slowly blinked at you, and that’s when you broke.

“Fine.” You sighed. “I’ll tell you. Just stop looking at me like that.”

“Yay! Who do you like?” Morgan asked again.

“I may or may not have a tiny crush on Peter.” You said as you pinched your fingers together. Peter let out a tiny gasp and quickly leaned in again.

“Well that was the understatement of the century.” MJ mumbled.

“Whats an under say mint?” Morgan asked.

“It means Y/n is in love with Peter.” Kate explained, which made Peter choke on his saliva.

“Katherine Bishop.” You whispered harshly and motioned for her to shut her mouth.

“Ew.” Morgan scrunched her nose. “You like Peter?”

“Peter is not “ew.” You’re “ew”. Peter is perfect.” You gushed, which caused Peter’s breath to hitch in his throat.

“But I thought Peter was your friend.” Morgan frowned.

“He is. I think everyone falls in love with their best friend at least once in their life. It’ll probably happen to you one day.”

“Yuck.” Morgan squirmed.

“My thoughts exactly.” MJ mumbled.

“Are you gonna marry Peter?” Morgan asked you.

“Probably not. Peter and I are too young to be married.” You laughed. “But if he liked me back, we would be dating.”

“Does he like you back?”

“No.” You smiled sadly. “He doesn’t.”

“What!?” Peter thought to himself. “Yes I do.”

“Oh come on.” MJ looked at you knowingly.

“What? Peter doesn’t like me like that.”

“You’re right.” Kate nodded. “Except that he totally does.”

“Tell her Kate.” Peter nodded eagerly.

“He does not.” You insisted.

“Yes he does.” Peter whispered from the other side of the door.

“Kate, he obviously doesn’t like her back.” MJ said sarcastically. “That’s why he walks her to class, carries her books, walks her home, makes her dinner, and oh wait. Never mind. He is totally in love with her.”

“Does he share his juice box with you?” Morgan asked you.

“I wish.” You mumbled.

“Ew.” MJ grimaced.

“Guys, stop. Peter doesn’t like me back and I’m totally fine with that. I’d rather have him as my friend for the rest of my life than my boyfriend for a few months.”

“Don’t you at least want to ask if I like you back?” Peter thought to himself.

“Don’t you want to at least ask him if he likes you back?” Kate asked you. “That’s the only way to know for sure.”

“He doesn’t.” You said definitively. “He would’ve said something by now.”

“Maybe you should just tell him.” MJ shrugged. “Get it off you chest.”

“I can’t.” You shook your head. “It’ll change the friendship. He’ll never treat me the same.”

“Because I’d treat you like my girlfriend.” Peter whined in exasperation.

“That could be a good thing.” Kate told you. “He could start treating you like his girlfriend.”

“I doubt it. We’ll talk about this later. I gotta get this one to bed.” You said as you scooped up Morgan, who had fallen asleep in your arms at some point in the conversation.”

“Mm not tired.” She mumbled as she rubbed her eyes.

“I believe you. Let’s talk about it some more in your room.” You spoke softly as you carried her out of the room. Peter quickly stepped away from the door when he heard your footsteps and stood awkwardly in the hallway.

“Hey.” He smiled weakly when you came out of your room.

“Peter.” You jumped in surprised. “Hi. I thought you were downstairs.”

“I was.” He nodded. “Then I came upstairs.”

“Right. Did you happen to hear anything we were talking about?” You asked as you eyed him skeptically.

“No.” He lied, eyes darting from side to side.

“Oh my God.” You gasped. “You so did.”

“No I didn’t.” He lied again as his entire face turned red.

“When why can’t you look me in the eye?” You questioned him.

“Because I have social anxiety and find it easier to speak to people when I am looking elsewhere.” Peter replied while staring at the ceiling.

“You’re lying. You blink a lot when you lie. It’s your tell.”

“No it’s not.” He scoffed while rapidly blinking. “Have you ever seen Law and Order? We should watch all 20 seasons sometime. How about right now?”

“You also try to change the subject when you lie.” You recalled. “You deflect and avoid the subject.”

“No I don’t. Did you do something new with your hair?”

“Peter.” You said warningly.

“Fine.” He sighed. “I heard you talking to Morgan.”

“Oh no.” Your eyes widened as you took a step back from him. Morgan started to wake up a little so you gently bounced her in your arms.

“Did you mean it?” Peter whispered. “Do you like me?”

“No.” You replied, blinking a few times too many.

“I know when you’re lying.” Peter reminded you. “Can we please talk?”

“Now that you mention it, why don’t we watch all 20 seasons of Law and Order? That sounds great right now. Let me go put Morgan to bed.” You tried to walk away, but Peter gently caught your arm.

“Wait.” He said softly. “I really think we should talk about this. Do you actually like me? Like, in that way?”

In the dim lighting of the hallway, you stared into Peter’s hopeful eyes with a brewing fear. He already knew too much so there was no point in lying to him now. You gave your best friend a sad smile, knowing your friendship was about to change forever.

“Yeah.” You admitted. “I do. I like you.”

“Oh.” Peter blinked in surprise. “Wow. Um, I don’t-“

“You don’t have to say anything.” You cut him off. “In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t. I don’t want to hear you say you don’t feel like same. Not right not.”

“Right. I totally understand that. But there’s something you should know. I don’t-“

“I know. I know you don’t.” You smiled sadly. “But I do. So please, don’t say anything.”

“That’s not what I was gonna say.” He assured you. “Just listen. I don’t…I don’t know- I can’t really explain how-“

“Y/n? Am I in bed?” Morgan cut him off this time as she slowly woke up.

“No, honey.” You said softly as you bounced her. “We were just about to go to bed. Close your eyes.”

“Y/n.” Peter pleaded with you not to leave again. You looked at him for a long time before looking back down at Morgan.

“Goodnight, Peter.” You whispered as you looked at him with sad eyes.

“I don’t know how to tell you how long I’ve been waiting to hear that.” He finally said what he’d been trying to say, but you were already gone.

The next day, Peter impatiently waited for you in the kitchen so you could continue your conversation from the night before. When you finally entered the kitchen, Peter jumped out his seat and went up to you.

“Hey.” He said, making you jump a little.

“Gotta go.” You gave him a tight smile and quickly left the kitchen. Peter frowned at your reaction to him but eventually brushed it off, deciding to try again at school.

Peter saw you again when he got to campus. You were talking to Ned, which gave Peter hope that things had gone back to normal.

“Hey guys.” He said as joined the circle. “Y/n, can we talk?”

“Can’t. Gotta get to class.” You said before immediately walking away. Peter let out a disappointed sigh as he watched you leave.

“That was weird.” Ned noted. “Is she okay?”

“She’s okay. I think she needs some space from me.” Peter told him.

“Why? Did something happen between you guys?”

“Yeah, she told me-“

Peter cut himself off before he told Ned your secret. He wasn’t supposed to know himself, so he knew he couldn’t tell other people.

“I saw her naked.” Peter lied. “I accidentally walked in on her in the shower and now it’s super awkward between us.”

“Don’t worry about it, dude.” Ned shrugged. “She’ll get over it. Just give her some space for the day. She’s probably just embarrassed.”

“You’re right.” Peter nodded. “I’ll leave her alone for a bit.”

Peter gave you your space for the rest of the day. He made sure to avoid you around the tower, assuming you just needed 24 hours for the awkwardness to dissolve. The next morning, he found you in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal.

“Good morning.” He greeted.

“Bye.” You dropped your spoon and left the room.

“What?” He whined. “Still?”

Peter was hellbent on talking to you now, even if it was just to yell at you for leaving your dirty cereal bowl out. He spotted you in the hallway and went up to you before you could run away.

“Y/n.” Peter said as he came up behind you.

“Ah.” You jumped. “You scared me.”

“Can we talk?” He pleaded. “Please?”

“Nows not a good time.” You lied as you walked away from him.

“You have to talk to me eventually!” He called after you.

“No I don’t!” You called back. Peter let out a sigh of frustration as you disappeared down the hallway. He was so excited to find out you reciprocated his feelings, but you would never know that since you refused to talk to him.

The next day, Peter was determined to get you to speak to him. He was not going to be deterred, no matter how icy you were towards him.

“Hey.” Peter came up to you after class.

“I have to go.” You told him as you turned to leave.

“Come on!” He whined. “It’s been days. Please talk to me.”

“I can’t talk to you. I have class.” You lied as you pointed to the closest classroom.

“You’re in Intro to Men’s Studies?” Peter raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” You said quickly. “No. How do you even know what class they teach here?”

“There’s a poster of Lena Dunham pinned to a dartboard on the wall.” He pointed out. You looked at the poster and rolled your eyes.

“Fine. I’m not in the class.” You admitted. “But I do have a class in an hour. And my anxiety makes me leave way too early incase in the event I get held up somewhere, so I have to go.”

“We need to talk about this!” Peter yelled down the hallway as you ran away from him.

“No we don’t!”

“Please?” He yelled again. Once you were gone, he sighed sadly and looked at the floor.

“I miss you.” He mumbled to himself. His pity party quickly ended when he got a second wind of strength. He ran after you and caught up to you in the hallway.

“Where are you headed?” He asked innocently.

“Nowhere.” You replied as you picked up the pace.

“Sounds fun. Mind if I join you?” Peter asked as he wrapped an arm tightly around you.

“What are you doing?” You whispered harshly as people looked at the two of you.

“You’re avoiding me.” He said out of the corner of his mouth. “And I’m not gonna let you do that anymore.”

“I’m not avoiding you.” You lied as you tried to break out of his arm.

“Yes you are.” He insisted. “And I really need to talk to you about the other night.”

“The other night?” You gulped.

“Yeah. You know, when you told me that you-“

“Bye.” You dipped out of his arms and took of running down the hallway.

“What? Get back here!” Peter shouted as he chased you down.

“Stop following me.” You called behind you as ran away from him. You jumped over a banister and Peter did the same as he continued to follow you.

“Juts talk to me.” He pleaded. “Then I won’t have to keep hunting you down.”

“No.” You said as you made a quick left. Peter decided he had had enough and stopped running. He shot a web at you and yanked you back towards him, catching you as you collided into his body.

“We need to talk.” He panted as you both caught your breath.

“I don’t want to talk to you, okay Peter? I have nothing to say.” You whined as you pushed him off of you.

“Why not?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you? I’m embarrassed, okay?” You admitted. “You know I like you and you don’t feel the same. That’s a lot of feelings to process. I needed time away from you to deal with everything. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Because I miss you. I miss my best friend.” Peter sighed. “We used to talk every day. You used to tell me every thing.”

“I know. But look what happens when I tell you too much.” You said sadly.

“It doesn’t have to be awkward between us.” Peter assured you. “I can just pretend it never happened.”

“Pretend it never happened?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Uh oh.” Peter gulped. “You’re mad. I said something wrong, didn’t I?”

“I was secretly harboring feelings for you for months, Peter. And you found out before I was ready to tell you. You saying you can pretend it never happened makes me feel like it doesn’t effect you at all. And that really sucks because it seriously effects me.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter frowned. “I didn’t think about it like that. I swear, it effects me too.”

“Not the way it effects me.” You shook your head as you turned to walk away.

“You don’t know that for a fact.” Peter reminded you. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to talk to you about all week. I have a lot of things I need to say. Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Because I squirt.” You blurted as you whipped back around. Several people turned to look at you following your outburst as Peter’s eyes widened.

“For real?” He gasped, then cleared his throat. “I mean, what?”

“I squirt. I squirt all the metaphorical toothpaste out of the metaphorical tube.” You whined as you walked back over to him.

“Can you metaphorically dumb that down for me?”

“Once you squirt toothpaste out of the tube, it can never go back in. It’s out forever.” You explained. “It’s the same thing with my secret. You know I like you and now you can’t un-know it.”

“It’s okay that I know.” He assured you. “You don’t have to run away from me.”

“Yes I do.”

“Why?” He frowned. “Why won’t you just talk to me?”

“Because everything is different now.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Nothing has to change between us.” He said as he rubbed your arms to comfort you.

“Think about it, Peter. How are we supposed to go back to the way things were?” You asked him. “You know that I like you. And you know that I read into things you say and do. Do you honestly think you can act normally around me now?”

“Maybe I don’t want things to go back to normal.” He shrugged. “Maybe I want things to change between us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever stopped to think about how I feel about you?” Peter folded his arms. “Or have you been too busy running away from me?”

“If you liked me you would have told me by now.” You said simply.

“Oh, like how you told me?” Peter asked sarcastically. “I had to hear it from Morgan. She can’t even read.”

“She can sound things out.” You defended your sister. “And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want this to effect our friendship. Which it clearly has.”

“It’s only effected our friendship because you insist on running away from me and putting up walls between us. Need I remind you, walls cannot stop me. I’m literally called the wall crawling superhero.” He whispered harshly.

“Wasn’t it wall crawling menace?” You tilted your head.

“Semantics.” Peter waved his hand. “My point is, you’re the only one of us who’s been acting different.”

“Because the toothpaste-“

“Is out of the tube. I know.” He cut you off. “But I’m glad it’s out. Because I was gonna squirt any day now.”

“You were?” You smiled hopefully. “And can we please drop the squirting metaphor? I hear it now. It was a mistake.”

“I like you too, okay? I’ve always liked you.” Peter admitted. “I was trying to tell you that when I overheard you and Morgan but you wouldn’t let me get a word out.”

“Oh. My bad.”

“Yeah.” He smiled softly. “You actually never let me get a word out. That’s one of the things I like about you.”

“What else do you like?” You asked coyly as you took a step forward.

“I like how sweet you are with your sister.” He began. “I like how you never make a joke at the expense of someone else. And I like how you use silly, slightly inappropriate metaphors to describe your feelings.”

“Metaphors are tough. They can start off simple enough but then get harder and harder until they erupt all over your face in white hot streams of-“

“Do you hear yourself?” Peter cut you off. “I’m asking because I really don’t think you do.”

“Okay. We’ll drop the metaphors.” You waved your hand. “Do you really mean what you said? You’ve always like me?”

“Of course I have.” Peter told you. “I just didn’t know how to tell you because I didn’t know how you felt about me.”

“Well now you do know how I feel about you.” You reminded him. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I’m gonna…” He trailed off as he tried to think of his next words.

“Stop trying to think of a metaphor.” You laughed when you realized what he was doing.

“I’m sorry.” He laughed as well. “It just feels like me responding with a metaphor is a natural conclusion to our story.”

“How about you make kissing me the natural conclusion to our story?” You smirked as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I think that sounds even better.” He smiled before connecting his lips to yours.

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @lavender-writer @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

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[fic-heaven]

Apple pie flavoured.

[Gus x reader] (NSFW! Drabble)🐻

Call of duty Modern Warfare 2

Masterlist

Part 2.

Chickie 🐥: I literally didn't have the strength to edit this. Please don't be an ass my English isn't good, I'm not even good with my own language LMAO. Also idk why I did this, i guess I was just very horny.

WE NEED MORE GUS CONTENT 🐻🧸🇨🇷

Characters: Soap, Price, Gus and random background characters.

Tags: strangers to cuddle buddies(?), slight hair pulling, gagging, rough sex, quickie, semi public, slight size kink, no lube but it turned out surprisingly okay, on fours, riding, not fully stripping, no protection, brief aftercare, Gus being a dork.

Reach the end of the drabble for more notes:

.

.

"He's staring again," Soap whispered.

You looked to the right side of the other table. Your hungry comrades were stuffing their guts with apple pie, a special treat from Price after a mission well done. Right amongst them a soldier with a black beret was facing down his plate, he didn't even touch his portion but was holding his fork firmly, his eyes were fixed on you.

He looked at you like you were prey and that slightly amused you since you were part of the 141 and every other soldier would not dare hold such an intense stare... But there was something else... Something hidden in those brown eyes, you held his stare as you chugged your water bottle. He finally picked a piece of his meal and put it in his mouth slowly chewing on it, savouring the tasty treat and later make a show of licking his lower lip sensually just for you.

Oh god...

You squeezed your thighs together under the table, he seemed to notice because one side of his moustache lifted into an amused crocked smile. Soon a fellow soldier snapped him out of the trance initiating conversation.

You bit down a smile of your own and Soap gawked at the whole interaction.

"What the hell was that, lass?" You ignored him "You wouldn't-" "I would. I will..." You interrupted him. The Scott chuckled and shook his head "Damn (y/n), who knew you'd have a freaky side?"

Regret clouded your head, you wanted to slap yourself for opening up a little too much to Soap about your sexual life hours prior, specially about mentioning how needy you have been feeling lately... You said it was just hormones but he made a point saying that basically living inside a base filled with men, most of them bloody attractive, didn't help at all. Shut up John...

You shoved a piece of pie to his mouth and followed his chuckle with one of your own "To your information, i am as capable of rizzing anyone as any of you lot~" As soon as you said that your eyes waltzed to the eye candy of a man from the other table, he was returning the stare a millisecond later like he already knew you'd look.

He seemed a little more determined to make a move this time. You gave him a little nod, he returned it, lifted a brow and tilted his head to the side pointing at the exit on the hall. Right to the point, huh?

Message received.

You wiped your mouth and dropped the napkin to your plate abruptly standing up and carrying it to the trashcan. Soap snorted and the others' questions to where you were going or quick goodbyes were ignored completely, your attention fully focused on the now grinning Puerto Rican guy whose eyes never left your form as you moved through the room.

You could already feel your arousal at the feeling of anticipation for what's to come.

The door of the cafeteria closed as you walked through the hall but you heard it reopen just when you reached the ladies bathroom's door. You smirked.

Walking in, you were facing the wall, the door casually opened and closed behind and seconds later it opened and closed once more.

You turned around, the smirk in your face never fading, and saw the tanned man staring down at you seemingly casual about the whole thing, his face expression looked relaxed but a focused gaze on you failed to hide his giddiness. His arms stayed behind his back, palms pressed against the closed door as to remark there was no scape.

My, my~

God you didn't even know his name, how exciting! You felt like a horny teenager again.

When he took a step closer eyes filled with desire, you stomped towards him. He seemed a little startled at the sudden movement but smiled and tilted his head downwards when you were inches away, noses and foreheads pressed against each other. He drowned in your eyes and you did the same.

How curious... His eyes looked like a dark brown a second ago, but now from this distance you could see the honey color in them, like liquid gold. It made a gorgeous contrast with his brown skin, you felt like staring at them forever.

His hands went to your waist breaking the spell and you moved yours to cup his cheeks, his stubble tickled your palms, your breaths mixed... What was on his mind right now? What was on YOURS? You licked your lips.

Hunger.

You didn't even finish the bloody pie. But honestly you wanted to sink your fangs into him, not the food.

There was a second of hesitation.

He blinked and so did you, his lips parted and so did yours.

Soon your mouths moulded together in a passionate kiss, his moustache tickled your face deliciously just like his hands as they roamed your body never going further down your lower back (ever the gentleman considering the situation...). His smell was intoxicating, a masculine cologne with such a fresh and sugary hint, it made you feel like you were floating.

And his lips... He tasted delicious, the apple pie worked it's magic quickly making you addicted to his taste, those soft and plump lips of his pressed against yours more firmly as you walked backwards to one of the cubicles. His hot tongue melded with yours in a sensual dance that caused drool to scape your lips, neither of you cared... In fact, you started to like the mess so much you begun sucking on his tongue vigorously making him drop gutural growls and pants.

God, this man....

His hands ever so carefully guide you inside the cubicle you picked, you squeezed his arm hinting him to turn around never breaking the kiss that right now was just a mess of tongues and teeth.

You squirmed a little trying to blindly lock the door. He was getting you so riled up you couldn't even find the bloody lock so with a groan and a muttered apology you gave him a quick peck to his open panting mouth, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, and turned around to work the fucking door closed.

When you turned to him you took a chance to inspect the nameless soldier,

His half lidded eyes hid certain nervousness, a soft blush adorned his dark skin, his gorgeous lips were puffy and red form the delicious makeout session you just had, he was half seated on the toilet but slowly rose to a more straighten stance as he recovered his breath, one of his big hands discreetly covered the forming bulge from his pants playing it as if he was fixing his attire. There was a slight aura of innocence and shyness that broke through his silent, tough guy facade and you felt yourself salivating from more holes than one, you couldn't deny... The man already looked more appetizing than Price's apple pie.

...He looked... So bloody gorgeous... Specially when he took his beret off putting it to the side, and dark wavy hair cascaded off of it like a river of obsidian. You desperately wanted to run your fingers through his curly locks wondering what other sounds he would please you ears with if you pulled hard enough.

He was looking at you, analyzing you, taking you in. He looked shy, the remnants of the determined looking man from before seemed to have faded the moment you hid yourselves from the world inside one white cubicle of the ladies' bathroom. Now he seemed to be the prey and you the hunter blocking the only scape he had just like he did when he walked in.

The suddenly nervous Costa Rican gulped and slowly lifted his hand hesitantly, to all the places you expected him to touch you right now he decided to palm your left breast through your uniform.

His eyes widened, you looked up at him in question, he seemed to panic a little.

Is he okay? Has he ever touched a woman before?

"Hi." You whispered.

"Hello-" he whispered back.

"Your hand's on my tit." The whispering game continued.

He snatches his hand back. You grab it and put it back over your breast. His hand is softer than it looks, and now it's sweaty over your perky nipple.

"Have you ever done this before?" You say with a soft smile calming your own nerves knowing it'll only make him even more nervous. He was so damn adorable you couldn't believe this was real and not a fever dream product of your captain's magical apple pie...

He was blushing like a schoolboy but you didn't dare push it, the last thing you wanted was to scare him off and he already looked like a shaking leaf. His lower lip pouted a little through his groomed moustache as he took your words in, shook his head and answered rather quick.

"i mean Si-... Yes! I just- yeah... Pasó mucho tiempo. Long time...." He nodded, his accent thick. Apparently it's been a while since he had done this as well, you realized you two were in the same page.

A light chuckle scaped your lips and he smiled softly, he didn't take offense on your laughter, infact his shoulders seemed to relax the slightest, maybe realizing the same thing you did.

The silence returned but it was a warm one, his soft expression soon hid light dominance, the same one he had when he entered the bathroom searching for you. This is what he needed, the confort of knowing that, as casual as all of this encounter was, you still both were strangers but were willing to understand one another and make sure you were confortable through this whole thing. You needed this as well, as cocky as you turned out to be with Soap... It's been a long time...

His hand palmed your breast a little more firmly his other hand soon traveled to your bottom, one of your hands pressed his firmer to take a good handful of your ass before wrapping your arms around his neck. Your breaths hitched when he pressed himself to you, the door lightly shook at the push of two bodies colliding against it.

That's when you felt it. Your right hand traveled downwards to palm his achingly hard cock, you couldn't help the gasp you made when you felt his size... You saw a fraction of his cocky smile before he lowered his mouth to attack your neck with kisses, small bites and hard drags of his tongue. His fingers pinched your hardening nipple and his other hand quickly occupied itself pressing your ass against his pelvis.

Your soft moans were music to his ears as he dragged his clothed erection slowly but painfully hard against your wet pussy. You welcomed the delightful pain. Your fingers dig into his jacket trying to press him closer desperate to jump to the main event before someone entered the fucking bathroom.

Both of his hands were now on your ass slowly lifting you until you wrapped your legs around his waist. The handsome soldier started rocking your bodies into an exquisite slow dance, both of your genitalia weeping and swollen from the friction made your clothes feel sticky and annoying.

Your lips kissed once more, this time slower almost romantically and to the rhythm of your joined teasing thrusts, soon the friction created was so fucking and your muffled meowls were getting so addicting he couldn't help but slightly increase the pace.

The feeling of your wet panties sticking through your pants turned to be much more annoying than before, but he was a greedy soldier. He wasn't going to let you jump to the main course so quickly... He wanted to savour you a little longer, so he distracted your annoyance by harshly bouncing your ass a little faster, his cock crushing your clit juuuust the way you needed and just when you were about to moan shamelessly much louder than before, he stuffed your mouth with his tongue almost making you gag at the sudden intrusion, Oh my...

Your tongue fought for dominance against his, a fight so messy the lower half of your faces again turned sticky and wet of your joined saliva. The sounds of your open mouthed moans and gags everytime one of you got a little excited with their tongue filled the quiet bathroom.

His thrusts were getting painful for both of you a shared bitten hiss at the feeling of your clothes biting on your heated skin. You both looked into each other's eyes, the raven haired man gave you a determinated look that was met with an affirmative smile from your side.

You were positively surprised by how well you two communicated without even saying a word. You were thankful to have picked this soldier for your little adventure.

"Cariño..." He whispered, his sweet as honey voice was melting your heart.

"I'm a little big... We'll have to work on stretching you out..." Why were you two even whispering? Could anyone even hear you? Still, it felt nice, more intimate.

"How big are we talking, handsome? Should I worry?" You joked and he smiled bashfully.

Then his eyes looked down at his pants as the belt clank when he undid it, you unwrapped yourself from him and gave him some space to work on his pants, he still stepped back to you never wanting to lose any short of physical contact. One hand held your waist, another slowly moved down the higher part of his pants and boxers.

A happy trail of dark curly hairs decorated the visible skin, and as if time had slowed down his hand moved to pull out his dick and the fucking sound it made as his erection flicked up hitting his stomach made you audibly gasp.

He wasn't monstrously large but that... Scratch that, he was. This has to be one of the thickest and longest cocks you have ever seen out of screen.

He was easily... What? Ten inches large? And his girth was impressive as well. You contemplated on measuring it with your forearm but fought the urge to do it.

His charming chuckle broke your shock "You okay there?"

Are you kidding me? No? You felt intimidated... And intrigued... And your pussy was stretching around absolutely nothing and it was infuriating.

Your hands wrapped around it and have him a few teasing pumps, he hummed and parted his lips, desire was evident when a few droplets of precum met your finger pads.

"Trust me, i am more than ready." You didn't sound very convinced. He raised a brow with a worried expression but took your word for it.

"Alright, come. Set the pace." He sat on the toilet, his hands now working on your pants eagerly. You both couldn't have one more second of foreplay... The tension was heavy and so were your arousals.

You kicked your pants off and your panties soon followed, he took them from you and placed them inside his pocket, you didn't give enough of a flying fuck to comment on it. The only thought you had was sitting on that rock hard worryingly enormous dick.

Both of your legs went to each of his sides, he guided your hips down slowly and you supported yourself placing both hands on his shoulders. Your noses touched and breaths mixed as the head of his dick missed your hole and rubbed your clit instead. You gave it a teasing roll of your hips but soon lifted yourself and sank to trap the head between your lips.

His fingers dig into your skin. "Slow... Slow, preciosa" you kissed his stupidly adorable moustache and his lips keeping them still and pressed against him as you slowly sank your hips down to him. Your greedy hole sucked his cock in and damn... He was thick alright. He whimpered a little and you bit down your moan when his cock kept slowly sliding in.

You had to bite his shoulder or else you'd moan loudly in complete delight, his member never seemed to fucking end until you felt it bottom out. Your insides felt so full and his pubic hair tickled your skin, it was so much... Your eyes met, he was panting with his mouth completely opened.

You dared a look down and he did the same, a little gasp at the view made him smile in pride at the sight of your tiny pussy swallowing greedily his thick cock, the base completely flushed against you and a bulge in your lower tummy he gently touched.

"Look how nicely you took me, my good girl... Are you ready for me? Are you ready for daddy's big fat cock to rearrange your insides?"

You were already so high on each other you let out the most cock-drunk giggle you could muster only adding to his arousal. You felt his dick twitch inside of you when you moved to press yourself firmer against him, tits flushed to his chest and mouths kissing roughly and messily feeling the delicious sting of his facial hair pinching your lower face, but that ache and the one on your cervix was welcomed and muted by your growing arousal.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and moved your hips. To hell with letting you set the pace, your tiny little pussy and addicting tongue were driving him mad. He needed you. NOW.

He snapped his hips upwards making you yelp, the pain sink into your insides but you didn't care, you sat harshly against his cock, your tits bounced under your shirt with every harsh bounce on his lap. His patience grew thin the higher your pain-pleasured meowls got, your hips kept a harsh steady pace. He guided your hips with his hands to press his dick a little deeper kissing the entrance of your cervix harshly, you whined and winced but whispered to his ear your need.

He growled loudly the moment you whispered for him to take you right there.

His body caged you against the door once more, your legs wrapped around him again, you feared the bloody door would fall off and he seemed to think the exact same thing when he gently moved out of your pussy, turned you around and had you recline a little.

"Ass up baby girl... That's it."

Your ass wiggled a little at the harsh slap he landed on each cheek with a charming laughter, he was loving every part of your body he could see without clothing so far. He slapped your weeping entrance with his heavy cock and entered you much more easily than before.

You didn't hide your mutual moans of relief when he bottomed inside of you and instantly started snapping his hips against your ass, both of his hands went back to your hips to guide you to meet his needy thrusts. His bulky form soon lowered to your slightly bended body, you felt his chest against your back, your tits getting massaged by his big hands and his lips nipping at your neck.

His balls slapped against your ass when his angle slightly changed hitting a particular spongy spot that had your eyes rolling back “Ah-nh! Fuck! Yes yes yes yes yes-” The mewling whine that pulls from your throat quickly fades to a continuous stream of moans and whimpers, his ministrations ushering you out of your mind as you rapidly ascend the heights.

His panting turned into more vocal growls and grunts and he sunk his teeth into your shoulder.

The feeling of his massive cock stretching your pussy like this and his big heavy balls moving against you promising a sweet heavy load reserved just for you, made difficult to give a fuck about the noise you two were making. So you went with it and said fuck it all.

"Mark me, daddy. Fuck me like you mean it... Fuck this little pussy-" he interrupted your sentence loudly growling next to your ear, drunken of desire and sex.

His hips pistoned against yours so hard you had to bite down your screams. He fucked you hard and mercilessly, like your pussy was a stuck cabinet that wouldn't bug to close properly.

The entire cubicle shook with the brute force of this man's thrusts, at this point you were surprised your choked moans and yelps along his loud pants, growls and grunts didn't alert anyone that walked near the bathroom. Who cares?

You swore you could feel his balls pulsating as he fucked you dumb against the wall, his nails dig into your flesh adding to your pleasure, hopefully he would leave them marked so you could remember your little adventure. Your orgasm was approaching, the bubble growing impossibly big and about to burst. He could feel his end was nearing as well.

Your sinful moans got louder by the minute. That was until-

The door of the bathroom swings open, a small chattering group entering your improvised love nest.

He yanks your hair back and covers your mouth with his open palm, his teeth sunk into your shoulder breaking skin and drawing droplets of blood when the bubble completely exploded into a shaking orgasm, your eyes rolled back and you two came hard against each other. His love juices coated your walls, his balls emptying inside of you.

The voices of the ladies that chatted clueless of what was happening a few feet away from them continued, but your ears barely picked any noise at all. Your thighs shook violently and your pussy strangled the soldier's dick, his balls got completely milked and he hissed.

The feeling of his softening dick dragging away from your pussy made you shudder, you panted as quietly as possible when you felt him move away from you. You internally whined at the loss of contact.

He quickly reached back for the paper roll laying on the side and cleaned you gently. His mouth was back on you, his lips pressing softly down your wounded shoulder licking the little stains of blood, one of his hands massaged your swollen pussy lips as the other swiped the river of cum that cascaded from your abused pussy. You lifted your head slightly to the side and smiled back at him, he gave you the sweetest smile of his own.

Once cleaned, you put back your clothes as quietly as you could when you felt him hold you against him in a warm embrace. His nose dragged along your neck basking in your scent mixed with his, you ran your hands through his sweaty locks and just when he was about to passionately kiss you he stopped to listen-

"Yeah well he better be back. He's on cleaning duty."

"Who?"

"Who's gonna be? Gustavo fucking Rodriguez. Price is already fuming... I wonder what his next punishment will be when the captain sees he's missing."

Gustavo Rodriguez? That's his name?

Well that's one way to find out.

Gus' widened eyes almost made you crackle up, he looked like a looney toon about to explode from the building anxiety of a promised scenario of one angry Price scolding him like a child who skipped curfew.

"I'm so sorry... I gotta get out of here or the Capitan will surely have my head on a stick-" he whispered alarmed.

You hushed him with a kiss, both palms squishing his puffy cheeks, and nuzzled his nose with yours lovingly. He instantly melted at your loving gesture but focused on your finger when you pointed up at the top window in the corner.

A clear scape from an awkward encounter with the gossiping ladies.

"Think you can fit there?" You whispered smirking at the image of the bulky man crawling through the small window.

"I've entered tighter holes." Gus winked and you playfully punched his shoulder.

.

@stararch4ngelqueen

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

SFW Alphabet request 😊

Happy and the letter Y.

Sons of Anarchy Masterlist

Happy Lowman SFW alphabet masterlist

SFW Alphabet

Requests info

Yearning

Contains: Fluff, mild angst.

190 words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed

What's something they need from a person?

"You need something handsome?" Happy shook his head, "no." You placed a hand on his shoulder, "really, because you're looking kinda sad." He shrugged, "it's just been a long day." You nodded, "well, let's see what I can do to help. I can cook you a nice meal or run you a bath. We could go for a walk or take Opie to the park?" He thought for a minute, "can you make some chicken tenders while I call mum?"

"Of course my dear, chicky tendies come right up with veggies of course." Happy left to speak to his mother while you made dinner, Happy coming in to sit down just as you finished his plate, "feeling any better?" He nodded, "a little, dinner smells good." You smiled, "I made the tenders with some miso, they should be really nice."

Happy took a bite and moaned, "very good." You ate in silence, "you want to talk about what happened today?" Happy shook his head, "nah, I just want to sit with you." You nodded, "alright, I can do that. I love you very much."

"I love you too little girl."

Fin

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: why am I so anxious all the time?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

If Peggy’s party promised everything would change, the ‘yes’ you give to Arturo pays on that promise. Almost at once, everything is different. Your boring, orderly life is suddenly thrown into chaos. You have a hundred worries at once and not enough times; passport, visa, packing, flights. Not too mention all that you’re leaving behind; apartment, furniture, and... friends. 

It’ll be good. You keep telling yourself that, just like Arturo, just like Sam. They seem more excited than you are. You struggle to see past the grief of saying goodbye to the life you built there; the life you built around Steve and false hopes. It’s foolish and naive but it still hurts. 

And you’re scared. Norway. It’s far away. And you’ll be all alone. You survived college because you found Steve; you could stomach the furor of the city for Sam and Bucky, but on your own, what could you do? You’re not brave or bold or anything like that. 

It doesn’t matter. You’re going to work. To forget. Focus on the dig, don’t think about everything else. 

You’ve already lost so much. Steve’s busy, you are too. Maybe that’s good. You have to condition yourself for the trip. For a new life. A year is a long time. You feel like the newly graduated teen heading off to college, the one who walked into the wrong lecture hall on that fated day, the one he picked out and put firmly in her place; a friend, just a friend. 

As you sort through your closet, tossing fabric into one pile or the other, your music stops playing and your phone buzzes loudly against your nightstand. You hurry to pick it up as that noise makes your neck bristle. You hate it. 

You pick up without checking the display. You hope it’s the visa office. No, it’s Sam. 

“Hey, chicky poo,” he chirps from the other end. 

“Chicky poo?” You echo flatly. 

“Hm, you’re right, I’ll keep workshopping,” he chuckles, “so you’re leaving in a week?” 

“As long as my paperwork shows up,” you sighs and cross your arm over your middle. You sway as you look around at the clutter of your bedroom. “And I can get all this shit out of my place.” 

“When’s your flight?” He asks pointedly. He’s not subtle. Men never are. For years, you’d hoped Steve was being subtle and look how that turned out. You know now he was so obviously not into you.  

“Thursday, 5am,” you answer. 

“Ah, that’s pretty early to be hungover but it will be worth it.” 

“Hungover?” You wonder as you slowly sit on your bed, “why?” 

“You’re leaving us so obviously, you need a final hurrah,” he insists, “I’m throwing you a going away party. Just the four of us, unless you have any plus ones?” 

“Going away party?” 

“Neither of the other jerks are gonna do it,” he scoffs, “nothing fancy, promise. Just some drinks.” 

“What about Tuesday? Give me a day to recover?” 

“Wednesday works. Steve’ll be back by then.” 

“Back by then?” You must sound like a parrot. 

“Oh, yeah, the lovers went up north to look at venues for the engagement party. Too bad you won’t make it. I’ll have to drink myself into a stupour all by myself,” he intones. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you grumble and pick at a wrinkle in your pants. 

“Don’t be sorry. You deserve this. I’m so fucking excited for you,” he chimes, “you have to tell me everything. I want pictures of vikings and castles and stuff. All of it.” 

“Sam, I’m just going to be digging,” you mutter. 

“And? You can’t just go over there an put your head down. Go sightseeing, go out on the town, have a wild one-night stand--” 

“Sam,” you drone. 

“You need it,” he cackles, “it’ll be a story to bring home with ya. Make us all jealous with your wild Norwegian adventure. Hey,” he pauses and sucks his teeth, “you’re like Uno reversing a whole country. Vikings used to invade others, this is your chance to go right in there and raise hell.” 

“You’re stupid,” you laugh and shake your head. 

“Never said otherwise.” 

“Hm, fine, Wednesday,” you agree, “if I'm gonna be there, I gotta get all this shit packed.” 

“Did I not say if you need anything? I can help,” he offers. 

“No, no, I got it,” you say, “really, it’s not that much.” 

“Right, well, I should get back to it and let you do the same,” he says in a resigned tone. 

You hang up and heave. You put the phone down and drop your head into your hands. You feel like you should cry. You’ve felt that tide of tears pushing on your eyes since the party but they just won’t come. All that tension is driving you mad but you just can’t dislodge the nail driven deep into your chest. 

💟

Your life is hectic but you’re not surprised Steve isn’t part of the whirlwind. Why would he be? He has so much going on. A wedding is much more important than what could possibly be the most spontaneous and naive decision of your life. Impulsive more than anything. Cowardly when you think about it. You’re running away because you can’t face the truth. Because it’s just easy to leave your emotions in New York. 

Still, you thought you’d hear more than this. More than a thumbs up emoji or hearsay from Sam. Even after your conversation on the balcony and his reassurances, you still feel his discontent. Will he really miss you that much or is he just upset you won’t be there to celebrate the love of his life? 

It doesn’t matter, does it? 

It’s gone so fast and you hope the next year goes just as quickly. That all this passes. Not just the trip but everything else. The sadness, the pain, the fear. You try to be positive. You thought college was scary and look how that turned out. 

Ugh, you’re really doing this. You're leaving is all behind. You’re leaving your friends and your family and your home. You have no one to blame but yourself. You could’ve gotten over Steve Rogers a decade ago. More than that. You couldn’t rip the band-aid off, you had to pull it slow so ever hair rends painfully from the flesh. 

The GPS guides you between the shining marquee. You can see the pulsing dot of your destination on the screen. You don’t drive towards it, instead hunting for a parking spot among the cramped lots and lined curbs. You should’ve taken a cab but you’re only having one drink and you’re saving for the inevitable expense of hurling yourself halfway across the world. 

You get out and grab your phone, your purse hooked over your elbow. You raise the small screen and get your bearings, squinting as you set yourself in the right direction. Just across and at the end. 

As you approach the bar, you stop short. This isn’t exactly the flavour. Well, not for them. You peer up at the neon light in the shape of a martini, a bright pink beacon, under which a large group of women cluster. Whoops and hollers go up as they enter and leave you standing out in the technicolour-tinted night. Did you get the address wrong? 

You check your messages with Sam. No, it’s correct. Strange. Maybe he didn’t know. 

You pull open the violet-shaded glass door and peer around as you step out of the way of the patrons behind you. You text Sam to check if he’s there already. You can’t seem to keep up with the clock hands these days.  

As you wait for a response, you glance around. It’s like a Sex and the City reenactment. The guys always teased you for your rants about Carrie Bradshaw’s selfishness. They weren’t much for the genre. With them, it’s sports bars and beers and what ball game is in season. They never notice your cute new earrings or your efforts to spruce up your work clothes with a flashy belt. 

‘Here. You’re looking cute.’ Sam’s response comes.  

You narrow your eyes and stand on your toes to look around. He’s sitting at a tall table with Bucky, the two of them looking out of place before the feathered centerpiece and glitzy wall art of high heels. You can’t help a grin. This is absolutely ridiculous. 

You weave through the tables and bodies, past the bar of gabbing girl groups and a few men mixed in. You near your friends and claim one of the tall stools around the round table. You use the bottom bar to haul yourself up onto the seat and hang your purse from your knee. 

“Hey, this place is... sparkly,” you look around with a dumb smile. You can’t help it! You never get a girls’ night. 

“It is,” Bucky agrees in a grit. 

You stop short. You look at him then at Sam. You didn’t notice before. They’re wearing bows on their heads. Sam has a head band with a gregariously big pink ribbon, whereas Bucky has a glittering purple bow pinned into his thick locks. You laugh and smother it behind your hands. 

“What is this?” You snicker. 

“We are your ladies tonight!” Sam announces and shifts to stand, bending under the table, “and you get to be queen bee!” He reaches to the floor and you lean to see the huge tote underneath, “here is your tiara!” 

He pulls out the plastic tiara with fake pink gems and white feathers. You giggle again as he places it on your head. This is too much. 

“Sam! How—this is so stupid. You didn’t have to do all this.” 

“What? It’s about time. Don’t worry about us. It’s all about you,” he snaps his finger and points at you, “we’re going to order girly cocktails and dish on the cute dudes.” 

Bucky shakes his head as he fixes the bow in his hair, “I wanted a flower.” 

You bring your hands down to your next and wiggle on the seat giddily. This is amazing. Your eyes sting and your throat locks up. You’re going to miss these idiots. 

“You guys,” you breathe. 

“No crying!” Sam claps his hand, “I already got this guy moping around.” 

“I’m not moping,” Bucky sniffs. 

“We have to decide who’s who. I know you hate Carrie so we’ll save that for Steve. He is the stuck up blond, after all,” Sam smirks, “I’m definitely Samantha, it’s already in my name. And you,” he points at you, “Miranda. The level-headed one who has to put up with our BS. That means Bucky--” 

“Charlotte?” Bucky frowns, “can’t I be Stanford?” 

You nearly gasp, “Bucky, are you a stan?” 

“I’ve seen some episodes,” he shrugs. 

“Well, that’s decided,” Sam checks his watch, “where’s that bozo?” 

You frown and look around. You look at your phone. You were just on the cusp but Steve is late. Bucky takes out his cell too and all three of you scroll through your screens. 

“Whatever, we don’t have to wait for him, drinks,” Sam blacks the screen and sets down his phone. He reaches for the pink pleather drink menu, “I was looking at the Paradise Punch. Sounds interesting.” 

“Mm, I’m just having one,” you state, “I gotta drive home.” 

“Pfft, don’t worry about it. You can get your car tomorrow.” 

“Sam, I leave at five in the morning.” 

“Fine, I’ll take care of the car. You’re storing it, aren’t you?” 

“I wouldn’t expect--” 

“Tonight is going to be fun. No arguing,” he points a long finger at you. 

The phone jitters and his phone lights up. He picks it up as your cell remains lifeless in a rare moment of peace, though it’s fraught nonetheless. You peek over at the empty fourth stool. 

“He’s not coming,” you utter. 

Sam huffs and puts his phone down, “he’s not. Peggy has a work dinner and he’s invited.” 

“Oh,” you nod and try not to deflate entirely, “that’s... that’s fine. He said he’d come to the airport but I wasn’t counting on that either.” 

“Asshole,” Sam sneers. 

“Hey, no,” you shake your head, “he’s busy. He has a wedding and all that--” 

“You’re going away,” Bucky surprises you with the emotion in his tone, “and he can’t be here.” 

“Really, it’s not--” 

“It is,” Sam insists. “How long are you gonna let him walk all over you? Isn’t that why you’re leaving?” 

“It’s work, it’s nothing to do with Steve.” 

“Sure,” Sam accepts hotly, “keep telling yourself that.” He cringes and swallows, “tonight isn’t about him. For once. It’s about you. Us. Having fun. Saying goodbye. It’s gonna be terrible without you. I hope you know that.” 

You could laugh at his rebuke. The conflict between celebratory and reproachful is amusing. You exhale and put your hands up. 

“Alright, I got it.” 

“Buck,” he gestures to the other man, “go.” 

You turn to the Bucky and he slides off his stool. He reaches down under the table and brings up a gift bag. Your mouth falls open. Your chest tweaks, a mixture of glee and guilt. You’re happy to have friends with them but you feel so bad for not seeing it earlier. For being so tunnel-visioned that you couldn’t appreciate them fully. 

“This is so—you didn’t have to,” you say. 

“We did. Obviously,” Sam scoffs, “don’t worry, my gift is the grand finale.” 

“Right,” you smile and accept the bag from Bucky. You push through the tissue paper and pull out the heavy shape inside. You reveal it and just as quickly hide it back in the polka dot bag, “Bucky!” 

You let go of the taser and retract your hand. Sam guffaws and Bucky gives a confused grimace, “you need it.” 

“What?” You hiss. 

“You’re going to be all alone over there. You should be safe.” 

“I... appreciate the thought but it’s a bit extreme.” 

“He’s right,” Sam adds, “you know, going to the land of the vikings, you can never be too safe. I’ve heard they like to carry women off in their boats.” 

“You two,” you roll your eyes. 

“My turn,” Sam says, “you’ll love this.” 

He once more searches under the table and the tote crinkle. He pulls out an envelope and you tilt your head. Really? 

“Money?” You wonder. 

“What am I? Your grandma?” He snorts, “here.” 

You take the envelope and turn it over. You pull the flap open and reveal a pamphlet within, along with a second slip of paper. A reservation... 

“I found this place over there. It’s at some coastal castle, there’s a spa and all that. They do like ancient types of treatments, hot rocks or whatever,” he explains, “I made sure you can adjust the dates too if you need. You just have to call.” 

“Wow, that’s... Sam, I’m going to be so busy--” 

“I told you not to work yourself too hard. That’s a good excuse for you to get your head out of the dirt. Literally. Just think of me when you’re in a mud bath with a glass of champagne.” 

You put the envelope next to the gift bag and drop off the stool. You open your arms to them. Sam is up first and Bucky drags himself to his feet. You wrap them in a hug and they do the same in turn. It must be an absolutely ridiculous sight but you don’t care. You tuck your head against Sam’s arm and feel a rumble in Bucky’s chest. 

“Sam, that’s my ass,” Bucky snarls. 

“I was just making sure you didn’t forget your wallet,” Sam chuckles. 

“You’re a moron,” Bucky pulls away and shoves him. 

“Peas in a pod, bud,” Sam lets you go as the hug breaks up, “now, I need a drink and you...” he points in your direction, “need a double.” 

[holyblonded]

HIIIIII

So I want to start your chickie story do you have a bit of lore that I need to know before reading it??

And how was your day?

👌🇨🇵

my day is going pretty well, my tennis match got canceled so i got home and immediately took a nap. but i’m about to go get some chipotle and then finish my homework 😛

but some fundamentals about chickadee. this blurb gives a lot of insight. she’s one the auswnt and plays for arsenal. she joined both teams when she was 14. her legal guardian is sam and technically kristie. she’s an attacking midfielder but she can move around. she’s been a foster care all her life, and that caused some low confidence (shown in her beginning fics) in her life but being around both teams has really built it up. i believe my masterlist is in order so that should also help. let me know if you got anymore questions!!

[wonik1ss]

Jay & Y/n | entry 8 : who dis?

SYNOPSIS : two people with complete different life’s learn about each other with the help of a small little read book

a/n : written or tweets?

As the two girls walked in the library Bae stopped in her tracks.

“Gotta pee be back in 5!”. You rolled you eyes as you sat at a random table waiting for the girl. You decided to check what your little friend had written instead of mindlessly scrolling on tiktok.

You had picked up the book from the library the day before and giggled picturing your little soccer boy reading poetry in the library.

dear, chicky

since you want me to stand out more I want to see you stand out more. today ning ning is feeling really friendly so become her friend and the next clue will find you.

You sighed and threw your head back. Along with the missions you two had been talking in the sidelines of the book. About stupid stuff like tests and your greatest fears. One of which was talking to new people. How were you going to Finnish this task if you couldn’t in the first few years of highschool?

“Y/n?”. You looked up to see the campuses sweetheart Ning Ning. Well wasn’t that a Coincidence . She knew your name?

“Ya..?”

“Your Julie’s friend right!”. You nodded as the girl sat down next to you eager to start a conversation.

“Are you here for student council? I’m going to be the pres now so we are looking for a vice..”

“Uh no.. I just like the quiet”. Ning Ning’s face noticeable dropped a bit but she tried to keep the conversation light.

“Oh well.. there’s also a study group I’m starting! Just a few people meeting her on Wednesday to study together!”. You nodded as the girl went on and on about her study club. You were starting to understand why everyone loved her.

You never really liked to talk but somehow she got you giddy to respond to her rambling.

“Sooo..”

“I’ll join”. To anyone else Ning Ning was being Ning Ning but to you she was being your new friend.

“Well I have to go back to the meeting.. I’ll see you next Wednesday though!”. You nodded as the girl went back to her group who she eventually left with.

“Wait.. where’s Ning Ning?”

“She left.. how long did you need to pee?”. Bae sighed and threw her head back.

“My period just cock blocked me..”. You laughed as Bae perked up at the mention of the study group.

“Ok then you’ll go in as my spy.. this is perfect!”. You smiled at her as she went on and on about your special “mission” on Wednesday. While you were just happy she was happy. To think none of this would have happened without your little starboy.

entry 8 : who dis

masterlist | entry 9 !

taglist ! OPEN for now you can ask anytime to be added, by commenting or asking :)

@bilagee @a-yn-wannabe @teyiti @kittyhaerin1 @muhwaa @pchaebro @1luvkarina @grayscorner @wandering-gigi @haehyuv98 @yelenabelovasgf @winieter

[mrskodzuken]

Make It Up

pairing: Kozume Kenma x f!reader

genre: smut with fluff bits

wc: 0.9k

cw: 18+ MDNI, post-timeskip, established relationship, bottom(ish)!Kenma, mirror sex, handjob (m!receiving), nipple play (m!receiving), brief mentions of marking, sorta dry humping from behind, implied blowjob in the end (m!receiving), ‘Daddy’ mentioned once.

a/n: for @chickentendieboi’s Kinkmas collab (that was triggered by an event drabble written by @kentimestwo feat. a subby Kenma <- my request). Thank you for beta reading this and giving me suggestions @ovarysnake23 and @mitsuyaya 🙇🏻‍♀️♥️ tagging @anime-central @hanayanetwork

My Masterlist | Chicky's Kinkmas Masterlist

General Taglist form link

Kenma rinsed the remaining cleanser foam off his face with water and patted it dry with a clean towel hooked near the bathroom sink. He looked at himself through the wide mirror, holding his jaw gently and checking his face for any foam streaks left behind.

“Hey pretty boy~”

He nearly jumped in shock when he heard your soft voice from behind, his golden cat-like eyes widened and the hair at the back of his neck raised upward. Kenma then glanced at your leaning figure at the bathroom door through the mirror, smiling in amusement and arms crossed across your chest.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s you…,” he sighed in relief, hands leaning hard at the edge of the sink, and chuckled softly. “Geez… don’t scare me like that, please? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Kenma heard you giggling as you approached him from behind, wrapping your arms around his body and hugging him in the process. You perched your chin on his shoulder, humming and looking innocently at him through the mirror.

The gamer reached for your hair and ruffled it gently; your face scrunched up a bit by the action. “What are you thinking about, kitten?”

“Hmm…? Nothing in particular. It’s just, I missed you, that’s all,” you said, a little pout forming on your lips.

He faintly smiled, looking at you with love-filled eyes, and chuckled. Kenma knew how much of a darling you were, loving and caring for him as much as he is to you, ever since the both of you started dating and became a couple, before living together in one roof.

He reached for your hand and intertwined it with his own, raising to give it a soft peck; his ears didn’t miss the soft hum that escaped from you. “I missed you, too, Y/N. I’m sorry I had to leave you here alone all week because of a boring business trip overseas that I was forced to attend.”

The Bouncing Ball Co. CEO felt your head resting on his shoulder, your hug a bit more tighter around him; he sighed and gave your hand another kiss. “You must be lonely without me by your side, right?”

You nodded silently, and Kenma could feel his heart ache. Oh how he imagined you curled in your shared bed every night, crying, whispering his name, praying that he would return soon…

He paused for a moment before speaking. “How can I make it up to you, hm? Tell me.”

—

He found himself looking through the mirror a few minutes later, his soft pants filling up the bathroom. Sweat rolled down his flushed cheeks, his mouth opened agape as his fucked-up gaze followed your hands on his now-bare chest, fiddling both his pert nipples. Your hot tongue kept on licking long wet stripes on the side of Kenma’s neck, already littered with a few red marks blooming across.

His hands were gripping hard on the bathroom sink, turning his knuckles white. “Y/N, babe…”

“You’re really pretty like this, Kenma,” you hummed breathily close to his ear, flicking and twisting his sensitive nubs. He couldn’t help but squirm a bit under your touch, yet he leaned into it with much want. It drove him crazy, the heated sensation he felt from your ministrations made the tent in his sweatpants go up and form a wet patch.

He knew you noticed it with a swift gaze down through the mirror and moaned into his shoulder, your eyes locked with Kenma’s golden ones. Before your boyfriend could respond, you reached for the bulge between his pants and slowly rubbed your palm on it.

“F-fuck, kitten, that’s… oh shit mhmm…” he gasped and groaned, biting his lower lip to stifle his moans. “D-don’t… stop…,” he mumbled, panting, his head slowly drooping down from the wonderful feeling.

“Chin up.” Kenma’s head snapped back after hearing the stern tone of your voice, lust-filled eyes still locked with his. He could hear you moaning while your hand gradually sped up stroking his clothed erection; you must’ve also noticed the constant twitching and throbbing of his cock by now. Hot breath fanned dangerously near his ear, the tip of your tongue teasing its shell.

“Y/N, s-slow down! If you—fuck—if you continue on doing that, I might c-cum soon.”

You only hummed in reply, peppering the other side of his neck and shoulder with love bites next. The ongoing stimulation of both his clothed hard-on and nipples being fondled, you humping and rubbing your chest against his back—it was too much for him.

You stopped stroking him and backed away slightly from him, smirking a bit when Kenma whined from the lack of touch.

“Turn around, kitten.” The gamer obliged and was surprised to see you down on your knees, your hands slowly feeling his thighs up. He groaned as your hands brushed against his hard dick in your ascent to the waistband of his sweatpants. His breath hitched. Just the sight of you on your knees in front of him, eyes dark with lust, smirk painted on your face—it’s insufferable. At this moment, he wanted you, wanted your warm and pretty mouth to feel him right now...

You licked your bottom lip, your eyes staring innocently into his golden orbs. Your hands started pulling his pants down to reveal his fully-erect and leaking length, its weeping head smacking onto his abs leaving traces of pre.

“I hope you’re ready to make it up to me all night, Daddy,” you whispered softly, before leaning forward through his exposed cock.

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