#hope i covered everything B-)... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

josephandrewstarkey · 20 days ago

Text

beach fight - part 3

part 1 - part 2

warnings: MDNI!! smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, fingering, car sex, dirty talk, kind of public,

disclaimer: lowk giggled while writing this 🤣 message me to b on the taglist!!!

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

Y/N woke up early the next morning, sunlight creeping in through the curtains. She blinked, trying to remember where she was. Slowly, the events of the previous night came flooding back—sneaking off with Rafe to his house, the heat between them, his hands all over her.

Her heart raced as regret settled deep in her chest. She never meant for this to happen again. She glanced over at Rafe, still asleep beside her, looking peaceful and unaware. Quietly, she slipped out of the bed, trying not to wake him. She hurriedly gathered her clothes, slipping into her shorts and shoes, but her shirt was nowhere to be found.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, looking around the room.

Her eyes landed on one of Rafe’s oversized shirts, a faded old tee she used to steal from him back when they were together. It was her favorite, and the memories stung her as she pulled it over her head. She gave one last glance at Rafe, who was still asleep, then snuck out of his house and headed straight for the Chateau.

When she got there, the Pogues were already up, hanging out outside. Sarah, Kie, Pope, Cleo, and JJ all stared at her as she walked in, clearly curious about her disappearing act from last night.

“Where were you?” Sarah asked, eyebrow raised.

Y/N tried to play it off, shrugging. “Out.”

JJ wasn’t letting it slide that easily, though. He smirked, eyeing her shirt. “Whose shirt is that?” knowing damn well who it belonged to.

Y/N stuttered, her brain scrambling for an excuse. “I…uh, I spent the night with some cute guy, okay? Stole his shirt,” she said quickly, hoping it would shut them up.

But Sarah wasn’t convinced. She squinted at the shirt, recognition flashing in her eyes. “Isn’t that Rafe’s shirt?”

Y/N froze for a second but quickly covered it up with a laugh. “No, you’re imagining things.”

Before Sarah could press further, the conversation shifted as they decided to take their new boat out for a ride. Y/N was grateful for the distraction, needing to clear her head. The boat was a breath of fresh air, the sea breeze whipping through her hair as they sailed around. She was wearing a black bikini and sunglasses, hoping the day on the water would wash away her guilt.

Everything seemed fine—until Topper’s boat sailed up beside them. Onboard was Rafe, Sofia, and the rest of their Kook crew. Y/N’s heart raced as Rafe’s eyes immediately found hers. His gaze was intense, trailing over her body like he couldn’t help himself. She saw Sofia clinging to him, clearly aware of what had happened between them. Sofia’s glare was sharp, her hands gripping onto Rafe like she owned him.

Y/N looked away, pretending not to care, but she couldn’t help the smirk forming on her lips. She caught Rafe glancing at her again, his eyes lingering on her bikini-clad body, especially her ass. He didn’t know she could see him staring, and something about it made her feel powerful.

Meanwhile, the Pogues and Topper’s crew were arguing about something trivial, but Y/N and Rafe’s silent exchange felt louder than anything around them. When the two boats sailed in opposite directions, Y/N looked back one last time, catching Rafe’s eyes before they disappeared out of sight.

Later that day, Y/N had to head to work at a local bar in the OBX. It was just another shift until she heard a small cough behind her. She turned around, and her stomach dropped. Sofia stood there, looking smug.

“Can I help you?” Y/N asked, trying to act normal.

Sofia didn’t order anything. Instead, she got straight to the point. “I know what you did with my boyfriend last night.”

Y/N’s heart pounded, but she kept her cool. She turned around slowly, trying not to let Sofia see her stress. “Do you?” she replied casually, wiping down the counter.

Sofia stepped closer, her voice cold as ice. “Stay away from him, or you’ll regret it.”

Y/N chuckled at her empty threat. “Sure.” she said, grabbing Rafe’s shirt from behind the counter and holding it out. “Oh, but can you give this to Rafe? Tell him I had an amazing time last night. Although, I barely managed to walk this morning.”

Sofia’s face twisted with fury, her hands trembling as she snatched the shirt from Y/N. She looked like she was on the verge of tears, ready to snap, but instead, she stormed out of the bar. Y/N leaned against the counter, laughing under her breath.

ꨄ

A few hours later, while still at work, Y/N’s phone buzzed with messages from an unknown number. At first, she ignored them, but curiosity got the best of her. She opened the texts to see it was Rafe, attacking her for telling Sofia what happened blablabla

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the messages, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction. She left him on read, refusing to engage. She had no regrets about throwing it in Sofia’s face. The rest of the night was busy, but as it neared midnight, Y/N started to close up the bar.

Just as she was about to lock the door, she heard the rumble of a truck pulling up outside. Her heart sank when she saw Rafe’s figure stepping out of the truck, heading straight toward her. Before she could react, a pair of strong hands grabbed her and yanked her back, pulling her away from the door. She struggled for a moment, but the grip was too strong.

“Rafe, what the hell?” she snapped, turning around and slapping him across the face.

He didn’t even flinch.“Why didn’t you answer my texts?”

“Because I don’t owe you anything,” she shot back, glaring at him. Why do you care? It’s not like we’re together.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Why’d you leave without telling me?”

“Because i regret everything that happened last night Rafe.”

Rafe stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. “No, you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” Y/N insisted, crossing her arms. “It was a mistake.”

There was a tense silence between them before Rafe suddenly grabbed her wrist, dragging her toward his car. “Alright, let’s see if you’ll regret this.”he muttered, his voice dark as he opened the backseat door and pushed her inside.

Before Y/N could protest, Rafe climbed in after her, his hands already on her, lips brushing against her neck. His dominance sent a shiver through her, and despite her words, she found herself kissing him back. It was rough, intense, the kind of heat she couldn’t ignore.

They tore at each other’s clothes, their desire taking over. Rafe’s hands roamed over her body, pulling her closer as he whispered dirty words into her ear, his touch sending waves of pleasure through her. He kissed her hard, taking control as they lost themselves in each other, the backseat quickly becoming their own heated world.

Breaking the kiss, Rafe tore at her blouse, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons at the back. The fabric slid down her body, pooling at her waist, revealing her bare skin and a lacy black bra that barely contained her full breasts. He cupped her breasts, thumbs rubbing over her hardened nipples, making her arch into his touch.

"You regret this, huh?," he growled, his voice rough with desire.

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of anticipation and submission. She wanted him, craved the dominance he exuded, and was eager to surrender to his desires.

Rafe's hands moved lower, sliding beneath the lace of her panties, his fingers finding her wetness. He stroked her slick folds, circling her clit, making her gasp and squirm against him. Her juices coated his fingers, proof of her arousal and eagerness.

"So wet for me," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Thought you made a mistake.”

Y/N could only nod, her mouth dry as her body throbbed with need. Rafe's fingers continued their torment, pushing inside her, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come.

"Please," she begged, her voice hoarse.

Rafe unzipped his jeans, freeing his thick cock. He positioned himself at her entrance, his tip nudging her wetness. With a single, powerful thrust, he impaled her, filling her in one smooth motion. Y/N cried out, her body accommodating his size as he plunged deep.

"Fuck" he grunted, his hands gripping her thighs as he began to move.

Rafe set a relentless pace, his hips snapping forward, driving into her again and again. The car rocked with the force of his thrusts, the backseat creaking in protest. Y/N's hands clawed at his back, her nails digging into his skin as she matched his rhythm, meeting each thrust with abandon.

"Harder," she panted, her voice laced with pleasure and pain.

Rafe obliged, his hands gripping her hips tightly, lifting her up to meet his downward strokes. He slammed into her. Y/N's moans filled the car, a mix of pleasure and raw need. Her body trembled, on the edge of release, as Rafe pounded into her relentlessly.

With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe buried himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing within her. Y/N clenched around him. She cried out, her back arching, her nails drawing blood from his shoulders as she came.

They stayed joined for a moment, breathing heavily, their hearts racing. Rafe's cock twitched inside her, still sensitive from his release, as he slowly withdrew.

Y/N smiled, her eyes glittering with satisfaction. "Maybe i didn’t regret it after all.” she whispered, her fingers tracing the contours of his face.

Rafe grinned, his dominance softening as he pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

After a few moments Y/N sits up, breathless, adjusting her clothes. She quickly pulls on her pants and begins fixing her hair, but Rafe watches her with a furrowed brow.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, voice still rough from their encounter. His eyes flicker to the door, clearly not wanting her to leave.

“Home,” Y/N replies, not looking at him as she buttons her shirt. Her hands are shaky, but she tries to keep it together.

“No, you’re not,” Rafe says, his tone firm, as if that was the final word on the matter. He reaches out, grabs her wrist, and pulls her back towards him.

Y/N frowns, tugging her hand away, but Rafe’s grip is strong. “Rafe, I need to go,” she insists, but he’s already pulling her out of the car and heading to the house, guiding her by the waist.

“You’re coming with me,” Rafe mutters, and she doesn’t have the energy to argue. A part of her doesn’t even want to, but her mind is racing—after everything, after the regrets, after Sofia’s confrontation at the bar, what was she still doing with him?

They sneak inside quietly, the darkness of the house wrapping around them like a blanket. Everyone is asleep, and the only sound is the faint creak of the wooden floor beneath their feet. As soon as they reach the hallway, Rafe’s lips are on hers again, like he can’t get enough. Y/N kisses him back, letting herself get lost in it, her mind spinning. She’s supposed to be mad at him, supposed to be done with this, but there’s something about him she can’t resist.

Their hands fumble with each other as they make their way to his room, tripping over themselves, barely breaking the kiss. Rafe’s hand slides to her waist, pulling her closer as they stumble, giggling softly, trying to stay quiet.

Just as they reach his room, Rafe pushes the door open without looking. They fall through, still kissing, his hands exploring her body like he’s starved for her. Y/N lets out a soft sigh against his lips, but then they both freeze. Something’s off.

The light. It’s on.

Their eyes fly open at the same time, lips parting as they realize they’re not alone. Sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at them with wide, furious eyes, is Sofia.

part 4 here

taglist:

@thepopcultureaddict @esquivelbianca @carolina6677 @lovrsin @alayaaaahhhhhh @rrosiitas @izurelia

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #drew starkey fic #rafe outer banks #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #obx #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x y/n

802 notes · View notes

soaps-mohawk · 6 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 21: Crime and Punishment

Summary: A trip to town to run errands has you questioning everything.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,719

Warnings: Ch 21 Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, rough-ish sex, overstimulation, creampie, language, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, Ghost’s emotional constipation, unresolved sexual tension, angst, and of course fluff.

A/N: I don't think I've ever written the word panties as many times as I did here. Again, not much to say about this one, so I hope you enjoy!!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

You stare at your face in the mirror. Wisps of hair stick to your forehead from the sweat starting to bead on your skin, your lips slightly parted as you breathe heavily. Your hands grip the edges of the sink, knuckles white from how hard you’re holding on for dear life.

Your legs are trembling, quickly turning into jello. You lean forward more, resting your hips against the edge of the sink for stability. Your mouth falls open in a moan as it changes the position of the cock pistoning into you just slightly.

Soft grunts leave Johnny’s lips as he fucks you in your bathroom, his thrusts urgent and desperate. Five minutes, he had groaned against your lips as he pushed your door open and walked you backwards into your room.

It’s probably been longer than five minutes, but you’re hardly in the state of mind to care. He’s supposed to be halfway across the base by now, but you’re certain he doesn’t care either. It won’t take the others long to figure out what had made him so late, and you can almost guarantee John will make him pay for choosing to play hooky and having a quickie with you in the bathroom instead of going to training like he’s supposed to.

One of his hands leaves the vice-like grip he’s had around your hips to slide to the front of your body, his fingers frantically rubbing circles over your clit. Your back arches in pleasure as the sensations become too much, your hips pushing back against his. He’s still dressed, his cargo pants pushed down over his ass just enough to free his cock. Your pants are around your ankles, underwear pushed to the side. Your shirt and bra are pushed up over your chest, your breasts out on display for him. His eyes haven’t left them in the mirror and the way they bounce with every rough thrust of his hips.

“Jesus christ, yer gonnae kill me.” He groans as your pussy clamps tightly around him.

He presses his chest to your back, his hand gripping the edge of the sink as you writhe in his arms. His fingers don’t let up on your clit as you cum, your legs trying to clamp around his hand.

“Johnny!” You squeal as the sensation becomes overwhelming. “Too much!”

“Ye can take it.” He groans in your ear, his voice breathy and hoarse from pleasure. “Just a little more.”

All you can do is babble incoherently as he continues to slam his hips into your ass, his breaths heavy in your ear. You can feel the pressure building again despite the burning overstimulation of his fingers on your clit.

“Please, please, please!” You pant, your head pressing back against his shoulder as you arch further against him.

“Fucking love this sweet little cunt.” He growls into your ear, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. “So fucking good fer me.”

You’re cumming again, your knees buckling under you. His arm snakes around your waist, finally moving from your clit to hold you up. He lets out a loud, salacious groan as his hips slam into you one last time. You can feel his cock twitching as he cums, emptying his load inside you.

His forehead presses against your back for a moment as you both attempt to catch your breaths. Your legs are still trembling as he begins to move, pulling his cock from you before he slides your panties back into place. He drags his hand over your covered folds, groaning quietly.

“Better keep that in there.” He says, tugging your pants back up, doing the button for you and tugging the zipper back up. “Keep your mind on me the whole day.”

You moan softly at his words, your pussy clenching out of instinct. He groans as he tucks himself back into his pants, staring down at your tits as you turn to face him. He curses, cupping them in his hands for a moment.

“Fuck, I have tae go. Price is gonna kick my arse for bein’ late.” He leans down to kiss you, tugging your bra and shirt back down. “See ye at lunch, if I survive the wrath waitin’ fer me.”

He leaves you there so casually, as if he hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes fucking you relentlessly in your bathroom. Your legs are still trembling as you lean against the sink, your teeth sinking into your lip as Johnny’s cum begins to seep out of you. They’ll know, they’ll know exactly why he’s late with one whiff of his scent. He’ll smell like you, smell like the musky scent of sex and sweat. All hope of blaming it on something else is out the window.

All you can do is pray John goes easy on him. It’s not like you haven’t made John late before, though usually both of you were late for meals because you decided you needed an appetizer, and it felt unfair to make him walk around half hard. You hope he can have a little sympathy for Johnny. If you’d said no, made him be on time to training, he might not have been able to focus at all.

You still can’t be sure he’ll be able to focus, though. You’ve probably only succeeded in changing the trajectory of his thoughts. Instead of whistfully picturing himself fucking you, he will be thinking about how he fucked you.

You wonder how John will punish him for being late and distracted. Pushups? Running? Maybe extra rounds running the obstacle course. Or maybe he’ll save the punishment for later. Maybe he’ll force Johnny to sit there and watch him fuck Johnny’s cum out of you, force Johnny to sit still and not touch himself or you. Maybe he’ll fuck you right over Johnny, your tits bouncing in his face just as he likes, but he’ll be restrained, forced to watch but not to touch. He’ll get all whiny, begging for any mercy as his cock gets all red and swollen, throbbing in time with John’s thrusts.

Your pussy clenches at the thought, more of Johnny’s release seeping out of you.

Fuck, you are going to be thinking about him all day.

“Took your time, MacTavish.” John says, crossing his arms as the beta Sergeant saunters into the gym.

“Get your dick caught in a door again?” Simon asks, crossing his arms too.

“More like he got his dick caught in a saucy little omega.” Kyle says, catching the overwhelming scent of sex and strawberries wafting off his fellow beta.

Simon’s hands clench, his scent thickening just a little, but none of them seem to pick up on it.

“Well, since you seemed to have more important things to do than your job this morning, you can go first.” John says, nodding to the mat. “Garrick, you’re up too.”

Kyle makes his way to the middle of the mat, cracking his knuckles. Johnny saunters to the middle of the mat behind him, still riding the high of his quickie before joining them. Your scent is thick on his clothes, wafting into his nose, bringing back mental images of you bent over before him, tits bouncing in the mirror as he drove his hips into your ass over and over. Those sweet cries of pleasure, the way you shoot in his arms making his blood pump in his veins, the satisfaction making his head spin a bit.

Kyle moves first, hoping to use Johnny’s seemingly distracted state against him. He aims for Johnny’s middle, but Johnny’s ready for it, blocking Kyle from getting his arms around him.

Johnny uses the advantage, planting his feet firmly as he flips Kyle onto his back, pinning his fellow beta. Kyle yields, Johnny’s shoulder in his stomach not helping the spasm in his diaphragm from how he hit the mat.

“Bloody hell.” Kyle gasps out, trying to catch his breath. “The fuck was that?”

“Just me beating you. Again.” Johnny smirks.

“Yeah? Well I still have you beat on the course.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to stand. “Should work on your speed instead of your biceps once in a while.”

“Alright, you two.” Price says, stopping the argument before it becomes something more. “Garrick, get out of there.” He silently motions for Simon to take Kyle’s place.

Simon moves onto the mat, staring down his beta. It’s not unfamiliar from the first time they ever sparred together. Simon has size and raw power to his advantage, but Johnny is quick on his feet. Johnny takes a defensive stance, planting his feet on the mat. Simon moves quickly, Johnny just barely managing to dodge his first hit. Simon catches Johnny's own swing aimed for his face, wrapping his arms around the beta to try and sweep him off his feet.

His mistake is taking in a deep breath so close to Johnny's chest.

The scent of strawberries flows straight into the back of his brain, igniting a fire in his veins. His blood is boiling, his instincts riding high off the scent of omega wafting off of his beta, creating an alluring cocktail that nearly blinds him.

Simon rams his shoulder into Johnny’s stomach, the air leaving the beta’s lungs in a pained gasp. He flips Johnny onto his back, the back of his head smacking the mat.

“Christ, I yield.” Johnny gasps, holding up his hands to stop Simon from continuing his assault.

Simon’s hands are shaking, his breathing ragged. His mind is still reeling from the scent of omega on his beta. He shouldn’t be reacting this way to the scent of an omega he knows well, an omega he recognizes. He had accepted Johnny would want that kind of relationship with the pack omega early on, so why does he feel jealousy burning in the back of his mind.

He leaves the training room, slamming the door behind him before heading outside, gulping down lungfuls of damp air free from the scent of omega. You weren’t even in the room and yet it was like you were standing before him, taunting him with your sweet scent. He leans against the outside wall of the gym, letting the air clear his head. Had they been alone and not in the middle of the base, he might have pulled off his mask, let the air touch his skin and dry the sweat that has slowly soaked into the fabric.

He squeezes his eyes shut as the door opens, the gravel crunching under cautious steps. He can feel eyes on him, the prickling of his skin from the harsh, questioning gaze. It’s not the first time he’s found himself under the scrutinizing stare of his pack alpha. He’s used to it, the attention being on him. He's an officer, he's the one being looked to when things go wrong, when important decisions need to be made. He has to be aware, clear-headed, and focused at all times.

That's the one thing he can't be right now.

“It will get easier if you just give in.” Price says, leaning against the wall next to him. “I know you want to.” Price cuts him off before he can offer up any argument. “The longer you try to deny it, the worse things will get for you. I don’t want to have to question your ability to be successful in the field.”

Simon swallows the lump in his throat, his mind reeling. He knows deep down Price is right. The longer he pushes away those thoughts, fights to keep those urges at bay, the more that tight rein on his emotions will slip. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising as he takes a deep breath. He’s spent decades now mastering control, keeping things buried when he needs to. Then you come along and fuck everything up for him.

It’s not fair to blame it on you. It’s not your fault. You don’t even know you’re doing it. You’re not even trying. You just exist around him and he's losing control.

Price can report that to the stupid initiative program.

“Is this going to become a problem?” Price asks him, giving him a pointed look.

Simon sucks in another deep breath. Is it going to become a problem? Is he going to let it become a problem? He releases the breath, shaking his head to try and clear it. “No, sir.”

“How are you doing?”

“Better.” You say, stretching your legs out in front of you. “I didn’t have a nightmare last night.”

“That’s great! Small improvements are still improvements.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down on her notepad. “How are things going with your pack? Have things settled since they returned?”

You nod. “Yeah. For the most part. There’s still...something lingering.” You chew on your lip nervously. You can’t tell her what it is, the thing that eats you alive daily. She’d have to tell your pack, and then everything would come undone. “I’m worried that any day now they’ll have to leave me again.”

“You won’t be alone this time, though.” She says, reminding you of what John had done for you.

“I know, but...what if they don’t come back?”

“That is an unfortunate reality, a risk you all have to live with. There’s not much that can be changed about that, but I know they’ll do everything in their power to return home to you.” ’ She gives you a soft smile. “They care about you a lot.”

“But...they're supposed to put their jobs above everything else. That was part of this whole experiment. Their jobs come first, and I come second.”

“But, Captain Price has already advocated against that by requiring one of them stay behind with you when they get sent out on assignments. That’s not putting their job above you.”

She’s right. John fighting to make things more comfortable for you was them putting their priority on you and your comfort. Of course, John had told you they had only advocated for it at this point. There was no guarantee those in leadership would approve, that General Shepherd would approve, but he said he’d fight it as hard as he had to. It wasn’t always necessary for all of them to be sent out anyway, so it was more likely there’d be at least one, if not two of them with you most of the time.

“Besides,” Dr. Keller continues. “In my professional opinion, it’s not sustainable to expect them to have an omega in their pack and also expect them to neglect their omega in favor of their jobs. The whole point of the initiative is to see if the assimilation of omegas into military packs will be helpful or a hindrance. There has to be a balance if they want even a chance at this being successful. While their jobs and what they do is important, they can’t expect full dedication to that job while also trying to care for an omega.”

You’ve never thought about it that way before. They had been so dead set in your briefings about how their jobs were more important than you and how you had to be prepared for anything to happen because their job always comes first.

“It’s important to keep in mind that you are essentially the trial for this initiative. There’s going to be ups and downs, things they didn’t account for in their planning, if they did any real planning, and things that have to be adjusted as they come up. There’s just some things you can’t properly predict until the trial is taking place.”

You haven’t really thought about it that way either. You are the first omega involved in this initiative, the trial run, the guinea pig. Is that why General Shepherd came to base and wanted to meet you? Is that why they wanted cameras in your room? To ensure things really were going properly, and everyone was doing what they were supposed to do? That things really are as fine as you, and likely John, have said?

What if they think things are going badly? What if they think the initiative is a failure? What happens then? What can they really do now that you’ve been claimed and assimilated into the pack?

“What’s going on in your head?” Dr. Keller asks softly.

“What if...what’s going to happen if the initiative fails?” You ask.

Dr. Keller hums, obviously not having expected that question. “Well, I don’t think there’s much they can do. They made it far enough in the planning that they thought it was worth the chance of a live trial with an omega and an established pack. They wouldn’t have taken that risk without the belief that it will be successful.” Dr. Keller crosses her legs, setting her notebook to the side. “If, and it’s a big if, it failed, then there’s not a lot they can do, legally. You’ve been claimed, which legally puts you under Captain Price’s care, and while the military is a grey area when it comes to legality, I doubt they’d run the risk of trying to remove you from the pack at this point.”

“They’d run the risk of their task force falling apart.” You say, the pieces starting to come together.

Dr. Keller nods. “Exactly. If your pack is as important as they appear to be, I doubt anyone involved in this would take that risk of losing such valuable soldiers. Forcibly removing you would turn your pack against them in the blink of an eye. All trust they have in their superiors will be turned on its head and destroyed completely. No matter how loyal they are to their jobs, that loyalty will shift very quickly should something happen to you at their hands.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your heart rate starting to kick up. So you had made the right choice in keeping General Shepherd’s visit and the cameras a secret. The last thing you want is to ruin their lives over what was probably nothing, over something that would have been inconsequential in the end. Something they possibly know about already.

That thought lingers constantly in the back of your mind. They know and they’re waiting for you to finally spill and reveal what happened. What happens then? How will they punish you for lying to them, for withholding important information, information that puts not only you, but them at risk as well? Will they ever forgive you for not telling them right away? Could you grovel and plead with excuses of fear and naivety? Could you lie again and claim you were scruffed? John already knows of your nightmares, of your fear. You’d have to think up a reason as to why you lied to him that night too, though.

Lying will only dig you deeper and deeper into more lies until all their trust in you is broken beyond repair.

The trust between you will still be broken if you tell them, though.

“Have you been thinking of this a lot lately?” Dr. Keller asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

You nod, dropping your gaze to your hands. “I overheard John and Simon talking about it the other night. Simon asked if this was worth it if it failed, and John seemed confident it wouldn’t.”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it as many times as I need to.” You lift your gaze to meet Dr. Keller’s. Her face is as serious as her tone. “Your pack isn’t going to let anything happen to you. Pack loyalty to omegas is not something to be tested, especially not a pack as fierce as yours. They’d go to war for you, if they had to. I don’t doubt that one bit.”

Your brows pull into a frown. “You really think so?”

She nods. “I know so. You’re very lucky.”

You are lucky. Things could have been much worse for you.

“C’mon kitten,” Johnny says, barging into your room.

You let out a startled shriek, nearly jumping out of your skin as you clutch your towel desperately around your naked, still slightly damp form. You just got out of the shower not too long ago, and had been deciding on what to wear on the warmest day you’ve experienced since your arrival in England when Johnny barged his way into your room.

Barged may be a strong word for it. Your door wasn’t even closed all the way.

Your heart is still thudding in your chest, your breaths slightly heavy as he digs through your closet, picking out clothes for you. “What the hell?” You breathe, adjusting your grip on your towel. “Scared the shit out of me.”

Johnny turns, giving you a grin. “Sorry, kitten.” His eyes drop to where you’re clutching the towel, and you can practically see the idea flash through his mind, the idea to rip the towel off and lick every last droplet of water off of your body before having his way with you.

“What’s going on?” You ask, trying to refocus his mind on what he was doing.

His eyes snap back up to yours, his grin widening. “We’re goin’ on an excursion.”

“Excursion?” You ask, barely managing to catch the clothes he throws at you and keep your towel up at the same time.

“Got some errands tae run in town, an’ yer comin’ with us.” He looks you over. “So get your claes on and meet us outside.”

You blink at him as he leaves your room, not bothering to close the door behind him. You stare down at the clothes in your hands, a t-shirt and the skirt that’s been hanging in your closet that you had yet to even try on. Of course he’d pick something like that for you to wear. You’re tempted to go without underwear, but that’s probably exactly what he wanted. If you were staying in the barracks, then you might have done it, but being out in public you don’t want to risk a stray breeze. The last thing you need is some alpha seeing it as an opportunity and trying something stupid.

You finish getting ready, drying yourself off and getting dressed before pulling on a pair of comfortable shoes. Your hair is still slightly damp as you make your way out of the barracks, a car pulled up outside as you expected.

“You promise to drive carefully?” John is saying, holding the keys up in front of Johnny.

“Of course.” Johnny says, looking past him to grin at you. “There’s precious cargo on board.”

“I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” John says, giving him a look before dropping the keys into Johnny’s hand. John turns to you, staring down at you for a moment before leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “Let me know when you get there.” He murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

You nod, leaning up to kiss his cheek before getting into the car.

You’re surprised to see Simon sitting in the passenger seat. You had expected maybe Kyle would be tagging along, or even John, but this is something entirely unexpected. He’s in his beanie and face mask combo again, the same thing he’d been wearing when he and John took you to town before your heat.

The night he bought the ingredients to make you enchiladas.

It still brings a warmth to your chest when you think about it, that he did that for you. It had been his idea to do it, his idea to bring you some comfort during the stress and insecurity your approaching heat had brought on. He does care about you, in his own way. He’s been showing it, at least for the most part, looking back on your interactions with him.

He has to care about you, if he’s willing to do this.

It wasn’t his decision, you know that. Johnny was likely forcing him to come along, either to appease John’s concerns, or in case of an incident. Not that Johnny’s not fully capable of handling a situation on his own, but having an alpha at your back makes it less likely someone would try something at all.

The fact John is trusting them with you speaks volumes of his trust in his pack, in his second alpha. You know they won’t let anything happen to you, they’ll protect you just as fiercely as if you were their omega.

You could be, if he wanted it.

You push that thought to the back of your mind as Johnny climbs into the driver's seat, the car rumbling to life.

Johnny isn’t a terrible driver. Despite the many stories you’ve heard over the last few weeks, you had been expecting worse. Kyle had been right, of course, he takes the speed limit as more of a suggestion, and weaves around on the road, passing slower cars and farm equipment in ways that are probably not legal. Despite that, you’re not gripping the seat in fear or holding on for dear life. You had been expecting much worse when he climbed into the driver’s seat.

Though, from what you’ve heard, Johnny is the most preferable of the two in the car when it comes to driving.

The farmlands fade into civilization as the buildings grow closer and closer together. It’s only your fourth trip into town, but yet you’ve already begun to recognize landmarks, businesses. You could navigate if you had to, something you know they’d be proud of. You wonder if Simon would praise you for that, considering how annoyed he always seems to be about how much time you spend lost in your own thoughts.

Johnny pulls into a parking spot on the street, and you send a quick text to John to let him know you made it in one piece. Johnny opens your door for you, offering you a hand. You take it, letting him help you out before he laces your fingers together, squeezing your hand gently.

You’re glad you wore comfortable shoes as you walk around with them, picking up a few items from different shops. Johnny keeps hold of your hand, Simon walking behind the two of you like a protective shadow. The people you pass on the street give you a wide berth, and you know it’s Simon’s doing as their eyes skirt past you and Johnny to the big alpha trailing you. You can imagine the silent threat behind his eyes, daring them to even think of trying anything.

“The last stop.” Johnny says, pausing in front of a familiar storefront.

You’ve been here before, the day of your first date with John when he’d taken your virginity. The lingerie shop where you’d gotten those lacy panties the guys seemed to admire so much. Your cheeks warm as Johnny opens the door for you, the stark reminder of who you’re with suddenly snapping into your mind. This trip definitely was Johnny’s doing. Did he even know this was a stop that you were going to make? If he did, he probably wouldn’t have come along and talked Kyle into it instead.

Or maybe he did know and he did want to come along.

Or, maybe, Johnny pouted at him and begged until he had no choice but to agree.

The answer is likely the latter.

You wonder if he’ll stay outside, or perhaps even return to the car in favor of stepping into a lingerie store. You can’t imagine him inside, the hulking alpha among the delicate lace and fabrics. A bull in a china shop.

You’re surprised when he enters behind you, looking about as uncomfortable as you expected him to in a place like this. His shoulders are squared, hands opening and closing into fists at his sides. He’s looking everywhere but at what’s on the racks, his gaze flicking around the store instead, taking stock of everyone inside shopping.

You let Johnny take the lead, Simon keeping his distance as you peruse the racks. You’re not just there to replenish your quickly dwindling stash of lacy underwear, you realize as Johnny begins flipping through items on the racks. He’s got some other ideas for you as well. You can see the wheels turning in his head, the concentration in his eyes as he looks over his options.

Your face gets warmer and warmer as he holds things up in front of you, studying you and the lingerie. He’s picturing you in it, most likely in lewd positions. You’re close to combusting out of bashfulness, but also from the fire igniting under your veins. You’re trying to keep it under control, trying to keep things as discreet as possible for the sake of the other shoppers in the store. The last thing you want is to draw any unwanted attention and cause a scene.

“That’s definitely the one.” He says, holding up a purple mess of lace and straps. You’re not sure how you’re going to get into it, much less what it will look like while you’re wearing it, but he seems to know what he’s looking at, so you’re not going to contradict him. You might just need his help getting into it, which you’re sure he won’t complain about.

Your skin prickles as you continue to follow Johnny, warning bells going off in the back of your head.

Someone is staring at you.

You lift your gaze from the rack Johnny is flipping through, scanning the store to try and find who it is that’s staring at you so intently. It’s not Simon where he’s lingering against the back wall trying to avoid touching anything like it might infect him with some deadly disease, or give him the mental image of you in it.

The prickling of your skin feels too different from the prickling you usually feel when his gaze is on you. Someone is watching you, yet the shoppers and even the employees in the store are in their own little worlds, going about their business and paying you no mind. You step closer to Johnny, your arm brushing his. It’s not unlike the feeling you get in your room, the idea that there were cameras in there, that there still might be one that you missed. That paranoid tickling down your spine that you might be being watched at any moment.

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, looking up at you as you step even closer to him.

Warmth presses against your back, making you flinch just slightly in surprise. You nearly panic, until the familiar scent of leather and eucalyptus washes over you.

“What is it?” Warm breath fans your ear, calloused fingers ghosting down your bare arm.

“I-I think someone’s watching us.” You say quietly, leaning into both of them.

Both of them straighten up, and you can imagine their gazes scanning the store, profiling every single customer and worker, picking up things you could only dream of noticing. Simon’s fingers wrap around your arm, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to offer a little support as they look for the culprit of your paranoid feelings.

There’s no tickling at the back of your neck signaling your brain picking up on a change to Simon’s emotions. Neither of them seem to pick up on a possible threat. Perhaps it’s all just in your head, some sort of trauma response after being cooped up on base for so long paired with what happened while they were away. There are cameras in the store. You are being watched. Maybe it’s just trauma fueled paranoia after all.

Simon lets go of your arm to step up close to Johnny, speaking quietly to him. You’re not listening, your eyes scanning the store again. You slide closer to Simon, the prickling feeling of being watched gone now. Your hand lifts, fingers wrapping around his forearm, his skin warm under your touch. You’ve never been quite this close to him, this physical, that wasn’t out of necessity before. It’s exciting, the prospect of being so open with him. Just the thought that he noticed your discomfort, picked up on your worry like that makes your omega want to roll over and show her belly.

“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his eyes flickering between you and Simon.

Your gaze snaps back to him, and you nod without even thinking about it. “Yeah.”

“You two go an’ pick out some new skids, I’m almost done.” He says. They must not have noticed anything worthy of being concerned about, nothing that could lead them to thinking there’s a threat.

It’s just like what happened that morning when you asked Simon to open the door to your room all over again.

Suddenly the mood shifts back to what it was at Johnny’s words, Simon shifting uncomfortably next to you. You can feel his muscles flex under your hand as he clenches his fists, letting out a long breath.

You shake off the paranoia and the worry, putting your trust in them should something happen. You drop your hand from his forearm to his wrist, tugging lightly on his arm. “Come on. They’re just panties. They don’t bite.” You grin teasingly up at him.

“Bloody hell.” He groans before letting you tug him over to the section of the store with the underwear.

You find the ones that you had gotten before, grabbing one in every color. Simon stands to the side like a guard dog, arms crossed, trying to look as manly as possible amongst the lace and ribbons. You pick up a couple more in Johnny’s favorite color, the beta approaching you both.

“Look what I found.” He grins wickedly, holding up a pair of panties.

You nearly choke as you stare at them, Simon shifting just slightly behind you. In Johnny’s hands are a pair of black cheeky panties with lace edges. They wouldn’t be anything special, had it not been for the skull pattern on the fabric.

Your face warms as you stare at them, the meaning not lost on you. Of course Johnny would find something like that in a store with probably hundreds of pairs of underwear. You can’t help but think he might have been looking for something like that this whole time.

Johnny steps up to you, turning you around to face Simon. His back brushes your chest as he wraps his arms around you, holding the panties up in front of your chest.

You wish you could see Simon’s face. All of his face. His jaw is clenched, his eyes burning as he stares at the underwear in Johnny’s hands. His whole body is tense, the tendons and muscles in his forearms bulging from how tightly he’s clenching his muscles. A bead of sweat runs down your back from the intensity of his stare, his gaze shifting from the underwear to your face. They flicker back and forth, almost like he doesn’t quite know which is worse to look at: you or the panties.

His body tenses even more, his gaze finally settling on the underwear. He’s imagining you in them. You can see it, the way his eyes get darker and darker, his scent thickening. Several thoughts run through your head as you stare at him, your stomach fluttering as you suddenly come to a realization. You lift your hands, taking the underwear from Johnny, continuing to hold it in front of your chest.

“Fucking hell...” Simon breathes, his hands dropping to his sides, still tightly closed into fists.

“Would...” You clear your throat, trying to shake the waver from your voice. “Would you like to see me in them?”

His gaze snaps to yours, and it nearly has you running for cover. He looks like he wants to simultaneously devour you and bend you over the nearest table. The primal urge to run tickles in the back of your brain, to run and let him chase you.

He looks like he would do it, too.

Have you been misreading his actions towards you? You never thought he’d feel like that about you. Was his reluctant tolerance, his drive to keep you at arm’s length less because he disliked you, and more because he likes you too much?

His behavior and his actions begin to make sense the more you think about it. He’s not keeping you at arm's distance because he doesn't like you, because he doesn’t think you don’t belong with them. He’s not afraid of the weakness you might cause in the pack, the disruption you’ve brought to their lives. He’s afraid of how you’re making him feel.

Has he ever been in love? Has he ever held feelings for another before Johnny? Did he even want to have feelings for Johnny in the first place, or did Johnny force his way in until Simon finally accepted he can’t change the way he feels?

You’re not trying to invoke that kind of response from him. You’ve respected his boundaries, kept him at arm’s distance as much as you could to try and avoid making him hate you, to try and avoid ruining all the work you’ve put into just making him accept you as part of the pack.

Maybe you had been trying in all the wrong ways.

All the things he did for you, all the ways he treated you suddenly make sense. His disappointment at your neglecting him on the tarmac should have made it obvious to you.

Hell, he’d let you spoon him the very next morning like it was nothing.

Does he want to be your second alpha? Even if he doesn’t, does he want to push past that barrier and open up to that kind of relationship with you? The bond you have with him is hardly even platonic, a weak thread connecting you built out of proximity and interaction. The bond you have with Dr. Keller is stronger, and she’s not even part of your pack.

Does he want to build that bond with you?

Looking at him has your body warming, a fire igniting under your skin. You can’t handle it anymore, the intensity of his stare threatening to make you do something indecent in this lingerie shop.

You turn to face Johnny, certain steam has to be rising off your body at this point. You shove the pile of panties into his hands, including the one with skulls on them. “We’re getting them.” You say, trying to ignore the grin pulling at his lips.

You take half a second to breathe as the tension in the air is cut off, another shopper passing by, giving the three of you a look. You’re sure you’re projecting your scent, and you can imagine just how much Simon’s scent has taken over the store.

Johnny carries the armful of lingerie to the checkout and you follow behind him, Simon bending down to whisper something in his ear before heading for the door. You watch him step outside, moving until he��s just visible through the glass from the register. You have half a mind to follow him, half a mind to confront him and ask him for an explanation, ask him why he felt it necessary to hold you at arm’s length when there’s a chance he’s been feeling this way the whole time.

You don’t, instead sticking close to Johnny’s side as he pays far too much for the lingerie. Your heart is still racing from the exchange with Simon, your hands shaking just a little as Johnny hands you the bag. His hand is warm on your back as he guides you from the store, Simon turning as you approach him.

“Let’s grab somethin’ to eat, then we’ll go.” Johnny says, leading you back towards the car.

“We need to talk.”

You almost turn tail and run as Simon’s gaze snaps up to meet yours. He sits there, frozen for just a moment, before he slowly lowers his phone, sliding it into his sweatshirt pocket. You don’t sit down on the couch next to him, instead you remain standing, wanting to keep the energy in the room in your favor. You know if you sit, your brain will slip into submission to the large alpha. At least looking down on him, you have more of a chance at keeping that illusion of dominance.

“I want to know how long.” You say, taking half a step closer to him, one foot planted, the other half raised, ready to bolt in case this goes south. “I want to know how long you’ve had feelings for me.”

His gaze hardens as he stares up at you, and despite your position of dominance, you wish he’d take off his mask just so you could read his face, read his reactions. You can’t back down, though. Not now, not when things have come to a head between you. There’s no going back, there’s no playing pretend anymore. You can’t move on after the events earlier in the lingerie shop.

“I want to know the truth.” You say, not backing down. You won’t submit to him so easily this time.

“When you punched that asshole Corporal.” He says, looking away from you to stare at the black screen of the television. “Allen. Proved you weren’t just some weak, pathetic omega that was only going to slow us down, make us work twice as hard to keep you alive.” He snorts softly. “That first night with Johnny.” He continues, his voice softer than it had been. “That’s when it changed. He yapped the whole morning about what happened, what you two did, like a bloody slag.”

Your face warms at the idea of Johnny spilling all the intimate details. It doesn’t upset you as much as it probably should, though it wasn’t like they couldn’t all hear it happening. Simon especially, sharing a wall with him. He probably could have recounted the whole thing himself if he’d wanted to.

“I wanted to hate you. Fucking tried so hard to, but you make it so bloody hard.” He shakes his head. “I’m not supposed to.”

A frown pulls at your brows as you listen to him. As an alpha in the pack, he technically could if he wanted to. You’re certain John wouldn’t have a problem with it, in fact he might encourage it, if it gets rid of the stick that’s been up Simon’s ass since your arrival, or maybe even before then.

“I-I don’t understand.” You say, stepping closer to him.

“I can’t.” He snaps, wheeling around to face you. You freeze in your approach, your weight shifting back in case you need to run. “I can’t.” He repeats, his voice softer, the tenseness in his shoulders deflating as he diverts his gaze. “It’s too dangerous.”

Your frown deepens as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll only hurt you.” He shakes his head.

You understand it now. Those four words have given you all the explanation you need to understand his hesitation, his predicament, why it’s taken him this long to openly admit his feelings, to accept them.

You bravely continue your approach until you’re standing right next to him. His gaze is anywhere but on you, seeming very small despite his hulking size. “You’re not going to hurt me.” You say, slowly reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “I know you won’t. If...if you’re worried about turning out like your father, then that’s enough proof that you won’t. You know, you’re aware, so you can stop it.” He goes to turn away, but you stop him, catching his wrist in your hand. “We don’t have to. If you’re not comfortable enough then that’s okay. I have that need filled plenty.” You plop down on the couch next to him as you lift his hand to your face, pressing his bare palm into your skin. “But I wouldn’t stop you, if you wanted to.”

His hand is big and warm as it slowly relaxes against your face. His eyes meet yours, staring deep into them. You stare right back, not letting his size or the intensity of his gaze force you to submit. His thumb drags along your cheekbone, his calluses scratching across your skin, but that’s a feeling you’ve become very used to. You press your hand against his, your fingers trembling just slightly from the emotion and the intensity of the moment.

“It’s not just me that might hurt you. I’ve made enemies, people that would do anything to get back at me.” He says quietly.

You shrug. “So does everyone in this pack. That was a risk I was made well aware of before I was sent here. That’s why I don’t know jack shit about what any of you do. That’s why I’m basically non-existent and invisible except to a select few. I used to think about it, when I first arrived here. What if something happened to me because of your jobs? What if someone found out about me?” You shrug again, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand. “That’s a risk we all signed up for, right?”

He stares at you for a while, his hand still pressed against your cheek. You wish you could read his mind, see the thoughts turning those wheels behind his eyes. You wish he was an open book, something you could breeze right through like the ones on the shelves. Instead, he might be the most closed off person you’ve ever met. You’ve never even seen his face

Slowly he begins leaning forward, his gaze never leaving yours. If it hadn’t been for the mask, you might have thought he was leaning in for a kiss. You might have leaned in for a kiss, had he not been wearing the mask. Instead he leans forward until your foreheads are touching, his gaze finally leaving yours as his eyes flutter closed. You finally relax yourself, melting into him slightly as you sit there, breathing in the quiet moment. Something’s shifting, something’s changing between the two of you.

You’re not quite sure how it’s going to end, but you can’t deny the bond beginning to form between you and Simon.

NEXT ->

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut

@fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites

@kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos

@konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13

@anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry

@red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving

@slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

@sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164

@mirzamsaiph @xlxnq @chickennn-soupp

#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #Simon Riley x reader #John price x reader #captain price x reader #Kyle gaz Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #John soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse

3K notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 3 months ago

Text

Out of My Head

Pairing: Chubby Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky feels a bit insecure during a romantic evening and you do your best to get him out of his head.

Word Count: Over 2.6k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, a/b/o dynamics, insecurities, self-doubt, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's crazy about you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @missvelvetsstuff, @honeyglee (chubby!Bucky), and @bucksbabee (rose petals) all requested for alpha!Bucky to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #27 and #32 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wanted tonight to be romantic. Candles, rose petals, the works. Not for any sort of special occasion, but because his omega deserved only the best. Day in and day out. He hoped it was enough to make you feel loved and adored. It was a wonder that you were with an alpha like him.

If you looked inside his head, you’d tell him there was no reason for him to think he wasn't the perfect man for you. That he was a good partner and alpha. Had been from the start. That you loved him. And you did. You never once gave him a reason to doubt that.

If only he could push away the negative voice in his mind that seemed determined to bring him down tonight.

“Bucky?”

Tilting his head, everything around him became muted as he focused on you. Laying on your side with your naked body exposed to him, he watched the candlelight cast a glow upon your skin. Both of you lost your clothes earlier in the evening, content to lay beside each other for the time being. He wished some days that you didn't have to wear clothes at all. You and your body were made to be worshiped.

Unlike him.

Bucky almost covered himself up with the blanket. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but he was soft in places where he was once firm. While he had been on the thicker side for years, he now had some pudge to go along with it. Handsome or not, he just wasn't in the same shape he used to be when he was younger. What if one day you didn’t like that? What if you wanted someone different? Stronger?

Better?

“You're thinking too hard again,” you said, picking up one of the rose petals to brush across his forehead. He smiled when he realized you traced a heart. “I can feel it.”

He inhaled your scent to ground himself. Orange, cinnamon, honey. The aroma of you made his mouth water. It comforted him, too. He hadn't associated any kind of smell with a sense of home until you.

“I’m thinking about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled, nuzzling into your pillow more as you gazed at him. “What about me?”

“Just how amazing you are,” he answered.

When he looked into your eyes the first time, he expected to see his imperfections staring back at him like they had with so many others. But the way you looked at him with kindness, acceptance, and want, everything fell into place. Pieces of himself he didn’t know were missing found their way back to him and made him while again. His heart didn't stand a chance.

It belonged to you.

Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.

How is that possible? How does a goddess want me? What the hell is wrong with me tonight?

“You know you look at me some days like I'm not even real?” You asked, reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. He moaned and turned his head to nose along your wrist. He craved your touch and scent like nothing else. “Like you're in some sort of a dream and you're afraid you're going to wake up if you look away.”

“Because you’re everything I could ever want. You occupy every single thought in my head, and every single dream,” he whispered. Even his dreams couldn't come up with someone as amazing as you. “And maybe I am afraid that this isn't real.”

Your brows pinched. “Why is that?”

He leaned over to kiss your forehead, wanting to ease the worry from your face. “I’m not sure. You just seem too good to be true and it feels like I might wake up to find you gone. Or that one day…” He rested back, swallowing hard. “You’ll decide you just don't want me anymore.”

You whined, a distraught sound that broke his heart. He wanted to take back those words, but he didn’t want to hide his feelings no matter how much it hurt to talk about them. “Bucky, I’m not going anywhere.” You shook your head vehemently as you sat up. “And I want you. I always do. Why would you ever think I wouldn't want you?”

“Because look at me.” He waved his hand over his torso, averting his gaze as if to hide his vulnerability. “How can someone like you want someone like me?”

He wanted to take the words back the moment they left his mouth when another wounded whine spilled from your lips. You placed your hands on his cheeks and brought his gaze back to you. There was mist over your eyes like you were going to cry and he wanted to chase that look away. “How can I want you? Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? How wonderful you are?” You kept a hand on his face as the other slid down to his neck. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

His eyes slowly opened. He hadn't realized he shut them. “Doll, I’m sorry. I-”

“You're perfect. Inside and out. And don't say you aren't because you're perfect to me.” There was a hint of a growl on your tone as your hand moved lower. Well, as much of a growl as an omega could muster. You defended him so fiercely. “No one takes care of me the way you do. No one loves me the way you do. I’m the luckiest person in the world because I get to call you my mate.”

A strangle moan escaped when your hand brushed along his stomach. He never thought it would feel so sensitive, but no one else has really touched it since he got bigger. Except for you. “Omega.”

“You think you aren’t everything I want?” You tilted your head so he could see the mark he left. His chest swelled with pride. You never covered it up or put a collar over it, wanting everyone to see that you were claimed. He had a mark, too.

He was yours just as much as you were his.

“I know in my heart that you want me, I know that. I can feel that. But my head keeps reminding me tonight that I’m just bigger than I used to be and I have no idea why,” he said, shutting his eyes again. “It’s stupid.”

Why was his body such an issue this evening? This was supposed to be romantic, not a time to pick at his inner wounds. Maybe there was a reason he wasn't aware of. Maybe he needed to cut the wounds open so the warmth of your bond could slowly heal them.

“It isn’t stupid. Your feelings are never stupid, do you hear me? And you being bigger? Isn't that just more of you that I get to love?” There was no disgust or judgment as you rubbed his stomach again. Your sincerity almost made him choke up when he opened his eyes to gaze at you. “Bucky, believe me when I say that this isn’t a dream. This is real. I'm real and I love you. I’ll love you no matter what. That is never going to change.”

His chest rumbled at your declaration and he couldn't help but reach for you, needing to feel your body close. “I love you, too.”

He closed his eyes again when you pressed your lips to his. The bond crackled with your affection and care before his tongue slipped past your lips. The crackling intensified, your desire and need flowing into him like molten lava. It was going to burn him alive. He’d gladly perish that way.

Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry.

“Feel this,” you urged when you broke the kiss, putting his hand over your heart.

“Is that for me?” He asked as it raced under his touch.

“It’s only for you, Bucky,” you promised, slowly guiding his hand down your body. “Now feel this.”

You didn't stop until his hand rested between your thighs. “And that’s for me?” He growled as he touched your pussy, your slick coating his fingers.

You gasped and he half expected you to agree that it was, but you pulled away. He tried not to let his insecurities bubble back up and hoped his scent didn't change to something unpleasant. You assured him that he was perfect in your eyes. That you wanted him. And loved him. But it didn't mean you had to-

“It’s for you. Only you,” you said, turning toward the front of the bed to press your chest against it. “See, alpha?”

Bucky sat up as you raised your hips higher and presented yourself to him. He growled softly as he licked away the wetness from his fingers and eyed your twitching, slick-drenched hole. The blood that roared in his ears quickly rushed south and the beast inside snarled at the insecure voice to not say another word. You wanted him. Would always want him. You assured him of that with both your words and your body.

“Take a good look. It’s such a pretty hole for you to ruin. You want to ruin it, don't you? Ruin me?” You asked sweetly, briefly lifting your head to look over your shoulder. The blue around Bucky’s pupils shrank to a small ring, barely visible from how aroused he was at the sight of you. “Please, wreck me. Make me say your name.”

He had a hand wrapped around his cock, the alpha within him clawing to break through the surface. Biology would've screamed at any alpha to take you. Knot you. Breed you. But you didn’t want just any alpha. Wouldn't beg for just any alpha.

He was the alpha you chose.

“And you know that isn’t my instinct talking since I’m not in heat. This is me wanting you, Bucky Barnes,” you said as if you read his mind, snaking a hand between your legs. He almost wished you were on your back so he could play with your beautiful breasts, but he had all night to do so. “I’m so wet for you and so empty. I’m aching. You don’t even have to prep me. Just get in me. Take me.”

You gasped when he was suddenly behind you, his large body draped over yours. “That’s my pussy you're touching, omega,” he growled, pinning you down by the neck. “And I’m the only one getting you off tonight.”

“Yes, alpha,” you purred.

His belly rubbed against you as he raised your hips an inch higher and he tensed up only for a moment before he realized you pushed back against him, trying to take him in. He growled as he sat back and looked down at you, your body quivering from the low and feral sound. Deeply inhaling, he could taste your lust and love on his tongue from how strong it was. As much as he wanted to dive down and devour you, he needed to fill you up and leave his mark inside you once again.

“Not just gonna ruin you with my cock,” he said, brushing the thick head of his cock between your folds. “Gonna ruin you with my mouth after. Make your flood it with that sweet slick and drink it down ‘til you scream how much you love me.”

“Yes. Please, alpha. I want your cock. Your mouth. Anything,” you begged, keeping your head down when he folded over you again. You didn’t fear his size or weight crushing you. It excited you. He could smell it.

“You need me?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Say my name.”

You whimpered when he pressed himself against your entrance. He tried to go slow since he hadn’t prepped you, but you could take him. “I need you. Only you, Bucky,” you sighed, trembling as he pushed in an inch more.

He gasped out your name, powerless to resist the pull as he sank as deep inside you as he could. His eyes fluttered when you clenched around him. Nothing felt as good as your slick cunt. Tight, but opened up for him so beautifully. And nothing else mattered or existed outside of you.

“Move, please. Don’t hold back,” you moaned.

Overwhelming pleasure flowed through him as his body blanketed yours. You embraced every part of him and he wanted to smother you with his scent. “Remember, omega, you begged for this.”

Whatever sense of control he had disappeared as he thrust, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his grunts a stark contrast to the romantic setting of the room. You couldn't push your hips back, but your pussy welcomed each movement as you cried out. Even with his vicious thrusts, it was somehow sensual when he nuzzled your neck.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Yours,” you moaned.

He hadn't known he said the words aloud, too lost in his primal haze. By the sounds of your moans and feel of your clenching walls, you were close already. It pleased him knowing how much he pleased you. He wanted to draw it out, make it last. He also wanted to bring you over the edge again and again.

“Does that feel good? You love getting fucked by your big, strong mate?” He grunted, heat pulsing through his veins.

“Yes. So strong,” you whimpered, reaching back to grip his hair. “So big.”

He groaned, raw pleasure bubbling through every part of his body. “Yeah, I'm big and you love it. And you love my cock ruining your pretty hole?”

“Yes, Bucky. I, hmm, love your cock.” You mewled when his teeth scraped along your skin. “Love you.”

He nosed along your neck again, slipping a hand beneath your body. “Then show my cock how much you love me,” he ordered, teasing your swollen clit. “Come all over it.”

You screamed his name as promised, slick gushing as you spasmed around him. He didn't stop, his hips snapping faster and harder as you shook through it. To feel you let go and hear those sounds of ecstasy as you rode out the waves was an honor. He needed to join you on the ride.

“Such a good omega. My omega. Gonna fill you up. So. Fucking. Good.” He growled the last word as he spilled inside you, panting with his release. The sensations blended with your earlier words, surrounding him in bliss. You were bliss.

Careful not to crush or jolt you, he rolled to his side and took you with him as he stayed nestled inside you. He murmured praise against your skin as you snuggled back against him. He didn't want to leave your body just yet. Not when you felt so good. Not when the terrible voice remained quiet.

About time you shut the fuck up and let me enjoy the evening with my mate.

“Better?” You breathed, looking over your shoulder with hopeful eyes.

Both of your hearts racing still, your purr mixed with his rumble, he wondered why he was so bothered before since his insecurities weren't a constant thing. Everyone had their off days though, including you. Sometimes for no concrete reason at all. That was life, but he couldn't ask for a better partner and mate to help him through the ups and downs, big or small.

“Much better. Thank you,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. “But one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

He wrapped his arm tighter around you and didn't flinch as his stomach pressed more against your back. “I love you, too.”

Always, my sweet omega.

And should you ever doubt his want or love for you, he’d be sure to assure you the way you did for him.

Lovelies, I was TERRIFIED to post this, but I'm in love with them. Maybe we'll see them again? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

929 notes · View notes

p0ckykiss · 6 days ago

Text

prank gone wrong - nishimura riki

summary -> ni-ki's silly april fool's prank sends you to the hospital

-> established relationship

the prank had gone too far.

in retrospect, niki should probably have checked everything before messing around with the food.

as a result, you had to be taken to the hospital due to food poisoning and niki feels horrible now. it turns out that some of the ingredients niki used were past their due date for months and, although they smelled just fine, they were not supposed to be eaten at all.

and you, being you, didn’t check and just wolfed down what was given to you. niki’s plan for his april fool’s prank was just mixing up something that tasted bad but looked like it was good. he didn’t try it though and you ate the whole thing, saying it was not bad at all, have you been practicing? with a smile on your lips.

the result was disastrous. your friend had taken you to the hospital himself - and has just now asked niki to stay and keep you company.

as it seems, you had fallen asleep due to the nausea medicine you were given, and the doctor said you could leave as soon as you wake up since you’re all good now but it’s taking longer than expected.

“i’ll just get a taxi to the company,” he says to niki and gives him the car keys. “you drive back safely and let me know when you make it there.”

he only nods and hope the face he’s making is a thankful one because he had panicked when you suddenly stood up from the couch and ran to the bathroom ten minutes after eating the “food” he made and your friend had to step in and take the reins.

“thanks,” niki finally mumbles something but he is already gone.

niki is sitting down on a bench that’s not so far from the room you are sleeping in right now. he would’ve gone in, but he sent your friend instead. it was a shared room and only one visitor per patient was allowed, niki didn’t want to face you yet.

now he’s the one in charge and, although he wants to stall their reunion, niki stands up and takes slow steps until he’s standing in front of the door.

the nurses are taking care of the patient on the end of the room and you are still sound asleep, chest heaving up and down calmly and niki sighs in relief.

no one pays him attention and he shyly sits down on the stool placed right by your bed.

niki stares at the hand sliding down the mattress and is about to reach out when you pull it back under the bedsheets.

niki looks up to glance at your peaceful sleeping face but is met with a glare.

“were you trying to kill me?” you ask, eyes still trained on niki’s face.

“why would I try to kill you?” he stutters back at you, nervously rubbing his hands together. “i’d never do that.”

you huff.

“you were eagerly offering me what you made,” you explain and niki sighs at least twice before covering his face with both hands. “i thought you were trying to get rid of me.”

“it was supposed to be a harmless prank,” niki whispers and doesn’t dare look you in the eye. “i didn’t know the food was not good anymore and it was not aimed at you. my plan was giving it to the first person who showed up in the kitchen, it just happened to be you.”

“so it was not a targeted attack on me?” you whisper and niki looks up when he hears soft laughter. “i won’t hold it against you then.”

“i’m really sorry,” niki pouts and jumps up when he sees you are sitting up. he tries to help you up and gets his hands slapped away.

you glare at him.

“it was just food poisoning”

you leave the bed and fold the bedsheets, niki watches in silence. “it’s not like you ran over me with a car. i can walk and do things by myself just fine. i’m fine now but you’re lucky i’m not too mad right now.”

oh god, if you were bedridden because of that, niki would not hear the end of it.

in amidst his thinking, you leave niki for a second to ask something to a nurse who’s in the room and come back quickly.

“she said we can leave and that I’m dismissed,” you say solemnly, gathering your belongings that were on the small table by the bed and urging niki out of the room. “i just need to hand this clipboard at the front desk before we exit the hospital.”

you wave said clipboard in front of niki’s eyes and takes large steps out of the room and towards the front desk. you were on the ground floor, so everything was done fast, with niki only watching as you do all the talking with the staff.

“how are we going back to the apartment?” you ask as soon as you both are out of the hospital. the wind that hits your faces is cold and niki is reminded that although winter has ended, the chilly weather still remains and he shivers, buttoning his overcoat up. he turns to look at you and feels terrible because you only have a thin sweater on since you left the dorms in a rush, there was no time or space to think about grabbing a jacket for you.

without thinking, niki unbuttons his overcoat and hands it to you and earns himself a funny look from you.

“what are you doing?” you ask, brow raised, and lips pressed together in a straight line.

“trying to be a nice boyfriend after almost killing you,” niki mutters, shoving the overcoat in your hands. “your friend left us with the car but it’s parked a little far,” he starts walking in the direction he remembers it is.

they walk in silence and niki smiles to himself when he sees you have decided to wear his warm overcoat, the sky blue one he loves the most.

the car is parked five blocks from where they were and niki is rubbing his hands against his arms when they finally reach it, teeth clattering and shivering with his whole body.

“you’re an idiot,” you say before entering the vehicle, claiming the passenger’s seat.

“i’m an idiot,” niki confirms once he’s inside the car as well, sighing in relief at the lack of the cold wind but still trying to warm himself up. “are you hungry?”

you hum and put a hand under your chin.

“are you going to cook for me again? because if so, then i don’t think i’m hungry,” you say and laugh at your own words.

niki is sure his ears are red now, he feels them burning hot, but he can’t blame you for joking like that. “but if you’re going to buy something on our way to the apartment and if you’re paying, then I am hungry.”

niki sighs for the nth time and you stifle a laugh.

“are you paying or not?” you say, reaching out to hold niki’s hand that’s frozen on the steering wheel. “do you need me to drive or something?”

“you don’t even have a driver’s license,” niki replies alarmed and turns to give you a look.

“that was a trick question to make sure you’re here with me and not somewhere in your own head,” you tell niki and squeeze his hand with a smile on your lips. the smile comforts niki who was still tense, thinking about the whole incident with regret. “i hope you’re not feeling too bad about what happened.”

“i am feeling bad but,” niki laughs and finally starts the car, turning the heating on maximum and already thinking of where he can stop by for food. “i’m also feeling scared and a little threatened. please don’t get back at me for attempting to prank you.”

you burst out laughing and niki turns to look at you, a shiver runs down his spine. you have a mischievous glint in your eyes, something is brewing in that ingenious brain of yours and all niki knows is that he’s screwed.

482 notes · View notes

puckinghischier · 4 months ago

Text

Falling

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader gets hurt and nico is worried about her

notes: y’all i ain’t gonna lie, i went through a bit of a rollercoaster while writing this. i loved it at first, then halfway through started hating it, then somehow started loving it again towards the end. so if it seems a little all over place i’m sorry. also i know very little about how a dislocated shoulder works, so just pretended i didn’t if i got anything wrong. i hope y’all enjoy it!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “A hears that B got hurt and rushes over in a panic to see if they are okay” where reader maybe gets in an accident or gets hurt in their sport (nothing major). Bonus points if you add “I can braid your hair for you- I mean, only if you want.”

[4.5k]

part 2

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Nothing’s broken, just a nasty dislocation,” you attempt to calm your mother’s nerves, trying to unlock your apartment door with your good arm while balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder. “They reset it for me and told me to follow up with my primary care on Monday. Gave me some pain meds and sent me on my way.”

“Well, what about until then? What if you need help? What about work? How will you drive?” she rapid fires questions at you.

“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Since it was a work-related injury, I’ll still get paid. And they’re paying all of the medical bills, so that’s all taken care of,” you make your way into your apartment, shutting the door with your foot behind you. “Everything else I’ll handle as it comes.”

She doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer, tsking into her phone, making you picture her trademark displeased headshake.

“What about Nico? Why don’t you stay with him until you’re back to 100%? I’m sure he’d be willing to help out,” she suggests, her tone switching from worried to suggestive.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed.

“Mom, how many times do I have to tell you, Nico and I are just friends. We work together. Just because you think you saw him look at me a certain way when you were visiting doesn’t mean I have to call him every time something goes wrong,” you tell her, placing your bag on your kitchen table.

Ever since your mom came in a few months ago to visit, she’s been on your case about making a move on Nico, it all starting when she witnessed Nico helping you across the ice during a pre-game practice while trying to get some action shots.

You work as a photographer for the Devils, not realizing that being able to ice skate would have been a nice addition to your resume.

Your college advisor arranged the interview for you right before graduation. You had no previous knowledge of hockey, having come from a football family. You told your advisor this, but she insisted you didn’t have to know anything about a sport to be able to take good pictures of it.

During the interview, you made sure to inform your now boss that you didn’t know how to skate, hoping it wouldn’t be a problem. He assured you that you could take pictures from the stands or the players bench, the chance of you having to step onto the ice slim.

For the first few months of your job, it was smooth sailing. You were mostly taking pictures from the camera holes in the glass or being told to cover locker room and arrival pictures. You worked with one other photographer, a seasoned sports photography veteran named Phil. Phil was a New Jersey native, having grown up skating, so he took over the duties of any major action shots the director wanted from on the ice.

Unfortunately for you, Phil’s wife had convinced him to retire early, losing his help right before the league’s short Christmas break.

Seeing as they had just hired you, and it was the middle of the season, the hunt for a replacement for Phil was put on the backburner, more important team matters taking precedence.

You were forced to take over Phil’s duties, meaning you were now responsible for any on the ice shots. You had found a way to slowly scoot across the perimeter of the rink, staying out of the way while also getting the shots you needed.

Your system was working well until the morning of a gameday, having gotten permission from your boss to bring your mother along to this particular practice, wanting to show her all aspects of your job.

For this particular game, the players were especially focused on practicing their skills and running drills during morning skate. You were doing your typical shuffle while clutching the edge of the waist-high wall when someone came zooming past you, causing your feet to start sliding uncontrollably, not being able to find your footing on the slick ice.

You felt the moment you were about to fall, waiting for the impact of your butt on the cold ice, but it never came. You felt yourself fall into a body covered by plastic pads, gloved hands shooting out to grab your upper arms.

You looked up, seeing Nico smiling down at you in amusement.

“It’s a bit slippery out here, huh?” he jokes, making sure you’re standing steady on your feet before letting go of you.

“Well, we are standing on ice, so….” You trail off, grabbing onto the wooden ledge again, preventing another near fall.

Nico laughs, looking down and shuffling his skates back and forth.

“Well would you look at that? We are on ice ” He flashes a smile, looking back up at you.

You stick your tongue out at him, earning another chuckle from the team’s Captain.

“You know, most people use these great things called ice skates when they try to walk on ice,” he tells you, lifting one skate up for emphasis.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff out a “Oh wow, why didn’t I ever think of that?”

“Just some food for thought,” Nico shrugged as he placed his foot back down on the ice, skating in a little circle, as if to say “See, told you so.”

You let go of the ledge to cross your arms, forgetting that you needed the stability. When you try to shift your weight from one leg to the other, you lose your footing again, this time falling forward into Nico. You let the camera in your hands fall, grabbing onto his biceps to stay upright, thankful for the camera strap around your neck.

His hands shoot out to grab your forearms.

“You know the sad thing is, even with the skates, I’d still be as clumsy, considering I have absolutely no idea how to use them,” you tell him, the two of you still holding on to one another.

Nico shakes his head at you, placing one of your hands on his forearm, moving you from in front of him to beside of him.

He starts slowly skating towards the bench while you shuffle your feet along, putting all of your focus on keeping yourself upright until you reach your destination.

When you finally reach the bench, you step off of the ice and let out a breath of relief.

“Thanks, Cap. Would’ve hated to make a fool of myself out there while my mom’s watching,” you thank him, looking over to where your mom sits, a smile on her face.

Nico follows your gaze and waves to your mom, matching her smile.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we? What if she found out her daughter was a skating fraud?” he teases, leaning in to whisper the last two words.

“It’s her fault for never taking me to the rink my town would throw up once a year at Christmas. Who knows, maybe I would’ve been a skating prodigy if given the chance,” you shrug.

A mischievous smile makes its way onto his face. “I think we should put that theory to the test,” he tells you, causing your eyes to latch onto his.

“Come again?” You raise your eyebrows and tilt your chin down.

“I mean, I can’t have some photographer out on my ice during practices that can’t even stand up,” he keeps his tone light, making sure you know he’s just teasing, “So, I’m going to teach you how to skate, and see if you really would have been a skating prodigy.”

He skates off, winking before resuming his practice.

You don’t have a chance to speak to him again until after the game, when you get at text from an unknown number reading “Rink, tomorrow, 2pm. I’ll bring skates, just bring your prodigy skills.”

After that, you meet with Nico twice a week for skating lessons.

The two of you quickly form a friendship, Nico bringing you coffee on gamedays and you slipping him snacks on the bench during games. You even started inviting him over for dinner after your lessons, insisting the least you can do is feed him to repay him for preventing you from making a fool of yourself on the ice.

Today, however, you did make a fool of yourself on the ice.

You were standing behind the net, telling the players to skate towards you so you could get some shots for the team’s Instagram account by request of the social media manager.

Once you were pleased with the amount of shots you had gotten, you left your spot from behind the net, skating slowly towards the benches, still a little wobbly on your skates.

You were looking down at your camera, thinking of how you’ll have to get Nico out here after the game to get some shots, knowing he’s currently doing pre-game interviews in the locker room.

You weren’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the pucks littering the ice in front of you, skating right into one and losing your balance, holding your camera up with one arm while trying to catch yourself with the other.

You felt the way your shoulder shifted, crying out in pain as players turned and started rushing towards you on the ice.

The team doctor came out and told you he was pretty sure your shoulder was simply dislocated, but sent you to the hospital to make sure nothing’s broken.

The ER doctor confirmed your diagnosis, putting your shoulder back into place before pumping you full of pain meds and placing your arm into a sling.

Which leads you to where you are now, back at your apartment, explaining to your mother why Nico can’t be at your beck and call.

“Honey, when are you going to realize that boy is in love with you? I’m telling you, the way I saw him look at you that day I came to visit, the skating lessons and dinners,” she starts, giving you her typical speech when you tell her Nico is just a friend.

“Mom, it doesn’t matter what you think you saw, we’re seriously just friends. And he’s busy, his schedule is too hectic to spend his time babysitting me,” you interrupt her, not wanting to hear her Nico speech for the thousandth time, regretting ever telling her about the skating lessons.

She sighs into the phone.

“I’m just trying to help you, you know…” you hear your mother start, but you tune the rest of her words out, focusing on the three loud knocks on your front door.

Your head turns to your door, the unexpected noise causing you to jump, the sudden motion tipping your bag over, the contents spilling all of your kitchen floor.

“Honey, are you alright? What was that?” your mom halts her one-sided conversation, worry in her tone.

“Shit!” you exclaim, watching the container of memory cards fly open, the small squares sliding across the linoleum floor.

You forget about the sling on your arm, crouching down and trying to reach for the cards with your bad arm, a searing pain shooting through your shoulder at the movement.

Letting out a loud yelp, you bring your arm back to its resting positing in the sling.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Did you hurt yourself?” you barely hear your mother’s voice through the phone speaker, not being able to think about anything other than the throbbing pain in your shoulder.

You hear three more pounds on your front door, this time a voice following the knocks.

“Y/N! Open up!”

You groan, trying to stand up, too many people trying to get your attention at the moment.

“Honey, talk to me. Is someone in there with you? I heard another voice,” your mother asks you as you stand, making your way over towards your front door.

“Someone’s knocking on the door,” you grit through your teeth, trying to think about anything but the pain in your shoulder. “I dropped my bag and tried to pick something up with my bad arm. I’m fine. Just hurts,” you tell her, opening your door to see a frantic Nico standing there.

His wide eyes scan your body, stopping once they see the sling on your arm.

You notice his wet hair and lack of socks on his tennis shoe covered feet.

“Are you okay? They told me you had to be taken to the hospital before the game started, but no one knew what really happened,” he rushed out, looking up at your face.

“Hey, Mom, gotta go, Nico’s at my door,” you tell her, a little stunned that the object of your conversation just appeared, hanging up the phone before she could make any comments about it.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you ask him, pointing towards his feet, an amused smile on your face. The shock of seeing him at your door making you completely forget about the pain in your shoulder.

Nico looks down at his own feet, looking back up at you with red cheeks.

“Oh, uh, I couldn’t find my socks after the game and i couldn’t get you to answer your phone, so I rushed over to the hospital to see if you were still there, and they told me you left about an hour ago, so I hopped in my car and came over here to make sure you were okay,” he tells you, not meeting your eye.

You’re shocked at his confession, not expecting him to be so concerned about your impromptu trip to the hospital.

“Well, I’m here and still standing,” you awkwardly stand in your doorway, not knowing what else to say, thinking about how if you weren’t arguing with your mom over Nico on the phone, you might have gotten his calls.

“Yeah, I see that now,” he shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

The two of you stand there, not really knowing what to say to one another.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask him, moving out of the doorway to let him step into your apartment.

Nico shakes his head yes and walks past you, looking towards the mess on the floor in your kitchen.

“What happened here? Is this the crash I heard?” he asks you.

“Yeah, the bag fell and spilled everything. When I went to pick it up, I forgot and used my bad shoulder,” you gesture to your slinged arm.

Nico shakes his head at you, crouching down to pick up the camera disks all over the floor.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to-“

“Well you’re sure as hell not trying to pick them up again,” Nico interrupts you, standing and placing the now full box of disks on your table.

You roll your eyes at him, walking over towards your fridge.

“So, what exactly happened? Jack told me you hurt your shoulder?” he follows you over to your fridge, watching you scan its contents, or lack thereof.

“Well, I was looking at my camera and skated right into a bunch of pucks on the floor, then was too focused on saving the equipment instead of remembering how to fall properly,” you told him, remembering his words during your first skate lesson, telling you not to catch yourself if you fall on the ice.

“See, I told you to just let yourself fall. Never try to catch yourself,” he echoes his words in your thoughts.

“Yeah, well, it’s a lot easier said than done,” you deadpan, shutting your fridge door and looking at Nico.

Your stomach growls at that exact moment, making you groan at your lack of food in your fridge, not having eaten since before your accident.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” Nico asks you, looking down at your growling stomach.

“Uhhh, breakfast?” you recall.

Nico’s eyes widen. “It’s almost midnight. Did they really not feed you at the hospital?” he asks you.

“Considering they were busy doing x-rays and scans to make sure nothing was broken or torn, no,” you walk over to your cabinets, finding them also bare.

“Alright, go sit down and I’ll order us something to eat,” Nico shoos you out of the kitchen, walking over and opening the drawer where you keep all of your takeout menus.

You wonder how he knows where your menus are, forgetting for a moment that he’s over at your apartment at least twice a week after your skating lessons. Sometimes more, the occasional movie night making its way into your weekly routine.

“What do you want? Sushi? Chinese? Burgers?” he questions, flipping through your menus.

For some reason, your brain chooses this moment to register how much you enjoy the sight of Nico in your kitchen, looking through your takeout menus and offering to order you dinner.

You think back to all the times he’s helped you make dinner, laughter filling every moment of your time together. You think about how he always wear his pjs when he comes over for a movie night, bringing a different chocolate candy to put in the popcorn each time. You think about how he somehow learned your coffee order without you ever telling him, bringing you a coffee every morning, even at away games.

You think about your mother’s words, and how you didn’t even have to ask Nico to come over tonight, or to give you skating lessons. You think about how you never have to ask Nico to do anything he does for you – which is a lot, you’re realizing – he just does it. He does it because he wants to, because he’s kind and caring and wants to spend time with you.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N, what do you want for dinner?” Nico snaps you out of your sudden revelation.

“Sorry, spaced out for a second. Must be the pain meds,” you tell him, knowing that your mind isn’t the least bit impaired right now.

“Okay, go sit down, we need to get some food in you then,” he fishes his phone out of his pocket, mumbling out “Can’t believe they pumped you full of meds on an empty stomach.”

You make your way to your couch, sitting down and taking your shoes off, making yourself as comfortable as you can.

You remove a stray piece of hair that fell onto your face, knowing how awful it must look.

When you fell on the ice, the claw clip that was holding your hair in its up-do broke, causing it to fan out over the cold, wet ice. Once you got to the hospital, you were put in and out of so many different machines, you can only imagine the tangled, matted mess it is.

You get up and go to your bathroom, finding your brush and trying to comb it out. The task proving to be difficult with only one hand. The tangles keep pulling your head back and hurting your tender scalp, but you keep trying, whimpering each time the brush gets stuck on a particularly bad tangle.

You don’t even hear Nico approach your bathroom, just a sigh and “I told you to sit down,” before the brush is taken from your hand and you see Nico’s reflection behind you in the mirror.

Without another word, he proceeds to brush your hair for you, ensuring every tangle is gone before setting the brush on your sink.

The two of you make eye contact in the mirror, neither one wanting to break the silence during the surprisingly intimate moment.

You clear your throat, looking down after the silence got too intense, causing Nico to avert his eyes as well.

“I really wish i could wash my hair, but i know that’s a no go tonight,” you chuckle, wishing your bathroom was a little bit bigger in this moment.

“I can braid your hair for you,” Nico starts, staring at you in the mirror, watching your eyes snap up to meet his. “I mean, only if you want,” he stutters out.

“Really?” you ask him, a little stunned.

“Yeah. I used to help Nina with hers all the time when I was younger,” Nico mentions his older sister, grabbing your hair lightly and starting to section it off. “Anytime she would have a sleep over I would always weasel my way into the party. So one day, she made me sit in a braiding chain and learn how to braid her hair.”

You let out a giggle, picturing a smaller version of Nico sitting at the end of a line of girls, braiding their long hair.

“Then, Nina claimed I got so good at it she always wanted me to braid her hair before her volleyball matches, then her friends all started wanting me to do theirs, too,” he continues talking, nearly lulling you to sleep with the soft movements of his hands as you listen to him speak.

“I think that’s adorable,” you quietly speak, closing your eyes.

“What can I say? When a pretty girl needs her hair braided, who am I to keep my skills to myself?” he jokes, making you wonder if he meant you or his sister’s friends.

“I’m sure it’s any little boy’s dream to have an entire volleyball team at his mercy, all those pretty volleyball players begging him to play with their hair,” you tease him, handing him the hair tie that you always keep on your wrist.

“I don’t know, I think playing with a pretty photographer’s hair is better, if you ask me,” he ties the hair tie around the bottom of the braid, reaching up to pull the braid loose, making sure it’s not too tight.

You keep your eyes closed, knowing he can likely see the redness on your cheeks at his words.

“Alright, eyes open. Need to make sure you like my work,” he places his hands on your biceps, making sure to keep his touch feather light on your bad arm.

He turns you around so you’re facing him, holding a handheld mirror that was laying on your sink in front of your face, allowing you to see the reflection of the braid.

You’re shocked to see the flawless Dutch braid that cascades down your back.

“Nico, you’re like…really good at this,” you reach your good hand to the back of your head, running it down the braid.

“Told you, I had a lot of practice,” he shrugs, setting the mirror down.

You yawn, the relaxing nature of having your hair braided allowing you to realize how tired you are from the day’s events.

“Nuh-uh, gotta keep you awake until we get some food in you,” he tuts, taking his hands and patting your cheeks.

You groan, leaning into his palms that stay resting on your face.

“C’mon, let’s get you changed and on the couch,” he motions for you to leave the bathroom.

You walk to your room, Nico helping you carefully remove your sling before leaving and giving you some privacy.

You change into your pajamas, somehow managing to get your arm into an oversized Devils shirt you found at the bottom of your drawer.

Nico is standing outside of your door when you open it, helping you back into your sling.

He stands in front of you, staring at you with a look that you can’t decipher.

“Is…everything okay?” you question him, noticing his stare after adjusting your sling.

His eyes snap up to you, seemingly unaware that he was even staring at you in the first place.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I just- is that my shirt?” he asks you, pointing to your pj shirt.

You look down at the oversized shirt, trying to think of where you got it.

It had just showed up in your laundry basket one day, assuming it was one they gave you when you got your job, but Nico’s question makes you think harder.

You realize, suddenly, you do remember where you got it.

During one of your post lesson dinners, Nico had spilled his drink all over his shirt. You offered to wash it for him after he changed to a shirt in his duffel.

You meant to take it back to him after you washed it, but forgot about it entirely, packing it away in your pajama drawer.

“Oh, crap, it is. Do you want it back, I can go change?” you ask him, worried he’s upset that you forgot to give it back.

“No…no it’s fine. Keep it. I have plenty,” he shakes his head, glancing down at it once more.

The two of you make your way to your couch, finding something to watch on tv when there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of your food.

You start to stand to go get it, but Nico sternly tells you to stay put.

Rolling your eyes you sit back down, grabbing the remote and continuing to channel surf.

Nico’s gone for longer than you expect, causing you to sit up and turn back towards your kitchen, wondering what’s taking him so long.

You see him walking over to you, a tray full of food in his hands.

He had ordered from your favorite sushi place, figuring it would be the easiest for you to eat one handed.

As he sat down the tray on the coffee table in front of you, you realized what took him so long.

Nico had put a toothpick in each piece of your sushi, knowing using chopsticks with your non dominant hand would have been hard for you. He poured soy sauce into a small container, allowing you to simply pick up each toothpick and dip it in the sauce before popping it in your mouth.

He had also ordered you a bottle of cherry coke, which he knew was your favorite, and placed it on the tray with the lid unscrewed and a straw peeking out of the bottle next to a glass of ice, just incase you wanted it that way instead.

You looked up at him, feeling that funny feeling in your chest like you did earlier in your kitchen, blown away at how he always seems to think of everything he can to help you out, even when you’re not injured.

You must’ve been looking for longer than you realized, because he cocks his head at you, confusion present on his face.

“What?” he asks, not understanding what’s wrong. “Did you not want sushi? I thought you said it was always the one thing that could cheer you up?”

You shake your head at him. “No, sushi is perfect,” you tell him, a small smile on your face as you look up at him.

He smiles back for a few moments, then started scooting the coffee table towards you so you don’t have to reach to grab your food. He moves around the table to sit beside of you, the size of the small table causing him to sit so close to you that you can feel the warmness of his large thigh against yours.

You once again think about all of the things he’s done for you without you even having to ask. Now including coming over after a game—no doubt exhausted and sore—and taking care of you without even thinking twice. Braiding your hair and calling you pretty. Staring at you unintentionally wearing his t-shirt. Modifying your food so it’s easier for you to eat with one hand.

You sit there, staring at the man you fear you’re falling in love with, already planning out the apology text you’re going to have to send your mom.

988 notes · View notes

withahappyrefrain · 1 year ago

Text

The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

#my writing #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fic #bob top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd

4K notes · View notes

everand1r · 1 month ago

Text

Yeah he’s my boyfriend, he just doesn’t know it yet

I do not know how to summarize this, it’s more crack than anything 💀

A/n: Reader is of a diva. And delusional. Chowder reference in Ace’s part lol

Warnings: I love using commas, reader has no gender or physical traits but is very feminine

Characters: Ace, Idia, Silver, Deuce, Jack, Sebek

Ace

Ace blankly stares ahead, ignoring you once again as you rant about how he just HAS to hold your hand.

He’s flattered really, such a pretty thing like you has taken such a liking to him, but you seem to be lost in your own little world sometimes.

“As my boyfriend it’s only natural-“ “we’re not dating,” pouting, you throw on your best puppy dog eyes.

Ace playfully rolled his eyes, “Oh cmon prefect that’s not gonna work on me.”

Hmph well that didn’t work

Alright then time for plan b

“Hold my hand, NOW!” You shout.

Startled, Ace shakily reaches his hand for yours, before you snatch it and squeeze.

“Gah! It burns!” He whines, gripping onto his arm. Ignoring his protest, you happily wave your interlocked hands, a satisfied smile adorning your face.

“Look everybody! We’re holding hands!” You shout, dragging Ace behind you in the courtyard as onlookers watch you with gazes of confusion and fear.

Idia

“Idiiiaaaaa~” you sang, banging on his door at an ungodly hour in the night. At first you wondered if coming at this time of the night was a good idea, but then you remembered Idia doesn’t really have a solid sleep schedule.

But it’s so quiet, is he ignoring you….? Nah you just gotta bang louder. Said man was currently hiding under his covers, silently begging for the gods to have mercy and hope someone will kick you out. Unfortunately for him, Ignihyde is scared of you.

Eventually he caves and opens his door, and your face practically lights up. “Idia! Oh finally I thought you were going to leave me out here!”

“…what do you want?”

You thrust an object in his hands, “here I need your help with this.” Idia glances down at his hands to see a broken glittery watch. Unimpressed, he glances back up to meet your eyes. “Seriously?” “One hundred percent!” You salute. “You couldn’t have waited till the morning?” “Well I thought about that…” You start, glancing off to the side as you play with your fingers,

“But I just missed you so much! Playing online with you is fun and all but I needed to see you again!”

Feeling his hair heat up, idia looks away. “W-Well you could’ve just asked, no need to bring an excuse,” he mumbled glancing at the watch. “Anyways come on in I’ll fix it for you”

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod you’re gonna hang out with Idia…. In his room! You’re practically foaming at the mouth as you walk in the room and sit down on his bed.

You couldn’t contain the giggles coming out of your mouth as Idia worriedly glances at you from the corner of his eye.

Sighing dreamily, you wonder how this night is going to go. You’re lost in thought, wondering how to get Idia into joining you on the bed before he shoves your newly fixed watch in your hands and throws you out. “Here’s your watch prefect, I’ve fixed it up for you. Goodnight.” He says before the closing the door on you.

Even hermits value their sleep.

You’re left standing there mouth agape before you slowly walk back to ramshackle, a new plan already brewing in your mind.

Mission failed, but don’t worry you’ll get him next time.

Silver

You tap your perfectly manicured nails on your chin as you sit in the courtyard, watching the man who has stolen your heart. Everything about him is perfect. His gorgeous eyes and hair, his smile, that chivalrous personality and those forearms! Ugh he’s perfect.

Groaning you bury your face in your knees. “How am I supposed to go talk to him!?!”

Malleus sits next you, amusedly watching your inner turmoil. “Why not go talk to him child of man? You have expressed your desire to do so to me mutiple times and yet you have not followed through, I am starting to think you’re chickening out as you humans like to say.”

Gasping, you snap your head up. “Chicken??? Oh hornton I am many things but I am no chicken!” You stand up and dust yourself off. “fine I’ll go talk to him.”

Malleus chuckles, “I see no reason to be nervous child of man, silver seems to have taken a liking to you as well.”

The cogs turn in your head as you process his words. Silver likes you? He likes you?! Well uhhh- I mean of course he does! Who doesn’t like you??

With your ego rising to dangerous levels you march over to silver conversing with a few birds near the well.

Clearing your throat to gain his attention, he looks up and gives you a pleasant smile.

“Hello there prefect, did you need something?”

“Yes actually I need you to go on a date with me.” You state matter of factly.

His eyes widen. “A date..?” Nodding you respond, “Yes, with me, at that new cafe in Sage island.”

Clearing his throat he responds “I-I would love to.” You watch as a faint blush dusts his face.

You had that affect on him! Your ego once again shoots through the roof.

“Great! I already made the reservations a while ago so let’s meet up on Friday at 7!”

“When did you do that-“ “Don’t be late!” You hastily interrupt, not wanting to answer that question. Rushing back to malleus you practically scream “He said yes! Ohmygosh malleus you have to help me pick out my outfit! I need something that’ll make him say Oh wow!” “Of course my dear, shall we go now?”

Going on a date with the most dreamy boy at NRC…Oh you hope this isn’t a dream!

Deuce

Vdc practice was more stressful today, with epel lashing out and storming off, deuce following after him.

It’s been awhile since they left. You hoped everything was ok with deuce. Oh and epel too.

Argh I should’ve given vil a piece of mind! Then deuce would’ve fallen for my fearless charm! Your hands slap onto your cheeks while your thoughts spiral.

As time goes on and deuce and epel return, you’re overjoyed! Although that joy doesn’t last long when you find out where they had gone.

“WHYY??” You shout, falling to the ground in despair.

He went on a date with epel? He went on a date with someone that wasn’t you?!

The poor boy was awkwardly watching you spiral right in front of him. He glances towards his group mates behind you for help. Only for them to turn around, seemingly finding the wall so interesting.

Damn

Deuce scratches behind his head, wondering how to console the sobbing mess on the floor (you). “We just uh went to the beach? Nothing happened, we just shouted at the waves..”

That seemed to do the trick

“Oh I knew it!” You spring up. “My plans for our first date aren’t ruined!” “First date? What do you mean by that!?” He sputters.

You ignore him, lost in thought about what date you should go on. Although a Blast cycle date is off the list!

Hmph epel is lucky nothing happened between those two, or he would’ve gone straight into your burn book.

Jack

Recently you’ve been daydreaming,

Daydreaming about jack carrying you in his arms specifically. You sigh once again as you realize he’s never once lifted you up in his arms. He has no reason to

But this shall remain a dream no longer! You were determined to make this a reality, and with you and him both going to Vargas camp, you had your chance.

The day before vargas camp, you relay your plan once again to grim. He does not care.

It’s for the tuna it’s for the tuna it’s for the tuna- grim probably

Now here you two were, alone, in the woods looking for grim. You had roped that poor little beast into your plan, having him get “lost” while you asked jack to help you look for him.

You had to buy him premium tuna and do his homework for a week but it was so worth it. You think to yourself as you walk alongside jack

Seeing a tree stump ahead, you figured now was the time to put your plan into action.

“Ouch!” You hissed. Jack looked back, only to see you dramatically fall to ground with the worst acting he had ever seen in his life.

“Oooh my ankle, I think I broke it.” you whined.

“I don’t think you could break it by-“ “OOOH THE PAIN!” You interrupt. “I don’t think I can walk any further, I’ll need somebody to carry me.”

“I think you can-“

“Only a strong 6’3, wolf beast man will be able to help me out of this crisis!”

Jack playfully sighed, knowing you’d only continue to cry on the floor until you got what you wanted.

He walks over and lifts you up in his arms. “You’re lucky I like you prefect.” He states, glancing down at you.

Wait what you bluesceeen.

“What’s the matter prefect? You got what you wanted didn’t you?” He smirks.

Averting your gaze you mumble, “I-uh let’s just keep looking for grim.”

You weren’t expecting him to fluster you!

Sebek

All week you’ve been trying to get sebek to spend more time with you. From studying together, to accidentally bumping into him in the halls.

But you didn’t want to ask to spend more time together! You wanted him to come to you! Although nothing has worked so far… ugh how unfair. Who wouldn’t want to spend time with you!

Fine it seems you have to resort to EXTREME measures you internally groan, walking up to him after class.

“Sebek you aren’t busy after school today right? I was hoping you could teach me how to fight using a sword today,” you start, clasping your hands behind your back and rocking on your feet. You hoped you didn’t look too desperate

“Hmph, you’re lucky I don’t have any training today, I’ll meet you in Diasmonia later.”

Oh look how easy that was

You’ve been practicing outside for quite a bit. Spending time with the knight is always a treat. Getting to stare at his sharp eyes as he focuses on honing his skills, his muscles bulging with each swing- Oh look you fell into the grass and ate shit

“Prefect!” He snapped. “Why ask me to practice sword fighting if you’re not going to pay attention!”

To be honest you didn’t really care for sword training, you could defend yourself just fine, but getting to spend time with Sebek was worth the blood sweat and tears…. Kind of

“Oh I just hate to get my face dirty!” You groan, pouting on the floor. With a heavy sigh, sebek reaches a hand out to you, “Well you’ll get even more dirty sitting on the floor.” with a fast beating heart and warm face you take his hands as he helps you up.

“Come on let’s get you cleaned up-“ He offers, looking back at you only to be met with you staring with a lovesick smile.

Whipping his head back, “Don’t look like that!” He yells. To anyone else he may look mad, but that flushed face tells you otherwise. Smiling, you skip up to him and carefully link your pinky with his. The knight glances at you as you bat your eyelashes at him. Sighing once again, he grabs your hand as you both walk towards Ramshackle. A lovely shade of red coating his cheeks.

Hope you guys had as much fun reading as I did writing this lol

Banner by saradika-graphics

443 notes · View notes

midastouch013 · 6 months ago

Text

Scars and All

Based on this request

Summary: You and Natasha have been dating for almost a year, and so what happens when you finally find out why things never get steamy

Warnings: Insecurity, Scars, Flashbacks of Redroom. Super soft Nat.

---

You and Natasha had been dating for close to a year now, having moved in a month ago to the floor Tony had given the both of you happy to see his, and you quote ' favourite spider' so in love, and though your relationship was incredible in so many ways, there was one aspect that sometimes caused a bit of frustration. Every time things got a little bit steamy, Natasha would freeze up. And every time it left you confused, more than before with every occurrence.

It happened again tonight. You were tangled up in each other, lips locked in a passionate kiss, hands exploring, when Natasha suddenly pulled back, her breath uneven.

"Stop," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You froze, your heart pounding. You were frustrated, sure, but you respected Natasha enough to honor her wishes. With a heavy sigh, you pulled away, trying to hide your disappointment.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly, concern evident in your voice.

She nodded, avoiding your gaze. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… not feeling it right now."

You couldn't help but feel disappointed, but you didn't want to show it. Instead, you forced a small smile and said, "Okay. I'm just gonna… take a cold shower then."

Without waiting for a response, you got up and made your way to the bathroom, leaving Natasha alone on the bed.

The cold water did little to wash away your disappointment. You couldn't shake the feeling of frustration, unable to understand why Natasha kept pulling away.

After what felt like an eternity under the icy spray, you finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. As you dried off and got dressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

When you emerged from the bathroom, you found Natasha lost in her own world, her eyes unfocused as she begged someone she had only told you about once, Madame B, not to hit her.

Your heart broke at the sight. You knew Natasha was reliving a moment from her past, a nightmare from her time in the Red Room. Without a second thought, you crossed the room and enveloped her in a tight hug, hoping to ground her in the present, having it done many times previously.

"Nat, it's me," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing. "You're safe now. You're with me."

Slowly, Natasha's breathing began to steady, and the tension in her body started to ease. She clung to you, burying her face in the crook of your neck as she struggled to break free from the memories that haunted her.

You held her close, whispering words of comfort and reassurance until she finally began to relax in your arms.

After Natasha falls asleep in your arms, you gently tuck her under the covers, making sure she's comfortable. With a lingering glance, you quietly slip out of the room, closing the door softly behind you.

You make your way downstairs and pull out your phone, dialing Yelena's number. She picks up after a couple of rings.

"Hey," she says, her voice filled with concern. "Is everything okay?"

You hesitate for a moment, not sure how to explain what just happened with Natasha.

"Not really," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Nat had a flashback… to the Red Room, I think."

There's a pause on the other end of the line before Yelena speaks again. "Is she okay now?"

"Yeah, she's sleeping," you reply. "But… I don't know what to do, Yelena. Every time things start to get… intimate, she freezes up. I can't shake the feeling that it's connected somehow."

There's a thoughtful silence before Yelena speaks again. "Does my sestra shower with the door closed?"

You frown, confused by the seemingly random question. "Uh, yeah, she does. Why?"

Yelena hums thoughtfully. "And does she ever… mention anything about about her post-missions "

Your heart skips a beat as the pieces start to click into place. "No, she doesn't even let me see her till she's in pajamas. Why?"

Yelena lets out a heavy sigh. "Look, I think… Y/n, you're pretty smart, so I'm surprised I have to be telling you this, but my sister is insecure about something. And maybe, just maybe, that's why she keeps pulling away."

"But what insecurity?" you question," She-"

Before you can say anything else, Yelena interrupts you. "Sorry, I have to go. Kate's calling me. Just… be there for her, okay? She needs you."

After Yelena hangs up, more incidents with Natasha flash through your mind. Little moments that, when looked at together, begin to form a pattern. And suddenly, it hits you like a ton of bricks. Natasha's insecurity is about her scars.

Just as you're connecting the dots, Natasha comes downstairs to grab something to eat. Wordlessly, you grab her by the hips and lift her up.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she squeals, trying to wriggle out of your grasp.

Ignoring her protests, you carry her back upstairs to your room. Once there, you gently set her down on the edge of the bed, ignoring her playful protests.

"Okay, seriously, what's going on?" she asks, confusion evident in her voice.

You don't answer right away. Instead, you kneel down on the floor in front of her, taking her hands in yours.

"Tasha, I love you," you begin, your voice steady. "And I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. I know… I know that something happened tonight, something that triggered a flashback. And I think… I think I know what it is."

Natasha's eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, she looks like she might bolt. But then she takes a deep breath and meets your gaze.

"You do?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, squeezing her hands gently while taking a deep breath, trying to find the right words to say. "Natasha, do you not like your scars?" you ask gently.

Natasha's defenses go up immediately, and she tries to deflect the situation with humor. "What, these old things?" she says, gesturing to her scars with a forced smirk. "Just battle wounds, nothing to worry about."

But you're firm in your resolve. You don't let her deflect this time. "Nat, please," you say, your voice pleading. "I need you to be honest with me."

She sighs, the forced smile slipping from her face. "Fine," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fine, you want the truth? I hate them, okay? I hate the way they look. I hate what they remind me of."

Your heart breaks at her words, but you keep your voice steady. "Why, Nat? Why do you hate them so much?"

And then she confesses, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Because I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid that when you see them, you'll finally realize that you're dating a monster. A cold-blooded murderer. I'm afraid that you'll look at me and see nothing but a killer. And I love you so much, and I don't want to lose you. But I'm afraid that these scars will scare you away. That I don't look… sexy with my scars and all."

Tears fill her eyes as she speaks, and you feel your heart breaking all over again.

You feel a surge of anger and hurt at Natasha's admission. How could she think of herself like that? And how could she think that you would ever see her that way?

"You really think that?" you say, your voice coming out a bit harsher than you intended. "That I would see you like that? That I would ever think of you as a monster? God, Natasha, how could you even think that?"

Natasha flinches at your words, and for a moment, you regret the harshness of your tone. But then you take a deep breath and soften your voice.

"I'm sorry, It wasn't supposed to sound so rude, but… I get it, Nat," you continue, your voice gentle now. "I get that you're scared. And I understand why you feel that way. Even if I've not been through what you've been through, I'd like to think that I get it. But you need to know that I love you, scars and all. And I would never, ever think of you as anything less than amazing."

You feel Natasha's arms tighten around you, and you know that she's listening, really listening, to what you're saying.

"And another thing," you add, your voice firm now. "You need to stop calling yourself those hateful things. You are not a monster, Natasha. You are not a cold-blooded murderer. You are a hero, you are the role model to millions of kids out there, and you're my girlfriend. There's no way in hell could you be what you claim to be. Don't you ever forget that."

Natasha doesn't say anything in response, and for a moment, you worry that you've pushed her too far. But then she pulls back slightly, her eyes meeting yours.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for… for loving me, scars and all."

You shush her with a gentle finger to her lips. " What have I told you about that?" you ask in a tutting tone.

She chuckled breathily, a faint smile on her face " Never thank you unless I don't want dinner that night"

You look into Natasha's eyes, your heart overflowing with love and reassurance. Without saying a word, you lift her (Well yours, but anything that was yours was hers) t-shirt and leant in to press a gentle kiss to one of her scars, then another, and another, until you'd kissed each one.

Each kiss is an act of reassurance, a silent declaration of how beautiful and attractive you find her scars. And with each kiss, you feel Natasha's tension slowly melting away, replaced by a sense of peace and acceptance.

When you finally pull back, Natasha is looking at you with tear-filled eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I love you" she whispers, her voice filled with emotion.

" I love you more"

"Willing to bet on it?"

#avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #anon ask #anonymous #natasha romanoff hurt/comfort #natasha x y/n #natasha marvel #yelena and natasha

867 notes · View notes