#my starting pay will likely be more than the Most she could EVER make without having a masters degree

[scarletttries]

Dennis Whitaker (The Pitt) Roommate Headcanons

Pairing: Dennis Whitaker (The Pitt) x Reader

Author's note: Naturally Dennis Whitaker has haunted most of my thoughts since I finished The Pitt, and I can't stop thinking about if instead of Santos offering up her spare room, it was you, the colleague he's been swooning over all shift ♥️

- It may have only been his first day in The Pitt, but by the time he reluctantly handed over his patients for the day Dennis felt like he'd known you so much longer. Maybe it was the kindness you offered him in his first shift, taking the time to talk him through one of his many wardrobe changes, throwing him a protein bar when he mentioned he was starving, stopping to tell him he was doing a good job when it seemed like everything was getting on top of him. Throw in your smile, and the way you seemed absolutely unshakable in the face of tragedy, and well Dennis had felt his heart falling deeper and deeper over the longest day of his life so far.

- As excited as he was to leave the emergency room, he felt a little bit disappointed that it meant his time with you would be over soon. Until Santos caught him in his less than ideal living situation, and mentioned she knew someone with a spare room that wouldn't mind if he couldn't pay rent: you. He'd want to decline the invite at first, feeling like taking advantage of your kindness would be a terrible way to make a good impression on you, but after you reassured him that he wasn't the first medical student to need a place to crash then he'd eventually accept that it's the best offer he's ever going to get. And that's how lovestruck Dennis Whitaker would find himself standing in the hallway of your apartment, uneasy and uncertain and just desperately wishing his cheeks would stop flushing pink every time you smiled during your tour.

- Dennis would be the sweetest housemate you could imagine. If you leave dishes in the sink, they'll be washed and put away without a single squeak of complaint. If you make a note on the fridge of something you've run out of, next time you come back from a long shift the item has been ticked off and is waiting exactly where the old one was. Dennis is quiet, and tidy, and respectful. But more than that he fills your home with joy.

- If you're cooking, Dennis will emerge from his room and offer to help any way he can, even if it's just by settling on a stool in front of you and telling you how good it smells. If you're cleaning to the gentle music echoing from the radio, Dennis will offer to trail behind you and pick up laundry as you go, unashamedly dancing to whatever genre of music you seem to love because it just makes him happy to be beside you. He doesn't like to hide in his room when you're home because it feels so much better to fall into step with your life, the farm boy quickly getting invested in whatever TV show you spend your long shifts looking forward to.

- You both have crazy schedules so half the time you find yourself home alone, and more and more you realise how much you miss Dennis's presence when he's not there with you. Little do you know that between shifts Dennis is practically moping by the front door like a lonely puppy, just waiting for you to return and turn this house into a home. You'll get into a routine of leaving little notes for each other in the kitchen about when you're next on shift, or what needs doing in the house today, eventually just turning into an endless conversation the two of you have when the other isn't home.

- More than once Dennis has thought about asking you out via your kitchen whiteboard, but he knows it's not fair on either of you to put you on the spot while you're still living together. So as soon as he's got a steadier paycheck from the hospital he's going to start apartment hunting, as much as he doesn't want to. You don't admit it, but the first time he mentions he's got an apartment viewing booked your stomach drops because you can't really believe you're going to stop being able to spend so much time with him.

- Coming back to your place after a long shift is ideal with Dennis, because you know he really gets it. He takes one look at the distance in your eyes as he welcomes you home, and suddenly takeout has been ordered, and ice cream is pulled from the freezer, and a blanket is around your shoulders and he's just looking at you with those big pleading eyes, waiting to hear if there's anything he can do to take the weight off your shoulders, or if you just want to unload all your worries onto him. He'll stay up as late as you want to listen to you, because he knows coming home to you is the only thing that seems to shake off the dark cloud that follow him home from his worst days at the hospital.

- Dennis never wants to overstep or make you feel uncomfortable in your own place, but dear god that doesn't mean it's not easy for him to forget where he is sometimes and just stare at you. You'll emerge from your room in the morning and it'll be like he's never seen you before, the air knocked out of his lungs when you say his name for the first time that day. Or when you set a plate of dinner in his lap when he's all but asleep on the sofa and give him that gentle worried look when you remind him to eat, and he has to fight every urge in his body not to drop to one knee. He hears your voice and smiles, and he sees you in your comfy clothes as feels his stomach do a flip, and sometimes when he can hear your shower running he has to remind himself he is a good, polite young man and not some pervert who can't control his thoughts.

- When he catches you throwing a hoodie he'd left hanging by the door over your shoulders one chilly morning, oh this farm boy would just melt. In that moment it's like he's truly yours, just a couple living together with no boundaries or charity or anything else to worry about. The next time the temperature drops you'll find the same hoodie resting over the back of the sofa for communal use.

- The two of you fall into a sweet little life together at your place; you split household chores, and you take care of each other everyday, and when you haven't seen each other in a few days because of your shifts it feels only natural to fall into Dennis's arms or let his head rest in your lap as you watch an old movie together because it was your favourite as a kid. You both know you can't stay like this forever, but neither of you wants to think about your homes being anywhere but together. And neither of you wants to admit that sometimes after you've said good night you'll find yourself pacing outside the other's bedroom door, debating if knocking and finally crossing that last domestic boundary of sharing a bed would really be so bad.

- It's an early morning call that changes it all. You were both on shift at the hospital until late last night, finally falling into bed just before midnight only to get woken up at 5am by Dana calling everyone back in for a crisis incident. You didn't need to be there an hour, but given the lack of sleep you still felt likena zombie as you dragged yourself to the kitchen and started making breakfast. Clearly on the same phone tree as you, Dennis emerged moments after, still half asleep as he started making you both coffee, the two of you settling seamlessly into your usual morning routine. You could feel your eyelids struggling to stay open as you waited for the necessary caffeine to start your day, only glancing up as you felt Dennis's form close in behind you, one hand landing on the small of your back as the other placed a warm mug into your waiting hands. Your eyes met his as the two of you slotted perfectly together, two moving parts that worked in sync no matter how exhausted you were. So when Dennis leaned slightly closer, it was the most natural thing in the world to close the distance, your lips softly meeting his as if this was how every day would start. On instinct Dennis kissed back, unhurried and soft in his movements, the sleep-deprived trance you were both in finally giving way to expressing your true feelings.

As your lips finally parted, foreheads coming to rest against each other, you let out the softest laugh. The kind of gentle chuckle that slips through your lips when there's so much warmth and joy inside you that it can no longer be contained in a person. Dennis echoed your affectionate noise, letting the hand on your back brush over you gently as he confessed,

"You know I'm only moving out so I can ask you on a date, right? Because I love it here."

[luxthecreator]

—𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 02: 𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝖘𝖚𝖌𝖆𝖗

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟸.𝟷𝚔 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚡 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: polycule lads, reader-insert, LADS men x reader, SFW, romance, fluff, comfort, self-aware LADS men.

𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝙰𝙾3

Once Sylus got everything under control almost admonishing Kieran and Luke for almost traumatizing the poor worker and getting our orders in the process. Everyone thanked him and he, as he always does, dismisses it. As if money and paying for stuff wasn’t a problem or a hassle at all. And you know in his world it wouldn’t be, but you can’t understand how he seems to hold the same power and grip in your world too. You tucked that thought into your on-growing list of things you wanted to ask them. Or if they danced on answering you, you could always try and find Luke and Kieran. Wherever those two had disappeared to.

“So where should we start?” you ask a little nervous but also bussing with excitement. Like have you seen this? Part of your most loved characters are here in the flesh before you. Of course you have trillions of questions, but you are happy, and I won’t be looking at the gifted horse teeth. You were thankful for this awesome gift and would treasure it forever and ever.

“Pipsqueak, it’s a lot; maybe we can just be happy that we are together now” Zayne gave Caleb a warning look.

“Caleb, we promised we would tell her. Not leave her in the dark of the situation. I know we want to protect her, but leaving this kind of information from the start could deter the relationship we want to build on the long run” Zayne said commandingly. The kind of command you heard of him when being Dawnbreaker Zayne or Doctor Zayne. Not gonna lie, you were fangirling about that. The aura he was giving was amazing.

“Having fun, kitten?” Sylus murmurs into your ear when he passed behind you to take out the empty cup of his to the trash. You warn him with a look. Your nose scrunching making him think how adorable you looked, like a kitten that was turning redder by the second with the fact of having been caught red-handed. Oh, he was totally going to have fun with that knowledge.

“It’s okay, cutie. I too love that side of him,” Rafayel said “I like dominating it more, though”.

“Rafayel!” you whisper a scream to him almost red as a tomato. You started regretting your thankfulness, you wouldn’t survive with these 5 dudes.

I need my mom –you thought.

“Caleb, please” You beg looking at him after a few seconds of silence where the ambience felt heavy enough to cut with a knife. “I need to know. I must know what is happening so that I can help too or see what we can do and plan with you all. Living in the dark could put me more at risk than knowing. We will be okay, safe and sound, but we need to work as a team for that to happen”.

“She is right” Xavier said looking at his cup moving ever so slightly the straw still a little sleepy but looking intently towards the half-full cup.

Caleb sighs and moves his sight from Xavier back to you. That frown softening. You knew he still didn’t like the situation, and you understood. You would want for the ones you love to keep living without worrying about anything, blissfully unaware, but you also understood that joining forces is better than acting alone and Caleb needed to understand that too. He wasn’t alone, not now, not ever again, if it was in your capacity and of the other guys too.

“Fine. I’m still not happy about it. You must promise me if we say stay back you will do so. We can’t lose you now. This is bigger than us. Do you understand?” You nod, still feeling how he wasn’t hundred percent okay with the decision.

“I do, coronel. I’ll follow the rules if you do too.” You smile trying to lighten his mood. And it works, he lets a little laugh break through his coronel’s persona.

“So, it’s decided we are telling everything, but this must stay between everyone on this table unless we say otherwise, understood?” Rafayel said looking pointily at your friends and then at you but winking for you at the end. Again, the aura these guys carried would be the end of you.

Infold look at what you have done.

A chorus of yes were said but before any of the guys could say anything more Caleb stood up with a poker face you knew well from the cards. He took his already finished tea and hovered over the trash can, unmoving.

You look over to the guys. Some of them let out a sigh. Xavier made a motion to stand up, but you stop him taking his hand back into yours.

“Let me, please. I think I can do this” Sylus and Xavier nod leaving more space for me to get out of the table Rafayel still looking troubled about my statement.

“Caleb?” you ask once you reach him seeing how he is playing with what once was a good to use straw.

“Not now, pipsqueak. Go Back and listen to them.” He says almost like a murmur.

“They can tell me the story later, but right now I need to talk to you”. You try and put yourself between the trash can and him “. Hey, look. I know this isn’t ideal, but you need to understand my point of view like I do yours. I’m also scared to shits. What if something happens to you all because of being here. Be it Astra, or EVER, or even people from my world. I don’t want to lose you the same way I know you don’t want to lose me.” He looks at you now, face unmoving, almost like he is mad at you and ready to kill, but his eyes tell a different story. As if there were two Calebs fighting for power.

“Love, my heart. You know me. Even if it sounds weird for me to be saying this. In the small amount of time that you have been with me, you have demonstrated that you somehow know how I am. So… you know why you need to tell me. I need to know so I can be more cautious. That way I can be in the lookout for patterns, suspicious activity, maybe the way they talk, walk or present themselves”.

“You think too much” he stops my rambling still angry looking, but you can detect how he is also trying not to laugh at your own paranoia even though he was trying not to show how your paranoia was well founded. He needed to protect you, for you to look at him as your protector. He didn’t allow himself to show weakness.

“If you knew I was like this then why did you chose me” you joke as you always do with your friends, he lets a small laugh still torturing the poor straw with his hands.

You stop him gently by taking the straw and throwing it into the trashcan while keeping both of his hands in your own. Making small movements trying to direct his thoughts back to you and the moment at hand.

“I can’t be on the dark, Caleb. I’m not MC even if my dad says I could punch a very good combo I’m still no hunter, nor do I have an evol to my knowledge. So, please… let me have this at least. I know where you are coming from, but I also know that this is not the way to do things. Not when so much it’s at stake.” You pause letting him and yourself have a moment to take your words in.

“There will be moments when you or the guys aren’t with me and—”

“We wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let that happen” he stops you.

“Caleb, you don’t know that. Shit can happen or maybe I’m alone because I went to buy more chocolate or—”

“No” he says. Interrupting you again. Like he is fighting with himself and his thoughts.

Why were you telling all these scenarios? Why wouldn’t you let them accompany you everywhere? He wouldn’t let you be alone. He can buy that chocolate, even make one himself. Or tell Sylus so Mephisto keeps an eye on you. His heartbeat started to skyrocket as more fake scenarios of you in possible danger came to his mind.

“Do you want me to be a bird in a cage, Caleb?” and that simple question does it. He takes you by the shoulders, his eyes piercing yours almost like, you internally laugh at the irony, an animal that’s been caged for too long.

“Don’t put words in my mouth” And your full name came with that. No pet names. No pipsqueak or any other. You know he was serious after that. “Don’t. Just, don’t.”

“Caleb, please” you beg, “I’m not her.”

“You are! Yes, you are. Not the same but, yes.” You don’t understand what he means, and he knows that. Frustrated, he puts a hand over his mouth like he doesn’t even know where to begin or how to explain himself. After a few seconds he seemed to conclude over whatever was on his mind. “Not here. Too many eyes, too many ears. We will explain when we get home. For now, you get the version they are telling your friends so they can understand the heaviness of the situation at hand”.

You nod, still a little confused, but you thought: this is as good as it can get…for now.

With that being said, the both of you return to the conjoined tables more ‘calmly’ if you could call it that. Though… this time Caleb didn’t let you sit on your chair, but he moved you towards his lap and you let him. Something in you told you that this was the only way he could feel calm right now. Having you here; close to him as possible ready to act if anything came to shove. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had his gun hidden somewhere in his jacket or pants. Or maybe his evol could be enough.

Your friends almost laugh and you, being the mature one, you stick out your tongue out to them. Then you laugh remembering the phrase Zayne said once. The one of him being at least more mature than MC.

“As I was saying, this is something we will deal with, but you need to let us handle the heavy stuff and do as we say” Zayne continued.

“This is sounding like a bank robbery.” Your friend pointed out trying to lighten the mood.

“You need to understand, we are working with a god and people that could well be like a mafia.”

“Think of it as if Ever, the group Zayne is talking about, was Hydra from Marvel”. You said trying to make your friends better understand what your dear doctor was trying to explain.

“Oh, that’s bad, really bad. Are you going to be okay, though?” your friend asked you directly.

“With them at my side I know I’m gonna be in the safest place. Don’t worry guys. These guys are something else I tell you.”

“Thank you for the high praise, pipsqueak.” Caleb said almost immediately, looking at you like he wanted to laugh and smother you in kisses at how dearly he felt at your statement.

“I’m just stating facts” you countered almost wanting to pout at the embarrassment you felt with all the eyes laying upon you.

You look at Zayne pleadingly and then at Xavier. Asking them or at least hoping they understand that you are asking for mercy.

“Neither Astra nor Ever are going to stop till they get what they want. We need to be careful. If we got out of the “game”, they could too. It’s just a thing of waiting until they realize what is happening and we need to be prepared for that.” Xavier continued.

“They could also join forces with people of our world” you added, thinking as always in all the possibilities and outcomes.

You stayed in silence thinking and digesting all the cards that were now laid upon the table. The only thing that got you out of that state was your name being dropped by Sylus.

You look back at him and as if he could read your mind he answered.

“I know you are scared, my beloved. But as you said, we’ve got everything under control you just need to trust us. Your loved ones will be okay too. We got you.”

And with those last words you knew that no matter what happened next you were going to be okay. With that thought you leaned more into Caleb, letting his arms engulf you with his warmth.

𝚂𝚄𝙿𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃 𝚄𝚂 𝙱𝚈 𝚃𝙸𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰 𝙲𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙴𝙴!

[navybrat817]

Sharp Dressed Man

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky looks good in a suit, and it isn't fair how easily he turns you on.

Word Count: Over 2k

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), referenced oral sex (f. receiving), feels, sweet and spicy fic, established relationship, vulnerability, being in love, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Tower Shenanigans based on an anon ask. ❤️ Thank you to the lovely @buckybarnesfic, @soelstress, @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for looking it over and assuring me it wasn't garbage. Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was still getting ready for the day while you made him breakfast. It was the most important meal of the day, and neither of you would let the other skip it. Thankfully the rest of the team had already eaten and were elsewhere, otherwise everyone would try to steal something; except for Bob because he wouldn't take food without asking. Not to mention the last time John tried to steal one of Yelena’s meals he almost lost a finger. 

The scent of freshly brewed coffee cut through the last traces of sleep, warming you up as you loaded the plates with various foods and set them on the island. You rinsed the dishes and cleaned the counters while you waited for Bucky, doing a silly little dance in-between tasks. It wasn't your day to tidy up the kitchen, but you weren't going to be a jerk and leave it a mess. 

“Someone’s happy this morning,” Ava said from behind you, and you somehow didn't jump at the sound. You were all getting used to her phasing in and out of the rooms. “Let me guess. Morning sex?”

Was it obvious since you were only in your robe and underwear? “Maybe,” you teased. 

The wonderful ache between your legs was a nice reminder of how Bucky woke you earlier, making you shiver. You felt his fingers and tongue working you over before you opened your eyes, and you barely recovered from your first orgasm before he had his cock in you. It wasn't rushed either. He took his time, making you feel every delicious inch as he thrust slow and deep. Even when you came again he didn't stop. 

“‘Attagirl,” he smiled against your lips while you trembled beneath him, his body effectively caging you in. “But you can give me one more. I know you can.”

“Bucky,” you whined, wanting nothing more than for him to fill you to the brim. 

“Just one more, sweetheart.” A hand moved between your bodies so he could play you like a well tuned instrument. “One more and I’ll give it to you.”

You did, and so did he, your name tumbling from his lips as he spilled into you. Who wouldn't give Bucky another orgasm if he gently demanded it? Three orgasms wasn't a bad way to start the day. A girl could do much worse. 

“Lucky,” she smirked, snapping you out of your thoughts when she snatched a bite of food from Bucky’s plate. “Mmm. Remind me to have you make me breakfast the next time you have morning sex.”

“Hey!” you yelled, but there was laughter in your eyes when she took another bite and phased away. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Who will pay for what?” Bucky asked when he walked into the room, making your breath catch in your throat. 

Bucky's hair was tucked behind his ears today, bringing your attention to his steel eyes before you took in the rest of him. His suit was tailored impeccably to his large frame, and he wore it well. He carried himself with composed ease, his steps deliberate and head held high. His presence demanded attention without appearing arrogant, which was tough to balance. He was all man. 

He was your man. 

“Fuck me,” you breathed. 

Bucky may not be a Congressman anymore, but he would have had your vote for anything and everything he ever wanted. 

His eyes flashed with unmistakable lust and pride as he walked toward you, making your stomach flip. “Already did.”

“You did, and you can do that again later,” you said, reaching up to trace his mouth. 

You smiled when he kissed your fingers. It was an honor to touch him and that wasn't at all an exaggeration. You noticed how tense he got when some got too close to him, but not you. Never you. 

“So, I look handsome?” he asked casually, adjusting his tie. “Not that I’m trying to look handsome. I’m only wearing this since I have a meeting, and I might get a few dirty looks if I show up in tactical gear.”

You almost teased that he was fishing for a compliment, but you saw just a flicker of his confidence waver as he waited for your answer. “Suit or tactical gear, you’re the most handsome man I've ever seen.”

He breathed out, his confidence back in full force. “I’m glad to hear that.” Sliding a hand over the curve of your hip, his fingers dug in, a protective and possessive touch, when he brought his mouth to your ear. “And I may have to wear suits around you more often since it turns you on so much.”

You tried to play coy, as if your nipples hadn’t peaked and your clit didn't throb. “Who said I'm turned on?” 

Bucky chuckled and lowered his head, his teeth nipping your neck and drawing a whimper from you. His lips moved up to find your ear again while you tried to keep your breathing steady. “Don't have to say it, sweetheart. I can smell you,” he whispered. You couldn't hide anything with those heightened senses of his, a blessing or a curse depending on how you looked at it. “Ruined your panties the second I walked in here.”

Your eyes closed. He was right, the smug bastard. Damn him. Damn him to Hell. No, not there. That was too cruel. Your bed would do nicely. 

It was insane the more you thought about it. The man could breathe and it would send your libido into overdrive. Feminism? Where did it go? One murder strut or grumpy stare and it went out the window along with your panties. One smile and it melted your insides. 

What had he done to you?

“You're unbelievable,” you sighed. 

He pulled back, searching your face. “What do you mean?” 

“I was a strong and capable woman before I came here,” you said, the words sounding ridiculous as soon as they left your mouth. 

“And you still are,” he assured you. Bucky was one of your biggest supporters, always. 

“It’s just… Do you have any idea what that’s like? To just look at someone and get turned on?” You stepped out of reach and gestured to him. You asked yourself some days how Bucky Barnes could possibly be real. How did someone like him exist? “You breathe and I get aroused. That isn't normal.”

No other man had that kind of power over you, body or heart, until him. 

The warm chuckle from your boyfriend had you fighting not to smile. “One, we’re not normal. Two, your breathing turns me on, too. And three, I do know it’s like to just look at someone and get aroused because that happens when I look at you,” he said, taking your hand to bring you back to him. He placed it against his crotch and grew harder under your touch. “We’re a match made in heaven, Hell, whatever you want to call it.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks. You two were a good match. “It isn't just arousal when I look at you. It’s…” You took a breath and gripped his jacket with your other hand, trying to be careful not to wrinkle it. “You smile at me and…” 

“And what?” he asked, catching your eye and softly smiling. 

You swallowed, your eyes suddenly misting over before you dropped your hands. It was alarming how quickly your emotions took over in regard to Bucky. “I see a future with you there.”

Bucky cupped your cheeks when you tried to duck your head. He had stripped you bare more than once, but saying something like that made you feel more vulnerable than when you were naked. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“You have the power to break me,” you whispered, your eyes shutting. Not to hide, but to keep the tears at bay. “Which should be terrifying, but it’s very exhilarating.”

To give that much of yourself to another, to trust them to that extent, wasn't easy. But if life taught you anything, it was that it was too short and you had to seize every opportunity to live it to the fullest. Who better to do that with than Bucky Barnes?

You cleared your throat when he didn't say anything, his eyes a storm of emotions when you opened yours. “Your breakfast is getting cold. You should-”

He surged forward, his lips covering yours. The pad of his thumbs brushed your cheeks when he deepened the kiss, coaxing you to open your mouth to his. Emotions surged through you, your heart nearly overflowing as you held onto each other. You felt everything all at once and let yourself be swept away. 

He slowly broke the kiss allowing you both to savor the lingering touch of each other's lips and take a much needed breath. “You could break me, too, but you won't,” he said, his forehead resting against yours as you attempted to calm your racing heart. “Just like I'd never break you.”

It was a vow that resonated in your core, a declaration of love, one that had you kissing him again and silently promising the same. “Match made in heaven or Hell, huh?”

“And where you go, I’ll follow,” he smiled. 

You'd follow him, too. “Well, right now you need to eat breakfast and head out so you aren't late for your meeting.”

He groaned and refrained from rolling his eyes. “This suit is coming off as soon as I get back,” he said, much to your disappointment. Or maybe your delight. 

“Right when you get back?” You bit your lip. “Will you use the tie on me?” 

“I can,” he smirked, making your body heat up all over again. “Can have a little fun in the office, too. Pretend I’m your boss and-”

“Or I could be your boss since I'm strong and capable,” you teased. 

He moaned, seemingly into that idea as he backed you against the island. “Boss or not, I’ll still bend you over the desk or have you sit on it while I eat your pretty pussy.”

You whined. There was no stopping Bucky when he was hungry. He’d spread your legs and stay between them until you cried, lap up every drop and still want more. 

His hands roamed your body, forgetting all about breakfast. “Fuck you raw and fill you up just the way you-”

Bob cleared his throat, both of you turning toward the sound. How long had the poor guy been standing there? “Just getting a drink,” he said, quickly going to the fridge and avoiding looking at you. “I’m not even here.”

“Sorry, Bob,” you smiled sheepishly when he grabbed his drink and bolted. “We should probably rent a hotel room or something soon and give the team a break.”

You and Bucky could be extremely private some days and others there was no stopping you. How the team put up with it you had no idea. Maybe because you made each other happy. It still had to be slightly obnoxious for them. 

Bucky scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile on his handsome face, too. “Or we could always do a campout on the roof so we aren't too far away,” he suggested. 

You smiled as you imagined it. Looking out over the city and watching the stars before cuddling up in a tent. A cabin getaway was also something to keep in mind for the future when you two could take a break together. Peaceful, quiet. Something just for the two of you. 

“A roof campout sounds nice,” you said. 

“Good,” Bucky smirked before he picked you up and set you on the island. “Campout later. Right now I want breakfast.”

“Bucky, your meeting.” 

“I won't be late.”

You didn't resist when he opened your legs. “Ava said no more fooling around in the kitchen since we eat here,” you reminded him. Alexei would probably encourage it. “And I just cleaned up, and you haven't eaten the food I made.”

“I’ll clean up the mess,” he winked as he crouched down. “And I’ll eat after I eat.”

And he did. 

We deserve this. Bucky deserves this. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[sincerelyneo]

i’m not gonna teach your boyfriend how to fuck you | l.mk

“you are the girl that i’ve been dreaming of”

📀now playing: i’m not gonna teach your boyfriend how to dance with you by black kids

❯ summary: Asking your best friend to take your virginity because you have a crush on someone else and want experience is totally normal, right? Mark doesn’t think so. If he’s taking your virginity, it’s not for practice—it’s for him. He’s nobody’s wingman—especially not when it comes to you.

❯ pairings: mark x virgin fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, friends to lovers

❯ words: 5.6k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, corruption kink, loss of virginity, nipple play, fingering, hand jobs, praising, body worship, protected sex, back scratching, brief possessiveness, pet names, reader uses she/her pronouns, swearing, love confessions, just fluffy smut because it’s what i do best lol.

Mark swears he’s a good listener. Considering he’s been friends with Zhong Chenle for years, the world’s most dedicated yapper, he doesn’t really have a choice. He has to be a good listener. But Mark almost does a double take when he hears the words ‘my virginity’ and ‘you’ come out of your mouth.

His best friend. With the biggest, prettiest, most innocent eyes and sweet little mouth that could barely stammer through conversations about flirting—asking him about sex. No. Not just asking. Wanting him.

After nearly choking on his own spit, Mark tries to regain his composure—but fails miserably. Especially when your cheeks flush, and you start chewing on your bottom lip. It’s a crime. No, worse. It’s sin in human form. You’re sin in human form. Looking this cute, blushing like a maniac, like you didn’t just drop that question on him.

“You want me to take your virginity, Y/N?”

You cringe the second he repeats your question back to you. It sounded a lot better in your head—practical, reasonable, totally fine. But now, with his brows furrowed and that ‘are you insane?’ look on his face, you’re starting to think maybe you are insane.

But when you came up with this plan last night, none of that crossed your mind. All you knew was that Mark never says no to you. Ever. Not when you asked him to be your first kiss in middle school. Not when you made him take you to your first frat party. Not even when you guilt-tripped him into helping with your dissertation.

"Look, forget it—" you say, pushing to your feet, desperate to escape your shared living room that suddenly feels way too hot under Mark’s stare. "I totally crossed a line by asking. I’m sure I can find someone on Tinder—"

"No."

You blink. "No?"

Mark wants to curse himself for the hasty reply, but who could blame him? There’s just no way he’s letting you swipe right on some douche bag looking for a quick fuck—some guy who’ll take you to a lousy bar, probably make you pay for your own drinks, and then expect to take your virginity like it’s nothing.

It’s ridiculous. It’s not happening.

Not when you just handed him the opportunity on a silver platter.

“What I meant to say was,” Mark rubs the back of his neck, “Don’t you want to lose your virginity to someone you trust—someone you love?”

You nod without hesitation. “That’s why I asked you. There’s not a single man I trust more than you. And I love you—platonically, yeah, but it’s still love.”

Platonic. 

If Mark could rip that word out of the dictionary, set it on fire, and launch the ashes into space, he would. Anything to stop you from thinking whatever he feels towards you is platonic. Was it platonic when he kissed you when you were eleven? No. Was it platonic when he drove ten miles just for your favourite snack on your birthday? No. Was it platonic when he worked on your final thesis at the same time as his own? No.

And if he’s going to be the first one to have you, it sure as hell won’t be platonic. That’s for damn sure.

His eyes squeeze shut as he sits forward, clammy hands rubbing up and down his jeans. "Okay, so you want me, your best friend, to take your virginity? Why?"

You chew your lip. This was the part of the scenario that kept you up at night—explaining why. How the hell are you supposed to tell someone you want them to take your virginity just so you can be ready for someone else? There’s no handbook, no online forum, for this kind of thing.

So you settle for:

“It’s stupid. A dumb reason. Don’t even worry about it. Will you do it or not?”

Mark gives you a knowing look, exactly like you knew he would. He’s one of those perspective fuckers, especially when it comes to you. Normally, you love it. Right now, not so much.

“Y/N,” he draws out your name, “What happened to me being one of the most trusted men you know? Tell me.” 

You suck in a breath, trying to steady yourself. After all, it’s just Mark. Sweet, kind, nonjudgmental, Mark. 

“I have a crush on my co-worker, Xiaojun,” you blurt out. Mark just blinks, completely still, like he’s trying to process. You, on the other hand, keep rambling. “And there’s rumours that he’s amazing in bed, and he asked me out for drinks this Friday, and I just feel really…unprepared.”

Mark feels his blood pressure spike—because fuck your co-worker, fuck those rumours and fuck that little date your planning to gone on this Friday night. Look, he’s not a prude or anything. Mark knows people fuck on a first date—but not you. At least not you with some asshole making you think you need to be prepared for him.

"If that asshole makes you feel less than just because you're a virgin, Y/N, he’s not worth your time."

You narrow your eyes. "I don’t think your opinion holds any weight here, considering you don’t think any guy is worth my time."

Mark relaxes slightly and smiles at that—because it’s true. No man deserves to talk to you, touch you, kiss you—no one but him.

“Besides,” you perk up again, trying to sound more confident. “This isn’t about what Xiaojun or any other guy thinks. This is about me… being comfortable having sex with someone that isn’t myself.” You chew your lower lip. “I want to be comfortable having sex with other men.”

Mark almost growls, a caveman-like urge pounding in his chest at the thought of you wanting to be comfortable with other men. He’s changed his mind. He’d take the word platonic any day over hearing other men leave your mouth.

“Let me get this straight—you want me to teach you how to fuck, to please other men?”

Your cheeks flush, not just because the idea sounds so ridiculous when he puts it like that, but because it’s the first time you've ever heard him talk like that. Mark is always so careful, so delicate with you, keeping his foul mouth and sex life locked away. But hearing the phrase "how to fuck" leave his mouth in that deep, husky drawl,  sends a pulse right through you, straight to your clit.

You chew your lip again, hesitating. “I don’t know… I just wanna be good... at it… at sex.”

Mark’s head tilts back as he stares at the ceiling, a string of mumbled curses slipping out before his Adam’s apple starts bobbing against his throat. He pauses to think—and so do you. You can’t figure out why he’s interrogating you like this. The proposition is a lot, yes, but if you’d crossed a line and made him uncomfortable, he could’ve just said so, you wouldn’t have taken it personally. There’s no reason for him to poke and prod like this.

Just as you're about to squash this whole thing, Mark speaks again. He looks up at you from his spot on the couch, his brows furrowed like he's still deep in thought, but his eyes, dark and blown wide, pin you in place.

"I'll teach you, Y/N," he says, standing up slowly. "I'll fuck you if that's what you want and if that’s what you're asking me for," he continues, moving closer until he's right in your personal space. "But I won't fuck you just to get you ready for someone else."

"Mark—"

"No, Y/N, I’m talking," he cuts you off, his long, tantalizing finger tracing from your cheek down to your neck before he whispers, "I don’t mind teaching you how to be good at sex with me, angel, but I’m sure as fuck not teaching you how to be good at it for someone else. If I finally get to fuck you, I’m gonna teach you how to be good for me."

Your mouth parts in a soft gasp, just from his words and that innocent touch alone. Mark’s eyes track the movement, and his irises darken with something you can’t quite name—want, lust, need... you don’t know. All you know is that it’s fucking hot, and it almost makes you miss what he just said.

"Finally?" you breathe out.

The corner of Mark's mouth twitches into a smile, and a low, silky laugh slips from him. "Don't pretend like you don't know I want you." His finger slides to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re too fucking smart to be playing dumb with me, Y/N. You know you could have me on my knees if you just asked. I’d do anything if you just asked.”

You always knew you had Mark wrapped around your little finger, but you never realized it was because he wanted you the same way you’ve wanted him. Yes, you’d only asked him to help you with this plan because you know he struggles to say no to you; but a small, twisted part of you wanted Mark to be the one to take your virginity. Because he’s him—hot, lean, experienced, sweet, loyal Mark. Your Mark. 

It’s all too much. His breath is too warm on your skin, his words too heated, his proximity too hot—he’s too hot. You whimper, and you watch as his pupils soften in response.

“Y/N,” he says softly now. “I need you to use your words to tell me what you want. If you don’t want to do this anymore—because, to me, it’s more than just practice—that’s fine. But if we do... this, us, it becomes real.”

Your mind goes fuzzy. Words? He thinks you have words after just confessing that this—that you—are something he wants? Almost like he senses your hesitation, he nuzzles deeper into your neck, his lips feather-light, dusting over your skin in a way that sets your nerves alight. It’s erotic, it’s intimate, it’s so damn sexy. 

“I’m serious, Y/N.” His voice is soft, breath scorching against your skin, thumb grazing over your collarbone like he’s memorizing you. “I’ve imagined you—craved you—for years. If you want me to take your virginity, I’ll do it. Happily. But I’ll be your first and your last—not Xiaojun.”

The mention of your coworker feels irrelevant now—a distant, meaningless fantasy compared to this. The stupid office daydream you’d clung to seems laughable because the man you thought only saw you as a friend is standing right here, offering himself to you. Completely. Utterly asking to be yours. And who are you to deny him?

“I want this—”

Mark doesn’t waste another second, doesn’t let you finish your sentence—because he’s wasted too much damn time already. Too much time waiting, hoping, aching to hear you want him. Not just need him for something, but actually want him. Crave him. Desire him.

He has to kiss you. Now.

It starts slow, soft, and sweet. Both your mouths take their time exploring one another as his hand tenderly cups your face, holding you to him. But in no time at all, the heat builds, kisses stretching longer, deeper, until it’s not enough for him. Not nearly enough for you. A hum of approval slips from you the moment his tongue grazes yours, and he takes it as permission, sweeping in and taking control.

“I have fucking dreamed about this,” he pants against your lips. “About kissing you. About touching you. Tell me to stop if it’s too much, Y/N.”

Stop? He’s out of his damn mind if he thinks you want to stop. You shake your head against his lips, legs winding around his, and he takes the hint without hesitation. His hands find your waist, lifting you with ease until you’re resting around his hips. His eyes are fully dark now, black, and locked onto you. They never waver as he carries you both to his bedroom.

Mark lays you down carefully, like you’d break if he was any rougher, but his gaze tells a different story—intense, burning, desperate. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, and he just stares, eyes roaming every inch of you like he’s savouring the moment before he ruins you completely. 

You’ve never been this intimate with a man before. Sure, you’re no stranger to your own fingers, to vibrators, and okay—maybe you don’t mind the occasional steamy make out session at a party. But this? In his room, under his stare, is different. You’re not even naked yet, and somehow, you already feel so bare, so exposed. 

“I want to take my time with you, Y/N,” Mark murmurs, as he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. He gently pushes you back so you’re lying flat, his body hovering over yours. “I want to savour every inch of this pretty little body of yours... and you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you pant, nodding at the same time, and Mark smiles, a slow, satisfied curve of his lips.

His hands slide up your legs, gliding over the fabric of your sweatpants, until they reach the hem. His eyes search yours, silently asking for confirmation, and you nod, breath catching in your throat. He tugs at your pants, so slow, so deliberate, and when they finally slip off, he lets out a low, groggy "fuck" at the sight of the pink lacy panties you’d chosen for this—for him.

You suddenly feel self-conscious, heat creeping up your chest.

"Knew I'd say yes, huh?" Mark coos, his hand tracing the band of your panties as he looks over your body, studying it because it's the first time he’s seeing you like this. Displayed for him.

You blush, squirming beneath him, overwhelmed by how new, how unfamiliar this all feels. Mark senses your discomfort and smiles softly.

"Don’t go shy on me now, pretty girl," he murmurs, "I’m losing my shit knowing you wore this with me."

His hands graze over your hip bone, fingers brushing gently, soothing as they explore the small hint of flesh you're revealing to him. The softness of his touch, of him, makes you ease up just a little.

“I wore the matching bra too,” you say on an exhaled breath.

Mark groans, his eyes closing as he takes in a slow, intentional breath of his own, nostrils flaring slightly. “Did you? Can I see, baby? Please?”

You nod, and those exploring hands of his glide up your stomach, fingers brush over your skin as he tugs the tight fabric of your tank top over your head. When it falls away, you're left in nothing but the matching set. The pink bralette, almost see-through, giving him a clear, vivid view of your pebbled nipples.

"So fucking beautiful, Y/N," he says, his voice strained, almost painfully. "Can you take it off for me?"

You smile, teasing, as your hands find the clasp at the back. "After I went through all this effort to put it on for you?"

He shakes his head with a small scoff of laughter, the sound easing your nerves a bit. That familiar banter, the playful back-and-forth, reminds you why you asked him—why you wanted him to do this in the first place. You trust him. 

“Is this the part where I learn that you’re a fucking brat?” he mutters, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“I can be, if you want me to be.”

Something flashes in his eyes—dark, predatory—and he leans in closer, his tone dropping an octave. “Take the bra off. Now, Y/N.”

And you do, the flimsy fabric slipping from your breasts and meeting the same fate as your sweats and tank. You feel so exposed, which is ridiculous considering how little modesty the bralette was offering in the first place. Still, your hands instinctively cross over your chest. 

"Hey, don’t," Mark murmurs, his hand gently reaching up to move yours, his thumb rubbing soft, soothing circles around your wrist to reassure you. "You don’t ever have to be embarrassed with me, Y/N. If you want to stop—”

"No," you interrupt. "I mean, please... I want this... I want you, Mark. I’m just nervous."

His eyes soften at your words, and he licks his lips. "Can I touch you?"

You nod, and his hands steadily, gently travel up and down your stomach, hovering around your sternum before they rest beneath your breasts. You suck in a breath as his touch lingers. "Can I touch you here?" he asks, and again, you nod. 

Mark’s hands gently cup your chest, the softness and weight of your tits filling his palms. The pad of his thumb teases over one of your nipples (pretty peaked nipples that are practically begging for his mouth) in a steady rhythm that has you arching into him. He continues, flicking over the sensitive bud until he elicits the reaction he wants: quiet, breathless whimpers and tiny darling moans from your mouth.

“You’re so damn perfect, Y/N,” he mutters, his eyes glued to your body as he tests his touches, watching in awe as your eyes flutter, roll, or widen. “So damn perfect for me.”

You moan, and his head dips to the valley between your breasts, his tongue flicking out to trail a slow, heated path up your skin. His mouth, warm and wet, captures your pebbled nipple, sucking and licking with a hunger that makes your body shiver. It’s then that you remember why Mark is perfect for this—he’s experienced. 

“Pretty fucking tits,” he groans, “I’ll fuck these one day. Promise.”

He focuses entirely on your nipples, squeezing your breasts, and you swear you're already on the verge of coming undone for him, writhing beneath him. Terrified it’ll end too soon, your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him away from your chest to capture his lips in a desperate kiss. 

His chest hovers over you, so close to you, but still hidden beneath layers of fabric. His jeans, too tight, too impeding. You want to feel him—skin to skin. It’s not fair. You’re lying here in nothing but your underwear, exposed and vulnerable, while he’s still fully dressed—his clothes a frustrating barrier that keeps you from feeling him the way you need to. You can’t stand it anymore.

Your fingers dig into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, desperate to rip it off and close the damn distance. "Mark," you breathe. "Take it off. Please."

“You want it off, huh?” He teases. 

You’re beyond patience now, body aching for him. “Yes. I do.”

Mark’s eyes darken at the desperation in your voice. He sits up slightly, pulling away from you just enough to shed his shirt, the fabric tugging over his head and revealing the toned muscles of his chest. You can’t help but watch, your eyes glued to the way his hands move, but he’s taking his damn time. Frustrated, you reach for his belt, but he stops you, his hand brushing yours as he undoes it himself. The sound of it unbuckling makes your breath hitch. 

Finally, his jeans slip down, revealing the taut curve of his thighs before he kicks them aside, leaving him in nothing but his black boxers. His bulge is prominent, straining against the tight material, and you swear you can’t take it any longer.

But before you can pounce, before you can touch him and feel him the way you want to, he’s hovering back over you, his body pinning you down, forcing your back flat against the bed.

“So eager, pretty girl,” he muses with a teasing smirk. “But you asked me to teach you, didn’t you? I’m in charge.”

He’s so controlled, so assertive, it sends a flood of need coursing through your body. His hands are back on you, gliding over your now fully exposed body. Well, not entirely exposed—his fingers toy at the edge of your panties, tracing, testing, taunting, as if waiting for your permission. And you’d give him it immediately, only he wants to ride this out, prolong it. 

His fingers move to dip just beneath the fabric, but then he stops.

“I know you said you wanted to be good at this, Y/N,” he hums. “But I want to be good for you. Tell me what you like. Tell me how to touch this pretty pussy.”

Heat floods your cheeks and pools between your legs. From the way Mark smiles, and the fact that he’s cupping you through your underwear, you know he can feel it too.

“I-um—”

“I already told you to stop being shy with me, Y/N,” he says. “Don’t think I overlooked that comment about you getting yourself off. You wanna learn, so do I. Let me be a good boy for you.”

Your eyes lock onto his, and you can see the seriousness. He wants to know what makes you tick, what works for you, what gets you off—wants to be the one to do it. His breath hitches as he studies you, chest contracting with focus. 

“I-I start with my clit,” you instruct, and his fingers follow suit, finally dipping under the fabric he’s been teasing for the last ten minutes right to the spot. You want to feel embarrassed telling him all the dirty ways you play with yourself, but you can’t. He won’t let you feel that way, because, like you said, he’s him—sweet, loyal Mark.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re dripping for me,” he groans, voice thick with need. “Aching for me, aren’t you, baby?” You nod pathetically. “Then tell me, what do you do to your clit? Teach me.”

“I like small circles,” you whisper, your breath shaky.

“Like this?” he asks, his voice low as he carefully follows your instructions. It’s almost too careful. Too slow. You need more—so much more.

“Faster, Mark.”

His fingers speed up, the circles on your clit growing faster, the pressure he applies intensifies with each stroke. You moan, squirming beneath him, your hips shifting in desperate need for more—more of him.

"Can I try a finger, baby?" he asks, and you nod, wanting everything he has to give right now.

Mark shifts his gaze from your face down to where his hands are stuffed inside your panties. He watches as he trails his index finger up and down your slit slowly until it’s circling around your entrance before finally easing it inside. You gasp, feeling the initial stretch, and his eyes lock back onto yours, waiting for the sting to fade and the lust to take its place again. Once it does, he begins to move, his finger sliding in and out, in and out, faster and faster until your breaths come heavier. 

“Mark,” you gasp on a moan, a thrill coursing through you as he picks up the pace. 

Mark adds his thumb back to your clit, the combination of his fingers easing in and out of your drenched pussy and the attention to your sensitive nerves send waves of pleasure crashing over you. Because cumming has never felt like this—so close, so quick, so desperately needed. Mark must sense your closeness too because his lips quirk, devilish and taunting.

“You gonna cum on my fingers, pretty girl?” he asks, but it’s clearly not a question. The cocky bastard knows you are. “Or should I say finger? Think you could handle two?”

Your mind is incoherent from the pleasure, the foreign stretch of his fingers. Any thoughts you have dissolve into a haze of need, only capable of a frantic nodding at him because you want more, need more, need to cum. He eases in his middle finger, both digits slowing down as you adjust to him. Then, the world around you blurs; all that matters is the rhythm of his fingers and the growing knot forming in your stomach as his pace picks up. Each thrust pushes you closer to the edge, and you can feel the waves of your orgasms building, until it finally, deliciously, crashes over you. 

Your vision blurs, and sounds you didn't even know you could make slip from your lips. All you can hear is Mark's incoherent, muffled praise—telling you how pretty, how perfect, how good you are for him.

When you come down from your high, he’s watching you intently, his hand running through your hair as you refocus back on him with hazy eyes. You’ve never experienced an orgasm like that, and as you notice the strained bulge in his pants, a surge of eagerness wells up in you. You want to return the favour, to please him, to learn how to be good the way you asked him to twach you.

You reach for his boxers, fingers trembling as you strip them off, revealing the thick hard length of him. Your breath catches at the sight of his cock, angry and needy and desperate. Mark looks down at you with his own haze-induced eyes. 

“Please, Y/N.”

The heat radiating from him ignites a fire within you. You take a moment to admire the way he looks at you—hungry, eager. With a newfound confidence, you lean closer, your lips brushing against his skin, ready to give him the pleasure he’s so generously given you. You press soft, delicate kisses to his abdomen, watching as his stomach flexes in response.

You know you probably should suck his cock right now; that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Almost as if he can sense your hesitation, Mark’s fingers clamp around your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You don’t have to, not yet, not ever if you don’t want to,” he says softly. “But you can touch it. Touch me, Y/N, please.”

That feels more like your speed, so you wrap a firm hand around his cock, giving it a slow, steady long tug. Mark's head rolls back from where he sits on the bed. Your hands tremble with nerves, this is all so new to you, and you desperately want to please him. But before you can overthink it, Mark’s words soothe your insecurities.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, “Just like that... so fucking good, Y/N.”

He's like a fucking mind reader, because that one comment, that small ounce of reassurance, has you stroking him faster. Your hand moves in a messy rhythm, feeling the weight of his cock in your palm. 

As you continue to stroke him, you start to experiment with different techniques, trying out gentler touches and firmer grips. Mark's reactions are your guide, and you watch as his face contorts in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut as he lets out low groans. He sounds so sexy, you like it, you want more of him like this. 

You feel a sense of power, knowing that you're the one bringing him to the edge. Your strokes become more insistent, your hand moving faster as Mark's breathing quickens. You can feel his cock throbbing in your hand, the veins standing out as he gets closer.  Mark's body tenses, his muscles straining and that’s when suddenly, his eyes snap open. 

“You gotta stop, Y/N,” he growls, his voice low and husky as he pulls your hands off his length. For a moment, you almost feel scorned, but then he adds, “I want to last until I’m at least inside of you...”

You both laugh, Mark's eyes crinkling at the corners as he chuckles, and you feel a flutter in your chest. He gently lies you back on his bed, grabbing a pillow and placing it underneath your hips. As he fumbles with his nightstand, he rips open a condom and slides it along his cock. You can't help but watch, mesmerized by the sight. It’s oddly sexy. Your body responds instinctively, your hips arching upwards as if seeking him out. 

As Mark positions himself between your legs, his head dips down to kiss you. It’s sweet, like the first time, and you think you could get used to them—you want to get used to them. The feeling of his lips on yours, on your cheek, the top of your head. 

When your lips finally break apart, he holds eye contact with you, aligning himself with your pussy. He teases you, brushing against your folds, occasionally grazing your clit—his eyes watching your reaction, a smirk on his lips. Sensitive, he notes. And he has to note because there will be a time for more, a time where he’ll make you work for it. But today isn’t that day. Today is about you and him—together.

“Tap my arm if it’s too much. If you want to stop—”

“Mark,” it’s your turn to be stern now. “Please, just fuck me.”

He smirks, liking this side of you—the impatience, the newfound dirty mouth of yours. Something else to note for next time, he thinks.

Rubbing himself up and down your slit for a final time, Mark presses the head of his cock to your entrance, hips shifting forward to slowly push into you. His nostrils flare, and his teeth clench because he has to be careful, he has to be in control. He cannot—he will not—hurt you any more than he has to. 

So, slowly. Torturously slowly. Mark eases into you, inch by tantalizing inch, until his tip coaxes past the small ring of resistance. You’re so tight—so impossibly tight—that he almost regrets letting you jerk him off before hand,  because he’s already teetering on the edge of cumming from merely the first few inches. He’s waited far too long for this moment; the last thing he wants is to blow his load before he’s even begun to move.

He shifts his focus from his own pleasure to your face, keenly observing for any signs of discomfort. When he catches the slight scrunch of your nose, he leans down to kiss you, wanting to distract you from the sting of you stretching around his cock for the first time.

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl. You were made for me.”

He feels your body relax into the mattress at the praise and your hands wrap around his back, pulling him closer. It’s a silent invitation, a clear signal that you’re okay with more—that you need more.

His hips finally press flush against yours, your legs spreading wider to accommodate him, all of him. Your fingers dust up and down his spine as you get used to this, how full you feel, how complete. 

“Move, Mark,” you whisper barely above a whisper. “Please.”

And he does. He rolls his hips, pulling out of you completely before sinking back in, slow and sensual. You moan—right into his ear, because he’s buried in your neck—and he nearly loses the last thread of control he’s holding onto. Mark quickens his pace, keeping his body flush against yours—like he needs to be as close as possible. Needs to consume you the same way you’ve consumed him for years.

“Yes, Mark,” you cry, your nails raking down his back, scratching, digging, marking into his skin.

“Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good. You have no idea how fucking perfect you are.”

He reaches for your hand, prying it from his back to lace his fingers with yours, pinning them to the mattress. It’s gentle, it’s sweet—it’s so Mark. He fucks you slowly, his hands holding yours as he kisses you. Intimate, tender, and so fucking hot.

You tighten around him, and the squeeze makes something flicker in Mark’s eyes—something determined, something feral.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper between ragged breaths.

“Fuck, yes—please,” he groans. “Cum around my cock, pretty girl. I need it. I want it.”

Hearing him just as desperate, just as needy as you, sends you over the edge. Your lip trembles, your lashes flutter, and then—your second orgasm takes over you, ripping a scream of his name from your throat.

It’s the prettiest thing Mark’s ever seen, ever heard—the best thing he’s ever felt. And he swears this moment will be etched into his memory until the day he dies. He holds you close to his chest as you ride your high, feeling every desperate breath you take, swallowing every moan with wet open mouth kisses. And when he senses you’ve finally come down, he chases his own orgasm—greedy for it, for you.

He becomes ravenous for his own release, his hips pistoning faster, harder, as he drives deeper into you. His breaths come in ragged gasps, his chest contracting as his fingertips anchor your hips in place. With every thrust his cock throbs with an almost unbearable intensity until he lets out a low, guttural groan, his body shuddering with pleasure. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispers your name, over and over again, like a mantra and he spills inside of the condom. 

The room fills with a silence, punctuated only by the sound of your mingled breaths as he comes down. Your hands are still entwined, hearts still racing, and you both can’t do anything but look at each other. Eventually, Mark leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling away. He eases out of you, removes the condom, and tosses it into the nearby trash can.

You watch him as he moves, and when he turns back to you—his gaze a mix of awe and satisfaction—you can’t help but smile.

“You know when I said I loved you platonically?” you ask, and his brows knit together. He looks like he’s about to have a full-blown panic attack, so you quickly put him at ease. “I lied. I actually just love you.”

Relief washes over his face before it melts into a smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Good. Because, I love you too. Always have.”

[wosospacegirl]

Enjoy your treat - Alexia Putellas

Summary: Something about Alexia being a provider makes my legs weak.

a/n: Not really a fic-fic--more like a soft rant because I needed a break from studying virology (send help). It’s messy, unpolished, but full of love for the idea of Alexia casually spoiling you <3

..

Alexia isn’t loud about the fact that she makes bank.

She’s quiet about itt, almost casual–like the way she slips a shopping bag onto the table without a word. You’ll be doing something totally normal, studying on the sofa, reading, journaling, and she just… walks by. 

Drops it. Kisses the top of your head.

And then leaves.

No announcement. No explanation.

The first time it happened, you stared at the sleek black bag like it was going to explode.

“Alexia Putellas,” you called, squinting suspiciously. “What is this?”

She appeared in the doorway, hair damp from a shower, brow raised innocently.

“You said your sneakers were getting uncomfortable.”.

You looked inside.

They weren’t just new sneakers. 

They were handcrafted, limited-edition, in the exact colour you said you liked to wear.

A colour you mentioned once. Half-asleep. Two weeks ago. Sage green.

Alexia shrugged again like it was nothing. It’s never nothing.

She listens. Stores it all somewhere behind that pretty face of hers, waiting for the right moment to use it against you, with love, of course. She just goes around buying stuff and hides them away until she’s ready to give them to you.

It starts to become a thing.

The surprise bags. The quiet kisses. 

The no-comment luxury dropped into your everyday like it doesn’t mean anything.

Until one day, you snap.

You’re tired, high-strung from back-to-back classes, your laptop balanced on your knees and flashcards falling everywhere, when she sets another box down in front of you.

You don’t even look up.

“Alexia,” you say, voice tight. “You don’t have to keep buying me things.”

She doesn’t respond right away. Just watches you with that maddening calm of hers, hands in her pockets like she’s done nothing but breathe.

“I have a job, Ale”, you say, sharper this time. “A real one. That pays me, I can buy my own stuff.”

Did you work part-time on an internship that paid you half a living wage? Yes. Could you really buy your own stuff? No. But you didn’t want Alexia to actually know that.

Alexia tilts her head slightly, then speaks, very softly, completely unfazed.

“I know,” she says. “You work because you want to. Not because you need to.”

She leans down, kisses your cheek, and walks out of the room.

You look at the box.

It’s a watch. Sleek, elegant, and, when you look up the model later, worth more than your rent.

 Which you haven’t paid in six months. Because Alexia bought you the flat.

Yes. She bought a whole flat once she learned about the whole rent situation

You tried to argue about that, too. You lost.

Alexia’s love language is acts of service. Providing. Protecting.

If you are getting sick, she’s already called your doctor, moved your meetings, tucked you into bed, and, somehow, gotten your mom on FaceTime even though you definitely didn’t give her that number??

Your period starts? She’s already next to you with painkillers, the most expensive chocolate on the market, and her big warm hands pressed gently to your lower stomach. Like she could draw the pain out of you if she just loved hard enough.

You’re cold? She doesn’t say “go get a hoodie.”

She leaves and comes back with the hoodie—the one you pointed at online and didn’t buy because you were trying to be smart, trying to be careful.

You let her dress you in silence.

And she never, ever asks for anything in return.

You tried to talk her out of it. The gifts. The money.

You argued. You begged. Damn you even cried once.

And so she stopped, kind of.

Instead of new things appearing every day, you started getting silent deposits into your account. Small at first. Then not-so-small.

You didn’t ask for them. You didn’t use them.

You lasted two months. You didn’t use Alexia’s money for two whole months.

“Teimona,” she muttered every time she checked your untouched balance. “Dios mío, you’re so stubborn.”

But then it happened. 

The coffee shop happened. :) 

It was sunny. Warm enough for a jacket but not quite coat weather. You were both in sunglasses, fingers laced, laughing about something dumb when you stepped into the café.

You ordered (Alexia was the one who talked to the man on the counter actually)

Then you sat down and waited.

Alexia reached for her bag, then froze.

“Shit,” she muttered, eyes wide. “I forgot my wallet.”

You blinked. “Oh?”

“I’m going back to get it, I’ll be quick.” She said, already getting up.

“No,” you said, stopping her with a hand on her arm. “Stay.”

She frowned.

And you smiled.

A slow, smug thing.

You reached into your bag. Opened your wallet like it was a grand reveal. 

Slowly. Deliberately.

Alexia narrowed her eyes like she knew she was being played but couldn’t stop it.

“Don’t worry, amor,” you said, too sweet. “It’s on me. Enjoy your treat.”

Her coffee suddenly didn’t taste quite right.

You watched her sip it anyway, expression murderous.

You sat back in your chair, victorious.

And yes, you used her deposit to pay for it. And no, you did not feel bad. 

At least this time.

[fashion-runways]

hiii new pinned post again because the last one was outdated, there are links to the previous ones in that one as well. unfortunately there are no real updates re: my dad's wrongful imprisonment. at this point, they might be waiting until the statutes of limitations happen and it's over, i don't know. he has a therapist who's kind of expensive but we have to pay for and he has to go weekly because of all the trauma he has left from being in jail and from losing his job/not being able to find a new one because of this. his health got worse in there, too, so there are a lot of different doctors he has to go to, medications, etc. he's doing better every day, though, but that takes a lot of money of course.

i used to have a redbubble account that helped me get afloat alongside this blog, but it got suspended without notice and never got reinstated no matter how many things i've tried, so... that's another source of income that we lost. i used to make around 30/40 dollars a month there, now i make like 1/2 dollars on teepublic monthly, that's a huge difference. argentina's economy was always bad but it has been an absolute disaster since the current president got elected. prices rise literally on a weekly basis for everything from basic groceries to public transportation, power, water, phone bills, etc. my laptop's keyboard broke at some point and i almost had to buy a new one with money i literally didn't have, just going into negative numbers, but i managed to find a guy who replaced it for as cheap as he could. it was still expensive, but it was better than having to buy a new laptop entirely. would love to get a stable job, but that's always been impossible in this country, even more so lately. for updates on argentina in english, this person on twitter makes very good informative threads if you're interested.

on top of that my dog passed from cancer a few weeks ago, that was really expensive for us too, meds and appointments and special foods and everything that we could do to keep her happy until it was her time to go, and she was. i also started therapy around the time she was diagnosed (thank god) but my therapist had to rise her rates because of the economy mess i already mentioned, so... yeah. everything is exhausting and everything is expensive, and this is literally my only source of income. it's also the thing that i love doing the most and the thing that keeps me sane in all of this mess, so hey, never leaving. in fact, if anything ever happens to this website, you can always find me under fashion_runways on twitter or probably anywhere else. some of you guys mentioned not seeing my posts lately too, so if you can/want to, you can turn notifications on!

anyway yeah, all that to say i love this blog, i love fashion, and i love showing you guys new cool things and giving you guys ideas for art, or writing, or your own style, or just interesting stuff to look at. so if you can donate any money, that would help me more than you think. even a single dollar can change what i can do with my day sometimes, i swear. as usual, my kofi link: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my teepublic link: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. thanks for being around and sharing and reblogging my posts, thanks for asking questions about fashion, and of course thanks for helping to the ones who can, and thanks to the ones who can't too, i know how that feels like, don't worry about it. i love you 💖

[itsaintmebabe]

when it matters most

summary: when y/n is gravely injured and brought back to town, joel must confront his feelings and the fear of losing her.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

notes: something about hurt to comfort is just my fav

Jackson was quiet until the yelling started.

“Open the gate! Open the gate!”

Joel’s heart slammed against his ribs as the urgency in the voices hit him. The panic in them twisted something deep and cold inside him. He didn’t think, he just ran.

Since he and Ellie had arrived in Jackson, Joel and Y/N had been at odds. They clashed over everything patrol schedules, supply counts, even the best way to fortify the gates. Their arguments were loud and frequent, and everyone in Jackson had learned to steer clear when the two of them were in the same room.

But when the other wasn’t looking, it was different.

Joel’s eyes would soften when he caught a glimpse of her laughing with the kids in town. Y/N’s gaze would linger when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, watching the way his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Neither would admit it, not even to themselves.

One of their worst fights had happened just days before.

“You act like you’re the only one who’s ever lost someone, Joel!” Y/N’s voice cracked with the force of her anger. “You shut everyone out like it’s some kind of punishment!”

“You don’t know a damn thing about my losses,” Joel shot back, his face hard. “So don’t stand there and act like you understand!”

“I understand more than you think! But you’re too busy pushing everyone away to see it!”

“Maybe I push you away because you keep pushin’ in where you’re not wanted!” The words lashed out before he could stop them, and the second they did, he regretted them. But it was too late.

Y/N’s face fell, the fire in her eyes dimming. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

But now, now she was stumbling toward Jackson, covered in blood.

Joel’s heart dropped.

Her steps were uneven, her body swaying like she could barely stay upright. Blood streaked her face, her jacket was soaked with it, and her arms hung limp at her sides. There was no horse. No patrol group. She was alone.

“Y/N!”

His voice cracked as he sprinted toward her.

Her eyes lifted when she heard him, and even through the exhaustion and pain, she tried to move faster. But she didn’t make it far. Her knees buckled, and Joel reached her just in time, catching her before she hit the ground.

“Joel…” her voice was weak, barely above a whisper.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, brushing her hair back from her face. “Stay with me, baby, just stay awake, alright? Keep your eyes on me.”

She was trembling violently, her skin far too cold, and without thinking, Joel shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her. The fabric drowned her, but it was warm, and that was all that mattered. She curled into it instinctively, her fingers weakly grasping at it as if she could pull his warmth closer.

“Stay with me,” Joel pleaded again, his voice breaking. “Y/N, please.”

People rushed around them, calling for help, but Joel barely heard them. His world narrowed to the woman in his arms.

When they finally took her from him, Joel didn’t let go, he carried her himself, his arms tight around her, as if holding her close could keep her safe. She went still against his chest, and his heart pounded with fear.

The waiting was agony.

He stood outside the infirmary, his hands still stained with her blood and the blood of others. It was impossible to tell which was hers, and the not knowing made his stomach twist. His fingers trembled as he stared down at them, the blood of the woman he cared about more than he could admit, and there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do to stop it.

Ellie found him pacing the hallway. “She’s tough,” she said quietly. “She’ll pull through.”

But Joel couldn’t shake the cold fear lodged in his chest.

It felt like forever before the door finally opened and Maria stepped out. “She’s stable,” she said, and Joel’s knees nearly buckled with relief.

When he finally saw her, she was pale and bandaged, but breathing. Alive.

Joel sat beside the bed, his rough hand brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered. “I— I didn’t know if—” he swallowed hard. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, tired but focused on him. “Why… why are you here?” she asked softly.

“Because I care,” Joel said, his voice thick. “More than I ever wanted to admit. And I’m sorry, for every damn thing I said. For every time I pushed you away when all you ever did was try.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “You… you pushed so hard, Joel. It hurt.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I know it did. And it was never because I didn’t care. It was because I cared too much. I was scared, Y/N. Scared of losin’ you before I even had you.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “You have me,” she whispered.

Joel let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against hers. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “But I swear to you, I’m not pushin’ you away again.”

For the first time, her hand reached for his, their fingers tangling together. And when he climbed onto the bed beside her, she didn’t let go. She rested her head against his chest, and Joel pressed a gentle kiss to her hair.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he promised, his voice a soft vow.

And this time, she believed him.

[itsthewritergal]

don't tell Bucky - B.Barnes x reader

Summary: Reader is broke and refuses to tell mob!bucky the extend of it

TW: fluff, happy ending, little swears, mention of money, getting fired, (think that's everything)

ENJOY!!

:)

Y/N was used to the biting cold in her apartment, it had been a long few months with her hours being cut down and bills piling up she was in debt. Badly. She had started cutting costs where possible, heating was the first to go, she had opted for  not turning the heating on despite the freezing temperatures outside, food was the second thing to go, she had starting making meals stretch and eating less and slowly things seemed a little more manageable. The bills continued to pile up, yet things seemed a little easier. Every single penny was put to the side to clear her debt. She had been seeing Bucky as much as possible but she couldn’t talk to him about it, he would just offer to pay her debt off and then she’d owe him for almost the rest of her life. She couldn’t ask him. She wouldn’t. Bucky had picked her up from work, it was a surprise, and something Y/N was grateful for as she wouldn’t have to pay for the bus home. 

“Do you want to stay at mine tonight?” Bucky asked gently pressing a kiss to her cheek as they finished their heavy make-out session in the car 

“I’ve got work in the morning,” She said softly, breath slipping through her lips 

“Call in sick” Bucky said between kisses “You can go without one shift can’t you?” Bucky asked 

“We’re short staffed Buck, I need to be there” She lied easily, 

“Let me come in? I just want to hold you tonight” He said softly pressing another kiss to her lips. Y/N nodded in agreement, how could she ever say no to an offer like that? 

Bucky followed Y/N up the stairs to her apartment, she unlocked the door and was met by an icy breeze. Bucky shuddered. 

“Why is it so cold baby? Your heating broken?” He asked 

“Hmm?” Y/N asked turning around to face him 

“Your apartment Y/N, it’s cold” 

“Oh, sorry Buck I turned the heating off” 

“For good?” Bucky asked closing the door behind him “Or is it broken?” He asked

“Oh, no I just turned it off whilst I was at work” Y/N said softly, 

“Why would you do that?” Bucky asked again pulling Y/N into an embrace 

“It was just while I went to work Buck”

“That’s not safe doll, you should keep the heating on so you don’t get ill, even when you’re not home. You need to come into a warm house” Bucky said, Y/N resisted the urge to cry. 

“I usually do Bucky, it was just a one off” she said. 

Bucky didn’t mention the heating again that night. Y/N was grateful for that small mercy. What he did mention was the mountain of blankets that sat on her bed. 

“Doll?” He called from her bedroom 

“Yeah?” She replied coming into the bedroom, her eyes falling on Bucky’s metal hand clasping three blankets, 

“You coming down with something?” He asked “I can call Banner to come and check on you if you want?” 

“Oh Buck, no I’m ok. Just get cold when you’re not here” She said, it wasn’t a complete lie, just a small one. It made her feel a little better. 

“You know you could just move in with me?” Bucky offered 

“Don’t be silly Bucky, we’ve spoken about this” She said and Bucky stopped himself from starting an argument by pressing his lips to hers. 

— — — 

The next few weeks were tricky. Y/N had started picking up more shifts than she could count which lessened her time to do anything; most of all see Bucky. 

When one fateful day put Y/N’s life into a tailspin, 

“Y/N could you come into my office when you get a moment please?” Her boss’s voice cut through the noise, and Y/N felt a panic run through her body, 

“I’ll come now” She said quickly, hurrying behind the shorter lady, “is everything ok?” 

“Take a seat Y/N” She said, Y/N knew this wasn’t good, she never asked her to take a seat before, this had got to be bad news. 

“Have I done something wrong?” 

“No, Y/N you’re one of the best workers we have here” She said taking a deep breath “but we can’t afford to keep you on, with prices and wages going up we’re cutting down to less staff members and well it’s only fair that we let you go first. You’ve got enough experience to get another job quickly whereas the others don’t” 

“You mean the others are cheaper because they are younger?” Y/N said noticing the true meaning behind her words. 

“That isn’t what we are doing Y/N” her boss spoke halfheartedly 

“When do I leave?” Y/N asked dejectedly, knowing it was a loosing battle 

“Today’s your last shift, you are let go without holiday pay or leave notice” She said passing Y/N an envelope “All the necessary documents are in here, please hand your keys in at the end of the shift” 

“No need to wait” Y/N said, pulling her work keys out her bag and putting them on the desk. Picking up the envelope, Y/N walked out. 

The walk home was a cold one, not only because of the biting wind but Y/N felt empty, numb, like she’d just been caught in the rain. She wanted to call Bucky, but after her neglect of him she knew that he was probably mad at her and calling him to cry would not be the best way to go. However, her ringtone cut Y/N’s moping thoughts short, 

“Hello?” 

“Doll, oh thank god. Steve just told me he passed you on the street, he’s turning around to pick you up so don’t go anywhere. What’s happened?” Bucky asked 

“Nothing Buck, I’ll talk to you later, tell Steve not to worry” 

“No, he’s picking you up and you can come here or go home then come here, or just head home if that’s what you want but I’d rather Steve did it than you walk yourself doll okay?” He said 

“It’s going to happened whatever I say right?” Y/N chuckled halfheartedly, the lack of reply on Bucky’s end confirmed it “I’ll wait for Steve” 

“Good girl, I’ll see you soon” He said ending the call quickly. 

As if on cue Steve’s car pulled into view, 

“Hey Y/N, Buck’s waiting for you” He said opening the door for her, 

“Thanks Steve” 

After a few quiet minutes Y/N answered the question which was burning in Steve's mind, 

“I got fired” She said quietly, 

“They did what? Oh Buck won’t be happy, how dare they” Steve said forcefully, 

“They can’t afford me apparently” Y/N chuckled sadly 

“Bullshit” 

“Promise you won’t tell Bucky?” She asked 

“I won’t lie to him if he asks” Steve said “But I’ll divert attention so he doesn’t ask” Steve agreed quietly 

— — — — — 

Y/N had avoided Bucky for another two weeks, she hadn’t meant to. But she had been sending CV’s, babysitting, dog walking and selling small handmade bits online. Anything possible to make some money, she was yet to receive an interview or even any interest. It seemed that everyone was full of employees or was hiring younger staff, there was no place for Y/N. 

She had been dodging her landlord phone calls, and the electricity company and even a few others who she knew were angry that she hadn’t paid. Stretching her legs out wide on the floor she took a minute away from her laptop screen and picked up her phone. 

“I’m on my way, be there in 15” Bucky had texted around 15 minutes ago, Y/N let out a panicked sigh and started picking up the mess around her to try and make herself look presentable for Bucky, she had to keep up appearances. 

“Doll?” Bucky called through her apartment, 

“In here” She replied quickly shoving some dirty clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe, 

“Hey doll” He said softly pulling her in for a kiss, not seeming to notice her dishevelled state. 

“Hey Bucky” she pressed a kiss to his lips, something she had missed dearly. 

“I need to talk to you” Bucky said pulling her down to sit on the bed, she sat down with his hands gripped in hers as if he was about to disappear. 

“I know I’ve been awful Buck, I haven’t spoken to you and I’ve avoided you, please don’t be mad, I’ve just been so stressed and—”

Bucky quickly cut her off “I’m not breaking up with you Y/N” 

“You’re not?” 

“No, doll I’m not” 

“Oh” 

“I know what’s going on Y/N” he said sincerely 

“Nothing’s going on” 

“Doll I know” 

“Bucky nothing is going on”

“You got fired, you’ve been trying to find another job, you’ve been dog walking, which I’m not happy with because that’s dangerous when you don’t know the dog or the owner, and you’ve been selling your adorably little crochet animals online” Bucky said 

“You got someone to follow me” 

“You started shutting me out” Bucky justified 

“Fair enough” 

“Did I miss anything?” Bucky asked 

“No” Y/N said her eyes welling up with tears, she let go on Bucky’s hand to hide her face in them, 

“Oh doll, come here” Bucky said wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry all her stresses and troubles away onto his shirt, he knew once she had cried they would be able to talk through options properly. 

“I’m sorry” Y/N said with a sniffle 

“Can I finish what I was saying earlier?” Bucky asked, Y/N nodded silently “I’ve paid off all your debts, I did the landlord, electricity, water and that loan you took out, you can pay me back if you want to if you have the money, if not it’s my birthday present to you I know you won’t accept it any other way” He said 

“Bucky please”

“It’s already done” 

“I should be able to do this better,I  should be able to pay my fucking bills” 

“No” Bucky said calmly 

“No?” 

“No you’re not doing that. You are doing as best as you can. And I refuse to listen to that shit. Now put on a nice dress, we’re going out to eat” 

— — — — 

That night when Bucky and Y/N were laying in bed cuddled up to each other, Y/N decided to be brave 

“Bucky?” 

“Yes doll?” 

“Do you think I could move in with you?” She asked pressing a kiss to his chest “I don’t think I want to do this alone anymore” 

“Doll, I’d be delighted” 

[klausysworld]

(I’ve made this story so that Y/N is a blind girl. I had this idea in my head for a while and I hope that people who aren’t able to read my stories are able to hear them ☺️🩷)

To Feel Is To See

Klaus had found solace in admiring her.

He could tell she was blind, it’s not something one could really hide and she didn’t want to hide it anyways. In a twisted way he enjoyed knowing that she couldn’t see him.

It meant that he could watch her from afar without her knowing. He could see how effortlessly she glided through the busy streets of New Orleans, people would move out of her way whether she had her mobility cane or not. 

Her hair was always perfect, never a strand out of place. Her skin glowing and her outfits always complimenting her day in and day out.

There was just a comfortable air around her which he was drawn to. She seemed so light with each step, it put him at ease.

Safe; she seemed safe.

Klaus would sit quietly at his table, sketching away whilst systematically glancing up to check Y/N was still typing away on her laptop with her headphones in.

It took a good few weeks but eventually he started ordering the coffee she liked and having it sent over to her. 

He loved how she’d smile and he’d wonder where all his usual arrogance and confidence would vanish to when it came to her. 

Klaus hadn’t been paying attention when she approached him, her hand resting on his shoulder making him jump a little and quickly turn his sketch pad over only to look up at see her sweet face facing him. 

“Hi.” She greeted, a small smile on her lips, “You’ve been sending me drinks?” She asked, though it was quite clear that she already knew the answer. 

Klaus pushed himself out of his seat to take her hand from his shoulder and squeeze it gently.

“Yes, sweetheart. I’ve been sending them.” He admitted, a small lump forming in his throat as he fought the urge to touch her face. 

“And you’ve been staring?” Her head tilted and her tone was a little more accusatory. “In the streets.” She added, her hand pulling away from his as she folded her arms over her chest.

“Well-” He cleared his throat. Klaus was ever so slightly thankful that she couldn’t see his cheeks getting pinker. “How did you..” His brow furrowed and she huffed.

“Just because I can’t see you doesn’t mean I can’t feel those eyes of yours.” 

“Right, of course.” He muttered.

Klaus felt a little embarrassed with himself. 

Thankfully for him Y/n didn’t mind.

Luckily she wasn’t creeped out. 

Somehow, with a couple stumbles, Klaus managed to ask her on a date.

On his way home he only sighed to himself with slight humiliation.

Perhaps knowing that he couldn’t charm her with a simple smirk.

Most women would fall at his feet from the way he looked at them, they’d find him perfectly handsome and be all over him but with Y/N he had to show her build an attraction. 

Now after a thousand years Klaus had gotten very good with his words and his ways but it was harder to say them than it was to write it down. Usually a love poem would make a lady swoon but he couldn’t expect her to read a handwritten letter. 

So instead he studied braille and mimicked it by sticking push dots onto a sheet of paper to express his words. The paper was then cut into the shape of a heart and carefully transferred into her eager hands.

His cheeks practically glew red as he watched the joy paint her face as her fingertips ran across each letter. 

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” She beamed, the card was clutched tightly in her hand as she hesitantly opened her arm out a little. Klaus stepped forward quickly to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her into embrace. 

Y/N remained there for a moment before pulling back a little and smiling, “You smell nice.” She commented shyly and he grinned, his wolf almost purring as he fought the urge to nuzzle into her neck and hair. 

“So do you, love. You smell sweet like vanilla.” He murmured to her, his voice low near her ear making her shiver a little and reluctantly pull from his grasp. 

From there Klaus pulled the menus out and passed her one, he’d been too focussed on making the letter to remember that not restaurants were considerate enough to make braille menus. His expression dropped a little as he opened his and saw only words, he looked up quickly but Y/N hadn’t even bothered to open hers, she knew it wasn’t there. 

“Sorry,” His voice uttered, the lump in his throat back as he gently pulled her closer round the booth. “I’ll read it to you.” He insisted, his hand rubbing her arm comfortingly.

“It’s okay, I can just have something simple.” She brushed it off but he wouldn’t allow it.

He wouldn’t let her feel embarrassed that he had to read the dishes aloud to her, he took his time to explain each one until she was sure on the one she’d like the most. 

Apart from that the date went smoothly, they spoke a lot and enjoyed their meals before Klaus walked her home and up the stairs in her apartment block. He would worry with every step, the few little trips of her feet made his heart leap but the elevator was out of order, he almost bought her a bungalow as soon as he got home but he had to remind himself that he couldn’t scare her off. He needed to be normal.

As normal as a thousand year old original hybrid could be. 

Going out for lunch and dinner was taking the easy route, Klaus had realised.

He needed to be more creative.

Which was how they ended up in a pottery class for beginners, his hands guiding hers as they tried to create a heart shaped bowl. Klaus smiled to himself as he watched her trace the rim, checking the shape while he rested his chin on her shoulder. 

Over the weeks they went back a lot, ending up with a cupboard full of bowls, cups, plates and shelves of cute little ornaments. 

A couple times they’d tried baking, Klaus learnt after the first time to be on the lookout for any holes in the flour bag. 

They’d cooked together and Klaus quickly learnt that Y/N had exquisite taste, always being bang on when it came to flavours. Klaus would always be grabbing her taste testing spoon for her to check the sauce.

He couldn’t ever stop himself from gazing at her and she’d always remind him that she could feel his eyes. He hadn’t really thought too much about how she might see him until she asked.

“How…how do you look?” Y/N had asked, her voice almost hesitant when she did so.

Klaus looked down at her, they’d been led against each other and watching tv when she’d spoken up.

“My face?” He questioned, shifting a little to face her as she nodded. Klaus tried to explain his features but his words were clumsy and unclear, eventually he just sighed and tried to think of another way to show her. 

“You can feel” He mumbled faintly, his eyes glancing to her fingers before his hands gently grabbed her wrists and brought them to his neck.

Her head nodded and her hands pressed to his skin, fingertips gently gliding over the little moles making her smile as she followed up to his jaw. Klaus filled with warmth as he felt her hands feel across the stubble of his cheeks, her index finger slide along the slope of his nose before both hands following the curve of his eyebrows to pinpoint his eyes. Klaus’s gaze softened completely when her eyes seemed to look right into his.

“You said they’re blue?” She whispered, “Like how cold feels?” 

“Yeah…” He mumbled faintly, leaning into her touch as she traced across his forehead, giggling at the lines in his skin making him chuckle softly too. 

A small hum left him as she brushed his hair back, combing the curls between her fingers. 

“Blonde? Like how the sun feels on my skin?” She asked and he nodded, his head moving between her hands as she felt the shape of his ears. 

Slowly her hands slid back to her lap and her eyes drifted away from his as she smiled. 

“You’re beautiful.” She told him and he cupped her face, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“I wish you could see how perfect you are, but you’ll just have to make do with my words.” He murmured and she laughed softly.

“You tell me every day, how could I forget?” 

“I’ll make sure you never do.” He mumbled, his lips finding her jaw and neck with ease. “Your beauty is everlasting, in your face and in your soul.” 

In response Y/N pushed her face into his chest, making him cup the back of her head. “Don’t cry sweetheart.” He whispered, his other arm pulling her onto his lap. Klaus nuzzled into her hair and breathed out through his nose. 

Often her senses could overwhelm her a little but Klaus’s words always managed to push her over the edge. He always had such darling things to say or to write, to show her.

He’d show her every inch of the world in as many ways as he could manage.

He’d do anything for her.

[marauroon]

hihihi

would you be open to doing a request for my favourite boy remus <333

Potentially something surrounding the reader being jealous, but she's too proud to say anything about it, so it just eats away at her and makes her moodier and moodier until Remus calls her out for it.

lots of love!!!!

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY — REMUS LUPIN!

you love that remus loves his friends, but maybe he loves them a little too much.

remus lupin x fem!reader | angst | 2.4k | masterlist!!

part one. | part two.

a/n — say it with me now, miscommunication ruins relationships

You didn’t mind it at first.

“Hey dollface, mind if we nick Remus for a bit?”

It was sweet to know Remus had such close friends.

“Sorry sweetheart, we need to borrow Moony for the evening,”

But they were maybe a little too close.

You weren’t even sure it was intentional.

After all, it was only every now and then that Remus was pulled away by his friends - it wasn’t all the time.

You’d been dating for four months, and you trusted Remus. Of course you did. He was sweet, and kind, and affectionate.

He was also completely devoted to his friends.

But you couldn’t help but miss when the two of you used to spend the evenings curled up together in the library.

Or sneaking off after class to a secluded corner of the castle where you could steal a few precious moments alone.

You missed his hugs, and his warmth, and his scent...

But most of all, you missed having him all to yourself.

You don’t remember when it started, exactly, the festering jealousy that curls in your chest like a fist, squeezing tighter each time you see him laugh with someone else.

It’s stupid.

You know it’s stupid, but you can’t help the way your eyes follow him across the common room when he’s too busy to notice you.

The worst part is that it’s not even a secret you’re jealous of his attention. Well, no, maybe not the worst part—that’s the way you can’t say anything about it. You won’t. You don’t dare.

It’s just... the way he talks to James, all that easy, effortless camaraderie that makes you want to throw something. They have a thousand inside jokes, jokes you don’t understand, not because they’ve ever tried to exclude you but because they have a history that doesn’t include you.

You weren’t there for all the pranks in first year, the secret escapades sneaking out to the kitchens at midnight, or the long summer days spent on Quidditch pitches and lounging under the sun.

You came later. The new addition. The outsider.

You’re always on the edges of their conversations, and Remus—Remus always tries to pull you in, you know that. He notices when you don’t speak up, when you’re lingering a little too far from the fire, or when you force a laugh at something you don’t understand.

He smiles at you, and it makes your chest ache, because you don’t want to be the one who needs inviting. You want to be the one he turns to first, the one he laughs with without hesitation, the one he seeks out with that soft look in his eyes like you’re something worth paying attention to.

So you keep quiet. You don’t make a fuss when Remus spends hours talking to Sirius about something you don’t understand—some Muggle band that Sirius loves and Remus pretends not to.

You don’t say anything when they all throw an arm around Remus’s shoulders and walk down the corridors together, a trio of arms and laughter and secrets that you’re not a part of.

It’s fine. It’s fine. You tell yourself you’re just being silly, immature. You’re not his only friend. Even if you were his girlfriend. Why should it matter if he spends more time with them than he does with you?

But it does matter. It eats at you.

The jealousy burns hotter and uglier the longer you try to hide it. You try to ignore it, you really do, but it gets harder and harder when you see how Remus lights up around them, when he laughs at one of James’s jokes and doesn’t turn to share a private smile with you.

You start to snap without meaning to. It’s little things at first. A muttered insult about James when he makes a show of scoring during a quidditch practice you’d been dragged along to, a rolled eye when Sirius talks too loudly in the library.

You scoff when Remus gushes about the new Defence Against the Dark Arts book he’s found, your voice clipped as you say, “Not everyone’s as obsessed with books as you are.”

Remus pauses, eyes narrowing slightly, but you just turn away. It’s easier to walk away than to see the flicker of hurt that flashes across his face.

It’s not just the words, though. It’s the way you’ve started to withdraw. You don’t linger in the common room as much anymore when the four of them are there, joking and chatting like they don’t even notice you’ve slipped away.

You bury yourself in your schoolwork in the library instead, disappearing for hours until you can barely remember what it’s like to sit by the fire with them.

You tell yourself it’s better this way. You’re doing everyone a favour by staying out of their way, by not making them uncomfortable with your ridiculous jealousy.

Except, of course, you’re not really staying out of Remus’s way at all. You keep an eye on him from across the Great Hall at meals, pretending not to care when he laughs at something Sirius says.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter when he waves you over to their table and you pretend not to see, burying your nose in your Potions textbook instead. It’s easier that way, safer, to keep your distance so he doesn’t realize what a mess you are inside.

You don’t even realize how obvious it’s becoming until one evening in the common room. It’s late, almost curfew, and most of the Gryffindors have already gone to bed.

You’re sitting in the corner, flipping through the same page of your Transfiguration textbook for the fourth time when you hear Remus’s voice from across the room. He’s with James and Sirius again, and they’re talking about the next Quidditch match.

You don’t mean to listen, but you can’t help it. Every time Remus’s voice rises above the others, you find yourself gripping the edge of your book a little tighter.

“—and if you pull that move you practiced last week, Gryffindor’ll have a real chance—” Remus is saying, his eyes alight with excitement, and something in your chest twists.

You can’t stand it anymore. Without thinking, you slam the book shut and get to your feet, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Remus’s voice cuts off mid-sentence, and you can feel their eyes on you as you stride towards the stairs, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Hey-!” Remus calls after you. “Where are you going?”

“Bed,” you mutter, not turning around.

“Wait,” he says, and there’s a sharpness in his tone that makes you stop. You freeze, one hand on the bannister, and suddenly the room feels too small, too suffocating. You can’t do this. You can’t look at him.

“Are you all right?” he asks, and you don’t know if you want to laugh or cry because of course you’re not all right. You haven’t been all right for weeks, but you can’t tell him that. You don’t know how.

You’ve been so careful, so determined to keep it bottled up, to keep your jealousy locked behind a wall of silence and forced smiles.

“I’m fine,” you say through gritted teeth, and you hear Remus shift behind you, the sound of his footsteps approaching.

“No, you’re not,” he says quietly, and your heart clenches because he sounds so calm, so steady, like he’s trying to understand something you’re not ready to admit. “You’ve been... off, lately. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you snap, but your voice wavers, and you hate that he can hear it, that he knows you well enough to catch the lie. “Just leave me alone, Remus.”

He doesn’t. You can feel his presence at your back, warm and unrelenting, and when you don’t move, he steps closer, his voice low and insistent. “Talk to me. Please.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you say, and it comes out sharper than you mean it to, a knife’s edge meant to wound, but Remus doesn’t flinch. He never flinches. He just waits, patient and steady, and it makes you want to scream because he’s not supposed to be the calm one. He’s not supposed to make this so damn hard.

“Why are you so angry all the time?” he asks, and his voice is so soft, so gentle that it makes your chest ache. You swallow, staring at the bannister because you can’t look at him, not now, not when everything feels like it’s about to break apart.

“I’m not angry,” you say, but the words ring hollow even to your own ears.

“Yes, you are,” he insists. “You’ve been distant, snappy, and—look, if I did something, I want to know. I want to make it right.”

“It’s not about you,” you blurt out, but it’s a lie, of course it’s about him, it’s always about him, and you can’t take it back now. “I just—I don’t know. I don’t know, okay? Just drop it.”

“I can’t,” he says, and his voice is firm now, insistent in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but I can tell it’s eating you up. Whatever it is, I want to help.”

You want to tell him it’s fine, that you don’t need his help, that he should just go back to James and Sirius and leave you alone, but the words stick in your throat.

There’s something in his eyes, something raw and worried, and suddenly you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath your feet.

You don’t want to do this, you don’t want to admit it, but you can’t hold it back any longer. It’s tearing you apart from the inside out, this stupid, suffocating jealousy, and you don’t know how much longer you can pretend you’re okay.

“I just...” you start, and your voice breaks. You shake your head, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “It’s nothing, okay? It’s stupid.”

“Tell me,” he urges, and his hand is warm on your shoulder, grounding you, and you can’t hold it in anymore.

“It’s you and the bloody ‘marauders’!” you burst out, and the words are loud and desperate and angry, echoing in the empty common room. Remus’s eyes widen, but you don’t stop. You can’t. “It’s you and James and Sirius, and how you’re always together, and you never need me, you never look at me the way you look at them, and it’s stupid because I know you’re allowed to have friends, but I just—”

You choke on the words, your breath hitching, and you don’t know if you’re angry or relieved or just plain exhausted from holding it in for so long. Remus’s face is unreadable, his eyes wide and startled, and suddenly you can’t stand to be here, to be this vulnerable in front of him.

“Forget it,” you mutter, turning away, but Remus doesn’t let you go. His hand tightens on your shoulder, and when you try to pull away, he steps closer, blocking your path.

“No,” he says, and there’s something fierce in his voice now, a determination you’ve never heard before. “No, I won’t forget it. I didn’t realise... I didn’t know you felt like this.”

“How could you not?” you snap, and your voice cracks on the last word. “I’ve been miserable for weeks, and you didn’t even notice.”

“I did notice,” he says quietly, and you hate the sadness in his eyes, the way he looks at you like you’re breaking his heart. “I just didn’t know why. You—you’re important to me. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you’re not.”

“Well, you did,” you say, and you can’t stop the tears that are spilling over now, hot and angry down your cheeks. “You did.”

Remus’s face crumples, and he steps closer, his hand moving from your shoulder to cup your cheek. It’s too much, too intimate, and you want to pull away, but you can’t. You’re frozen, trapped in the warmth of his gaze, the gentleness of his touch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and the sincerity in his voice is like a knife twisting in your chest. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you don’t matter. You do. You matter so much to me.”

You shake your head, trying to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. He holds you there, his thumb brushing away your tears, and you hate that you want to believe him, that some part of you aches to hear those words and hold onto them.

“Please,” he says, his voice barely a breath. “Don’t push me away. I—I want to understand. I want to make it right.”

You don’t know if he can, if anything can fix the tangled mess of feelings inside you, but when he looks at you like that, so open and raw and real, you find yourself nodding, just once, a hesitant, fragile thing.

And when he pulls you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest, you let yourself break, just for a moment, and cling to him like he’s the only solid thing in a world that’s falling apart.

— part two!!

[smutoperator]

No More Allergies

Lee Chaeyoung (Isa) x Male Reader

Tags: A2M, allergies, alter ego, (lots of) anal, beautiful smile, cock and fingers DP, cum licking, cutie goes slutty, dirty talk, (lots of) doggystyle, female masturbation, gape, girlfriend, hair-pulling, lingerie, lipstick, mirror sex, passionate sex, sexy blowjobs, riding, (lots of) spanking, thighjob, twerking

Word count: 4332

Isa is the perfect girlfriend. You two have been dating since the start of the Teenfresh tour, and you're finally ready to witness a comeback from your girlfriend. You have been in love with her most recent looks, showing that beyond that beautiful smile of hers, she can also be extremely sexy.

However, perfection doesn't come without its drawbacks. Isa is a very sensitive girl and has a countless list of allergies you have to pay attention to every time you buy her stuff. It can be quite a challenge, but you don't mind as long as you get rewarded with that smile, which might be the cutest on the entire planet.

When it comes to sex, Isa is very cautious, especially regarding body fluids. She always makes you wear a condom for all phases of it. That has created the crazy situation where you have come inside her best friend Sullyoon, who allowed it during a threesome with your girlfriend, before you had done so to Isa.

Isa herself was aware this couldn't go on for too long and that her countless allergies weren't going to hamper her sex life. She touched herself, attempting to get used to body fluids dripping all over her skin, determined to continue even if she sneezed a couple times, doing so for multiple days before the comeback to get more acquainted.

The eve of the comeback arrived and Isa wanted to do something special. You were out buying her stuff, while Isa prepared herself in the bathtub for a special night. She looked in the mirror, amazed by her sexy body, as she slowly wore her newly boughy lingerie on and put up a glowing red lipstick, smiling to the mirror in a sexy-cute manner. Isa was determined to start a new era in your relationship and was going to show it as soon as you arrived.

"Hi," Isa said when you got back home. You could sense something new was in the air and immediately noticed her bright red lipstick. You two quickly started trading kisses. "Calm down, baby, you're going to fast," she said, pretending to be upset. "Let's get into bed," she continued.

"Take your clothes off, baby; we're going to have a special night," Isa told you, who followed. You just couldn't say no to that smile. As soon as you lay in bed completely naked, Isa took off her bathrobe, unveling her newly bought lingerie. "The comeback is tomorrow; give me an unforgettable night," she said.

Isa took off the bra and panties that were part of the lingerie but kept the rest of the attire on. Her perky tits, big ass, and especially her wonderful thighs looked better than ever. Isa climbed up on the bed and gave you a sexy stare, touching your cock with her bare hands and smiling like only she can do.

You instinctively reached to get a condom in your wallet, but Isa, to your surprise, stopped you. "No condoms tonight; I want to see the raw power of that cock inside me," she said. You were shocked. Isa always talked about her allergies; why was she suddenly ignoring them?

"Seems like you loved my new lingerie," Isa smiled at you again as she jerked off your already throbbing cock. "Why are you suddenly rejecting cond...?" you ask. "Shut up," Isa replied. "Just let me do it," she continued.

Isa licked your shaft perfectly, trying to avoid sneezing. Unsurprisingly, you tasted much better without a condom wrapping it up. "You better fuck me like you never did before," Isa said, putting your cock in her mouth. "I will," you promised her. 

Isa didn't show any restraints, determined to cover your shaft full of her red lipstick as much as possible, even if sometimes she had to hold her nose not to sneeze. She had to face her fears to become the slutty girlfriend she had long desired to be, and this was the right night to do so.

One thing you never doubted about Isa was her ability to suck cock. You still remembered the first time she did and made you fill that condom after just a couple minutes. Her eyes always seemed to get even brighter every time she had your cock in her mouth.

"I like that," Isa said. "Me too," you replied. Her blowjob was on point. Not super sloppy, not super dry. Seeing her turn your shaft red with so many lipstick marks was sending you over the moon, and you decided to test her further, pushing your cock up her beautiful face. Isa resisted as hard as she could, and if it wasn't for an involuntary sneezing, she would have gone even further without gagging.

"Oh fuck yeah," Isa quickly recovered and resumed her sexy blowjob sessions, going after your balls next. She knew she had to get down and dirty to test herself and overtake her allergies. Very focused, she filled her mouth with your ballsack but never took her hands off your shaft, making you groan as she masturbated it fast and hard.

When Isa finally sneezed, she felt she had accomplished her mission. Now her mouth was fully accustomed to your bare cock. She could now suck it as hard as she wanted, play with it, licking its tip, all that while never ceasing to smile. 

You attempted to fuck Isa's beautiful face again, and she took all of it. Your once cute girlfriend had morphed into a sexy cockslut, determined to take every inch of your cock down her throat. "I love it," Isa says as soon as you stop.

Isa quickly reversed the roles, bobbing her head balls deep into your cock. The look in her eyes said it all. The stayc girl was going down your shaft with ease, showing off there was no skill she wouldn't be able to master.

You placed your thumb in Isa's mouth, further ruining her lipstick. She closed her eyes and gave you her signature smile once you took it out. You popped your cock in and out of her mouth, thinking you could tame her. But Isa was always a step ahead. She was going to be the star of the show and perform the best when the lights shine the brightest, just like every time she goes on stage.

Isa quickly took full control of your cock, and you just obliged to her commands. She stuffed her mouth full of your balls, sucked your pole, and kissed your tip. You were at her full mercy now. But Isa was showing no mercy. She had something to prove. And she was just starting.

"Alright, now I'm gonna ride you like your girlfriend never did before," Isa said. You were confused. Why was she making a comparison to herself? But she would quickly clarify. "Chaeyoung, your girlfriend, she's a very cute girl; her smile is perfect. But I don't think you'll miss her anymore after you spend a night with Isa," she continued.

One thing Isa wasn't going to be allergic to was sitting on your cock, as she climbed on top of it with ease. Her insanely tight pussy was a blessing for you to witness without any condom around your cock. "That's really big," she said, smiling while pressing her hands on your chest. "You like it?" you asked, knowing it was the first time you would be fucking her without a condom. "Oh, I fucking love it," Isa said.

Isa quickly spread her legs and started bouncing up and down that shaft. She caressed your face, looking at you with sexy eyes. "Can your girlfriend do that, or is she allergic to it?" she asked. Which nearly backfired, as she let out a sneeze shortly after. But Isa was determined to always be moving on, quickly increasing her pace and acting like nothing had happened.

"Look at you, already so weak for my sexy body. And I haven't even used my best weapons yet," Isa said. "Oh my God, it's so good; I love this dick so much," she continued. I know talking about an idol's duality is sort of a stereotype, but Isa truly possesses it. The way she smiles while riding your massive cock is just amazing. Truly makes you melt.

At this point, you had just become a passenger to Isa's endless lust. The way she rides you, the way her walls clench on your cock, was driving you insane. You start giving her big ass a couple spankings as she bounces even harder in response. Her moans are so soft yet so sexy that you pinch her erected nipples and take her hair out of her face just to see it on full display as she rides your pole, feeling lucky to have such a goddess as your girlfriend.

More slapping ensues, and Isa responds quickly. "I see you're very interested in my ass; I didn't want to spoil the surprise I have for you, but you're making it hard," she says. Isa further spreads her legs and shows her getting impaled to your cock to the fullest. "I want this big dick so bad," she says, her big ass clapping hard against your hips. And she keeps doing all that with that perfect eye smile she's so well-known for. If a dream girlfriend truly exists, it must be Isa.

"Yes, tease my clit," Isa demands as you place your hands on it to finger it while she's still bouncing on your pole. "That's better," she says as your fingers massage it. You take advantage of her slowing her ride just a bit to push your cock deep up her pussy. "Ahhhhhhhh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh," she moans, but quickly regains control with another hard bounce. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah," Isa moans as she relentlessly attacks your cock. Now you can just watch as the once cute cat roars and demonstrates all her sexual power, putting your hands in her chest and using your body like a trampoline to bounce up and down your cock. "I love this body," Isa says as she runs her hands all over it. "But I know you love this pussy taking this cock hard and deep even more," she continues.

"I'm going to show you something," Isa says as soon as she finishes her ride, carressing your throbbing shaft as she teases you. "Show me, show me, show me," you repeatedly tell her. "I want to take it all," Isa continues. "It's all yours," you say.

"I want to try every inch of you, deep in my tight little ass. Let me do it; you either get everything or nothing," Isa says, pointing your shaft towards her anal entrance. You have always lusted towards Isa's big ass, but on the rare occasions she had let you in, she didn't take your cock beyond the tip and only for little teases. But now she wanted everything. Guess she was right; Chaeyoung and Isa are indeed very different personalities.

"Ahhhh, ahhhhhh, ahhhhh," Isa softly moaned as she spread her cheeks and slowly stuffed your cock in her asshole. "All or nothing," you say, poking her. "I'll take all of it, oh fuck, hmmmmm," she continues. Isa's lower body is so meaty your cock quickly disappears inside her butthole. "Oh, you can take it," you say. "Yes, I can, ACHOOO," she sneezes as soon as your cock hits the depths of her anus.

But Isa isn't gonna let a hiccup take her down. Her ass slowly bounces on your cock, taking it slow at first. But Isa is quick to adjust. "I knew you were begging for it, but Chaeyoung would only let you take your tip in. But I couldn't resist; I needed to try," she said.

"Oh fuck," Isa moans. Her ass is so tight she needs to keep spreading her cheeks further to let you in at full strength. She sneezes a bit but just ignores them now, bouncing harder at each time she goes down on it, like a good stayc girl. "Oh yes, fill it all the way deep, hmmmmm, you're so big in my ass," she says.

Isa starts smiling as she is now fully adjusted to your cock deep in her ass, twerking a bit as she rides it. "Don't stop," you tell her. "Who said I'm stopping?" she punches back, clapping her cheeks hard against your crotch. "I love how you go so deep in my ass, ohhhhh yeah," she says. "Spread it for me; let me ride you fast and hard," she continues.

"Spank my ass, please," Isa quickly finds a new kink. Her big pale butt turning red is a massive turn on to her; it only makes her move faster and enjoy the fucking much better. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she softly moans as you get deeper and deeper inside her and spank her more and more.

Isa keeps riding you anally as you stretch your hands to touch her tits and grab her little waist. Her moans are so beautiful, so cute, so passionate, you love it. "Keep spanking me," she demands. "You like it?" you ask her. "A lot," she says, riding you to the rhythm of your hands and slapping her beautiful big ass.

Isa bends her body down towards you and lets you thrust up her butthole. Any fears about her allergies are now gone. She just loves every second of you two having passionate, bed-breaking sex like never before. When Isa gets back up to ride you again, she takes your cock in full force, going all the way deep into your balls every time her fat ass bounces down it.

"Oh, that feels great," you say as Isa spreads her legs and her ass floats in the air while riding you. She switches sides, performing a reverse cowgirl that allows you to watch her big ass in full motion, perfectly moving up and down your cock. But win some, lose some, as you are unable to see her beautiful smile while she does it.

"Just like that, fuck my ass, ahhhhh," Isa moans as you start meeting her bounces with thrusts upwards, eventually leading to her to close her legs and unlocking the bliss of an anal orgasm, taking advantage to pound her from down low while she's creaming herself. "I love this big dick stretching me out, ahhhh," she says. "You are making me turn into such a good fucking slut," she continues, enjoying the pounding while playing with her pussycat. "Ohhhh yessssss," she moans.

You give Isa's ass another spanking as she gets herself on all fours. Her gaping asshole winks as if it wants more of your cock. And it doesn't take long for it to get it. With her face down and ass up, you feast on Isa's backside. Her cheeks get kissed and spanked, her anus gets tongued, leading to a couple sneezes as she's not used to it, but they are followed by her moans getting even sexier.

Isa meets your cock back in her asshole, pushing up and down it, taking control of the ride even with her on her knees. "Let me take it," she demands. "It's all yours," you tell her. You love the way her cheeks hit your crotch and make a perfect jiggle. "Grab my hair," she asks as you take control and start thrusting deeper in her butt, her moans getting louder, your pace getting faster. "Oh, it's so good. I love the way you fuck my ass," she says.

You grab Isa by her waist, pumping her ass deep and fast; she smiles, and you love it. You then tease your cock in and out of it before giving it another cheek-clapping pounding that she enjoys a lot. "Such a sexy angel," you say to her.

"Wow," Isa gets shocked when you get on top of her, giving her big ass the hard pounding it deserves. "You want to get fucked deep and hard in the ass? So this is what you're getting," you tell her. "Can you be a good girl for me?" you ask. "No, I can't; that's why you're fucking my ass now," Isa answers.

You admire the gape you gave to Isa's once little butthole, teasing your cock over it. "Give it all to me," she begs as you keep stuffing your hard cock in her asshole, her fat ass up while her smiling face rests on the bedsheets.

"Oh my God, I can't believe I'm doing this," Isa says as you keep fucking her ass in doggy. "Your asshole is gaped so wide now," you tell her. Isa starts fingering her pussy as you grab her by the waist and pound her harder than ever; she can sense her nails getting pressed between your balls and her clit every time you hit her deep in the ass.

"That's so good; I want more," Isa moans as you keep fucking her hard, spanking her pale butt nonstop as it gets redder and redder. She starts laughing despite getting her ass destroyed, and you respond with more butt spanking to satisfy her. "I see you can still shake it," you tell her when she starts a little twerking and looks at you with her goddess-esque face, getting more spanks in her ass as a reward for her slutiness.

You whisper words in Isa's ears as you keep fucking her in the ass. But she's so cute you can't commit to calling her any dirty words, just telling how much you love her and how sexy she is. Isa, meanwhile, has no such restraints. "You know what I like? I like big cock in my ass. Fuck, I love it," she says.

You pull Isa's hair as you attack her ass harder than ever. But Isa takes your pounding like a champion, meeting your thrusts and bouncing her ass against your hips once more as you two fuck each other very hard but very passionately. "My big boy, my hot boyfriend, and his perfect cock, you're making me crazy," Isa says.

You fuck Isa on all fours for a good 20 minutes before she finally makes a call. "I want to taste your cock," she says. You pull out of her already very gaped butthole very tired, looking at her beautiful face as she jerks your cock off and savors her strawberry-flavored asshole to the fullest, ruining her lipstick even further as she leaves her marks all over your cock.

Isa fills your cock full of red lipstick from the tip to your balls as she toys with it all over her sexy face, even letting you rub it sideways on her lips while her tongue licks your shaft. You fuck her face a few more times, but she takes it with ease, even when you shove your balls in her mouth. Her chin is now completely red as her lipstick gets more and more erased from her lips the more she tastes your cock.

"Want more?" Isa asks when you spank her ass after fucking her face. Yes, you want more. You are addicted to this cute cat's big ass. Isa lies her back in the mattress as you push her close to the edge of the bed, putting your cock back in her ass and fucking her passionately in missionary, using your hands to finger her pussy. Her moans are cuter than ever. "It's beautiful," she says, looking as your cock gets deeper inside her ass. 

Isa licks her thumb and keeps masturbating herself as she soon manages to cum, dropping her body all the way down the bedsheets. You stay focused on fucking her ass, lifting her right leg, and grabbing her wonderful thigh. "Slow and deep, slow and deep," Isa commands as you two have a torrid intimate moment. Neither of you thought something so dirty like anal sex could be so artful and beautiful, yet there were both of you feeling yourselves to the fullest while doing it.

You massage Isa's little tits, following it with perfect, passionate kisses in her beautiful mouth. The more you fuck her, the more you think she's the perfect girlfriend. The more you feel lucky that she's all yours. The way she kisses you is so romantic and sends shivers down your spine.

But Isa can be a hot slut too, lifting both her legs and spreading them for your cock to take it deeper in her ass, which tightens a lot as soon as you give her clit a little extra massage. The way she moans is an art by itself. Isa creams herself all over your cock as she now sticks her fingers in her pussy to get "double-penetrated.".

"Yeah, yeah, oh yeah, feels so good having something in my ass and my pussy at the same time," Isa says as she cums all over her fingers, using them to fuck her pussy while you keep pounding her ass until she creams all over them, her thicc thighs fully lubed with her juices now as you two kiss each other more romantically than ever, but with you never leave your cock out of her butt.

"I taste so sweet," Isa says, leaving her fingers into her mouth. You kiss her cheeks, and you two get fully on top of the bed as you take her ass in a spooping position now, getting all clingy as you kiss her multiple times and grab her tits from behind. "Don't stop fucking my ass," she commands. You oblige, giving Isa the most passionate anal fucking she can take.

"I love it, I love it, I love it," Isa says as she kisses you multiple times. You now pay lots of attention to her neck, caressing, kissing, and licking it nonstop. "AH, AH, AH, IT'S SO DEEP," she says. You kiss her back while your balls keep clapping against her cheeks. Isa is truly in heaven now. The chemistry between you is off the charts. You two want to stay in there forever, kissing and fucking for the rest of your lives.

"You can take me how you want it. My ass, it's all yours," Isa says as you increase her pace, hitting her very sensible hole hard. "Yes, baby, keep going, ohhhhhh, ohhhhh, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she can't stop moaning and especially can't stop smiling the more you fuck her ass.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH," Isa lets out a long and loud moan as you lose control and take her ass with full force, using all your energy until her legs start shaking. As you make her cum, Isa kisses you romantically but sneezes right after, wondering if she can defeat her allergies. She wanted you to finish inside but was scared such a great night of sex would end up badly for her due to her sensibility to allergies.

At the same time, Isa didn't want an anticlimatic ending. She knew she had a secret weapon that she hadn't used much today. Her beautiful smile and perfect ass were all over tonight's amazing night. But one of her sexiest body parts was still missing, and she knew she had to unleash it now.

You keep kissing Isa and treating her like a princess, but she's ready to deliver a great finish for you. She gets on her feet in front of the mirror, offering you a great view of her beautiful backside as you are still in the bed, then comes up with a command.

"My thighs are already wet with so many juices from my orgasms. I want you to take advantage of it and fuck them until you cum," she says.

You didn't know such an amazing night could get even better, but you were wrong. Her words were like music to your ears. You placed your cock between Isa's sexy thighs as she looked in the mirror to see your throbbing erection emerging out of it. Her thighs were so thick your tip barely managed to emerge, as your cock were getting crushed between that pair of meaty muscles.

Isa wasn't going to let you have it easy, crushing your cock between her thighs as hard as she could. You tried to overcome the resistance her thighs provided, thrusting your cock hard as if you were fucking her from behind. The friction between your shaft, especially the tip, and Isa's clit only made it more intense. And she knew how to be a tease, moaning softly and closing her legs every time you got an opening to stick your cock in.

But the intense rubbing between her skin and your cock's throbbing surface was too hard for you to overcome. Not even 3 minutes after, you coated her thighs and the mirror with your white seed, leading Isa to give you the brightest eye smile of the night. She picked up your semen from her thighs and tasted it for the first time. But this time, she didn't sneeze. No more allergies whatsoever for this cute cat. Her metamorphic transformation was complete. The innocent Lee Chaeyoung was a thing of the past. Now she was the fully grown and sexy Lee Isa.

Isa woke up the next day, already in a hurry in preparations for the release of another Stayc comeback. You two weren't going to have much time to talk, but before she left, she decided to make an announcement.

"After the showcase, I'll have a surprise for you," she said.

"Can't wait already," you told her. "What are you gonna bring to me tonight? Will it be even better than last night?" you asked.

"Not what, who; I know you have been into my foxy groupmate for a while," Isa said.

"Seeun?" you asked.

"Yes. Lucky guy you are, having two stayc girls going down on you," Isa said, winking at you as she left your apartment.

This waiting is going to kill you, isn't it?

[nerdy-novelist017]

https://www.tumblr.com/nerdy-novelist017/754460919348740096/benny-cross-is-the-definition-of-scary-boyfriend

Ok yes but also I wanted him to protect Kathy so bad and it just. Never happened 💔💔

We can fix it with fanfiction ;) Enjoy another one shot to pair with my Benny x Bunny series! Again this isn't the next part, just a little idea I had!

Word Count-2.2k+

Summary- Head wounds look a lot worse than they actually are, at least that's what you were trying to tell Benny, but he was so worried, you doubt he's hearing you.

Warnings- Blood, Violence

Broken Glass (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

The bar was crowded. You’d never seen so many Vandals gathered in one place in a long time. With an abundance of fresh faces wearing the colors, it was almost like a completely new club. 

Your knee bounced as anxiety manifested itself into your body. You weren’t so nervous of the familiar faces that sat around your table. Johnny, Brucie, Gail, Kathy, Wahoo, Corky — those people no longer made you nervous. They were family now. It was all the onslaught of new Vandals that cursed, shouted and drank across the room. 

A warm hand encased your knee, pressing down, firmly locking your foot to the ground. You smiled as Benny leaned into you, his lips softly touching your neck in a gentle kiss. His way of calming your nerves. And it worked every time. 

“Alright, I’m gonna break the bad news to ‘em,” Johnny announced as he stood from his chair. The bad news was that some new members of the Vandals had been running up the tab at the bar and not paying for it. An entire week had gone by without them paying for any of their drinks — and they drank a lot.

Brucie stood next to him, cranking his neck to the side with a pop. “This oughta go over well.”

“It doesn’t have to be a fight,” Johnny muttered with a sigh. Despite running one of the most revered motorcycle clubs in the midwest, Johnny was surprisingly non confrontational at times. He knew what needed to be done, he just didn’t like having to do it. “Not everything has to be a fight. It’s just going to be a conversation.”

“Good luck!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs-up. 

“Thanks, kid,” Johnny answered with his usual reserved patience for you and the two left, weaving their way through the crowded room. Benny started to stand too, but you grabbed onto his arm, tugging firmly at his jacket sleeve.

“It’s not gonna be a fight, Benny. Please don’t make it a fight.” You pleaded quietly, giving him your best doe-eyed look that you knew could get you almost anything you wanted. 

“I ain’t gonna make it a fight,” Benny argued but reluctantly sat back down next to you. “I can be civil.”

History begged to differ, you wanted to say but instead lifted your cold bottle of pop to your lips in an excuse not to answer. You laced your fingers with his as you brought his arm back around your shoulder, anchoring him to you.

Minutes ticked by and you fell back into a conversation with Kathy and Gail while Benny’s attention remained focused on Johnny and the conversation across the crowded bar. Voices rose in shouting and suddenly Johnny was shoved back by one of the new Vandals members. Then fists started flying. 

“Shit,” Benny cursed and, quick as light, slid out from your booth and rushed across the bar to join the fight. You called after him hopelessly, your pleas falling on deaf ears. 

“You think these guys will ever think with their brains and not their dicks all the time?” Kathy asked sarcastically as she casually sipped at her beer.

The fight grew larger as more members of the club joined in, and you lost sight of Benny in the tumble. You bit your lip, eyes surveying the crowd anxiously. You hated to see him fight, having cried the first time you witnessed it. It was unfair that he put himself into danger like that, without a care in the world if he got seriously hurt. But that was a part of loving Benny; He was always ready to fight with the drop of a hat. 

“Oh no,” you gasped softly as you saw a man twice his size suddenly appear through the crowd, slamming Benny to the ground.

Standing quickly, you barely heard the warnings of Kathy and Gail for you to stay out of it over the pounding of your heart. You pushed your way through the crowd, desperate to get to Benny, to help him. Bodies knocked into you, sending your hip clashing hard against the pool table, but you continued on, stumbling as you went. 

Finally you caught sight of him again, this time on top of the other Vandal member, beating down on him mercilessly.

“Benny!” You called out for him, but your voice was lost in the ocean of noise. Your fingertips just barely grazed his shoulder before you were knocked back. 

Suddenly something connected with the side of your head, a sickening crashing sound, and you were knocked off your feet. White hot pain shot through your elbow as it was the first to hit the floor below you. You landed hard on your side, the wind knocked from your lungs prevented you from crying out. The side of your head erupted in hot pain from the impact and it took you a couple of seconds to even register that you were on the cold ground now.  

Your ears immediately rang as if you were standing right below a church bell during Sunday service, drowning out all other noise. But the rest of the bar seemed to freeze in shock when they saw you go down, all stunned to see their youngest member’s girl caught on the losing side of a fight. 

You blinked hard, vision filling with stars, but you were able to make out the broken glass littering the floor around you. It took you longer than necessary to understand that you had been hit on the side of your head with a beer bottle. Attempting to look up to see the person who hit you, a cry left your throat at the pain of moving your head

Then that’s when all hell broke loose for the second time in a ten minute span. Johnny appeared in your line of vision, throwing a nasty right hook against the blurry figure of the man who hit you. He went down and a crowd gathered around him, legs kicking and fists flying. 

You blinked hard again, feeling something warm running down into your right eye as Benny’s face suddenly materialized before you.

“B—Benny?” Your voice sounded so small and you hated the way you couldn’t tell if he was real or just an illusion of the person you wanted most when you were scared. 

“Oh my god.” His voice sounded strained and you wanted to ask him if he was okay, if he was hurt, but your body felt oddly disconnected from your mind.

He moved closer to you, the glass shards crunching beneath his boots, and he slid one hand behind your back and the other under your knees. Then suddenly you were being lifted in the air, carried away from the chaos of the bar. Benny used his boot to kick open the back door and a rush of cool breeze greeted you first as he relocated you to Kathy’s pickup truck in the back parking lot. Pausing at the rear of the truck, he used the hand under your knees to lower the tailgate. He placed you into a sitting position on the bed of the truck, stepping between your legs, his face is right back in front of yours again. 

The afternoon sun hanging low in the west gave you enough light to inspect his face for any injuries. There’s a split forming on his bottom lip. You reached forward and touched the injury with a fingertip, trying to gauge the severity. He would need to put ice on it before the swelling started. Although you can’t find any other noticeable signs of injury, his face was so contorted in torment, in. . . something else you had never seen before. Not quite anger, you’ve seen that plenty of times (never directed at you).

You tried to catch his eye, but he was so focused on the spot above your brow where your hairline met your forehead. He retrieved a bandana from his jeans and moved forward. Instinctively, you leaned away, your own hand reaching up to touch the spot that drummed with pain. Warm, sticky substance covered that place and you pulled your hand back to discover deep crimson dripping from your fingers. 

“You’re bleedin’ real bad,” Benny said and only then did you realize that was your blood on your fingers. He tried again and this time you didn’t pull away as he gently pressed the bandana to your flesh. You gasped at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut from the sting.

“I know, baby.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “But you’re bleedin’ real bad.”

You knew that, you wanted to say. You could see it on your fingers, that awful deep red glistening in the sunlight. Your fingers blurred slightly and you blinked a few times to try to clear your vision. But it wasn’t your vision, you realized, it was your hands shaking. Suddenly aware of the sensation, you noticed your whole body was trembling. 

Another voice sounded beside you.

“Oh my god. Is she okay?” It was Kathy, you knew without even looking up.

“I need some water.” Benny said. “Please.”

That's when you realized it was fear in his voice. You’d never heard Benny sound so desperate, so scared. You wanted to grab his hand and tell him that you were okay, that you just needed a moment for the ringing in your ears to stop and then you’d be alright. Really, it was him that you were more worried about than anything else. You looked back up at his face, eyes falling on his split lip once more. 

“I–I’m okay, Benny,” you whispered, reaching for the bandana.

His free hand locked around your wrist, pulling it away from your head, stopping you from removing the bandana. “Don’t touch it, honey.”

The pain was subsiding, you wanted to say, even if it wasn’t really. You just wanted to calm him down. He let your wrist slide through his grasp and you reached out to gently touch his lip. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he repeated incredulously, brows knitted together. “Bunny, you’re bleeding like you just took on an army and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

“Head injuries bleed a lot more . . . They’re heavy bleeders because of the blood flow to your brain.” You attempted to ease his worry with your fun fact. 

He looked unconvinced, pulling back the bandana to peek. “Yeah, where’d you hear that? One of your books?”

“Yeah,” you smiled sheepishly at him and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight. You were so. . . small. So fragile looking sitting here with his bandana pressing against your pretty little head, legs hanging off the tailgate. Benny had to remind himself to take a breath, to focus on controlling his shaking hands. Had to tell himself to be strong for you. You needed him now. He'd be there for you.

Kathy returned with a bottle of water and Benny moved to the side a little, still firmly pressing his hand against your head. “For her hands,” he said.

She uncapped the bottle and gently pulled your hands out over the edge as she poured a stream of the cool water to rinse the crimson from your skin. You glanced down and made a sound. “Aww, no. My shirt. . .”

Benny followed your gaze to the once baby pink shirt now stained with booze and fresh anger coursed through his veins, setting his head swirling with images of strangling the man who touched his girl. You were one of the few good thing - pure thing - left in his world and the fact that someone dared to touch you, to hurt you, set Benny's jaw so tightly that he thought his teeth might crack.  

With the creak from the backdoor opening, Johnny and Brucie came out, rounding the truck. 

“How’s she?” Johnny asked and Benny glanced at his friend. Whatever expression Benny must have shot him caused Johnny to grimace. He moved closer to the two, putting a comforting hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Lemme see.”

Reluctantly, Benny lowered the bandana and Johnny hummed.

“Alright, ain’t that bad,” Johnny assured calmly and nodded at you as he spoke. “Ain’t that bad. The head bleeds a lot, always looks worse than it is.”

“See? I told you.” You quipped, fingers finding the beltloops of his jeans and pulling him lightly. Benny sighed through his nose. 

“She’s gonna need stitches,” Brucie spoke from behind. 

“Can you take her to the hospital?” Benny asked Kathy who nodded instantly as she stepped forward and replaced his hands as he moved back.

“Woah woah, what do you think you’re doin’ in the meantime?” Johnny questioned, already knowing what Benny planned to do.

“I’m gonna go kill him,” Benny declared as if it were obvious.

“No, Benny–” you started but Benny had already pulled away from you, making his way back to the door. He already planted the seed in his mind. He wouldn’t let anyone do anything to you and still have the ability to walk above the ground. This guy needed to be six feet under already. It was Johnny’s hand who grabbed his upper arm, Johnny who stopped him in his tracks.

“No, Benny,” he said quietly, leaning into Benny’s space. “You ain’t goin’ back in there.”

“He–” Benny started, unable to get the image of you laying on the floor of the bar out of his head. He wanted to kill him. He wanted him to hurt. He didn’t care if he’d be arrested for it. He’d been arrested for a lot less before. 

“No,” Johnny’s voice cut him off. “You go take care of Bunny now. We’ll take care of this piece of shit. Hey, you hear me? We’ll take care of it.”

Benny held Johnny’s intense gaze as he considered his next move. He wanted to be the one to take care of it, but the severity in Johnny’s voice, the rigid way his shoulders fell up and down with his breath, the carefully selected words– Benny knew that this man who hurt you would never be a problem again. Johnny wouldn’t let him be because you were an integral part of the Vandals. And they protected their own. 

“Okay,” Benny relented, taking a step back, eyes flickering to your small form still sitting on the tailgate. When he looked back at Johnny, the glint of his brass knuckles caught his eye as he pulled them from his pocket, sliding it snuggly over his fingers.

“Go take Bunny to the hospital. We’ll meet you there when we’re finished.”

"Okay," Benny repeated and he believed him.

-Tag List-

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[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Part 12 CW: blood, past trauma and experimentation

Jason could almost go to sleep. He wouldn’t, not when he was the only Bat in the apartment, but it would be so easy to. Danny made a really good weighted blanket.

It seemed once the kid got over touching someone, he basically became a koala. Cass and Danny had spent the morning wrapped around each other on the couch. Cass was playing one of her weird clicking games and Danny, blue bear in his lap, was scrolling through articles on the tablet that Tim had brought him the other day.

Now, though, Cass was out on a snack run and Danny had slowly slumped over until he was laying across Jason. It wasn’t minded. Jason could admit he still had some trouble with touch himself, but it was easy to be there for Danny like this.

The problem was, Jason needed to get back to Crime Alley for at least a few nights. He was already past when Red Hood should have made an appearance. It he didn’t go back soon, rumors were going to start that he was dead. Again.

Jason waited for Danny to start searching for a new article to read to ask, “Are you alright with meeting someone soon?”

He didn’t expect Danny to tense like he did.

“Robin?”

“No, Dandelion,” Jason said, stroking Danny’s white hair. “N talked with Robin and he knows not to stop by like that without warning. We’ll have him over when you’re comfortable but not before.”

“Okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to…”

“None of that. He freaked you out,” Jason said. “I know he didn’t mean to, and from our guess it’s not his fault how he feels like to you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It’s okay to set boundaries.”

“He… doesn’t feel weird to you?”

Jason sighed. “No. I guess I don’t sense it. I didn’t know you had died until you told me.”

“Oh.” Danny’s voice was small and quiet.

“But I knew that I had died— the others know it’s too,” Jason was quick to add. “It’s alright that you died. No one will think differently of you.”

“They might. It’s… you’re different than me, I guess.”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know what happened to you, but I actually hope so. The way I came back wasn’t pleasant.” Jason had to take a breath before he continued. “I was murdered by a rogue in town called the Joker. I woke up… we’re still not sure when exactly, but somewhere about half a year later. I didn’t have any of my memories, but I still had most of my injuries.

“I was picked up by some people you might hear us refer to— the League of Assassins. They put me back together about a year after my death by tossing me in something called the Lazarus Pits. Those things come with a price though, one that I’m still paying. Coming back was… hard, in a lot of ways.”

“Oh,” Danny said. He clung a little to Jason’s shirt, like he wanted to make sure Jason was still there. It was a feeling Jason understood all too well. “I, um, don’t think I’ve ever stayed really dead for more than a minute or two. At least not like… not like you were.”

Jason rested his hand on Danny’s back, feeling him breath. Feeling him… feeling him not breathe.

“…Danny?”

Danny clung tighter to Jason’s shirt. “Go ahead, ask.”

“Are you… somewhat dead right now?”

“Yes.”

Just one word. A simple answer.

“Okay. That’s— okay. I’m glad there’s a reason that you’re not breathing,” Jason said and pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head as he tried to calm his own pounding heart.

“I think B.B. knows. I usually… it’s habit to breath but sometimes I forget and—”

“She’s good at noticing things.” Jason would have to talk with her. “But that goes to what I said, right? None of the others will thinking of you differently.”

“Even if…”

“Even if anything.”

Danny sat up and Jason resisted the urge to reach for him. It took him a moment longer to release Jason’s shirt. Jason sat up slowly and waited for Danny to get the words out he was obviously working on.

“Can I show you?”

“Course.” Jason braced himself for anything.

“It might be bright, close your eyes.”

The flash still shown through Jason’s eyelids.

“Oh.” Danny’s voice wavered horribly. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Danny?” Jason was reaching forward even as he opened his eyes.

It was good he did.

He had to catch Danny as he wavered dangerously. Danny’s who hair was black. Who’s eyes were blue. Who looked all the more like Bruce’s son. Who was bleeding red.

-

“Jesus and Mother Mary,” Dick cursed, resting his forehead against his wrist’s.

Cass came over and peeled the bloody gloves off for him. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Dick wheezed.

“Badly.”

Jason barked out a laugh at that. It was unstable in a way that reminded the room of worse days.

The door banged open and they all jolted, everyone but Cass, who was better than that, and Danny who was still out cold.

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Tim rambled. “Is he stable?”

“Yes,” Cass answered. Her voice was calm, but but Duke could see the way that she fidgeted. For anyone else it wouldn’t be called fidgeting, but the way that she untied and retied and untied the trash bag in his visions told Dick otherwise.

Cass was as worried as the rest of them.

“Signal?” Tim asked. He came into the room, tablet already pulled up to record everything.

“Hard for me to say,” Duke said with a little shrug. He wished he could say, but he was still trying to understand what he was seeing. “The guy is… he’s like no one I’ve ever seen before. But I think he’s getting stronger.”

“That’s— holy fuck.” Tim paused as he finally got a look at Danny.

“Really looks like the old man like this, doesn’t he?” Jason asked. He was trying to hide how his hands were trembling by keeping his arms crossed. Everyone in the room let him pretend.

Duke sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the one Danny collapsed on like that. It was bad enough being the third one there as he swung over from his patrol. The cuts had still been appearing on Danny’s skin, ripping him apart like he was nothing.

He didn’t look much better all bandaged up.

“I think the cuts were ones he must have sustained before changing forms before he even met us,” Duke reasoned. “They… felt old.”

Dick rubbed at his face. “So the whole time they were there just waiting to bleed?”

Jason laughed again. “Waiting for him to be alive again.”

Slowly, Dick dropped his hands and looked up at Jason. “Jay?”

Okay, so they were at the point of forgetting cape-names now. That was a great sign.

Confusingly, Jason looked to Cass, who actually fidgeted.

“He doesn’t breathe. He does, not always. His heart beats, not always. It is like he…,” she twisted her hand as if trying to grab onto the right word. “Like he relaxes and forgets.”

Well that was weird. Dick nodded to the monitor that he had helped hook up. “He’s breathing right now and the monitor says his heartbeat is hella slow, but steady.”

“This is his alive form, I think. More alive form,” Jason said with a shrug. “His other form is his more dead form. He said he’s never stayed ‘really dead’ like I was. I think ‘really’ was the important word in that. He stressed it like it was… a technically or some shit.”

“Or a loophole,” Tim said. He was watching Danny with his head tilted just slightly to the right.

It was a pose that had Duke straightening up in attention. “What do you see that I can’t?”

Tim glanced at him and then back down at Danny. “The scars don’t match.”

“Ti—Red, please just say it,” Dick pleaded, exhaustion hanging on his words.

“Sorry, I was. I mean, the scars he has now don’t exactly match the scars he had in his— what are we calling it? Dead form?”

Jason flinched.

Dick’s eyes flicked from Jason to Tim. “Let’s go with… ghost. Undead, you know?”

Tim continued on valiantly. “His scars don’t match with what he had in his ghost form. There are a few like around his neck that I think are one-to-one and a lot of them are in the same place from what I can see and might be the same? I’d have to take photos and compare. But… he has more in this living form, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, right, so that’s a thing,” Jason said. He slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was squatting. He hung his head between his knee and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck.

Duke could see Jason passing out with enough probability that he slipped out of the room to grab some sour candy for Jason and an icepack for the back of his neck. Being honest with himself, Duke could use the moment out of the room. It was a lot to deal with.

Man, someone would have to do something about the bloody couch too… Dick sighed and took the time to send a message to Babs about it as well as an update. Knowing her she had a list of all the furniture in all the safe houses and could get a slipcover ordered on same day delivery. At least he hoped so. Everyone was taking this pretty hard and they didn’t need the reminder.

Duke figured the bad reaction was pretty fair though, they had thought that Danny was getting better and now his healing was going to be set back. Dick would be guilty because he hadn’t been here, Jason going through his issues about kids and violence and death, and Cass already counted Danny as family. She was never good when family was hurt. It was even worse that Danny should have been safe, he was under their watch.

Duke set the pack of candy and ice pack down next to Jason’s foot, close enough that he should be able to feel the cold, and backed up to his corner. It was best not to touch right then. He wasn’t afraid of Jason ever hurting him purposefully, but he was also very aware for Jason it might not always be purposeful.

Cass joined him, leaning against his side, and Duke wrapped an arm around her. Tim was tapping away on his tablet, mostly muttering to himself, but Dick had gotten up to peer over his shoulder.

Jason tore open the packet of candies and popped one in his mouth.

They’d be okay.

It would take work, but they were Bats. They were stubborn.

Dukes wrist buzzed. The tracking number for slipcover flashed across his hud. It would be there by 9 pm.

They’d be okay.

-

Everything hurt. Everything ached all the way down through his skin and muscled and bones. His breath caught in his chest, ragged and frayed like his lungs were full of shattered glass.

He tried not to make a noise.

He tried to stay quiet.

They would notice him if he made a noise. He couldn’t take any more attention. He didn’t think he’d survive more attention. God, that thought was almost enough to kill him. Once he would have done anything for his parents attention and now—

There was a hand in his hair. It was gentle.

Oh, he was crying.

“…going to be okay. We have you, Dandelion, and we’re not letting them touch you ever again. The two Reds will make sure it can never happen again. Once you’re better they’ll take a little road trip.”

That was… that wasn’t… a sob broke through Danny’s lips and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try.

He wasn’t there.

He could make noises.

He was safe.

“Danny? Hey, are you awake.”

Danny nodded as much as he could manage.

“Hey there,” Nightwing said, voice so kind that it just made Danny cry harder. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Danny shook his head.

“Okay, that’s okay, thank you for answering me Danny. How’s the pain? Um, squeeze my hand once if it’s okay, twice if it’s really bad.”

Danny squeezed it three times.

“Really, really bad, huh? Okay. Okay… we can give you some pain meds through your IV. We have you on a saline drip because you looked really bad. We didn’t want to give you any meds without your consent though. Are you alright with some pain medication? Once for yes, twice for no.”

One squeeze.

“Okay, let me go—”

Danny clung to Nightwing’s hand a tightly at he could. His breath stuttered around the glass.

“Not leaving, Dandelion. I’m going to text Red Robin, okay? He’s in the living room. Hood and B.B are out… running an errand. They’ll be back soon. I’ll text Red and he’ll bring the pain meds.”

Danny nodded. Nightwing shifted around, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. The breathing calmed, got easier. Danny let out a slow breath.

“Hey Danny,” a new voice said. “The medication will make you feel fuzzy and maybe disoriented. You’ll probably sleep a lot. We don’t want you to wake up panicked. Is there anything we can do to help you know you’re here with us and safe?”

“Bear,” Danny croaked. He wet his lips and tried to continue. “Smells that aren’t… Touch. Warmth.”

“Red will get your teddy bear as soon as the meds are hooked up and we’ll work on the other things. One of us will always be here with you,” Nightwing said.

Danny squeezed his hand again.

“Okay. We won’t leave you alone, Danny, we’ll keep you safe. You’ll be okay.”

Danny trusted that.

It was surprising.

He didn’t think he could trust anymore, but Danny trusted that, trusted them.

The warmth of that thought followed him back into the black.

---

AN: This all Danny's fault, not mine! He decided to reveal his form early and then... welp.....

...Stay delightful, darlings?

[gigiwritess]

BACK TO EARTH

dr. jack abbott x f!resident!reader!vega aka "wildcard"

wc: 2,100 synopsis: the weeks go by—until the pittfest happens. jack wasn't even supposed to be working, but there he was. he didn't expect to have to save vega from herself, too, as her personal dark spiraled out of her control.

contents: 20-year age gap (vega is 26, jack is 46). vega's worsening mental health issues; she's having an anxiety attack, but it's not heavily described. usual pitt dynamics. probably lots of medical inaccuracies that i'm not gonna apologize for. this is totally self-inserted and vega is totally based in lots of aspects of myself. this list is concerns general warnings and specific chapter warnings—i'm gonna keep updating it as i go

gigi's notes: hi people!!!! i'm sorry for not posting the 3rd piece sooner. besides work, classes, organizing and academic conference, my depression keeps getting the best of me and i dissociate and don't do all the shit i need to do and it's an endless cycle. so it took me a bit longer to be able to flesh it out exactly how i wanted this to go and to find the right voice for the things i wanted to write. i really loved this piece and i hope you like it to. i'll try my best to write the next one sooner <3 about the 'jack abbot x reader x frank langdon love triangle', i can tell she's here and she's called TRAITOR (based on the song TRAITOR by elley duhé). i'm nowhere near finished but i'm already at 3k soooo it might take a bit longer to finish cooking it. i should probably make a list of jack abbot's works in progress because i have many lol i'm also gonna write jack abbot x firefighter!reader bc it's my alter-ego, probably a mini-series shorter than BRIGHTER, and i'm also thinking of somethinng like jack abbot x brat!reader in nessa barrett's vibes. as you can tell, jack abbot is rotting my brain :()

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There was something wrong.

The worst of the Pittfest chaos had passed. The ER wasn’t quiet—it never was—, but now the screaming had dulled down to murmurs, the steady beep of machines, the last critical cases being dealt with. Even though it wasn’t over, there was finally a small semblance of quiet starting to spread.

Jack was hands-deep in a tracheotomy when it happened—a kid. Couldn’t have been older than ten. Vega had been working on him since he arrived; Jack caught a glimpse of her across the room as she stopped her compressions and called time of death. He saw the way she stilled for a second, the way something in her eyes cracked. She didn’t lose it, didn’t panic, didn’t break protocol. Just took a deep breath and moved on. But he saw the look in her eyes. He knew that look.

He knew, the moment she stepped out of Trauma Two, her shoulders sagging, her hands shaking as she pulled the latex gloves off with far more force than necessary, there was something wrong.

The beeping from the monitor finally went back to a steady rhythm; his patient was stable. Jack could finally breathe normally again; no one else was calling out his name to go help another patient. He ripped off his gloves, shoved a blood-soaked gown into a bin, and wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. By the time his patient was finally handed off, Vega was gone.

He probably shouldn’t have been paying that much attention to her all this time working together, but he couldn’t help it—he was, by nature, an observant person; he had thrived in workplaces exactly because of that. But Vega was the biggest mystery Jack had ever faced—the most fascinating one.

Every time they worked together or were near each other—which happened way more frequently than it should’ve, considering they worked opposing shifts—, he noticed something about her, sometimes without even meaning to.

It was almost as if she were a giant magnet and he was made of iron (part of him was, at least). He noticed the way her forehead would furrow whenever she was in deep thinking; he noticed the way she would let a quiet groan escape when stretching her back, always a grimace of pain she was quick to disguise when there were people around. He noticed how picky she was with her fingers, always scratching something, filing her nails, finding something to fix in her cuticles. He noticed how expressive she was; how her face always showed what she was feeling, even when she was trying to pretend otherwise.

He noticed a lot of things about her. Especially how well she held herself together, but her eyes gave her away—he always saw right through them.

It took him longer than it should’ve to find her. She wasn’t in the break room, wasn’t in the stairwell. Not in the far supply closet that staff usually went to scream into empty shelves, not in the ambulance bay.

It was one of the old, near-empty trauma bays, half-lit, curtain drawn. Vega sat on the edge of a gurney, knees close to her chest, elbows on her knees. Her hands were covering her face, her palms pressed against her eyes as if she could absorb back her own tears.

Jack didn’t announce himself. He just stepped inside, quietly closed the door behind him, pulling the curtain shut. For a moment, he just stood there. The room felt too small, the air too heavy.

“Vega?” He called out in a low voice, rough from a long, chaotic day.

No response—she didn’t move. He could hear her small, soft sobs.

He crossed the room in two strides, invading her space, her knees touching his chest. Carefully, gently, Jack took her hands in his and slowly pulled them away from her face, her eyes, wet with tears, sealed shut as he lowered her hands to her sides.

“Look at me,” Jack said, both his hands coming to cup her face, firm and steady, warm palms against the sides of her neck.

She did. Her eyes, usually so full of fire and life, were dark, red-rimmed, almost vacant as they met his. It was as if an angry, destructive storm had passed through them, taking everything in its wake, taking a piece of her with it. A storm that had been hidden deep, brewing for some time—not just the Pittfest.

“Breathe.” Quietly, she did. “In and out.”

Her breathing hitched, the tears subsiding, the tremor in her chest slowly fading away. His thumbs brushed the sharp line of her cheekbones—not soft, not tender. Grounding. Just enough to tether her back to Earth, back to the present, away from her spiraling thoughts, back to him.

“Good girl,” he muttered as her breath came in shaky but obedient, almost even now.

It was meant to come out as a tease, something for her to laugh, to bring her back to reality. But it didn’t sound that way, not as she shivered, not as his thumb grazed the corner of her mouth. Not as her gaze fell to his lips once, twice before flicking back to his eyes. It shouldn’t have made his stomach twist—but it did. They stayed that way for a moment, just breathing, just looking at each other, existing in each other’s space. Simply being with each other, her pulse a steady rhythm against his fingers.

But his eyes betrayed him—his gaze dropped to her lips before he could stop himself. Maybe it was the tiredness. Maybe it was the blood stuck under his nails, or the way his chest still ached from all the patients he’d lost. Or maybe it was the way that here, in this room, right now, with her, none of it mattered.

Jack leaned in—Vega met him halfway. It wasn’t a careful kiss, not sweet. It was like a collision of exhaustion and adrenaline, and months of looking at each other as if they were two souls who knew something about each other, who recognized something in each other. Her hands gripped the collar of his scrubs, his palms sliding to the back of her neck—it was a kiss meant to ground them both. Hard and a little desperate, meant to translate everything that couldn’t be said yet. No promises, no words, no soft confessions. Just here, right now.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads stood almost touching for a moment. Jack’s breath was ragged; his hands still cupped her face.

“Keep looking at me like that, old man,” she said, voice hoarse, “and I might start thinking you like having me around.”

The wicked smirk on her lips, swollen from his kiss, was the first real thing he’d seen on her face all night.

It took a moment for her teasing to hit its mark, for him to realize she was back. “Yeah, yeah,” he laughed. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Jack was the first to pull back, hands falling away slowly, reluctantly. The air between them still crackled, was still charged as they stared at each other for a moment longer, the memory and the weight of the kiss too fresh, too sharp. For a second, neither of them spoke.

Outside, someone faintly asked about more negative O units—the world hadn’t stopped.

He jerked his chin toward the toward.

“Come on, Wildcard,” he said, the usual sharp-edged version of him settling back into place, “you’ve got a shift to finish.”

There was something about the way he uttered ‘Wildcard’. It was not in the usual teasing, mocking way people did. It felt personal—he spoke it like a secret kept between just the two of them.

She slid off the gurney, her hand brushing his as she walked, her pinkie tangling with his for a single moment before she put distance between them. Her expression was the same as it always was—cool, a little cocky, composed. But her pulse was still visible at her throat.

Jack noticed. Of course he did.

The world was calmer now as they sat down on the park benches, Matteo happily handing beers to whomever would accept. Life still went on around them—music thudding faintly against the night air, sirens going off in the distance—but here it felt quieter. Slower.

Vega looked up; the night sky was clear and bright, stars twinkling faintly. Jack sat beside her on the same worn-out bench. He was sitting close, almost too close. His thigh brushed hers, solid and warm; his arm bumped hers when he shifted slightly to accommodate his prosthetic leg, but he didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned closer, the barest tilt of his body, casual enough that no one would notice.

She noticed—every single second. She could’ve inched away, could’ve created a little space. She didn’t.

They hadn’t spoken since leaving that trauma bay, hadn’t worked together—only traded stolen glances throughout the ER, glances full of everything they didn’t recognize yet.

“You held up good today,” Jack said, nudging her leg with his left knee, beer in hand, “better than most.” He angled his body towards her, looking at her profile.

She nudged his leg back, turning her head to look at him, finding his eyes. “Even with a breakdown?”

“Even then,” he said, sipping his beer and staring intently into her.

Vega tried to play it off, act cool—but her throat still tightened all the same as she held his gaze, as she tried not to think about the anxiety black hole she’d just barely clawed her way out of. She tried not to think about how everything had been spiraling each time worse than the previous, each time getting far out of her control, until his warm, steady hands pulled her out. She didn’t want to think about how grounding his touch felt—or how his kiss felt like a lifeline she didn’t know she needed, how his kiss felt like being above the surface after being underwater for so long, how his kiss felt like feeling a spark of something after being numb for so long.

But that was all she could think about as she looked into his eyes, as the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them under the amber streetlights.

She looked away; her heart sounded stupidly loud in her ears, overwhelming. She took a breath, trying to quiet it down.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” she said, breaking the moment, pretending like it didn’t weigh heavily on her chest. “But thank you.”

“I know,” Jack said after a beat, a half-smirk ghosting across his mouth. “Guess I just have a thing for trouble.”

Vega let out a breath of a laugh, genuine, small, and surprised, meant just for him. Something warm started to spread over her chest, something good. When she turned to him again, her eyes were brighter, crinkling just a little at the corners. She shouldn’t say anything—or at least say something else. But she couldn’t help it when his eyes had a spark of something daring, of something dangerous, something familiar.

“Yeah? That why you keep hanging around?”

The air between them went still. Heavy, charged. Like something coiled and tense, just waiting for someone to make a move—any move.

Feeling just a bit emboldened by the spark in his eyes, she reached out and snagged the beer right out of his hand. Jack’s eyebrows shot up, surprised, but he let her do it, watching as she lifted it to her lips and took a long sip. Brave. Almost defiant.

Vega handed the beer back. Eyes still locked on Jack’s hazel ones, his fingers closed around hers, slow, deliberate, and his head tipped toward her, just a bit, like he was going to say something to Robby instead—he didn’t.

Jack’s mouth brushed near her ear, low enough that only she caught it, meant just for her.

“Careful, kid. Keep that up and I’ll think you’re flirting.”

It was her turn to stay silent, her breath caught like a deer caught in a trap, just for a split second before she masked it into a tiny, sly smile. Her cheeks, her whole face, felt like it was on fire. She didn’t need to look at him to feel the wicked grin tugging at his mouth.

Vega leaned back against the bench, purposefully pressing her shoulder against his. She said nothing as she stole his beer again, brushing his fingers—and he let her—, acting as if her heart was beating normally. It wasn’t. Not since his kiss brought her back to earth.

@cosmoscoffeee @mackycat11 @sunfairyy @starkgaryan @amandarobertsboyce @starlight-starbright-8080 @patatesliomlet @saynotononsense @sweetestcowboy @diaryofafeelsaddict 

[iteh3xael]

“Back in the eighties dungeons were becoming a thing in New York. Guys would pay a lot of money to come there and have some dominatrix tell them what to do. I was making leather pencil skirts for a lot of the doms, with holes in the back so that guys could kiss their ass. One day I was fitting a dom named Asia, and I told her: ‘I bet I could make more money than you without wearing stuff like this.’ She bet me I couldn’t. It was all a big goof. But then I started really thinking about it. Asia was making $150 a session, and that was real money. So I did the same thing I always do when I get an idea. I just ran an ad in the back of the Village Voice. Most of these girls were advertising how young they were. So I used the word ‘mature.’ And I figured out how to write ‘Jewish Guys Welcome’ in Yiddish, and I put that at the bottom. It was some of the easiest money I ever made. I never let them touch me. All I had to do was be a bossy black woman. And I could do that easy because my mother had been such a bitch. I’d pretend to be a school teacher, or a nanny. It was the dumbest shit. I just kept inventing crazy scenarios. And the crazier the scenario, the more money I made. One time I heard about a dom on the Upper East Side who charged $3,000 a week to kidnap a guy and lock him in her basement. I didn’t have a basement, but I knew a limo driver named Dean who liked to hustle like me. So every time I got a call from a new client, I’d say: ‘You want to be kidnapped, don’t you?’ And he’d start stuttering like: ‘Duh, duh, duh, duh.’ And I’d say: ‘Listen to me closely. Stand on the corner of 5th and 18th tomorrow at 3 pm. Don’t be late.’ Then I’d call Dean and tell him the plan. It was always easy to spot the guy. He’d be the one checking his watch and looking scared as shit. So we’d roll up in the limo, grab him by the collar, and pull him inside. Then I’d lock the doors and start telling him what to do. Everything went down in the back of the limo. Dean just rolled up the partition and kept his eyes on the road. At the end I’d give him $100, because I was getting $250 for that.”

[bigxrepvtation]

hey, i was wondering if you could do mark slaon x reader where’s she’s the complete opposite of him (quiet and self-conscious) and he is captured by her but she isn’t interested in him due to his reputation (I hope that makes sense haha), thanks!

❛ 𝑶𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Mark Sloan x reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: hii I hope this is good for you :) thx for requesting here <3

It hasn't been really long since when you started working at the Seattle Grace. You were the new pediatric surgeon and luckily all the people seemed to be nice. With some of them you got along very well, you had managed to establish also a good working relationship with everyone and surprisingly even attracting some unexpected people.

Mark Sloan, probably the most popular person in this hospital. You didn't really know him that well but, yet all the rumors where he was the main characters were enough. Not judging was actually difficult in that case even though you weren't that kind of person.

For some reason there was something in you that couldn't make him stop to keep his eyes on you. At first you tried to ignore it, but as it went on it was starting to annoy you.

You did not hesitate to address him qute directly, but the way he acted as you spoke not able to hide your annoyed tone bothered you even more. That stupid smirk and look were getting on your nerves so bad.

Obviously he was just trying to play it cool and look friendly. You had your ideas and thoughts, you were perfectly fine on your own and you definitely didn't need people like him. Everything that came out of his mouth could sound like a sort of flirting, everytime without any success.

But that was during work when you finally saw the person he actually was in the inside. You couldn't deny the way he took care of patients and the way sometimes he cared. Maybe his reputation was the worst but his personality might have saved him. Well this wasn't really changing your mind, it would have been just more like a normal or decent co-workers relationship and something different than the usual sighing or eyes rolling anytime he interacted with you.

At least now the situation became less unbearable, he was almost being... ok. Almost ok. And he was clearly enjoying your change of behaviour with him.

You had just scrubbed out of a surgery and this long day seemed finally to be over. You took off your scrub cap and leaned against the wall, resting your head against it and closing your eyes for a few seconds.

“Ever heard of beds?” you didn't even need to look to know who that was. Mark stood next to you.

“Oh please I don't have enough energy for that” you sighed and opened your eyes to look at him. He chuckled.

“How was your surgery?”

“It was good thankfully. Now I'm just exhausted” you replied.

“I can tell” he looked at you and smiled softly. “And I exactly know what would be perfect-”

“Absolutely not” you immediately cut him out.

“I haven't even said anything yet”

“That's enough, no thanks” you stated.

“Oh come on, I was just thinking how about we escape from here so that we both may relax out minds at Joe's. I had a long day as well, so we could just forget everything with some drinks” he rised his eyebrows, waiting for your reply. You looked at him without saying anything, but considerating it. Saying no didn't seem good. That idea was not so bad, was it?

“I will pay” he added. “So, deal?”

You smiled slightly. “Fine” you then said. “But just one drink. And then I'm going home”

“Sounds good. Even better for my wallet” you chuckled softly before making your way to the locker rooms and leave.