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avengxrz · 3 days ago

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some people are soft only for you ⁃ robert "bob" floyd

pairings: robert "bob" floyd x bartender!reader word count: 12.7k words synopsis: he’s always been the quiet one. the one who stayed in the background, who never asked for more. but what happens when you realize the one person who’s always been there... is the one you’ve been waiting for? warnings: angst, slow burn, mutual pining, emotional repression, hurt/comfort, rainy confessions, a slap (but it’s earned), crying, kissing in the rain, bob floyd being soft, robert floyd rights. flight log: since the bob floyd fic won in the poll (because you all have incredible taste), this is for the quiet love enjoyers, the slow burn believers, and everyone who’s ever yelled at a fictional man for not speaking up sooner. this fic is full of rain, longing, and everything i think bob floyd deserves. thank you for waiting. i hope it hugs your heart a little. disclaimer: my works are not made using ai. every word comes from me, my thoughts, my hands, my time. do not steal, copy, or feed my fics into ai for any reason. fuck ai and what it’s doing to creative spaces. support real writers. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ masterlist

Bob remembered the first time he saw you like it was branded somewhere behind his ribs.

It had been a regular Friday at the Hard Deck, the kind where the sun dipped just right over the water, warm enough to blur the windows and paint the inside gold. He was sitting at his usual table in the corner, a few chairs down from Hangman who was busy retelling a story no one had asked to hear again.

Phoenix had already rolled her eyes twice while Bob had his drink in hand, half-listening, half-wishing he had stayed home when the door opened and Penny stepped through with someone trailing behind her.

You.

She had one hand on your shoulder, ushering you in like someone showing off a prized secret, and that was when everything stopped for him. Bob didn’t know if it was the way you tilted your head when Penny said something under her breath, or the fact that you smiled like you weren’t quite used to smiling in public.

You were trying, and he could see that. How? Well, you looked like someone trying not to look nervous, someone trying to belong. He swore, just for a second, his heart forgot what it was supposed to do.

Meanwhile, everyone else had started noticing, too. Bradley leaned forward against the bar, Jake straightened up in that too-obvious way he did when he wanted to be looked at, and Coyote muttered something under his breath that made Payback laugh.

The squad was buzzing in a way they hadn’t in weeks, and Bob just sat there with his drink, watching you smile at Penny like she was your only anchor in the room.

Penny introduced you like it was nothing, just her niece, newly in town, helping out behind the bar for a while. You were taking a break from your old job as Penny said. Needed a change of scenery.

She said it like it was temporary, like you were just passing through, but Bob felt something else settle in his chest, like he already knew you were going to be here a while. Long enough to change things.

He remembered how you looked at each of them, Bradley first. You laughed at something he said and tilted your head a little, fingers brushing your necklace as if you were already a little charmed. It wasn't your fault.

Rooster could make most people smile, but Bob saw the way your eyes lingered a bit longer than they did with the others. The way your shoulders loosened near him, and the way you leaned in.

Too bad for Bob, he thought. Even then.

But he stayed quiet, like he always did. Just watched, then helped you carry a crate of soda to the backroom when Penny got busy. You smiled at him and said thanks like it actually meant something. And that, God, that was enough to get him through the rest of the week.

Over the next few months, he watched the way you folded into the rhythm of the place. You learned everyone’s drinks, picked up on who tipped and who didn’t, and started finishing Penny’s sentences before she could.

You were quick, you were sharp, but you were never cruel. Bob saw the way you looked when you thought no one was paying attention, those small, tired moments when the bar was loud but you looked somewhere far away. He wanted to ask. He never did.

Then, came the Rooster thing. It wasn’t a thing, not really, at least (and hopefully) not yet, but Bob knew what it looked like to hope. He recognized it in himself first, every time you looked up when Rooster walked in, every time your laugh came a little easier with him.

Rooster was kind to you. He flirted without meaning to. Sometimes he meant to. You flirted back. You wore that same necklace every time he was scheduled to drop in after a flight.

Bob just watched, quiet as ever.

As time went on, he kept finding reasons to linger near the bar after the rest of the squad left. Just to make sure you locked the doors safely, just to offer to walk you to your car. Sometimes, you talked. Not about much, like the weather, and how loud the jukebox was that night.

Once, you asked him if he ever got tired of being the responsible one. He didn’t know how to answer.

He had started to think he would be okay with this, just being around. Being the guy who stayed, who didn’t push, who was always polite and careful and useful. It was enough. Until it started to hurt. Until he realized that every time he saw you with Rooster, something in him flickered in a way he didn’t know how to control.

And still, he said nothing, because it wasn’t his place, and because he wasn’t the kind of man who made grand gestures. He was the kind of man who waited, who hoped quietly, and who stayed.

But lately, he had started wondering; how long could someone wait before they started to break a little?

It was a Friday night when it happened, one of those rare evenings where the entire Dagger Squad managed to show up at the same time, no drills the next morning and nothing but hours ahead to kill.

The Hard Deck was busier than usual, the kind of full that meant Penny had music playing just a little too loud and the laughter at the pool table spilled all the way to the back booths.

Bob had arrived early, the way he usually did, already nursing something mild as the others filtered in. He didn’t expect you to join them.

You normally stayed behind the bar, that was your world. You floated through it like someone who belonged to it, moving with purpose and comfort, like the chaos never touched you. So, when you slid into the booth beside him, smiling as you bumped your knee gently against his, Bob almost dropped his glass.

“Hope this seat’s not taken,” you said, already settling in.

Bob blinked, then smiled, the quiet kind that reached his eyes before it reached his mouth. “Nope, it’s yours.”

Meanwhile, Rooster dropped into the space on Bob’s other side, his laugh already halfway through some joke Phoenix had muttered earlier.

Fanboy was busy chatting up someone near the bar, Payback and Coyote deep in some debate about the rules of darts, and for a moment, Bob sat there with you to his left and Rooster to his right, wondering how he had become the center of gravity in a scene that made his chest tighten just a little.

You turned toward Rooster almost immediately, picking up where you’d left off earlier at the bar when you had been talking about music. “So, you’re telling me you still don’t know who Joni Mitchell is?” you asked, eyebrows lifted.

Rooster raised his hands in mock surrender as he leaned forward slightly, glancing past Bob to meet your eyes. “Look, I’ve heard the name. That counts for something, right?”

You scoffed as you grabbed a fry from the basket in front of you. “Barely, ‘cause that’s like saying you’ve heard of air.”

Bob watched you as you laughed, watched Rooster roll his eyes and reach for his drink, and as the two of you kept trading playful jabs, he stayed quiet, sipping slowly.

He wasn’t left out, not really, but he nodded when you said something funny, smiled when Rooster responded, but no one was talking to him directly. He didn’t mind, not really.

Then you turned toward him, nudging his arm lightly with your elbow. “Bob, please tell me you have decent taste in music. Help me out here.”

He set down his glass as he met your gaze. “I, uh, I like Joni Mitchell,” he said, voice steady but soft.

You grinned, leaning a little closer. “See? I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Bob blinked again, heart thudding once in his chest like it had just remembered it had a job to do. He smiled as he looked down, trying not to read too far into it, trying not to catalog the way you had said it.

You turned back to Rooster almost immediately, still half-laughing as you grabbed another fry and tossed it onto his plate like a challenge.

As the conversation moved on, the rest of the squad trickled closer, Jake finally giving up on his conquest at the bar and dropping into the seat beside Phoenix.

The table filled with the usual rhythm, jokes and teasing and interrupted stories, but Bob couldn’t shake the way you kept leaning slightly toward Rooster as you talked.

He couldn’t help noticing how Rooster’s shoulder brushed his own whenever he turned to respond to you, how Bob was caught in the middle of something he wasn’t part of.

He laughed when they laughed, nodded when someone addressed him, answered questions when they came his way, but he felt it. That quiet weight of watching something unfold next to him, knowing he was only a bystander. He didn’t resent it, and he didn’t resent you.

He just wished, for one brief, selfish moment, that you would lean his way again.

Across the table, Phoenix caught Bob’s eye as Rooster launched into some story about flying low over the mountains in Nevada. She raised one eyebrow and tilted her head slightly toward you, her meaning loud and clear.

Beside her, Hangman smirked as he sipped from his beer, then shot Bob a look so exaggerated it almost tipped into performance, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, a slow shake of his head that said, Seriously, Floyd?

Bob didn’t react. He kept his gaze fixed on the half-empty fry basket and picked at the edge of his napkin like there was something fascinating about the texture.

He could feel their eyes though, the silent conversation that he knew was happening in looks and subtle nudges. He knew what they were thinking, and he refused, absolutely refused, to let it show on his face.

Because you were still sitting beside him, warm and easy and relaxed, legs crossed in his direction, and he wasn’t about to mess that up by getting caught staring or doing something stupid like hoping.

So, he kept his voice casual when he joined the conversation, offering a quiet “Sounds intense,” after Rooster finished his story, even though he’d barely heard a word of it.

Phoenix didn’t drop it. She leaned forward on her elbows as she looked at him again, this time mouthing a word Bob didn’t want to see but definitely understood.

Talk.

He took a long sip of his drink instead.

Meanwhile, you laughed at something Rooster said, and Bob felt your hand brush his arm briefly as you leaned into the table to grab a napkin. It wasn’t anything. Not really, but his breath still caught for a second before he swallowed it down.

Then Hangman leaned in, voice low but pointed. “So, Floyd,” he said with an easy smile that always meant trouble, “any updates in your love life? Anyone we should know about?”

Phoenix didn’t even try to be subtle. She turned her head and looked directly at you, then back to Bob.

Bob didn’t flinch. He took another bite of his burger as if Hangman had just asked him about the weather. “Nothing new,” he said simply.

“Tragedy,” Hangman muttered, shaking his head with a grin.

Beside him, Phoenix rolled her eyes and sat back as she sipped from her straw, but not before muttering under her breath, just loud enough for Bob to hear, “Coward.”

Bob didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his expression even as he folded his napkin in half again, smoothing the crease with his thumb. If he answered now, it would only draw more attention.

If he said anything, you might notice, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were a spectacle in someone else’s drama.

You deserved better than that, and he didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable, even accidentally.

So he sat there, listening to the noise of the table rise around him, with your shoulder brushing his again as you turned back to ask Rooster a question about call signs.

He told himself it was enough, that this was fine, because you were beside him. You had chosen that seat. Maybe not for the reason he wanted, but you were there.

And that was more than he’d ever expected. Right?

Bob had just managed to pull himself back into the rhythm of the table, laughing politely, nodding at the right moments, forcing his attention onto Coyote’s rant about someone double-parking their Bronco again, when Jake looked at him.

Not a glance, not a passing look. A full, deliberate pause. Mischief flickered behind Hangman’s eyes like a match just waiting to be lit. His expression was easy, casual even, but Bob knew him too well by now. That look always meant something was about to go sideways.

Bob met his gaze briefly, brows furrowing. Jake tilted his head slightly and raised his glass in a mock toast. Then he shifted in his seat, leaned forward on his elbows, and with surgical precision, turned toward you.

“Hey,” Jake started, voice pitched just right to cut through the noise, “how are you settling in? Penny’s got you working double shifts lately, huh?”

You smiled as you wiped a bit of salt off your fingers. “Yeah, she’s been trusting me with more lately. Not sure if that’s a compliment or if she’s just trying to avoid the late-night crowd.”

Jake chuckled. “Well, if it’s a compliment, you’ve earned it. You handle this place better than half the guys I’ve flown with.”

You laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “That is not a high bar, Bagman.”

“True,” Jake grinned, tapping his glass lightly against the table. “But still, you’ve got something the rest of us don’t.”

Bob tried not to react. He stared down at the condensation ring forming around his glass and took a breath.

Jake continued, voice smooth, casual, laced with something just clever enough to be dangerous. “You’ve got the whole ‘people actually like talking to you’ thing, and I mean that. I’ve seen the way folks stay longer when you’re behind the bar.”

You shrugged modestly, eyes warm. “Well, I listen, so I think that helps.”

Jake smiled, then glanced, briefly but intentionally, at Bob. “Yeah, listening’s a skill, but not everyone’s good at it.”

Bob didn’t move, didn’t flinch, but his fingers curled just slightly around his glass.

Then Jake leaned back and turned toward you again. “You ever get bored of it, though? Listening to people talk about themselves all night?”

You laughed under your breath as you picked up your drink. “Sometimes. Depends on the person, but I don’t mind hearing people’s stories.”

Jake nodded slowly. “What about yours? Who listens to you?”

Bob’s eyes lifted before he could stop them.

You blinked, like you hadn’t been expecting the question to come from him, and there was a beat of silence. Then, you smiled, softer this time. “I don’t know. I guess… not many people ask.”

“Maybe they should,” Jake said, tone light, almost teasing. “Bet it’d surprise a few of us.”

You laughed again, brushing it off as you reached for another fry. “You trying to psychoanalyze me now?”

Jake shrugged. “Nah, just think good people deserve someone who listens back.”

Bob looked down again, heat crawling behind his ears.

Then, Jake turned toward him, casual as ever, and nudged his shoulder once with the back of his knuckles. “Right, Floyd?”

Bob blinked, glancing up, catching the quick glint in Jake’s eye and the faint curve of a grin playing on his lips.

“Y-yeah,” Bob said, clearing his throat. “Yeah, I think so.”

He didn’t dare look at you then. He just reached for his glass again, swallowing the thought before it could become a word.

Jake sat back, satisfied, sipping his drink like nothing had happened, but Bob could feel it. The shift, the air had changed, and even if you didn’t notice yet, even if you still leaned toward Rooster when you laughed, there was something unspoken now settling between you and Bob.

Something Jake had poked loose just enough to rattle, and Bob wasn’t sure if he wanted to thank him or strangle him for it.

A few hours later, the bar was mostly empty, and the energy had dimmed into something quieter, more settled. The jukebox had long since shut off, the chairs were stacked, and Phoenix had waved a lazy goodnight as she ducked out with Coyote and Payback trailing behind her.

Bradley had left earlier, slipping out with a promise to come by for coffee sometime this week. Jake lingered just long enough to shoot Bob another smug glance before tipping his hat and disappearing into the parking lot.

Bob stayed.

He sat at the corner of the bar, sipping the last of something watered down, watching you move through the final closing routine with practiced ease.

You didn’t notice him at first, too focused on wiping down the counter and counting the register, but when you turned to grab your keys, you paused, just slightly, like you had sensed something.

"Bob!" Your brows lifted. “You’re still here?”

Bob straightened a little as he stood, quickly clearing his throat. “Uh, yeah. I—I mean, I figured you might need, well, I remembered earlier you said your car’s still not fixed, and I didn’t want you walking home or calling a ride this late.”

You blinked at him for a moment, then smiled. “Bob.”

His name sounded different coming from you, like you actually meant it.

He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze flicking somewhere near your shoulder. “I just thought… maybe I could drive you? If that’s okay. I mean, if you’re not already set.”

There was a small pause before you nodded once, keys still in hand.

“That’s really sweet, but—” you glanced out the front window toward the beach, where the tide was low and the moon was soft, casting everything in blue and silver. “Can I walk the beach first? Just for a few minutes. I usually do that after closing, and it helps me clear my head.”

Bob blinked, surprised by the question, then nodded quickly. “Yeah, sure, of course.”

You smiled again, smaller this time, and pushed through the door with a soft jingle of keys. He followed at a quiet distance, careful not to hover too close.

The night air was cooler than earlier, carrying the sharp, familiar scent of salt and old wood. The sand crunched lightly beneath your shoes as you stepped off the boardwalk and started down the beach, slow and quiet.

For a while, neither of you said anything.

The ocean moved in the background, steady and gentle, waves lapping at the shore like they had all the time in the world. You walked with your arms loosely folded, head tilted toward the water, and Bob kept a respectful step behind, not quite beside you but not far either.

Eventually, you looked over your shoulder and nodded toward the waterline. “You can walk next to me, you know. I don’t bite.”

Bob smiled softly, catching up. “I know.”

You didn’t speak again for a bit, just let the sand and the sound of the tide fill the silence. He could see the tension easing from your shoulders as you walked, your steps slowing like you didn’t want to go home just yet, and honestly, he didn’t want to drive you there just yet either. He was content just being here.

Then, you glanced at him again, eyes curious. “You always stay this late?”

Bob shook his head. “Only tonight.”

“Because of my car?”

He hesitated for a beat, then answered truthfully. “Because of you.”

You didn’t say anything at first, and he didn’t expect you to, but he felt the shift again, small and quiet, like maybe you were seeing him, really seeing him, for the first time in a while. And for once, he didn’t look away.

After a few more minutes of walking, you drifted closer to where the water met the shore, the waves just brushing past your shoes. Bob followed carefully, keeping the rhythm, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. The silence wasn’t awkward. It felt like it belonged there, like it was allowed to stretch without needing to be filled.

Then, you glanced over at him, your voice cutting through the quiet in a thoughtful tone. “You’re really quiet around me, you know.”

Bob looked over, a little startled. “What?”

“You barely talk,” you said, not unkindly, just honest. “I mean, I’ve known you for a few months now and I think I know more about Payback’s dog than I do about you.”

He let out a short breath that might’ve been a laugh. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“So?” you prompted, a little amused. “What’s your deal, Floyd? You always this mysterious or is it just around me?”

Bob looked down for a second, as if considering how much to give. Then, he smiled, faint but genuine. “It’s not just you. I’ve always been like this.”

You nodded slowly. “That’s not a bad thing. Just means I’ve got to ask more questions.”

Bob chuckled under his breath, then glanced sideways. “You really want to know?”

“Sure,” you said, looking out toward the dark water. “If you don’t mind.”

He was quiet again for a beat, then offered, “I grew up in Kentucky. Small town. Lots of farms, lots of quiet. My parents still live there.”

You glanced back at him. “That tracks.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“You’ve got that whole, dependable small-town guy energy,” you said, smiling a little. “Like you know how to fix fences and drive stick.”

Bob gave a modest shrug. “I do.”

You laughed lightly, then looked ahead again. “I didn’t grow up anywhere near that quiet. My parents moved around a lot, military family and stuff. I barely unpacked before we’d be gone again. Think we lived in seven states before I turned ten.”

Bob glanced at you, his expression softening. “That sounds tough.”

“It was,” you admitted, not quite looking at him. “You get good at starting over, but not at staying. Penny was always the one stable person in my life. She’d send postcards wherever we were. Always signed them with something dumb like ‘Don’t forget who makes the best cheese cake.’”

Bob smiled at that. “She still say that?”

“She texted me that two weeks ago when I didn’t answer her call. I was sleeping!”

He chuckled again, a quiet sound in the open air. “She really loves you.”

“I know,” you said softly, then paused. “I think that’s why I came out here. Just needed something steady for once.”

Bob was quiet for a moment, walking beside you with the surf lapping softly just ahead. Then he asked, “Do you feel like you found that?”

You looked at him for a long second, then smiled—not wide, not dramatic, just enough to reach your eyes.

“I think I might,” you said.

Bob nodded once, eyes on the sand as he kept walking beside you.

By the time the two of you looped back near the edge of the boardwalk, the night had settled into something heavier, quieter. The kind of stillness that came when the world was finally tired enough to rest.

The ocean whispered nearby, all foam and pull, and the wind tugged gently at the hem of your jacket. You were walking closer now, shoulder just brushing his every few steps, not quite touching but near enough to notice when he shifted, near enough to feel the warmth coming off his sleeve.

You stopped walking first, and Bob paused beside you without question, turning toward the water as you looked out at it like it had something to say.

“I was kind of a mess when I got here,” you said, voice soft but deliberate. The words came out like something you’d carried for too long.

Bob turned slightly, watching your profile in the dim light, the way your gaze drifted to the horizon like it hurt to look back at the shore.

“I didn’t really say that to anyone, not even Penny. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, let alone out loud, but I was.” You exhaled, quiet and tired. “I was… really low. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t feel muchand I kept thinking maybe that was just how life was supposed to be.”

Bob didn’t interrupt. He stood there with you, steady, like an anchor just close enough to hold.

“Then Penny offered me the guest room,” you said. “Told me to stop pretending I was okay. Told me to come out here, take a break, just… breathe.”

You looked over at him slowly, your eyes searching his face like you were trying to see if he could hold what you were about to say next. “I didn’t think I’d stay. I figured I’d be gone in a few days.”

Bob swallowed, watching you now, completely still.

“But something about this place felt different,” you continued, eyes soft but steady. “The people. The ocean. The quiet. It was the first time in a long time that I didn’t feel like I had to earn my spot just to exist. And I think—” your voice dipped slightly, careful now “—I think I found someone worth staying for.”

Bob’s breath caught, subtle but real. His fingers curled slightly in the pockets of his jacket. His heart made that same familiar leap, too hopeful, too fast. Then, he forced himself to slow it down, to be rational, to not assume.

He looked down briefly, then back up, eyes skimming your face. “Bradley’s… a good guy.”

You blinked. “What?”

Bob gave a small nod, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach all the way. “He’s got a good heart. People like him. He’s easy to talk to, and I know he likes you.”

There was a pause, and then you turned to face him fully, the line of your shoulders shifting toward him like something inside you had snapped tight.

“It’s not Rooster.”

Bob blinked, startled. “It’s not?”

You took a slow step closer, not too close, but enough that the space between you suddenly felt deliberate. “It’s not. I meant someone else.”

His eyes searched yours, uncertain. You weren’t smiling anymore, not the playful, teasing grin you wore behind the bar. This was something rawer, something truer, and it pulled the breath from his lungs in a quiet wave. Your expression was open in a way he hadn’t seen before, like you were letting him see behind a curtain you normally kept closed.

There was something in your eyes now, too, like something deeper than curiosity, warmer than casual affection. A look that didn’t hide how long you’d been watching him the way he’d been watching you.

“I’m talking about someone who stays behind without being asked. Someone who waits for me after closing, who always listens even when I have nothing worth saying,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. “Someone who never tries to take up all the space in the room, but somehow makes it feel safer just by being there.”

Bob looked away for a second, then back at you. He was trying not to fall headfirst into the thing you were offering. He was trying to protect himself, because he couldn’t quite believe it, not yet. “He sounds… lucky,” he said, careful not to let his voice shake.

You watched him, your brow furrowing just slightly. “Yeah,” you said. “I think he is, or he would be. If he felt the same.”

Your eyes didn’t leave his. They stayed right there, open, waiting, soft in the edges but bright with something that looked like hope, or maybe just the kind of yearning that lived in quiet places. The kind that never demanded anything, just wanted to be seen.

Bob stood there with his breath held like he might drop something if he exhaled. And still, he said nothing.

Because the part of him that loved you the most was the same part that was terrified to believe this was real.

- You -

After you bared your soul to Bob Floyd, nothing dramatic happened. The sky didn’t fall. The earth didn’t tilt. You didn’t wake up the next day wrapped in some cinematic resolution.

What came instead was quieter. He hadn’t said anything that night, and in the days that followed, his silence stretched long enough to feel like an answer you didn’t want to hear.

At first, you tried to give him space. Maybe he needed time. You told yourself that, over and over, like a mantra you didn’t quite believe. He was thoughtful, cautious by nature.

Maybe he just didn’t know what to do with a moment like that, with someone standing in front of him asking him to be sure about something he had never dared to want out loud.

You excused his distance the first few days, chalked it up to nerves or work or some internal battle he hadn’t figured out how to name yet.

Then a week passed. Then two.

Meanwhile, life kept moving around you. Penny teased you about always being lost in your head. The Dagger Squad still came in for drinks and darts and nights that ended in someone losing a bet. Rooster flirted with a girl from town. Phoenix rolled her eyes at every single one of Jake’s one-liners.

And Bob? Bob was there, technically. He came in with the group, always on time, always polite. He nodded when you greeted him, smiled when the moment called for it, but the quiet between you was different now. Measured. Careful.

He didn’t stay behind after closing anymore. He didn’t sit at the bar with his hands folded while you cleaned up. He didn’t offer to walk you out to your car or wait by the door pretending he just happened to be there.

You noticed every time he left before the music ended. You noticed when he talked more to Phoenix, when he stared harder at his drink. You noticed when he didn’t look at you unless you spoke directly to him.

Then, came the creeping thoughts, the ones that curled around your ribs at night when you tried to sleep. Had you misread it all? The glances, the soft silences, the way he always stayed just a little longer than he needed to.

You wondered if he regretted letting you say it. If he wished you hadn’t. If your honesty had ruined something that wasn’t even fully alive to begin with.

You started second-guessing your words. You replayed that night in your head so many times it felt like a memory pressed under glass.

And still, Bob said nothing.

You didn’t want to chase him. You didn’t want to make him feel cornered or forced, but the hurt settled in slowly, like the way ocean salt clings to your skin long after you’ve dried off.

You missed him.

Missed him in the kind of way that snuck up on you during the little moments, the quiet in between shifts, the way you’d glance up out of habit and expect to see him leaning against the wall, waiting.

But he was gone, not completely, but just enough to make you feel the difference. And you were starting to wonder if he had ever really been yours to begin with.

You remember having a joke before about having a thing for Rooster. He was easy to like. Loud in a charming way, confident without being cruel, handsome in that classic, all-American way that turned heads when he walked into the bar. He made people laugh. He made you laugh.

For a while, it was enough to have him flirt with you across the counter, toss you a wink after landing a bullseye at the dartboard, tease you about your drink preferences like it was some shared secret. It was simple, and safe in its own shallow way.

But somewhere along the line, somewhere between closing shifts and long glances and the sound of Bob’s voice saying your name just once in a quiet room, you realized it had never really been about Rooster.

Because while everyone else was turning up the volume, Bob was steady. He didn’t try to impress anyone, didn’t spin stories or flash that practiced grin. He was just there. Patient, observant, always listening, and always waiting.

And now, without meaning to, your thoughts kept looping back to him. You saw him in the quiet moments, where nothing loud or clever could fill the space. The ones where presence mattered more than words.

And maybe that was why it hurt more than you expected, because you hadn’t just liked Bob. You’d started seeing him.

He wasn’t loud or traditionally flashy, but he had that kind of presence you didn’t fully appreciate until it was missing. He was tall, sure, but never made himself bigger than the room. His movements were careful, efficient, like someone who knew how to blend in but never truly disappear.

There was a softness to the way he carried himself, thoughtful and precise, like everything he did had purpose. His sandy hair always looked like it needed a few more minutes in the mirror, but it somehow worked on him, just slightly ruffled, like he’d been running his hand through it all day.

And his eyes, behind those glasses, were the kind you didn’t notice until you really looked. Clear blue, a little shy, always gentle, but there were moments when they caught the light just right and made your breath catch.

You remembered that night on the beach. The way he’d looked at you when you said it, really said it, and how something in his face had almost cracked. You thought he might say something then. Anything, but he hadn’t. He’d just looked at you with those quiet, stunned eyes and let the moment pass.

Now, two weeks later, it was all still sitting with you.

And no amount of Rooster’s charm or Jake’s jokes or Phoenix’s sideways glances could fill the space Bob had left behind.

Because it wasn’t just a crush anymore. It wasn’t something light or flirty or fun. It was something that had snuck up on you when you weren’t watching. And it was wearing glasses and a quiet smile and a name that was starting to taste like longing every time you said it.

The worst part was that he hadn’t said anything.

Not that he’d rejected you outright, and certianly not that he’d laughed or pulled away or looked horrified. He just... hadn’t said anything. And that silence? It was louder than any no you’d ever heard.

As the days stretched on, you started wondering if you’d imagined the whole thing. Maybe you’d read too far into a kind gesture, misinterpreted a kind man. Maybe he had never looked at you that way.

Maybe he had been kind because that’s just who he was, and you’d gone and ruined everything by making it more than that. It would’ve been easier if he’d told you you were wrong. If he’d said he didn’t see you like that.

At least then you could’ve buried it properly, but this? This careful avoidance, this half-hearted politeness when you passed behind the bar, this space he put between you every time you were in the same room, it just felt worse.

Meanwhile, your thoughts kept looping in circles, dragging you into places you didn’t want to go. Was he ashamed of you? Had your honesty made him uncomfortable? Had he gone home that night and replayed it all with a wince, wondering why someone like you would even think he could feel the same?

You didn’t want to believe that. Not from Bob, but your brain didn’t care. It was like it made its own monsters in the dark.

Maybe he’d been disgusted, maybe he thought you were too much, too forward, and too broken. You’d been vulnerable in a way you hadn’t been in a long time. You’d said things you didn’t even mean to say until they were already out of your mouth.

What if he had seen you differently after that? What if he pitied you?

Then, there was the deeper, more painful thought; the one that caught in your throat every time it surfaced. What if he had wanted to say something, but decided not to because he didn’t want you like that? What if the reason he didn’t speak was because it was easier to walk away than to face the disappointment in your eyes?

You started pulling back, even when you didn’t mean to. You smiled less, you lingered at the bar a little longer to avoid walking past him, you laughed at Hangman’s stupid jokes just to fill the silence.

You pretended Rooster still made your heart skip, even though he never had, but not in the way Bob did, at least. You tried to pretend it didn’t matter, that you hadn’t stood in front of him, heart open and hands shaking, asking for something small and simple.

You weren’t asking him to love you. You’d only wanted to know if he could. And now? Now you didn’t even know if he’d ever really seen you at all.

Eventually, you started blaming yourself.

Not just for saying too much, but for believing in the first place that you ever had a chance. The more time passed, the more it sunk in; how foolish you must have looked, how naive you must have sounded, standing there that night like some starry-eyed fool thinking that your feelings meant something.

You played it back in your head, the way his eyes had gone wide, the way his mouth opened and closed, the way the silence stretched just long enough to hurt. And still, you told yourself he needed time. That he was shy, or overwhelmed, or maybe just stunned by the idea that anyone could want him like that.

But now, after two weeks of polite distance and half-smiles that felt like placeholders, you saw the truth for what it was. You’d read too far into everything. You’d taken his kindness and mistook it for something more. You’d turned his gentle nature into something romantic because it was easier to believe he could love you than it was to admit how lonely you were.

Meanwhile, every moment you’d clung to before started crumbling under closer inspection.

That time he stayed late to walk you to your car? He probably just didn’t want you walking alone. The way he listened when you talked about your childhood? Maybe he was just being polite. Maybe he wasn’t holding on to your words the way you were holding on to his silence. Maybe he never looked at you the way you looked at him. Maybe he never even saw you that way.

Then, came the part that stung worst of all. You had told him. You had shown him. And still, he hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t come back with an apology or a gentle letdown. He hadn’t asked if you were okay or said he needed time or even offered you a friend’s honesty. He had just... faded.

And that left you with only one conclusion. You must have imagined it all.

You must have taken every quiet moment and twisted it into a fairytale. You must have seen something in him that was never really there. And how embarrassing was that?

How delusional had you been to think someone like Bob Floyd, kind and steady and good in a way you hadn’t known people could be, could ever look at someone like you and feel the same?

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. You weren’t subtle. You had laid everything out for him, eyes wide, voice shaking, heart damn near bleeding at his feet. And he hadn’t even had to say no.

His silence had done the job for him. It was almost worse this way, the slow drip of rejection hidden under the surface of normalcy. At least if he’d said he didn’t feel the same, you could’ve begun to heal. Now all you had were the pieces of something you had built alone. And the painful knowledge that none of it, not a single part, had ever belonged to you.

“Hey,” Bradley said gently, his voice low and a little rough around the edges. “Hey, look at me.”

The sound of your name broke through the haze, pulling you back to yourself just enough to flinch. You hadn’t realized anyone had come outside.

You hadn’t realized how long you’d been sitting there, knees tucked up slightly, arms loose at your sides, eyes fixed on some blurred spot in the distance where the sky met the sea. You jumped when you felt the hand on your shoulder, then turned quickly, heart skipping.

Bradley stood just behind you, looking more serious than you were used to seeing him. He held a bottle in one hand and worry in his eyes, the kind that didn’t need explaining.

Without saying much else, he moved around and sat beside you on the porch swing, the old chains creaking softly under the added weight. He handed you the beer without ceremony and leaned back, one arm resting along the back of the swing, close but not quite touching.

Penny had all but pushed you out here fifteen minutes ago, and she told you she didn’t care how many glasses needed washing or how many people still needed tabs, then she said you were zoning out again, and it was starting to scare her.

You hadn’t argued, so you’d come out and settled on the swing you’d talked her into buying last spring, swearing it would bring in more customers, give the place a softer edge. Now, it just felt like a place to fall apart quietly.

“I’d be stupid to ask if you’re okay,” Bradley said after a moment, cracking the cap off his own bottle and taking a small sip.

You forced a small, shaky laugh. “I’m fine.”

But he turned his head toward you, sharp and certain, before you could even blink. “Do not lie to me, sweetheart.”

The words landed heavy, not cruel, but weighted in the way that told you he wasn’t going to let it slide this time. He knew, maybe not everything, and maybe not the full mess of what you were holding, but enough, enough to call it what it was.

You didn’t speak at first. The beer sat cold in your hand, untouched, forgotten. The swing moved just slightly beneath you both, the creak of the chain giving your silence rhythm.

You felt the wind slip through your hair, and you stared straight ahead, trying to find something steady in the blur of night lights reflecting off parked cars and distant waves.

It felt like something in you had cracked open, not loudly, but slowly, and all the thoughts you’d tried to keep buried had begun to spill into everything, every glance, every breath, every reminder of what you’d said and what he hadn’t.

And now Bradley was here, waiting quietly beside you, like he’d seen the whole thing unravel without ever needing you to say a word.

You didn’t answer him right away, and Bradley didn’t push. He just let the silence settle between you again, steady as the tide. His fingers tapped once, twice, against the glass of his beer bottle before he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

The porch light buzzed faintly above, casting a soft glow over the railing, and the hum of conversation from inside the Hard Deck faded into the background.

“I won’t ask,” he said eventually, eyes fixed ahead. “But I’ll tell you something, and you don’t have to say a word back. Just... let me talk, alright?”

You nodded once, barely more than a tilt of your head. It was all the permission he needed.

“When I was a kid, my mom used to tell me this story about how she met my dad,” he began, voice easy and even, like he wasn’t trying to make it serious, just keep it honest.

“She said he used to come into this greasy little diner she worked at every Sunday, like clockwork. Sat at the same booth, ordered the same thing, barely said more than a few words to her the first month. She thought he was sweet, kind of quiet, kind of awkward.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze stayed fixed on the horizon, somewhere far away from the parking lot and the bar and whatever weight you were both carrying.

“She swore she caught him staring sometimes, but he always looked away too fast. She used to joke that he looked like he was trying to memorize her but didn’t want her to notice. Said he always left good tips, always thanked her, but never flirted. Not once, but for weeks.”

There was a softness to Bradley’s voice now, one that only came when he talked about his mother. You’d heard it before, usually in quieter moments, and it always held a kind of reverence that made you ache.

“Then one night,” he continued, “she was working a late shift, and rain was coming down hard, place was almost empty. She was wiping down the counter when he came in soaking wet, no umbrella, no coat, just dripping all over the floor. She asked what the hell he was doing out in that weather, and he said he forgot his wallet the last time he came in. Handed it over like he’d come all that way for something that dumb.”

He paused for a beat, then smiled faintly. “But she swore he didn’t forget anything. He just needed an excuse to come back. That was the night he asked if he could walk her home.”

The wind rustled gently through the nearby trees, and for a moment it felt like you could almost see it, that little diner, the rain on the windows, the quiet rhythm of something small beginning.

“She said she knew then,” Bradley said, finally glancing over at you. “Said she knew that someone who came back just to give her a reason to see him again was someone who’d stay.”

You looked away quickly, eyes burning with something you didn’t want to explain. He didn’t mention Bob. He didn’t have to, and you could hear it in the way he told the story. Y

ou could feel the shape of it beneath every word. And still, he didn’t push. He just leaned back again, letting the swing move with the wind, like time could slow down if he just let it.

For a while, you didn’t say anything. You just sat there, eyes fixed on the space between your shoes and the wooden porch floor, your fingers tracing the rim of the bottle without really noticing, but something about Bradley’s voice, about the softness in that story, had carved out enough silence inside you that the words finally had somewhere to land.

“I really thought he felt the same,” you said quietly, barely more than a breath.

Bradley didn’t react right away. He stayed still, just listening, not pushing you to keep going, not rushing to fill the quiet. So, you kept talking, because now that it had started spilling, you didn’t know how to stop.

“I told myself not to hope. I mean... I’ve done this before. I’ve fallen for people who were never mine to begin with, but this time it felt different, slower, softer. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, it just… built. And I thought maybe he was just waiting, maybe he was scared, but it’s been two weeks and he’s barely even looked at me.”

Bradley let out a quiet breath through his nose, nodding once like he understood more than you realized. You glanced at him, and he didn’t look smug or surprised, just calm, like someone you could lean on without asking.

“I keep thinking,” you said, your voice cracking just a little, “how stupid I must’ve been to think he actually wanted me. Like I made it all up in my head, every little look, every quiet moment. Maybe I’m just… too much.”

Bradley turned to you then, his eyes steady as they met yours. He didn’t speak right away. He just reached out and gently placed his hand over yours, grounding you.

“You’re not too much,” he said, firm but quiet. “Don’t ever think that, and you weren’t stupid. Anyone who made you feel like you were? That’s on them, not you.”

Your chest tightened. The tears you’d been holding back all day finally started pushing at the edges. You didn’t even try to stop them this time. You looked away, blinking hard, and then Bradley shifted beside you, opening his arms just a little like he wasn’t sure you’d take the offer.

You didn’t even hesitate.

You leaned into him, your forehead pressing to his shoulder as his arms came around you in a firm, steady hug. Not romantic. Not complicated. Just warm and solid and safe. You let yourself breathe for the first time in days.

And then, the door creaked open behind you. You froze.

Bradley tensed slightly beneath you, then turned his head toward the door. You didn’t move right away, but your heart sank before you even heard the voice.

“Oh,” Bob said, voice clipped and uncertain. “Sorry, uh...I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You pulled back slowly, your heart hammering against your ribs as you turned your head just enough to see him standing there in the open doorway, his hand still on the handle like he hadn’t fully stepped out. His eyes flicked from you to Bradley and back, unreadable in the low porch light.

Before you could say a word, he nodded once, quick, awkward, and stepped back inside, letting the door close behind him with a soft, final click. The silence that followed was heavier than before.

And this time, it wasn’t just yours. Was it really?

Bradley exhaled slowly, leaning back on the swing as you pulled away. His arm dropped to his side, but his eyes stayed on you, studying the way your posture had changed. You were still sitting, but something in you had shifted, gone taut like a wire pulled too tight. He saw it before you even stood.

“He saw something that wasn’t what it looked like,” he said quietly. “If it matters that much to you, go tell him.”

You looked at him then, heart already rising into your throat. “What if it’s too late?”

Bradley gave a small smile, nothing showy, just enough to feel real. “Then at least you’ll know you tried.”

You were already on your feet before he finished speaking.

Your boots hit the wooden porch hard as you turned toward the Hard Deck and pushed the door open, the warm noise of the bar spilling out into the night.

Inside, everything looked the same as it always did, Jake and Natasha nursing drinks at the high-top, Javy half-asleep on the couch by the jukebox, Mickey talking to a girl at the bar, but Bob wasn’t there.

Panic flared up as your eyes scanned the room again, faster this time. You moved toward the others, voice already raised a little louder than you meant it to be.

“Where’s Bob?”

Jake looked up from his drink, raising one brow with a smirk already forming. “Left a minute ago,” he said, drawing the words out with that usual drawl. “Looked like he had something on his mind.”

Phoenix gave him a side-glare, but Jake only grinned, tilting his beer bottle toward you. “Might wanna hurry, darlin’. Pretty sure he’s heading for the parking lot.”

Then, he winked.

You didn’t wait for the rest. You were already turning, already pushing through the door again before Phoenix could finish rolling her eyes. The night air hit you fast as you broke into a run, boots hitting pavement, heart racing, breath uneven as your eyes searched the parking lot for any sign of him.

But he was nowhere to be found. Not near the cars, not by the road, not leaning against the building like he sometimes did when he needed air.

You turned in a slow circle, breath catching, chest tightening, and for a moment you thought maybe, just maybe, you’d already lost him.

The first rumble of thunder rolled across the sky like a warning, low and distant, but enough to make you glance upward. The clouds had thickened without you noticing, dark smudges swallowing the stars you’d barely registered when you ran out here.

You kept walking anyway, your breath catching somewhere between hope and regret, your boots pounding across the vast stretch of asphalt that seemed to go on forever.

The Hard Deck’s parking lot felt impossibly big now, like it had swallowed him whole. You turned one way, then another, looking past the cars and over the fence toward the road, hoping to catch a glimpse of his figure in the dark. Nothing. No movement, no headlights, just the hum of silence.

And then, the sky split open.

The thunder cracked louder this time, and a second later the rain came down hard and fast, no preamble, no gentle drizzle. Just a sudden downpour, sharp and cold and unrelenting.

It soaked you instantly, plastering your shirt to your skin and pushing your hair down over your forehead. You stopped in the middle of the lot, blinking against the water, teeth clenched as you spun in one last desperate circle.

“Shit,” you breathed out, voice swallowed by the storm. “Shit!”

You kicked at a puddle with the side of your foot, frustration rising until it choked you. Then, slowly, without really thinking about it, you turned away from the cars and walked across the lot toward the dunes.

The sand felt cold under your boots as you stepped over the edge of the boardwalk, then softer as it gave under your feet. The tide was coming in slow and steady, the ocean dark and wild beneath the storm, but you didn’t stop. You moved closer until the wind off the water hit your skin like a slap.

The rain kept falling, heavier now, washing over your arms and shoulders and cheeks, mixing with the tears you didn’t even realize had started until your vision blurred.

You stopped walking, right where the wet sand met the dry, and you let your knees give a little, sinking down just enough to wrap your arms around yourself. The tears came harder now, not the quiet kind, but the full-body kind. The kind you only let loose when there’s no one around to see it.

Because what was wrong with you?

Why did you always love the wrong people, or love the right ones at the wrong time?

Why did your heart have to choose the person who couldn’t say anything back?

Why did you open yourself up at all, when it only ever ended like this, alone, soaked to the bone, watching the world pretend not to notice?

You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to muffle the sound, but it didn’t matter. The wind carried it away.

And then, so softly you almost didn’t feel it, something touched your shoulder.

You looked up, eyes stinging.

An umbrella had been tilted over you, its wide canopy blocking the worst of the rain. The water still dripped off the edges, pooling around you in the sand, but suddenly the sound wasn’t so loud. The sky felt a little less heavy.

Someone had come back.

- Bob -

It was the way your head rested against Bradley’s shoulder that did it. Not the hug itself. Not even the rainclouds already threatening the sky. It was the intimacy of it. The ease.

The way you leaned into him like you belonged there. Bob had seen plenty of hugs before. He’d even been on the receiving end of one or two from you. But this was different.

This looked like something he wasn’t supposed to see.

“Oh,” Bob said quietly, voice tight in his throat. “Sorry, uh...I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You turned toward him, startled, but he didn’t wait for you to explain. He just nodded once and backed into the doorway before the swing could creak again, before you or Bradley could say anything that might make it worse. The sound of the door clicking shut behind him felt final, like the end of a page he hadn’t meant to write.

He moved quickly across the bar, making his way to where the squad was still lounging. He didn’t say much. Just a quiet “Night,” as he passed Phoenix, who raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask, and then Coyote, who was halfway through a drink.

He didn’t even glance at Jake, who was mid-laugh over something Mickey said. Bob didn’t want to hear the jokes. He didn’t want a conversation. He just wanted to leave before whatever was knotted in his chest made its way to his face.

Outside again, the air felt heavier. Humid and tense. He inhaled slowly as he walked across the lot, weaving between cars toward the overflow patch of gravel on the far end of the property where he had parked earlier.

The bar had been packed when he arrived. He hadn’t minded the extra walk then. Now, he was grateful for it. Maybe the distance would help clear his head.

He reached for his door handle, only to pause. His keys were not in his pocket.

He checked again. Patting down the front, the side. Even crouched to peek under the car in case he’d dropped them on the walk out. Nothing.

Bob closed his eyes, jaw tightening as the first flicker of lightning cracked across the clouds. A second later, thunder rolled in low and slow behind it. Of course. Of course. He exhaled sharply, eyes stinging more than he wanted to admit, and turned on his heel.

The back door was closer than the front, so he made his way around the building and slipped in through the rear entrance near the storage room. Inside, the music was muffled and the lights were dimmer, but the voices of his squad were unmistakable.

Jake looked up first, brows lifted in surprise. “What the hell, man? I thought you just left.”

Bob didn’t slow his pace. “I forgot my keys,” he muttered, stepping toward their table with zero interest in lingering.

Jake blinked at him, then grinned slowly. “And you came all the way back for that? You sure it’s not because your one true love is still in the vicinity?”

Bob rolled his eyes, hand outstretched. “Give me the keys, Seresin.”

Bradley, who had just come back inside from the porch, walked past Jake and dropped into the seat beside Mickey with a dramatic sigh. Then he looked up at Bob, eyes calm, and said, “Go get your girl.”

Bob froze, confusion flickering across his face. “What?”

Bradley just gave him a pat on the shoulder and leaned back, tossing an arm over the back of the booth like he hadn’t just dropped something massive into the middle of the room. “You’ll figure it out.”

Jake chuckled, pulling Bob’s keys from his jacket pocket and tossing them with a lazy underhand. “Godspeed, lover boy,” he said with a wink.

Bob caught them with a half-hearted glare, then turned to leave again, shoulders tight. The rain had started properly by the time he stepped back outside.

Not just a drizzle, but a full downpour, wind kicking up droplets sideways as he squinted against the water. He didn’t have a jacket, of course not, but he did spot a forgotten umbrella resting in the metal stand by the exit door, probably something Penny kept for guests who never remembered the forecast.

He grabbed it without hesitation.

As he started toward his car again, umbrella tilted forward to block the worst of the storm, he squinted toward the shoreline. The wind had shifted, making it harder to see, but something near the dunes caught his eye.

A figure, small and still with knees drawn in, head down, hunched against the rain.

His chest tightened instantly, because he knew exactly who it was.

You.

Bob’s breath caught as soon as he saw you.

You were there, just beyond the edge of the dunes, curled in on yourself, knees drawn up, the sand clinging to your boots and the hem of your jeans. Rain poured down over you like the sky itself was mourning something, but you weren’t moving. You just sat there like you had nowhere else to go.

For a second, he didn’t know what to do.

He stood frozen, umbrella in one hand, heart in his throat, soaked already from the walk and not caring in the slightest. The wind tugged at his sleeves, the cold crawling under the collar of his shirt, but his eyes didn’t leave you.

Not when the waves crashed, and certainly not when thunder growled low in the clouds.

Then, before he could lose his nerve again, he moved.

Each step down the beach felt like something deliberate, something that might rewrite everything or wreck it entirely. By the time he reached you, your shoulders were shaking. He didn’t know if it was from the cold or the crying, and the thought of either made something tighten behind his ribs.

He tilted the umbrella gently over your head, angling it to cover as much of you as he could. The rain pinged off the canopy, water spilling down the sides and pooling into the sand. He didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t have to.

You turned slowly, blinking up at him with eyes red from tears, your face half-shielded by your hand.

When you spoke, it was soft, hoarse. “Bob?”

He swallowed hard. “What are you doing out here?”

You didn’t answer right away. You just stared at him like you couldn’t believe he was real. Then, pushing up off the sand, you stood slowly. You were already soaked through, hair clinging to your cheeks, your clothes heavy with rain.

The umbrella barely covered you both, so Bob tilted it even further toward your side, letting the drops hit the back of his neck, soak his shoulders. It didn’t matter.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” you said, wiping your face roughly with the back of your hand. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I—” Bob scoffed, quiet but incredulous. “What are you doing here? It’s pouring. You’re out in the middle of the beach, alone. You—you’re crying.”

“And?”

The word hit him like a slap, not because of what you said, but how. Defensive. Deflecting. Just like you always were when something hurt and you didn’t want to admit it.

He stepped back just slightly, shifting his weight. “You shouldn’t be out here. You could get sick.”

“I can handle a little rain, Bob.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

The frustration in your voice made something snap in him. Not anger. Just the helpless ache of wanting to understand and getting nothing but walls.

“You’re out here like the world’s ending,” he said, not harsh, but loud enough to cut through the sound of the ocean. “And I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what I walked in on earlier, but whatever it is, it clearly messed you up. So why won’t you just say it?”

Your jaw tightened. Bob’s eyes searched yours, and he hated how wet your lashes were, how you kept blinking like it might stop the tears from falling again.

“You left,” you said, barely louder than the waves. “You saw me and Bradley and you just left. You didn’t ask. You didn’t say anything. You just walked away.”

“Because I thought—” Bob started, then stopped, mouth opening again before the words would come. “Because I thought maybe I’d finally misread everything. That maybe I really was just the guy who stood beside you while you reached for someone else.”

You went still.

Bob felt the rain trickling down his collar, the weight of it sinking into his clothes, but none of it mattered. Not when he could see the tremble in your chin.

Not when his hands were gripping the handle of the umbrella too tightly, like it was the only thing keeping him from breaking open completely.

“I came out here to go home,” he said, voice raw now. “I wasn’t trying to chase you. I wasn’t trying to win anything. I just… saw you and knew I couldn’t leave like that. Not when you looked like—”

“Like what?” you snapped. “Like someone who’s miserable because the person she cares about doesn’t even see her?”

Bob stared.

The umbrella slipped in his hand slightly as his grip faltered. Your chest was rising and falling fast now, tears sliding down your cheeks again even as the rain tried to wash them away.

“You don’t get to be the only one hurt here,” you whispered, and Bob’s breath hitched at the sound.

Bob’s hands were trembling now, just barely, but he didn’t care if you noticed. The umbrella had shifted again, tilted awkwardly between you as the wind pushed it sideways, the handle slipping under his palm.

You stood there in front of him, soaked, furious, breaking right in front of him, and still so beautiful it physically hurt.

He reached out with his free hand, curling his fingers around your wrist gently, almost pleading. “Can we just—can we please go somewhere dry? Please? You’re shaking. I’m shaking. This is…”

“No.”

You didn’t yell it. You didn’t need to. You said it with steel in your voice, steady and clear, enough to stop him cold. His hand dropped back to his side, and the umbrella dipped lower, forgotten.

“You don’t get to do that,” you continued, eyes shining with something deeper than just tears. “You don’t get to show up and look at me like that and then leave. For two weeks, Bob. I bared my soul to you and then you disappeared. You looked at me like I meant something, like maybe I wasn’t alone in feeling this—and then you vanished.”

The words were falling faster now, unfiltered, raw. Your chest heaved as you stood your ground, unmoving, hair plastered to your face, water running down your neck.

“I spent the last two weeks thinking I imagined everything. That I was delusional. That maybe I was just another sad story in your life you didn’t want to deal with. I thought, hell, I thought maybe you were ashamed of me. That I’d embarrassed you somehow. Because how else do you explain silence like that, Bob? After everything—”

“I never—”

“No. Let me finish,” you snapped, voice cracking slightly. “You don’t get to shut me out and then show up and pretend like I’m the one who needs fixing. I was hurting, and you walked away. And I tried to pretend it didn’t break me but it did, Bob. It really did. And you know what’s worse? I would’ve forgiven you. I still—”

He dropped the umbrella.

It fell between you with a quiet thud, folding uselessly into the sand as the wind dragged it sideways. Then, in a single, swift step, he closed the distance between you, and his hands came up to your face, framing it with a tenderness that contradicted the desperate pull in his breath.

And then, he kissed you.

It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t shy. It was soaked and shaking and aching from two weeks of silence, from a year of almosts, from the weight of everything left unsaid.

His lips pressed to yours like he needed to be sure this was real, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he waited one second longer. You felt the way his chest rose against yours, the way his hands curled into your damp hair like he was anchoring himself.

He kissed you like someone drowning, and you kissed him back like you’d been waiting your whole damn life.

The moment their lips parted, Bob felt it like an ache. Not just in his chest, but in every part of him that had been holding back for too long. His breath came ragged, wet hair dripping into his eyes, and he let out a soft, disbelieving laugh as he looked at you.

There was a smile on his face now, gentle and quiet, like the storm had finally stilled, like maybe, just maybe, everything had been worth it.

Then, your hand hit his cheek with a sharp crack.

Bob reeled, not backward, just enough to blink the rain from his lashes and stare at you, stunned. His hand went instinctively to his cheek, now stinging from the slap, and he stood there completely still as you looked back at him with tears pouring down your face.

“What the hell was that?” you cried out, voice wobbling with more than just anger. “Why did you kiss me?! I—I had a whole speech, Bob! I practiced! I spent days trying to figure out how to say this to you and you—you just—”

“I—”

“I wasn’t done!” you snapped, both hands now clenched at your sides, your chest rising fast. “I had this whole damn thing ready and I was gonna look you in the eye and tell you that you make me feel like I’m not broken, that I feel safe with you and myself with you and God, Bob, you kissed me in the middle of it! What kind of timing, I mean, who does that?!”

He should’ve said something, but the lump in his throat was too thick, his heart too full. So instead, he stepped closer. One hand came up, trembling slightly as he touched your chin with the softest tip of his finger, lifting your face until your eyes met his again.

You looked furious, you looked wrecked, and you looked like you had waited for someone to choose you for far too long. And he did.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words catching like gravel in his throat.

His hand slid from your chin to your jaw, fingers brushing your cheekbone gently, the same one you had just slapped. His other hand found your lower back, firm and steady as he pulled you closer, pressing you carefully against him, like he was holding something fragile.

The rain was still pouring around you, but Bob didn’t feel it anymore. Not when you were this close.

His voice cracked on the first words.

“I didn’t mean to run,” he said, voice hoarse, barely audible over the storm. “I—I didn’t know what to do. I thought you were with Rooster. I saw you with him and it—it hurt so much I thought maybe I’d made the whole thing up in my head. That I was just… the background guy. Again. And I couldn’t stand it.”

You opened your mouth, but he shook his head quickly, eyes glassy. “Please, just… let me say this?”

You nodded.

“I love you.”

The words hit like a punch, and Bob had to blink fast as tears mixed with the rain on his face.

“I don’t know when it started,” he continued, stumbling slightly as the words finally spilled out, “but I think it was that first night at the bar when Penny introduced you to us. You were laughing at something Jake said, and I thought, God, I’m in trouble, because you looked at everyone like they were familiar, but when you looked at me, it felt like, like I mattered. And I never feel like that, not really.”

You were staring at him now, lips parted, rain dripping off your chin.

“And every time you talked to me, I couldn’t think straight. I’d remember later what I should have said, but in the moment, all I could do was hope you’d say something else just so I could keep hearing your voice. And then I saw you crushing on Rooster and I thought, Of course. Why wouldn’t you fall for the guy who’s everything I’m not?”

His thumb traced a gentle line under your eye, where a tear had carved a path.

“But then you looked at me that night on the beach. And I thought, maybe, Maybe I wasn’t just imagining it. Maybe I wasn’t being delusional.”

He took a breath, shaking.

“I love the way you talk when you’re too tired to filter yourself. I love how you take care of everyone, even when you’re falling apart. I love how stubborn you are. I love your damn porch swing, and the way you light up when you talk about stupid things like sandwich order preferences. I love every single part of you.”

His voice cracked again, eyes locked to yours.

“And I swear I would’ve said it sooner, if I wasn’t so afraid of losing the only thing in my life that felt good and real.”

You didn’t say anything right away. You didn’t have to. Bob could see it, your eyes glassy, your lips parted, your chest trembling from holding back too much for too long. You were crying, full and silent, the kind that made his chest twist because it meant you were really feeling it now.

And maybe he was too, because he didn’t even bother wiping at the tears running down his own cheeks.

What was the point? The rain was doing a damn good job of hiding them, but the heat in his throat said they were there anyway.

You reached up slowly, fingers brushing along the side of his neck, uncertain at first. Bob leaned into the touch like it was gravity, like the choice had already been made for him.

Your hand slid higher, into the mess of his damp hair, curling gently like it was something sacred.

He closed his eyes at that, just for a second. He didn’t need to look to feel it. He already knew that you were choosing him.

So, he kissed you.

And this time, it wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t rushed or chaotic or driven by panic. It was slow. It was soft.

It was the kind of kiss that unfolded instead of exploded, that whispered you’re safe here instead of screaming don’t leave me.

His hands stayed steady, one resting gently at the small of your back, the other brushing your jaw with the kind of care he always used when he handled delicate things.

Your fingers curled tighter in his hair, pulling him closer, and he went willingly, without hesitation. The rain kept falling, soaking through every layer of clothing, dripping down your joined hands, your cheeks, your chins. You were soaked, cold, and probably going to get sick after this.

And neither of you cared, because something in the world had finally shifted into place.

When you finally pulled apart, it was only by a breath. Just far enough for your foreheads to touch, noses brushing, tears still clinging to both of your faces.

“I love you too, Robert Floyd,” you whispered, voice cracking on his name like it was the only truth that ever mattered.

Bob laughed, quiet and hoarse, and leaned into you again, one hand coming up to cup the side of your face as he looked at you, really looked.

“Say it again,” he said, not because he didn’t believe it, but because he needed to hear it. Like a balm. Like a song.

You smiled, still crying. “I love you, Bob.”

And so, he kissed you again.

This time slower.

This time longer.

And this time like he’d never let you forget it.

#bob floyd x reader #bob x reader #bob floyd #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake seresin #natasha trace #top gun fandom #avengxrz

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couch-potato28 · 3 days ago

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ROMANTIC MOMENTS CAUGHT BY FANS WITH THE BLLK BOYS! 📸

PT 3.

🎥 synopsis: Your relationship with him is already established but fans still can’t get enough of the two of you—always wanting more crumbs. Accidental meetups, funny moments and romantic scenes that get captured or posted by them online offer the world a chance to witness little glimpses of your dynamic with him.

🎞️ a/n: Lowk Karasu’s part feels a little inaccurate but could just be me, also he’s aged up! Honestly this whole series feels very goofy. Ty for reading tho lmao

🎬 characters: hiori y., karasu t., isagi y., michael k., nanase n. and reo m.

Hiori Yo—viral video

Both of you frequently watched the “Compilation of Hiori Yo being a simp for Y/N for 15 minutes straight” titled video that was edited by a fan of his who took the time to cut together all of your boyfriend’s soft moments caught on camera during his livestreams.

The football player would often stream besides playing on the field, wanting to virtually connect with his fans through the screens while also enjoying his hobby of gaming.

During the long hours of talking online—fans would often ask questions about you that he would happily read out loud before carefully answering every single one of them—sheepishly praising you for simply existing including the act of breathing itself.

His fans swore they saw heart eyes appear whenever you were mentioned, showcasing just how whipped to the core he was.

6.5 million views and a comment from:

@hioyooo_16: got caught in 4K

Karasu Tabito—dirtbag picture

Being an average high schooler, then debuting as a football star at 17, and now playing in a pro league��that was the dream for a lot of kids. Your boyfriend worked hard to get where he is now, and according to everyone who went to school with him, one thing was universally agreed on: Karasu was smart and athletic as hell.

So what happens when one of his diehard fans turns out to be a student from the very same high school he once attended?

Obviously, they start snooping around. And somehow, they manage to dig up an old yearbook from your boyfriend’s graduating class—complete with a few random photos left behind by the football team years ago.

Days later, Karasu’s name was suddenly trending. Thousands of fans were tagging him in a post: a grainy photo uploaded by that same fan.

It was a small polaroid, probably taken with someone’s old digital camera after the school’s football team had won the regional title and gone out to celebrate.

And there it was—your faces squished together, both of you with puckered lips, messy hair, and your boyfriend’s whole face covered in lipstick marks.

The PR team was freaking out. He had a great laugh while saving the pic.

Liked by @crowrasu_tabito and 4.3 million others

Isagi Yoichi—loser in love

He did it. He scored the last goal. His team won.

The fans erupted from the benches. Screams, cries, and sobs filled the stadium as the adrenaline flowed through the air.

You were there. Cheering from the first row, tightly gripping the bar before your eyes met his.

And then, as always, you opened your arms waiting for him.

Isagi sprinted across the field, ignoring his teammates’ shouts only to get to you.

It was perfect.

You two were about to be the highlight of the match again. Fans were already hearing the edits with Taylor Swift’s lyrics.

“Where’s the trophy? He just comes runnin’ over to me~”

Sweat clung to your boyfriend’s forehead, hair resembling a bird’s nest but that sweet smile of his was more radiant than ever…

…until he tripped.

He was almost there. Just a few more meters but after the game his shoelaces must have loosened up a bit, causing him to fall face flat into the grass.

Fans were about to erupt again but they stopped midway. You laughed out loud. He stayed there for a good minute before looking up, flustered and grinning.

Isagi simply proved he was in love again—no matter how much embarrassment he just put himself through national TV.

Michael Kaiser—silent or silenced

Your boyfriend had some unhinged fans—the kind who would literally do anything just to see him in person.

Even if it meant sneaking past security just to catch a glimpse of his blond hair and post-game sweat.

Naturally, they were documenting everything on live.

Thousands were watching. Some laughing. Others just straight-up crying at the absurdity of the situation.

What they didn’t know was that you two were mid-argument.

You, sitting cross-legged on a bench in grey sweats, probably his hoodie thrown on, while he stood in front of you, hands waving wildly in the air like some dramatic soap opera character.

They could barely guess what he was saying before one of the most iconic moments between WAGs happened.

You calmly took a sip from your water bottle, slowly pulling down your sunglasses.

Looked up at him with a death stare. That shut him up for good.

It was a rather simple moment but the fans ate it up, especially after a few seconds of you saying something to him before he immediately grabbed your face and kissed you for what seemed like an eternity.

Safe to say, the next day the media was filled with edits of you and he couldn’t help but drop a like for every single one of them.

Nijiro Nanase—personal experience

Your boyfriend was someone who deeply cherished his fans despite his busy schedules—after all, as he often said, they always greeted him with such sweet smiles so how could he not stop for a minute and talk?

Above all, children cutely waving and waiting for him in the crowds made him the weakest.

One of the most well-known stories about his friendliness was posted by a fan of PXG, sharing how they’ve met Nanase in a restaurant near the stadium he played in just a few hours ago.

Turns out the fan was with his 4-year -old daughter at the time (also big fan btw) who easily recognized him before bravely going up to the player with a toothy grin, asking if he would like to take a picture with her.

They wrote how Nanase’s face immediately lit up at the request, granting her wish as well as giving the child some free candy from his bag.

Melting at the sight, your boyfriend—with permission of course—immediately brought her over to your table to show you his new best friend, squishing her cheeks in the process. You two played with her for a long time before waving the little girl goodbye.

1,9 million likes and reposted by @nanana_jiro

Reo Mikage—caught comments

He loved to compliment you day and night without fail, be it in public or private, Reo would always shower you in sweet words that were truly meant from the bottom of his heart.

Sure, he had his official account for media and fans—but he wasn’t super active on it, only following his teammates and you, making it clear that he was taken.

Yet the fans never really saw him liking your posts or interacting much, leaving them to assume he was just more of a private guy.

That was until someone found his other account with a definitely not suspicious name, and the comments that were left on each of your posts—some containing a bunch of hearts while others simply praised you.

He knew he got exposed when the account suddenly gained a few thousand new followers, and how every single compliment he ever left on your photos were now top comments.

Guess, he needs to think of a new username cause @oreo_milkshake has been exposed.

2,2 million new followers and a new story posted by:

@m_reo: whoever exposed me watch out…im coming for you :)

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #hiori x reader #tabito karasu x reader #reader x isagi yoichi #michael kaiser x reader #nijiro nanase x reader #mikage reo x reader #bllk hiori yo #bllk karasu #bllk michael kaiser #bllk nanase nijiro #bllk reo mikage #bllk isagi yoichi

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jerryandersonsdaughterinlaw · 2 days ago

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soft abby anderson blurb ❀ sweet gf!abby fluff

babying abby and she babies you back; wc: 2.1k

it’s a quiet afternoon. the kind where time feels syrupy and slow, and the sun pours in like warm honey across the living room floor. abby’s sunk into the couch with a book open in her lap, one arm lazily resting along the back cushion. she’s not really reading anymore, just scanning the same sentence over and over, mind somewhere softer. her hair’s still damp from a shower and tucked behind her ears.

from the kitchen, i pad in barefoot, eyes bright with something mischievous. i don’t say anything— just lean over the back of the couch and watch abby from above. i bite my lip, trying not to smile too obviously. without warning, i climb over the back of the couch and drop myself right into her lap.

“jesus—” abby grunts, the book flopping shut against her chest as i straddle her thighs.

“shh,” i grin, already cupping abby’s face in both hands. “you’re too cute when you’re caught off guard.”

abby’s brows lift, trying to fight the tiny smile threatening to curl her lips.

“you,” i say, squishing abby’s cheeks together between my palms, ignoring the half hearted protest, “are the most beautiful girl in the whole world. prettiest little face i’ve ever seen.”

abby groans, already turning red. her hands go to my waist instinctively, but she doesn’t try to move me off. instead she just sighs and glances off to the side, like she’s trying to look anywhere except my face.

which, of course, just makes me lean in closer. i squish abby’s cheeks together with both hands, making her lips pucker slightly, nose wrinkled. “look at this sweet face,” i say, with over the top saccharine. “my big, strong girl. you been working so hard, huh?”

“babe,” she mutters, cheeks still squished. her ears go pink immediately. she tries to roll her eyes and huffs a quiet “oh my god…” under her breath, but she doesn’t pull away. her arms eventually settle around me like muscle memory, holding me there.

“my strong, grumpy girl. look at you, you big soft thing,” i coo in a ridiculous sing song voice, pressing a kiss to her nose. “prettiest pout i’ve ever seen.”

abby groans. “stop—”

i lean in with a mock serious pout, “who’s my baby?”

abby groans, but she’s blushing even harder now. she buries her face in my neck to hide, voice muffled. “you’re so annoying,” she mumbles, though her thumbs are stroking my hips in slow circles, and she’s not pushing me away.

i pepper her face with little kisses: her cheeks, her nose, the corner of her mouth. i trail my hands through her damp hair, brushing it back gently. when i kiss her nose, abby tips her head back against the couch cushion, closes her eyes, and lets out the softest little laugh— one of those rare ones, low and reluctant but real.

eventually she opens her eyes again, still all pink and embarrassed, and murmurs: “you’re so lucky i love you.”

“oh, i know i am,” i whisper proudly, hugging her close. “but more importantly… i think you might secretly love being babied. just a little bit.”

“take that back.”

“nope.”

i start tracing the freckles on abby’s face with one finger, gently mapping a constellation along her cheekbone and across her nose. “all the stars that lead me home,” i say softly, voice dipping from playful to affectionate.

abby swallows, visibly affected. her hands flex against my waist, and she finally looks me in the eye. “you’re gonna make me kiss you,” she murmurs, voice low.

i grin. “isn’t that the point?”

abby leans up and does exactly that— slow and deliberate, like a quiet way of saying thanks for loving me like this, even when I don’t know what to do with it. her hands slide up my back like she’s trying to memorize the shape, and when we part, her breath is warm against my lips.

“still think i’m annoying?” i whisper.

abby rests her forehead against mine and mumbles, “very. but you’re mine.”

her hand rises to my face, thumb brushing the curve of my jaw, and she baby talks back just once, under her breath, “pretty little menace.”

i grin like it’s the highest praise in the world and promptly melt into her arms.

we stay like that for a moment, warm and tangled, laughter fading into quiet. abby’s arms wrap fully around me, pulling me in until there’s not an inch of space left between us. her breath slows. shoulders relax. in a rare, quiet moment of surrender, she murmurs, barely above a whisper, “i like when you do this.”

i pull back just enough to see her face. “yeah?”

abby nods once, sheepish. “i don’t always know how to ask. but i like it. when you… let me be soft like that.”

my smile turns tender, and i brush my thumb over her cheekbone.“you don’t have to ask,” i whisper. “i’ll always come sit in your lap and tell you how pretty and strong and kissable you are.”

abby scoffs under her breath, but her smile finally gives in, wide and youthful.

i nuzzle in, trailing my finger along the freckles on her shoulder like i’m connecting them. “you’re my favorite person in the whole world,” i murmur. “even when you’re broody.”

abby’s hands tighten slightly around my waist, grounding us both.“you’re mine too,” she says, low and honest.

i stay curled in her lap, arms looped loosely around her neck, foreheads touching, breath shared between us.

abby’s hands trace gentle lines up and down my sides, thumbs smoothing over cotton. she’s calmed now, even as i playfully press kisses to her cheeks and chin like it’s my favorite game.

“you’re so spoiled,” she murmurs eventually, voice fond.

“only by you,” i say with a grin, lips brushing her jaw. “and i plan on staying that way.”

abby just hums. after a moment, she shifts— strong arms wrapping tighter around my waist as she leans back into the cushions and brings me down with her, until we’re chest to chest. i let out a little squeak, surprised, but she holds me firm, tucking my head right beneath her chin.

“you wanna be babied so bad?” abby mutters, her lips near my temple. “fine. my turn.”

and then she starts to rock me. slow, steady, like a gentle tide. one hand cradles the back of my head. the other strokes down my spine. she starts murmuring soft little nothings— just a hum of affection, “got you,” and “you’re safe,” and “mine.”

i go still, breath catching slightly, and melt into her. she shifts again, just enough to brush her nose against my cheek and press a feather light kiss there. then another. her lips move to my brow, my temple, my jaw.

“such a handful,” she whispers, her voice like warm honey. “always crawling all over me. what would i do without you?”

i don’t answer— just tuck in tighter, fingers curled in the front of Abby’s shirt, my smile hidden against her chest.

“you need anything?” abby murmurs, still rocking me. “water? nap? emotional validation?”

i laugh— a soft, breathy little huff and whisper, “just you.”

she holds me closer, presses another kiss to my temple. and in that quiet, grounded way of hers, she whispers, “you’ve got me, baby girl.”

“well then how about all three?” i respond softly, smiling up at her as my heart aches in my chest.

a slow exhale puffs from abby’s nose, somewhere between amusement and defeat. she kisses my hair and pulls back just enough to sit upright. “alright. water first, then i’m tucking you in, and once i’ve got you swaddled like a burrito, i’ll tell you every reason i adore you till you pass out. sound good?”

“perfect,” i murmur, already melting into the couch cushions.

abby stood with a groan, stretching her arms overhead before padding off to the kitchen. i heard the soft rattle of the tap, the clink of glass. when she returned, she handed over the water with a brow raised. “drink, no half assing hydration.”

i took it with both hands and pouted dramatically. “not even a sip and snuggle combo?”

“nope,” abby said, sitting beside me again and watching like a hawk. “finish it, then i’ll spoon you like your life depends on it.”

i rolled my eyes but drank, grumbling the entire time.

once the glass was empty, she plucked it from my hands, set it aside, and gathered me back up into her arms. she lifted me easily, carrying me down the hall.

“my strong girl,” i whispered sleepily, arms looped around her neck.

“my dramatic girl,” abby shot back.

the bedroom was dim, warm with late golden light, curtains drawn just enough to cast soft shapes across the bed. abby eased me down onto the mattress, smoothing the blanket over me, tucking it snug under my arms.

“there,” she said, gently patting the bundle she’d made. “perfectly swaddled.”

i smiled, eyes fluttering half shut. “you gonna talk me to sleep now?”

abby climbed in beside me and pulled me in close, one arm beneath my head, the other wrapping around my waist. “you’re the best part of my day,” she said simply.

i let out a slow breath.

“you’re not too much. not ever.”

a small sound left my throat, the kind that’s part exhale, part relief.

“you’re soft, and smart, and so damn easy to love.” her hand moved in slow strokes down my back, under the blanket. “you’re funny even when you’re mad. you make me better.”

i blinked up at her, “don’t stop talking…”

abby kissed my forehead, slow and sure. “you’re all i want. you make this place feel like something worth coming home to. you hum when you brush your teeth, and i think that might be the cutest sound on earth.”

a laugh escapes my lips, and i tuck myself in tighter, head under abby’s chin, hand pressed between us like i was holding her words to my chest.

she kept going, voice quieter now, until the words were more breath than sound, stitched into the steady rhythm of my heart.

i nearly fell asleep like that. swaddled, safe, and full of love I didn’t have to ask twice for. the bedroom was dim now, the amber light from the hallway casting soft shapes across the floorboards. my fingers idly traced slow circles against abby’s side. i whispered, so faintly it might’ve been part of a dream, “can you sing to me?”

abby froze for half a breath, caught off guard. “you want me to sing?”

“just something soft,” i murmured, pressing my nose into her collarbone. “anything you remember. please…?” i whispered, gently tugging at her hand. there was no teasing in my voice. just a kind of raw openness abby could never say no to.

she let out a quiet sigh and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “alright. but you can’t laugh.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

abby took a breath, steadying herself. she started to hum a melody, something old and warm. she always picked an old folk tune or a lullaby from her childhood. her voice was low and steady, like a warm breeze through tall grass, the hush of a late summer evening on the porch. the kind of voice meant to anchor you to earth.

as i melted into her arms, cheek resting over her heart, she murmured the words against my temple, slow and gentle:

“lay your head down, darling, the sky’s gone soft and blue…

there’s nothing left to chase now, i’ve got you.”

i went still. then i shifted, just barely— tucking myself tighter under abby’s arm, like the sound alone was pulling me closer. my breath slowed, my hand curled tighter in her shirt, and the weight of trust in that moment was too precious to let pass in silence.

abby kept going, the next verse even quieter:

her fingers brushed down my spine, slow and rhythmic. with each verse, my breathing grew softer, my body loosening like a ribbon unraveling. i sighed against her chest, half asleep but still clinging to the sound of her voice.

“and i’ll keep the watch, darling, i’ll be right here…

you don’t have to say it, i already know.”

by the time abby finished the song, i had stopped tracing circles. my hand now simply rested on her ribs, rising and falling gently with my breath. and though i didn’t respond with words, i gave the faintest press of a kiss to her sternum— a thank you too soft to speak.

abby let the silence settle around us like a quilt, her hand still stroking my back in time with my heartbeat. “goodnight, baby,” she whispered, barely more than breath.

━━━━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━━━━━

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librarygarten · 6 hours ago

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Saja Boys x Social Media Manager! Reader

The idea that these five somehow researched K-Pop and modern idol culture well enough to pull off their plan is hilarious. Jinu thinks "Save the Date" means an actual date, but understands how to manage an online fan club? I don't think so.

Jinu had come to an unfortunate realization… he was old. All of the Saja Boys were, really. Centuries in the demon realm were bound to make them a little out of touch with the times. Still, humans were predictable. They liked the same things over and over and over again. Heart throbs, cutesy guys, and the “perfect boyfriend”. All stereotypes they would use to bring the hunters to their knees and destroy the Honmoon. So why was social media so different!?

Jinu had studied the formulas, the algorithms, the statistics. It should have been easy to make a few posts about Saja Boys and leave the rest to sort itself out. But it wasn’t. He had even resorted to giving Romance control of their socials for a few hours before realizing what a horrible idea that was.

Which is what brought them to your office; a tiny little cubicle in an already cramped building. You were apparently some type of professional social media manager. The fact humans could be so obsessed with those silly accounts to need professionals to manage them was a ridiculous concept, but here they were, sitting in folding chairs that were honestly a little too small, finishing up the paper work to hire you to take control of the Saja Boys socials.

“That should about wrap things up.” You scan over the document one last time, noting the various members' names, the platforms, the follower numbers. You had to respect the hustle, at the very least. These guys only had one song out and they were milking it for all the publicity they could. They didn’t even have a manager as far as you could tell.

“Alright, then,” you open your phone and begin scrolling through your notes. “Based on how hard it was to find literally any information about you, I’m going to assume you’ve all already deleted any previous socials you had? Because stuff you said ten years ago can and will be dug up and used to cancel you if someone finds a reason to.”

“Oh, we didn’t have social media before. We should be good on that front,” Jinu smiles. That, you could believe. The posts on the Saja Boys official account were all… pretty dry. They read like something your grandpa would post, not the announcements for a hip new boy band's public appearances.

“Great. Starting from scratch,” you swipe through your phone some more, pulling up the pages you had prepared. “I’m gonna get each of you set up with your own accounts. People love it when they think famous people interact with them online. I assume you are all going for the obvious K-Pop stereotypes for mass appeal?”

“What?” Jinu looks a bit taken aback. The other four share looks of concern.

“You know, the common types of K-Pop idols that fans like?” You explain.

Five blank faces look back at you (well, four blank faces and one mass of bangs). You sigh.

“Perfect boyfriend, edgy guy, romantic, fan service,” you point to each Saja in turn, “And that dude’s literally named Baby. Either you guys are marketing geniuses or somehow fumbled your way into becoming the perfect boy band archetypes.”

There is a long pause.

You look at Jinu. Jinu looks at Romance. Romance looks at Abby. Abby looks at Mystery. Mystery just kind of sits there. Baby side-eyes you.

You are beginning to question if you should have taken this contract.

It’s Romance that saves you all.

“Exactly!” He smirks as he leans closer to you, resting his elbows on your desk. “My, aren’t you perceptive~.”

“That’s literally my job,” you say, pushing down the urge to gag. If he was going to be this insufferable the whole time you worked with the group, you might not be able to stop yourself from punching him.

“Glad to see we hired a professional,” Abby stretches as he speaks, the buttons of his frankly hideous Hawaiian shirt threatening to pop off. You wince, not looking up. Professional was a generous term. You had never worked with anyone even close to this famous. It was mostly businesses wanting to advertise or misguided twenty-somethings convinced they were going to become famous influencers. Why the Saja Boys had decided to use your services instead of a more well-known social media manager with experience in K-Pop idols was beyond you. Sure, you were significantly cheaper, but they should have been able to afford someone better, even with just the profits from Soda Pop.

“Yeah, sure,” you keep your eyes on your screen. If you were paying attention to him, you would see Abby visibly deflate ever so slightly.

“So sorry about them,” Jinu chuckles nervously and grabs Romance and Abby by the back of their necks, trying to force them into an apologetic bow. Unfortunately, because they're sitting down, he actually just ends up smashing their faces against their knees. “They’re not usually this…”

“Weird?” You finish the sentence for him. Baby scoffs. Or maybe it was a laugh. You can’t really tell. “It’s fine. I’ve dealt with worse. Now can we get to actually designing your accounts?”

“Of course!” Jinu releases Abby and Romance, who shoot him dirty looks before resuming their usual photogenic expressions.

Setting up their accounts was more trouble than it should have been. Apparently, none of them had phones. Or computers. Or internet access. None of them seemed to have any hobbies or interests you could put in their bios, and there was an uncomfortably long silence when you asked for their ages. Thankfully, making their fan club page was easy. A few pictures of the boys, a new color scheme, and a couple rephrased posts were all it took to make it match the aesthetic they were going for. Over the next week, you watched as the follower numbers steadily climbed, from a few thousand to over 50 million.

Then the Idol Awards happened.

“You should have led with the demon bit,” is the first thing you say when you see the Saja Boys again. Three of them were huddled in your office with the hoods of their jackets pulled low over their faces.

“We should have… what?” Romance furrows his eyebrows. He hasn't changed much from how he looked last week, bright pink locks sticking out from under his hood at odd angles. You're unsure how well his jacket will hide him from the public.

“I get the whole scheme was to get fans with Soda Pop, but I'm pretty sure that plan would have taken less time if you just used Your Idol right off the bat,” you explain as you scroll through #sajaboys posts on your phone.

“You're taking the whole demon thing surprisingly well,” Mystery hums. His bangs still hang over half his face, but he's at least changed his hair from greyish-purple to black.

“What can I say, I'm a professional,” you grin.

“Why did you want to meet again? We're not exactly trying to draw attention at the moment,” Baby grimaces. His hair is also black now, and his oversized sweater is nowhere to be seen. His entire body posture had also changed. Instead of kicking his feet back and forth like a child, his sneakers were firmly planted on the floor, elbows resting on his thighs. He seemed more comfortable, you thought. This look suited him better.

“Why not?” You tip your head to the side, confused.

“Did you miss the part where we tried to feed a stadium's worth of people to a demon lord last week?” Baby scoffs.

“I did not. Nor did your fans,” you smile, “The concert is still trending across most social media platforms.”

“Wait, we're trending?” Romance gasps. “I thought the hunters made up some story about us being a fake band they had pretended to fight for their ‘new single’.”

“They did. And most people believe it,” you chuckle. Hunr/x’s social team had gone above and beyond doing damage control after their public breakup and reunion. According to them, the Saja Boys had been an industry plant for the Huntr/x girls to have fake beef with while Rumi’s voice recovered. You would probably believe it, too, if you hadn't been managing the Saja Boys’ socials. Even in your limited time with them, you had noticed more than a few oddities. They were kind of garbage at pretending to be human for extended periods of time, if you were being honest. You’re shocked you didn’t figure it out earlier.

“Then why are people still talking about us? We passed three trash cans full of our merch on the way here,” Baby raises an eyebrow and jabs his thumb over his shoulder to emphasize the point.

“Well, to put it bluntly, people thought your performance was hot,” you try to say with a straight face. You're glad Abby wasn't here to hear it. He didn't need a bigger ego.

“Hot!? We were trying to-!”

“Shhh!” Baby shushes Romance, then raises his head to glance over the walls of your cubicle. “Not so loud!”

“I am well aware of the circumstances,” you sigh, then turn your computer screen around to show them. “Here, just take a look at some of these posts. You'll understand.”

“‘That Saja Boys concert was so good I gave them a standing… ovulation’...?” Mystery reads the post off your screen, confused. “Do they mean ovation?”

“No,” you shake your head. The small bit of Mystery's face you can see turns bright pink. Baby leans over the desk to get a better look.

“‘His name may be Baby but I think Daddy suits him better’?” Baby reads the post with furrowed brows, slightly pausing between each word as if he's afraid to keep going. “What the hell is this?”

“Your fans. The entire internet is full of posts like these,” you explain, turning the screen back to its proper position. You read a few more posts “‘I'll let Abby be my sanctuary any day’, ‘Why are Baby's fingers so long all of a sudden. Not that I'm complaining’, and… actually I don't think I can legally read this last one out loud but you get the point.”

“We’re popular. So what,” Baby frowns. “We’re not the Saja Boys. That was never real.”

“Yes. You also never paid me,” you tap the contract on your desk with the tip of your pen, particularly the part where they agreed to pay you. It wasn’t a lot, but it would have paid the bills for a while. “So I have a vested interest in making sure you stay popular long enough to fulfill that obligation.”

“We’re not very liquid right now,” Mystery grimaces. You briefly wonder where they were staying. If they were from hell or wherever demons came from, you doubt they had a real place to live. Perhaps they pulled some demon magic shenanigans to get an apartment?

“Yeah,” Romance scans over the contract. He hadn’t actually bothered to read it last time. “Jinu took care of all that stuff.”

“And where is he?” You ask. You had been able to find the three demons before you through a combination of social media stalking, favors from friends, and sheer determination, but Jinu and Abby seemed to have disappeared completely after their concert the night of the Idol Awards.

“Pretty sure he gave his soul to that hunter,” Baby scoffs. He seemed personally offended.

You bury your face in your hands. If you wanted to get paid, you had some phone calls to make.

263 notes · View notes

diklvr1981 · 1 day ago

Text

Raymond, the 14 yr. old boy who lives with Jerry and Joseph wanted a massage for his 15th birthday.

Joseph said to give him the works, with all the extras. I looked around for Ryan and Eddie and they were

nowhere to be found. My other boys were gone, too. Raymond was a bit too young. But when I thought

about it, Alex was 16 when we got together. (Even tho he said he was 18). What's one year less.? He's not

been a virgin for about 20 months. So I decided not to think about his age and just take care of his body.

While kneading, rubbing, and massaging Raymond's nude partially developed upper body, his uncut cock

became erect. It made my big thick 10" grow, too. He spread his legs open as I began to massage his

abdomen, watching his 6 to 6+1/2" thick uncut throb. It got extra thick at the base, as I caressed his 2" wide

fuzzy treasure trail until my hands were massaging all around the base of his extra thick tool as his 🍄‍🟫 began

to leak precumm from its cumm slit. My cock was rock-hard and not only was it throbbing against his 🍒

& taint, but my BIG THICK 10" COCK was pre💦💦ing as well. Raymond kept reaching for his cock to

stroke it so he could cumm, as he said, "I need to shoot my load." But, I continually pushed his hand away.

So, I did what I would do for any other client ... I sucked his cock. He shot 2 loads within 5 or 6 minutes as I

sucked and swallowed his young barely 15 yr.old cock, swallowing at the same time, as Raymond begged

me not to stop sucking his cock. By that point, I had no intention of stopping. I wanted to taste even more

of Raymond's sweetened, protein-rich ejaculate. So I continued sucking his cock until he shot 2 additional

back-to-back delicious loads of his fresh ejaculate, as I sucked every💧out. He then jumped off the table

and got on his knees and sucked my throbbing and precumming cock, almost DT it 🍒 deep. I got sooo

excited, I blew my huge load inside his mouth. At first, he choked but then swallowed until my cock

finished filling his belly. My 1 load equal to his 4 loads !!

I then continued massaging his thighs and legs. As I asked him to roll over, he got down off the massage

table and said he would be more comfortable laying on my bed. Before I could say anything, he was on all

fours with his legs spread apart on my king-sized bed. I caught a glimpse of his pretty pink 🍥 pucker and

decided to give him his full nude birthday present right where he was. I climbed on the bed behind him and

between his legs, rubbed and massaged his cute white buttcheeks while also spreading them apart as I

admired his pretty pink, as my cock hardened again. I spit on his sphincter and watched his pucker twitch.

It got me very horny and excited as I massaged his sphincter with my thumbs. As I put a finger inside, Ray

began moaning. So, I began massaging his butthole w my finger, stretching it at the same time. Then I dove

My 👅 deep inside as Ray moaned and s quealed like a little girl, begging me to EAT HIS HOLE GOOD.

After voracious eating his 🍑🕳, I slowed down, and slowly and passionately 👅-fucked his hole as if I was making love to his 🕳.

I also stroked his cock and sucked his taint and 🍒. Then I had Raymond lay face down with his body flat, as I mounted his butt and popped his sphincter

with my HUGE 🍄‍🟫 HEAD. IN+out, IN+out ... I slowly popped his butt muscle as he moaned and begged me to go faster and deeper.

In a few minutes, I pushed my cockshaft in deeper as I banged my 🍄‍🟫 against his prostate, every other time

hitting it really hard, as Ray moaned louder and louder until eventually, I was fucking his hole, 🍒 deep.

I could believe my ears when Raymong begged me, "PLEASE FUCK ME HARDER AND DEEPER !"

Are you sure, Ray?, I asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I can take all 10 inches."

So I proceeded to fuck him from behind, then in the spooning position, then I had him ride me, and flat

his back with his legs up in the air and spread out as I fucked him until I exploded deep inside his hungry 🕳.

💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦

💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💧💧💧

Before I finished cumming inside, I sucked his cock as hard as I could swallowing 3

large, sweet-tasting, fresh, protein-rich nutritious and delicious loads of his cum

💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦

I’m embracing the otterness

2K notes · View notes

leriexoxo · 23 hours ago

Text

Just Curious 💦

Bestfriend!Jeongin x Reader

Tags: best friends-to-lovers tension, explicit sexual content, innocence kink, exhibition/voyeur kink, soft dom!Jeongin, handjob, blowjob, oral sex (f,m receiving) fingering, tit play.

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: You and Jeongin have been best friends for years—comfortable, close, flirty in the way that doesn’t mean anything… until it does. One late-night conversation turns into a quiet confession: you’ve never really seen a dick up close. And Jeongin, sweet and curious and clearly struggling to keep his thoughts clean around you lately, agrees to let you look. Just look. But one glance turns into a touch. A touch becomes a slow, experimental stroke. And before either of you can think—you’re on your knees, and he’s moaning your name for the very first time.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Jeongin’s room was always your favorite.

Not because it was particularly neat, or big, or even that quiet, but because it smelled like him. Faint body spray, fabric softener, warmth. Like vanilla and skin. Like home.

You were curled up beside him now, on his bed, legs tangled under a too-warm blanket. A rerun of something dumb flickered on his laptop at the foot of the bed, the glow casting soft shadows on his jaw. You weren’t watching.

You couldn’t, not really, not with the question sitting in your throat.

It started as a joke. Kind of.

“I’ve never really, like… seen one,” you’d mumbled, picking at the hem of your shorts. “Not up close.”

Jeongin looked over. His face didn’t twist in disgust or surprise—he just blinked, slow, curious. Like he was trying to figure out where the conversation was headed.

“You’ve never…?” he echoed, propping himself up on one elbow. “Even with your ex?”

You shook your head, cheeks warm. “I always freaked out before it got that far. I don’t know—it’s not like I’m scared, I just—” You bit your lip. “I think I just wanted to feel safe. And I never did.”

He was quiet a moment, just watching you. His voice was soft when he spoke again. “But you feel safe with me?”

You nodded. Of course you did. Jeongin was Jeongin. Gentle, steady, sweet. He never looked at you like you were a problem. Never made you feel like you had to be more than you were.

You took a breath. “Can I… see yours?”

His lips parted.

A blink. Then another.

You felt your stomach turn over—not from fear, but from something deeper, slower, heavier. He hadn’t even said yes, but you were already imagining it. Already imagining him.

“You’re serious?” he asked.

“Just to see,” you whispered. “Not to do anything. I just—I don’t know. I’m curious. You’re my best friend, and you’ve had sex, and I trust you. And I know it’s kind of weird but…”

His hand came up to scratch the back of his neck. He was flushed, pink to the tips of his ears, but his voice was steady.

“I mean… if it’s you, it shouldn’t be weird.”

You looked at him then. Really looked. His hoodie had slipped a little off his shoulder. His hair was messy from the pillow. He was nervous—but not resisting.

And something in his sweatpants had twitched.

Oh.

Jeongin noticed where your eyes went and quickly adjusted the blanket over his lap, clearing his throat. “I, uh. You kinda asking me that got me—”

“It’s okay,” you said, surprised at your own calm. You were warm all over, but you didn’t want to stop. “It makes sense.”

“…You still wanna see?”

Your heart thudded.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

He sat up slowly, back against the headboard, looking at you like he was waiting for you to change your mind. When you didn’t, he reached under the blanket. You watched his hands move, untying the drawstring, pushing the waistband down—And then he pulled it out.

Your breath caught.

It was… God, it was hard already. Pretty, somehow. Long, flushed at the tip, twitching slightly in his grip.

You stared. Blinked. Swallowed.

“You okay?” Jeongin asked.

You nodded too quickly. “Yeah. I just. I didn’t think I’d be this…”

“Curious?” he offered, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

You looked up at him, heart in your throat. “Can I… touch it?”

Jeongin’s breath hitched.

His hand fell away, and yours took its place.

His skin was hot. Smooth. Heavy in your palm. The weight of him made your thighs clench.

He let out the softest sound—more of a sigh, but when you curled your fingers gently around him, it deepened. A low hum of want.

Your thumb brushed over the tip and his hips jerked.

“Shit,” he whispered. “Okay. You’re really—fuck. You’re gonna kill me.”

You giggled, half-terrified, half-entranced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he groaned. “Just—do that again.”

You did. And this time he dropped his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his jaw clenched tight.

He looked wrecked. And you had barely even touched him.

His hand found your thigh under the blanket, resting there—hot and shaking.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked quietly.

He looked down at you, eyes dark, lips parted.

“No,” he said. “I want you to keep going.”

You didn’t stop. Yet you hadn’t expected it to feel like this.

Not just the weight in your hand—hot, heavy, pulsing with quiet need—but the way it changed him. Jeongin, your Jeongin, who always laughed with his whole chest and scolded you for stealing fries off his plate… was now struggling to breathe normally. Because of you. Because your hand was stroking slowly along the length of him, unsure and deliberate.

And god, the way his head tipped back.

He wasn’t moaning—yet—but he was close. You could tell by the way he swallowed hard, jaw flexing like he was grinding the sound between his teeth. His lashes fluttered, cheeks red, chest rising just a little faster than normal.

You sat beside him, half under the blanket, palm moving tentatively. A slow glide upward. A twist at the top. The slippery heat of him stunned you a little—how soft the skin was despite how hard he felt.

Your heart was pounding.

You weren’t thinking about exes. Or what this might mean in the morning. You were thinking about how Jeongin looked right now—hips twitching slightly, hand fisting in the sheets, breath stuttering every time you found a rhythm he liked.

“This okay?” you asked quietly, eyes on him.

He nodded, biting his lip.

“Feels good?”

“…Yeah.”

It came out strangled. Like he was holding back.

That made something in you ache.

You tightened your grip just a little, thumb swiping over the slit.

His stomach clenched.

“Oh, fuck—” he whispered, voice breathy and choked, and that sound—God, that sound did something to you. You didn’t realize how much you wanted to hear it again until you saw his throat work like he was ashamed of it.

You kept stroking. A little firmer now. Your fingers adjusted the angle slightly, and he twitched in your hand.

Then he gasped.

It was high and helpless and full of surprise. And it made your thighs clench.

“You keep doing that, I’m gonna embarrass myself,” he muttered, eyes barely open.

Your lips parted. “You mean come?”

He looked at you like you’d hit him.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll—fuck—I’ll actually do it.”

You tilted your head, blinking at him. Then let your thumb circle the tip again, just to watch his jaw drop. His toes curled under the blanket.

“I like when you sound like that,” you whispered, almost to yourself.

He gave you a helpless look. “I’m trying not to.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s you,” he hissed, hips twitching up once. “And I’m trying not to make it weird.”

You bit your lip, watching the precum bead up at the top again. The way his cock jerked in your hand was insane. Alive. Like it knew you. Like it was begging for more.

And you weren’t scared. You were fascinated.

You leaned in closer, just a little, eyes locked on where your hand moved. He watched you too—eyes heavy, lips parted, expression stunned.

Then you did something dangerous.

You leaned over his lap, blew softly against the flushed tip—and just watched his whole body jerk.

A strangled moan ripped out of him before he could stop it, and his hand flew to his face.

“Shit—sorry—I didn’t mean to—”

You were already smiling.

“I liked that one too.”

You didn’t ask this time, you just bent a little further down. You didn’t even let yourself think— It just happened.

One moment, your fingers were wrapped around him—slow, exploring, fascinated—and the next, your lips were hovering just above the head of his cock. Close enough to smell the faint trace of skin, salt, something earthy and male.

Your heart was pounding. But not from fear.

From want.

You leaned forward.

Your tongue flicked out—just a little, just to taste—and the moment it met his tip, hot and slick and pulsing against you, Jeongin groaned.

Like full-body groaned. Like he’d just lost a fight he didn’t know he was in.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck—don’t do that unless you’re—shit.”

But you were already doing it again.

Another lick. Slower this time. A swirl of your tongue around the head like you were trying to memorize the shape of him. And he twitched, hard, thighs tensing beneath you like a trap snapping shut.

You were trembling, but not with nerves—with hunger.

With the thrill of how good he tasted. How desperate he sounded.

So you kissed the tip once, just to be soft. Then you opened your mouth.

Jeongin’s breath punched out of him when you sank down slowly, taking him in inch by inch, mouth wet and warm around him.

“Holy shit—” His voice cracked, hand shooting out to grip the sheets—but then it found your hair instead. He didn’t yank, didn’t guide yet, just held, fingers curling at the base of your skull like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“You don’t—fuck, baby, you don’t have to—”

But you wanted to.

You wanted to know what he looked like when he fell apart. What his voice sounded like when it broke. What it meant to take the boy you trusted most and make him forget his own name.

So you sank lower.

His grip tightened.

“Oh my god—” His voice shattered.

You pulled up slowly, spit connecting your lips to his tip, and glanced up at him.

His mouth was open, eyes barely focused, skin flushed and glowing like fever. “You look so fucking pretty like that,” he whispered, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud. “Don’t stop. Please.”

You didn’t.

You took him again, deeper this time. Used your tongue, your lips, your hand stroking the base while your mouth worked the rest.

And then—you moaned. Soft, helpless, humming around his cock like it felt too good not to.

Jeongin lost it.

His hand in your hair tightened—harder this time. He tugged just slightly, gathering it into a messy ponytail, not harsh but firm.

“Oh my god, don’t do that. Don’t fucking moan like that,” he gasped. “You’re gonna make me—fuck, baby, I’m gonna lose it.”

He rocked into your mouth before he could stop himself.

His whole body was trembling. One hand fisted in your hair, the other clutching the blanket so hard his knuckles were white. His thighs were shaking beneath you. He looked ruined—sweat dampening his forehead, breath hitching every time you swallowed more.

“You’re—” he hissed, almost whining. “How are you so good at this?”

You pulled back just enough to breathe, saliva clinging to your lips, and gave him a dazed smile.

“I’ve never done it,” you whispered. “Not really.”

That broke something in him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he growled, hand tightening in your hair. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Then he gently—but unmistakably—guided your head back down.

This time he didn’t hold back.

His hips rolled, slow at first, like he was testing your limits. He fed himself into your mouth a little deeper, a little harder, and when you took it, when you let him—he groaned. Raw and broken.

It wasn’t gentle anymore. It wasn’t curiosity.

It was need.

His best friend—his—was on her knees in front of him, mouth stretched around his cock, moaning like she couldn’t get enough. He wanted to stop. Say something. Do something. But you were so fucking eager, and your mouth felt like heaven, and—

“Fuck, baby,” he gasped, voice shaking. “You keep going like that and I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come in your mouth, and I won’t be able to stop. Is that—shit—is that okay?”

You could feel it in the way his thighs trembled. In the way his hand clenched and unclenched in your hair.

In the way his voice had broken completely, muttering “fuck” and “baby” and your name over and over like it was a prayer—like he couldn’t believe this was real.

“Shit—shit—I’m gonna—” he choked, hips twitching once, twice, every muscle drawn tight. “I’m gonna come—baby, I can’t hold it—”

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

You wanted to know what he tasted like. What he looked like when he broke. What it felt like to make your best friend lose control of himself in your mouth.

So you kept going. Let him fuck shallow thrusts against your tongue. Kept your hand moving at the base, your lips sealed tight around him. And when the first pulse hit your tongue—Jeongin moaned.

Loud. Guttural. Like it had been torn from the base of his spine.

“Fuck—” His whole body shuddered.

He came hard. Warm, salty, thick across your tongue—his breath stalling, his thighs flexing, head thrown back against the pillow. He was panting like he’d just run a marathon.

And you swallowed.

Slowly.

While holding eye contact.

His eyes flew open.

You watched him watch you, licking your lips when you were done, cheek flushed, mouth slick and wrecked.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, completely stunned.

Then he grabbed you. Fisted your hair, pulled you up over him, lips crashing into yours with so much heat you gasped against his mouth. His hands were everywhere—your jaw, your waist, your back—gripping like he couldn’t get close enough.

It was your first kiss with your bestfriend. And it felt like it had been waiting years.

Desperate. Sloppy. Tongue and spit and soft little moans.

When he pulled back just barely, eyes dazed, voice hoarse, he asked “Where the fuck did you learn to do that?”

You grinned, still flushed, panting.

“I’ve been watching a lot of porn lately.”

Jeongin froze.

Then he groaned and yanked you into another kiss, deeper this time, pulling you fully into his lap.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered against your lips. “You’re really gonna end me.”

You giggled, rolling your hips slightly, drunk on the power of it.

But then he sobered—just a little. Pulled back to look at you, really look at you.

“I want to touch you,” he whispered. “Can I?”

You didn’t answer.

Instead, you sat up just enough to pull your shirt over your head, baring your chest with slow, quiet confidence. No words. No hesitation.

Then you took his hand and placed it on your bare tits.

Jeongin’s mouth parted in a silent gasp.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. His fingers twitched, then molded around the soft weight in his palm. He looked up at you like he didn’t know where to start, like he was about to lose his mind all over again. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

He cupped you gently at first, thumbing your nipple, then rolling it softly until you whimpered. His other hand joined in, squeezing, fondling, exploring like he’d been waiting forever.

And honestly? He had.

You leaned back slightly to give him room, and he took it—mouth lowering, tongue licking a stripe across your chest before closing around your nipple.

Your hips jerked.

“Oh—Jeongin…”

He groaned against your skin.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, tongue circling, teeth grazing just a little. “I’ve dreamed about this. So many fucking times.”

You tugged on his hair, breath ragged. “Then don’t stop.”

Jeongin’s lips were still warm from your nipple, glossy from his mouth. His hands were roaming now—slow and reverent—like he was still trying to convince himself this wasn’t a dream.

“Lay down for me,” he murmured, voice ragged.

You obeyed, shifting back onto the bed, bare-chested and flushed, heart hammering in your throat. He crawled after you, settling between your thighs like it was where he belonged.

His hands hovered at the waistband of your shorts. He looked up.

“Can I?”

You nodded, barely breathing. “Please.”

He exhaled like you’d given him a gift. His fingers hooked into the fabric, pulling them down with a kind of reverent care. When they reached your knees, he tugged them off fully—eyes fixed on the soft cotton of your panties, the growing dark spot between your legs.

Jeongin made a sound—a sharp inhale, almost a groan.

“Fuck. You’re soaked,” he whispered, like it hurt to say. “That was all from…?”

“You,” you breathed.

He swallowed. “Jesus.”

His hands slid up your thighs, slow and steady, before resting over your hips. He leaned in, eyes locked on yours.

“I want to taste you.”

Your breath caught.

“You can.”

You watched him lower his head—his hands spreading your thighs open gently, lips brushing the inside of your knee, your thigh, everywhere but where you needed him.

And then—finally—his mouth pressed to the damp fabric of your panties.

You gasped.

His nose nuzzled softly, lips mouthing against the soaked cotton. “You smell so fucking good,” he murmured, hot breath making you twitch. “I’ve never wanted anything like this.”

Then, with agonizing patience, he pulled your panties aside.

And stared.

“Fuck,” he whispered, so soft you barely heard it.

Then he leaned in.

The first stroke of his tongue was slow—uncertain, experimental. You felt it like lightning, your body jerking with a strangled moan.

He pulled back instantly. “Too much?”

You shook your head, breathless. “No. Just—don’t stop.”

That was all he needed.

He went back in—licking a firm stripe from your entrance to your clit, then repeating it, tongue pressing a little harder. He was learning you. Finding what made your thighs tremble, what made your breath catch.

Then he moaned into you.

Moaned.

“God, you taste—so fucking sweet.”

You whined, hips lifting off the bed, and he grabbed your thighs, held you down. “Stay still for me, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

His mouth latched onto your clit and sucked gently, tongue flicking fast, relentless, while one hand slipped down between your legs.

When his fingers dipped inside—hot, slow, curling—you cried out.

“Jeongin—”

He looked up briefly, lips shiny, eyes blazing.

“That’s right,” he whispered. “Say my name.”

He fucked you with his fingers—deep, steady strokes, curling just right—while his mouth stayed glued to your clit, wet sounds echoing in the room, your gasps tangled with his groans.

And then you moaned. High and wrecked and desperate.

You tugged on his hair. Tight. Hips grinding into his face like instinct had taken over.

Jeongin growled into your cunt.

“Oh my god—”

He buried his face deeper, tongue flicking faster, like he couldn’t get enough.

And you were so close now—body arching, walls clenching around his fingers, thighs quivering.

“I—I’m gonna—”

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t dare.

He wanted to feel you come. Hear it. Taste it.

You broke like a wave.

Crying out his name, thighs clamping around his head, back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashed over you, hard and blinding.

He didn’t move. Didn’t stop licking. His fingers stayed deep, easing you through every aftershock until you were twitching, panting, gasping.

When he finally pulled back, his mouth was slick, chin wet, eyes dark.

He kissed your thigh once. Then looked up at you with a wild, ruined smile.

“You’re never getting rid of me now,” he whispered.

You lay there on his bed, chest still rising in slow, uneven waves, your legs limp, your skin flushed and glowing from the inside out. Jeongin hovered above your cunt, breathing hard, lips slightly swollen, fingers still curled gently around your thigh.

He looked like he’d been wrecked by prayer.

His hair was a mess. His cheeks were pink. There was a smear of your slick at the corner of his mouth.

He kissed your inner thigh again—just barely there.

Then he came up, slow, crawling up the length of your body like he was scared to startle you.

“You okay?” he whispered, brushing your hair off your forehead.

You nodded, blinking up at him. “Yeah.”

A quiet pause.

“You sure?”

Your fingers reached for his. Intertwined them gently.

“Yeah, Jeongin. I’m really okay.”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Good. I was kinda scared I…” He shook his head with a sheepish smile. “I don’t know. Took it too far.”

You smiled back, soft and sleepy. “You didn’t. It wasn’t just you.”

“I know, I just…” His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand, slow. “I didn’t think it would feel like that.”

Your heart stuttered.

“Like what?”

“Like more,” he said simply. “Like… you weren’t just touching me. You were giving me something. And I didn’t even know I wanted it until I had it.”

The room stilled, but then you pulled him down into your arms.

He tucked himself over you, one leg between yours, head resting against your shoulder like he belonged there. You played with his hair absentmindedly, letting the quiet wrap around you both like a blanket.

His voice came again, barely a whisper. “Is it weird that I feel closer to you now than I ever have?”

You shook your head. “I feel it too.”

Another pause. Then, teasing “So, uh… ‘I’ve been watching porn’?”

You snorted. “Don’t act like you haven’t.”

“I have, I just—” He lifted his head to look at you. “I didn’t think you were watching it with me in mind.”

Your cheeks flushed.

You didn’t answer.

He stared at you for a beat—then kissed your cheek. Then your jaw. Then the hollow of your throat.

Then he laid his head back down and just breathed with you.

Quiet minutes passed like that.

Eventually, you felt his arms curl tighter around you, anchoring himself to your warmth like he didn’t want to let go. His voice was sleepy when it came again.

“Promise you won’t disappear on me tomorrow?”

You turned your head, kissed the top of his.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jeongin.”

You meant it.

You both drifted off like that—skin against skin, hearts slow and quiet, a little stunned at how easily something so curious had turned into something that felt like love.

Authors note: Hellaur fine shyts!!! 🤩🤗 I’m a little mad at y’all for not showing love to my “Love diary series” 😤 but anyway lets get back on track!!! I was going through my masterlist and i realized that i don’t write Jeongin and Felix enough lol (my bad) so how do you like this one?? Obviously there’s gonna be a part 2, still writing it. 🤭

On another note, my taglist is full 😫 and i have alot of you that i’m not allowed to tag unfortunately, i dont know how to go about it. Any tips? Apparently i cant tag more than 50 🫠

Taglist: @tsunderelino @innieandsungielover @inlovewithstraykids @reignessance @jeonismm @sttnficrecs @herejusttemporary @krssliu @kenia4 @miilquetoast @thackery-blinks @leeminho-hall @suga-is-bae @butterflydemons @inejghafawifesblog @minchanlimbo @mal-lunar-28 @breakmeoff @slut4junho @deepblueocean97 @thequibbie @yaorzu-blog @imagine-all-the-imagines @just-bria @mischievousleeknow @ifyxu @melanctton @thelostprincessofasgard @binniebb @sillylittlecat1 @darkwitchoferie @m-325 @headfirstfortoro @imseungminsgf @ihrtlix @vernorica123 @hwangjoanna @swordswallower2000 @niki007 @yxna-bliss @firelordtsuki @justwonder113 @mbioooo0000 @sammhisphere @nebugalaxy @cutecucumberkimberly @chancloud8 @sunflwerstar @shxdowofdarkness @aeyla @annyeongffs @beppybeesnuggets @iamwritteninyourstars @crisle19 @stxysakura @ocean-glacierblue

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queridasocia · 1 day ago

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Personal basketball coach

*Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader

*Summary: Paige has finally convinced y/n to go to practice with her

(Guys this is my first time writing on here…sorry for any mistakes…pls be nice to me and any feedback is appreciated:))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After days of begging Paige had finally convinced you to go to the gym with her.

You, her 5’7, very feminine, very light, very pretty, very much not a basketball player girlfriend agreed to meet Paige at the gym.

At first you thought she just wanted to shoot around, have you as her cheerleader, maybe show off a little, flex and point at you while you sat pretty on the bench…

But no…apparently Paige had other ideas.

You stood on the court in shorts that you rolled up at the hips and a tank top, staring at the basketball in your hands like it was a bomb.

“This is a bad idea,” you said.

Paige grinned, already dribbling with ease beside you. “Babe,” she called out, “you said you’d meet me here and play with me’

“If I knew you meant for me to play with you I would’ve drove straight home instead.”

“Exactly why I left out some details,” she winked, bouncing the ball towards you. “Now, first lesson, find a comfortable and steady position’

‘That sounds dangerous’ you awkwardly bent your knees, holding the ball like it was about to explode. Paige walked behind you, her hands casually resting on your hips as she pressed her chest lightly to your back.

“Okay but why are you so close, I know for a fact you don’t get this close to opponents’

“I’m adjusting your form,” she said innocently, voice low in your ear. “You gotta bend your knees more. Like this.”

She nudged your legs open just a bit with her knee. “There. Now you look ready’

“I don’t feel ready,” you mumbled.

Paige laughed and leaned down to give your shoulder a light kiss

“Okay, we’re off to a good start. You in position so now let’s do some simple 2 point shooting.”

You tried, you really did. But after airballing your first attempt and nearly tripping over your own foot, Paige was wiping her tears

“Stop laughing at me,” you pouted.

She came up behind you again, slipping her arms around you from the back and putting her much bigger hands on yours

“I think you’re the cutest hooper I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re biased”

“You’re right,” she whispered, brushing a kiss just under your jaw. “But you’re still cute. Now come on, we’re doing ten more of those.”

You groaned. “I think I need a water break?”

Paige laughed. “Water break?? Babe you haven’t moved from that spot.”

She tossed you the ball and stepped back. “If you make that shot, you can have your water break”

You dribbled(barely) and went for the shot. It hit the backboard and went in.

Paige clapped so loud the sound echoed through the empty gym. She ran up, lifted you off your feet and spun you around, then kissed you breathless mid cheer

“That’s my girl,” she whispered, forehead against yours.

“Still think this is dangerous?”

“…Maybe not,” you admitted, holding onto her hoodie.

“Good. Because next, we’re working on your jump shot.”

Your smile dropped.

“Can’t we just go back to kissing?”

#paige bueckers x you #paige bueckers oneshot #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #wlw fanfic

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glubglubgurgle · 14 hours ago

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stuck bunnies

xaviermc where your vibrating egg gets stuck and only your helpful neighbor xavier could save you

pairings: xavier/unnamed afab [mc/you]

tags: smut, shameless smut, neighbors, stuck vibrators, he helps you hehe, DRY HUMPING, fingering, p and v sex, kissing, praising, jealous xavier, charlie mentioned, sex confessions, drunk in luv hehe

word count: 7k

a/n: first part to stuck vibrator series !!!!! YIPPEEEEE !! i hope u guys enjoy, no beta but i worked hard to pump this out before i leave for my tip, thanks for the excitement shown for this series! im excited to write more eheh

pings!: @rurushow @straykidslvr @mcdepressed290 @otomegamesforlife @liz9898 @cherriesinoctober @dummiebunny @cecxliia @rikissaurus @ophelia-ophelian @youkoden @zaynetism @auroranavi [IT WOULDNT LET ME TAG SOME OF U TT IDK HOW TUMBLR WORKS TT]

CROSS POSTED TO AO3

“You need to get laid, girl…” Tara said to you before taking another sip of her martini. She scanned the bar, surely looking for a proper suitor for you.

You sighed, following her gaze. “I do…but I don’t know about a one-night-stand. I want to at least know them or something.” You looked back at her and she already had her tarot cards in hand, shuffling them. “No way your tiny purse fits that…where the hell did you pull those cards out from?” You gaped at her.

“Hush. You’re looking for love, and I’m trying to help you.” Tara continued to shuffle the cards more before fully facing you. She pulled the card from the top and placed it on the bar, hovering it face down for a moment before flipping it over. She gasped.

“What? What does it say?” You panicked, looking at the random card with a large goblet being held that seemed to have water flowing out of it. Despite having had your cards read at random, multiple times, the meanings have never stuck with you.

“You like Xavier.” Tara smirked at you.

Your ears felt hot and you scowled. “What? N-no! What are you talking about?” You push her shoulder playfully. “The card does not say that.” You huffed.

“Nooo, but your face says it all whenever he talks to another girl at the academy!” She giggled, glancing back at your card. “Hm…but judging from this, I think you’ll have some good luck in the future with your silly crush…hm, it might be a little bit of a bumpy road buuut, it seems kind of positive!” She shuffled the deck again.

“You think he knows?” You asked her, chewing on your lip. It was very much true that you were into your work partner. Not only was he your partner and friend, he was even your upstairs neighbor. Xavier was everywhere, but he still wasn’t close enough for you. Although at times you thought there was the start of something, he would disappear at times and it would feel like you were back at square one. Even if you two were partners at work, he had higher strength levels and clearance than you, which meant he would be put on a lot of solo missions.

Tara snickered, pulling another card and placing it face up besides the other one. “You’re so obvious…but who knows? I have a hard time reading that guy, sometimes. He has been to more employee dinners after you got home wasted that one time…So at least we know he cares about you!” She looked at the card and then slyly smirked at you. “I think you’ll be getting luckyyy soon.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

You looked at the card, a queen-like woman sitting on a throne. You cocked your head up at her as she ordered two tequila shots.

“One more shot!” She screamed.

One became two. And then another. And then you were stumbling on your way home. You put Tara on a taxi to her place and texted her roommate that she was on her way. Since you ate a lot while drinking, and since you were a pretty good drinker, you weren’t as drunk. It was still hard to walk a straight line but it was manageable. You stopped by a convenience store on the way for a sports drink and then sat outside in the cool night air to sober up even more. Your body felt warm from the alcohol, despite your dress revealing a lot of skin.

A hand reached out to the bottle you were struggling to open. “What are you doing out here?” You hear a familiar voice ask.

You looked up after flinching at the sudden interaction. Xavier. He was wearing a gray hoodie and matching sweatpants. His fluffy hair had tufts sticking out as if he had just rolled out of bed. He easily opened the bottle before handing it back to you.

As you grabbed the drink from him with a nod of appreciation, you took a sip before answering. “I was just coming back from the bar with Tara.” You took another sip, looking away from him. Your cheeks burned as he stared down at you. The alcohol felt like it was giving you another round of being drunk, your head was spinning and your heart was racing.

He put his hand on the top of your head, turning you back to face him before letting go. Xavier looked like he was studying you. You saw his eyes roam at your outfit and you swore the tips of his ears turned pink, but you quickly brushed it off as the cold air’s doing. “You were walking home alone?” He crossed his arms, as if to judge you, and then pointed his chin upwards while looking down at you with a slight tilt.

Another sip of your drink, the cool liquid sending a small shiver up your spine as it contrasted with everything else feeling hot. “It was just me and Tara, she was a lot drunker than me so I put her in a cab…I’m fine. Just a bit wobbly.” You answered sheepishly, a small giggle bubbling out of your throat. “Was I supposed to find a guy at the bar to take me home instead?” You cocked your head at him, taking another sip. You had no idea where the sudden confidence came from, maybe the cards from earlier made you want to test the waters.

His jaw clenched slightly. “Is your phone broken?”

The question threw you off and you looked down at your lap where your phone was, confused. “N-”

“So, why didn’t you just call me?” He sighed, looking away before looking back down at you.

Another shiver, this time from his annoyed demeanor. It should have been a little upsetting, but you were quite honestly turned on. The way his blue eyes darkened when he was upset. It’s a sight you saw often when you came back from a solo-mission bruised and battered. You grasped at every shred of worry he showed, letting it feed into your hopes and delusions. Still, you couldn’t find an excuse.

He sighed again, his arms crossing and his fingers gripped at his sweatshirt, slipping it off. His shirt came up with his sweater for a second, his bare abdomen flashed you and time seemed to slow down. You couldn’t help but stare. Each crease and crevice of his muscles almost made your mouth water, but you could feel the place between your legs get a lot warmer. You quickly looked away, blushing, hoping that he didn’t see you staring since his sweater covered his face. You screwed the cap back on the bottle and placed it by your side. Then his sweater was held out in front of your face.

“Wear this. You’re shivering.” He motioned for you to take the sweater.

With a slight hesitation, you reached up to grab it from him. You couldn’t tell him that you were actually feeling really hot because of him. You thanked him before slipping it on. It smelled like it just came out of the wash and it felt really warm. You wanted to keep smelling it, but he was right in front of you. Surely he would think you’re some sort of pervert if you just sat there and sniffed it. The fit was larger than you and since he was so tall, it went past your dress even. Which wasn’t very hard considering your dress was short already. You stood up, a bit too quickly, and stumbled.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders to steady you, “Hey…you’re still drunk.” His mouth was near your ear, his voice deep and you shivered again. You hoped your lacey underwear would be able to hold in how wet you were, because the proximity was getting to you more than usual.

There was something about the Xavier in front of you that was making you more feral and needy. You were already in a drought as is. It’s been hectic at work with long hours, to the point that when you got home, you couldn’t even take care of your needs yourself. The last time you dated someone was back in college, and you were terrible at hooking up with strangers; in the sense that you chickened out before anything went further ever.

You were so extremely sexually frustrated, and you wanted to get home to take care of it before you jumped him right on the street to confess. “Th-thank you.” You said, slightly panting from feeling his breath on your neck. You hoped he passed it off as your reaction to almost falling. You straightened yourself up and he dropped his arms, standing up straighter as well. You grabbed your drink from the bench and shoved your phone into the pocket of his sweater.

The two of you started to walk towards the direction of the apartment building you both resided in.

“What was the occasion?” Xavier asked after a few moments of silence.

Since he was normally the soft-spoken type, you have always been worried about yapping his ear off. You normally waited for him to make the first conversation move, yet besides that, the silence that fell between the two of you was comfortable. You shrugged, shoving your hands into the hoodie pocket. “Nothing really, just needed a drink after those spatial anomalies made it nearly impossible to rest for two weeks.” You let out a sigh while looking up at the night sky. The city was quieter, no random car alarms being triggered, no sudden screams from surprised civilians. “I’m glad I’m not too drunk though. It’s really nice walking with you on a peaceful night like this. You must be tired too, right? I barely saw you even though we're technically partners.” You tilted your head up at him, a small smile on your lips.

He was already looking at you and your eyes met. A small blush formed on your face. The corner of his lip twitched and a chuckle escaped him. “Yeah, it’s been a few days since we last saw each other…are you sad?” A teasing smile was on his lips as he bent over slightly to meet eyes with you, still walking. “Is that why you drank?” The question was a joke, but it was the truth.

You loved being a hunter, it was all you ever dreamt about since you were young. Although there were times where you would get tired, yet whenever he was around, it would feel like you could work for longer. As cheesy as it was, he felt like sunshine. You just let out a laugh and playfully pushed his arm away, “Don’t be silly.” His arm felt firm under your touch. You’ve had to patch him up before so you weren’t too surprised, but it still gave you butterflies. You knew that under his soft fluffy exterior was a very strong figure. The heat felt strong again, on your cheeks and under your clothes.

“Hm, you’re blushing. Are you still drunk?” He asked, stopping the both of you in your tracks. His hand came up to your face, the back of it touching your forehead. “Or…are you getting sick?” His eyebrows knitted together with a concerned look.

Your eyes widened at the sudden touch as you stopped walking. You looked away from his touch and saw that you were already at the front of the apartment. “N-no! But we’re home!” You forced out a laugh, “I’ll take some medicine before I sleep, just in case.” You ducked under his arm and in through the gate of the building, quickly walking to and through the front entrance.

The elevator ride felt quiet, but it also felt way too long. He stood too close to you and you wanted him. All you could smell was him: detergent, spring, citrus…it was driving you insane. You squeezed your thighs together and looked down, letting out a sigh through pursed lips.

“Are you okay?” He put his hand on your lower back, making you jump slightly, but you hoped it wasn’t obvious.

“Yeah,” you forced a laugh. “I think the alcohol is making me really tired or something.” You lied. Then the elevator opened on your floor. Thinking you were going to say goodbye, you finally looked up at him, but he stepped out. “Huh, this isn’t your floor.”

“Yeah, but it’s yours. It’s better if you pass out inside your home than the hallway. You never know if your neighbor is a creep.” He glared at the door closest to yours.

You walked out, still confused. “Hm, I think the only people that live on this floor are that mom and her kid…and the new one! What was his name…?” You racked your brain trying to remember, suddenly dropping the question of Xavier walking you to your door. “Carl?”

“Charlie.” Xavier responded sternly. “And anyways, just because he’s a baker, doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy. I just would sleep better if I saw you enter your home, especially in this state.”

You hummed an acknowledgment, trying to not look too swayed. He was being so considerate while he was looking so domestic and hot, you wanted to pull him into your apartment and kiss him right there. Instead you managed to open your door and step inside, turning to face him again. “Thank you…for walking me home. I’ll treat you to hot pot next time! Or a drink!” You looked down and saw his sweater still on. You were going to reach under and take it off until he placed his hand atop yours.

“Don’t worry about it, just return it whenever. Sleep well. Goodnight.” He smiled at you warmly, making your heart do jumping jacks. He walked away and then stopped to face you again, “I’ll be expecting that free meal soon, though.” He smirked at you before heading to the stairs.

“Goodnight!” You yelled back, hoping none of your neighbors heard. You shut the door and leaned against it, your heart racing a thousand miles. You made a mental note of not listening to anymore of Tara’s readings, it was making you more delusional and unstable around him. But you also thought that maybe you were just extremely horny, so you took a shower to get ready for bed.

You didn’t plan on sleeping any time soon that night, you wanted to finally take care of yourself. It was your first day off and you needed to cum as soon as possible. After your steaming hot shower, you slipped on a large shirt that you normally slept in and ditched the underwear. And then you saw his sweater on your bed. Since no one was around to judge you, you brought the fabric up your nose.

Xavier.

Images of him in the sweater, removing the sweater, holding you, and saying sweet words flashed through your mind and it was making your heart race and you started feeling your clit pulse as well. You slipped on the sweater again, feeling too warm but you wanted it. You walked over to the balcony doors and opened them to feel the night breeze. You normally touched yourself with the doors open, in hopes that he could hear you. It’s been many times since you’ve done it and since there had been no signs of any knowledge of your nighttime activities, you just do it out of habit and the breeze felt good especially after sweating all night.

You walked towards your dresser drawer and cursed. The vibrator wand you normally used had actually died two weeks prior, and you’ve been meaning to buy another one. It completely slipped your mind once work picked up and now you were left with a dead wand. You groaned, sifting through the drawer until you found a small drawstring bag.

It was the gag gift that your other coworker Simone had given you for secret santa a year before. A small purple vibrating egg. It had a little rubber loop as a handle and a small remote. Despite sitting in your drawer for a few months, you clicked the on-button and the egg came to life. Nearly bouncing from the vibrations in your palm. You never used this type of toy before from fear of losing it inside of you, but you were so desperate to cum that you couldn’t be bothered to worry anymore.

You turned the lights down and got into bed, setting the egg beside you. You dragged your hand in between your legs and put your fingers in your folds. You were already wet, despite just taking a shower, you were warm and pulsing. Your fingers pressed against your clit and a hissed breath left you through gritted teeth. “Fuck…” You grabbed the egg with your free hand while your other fingers rubbed circles on your own clit. You spread your legs further, lifting your hips up a little and planted your feet on the bed. You slowly inserted the egg into your entrance, the stretch wasn’t too much despite being inactive for years, but it was rather small anyways. You tried to push it further in, inserting your fingers with a moan. And then you clenched around it, squeezing it further in you. You tugged at the loop, making sure you can still take it out before grabbing the remote.

You took a deep breath before hitting the on button. A low hum began, which felt more like a massage than anything. You were worried that it was too weak to help with your needs, but then you pressed it again and it slowly got stronger. There were ten lights on the remote, and you knew you needed the strongest mode to cure you. Your hips started twitching as you kept raising the intensity, and once you reached the maximum, your lower body got warmer. You set the remote down and started rubbing your clit in circles. Soft moans were spilling out of you, and your leg even began to shake. You adjusted his sweater on you so the neckline was up to your nose, inhaling his scent. You felt like a pervert, but there was no one to see so you couldn’t care less. The coil in your stomach grew tighter and tighter, your legs started shaking, and your breathing got heavier. To reach your orgasm faster, you thought of Xavier. You wished he was on top of you, his hands replacing yours on your heat, saying your name. “Fuck…ngh…Xavier, please!” You moaned out. It was the first time you actually moaned his name, but you were too busy to worry about him hearing you through the open balcony as you were chasing your high.

Your hips gyrated against your own hand, the vibrations ripping through you and then you finally came. It felt like the egg was going to catapult out of you with the combination of how wet you were and how tight your walls were contracting against it. You looped your thumb against the hoop and tried to yank it out as you continued to orgaasm to relieve the liquids out of you.

And then you felt a snap. You cursed and sat up, your orgasm still making its way through you and your new position made the vibrator move inside. The flimsy rubber hoop snapped off.

You were so sensitive from having just come, and you reached for the remote to turn it off. The lights that were on were suddenly off, and you had a feeling there were even more problems. You pressed the off button and nothing. It was still vibrating inside of you and the panic made it seem like it was going even harder. You laid back down and took your fingers down into your entrance, hoping you could pull it out yourself. “Fuck! Ah!” You cursed as your fingers pressed against the egg, right into your most sensitive spot. The silicone body was slippery with all your juices coated around it, and you were losing hope. Another orgasm hit you like a truck as it was pressed against your g-spot, pushing you into overstimulation mode. You knew you could come ten times in a row in this state, and you were worried that you couldn’t control it. A string of curses lift your lips with moans in between, from pleasure and agony.

Suddenly you heard a slam from upstairs, like a heavy piece of furniture fell on the ground.

You ignored it as you had bigger things to deal with. You ripped your fingers out of yourself and rolled onto your stomach, pushing your ass up into the air as you buried your face into the pillow. Your body was shaking from the multiple orgasms, but the position felt like it was a little bit less pushed against your squishy spot. You wondered if there was anyone you could call that wouldn’t send you into years of embarrassment. You wished you kept the box for the toy to see how long the battery lasted, but you knew it would be at least an hour and you didn’t think you would survive that. Your last hope was Xavier, but…

Then, the doorbell rang. Once. Twice. And then multiple times. It was as if the person at the door was running from something. You pushed yourself up, getting to your feet, worried there was an emergency. Despite your watch not reading any fluctuations, it could have been something else.

You wobbled your way to your front door, doing your best to ignore the egg vibrating inside of you. You pulled the sweater and shirt down to cover your naked bottom fully. Each step made you clench yourself, making it rub up and down your sensitive spot. You gripped at the walls and counters as you finally made it to the door. As you squeezed your thighs together, you fumbled with the locks and then turned the knob.

The slight opening of the door was suddenly pushed further open from the outside.

Xavier.

He breathlessly said your name with concern laced through each letter. He was panting as if he had just run a mile, and his fingers were gripped on the door, looking down at you. His blue orbs were darker than usual as they searched your face for discomfort. Xavier raked his fingers through his hair, his black shirt lifting up as he raised his arm, revealing skin as his pants were low on his waist. You couldn’t help but stare and nearly drool. You felt your core get tight from arousal again, making it harder to ignore the buzzing inside of you. You wondered if he could hear it.

“Did something happen? I heard you..yelp. It sounded like you were in pain.” Xavier’s eyes looked around the living room, as if he was looking for signs of another person.

You looked down, scrunching your face together as you tried to bite back the moans threatening to come out of you. You wanted to curl into a ball and die from the shame of the state he found you in, and the face that he definitely heard you. Even though that was your goal before, the fact that it came true made you burn inside.

Desperation ate at you. “Fuck…” You cursed through gritted teeth. You pulled him in by his shirt and pressed him against the door to close it. You caged him in by planting your hands against the door by each side of his waist and looked at him. Your eyebrows were knitted together and your lower lip trembled. “P-please help me…I- ngh.” You stopped your sentence. The eye contact he held with you and the proximity of his body was enough to push you over the edge. You sank down to the floor by his feet, getting on your knees, as you tried to hold in your reaction as much as possible.

“What’s wrong?” Xavier asked, confused. He squatted down to meet you, his hand reaching under your chin to tilt up to look at him. “Use your words so I can help you.” The control he had was in heavy contrast to the control you had completely lost. Your thighs trembled and you felt your juices leak down your thighs. His words and the stern delivery made you bite your lip.

“Vibrator…ngh.” You panted, your hand reaching up to squeeze his arm. It was an attempt to focus on something else. “It’s stuck inside me…please help. I can’t-” You gasped as you clenched again, moving the egg inside of you. “I can’t get it out…” Your face burned with embarrassment.

In no time, he was up on his feet and he scooped you up in his arms. His arm hooked under your knees, and he carried you bridal style over to your bedroom. “Are you okay…with me? I have to reach inside of you.”

You could feel his eyes burning into you and you hid your face in his shoulder, gripping tightly on the fabric of his shirt. The position he carried you in pushed the egg inside of you and you were sure he could feel the vibrations from your legs. “Please…if it’s okay with you?”

“Of course.” He said instantly, placing you on the bed. “Let me wash my hands really quickly.”

You felt him leave and you rolled yourself back onto your belly, assuming that it would be easier if you weren’t facing him. You heard the water run in your bathroom and then stop before the footsteps were close to you again. You lifted your ass into the air again, waiting impatiently for him to get it out of you.

“I’m going to touch you now, okay? I have to move this up so I can see.” He said, playing with the hem of your clothing.

“P-please, just get it out quick.” You begged, slightly muffled by the pillow.

The skin on your bottoms was suddenly kissed by the cool breeze from the balcony again, cooling the liquid gushing in between your legs. You heard his breath hitch and the warmth of his hand near your entrance as the other held onto one of your cheeks. “I’m going in…I need you to relax a little, if you can. Breathe properly.” His voice, which was usually steady, had a slight break to it.

Uncertainty, you thought. Ignoring it, you moved your head to the side so you could take deep breaths, and then his fingers were inside of you. You could feel him push against the egg, and you twitched at his touch. You couldn’t help but moan. His long slender fingers were reaching areas you never could yourself, and two fingers instantly were stretching you even more as he tried to grab on.

“Fuck…you’re really tight.” Xavier said tensely. You could have sworn the grip on your ass got even tighter. “And you’re so wet…I’m having a hard time getting a grip on this thing. Can you take another finger?”

His words felt so dirty and it turned you on even more, you ended up gushing around his fingers, fluttering your walls around the egg and now him. “Ngh..fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m sorry.” Tears pricked your eyes as you came on the spot, in front of him with him inside of you. “Please, do whatever. I can’t do this anymore, Xavi, please.”

A breathy chuckle left him, “You’re driving me crazy, you know?” He said. Another finger inserted you. “Too…tight.” His hand rubbed circles on your lower back. “Relax…breathe.”

As you did your best to follow orders, you could feel him go into you deeper, spreading his fingers wider into your pussy. “Haah…” You sighed, trying to maintain your composure or what little left you had of it.

“Good girl…I almost…” He then seemed to have a good grip of the egg and then slowly pulled it out. “Got it.” His fingers, along with the egg left you with a squelch and you felt liquid drip out of you.

The room was filled with sounds of your heavy breathing and the louder buzz of the egg which was then silenced. You assumed he found the button on it. You fell onto your side, catching your breath. The multiple orgasms were taking a toll on you, and your mind was clearing up. The chain of events were replaying in your head and you started crying from embarrassment. You felt yourself being lifted by your shoulders and your head being placed onto his chest.

“Hey…why are you crying?” Xavier asked, rubbing your arms, wrapping himself around you.

You shoved your face into his chest. “I’m so embarrassed…you were just inside of me because I had that thing inside of me.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad it was me that you asked for help…if it was someone else at the door would you-” He started which you quickly looked up to deny.

You shook your head, meeting his eyes with your own teary ones. “I would rather die. I think I feel safe around you. You always help me when I need it, I knew you could help me. I don’t think I’d want anyone else to see this, either.” You explained, determined to let him know that you weren’t open to just anyone.

Xavier looked at you with wide eyes before his shocked face melted into a warm smile. “So, don’t be embarrassed. I know you were kind of stressed out just now, but I think you look really good. You sounded really good too.” His face lowered down to yours. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night, even before this. Since earlier.” His dry hand came up to your cheek, his thumb pulling your lower lip down softly. “Can I?”

You didn’t answer. Instead you pushed yourself up to meet his lips with a groan. While your lips were attached to his, you changed your position so you were on your knees on the bed, your body fully facing him. The kiss was so soft and warm, it was more than you imagined it would be. You gasped as he nibbled your bottom lip and he took his chance to explore you further. The feeling of his tongue mingling with yours made you light headed. Your hands moved to his thighs and then one roamed up from under his shirt.

He pulled you into his lap, making you straddle him.

“W-wait, I don’t have anything on. I’m going to stain y-” You tried arguing.

“Don’t care.” He stated before kissing you again, his hands held your hips and pushed you to sit on him fully. Your heat crashed into the bulge in his pants that you just noticed, making you moan loud into his mouth. Each of your sounds being swallowed by him and his groans. “Fuck…” He said against your lips, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Your hands explored underneath his shirt, your hips mindlessly grinding against him despite how sore you felt from the vibrator earlier. Your fingers traced each bump of his muscles and grazed against his nipples. A whimper left his throat, making you buck into him from surprise. “Take it off…” You tugged at his shirt. “W-wanna see you.” You begged as you pulled away.

He smirked at you, his lips looking red. You couldn’t tell if it was leftover lipstick from you or just from the intensity of kissing. Xavier instantly slipped off his shirt.

You were about to take your tops off, but his hands grabbed yours. “I like you in my sweater.”

Xavier kissed your jaw and then your neck. Peppering more kisses until he reached your ear. “Were you thinking about me?” He asked, just above a whisper. “I heard you…” He held your hips and rolled himself up into you, groaning. “...saying my name. It drove me crazy. You never did that before.”

You gasped. “You heard me- mmmph. You heard me before?” You asked, shocked and embarrassed.

“Isn’t that why you opened your doors? Who else did you want to hear you like that?” His grip tightened on you, almost bruising, bringing you down to grind more on his clothed length. “It’s just me, isn’t it? You feel so good, even just like this. You already came, but you’re still soaking me.” He groaned into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and making you moan in return.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your knuckles turning white as you held onto his shoulders for dear life. All his words made you flutter your walls around nothing. You were just begging to be empty earlier and now you couldn’t help but want to be stretched out by him again. His heavy breathing, soft moans, and dirty words were pushing you closer and closer to another orgasm. If he blew air into your ear, you swore you wouldn’t have to keep grinding down on him just to come, he could unravel you without even touching you. “J-just you, Xavi…I like you so much…wanted you to hear me and like me too.” You took a sharp inhale as you felt his clothed tip rub against your clit just right.

“Fuck- ahng. Why didn’t you say so earlier, baby? I could’ve helped you out all those other times.” Xavier then repositioned you to lie on your back before climbing on top of you, reconnecting the two of you at the hip. The weight of his cock felt heavier as he was on top of you. Even through the pants you could tell it was big. The light gray fabric turned dark, the wet spot large as well from you constantly dripping onto him. “What if that- shit…” He cursed as he slowly trailed his clothed tip in between your wet, naked folds. He lifted the sweater you were wearing up, resting it above your belly button so he could admire you more. His eyes looked blown up and glassy from the arousal, you swore his pupils covered every centimeter of blue. “If that baker heard how you sounded….fuck. He doesn't even know that you can’t even remember his name,” he let out a dark, mocking chuckle. His hands roamed along your thighs, up your stomach, and played at the hem of the pushed up sweater. “Doesn’t even know how pretty you look, writhing underneath me, right now. How good you feel…and I’m not even fucking you….”

You arched your back up from the mattress, attempting to have his hand ride up further to touch you more. You shook your head, “W-wanted only you to hear me…please, touch me.” You were gonna babble, you knew it. You grabbed his wrist that was on your stomach and pushed his hand under the sweater, to touch your breasts. Your nipples felt hard and peaked, you needed him to touch them. As if he read your mind, his fingertips grazed them, making you stutter a moan out. Your other hand played with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Can you fuck me? Please, Xavi? I want you inside me. Please?” You begged, your eyes looking up at him, half-lidded and blurry visioned.

“God, you’re driving me crazy.” He groaned, rubbing his cock against your core once more before pulling away slightly, which earned a whine to leave your lips at loss of contact. Xavier panted as he pulled his pants down slowly. “Are you sure? I don’t know if I can hold back…or even last long.” He looked around. “Do you even have a condom?”

You didn’t know whether to shake your head or nod profusely as you had multiple answers. “D-don’t care, birth control. Want you to cum inside.” Your brain was mush, desperate to cum again with him inside. “Been dreaming of this, Xavi. Don’t- ahhh!” He rolled your nipped in between his index and his thumb, interrupting you as you arched your back again, squeezing your eyes shut. “Don’t you dare hold back on me.” You managed to grit out.

“Look at me.” He commanded and your eyes shot open again. He got up from the bed and pulled his pants down before scooting back in between your legs. His cock was an immense size. Large, leaking, thick. You’ve never seen one this big before, and although you wanted to be more nervous, you were too sex fogged to care. He wrapped his hand around his length, pumping himself without much care as he looked at you intently, his jaw tensed and his eyes were full of sex. You never knew what bedroom eyes were until you saw him. His other hand slid up your thigh again, the trail electrifying. He then pushed the sweater up to rest above your tits, tucking it under your chin. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. I could cum just looking at you…” Xavier said, lust dripping from his words as he continued to pump himself.

You could watch him jerk off and cum right then and there too. Knowing that you were the reason was enough to make you whine. “Please, Xavi…”

He dragged his now bare tip in between your equally bare folds. You twitched at the touch and lifted your hips to quicken his proximity to your entrance, but his hand held you down. “Ah, ah…be patient for me, my star.” He hissed, yet his words didn’t match his actions as he already lined himself up to your leaking hole. “You’re already so wet, I think I could just slip right in…ahh.” He teased the tip in, pushing it in and out. The stretch was already bigger than you imagined, but you were so turned on, there was no room to be in pain.

You moaned and whined, begging for more. A mantra of pleases and curses left your lips as he finally slid more of himself in with a groan.

“Fuck…” He groaned as he was halfway in, heaving. “You’re still so tight…won’t ever get enough of this.” He slid further in. “This is just for me, right? You’re mine now, aren’t you?” His fingers had a bruising grip on your thighs, keeping your legs on his hips, opening you up to him. “Tell me…” He commanded as he slid further.

“A-all yours. Just for you…take- holy fuck…take all of me. Whenever…whereever…” You babbled, your head dropping back onto the pillow, your gaze moving the ceiling as you felt him even deeper than before. “F-fuck me.”

Xavier leaned over as he bottomed out with a gasp, his hand moved to the back of your head, forcing you to look at him and where the two of you were connected. “Keep looking at me, baby. Need you to see the mess we’re making.” The skin around where the two of you met was glistening. Either with sweat, cum, slick…you couldn’t give a fuck. He was finally inside of you. Even if you wanted to look away, your eyes were glued. Either at his dick or his eyes, it was the only thing you could focus on. And then he started moving. “Shit, you take me so well. I’m the only one who can make you this wet…can’t you hear?” Loud squelching sounds came from him moving in and out of you, you could even see tiny splatters of liquid. “You’re so fucking wet, I think I’m gonna drown, but you’re still so tight…are you nervous? Or are you just a perfect fit for me? Relax a little baby…” He was turning such mundane words into the dirtiest sentences and it was driving you over the edge.

You couldn’t respond, all that was coming out of you when you wanted to was choked moans and whines. And the only word you could force out was his name. “X-Xavi…hngh…Xavie-r.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours and then he leaned down into a bruising kiss, teeth clashing and drool spilling at the side of your mouth.

“Keep saying my name, I’m so fucking close.” He said against your lips before moving back again to watch him go in and out of you, you swore he drooled too. Then he licked his thumb and placed it on your clit, rubbing circles in a calculated manner. “Let me feel you cum around my cock like you did my fingers. So fucking pretty, I wanna feel you squeeze around me like that here too.” The pressure building was driving you crazy, nearly having you scream his name. You wondered if the entirety of Linkon could hear you. As if he heard your thoughts again, “Tell the whole city who you belong to, starlight.” He groaned, his thrusts turning sloppier by the second.

“Xavier! G-gonna c-” You couldn’t even finish before you felt yourself spill all over his cock, spasming around him. You tried to hold eye contact, but couldn’t take the multiple sensations and you threw your head back, your hips stuttering as he continued to pound into you. You swore your back could have snapped in half with how far and fast you arched it up as you came.

“Right-fucking-there…holy shit.” He groaned and said in between thrusting into you. “Fucking…take it…” He groaned before spilling into you. It was hard to tell which warmth was his which was yours, but the of him cumming inside of you was enough to bring you to another quick and short second wave. “God…you’re going to drain me…” He panted, falling on top of you, still softly thrusting himself through his orgasm and yours. His lips latched onto your neck, leaving marks in between his breathy whines.

He rolled the two of you over, still connected so you could rest on him instead of the other way around. Your head was on his chest, listening to his erratic heartbeat return to a more normal state as each minute passed by. The two of you were still heaving and still sticky. You could feel yourself leak around his softening cock. He finally let you remove his sweater as it was bunched on around your chest awkwardly, so you were fully connected in your purest, rawest form.

You giggled, thinking about the tarot cards Tara pulled.

“What’s so funny, starlight?” He rubbed your back softly, his chin on top of your head as he spoke.

“Just thinking that the stars are forever in our favor…” You mumbled, fully content with the night.

#lads #love and deepspace #lnds #lads fic #lnds fic #love and deepspace fic #lads xavier #lads xavier smut #lads smut #xavier smut #love and deepspace smut #xaviermc smut #lnds smut #lnds xavier smut #lnds xavier

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pichichuu · 2 days ago

Note

Heya :3

I was wondering if I could request two things in one ask(one nsfw and one sfw)

So for the sfw I would like to ask for the saja boys (seperate) with a partner that's a menace to society as in always pulling pranks and teasing their boyfriend hehe >:3

And then the nsfw ask is like reader trying to tease the saja boys (again seperate :D) only for it to back fire and it ends up with them teasing and flustering the hell out of the reader (possibly leaving them hot and bothered for trying to tease;3)

Hopefully this isn't too long of a request (I just tried to explain my ideas to the best of my ability T3T)

ofc! the sfw answer is above the cut, so mdni under the cut please :)

this was a bit of a challenge, but i hope you enjoy!

Teasing the Saja Boys (gn!reader)

m.list

Jinu often doesn't know how to respond to your pranks. he gets scared easily, so his reflexive reactions always seem natural, but he's usually confused until someone around him realizes what's going on and starts laughing. usually this person is abby. it's really fun to make him flustered and jumpy. his reactions are always so cute. he rolls his eyes at you a lot as a joke, but still falls for your teasing every time.

Abby publicly plays pranks and teases you in response to your menace behavior. it's quite the spectacle for fans. you've even been able to organize a prank with his fans, blocking him on social media and getting your followers to pull the prank in secret. it's not like the toxic prank wars you see on youtube, but you two do mess with each other frequently. your pranks are always harmless. you guys joke more than anything though, and your inside jokes even make their way into interviews sometimes.

Baby encourages you to prank the other members of the saja boys. he's like the ultimate accomplice. he's so good at playing dumb and acting like he has no idea what's going on, even though he helped you plan the whole thing. he gets a little frustrated when you tease him, although he's usually just upset that he didn't predict your pranks.

Romance acts like a drama queen about it, which only makes you want to tease him more. he'll whine about things going wrong, but if he finds out you're the cause, he's quick to accept the situation. he usually responds to your antics with a loving gaze, much to your chagrin. he loves your pouty face when your pranks backfire, and always pulls you in for a hug when you tell him to have normal reactions, your balled fists drumming gently on his chest.

Mystery puts on an act like he's done with your antics, but his eyes are so joyful under his hair. he's a pretty quiet guy, but he loves how mischievous you can be, especially when it's just the two of you. if you're in public, he'll try to keep a composed appearance for the press and paparazzi, but if you're alone, he'll play along, poking fun at you when you stumble over your sentences or hide things from you when you're looking for them.

Jinu becomes a whiny mess when you tease him. you're his weakness, and you both realize it. you'll kiss the sensitive spot on his neck and press hickeys into his skin, hands working over his back, sides, and hips as he shivers under your touch. usually, you're able to just barely stop before he turns the tables on you, but sometimes, he snaps, pinning you under him and grinding his hips into yours, moans echoing in your mouth. you usually top him, but you love it when you break him. he takes what he wants, always taking care of his own needs first, but he always makes you finish too. he thinks not making you cum first is punishment enough.

Abby doesn't let you tease him for long before he takes control. he'll whisper the filthiest things you've ever heard, breath hot on the shell of your ear, while his fingers plunge in and out of you. he'll promise to make you cum, but he'll edge you the whole time, only letting you finish if you've been good. if you try to tease him in public, he has an especially dirty mouth, holding you in front of him to hide his raging boner. his dirty talk is relentless, even if you're in conversation with others; his goal is to make you noticeably flustered. he loves watching you try to cover your tracks when people ask if you're doing alright.

Baby is the meanest of the group. he'll play along with your teasing, acting like you have control over him, before retaliating, kissing and touching you in your most sensitive spots. he uses you to get off. he usually fucks your throat, degrading you throughout, but will refuse to help you finish, believing you've dug your own grave. if you decide to touch yourself, he'll watch, lazily stroking his half-hard dick. sometimes, he'll record you. it may not seem like it, but he loves when you tease him.

Romance is a sucker for your teasing, much like jinu. it takes a lot for him to break and take what he wants; he's always been fond of slow sex, no matter whether teasing is involved or not. but, without fail, you can make him snap if you set a teasing pace with your hips or tongue. nothing drives him crazier than being inside of you and moving at such a slow pace. if you aren't cockwarming him, he at least wants constant movement or a consistent pace. he'll grab onto your hips or the sides of your head, gently bucking into you. he'll beg for you to stop teasing and go faster even after he's taken control, mind too clouded with pleasure to realize it's pointless to ask now.

Mystery will keep his hands off of you as you tease him, hands and mouth roaming wherever you like, he'll get fed up if you get close to cumming by grinding on him, pushing you off right before you finish. he'll sit back, undoing his own belt and stroking himself instead, long fingers wrapped around his shaft and setting a brutal pace. he'll make you touch yourself too, so he can watch, but he doesn't really care whether you can make yourself finish or not, but he'll put up an act like he wants to help you. after he finishes, he'll lean down and plant a kiss right on your slit, giving you a kitten lick before leaving the room, leaving you hot and bothered.

m.list

Taglist: @lamogliedizayne

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tsuemi · 2 days ago

Text

If Things Were Different

tw: emotional breakdown, lying, mention of abandonment, lingering heartbreak

notes: (probably) the last part 🥲 i'm glad y'all liked it so here's the part three <3. i love oikawa sm 🤍. p1 p2

you should’ve walked away.

you should’ve taken your son by the hand, whispered a soft apology, and left the past buried where it belonged.

but instead, you stood frozen in that daycare hallway — eyes locked on tooru, heart beating like war drums in your chest, and four years of silence coiling like barbed wire around your throat.

“y/n,” he said again, stepping closer now, holding your son's hand like it was sacred.

“is he...?”

you couldn’t look at him. not really. not with his eyes already red, not with the way he looked at your son — like he already knew. so you did the only thing you thought would protect him.

you lied.

“he’s not yours.”

the words cut like broken glass leaving your mouth. you didn’t even recognize your own voice.

tooru froze.

“what?” he breathed.

you forced your gaze to meet his, even as it made you sick. “i moved on, after you left. after you… after everything. he’s not yours.”

there was a beat of silence. and then he laughed.

not because it was funny. it was the kind of laugh people make when they’re falling apart. when the pain is too much to scream.

“bullshit,” he whispered, voice cracking. “he has my face, y/n.”

you clenched your jaw. “it’s just a coincidence.”

“he has my fucking face.” he repeated.

“doesn't mean he's—”

“don’t.” his voice turned sharp. loud enough that your son flinched a little, looking up at him with wide, confused eyes.

you knelt down immediately, whispering, “baby, go get your coloring book from the cubby, okay? mommy just needs to talk.”

he obeyed without question — sweet and trusting, too innocent to know the war unraveling behind him.

when you stood again, oikawa was inches away.

his voice dropped, low and shaking. “why?”

your lip trembled. you bit it hard. why does he had to come back?

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“because,” you whispered, fists clenched at your sides, “you would’ve given up everything. i couldn’t be the reason you destroyed your dream. you told me you wanted to be the strongest. volleyball is your everything, tooru. you worked for that your entire life.”

his eyes flashed. “so you thought it was better to let me think you didn’t love me anymore? to let me think you just… walked away without a word? fuck, you really thought i would've chosen my career over you?”

“i had to. you wouldn’t have left if you knew. you would’ve stayed, and you would’ve resented it. me. him.”

“you don’t get to decide that for me!” he snapped.

your breath hitched. his words hit you like a punch to the chest.

“do you have any idea,” his voice broke, “what it felt like? waiting for you to call. checking every message. wondering why the hell you blocked my number just like that—wondering what the hell i did wrong?”

you looked away, vision blurring.

“i thought you hated me. i thought i failed you. and all this time, i had a son?”

the silence afterward was deafening.

you swore you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“i didn’t want to ruin you,” you whispered, throat raw. “so i ruined myself instead.”

he stared at you, expression unreadable.

“i'm sorry,” you said, finally — and it wasn’t nearly enough.

oikawa looked at your son, then back at you. his hands were shaking.

“don’t push me away,” he said softly. “just... just let me be in his world. even just a little.”

your chest cracked. something inside you gave way.

“i didn’t know how to do this alone,” you said, voice thick. “but i did. every day. every scraped knee. every fever. every night he cried and asked why he didn’t have a father and i— i told him you were just out there working— that you were doing something important. i didn’t want him to hate you.”

oikawa blinked, eyes glistening now. “you still loved me.”

“i never stopped.”

his breath hitched. “then why…”

“because i was scared,” you said. “and I’m still scared.”

you wiped your face roughly, turning away. “but you’re right. he’s yours. he always was.”

there was a long pause. neither of you moved.

then, behind you, a small voice spoke: “mommy… is he my daddy?”

you froze.

oikawa stepped forward slowly, kneeling down again. his voice shook when he answered.

“yeah, bud,” he said, a hand on his heart. “i think i am.”

your son tilted his head. “you play volleyball.”

“i do.”

“that’s cool,” he exclaimed. "i like volleyball!"

and you broke.

right there, in the hallway, in front of the man you still loved and the child you’d raised alone — you broke.

because everything you ran from had caught up with you. and somehow, he was still here.

he came back.

to you.

and maybe… maybe now, things could finally begin again.

even if it wasn’t the way you imagined.

🍣 last part !! making it as a series crossed my mind tbh but i'll still think about it for now and label this one as the last part. i love me some haikyuu angst (recommended me some if yk sum good shi) ty for reading 🤍.

💌 taglists : @syrawberry @winonnaa @theflatdoorkicker @ilovemymomscooking @getosba11s @greylykaylee @g0d3s @zamorazz

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 13 hours ago

Note

I'm a sucker for a sexual yandere withholding orgasms, either forever because their pleasure is not a priority anymore, or using it as a future reward for good behavior. "Once you've learned to behave I will let you feel so good, don't you want that, precious? Hm, don't you want it to stop hurting, for me to stop edging you like this all the time? All you have to do is be good and submit"

*swooning*

➯a/n: *GNAWING ON THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE* WRARARARAR- mh mhm very good concept i like 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️. ➯a/n2: this is naaawt a drabble it's a whole ass fic 😭 you and me are just on the same wavelength so hard kkkkk

Best Behavior

❥Kang Yeosang, Kim Hongjoong, Jeong Yunho

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: YIPES! DEAD DOVE. extremely dubious consent, yandere m / captive fem reader, pretty much free use reader, mind breaking via orgasm denial, extremeeee edging, cock warming, somnophilia, clit stimulation, biting (specifically chest), inappropriate use of a shower head, unprotected (boooo), pet names: angel, precious, good + sweet girl / baby

♡masterlist + navigation !♡

18+, MINORS WILL UNEXPLAINABLY EXPLODE.

"Only good girls get to feel good." That's what he says to you time and time again whenever you ask if he could maybe let you get off after he's done using you. "And you haven't been good, have you?"

You haven't. You're still a brat to the bone. The only reason you even let him touch you is because you've learned that it's easier that way. It even feels nice a lot of the time.

But he never satisfies you — and it's fully intentional.

He isn't an idiot. He knows how to make a woman cum. And he's fully willing to help you out... as soon as you accept your place and start behaving.

But you still like to make random breaks for the door. Even when you know it's deadbolted and will only open with the key he keeps hidden away.

You still fight him on other things — all other things, basically.

Your chores, the clothes he picks for you, the way he loves to crush you to his chest in a hug while he falls asleep. Above those all, there's one thing he always gets onto you for. One thing he wants more than anything.

He wants to be greeted at the door when he comes home, his pretty little "wife" the first thing he sees after a long day.

And you have not been faithful in that duty. You've only met him at the door a handful of times, after particularly rough punishments the day before, so that you might please him a bit and get him to cool down.

But today, he gets home, and there you are. Leaning against the wall with a small, nervous smile as you say softly, "welcome home, baby."

He hasn't punished you lately, so he's immediately suspicious of your behavior. "Hey...?"

"How was your day? What was the weather like?" You ask eagerly, following him into your home after he rids himself of his shoes — eyes shining as you trail after him like a lost puppy.

"What's all this?" He pauses at the kitchen, looking around curiously.

"What's what, baby?"

His heart flutters a bit as you call him that again, so smoothly. Like it doesn't burn your tongue. But he keeps his guard up, turning back to you with narrowed eyes, "it's spotless."

"Oh... yeah! I cleaned our bathroom too, and I did a load of laundry, I hope you don't mind. You didn't tell me I was allowed to but I noticed a lot of your shirts were d-"

Your rambling gets cut off as he cups your jaw and smashes his lips to yours. It's quick, but it's hot — so hot that it lights the fire in your belly that's always been under the surface the past few months, simmering as a pesky ember.

You haven't cum in a long, long time. Your body is always on edge.

You tried to satisfy yourself once while he was at work, and somehow; he knew. He could feel in his gut that you were up to no good. He caught you red handed right before you could finish. And he fucked you to the brink of insanity. Every time you thought he might finally push you over the edge if you kept still and quiet enough, he knew. He always knows.

And he knows you're doing this because you're about to break. You're about to really fucking lose it if he doesn't let you cum soon.

He fucks you on the table, then and there. Nice and slow. Telling you how proud he is of your behavior and how you're on the path to becoming such a good girl for him. But he doesn't let you cum. Even as you start tearing up and clinging to him, begging like it's your life at stake and not an orgasm.

You meet him at the door again the next day. "Welcome home, baby." A begging smile on your face as you follow him into the house, showing him how you've deep cleaned the living room. You even wiped the blinds and windows without even touching the latches.

He eats you out that night. He rarely does. Only as a treat. To encourage good behavior because he knows you love the way his tongue feels against you. He lets you taste the relief on the tip of your tongue before he stops, and he holds your arms to your sides as you thrash and beg pathetically for him to just please let you cum. When it fades away, you take a few deep breathes before apologizing for your outburst.

And that pleases him deeply. You're learning. You're finally learning — he's the one in control of you. Every single part of you, down to the clothes you wear and when you cum.

The next morning, he doesn't have to work. You crawl on top of him and wake him up by grinding on his cock until it's hard. Maybe, that's a big maybe, you could've came before he woke up. But you purposely keep your clit angled away from any pressure. It doesn't make you any less needy.

He blinks at you groggily, a small laugh let out. "What are you doing?" His raspy morning voice sends wetness straight down to your core.

"I thought I'd start your day off nicely."

He lets you ride him until he cums, and he's pleasantly surprised to find that you don't even ask if you can. You just tremble and hold back your tears as you cock warm him; thankful that he lets you fall back asleep so your pleasure can die down, shushed softly as he strokes your back. Once again telling you you're behaving so good.

He wakes you up the same way, gently maneuvering you onto your back and rolling his hips into your sleepy form as you hold him close, half-deliriously moaning how nice it feels as he fucks another load into you. And you don't ask if you can cum. Even though you need it so badly it physically hurts.

The day will come soon. He just wants to be extra sure you've earned it.

He keeps you so precariously on edge that the fucking wind could blow the right way and you'd be creaming your pants. Starting after breakfast. He watches you clear the plates with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he stands up and comes behind you. His hand is shoved down your pajamas pants and he circles your clit until your knees are shaking and then he pulls away, kisses your neck and tells you, "keep being a good girl for me, precious."

You do. You don't even have to think about it, you just do.

He joins you in the shower. Washes your hair for you and takes the shower head down to rinse it carefully. Smiles innocently as he changes the setting and brings it down to your sensitive cunt. And you still don't ask, you only take what he gives you and are left a panting mess at the end; dripping with water and arousal.

The next time is around noon, you're both laid lazily in bed watching a show when he wordlessly pulls his cock out and starts jerking off like it's the most normal thing in the world to just do that. "Be good for me and open your legs." You do as he asks immediately; taking off your bottoms and spreading your legs, letting him lay atop you and bite at your chest through your pajama top as he fucks you so roughly that you're seeing stars. You don't ask to cum. Your clit is throbbing even as he stills inside of you.

He gets you back to back. Still hard, he grinds into you slow and messily; dirtying the sheets with his pleasure. You feel like you're going to explode. He hugs you close as you start sniffling, wrapping your legs around his waist to beg silently. "You're being so good for me," he moans into your neck, "don't you fucking cum. You've been a brat for so long, do you really think you deserve it?"

"N-no," you whisper, "but I want it so bad."

"I know you do, but I don't care what you want. It's what you deserve that matters. If you want to cum, you have to work for it."

You work for it. You're starting to doubt he'll ever let you cum, but you try your damnedest to be on your very best behavior. You even say thank you after he pumps another load of his cum into you.

He tests you, leaves his phone unlocked on the couch as he goes to the bathroom later. It, and you, are in the same exact spot as when he left. "Baby, what about this movie," you point with the remote — completely unaware that freedom was just within your grasp.

You've earned it. He smiles as he sits down beside you, kissing your head. "What's it about?"

The next day, there you are when he opens the door. You deserve it. "Welcome home, baby."

"Bedroom." He says shortly, stunning you.

"What?"

"Go to the bedroom," he explains further, leaning to cup your cheek as he kicks his shoes off, "and strip if you want to cum." The way you almost fall over in your hurry to run makes him laugh a bit as he takes his time; giving you enough to do what he asked.

And he finds you there, laid out with a hopeful expression. "What did you do today?" He asks casually as he begins ridding himself of his clothes, his cock growing hard in his boxers at the pure submission in your eyes.

"I d- I did some reading, I vacuumed..."

"So, you were a good girl?" He hums, the weight of his words heavy as he crawls over you. Slipping his hand down to your cunt, he finds it already growing wet with anticipation.

"Yes," you nod quickly, practically floating at the feeling of two of his fingers slipping inside of you slowly. "Please, yes-" You bring your hands to your face, already breathing heavily as he curls his digits into your g-spot.

"Look at me." He slaps your hands away gently, fingers picking up their pace until you're gasping and grabbing his biceps. Already on the edge from less than a minute of fingering. He's made you more than desperate. If he denies you one more time you think you might go insane. "Cum whenever you're ready."

"Holy shit!" You scream, pure joy in every fiber of your being followed by a rush of ecstasy like you've never felt in your entire life as you finally, finally get full satisfaction. "Ffffuck! Son of a bitch!" Every curse word you know is yelled into the void as your entire body convulses underneath him. And then it's followed by, "ahh, my g- I love you!"

He almost faints, as do you. Your eyes rolling back and your jaw dropping and your cunt squelching around his fingers as he sends you to another plane of existence.

You're still trembling with the aftershocks of your first orgasm in months whenever he slides his cock inside of you. You almost want to marry him for real. He doesn't start gentle, and you don't give a single flying fuck. It's all like one continuous wave of relief as he pounds into your twitching cunt.

"Yeah~?" He chuckles airily, gripping your thighs and pulling you into his wild thrusts, "you love me, angel?" The realization dawns on you that you just confessed your love to him mid-mind-blowing-orgasm. And you still can't find it in yourself to care. You do love him for finally letting that fire that's been burning you up from the inside out finally consume you whole.

"Yes!"

"Fuck-" He leans over and catches your lips quickly, kissing you with a whole new wave of energy and passion. Your lip gets tugged back between his teeth as he pulls away. "Isn't it worth it, precious? All you have to do is behave and I'll make you feel so good~ I bet you're gonna be my perfect girl from now on, huh?"

You can't even respond, jaw stuck open with uncontrollable moans as he rattles your tingling brain with each mean snap of his hips. You manage something that resembles a cry of, "babyyy!" As you dig your nails into his arms, legs trembling on either side of him.

"Shhh, you just lay back and enjoy yourself, angel," he leans his head down, nipping at your chest and swirling his tongue around your painfully hard nipple until you're gushing all over him with a second soul-shaking orgasm before your first even fully fades.

The flames have fully enveloped you, every nerve in your body screaming with delight.

"You deserve it, sweet girl," he coos breathlessly as you clench around him. "This is what you get when you're on your best behavior~"

You're certainly going to be on your best behavior from now on.

─..★.─────

₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy @kyomiingi @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @klllerwaifu @seonghwasslytherin @yoonglesbae @wolviejex @estrnrea @lover-ofallthingspretty @willowwyy @jaerisdiction @peelingpaint-heavyheart @satsuri3su @bubbly-moon

194 notes · View notes

deadpanjisung · 17 hours ago

Text

̆̈ ♡ friends, lovers or nothing ♡ ̆̈

pairing: mullet!bangchan x afab!stylist!reader

genre: friends to lovers, smut

MDNI!!!! please have your age in your bio

wc: 3.0k

warnings: y/n is used, mutual pining, mentions of alcohol and drinking, long-haired bangchan <333, touchy chan, kinda possessive chan, oral sex (m! receiving), fingering, car sex, public-ish sex (with nobody around), unpr0tected sex, cre4mpie.

a/n: the title is based on a john m4yer song but I kinda h8 him, so it’s rlly not based on the song btw! again, not rlly proofread. i tried to make this short but im a yapper :(

thanks for reading <3

“I can’t believe I actually grew it out.” Chris said, examining his figure in the mirror in front of him. His hands played with his own hair, longer than anticipated. His hair grew without him noticing —most days he would have it up in a ponytail or covered by headwear of any sorts.

“You’ll officially keep it long, then?” You asked, staring at your friend curiously as he tousled his hair.

“What do you think? Should I?”

“I like it.” You answered, reaching to run your fingers through his new luscious locks. “It’s gotten healthier, too.”

“Really?” A rhetorical question. You removed your hand from his head as he ran his own fingers through his hair to validate your statement. “Hm. I guess so.”

“I think you look great like this.” You stated, looking at him through the mirror. “I just cut the ends a bit. And, please, do not dye it for a while. I want to see if it can reach its full potential.” Chris scoffed at that comment, knowing well that he didn’t always have a say on whether or not he’d dye it for a comeback.

“I’ll try.”

“If they give you shit, send them to me. I can fight.” You joked. He chuckled.

“I’m probably a better shot than you, if we’re being honest.”

“I have shears, though. I’m basically Edward Scissorhands.”

“Touché.”

“So, am I still invited to the release party on Friday?” You asked Chris, who was still styling his hair in front of the mirror.

“Of course you are.” He replied.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of… funny that you’re bringing your hairstylist as your plus one?” You asked. Chris placed his hands on each side of his hips and rolled his eyes at you.

“Did you forget the years of friendship we’ve had?” He asked. “You’re not just my hairstylist. Plus, it’s great that we get to celebrate Itzy’s new EP here instead of being on tour or busy or whatever.”

“Okay, ‘m just making sure that you don’t regret it.”

“I won’t. Do you want me to pick you up?”

“Yeah.”

Chris was always busy, working on something… he never had time for leisure or for dates, visits to his family, long-term relationships, nothing like that. He barely made space to take care of his basic needs. He had been like that since you met him when you worked for JYPE as a hairdresser. You started there as an intern and took a temporary position for a few months, which turned into a few years. It hadn’t been long since you opened your own salon. You were still familiar with the current talent. But you didn’t really keep in contact with anyone except Chris and the occasional text or visit from Hyunjin and Jeongin, who asked for hair-related consultation often.

It didn’t shock you too much when Chris sent an apology text that he’d been running late at the studio and that Jeongin would pick you up instead. You were slightly disappointed at Chris overworking himself (again!) but definitely not surprised.

Jeongin picked you up earlier than you anticipated.

“Hi noona. Have you been well?” He asked, as you sat down in his car, pulling down the mirror to continue doing your makeup.

“I have! How have you been?”

“Tired. Hungry. Bloated. A little bit of everything.” He replied, a light blush appeared on his face.

“Your hair looks cute like this.” You commented. Jeongin blushed.

“Thank you. I think I’m liking it natural for now.”

“Good, you should all stop bleaching it so often if you don’t want a baldracha soon.” You teased; he laughed. “Thanks for picking me up, by the way.”

“You’re always welcome, noona.”

Jeongin pulled up at the company’s venue and left his car in the valet parking. You, who had considered taking your own car and meeting Chris there, were endlessly thankful that you didn’t; just because you wouldn’t have to park. When you arrived at the venue, someone took your attendance as Chris’s plus one that instead arrived with Jeongin.

You greeted your past clients and coworkers with excited and emotional hugs, holding small talk with all of them, even with JYP himself.

“Y/N!” Yeji almost screamed when she saw you, instantly taking you into her embrace. Jeongin congratulated her and squeezed your arm to let you know that he’d be with his members. “I’m so happy to finally see you again!”

“You are too! Congratulations on the album as well. I’ve been playing ever since it came out!” You said, she blushed at that.

“Where’s Chris? I thought you’d be coming with him… not Jeongin?” She asked. “Did you know that I asked him for your address to send you an invite and he said that you were his plus one? Rude, right? I didn’t want you to think that we didn’t want you here!”

“I did not know that.” You chuckled, confused but, again, not too surprised. “I would never think that you didn’t want me here, though. I’d be salty if that were true.” She laughed.

“Ah! I miss you, unnie.” She spoke. “My new stylist is great, but I miss talking to you.”

“Feel free to text me whenever.” You offered. “Hyunjin and Jeongin text me, like, once a day to ask about shampoo and styling cream.” She giggled, still holding you in her embrace. You felt reminiscent; not missing the workplace environment in itself but you did miss your clients. Especially those with whom you had worked closely with, like Itzy and Stray Kids.

You turned around when you felt a hand on the small of your back. You smelled his perfume before actually seeing him. Looking back, Chris, Changbin and Jisung stood around you and Yeji. They expressed their commendations to Yeji before shifting their attention to you. Yeji thanked them and gave you one last squeeze before leaving you.

“Noona!” Jisung sang as he gave you a hug. Changbin followed suit.

It had been months since you had last seen them. They both looked (and felt) more muscular. You almost blushed at their embraces. Then you turned your attention to Chris frowning at him. Jisung and Changbin waved at you, leaving you alone with Chris, catching the vibe.

“I know, I know! I’m sorry!” He said, before you could speak up. You deadpanned. “I couldn’t leave just yet! I was going to let you know with a bit more time, but Jeongin offered to pick you up.” You just stared at him, slowly blinking. “Will you keep guilt-tripping me or are you going to enjoy this? I could’ve brought Hannah.”

“I don’t know. A certain member of Itzy told me that I was invited anyways, so you could’ve brought your sister instead.” You smirked, Chris’s face turned crimson immediately. “So yeah. I could’ve been here on my own accord!”

“Okay, you got me there. I wanted to pick you up because I have something that I wanted to show you…” He muttered. “But whatever, it’ll be too late to go now. I wasn’t even supposed to go to work today.” You rolled your eyes.

“Or you could’ve been honest and invited me out independently.” You countered, making him blush again.

“I’m kind of dumb. I didn’t think you’d want to hang out with me if you saw me last week.”

“Chris, I love hanging out with you. You don’t really need an excuse for that.” You added, softly, taking a hold of his arm. “Let’s go. Your children quite literally look so lost and miserable without you. They work with everyone here, why are they standing in the corner huddling like penguins?” Chris laughed.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I promise it won’t happen again.” He said, you deadpanned once again. “Okay, I’ll let you know with anticipation, if it’s going to happen.” You stared at him. “I won’t lie about your invitation to events.” You said nothing, he sighed. “And I’ll give Yeji your address…”

“Apology accepted! Let’s get shitfaced!”

You excitedly greeted Felix, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Minho. You had seen more of Jeongin and Hyunjin as they visited you at the salon sometimes. And you did know what Jisung and Changbin were generally up to because they were always with Chris. But the other members and their current personal endeavors were a mystery to you. You listened as Felix talked about how the tour would start soon. Seungmin was taking piano lessons from Jeongin. Jisung had been writing song for a new group. Changbin’s family bought a golf cart and had to return it. Minho told you about his latest fishing trip and how it ended early because Jisung couldn’t handle living without air-conditioning.

Not that you paid too much attention to their conversations. You couldn’t pay attention when with every passing drink, Chris’s arm shifted a little lower on your body. It started with his arm around your shoulders, then on your upper back, lowered down to your waist and now his arm was draped lazily around your hips. It almost seemed unintentional.

You could feel the heat of his body next to yours. His hold on you nearly seemed… possessive. As if he wanted to let everyone know that you were there with him. Him… not anyone else, despite being surrounded by men and arriving with a different guy. A few drinks in and the alcohol’s buzz made you feel like dancing. You were taken by surprise when Hyunjin asked you to dance with him, even with Chris’s grip on you.

You agreed, of course.

You couldn’t remember which track was playing, you just knew that dancing was top priority. Especially when you had Hyunjin, an acclaimed dancer, on your arm. His hands found their way to yours, interlocking your fingers. He twirled you around, laughing at the childish dance for a not-so-childish song. You didn’t care and neither did he or anyone else. Instead, people joined you and Hyunjin (always a natural trendsetter). The song changed to a slower beat, a deeper tone.

Suddenly, you felt the same warm arm around you, dragging your attention away from Hyunjin who kept dancing alone. Chris’s strong hands held your waist, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck. You were so close that his drunken breath ghosted against you. Your heart nearly skipped beats due to the close proximity between you. You swung your hips lazily to the song, not being able to register anything aside from Chris.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He said in a low, deep voice. “I would’ve loved to have arrived with you. For everyone to see us… getting here… together. The way it should’ve happened.”

“Chris.” You warned him, knowing that he could regret saying something stupid.

“I know…” He paused. “But I don’t care.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m tipsy at most, not even that.” He countered. “I meant what I said. I wish we had come together. I should have risked it all.”

“Why don’t you, then?” You teased; he blinked at you in disbelief. You weren’t sure if he was bluffing or not. “Risk it all…” Chris clenched his jaw.

“Babe, you’re joking, right?” He asked less dazed, more serious, “don’t play me like that.” You nodded in response, inching closer to his ear and whispered

“I’d risk it all… if it’s for you.”

Chris took no time in grabbing your arm, pulling you away from your dancing friends, who stared at you confounded —not that you noticed or even cared about that. Not when Chris seemed so needy. You had blurred the lines of your friendship many times… a drunk confession here, a stoned kiss there. But you weren’t sure where Chris actually stood in terms of you —not until Yeji said that he was adamant about you being his plus one… or him wanting to arrive with you on his arm. And you would risk it all for him. That was the truth of the matter, you hoped that he’d mean those words as well; that it wasn’t just another tipsy confession that would be ignored the next day.

You said a very, very quick and superficial goodbye to the members of Itzy and the Stray Kids who weren’t on the dance floor, still held by Chris’s grasp… on your hand now. Using the excuse that you were tipsy and not feeling well. Which was a blatant lie, you felt sober once Chris’s hands were on your body. By the looks of it… and the intentionality of his actions, he wasn’t even tipsy either.

He didn’t say anything to you; you arrived at the parking lot. Chris never cared for valet parking, instead he searched for his car, parked in a dark corner of the lot, and unlocked it with his beeper. Your heart raced when he opened the passenger door for you. Once inside, he slammed his lips on yours… not giving you or himself no time to regret it. This kiss was different from the others. It felt more desperate and hungrier and real. It felt like a kiss you weren’t going to conveniently forget the next morning. His lips tasted faintly like lychee soju and cocoa whiskey, yours were locked on his… your lipstick transferring to a smudge on his face. His hands were on your face and yours tangled in his luscious locks.

You kissed him hard and slow and sexy for that seemed like an eternity. The familiar warmth of his hands roamed your entire body as the kiss grew needier and hungrier with each passing moment. And you couldn’t help but focus on the feeling of your arousal soaking your panties. Especially when one of Chris’s hands had been sitting on your inner thigh, grabbing at it, inching closer to your center.

“Fuck, Y/N...” Chris moaned out, breaking the kiss. “Want to get out of here?”

“We could…or…we could take it to the backseat?” You offered. Chris nodded frantically. You crawled from the passenger seat to the backseat as Chris placed the sunshade on his windshield for a better —false sense of privacy. You started undressing, desperate to finally feel Chris’s body on yours. You took off your heels, then your panties. Then, Chris joined you in the back, desperately attempting to take his shirt off, discarding it in the front seat.

“C’mon, baby.” Chris said, patting his lap for you to straddle him.

His black slacks did miracles to conceal his growing bulge because you didn’t notice it until you were sitting on top of it. You could feel his sharp erection poke at your entrance through the flimsy fabric of your underwear. The unexpected friction made you let out an involuntary moan. Chris’s hands found your hips, helping you grind against him until it became too much. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted in such a delicious manner that you would’ve loved to take a picture. To save that moment forever in a physical sense. You halted your movements, lowering yourself onto your knees in the small space between the back and front seat. Chris looked at you, confused.

Your hands found the button of Chris’s pants; he looked at you with dazed stars in his eyes and helped you lower down his pants and underwear. His cock sprung up, girthy and hard against his stomach. You wasted no time in taking him into his mouth. Chris’s hands wasted no time in tangling his hands into your hair, which, in return, made you moan.

“Baby, that feels…heavenly.” He groaned as he accidentally bucked his hips upwards. Your nose met the coarse hair on his pubic bone. His hands pushed your head, making you deepthroat him further. “Sorry, baby. S-sorry. It just feels so good.” He released his grip on your hair, but you kept him deep in your mouth. Chris moaned at that feeling. “Shit, baby. I’m going to cum if you don’t…”

You released his cock with a pop of your mouth. Your saliva coating his dick, pubes and the corners of your mouth.

“Come ride me, baby.” He said, breathless… grinning with satisfaction.

You were now bare in front of him, teasing his erection with your folds, grinding against it. He threw his head back every time his tip prodded your entrance. Then, you took him in… all at once. It was painfully pleasurable. But you still made a mental note to not take him without prep again. The stretch was still delicious. Chris took his time in adjusting to the feeling of your walls clenching around him. But, you were desperate. His hands tried to ground you on his dick, you started moving. Chris moaned at your unexpectedly fast pace. His tip kissed the deepest crevices of your cervix as his hands caressed your ass. They groped and grabbed at it every time you moved on his dick.

His hand snaked between your bodies to find your clit, rubbing sultry circles around it. The pleasure made you feel surprisingly on edge. You kept bouncing on Chris’s dick, desperate for release… more specifically, his release inside of you. You didn’t have to say that you wanted it. Chris knew.

“You want me to cum, baby?” He asked, breathless. You nodded frantically, speeding your movements. Chris thrusted upwards, meeting you in the middle. Until he pumped you full of him with a curse; warm, deep and delicious cum flooded your insides.

Chris slipped out of you after he caught his breath. He asked you to sit down where he was sitting just moments before. He observed his cum dripping out of you, licking his lips. Ultimately deciding to use his fingers to bring you to your release. Two fingers on one hand worked on pushing his release deeper into your counter, while the fingers on his other hand rubbed wet circles on your clit. The sight itself could make you cum if you weren’t already about to. Your climax found you quickly, you saw white stars everywhere as you clenched around his fingers; helping his cum reach deeper than he ever thought it would. Chris pressed a kiss to your soaked cunt and slid your panties on.

“Not that I care if you drip on my car…” He justified. “I just like seeing you full…” He chuckled lightly, unserious. Chris leaned to kiss you in a reassuring way.

“So, what are we now?” You teased. “Friends, lovers or nothing?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to being friends.” He replied, chest rising and falling. “And I could never bear to be ‘nothing’ to you.”

“So, lovers it is?”

“If you want to, of course.”

You do.

Of course.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・

206 notes · View notes

girlwithadragonheart · 2 days ago

Text

Episodes Pt. 2

Eddie x Fem!Reader x Volt

Summary: There are multiple ways to help cramps when you're on your period. The boys are more than happy to help

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Endometriosis, chronic pain, fatigue, mood swings, SMUT, period sex, oral (f! receiving), fingering (vaginal and anal, f!receiving), spit play (light), praise, reader is called a good girl multiple times, p in v sex, unprotected sex, lube, slight hand job (Volt receiving, mostly teasing), anal (f!receiving), double creampie, aftercare, cuddles, swearing, let me know if I missed something important!

A/N: This is smut, I am not responsible for the media you consume. also I'm sorry this took sooooo long I got carried away with it. Okay that's it, enjoy!!

Episodes pt 1 Masterlist

Several days had passed, but your flow continued steadily no matter what you did or how much you continued to wallow in agony. Having two very attentive boyfriends was helpful, and as the days continued they learned more of the things that relieved your pain even if only by a little bit. Heating pads or hot water bottles, which medicine of yours was the best, and which clothes were the most comfortable. All without you having to ask, of course. It was in their nature to observe you and learn your ticks just as much as it was in yours for them.

Of course, you hated feeling like an inconvenience, and insisted on still coming to the bar every night to watch the show and help out where you could. You were on your period, not crippled—-even if it physically may feel that way at times. You could wipe down tables and put the chairs up, much to your boyfriends’ collective dismay. Nothing would stop them from telling you to rest, and likewise, nothing would stop you from not listening.

Whenever you caught a look from one of them you flashed your best and brightest smile. Only half of the time were you using it to hide a wince of pain.

You hated feeling like an inconvenience, but more than that, you hated feeling useless.

Volt had left momentarily to escort a particularly drunk patron to their place, ensuring they were safe, and Eddie had gone to the back to check stock. You were working on mopping the floor after picking all the chairs up and flipping them over the sides of tables.

You pulled your hair up into a loose bun, holding your hair tie between your teeth before wrapping it around your clusterfuck of hair in your hand. Moving around the bar, you grabbed the mop and got to work on the floor, ignoring the occasional twinge of pain in your abdomen.

Things were going swimmingly until you had a particularly painful cramp. It wasn’t even what did you in, honestly. It was when you doubled over and reached to brace yourself against a table that you knocked a loose chair with your shoulder. It went crashing to the ground, hitting the front of your thigh and the back of your calf. It didn’t even really hurt, it just sort of… startled you.

And you were fine, honest.

Until you glanced up, and your two boys were rushing toward you. You weren’t sure what made you tear up first. Maybe it was the hot flush of embarrassment that rose to your cheeks or frustration that this one thing didn’t go right, or you were simply having one of those days. Either way, the rush of tears that pooled to your eyes had Eddie rushing to your side.

“Shit, are you okay?” He didn’t seem like he quite knew what to do without you having any visible wounds.

A moment later, Volt’s hands were cradling your face, pulling your gaze up to his bright silver eyes. Eddie spoke again, inspecting you for any injury. “You should’ve let us handle it—“

Whether it was the sympathetic look that felt like pity from Volt or Eddie scolding you like a child, you physically pushed away from them both. “Fuck, I’m fine! It was just a stupid chair falling, nothing even happened!” You shouted with exasperation.

Volt recoiled in shock, but not Eddie. Likely from his time dealing with Volt’s more… electric personality. “We know that. We just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Eddie said quietly.

“I’m not,” you said harshly. “Everyone gets hurt sometimes. I’m fine.” Without another word, you replaced the fallen chair and moved across the room to finish mopping. You didn’t miss the glance the two shared as you stomped away.

Did they deserve your outburst? No, probably not.

Did it stop you from feeling the slightest satisfaction at seeing them pause their overreaction? Also no.

“Live wire…” Volt began.

“I’m fine. Leave it alone,” you huffed, swiping the mop back and forth across the floor and between table legs. You heard him sigh, and the smallest amount of regret began to twist in your gut. Not enough to make you any less headstrong. Just enough to twist the metaphorical knife.

When you were done, you brushed past the two of them, quietly chatting at the bar as Eddie wiped it down, and put your mop back in its place before removing the apron you had donned. Your remorse for lashing out had only grown in the tense silence of the empty bar. You really hadn’t meant it, only having been overwhelmed by the sudden attention while you tried to complete what was supposed to be a menial task.

You pulled the clip out of your hair, letting it tumble down loosely framing your face and removing the tension from having it up. With your clip secured to the bottom of your fantastic red shirt—if you did say so yourself—you made your way out to the bar.

The boys’ eyes were on you as you entered. Eddie behind the bar, and Volt leaning forward on it. You barely managed to give them a tired smile before sliding yourself in front of Volt, who quickly let you in. There was a low, “Hey!” of protest from Eddie as you jumped up to sit on the bar, but a glance back just revealed his flushed face. You smiled, gently gripping his throat to tilt his head up as you pressed a kiss to his soft lips, stubble scratching your jaw pleasantly.

You felt Volt’s hands gripping your wide thighs, his touch tingling like a live current. And yet you were the live wire here. As you pulled back from Eddie, lips warm and eyes lidded, he tried to follow you, but you turned to see Volt practically buzzing impatiently for his turn. Before you had the chance, his lips were on you, prying your mouth open for his tongue to sweep inside. Eddie groaned behind you, and you felt him pressed up against your back as he started kissing and sucking on your neck.

It was easy to relax back against Eddie’s chest as Volt’s mouth trailed wet hot kisses down your jaw and neck. “I’m sorry for being a bitch,” you said breathily as your eyelids fluttered, fighting to stay open through all the sensations around you.

Volt pulled back to look at you, his platinum eyes bright, “Apology accepted, live wire…” His fingers trailed deftly over your jaw before brushing down your neck, and you were sure he could feel your pulse spike under his touch. Eddie hummed in agreement, pulling his face away to tuck your hair behind your ear and ghosting his lips behind the shell of your ear.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He muttered huskily into your ear, one of his hands snaking to your front to rest on your lower belly. You instinctively sucked in, but he gave a grunt of disapproval, and you relaxed. The warmth of his touch eased some of the pain you hadn’t realized was still there.

You sighed with relief, your hand moving to rest over his as your body sagged against him. Volt’s hands had moved from your thighs to your hips, keeping your bottom half in place while Eddie supported your torso. The throbbing between your legs had momentarily distracted you from the pain radiating through your midsection.

“Spark?” Eddie prompted when you didn’t respond.

“Yeah. I’m alright, I promise.” As alright as you could be, anyway. You weren’t in any pain from your earlier stunt, but you were sure there would be small bruises in the morning. That was the last thing you were worried about—being sandwiched between the two hottest men you had ever seen, that is.

Despite your current predicament, however, lingering insecurities still ran beneath your skin like lightning in water. Insecurities created by past partners and the life of being born a woman. Insecurities that resurfaced as Volt’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your comfy pants. Faster than light, you tensed, gripping around his wrist to stop him.

Silver eyes met your wide, anxious expression quickly and with concern, “Forgive me, live wire, I shouldn’t have assumed,” he said quickly, seemingly with poise, though you could hear his nervousness beneath. Despite the obvious tent in his pants, he wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want him to.

You frowned, pulling your hand away, “No, I– it’s okay, I didn’t—” You stumbled over your words, huffing as your gaze traveled around the room rather than meet his.

Eddie’s thumb ran in soothing circles on your abdomen, “Take your time,” he mumbled into your skin, only for you to hear. “We can wait.”

The words helped you relax and take a deep breath. They didn’t want to take anything from you, and you knew that, despite your own past experiences. Volt’s hand fell back to your thigh, soothing over your skin up and down, warm and tingling with energy. Energy that you had helped restore to the both of them.

You sighed, your hand moving on its own and playing with the ends of Volt’s hair. Soft as downy feathers and just as weightless, but almost buzzing and faintly warm like the rest of him. It was mesmerizing to see drift over your skin, almost tickling your nerves.

“I’m still on my period,” you said, gaze flicking up to see his expression as you said it.

He was attentive and waiting, as though expecting you to say more. After a beat of awkward silence, you felt more than saw the boys exchange a glance. “Is that all?” Eddie asked.

“Isn’t that enough?”

“He didn’t mean to imply that it wasn’t, Spark, we would never—”

You cut Volt off, “It’s so… gross, and messy, and- and…”

Volt looked absolutely dumbfounded by your words. “Wait…” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Are you not?” You questioned.

“No,” the two replied simultaneously. You just looked between them—as best you could in this compromising position—completely speechless. For once, you had no idea what to say. You were just so used to guys shying away from you completely at any mention of it, you had no idea what to do now.

“I assure you, live wire, it will not deter us. It’s perfectly natural, after all,” Volt said, pressing close to you and nipping at your earlobe.

“I was worried we would hurt you or some shit,” Eddie admitted. “The research didn’t cover sex.”

“Research?” You blurted, twisting to look at him.

“What? It’s not like objects have them. I’m not completely sure if or how we could reproduce, so what was I supposed to do?” He shrugged, like it was nothing, face almost more flushed than yours. Almost.

You cleared your throat, turning back the way you were, still vaguely aware of Eddie’s warm hand on your stomach. Best to just get this out of the way, right? You put your hand over your eyes as you spoke, finding it easier to keep from embarrassing yourself further.

“It hurts more initially, I think, but I’ve heard orgasms are really good to soothe cramps, though I’m not sure how true that is, especially in my case, I think if it was you two, I would be willing to find out–” You quickly shut your mouth, face hot beneath your palm.

“I’ll say, Eddie, our little live wire is adorable when she’s flustered,” Volt purred over you. “Why don’t we move this little gathering upstairs, hmm?”

“Only if she’s okay with it,” Eddie said.

Gentle fingers wrapped around your wrist, and from the clink of metal coils, you knew it was Volt before he pulled your hand from your eyes. “How about it, Live wire?” You nodded shyly, and he gripped your jaw, “Ah-ah, words, darling.”

“Yes, Volt,” you muttered quietly.

“Good girl,” Volt smirked, and you whimpered quietly. Without another word, Volt lifted you bridal style into his arms, jacket long since discarded over one of the barstools. As the two of you rounded the bar to head toward the stairs, Eddie stepped in front of you.

Before either of you could react, Eddie reached past you, fist curling into the collar of Volt’s undershirt and dragging him with just enough force for him to comply, chuckling lowly as Eddie pressed their lips together. You practically moaned at the sight of your boyfriends eating each other’s tongues. One your hands wandered behind Volt’s neck, fingers tangling into his downy locks and giving a slight tug. A groan fell from Volt’s lips as the two disconnected, a thin line of spit connecting them.

Platinum eyes found yours as your cheeks flushed and thighs clenched with need. “Naughty…” Volt purred as you released your hand from his hair. Eddie caught your wrist as you removed it, and he pushed your hand back firmly with lidded steel eyes.

“Keep it there, live wire. He liked that,” Eddie muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple that was softly at odds with the rest of the situation.

Volt hummed. “Do indulge, little spark. I aim to please.” Something about his words or his voice or that gods damned accent had you tightening your fist in his hair the way he tightened his grip on the flesh of your thigh.

The unfair, painful tightening in your stomach made you wince as your lips turned down. Eddie tilted your chin toward him with a knowing, loving gaze that was reserved only for the two of you.

“When’s the last time you took something?” He asked.

“An hour ago,” you gritted out. “It should kick in soon, but I could really use a distraction,” you grinned weakly. Eddie and Volt shared a look and seconds later you were sitting on the edge of the bed, practically salivating as the two removed their vests, tossing them to the side somewhere.

Their eyes practically devoured you, Volt’s unnaturally bright, platinum tinged with blue, only shadowed by his downcast lashes, and Eddie’s steel gray that only seemed darker with lust. They were the perfect foils to each other in every way. Not quite one being, not quite two, somewhere in between. Both unequivocally and irrevocably in love with you.

Volt, always the first to reach for you, grabbed your hands and spun you around, your back to his chest. One of his hands moved to hold your belly, applying heat and a lovely tingly sensation that distracted from the pain and set your insides alive at the same time. His other drifted up and down your arm, just light enough to feel as goosebumps raised on your skin where he touched, a mix of static that put your hair on end and a ticklish sensation from his feather-light ministrations.

Eddie came to stand in front of you, tucking stray hair behind your ear in the way he often did to see your whole face. “What’s your word?” It was something he asked every time, no matter the activities that were about to take place or how gruelling they might be. It was his check in to make sure you were ready and okay before doing anything, and honestly, it was the sweetest thing ever despite the nature of the question.

“Circuit,” you said easily, reaching out to brush his cheek with the back of your hand, smiling fondly.

“Good,” he nodded, kneeling before you. The tent in his pants was obvious, and it must have been painful, but he did nothing about it as he lowered to the ground, holding your gaze all the while. You shivered under the intensity of it, hips pressing back into Volt as the man slipped his fingers under your waistband.

The white haired man grunted in your ear as he ground into you slowly, gently pushing away the loose fabric of your pants. When he got halfway, he dropped them into Eddie’s waiting hands, and he held them for you to step out of before tossing them to the side.

Eddie’s hands moved reverently up your legs—never mind that you hadn’t shaved, never mind that you felt like shit—making sure that you felt seen and heard and loved all the while. He leaned up with a smirk, pressing soft kisses to your belly before dragging your panties down with his teeth and letting them drop. Carefully, you stepped out of them, kicking them to the side as well.

Volt’s hands moved up under your shirt to squeeze and massage your breasts, paying extra attention to the places you reacted to most—as much as he could through your bra. After a moment of groping, he got impatient with the fabric, and lifted it. You put your arms up, letting him drag the shirt over your head and the fabric bra next. You whimpered as his hands moved back to your tender bosom, sore from your hormones.

“V- Volt…” you whimpered.

“Yes, live wire?” He purred in your ear, teasing his canines over the soft lobe.

Your breath left you in a whoosh of air as Eddie gripped your thighs, pulling one up over his broad shoulder to rest. “Eddie,” you said, barely over a whisper. His steel eyes were dark with lust as they flicked up to your face. “You don’t have to,” you said quietly.

He scoffed, practically rolling his eyes at the statement. “Please, you think a little blood is going to stop me from devouring you?” He looked directly at your mound in front of him as he spoke, as though talking directly to it as he licked his lips.

“That’s our Eddie for you, live wire. Look how eager he is,” Volt crooned in that low voice of his right beside your ear. You shivered, your body jolting as a startled moan erupted from your lips, Eddie wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking harshly. Your head jerked back, hitting Volt’s chest and shoulder as he continued to grope your chest.

Eddie’s tongue darted out, swiping a long stroke all the way up your slit, swirling the muscle around your pearl. You felt breathless, one hand gripping Volt’s forearm, the other darting to Eddie’s head as your hips ground needily into his face. “F- fuck…” you moaned.

Your hand tightened in the wires woven throughout Eddie’s hair, and he groaned, sending delicious vibrations through your whole being. “There you go, little wire. Use our Eddie for your pleasure, hmm?” Volt mumbled into your skin before sinking his teeth gently into the junction between your neck and shoulder and sucking a bruise into your skin. His free hand traveled over the planes of your body, groping your waist, your belly, your hips, and finally your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh before spreading your cheeks and slipping his middle finger between them.

You sucked in a breath at the unexpected intrusion. “Breathe, little spark. Good,” he praised as you did what he said. At the same time, Eddie sunk his first finger knuckle deep in your cunt, suckling at your clit. Your hand in his hair tightened, a ragged moan releasing from somewhere in your chest as you clenched around both of them. Eddie moved first, slowly pumping his finger in and out before adding his middle, slowly stretching you out. Volt slowly started doing the same as you relaxed into both of them.

“Such a good girl, you are spark,” Volt muttered, and you moaned, involuntarily clenching around Eddie’s fingers.

“Fuck, she liked that,” the dark haired man groaned.

Volt chuckled, and you felt that knot starting to tighten in your abdomen. No longer cramps, but something much more fulfilling. Something you were craving more than anything. Your mouth hung open as Eddie’s fingers curled into that spongy spot within your walls. You keened, your leg squeezing his shoulder as he hit it again and again, maintaining his ministrations on your clit.

“Oh, she’s so close,” Volt purred. “Look at him, feasting like a man starved,” Volt groaned, and you felt his hips shift, searching for some kind of release. You tried to look, really you did, but your head refused to move, too tense or too caught in the moment. Volt tsked, his hand moving to your hair at the base of your neck and tightening his fist, forcing your gaze down.

Steel eyes met yours, and he looked so beautiful. Tousled hair and lust darkened eyes. Face shining with your juices as he lapped eagerly at your cunt, fingers plunging in and out while his free hand gripped your thigh to stay grounded.

You felt that knot inside you shatter, a broken cry falling from your lips as you gushed around his fingers. Eddie pulled his face away, his thumb circling your clit, chest heaving for breath as he looked up at you, hard dick straining in his pants as he licked around his lips. A mixture of blood and cum covered his stubble, but he seemed far from caring about it.

You had almost forgotten Volt’s fingers buried in your ass until he pulled them from you at the same time Eddie removed his, and you whined from the sudden loss. Before you could recover from your high, Eddie was on his feet in front of you, shoving his fingers soaked with you into your mouth. The musk of your own taste and the metallic tang of blood rested heavily on your tongue as you obediently sucked his fingers clean.

He breathed heavily through his lips as he watched your mouth eagerly before Volt reached for him, dragging the dark haired man closer with a hand on the back of his head. Their lips met above you, all lips and tongue, soft moans falling from both of their mouths, the sight only making you pulse with need.

You continued to lick and suck on Eddie’s fingers as his free hand wrapped around the taller man’s throat, both pulling away for a moment, a line of spit connecting their lips. Volt opened his mouth, and Eddie smirked, spitting into it. Volt’s hair sparked as he groaned, swallowing greedily.

“Amp, you taste divine, live wire,” he groaned. You moaned around the other’s fingers before they were pulled from your mouth.

“Want a taste?” Eddie looked down at you, the way his thumb softly brushed your cheek contrasted heavily with what he was suggesting. Still, you nodded. “Ah ah,” he gripped your jaw lightly. “Say it.”

You let out a breath, your cheeks warm and mind dazed from your first orgasm. “I… I want to taste,” You said, albeit a bit breathlessly. You opened your mouth, tongue out to receive, proving you wanted it.

“Fuck…” Eddie groaned, pulling your face close to his before spitting into your mouth. You held it for only a moment before swallowing, sticking your tongue out for inspection. “Very good, little spark,” he brushed his thumb over your cheek lovingly. “Do you think you’re ready to take both of us?” he asked, a callused hand running over your soft skin and sending goosebumps all over your body.

It was hard to think with both of them touching you, teasing you, making you feel things you’d only ever heard about. You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling with every breath as four hands wandered your body.

“Yes… Please,” you begged, just wanting to feel them anywhere, everywhere you could.

You felt more than heard the rumble in Volt’s chest as your hips pressed back against his aching erection. You whined as Eddie started to pull away. He chuckled, and you felt the scratch of his stubble against your cheek as he pressed a kiss to it.

“Just a sec, live wire.” He moved to the end table next to the bed, pulling out a bottle of lube from the drawer.

Behind you, Volt was stripping the rest of his clothes. Having somewhat of an idea of what was coming next, you held your hand out. Eddie raised a brow at you before squeezing a generous amount of the lubricant in your palm. The moment Volt returned to his place, you reached behind you, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, hearing him hiss at the contact.

“Naughty,” he purred. You had been so focused on your task, you hadn’t noticed Eddie pouring some on Volt’s fingers until they circled your hole, pressing into you fast enough that your breath hitched. “Two can play that game, dear spark.”

Eddie was stripping down in front of you, and you moaned as he stroked lube over his own cock, heavy and leaking with need.

At the unspoken question in your eyes, he smiled. “Just a precaution. We want this to be as painless as possible for you.” His unoccupied hand tilted your chin up, pressing his lips to yours and tugging lightly on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Tonight is about you.”

“Just you,” Volt added as you opened your mouth to protest. “We want for nothing and we need nothing but to ensure our little live wire is happy and taken care of. Especially during this time for you,” he nuzzled his nose in your hair.

You slowly released his cock, looping your hand around his neck. “Okay,” you said quietly, finally admitting you needed help.

“I’m going to lift you, alright spark?” Volt warned you before hooking his arms behind your knees and pulling you up, your back to his chest with Eddie in front of you.

You were practically folded in half, and as Eddie stepped closer, your calves rested over his shoulders. He lined himself up with your entrance, hands gripping your ass to take half of your weight off Volt, leaning your lower half into his torso.

“Ready?” He asked, double checking.

You nodded.

“What’s the word?”

“Circuit.”

“Good girl.” He said the words like they meant nothing and everything, but you knew it was the acknowledgment he needed before pushing into your heat. Already you were squeezing him so tight, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.

“Take a breath and remember to relax darling,” Volt mumbled into your neck as he slowly lowered you onto his dick. You did your best, and after what felt like forever, they were both fully sheathed in your heat.

You had never felt so full in your life, your head hanging back against Volt’s shoulder, eyes rolled back and jaw slack as you moaned unabashedly into the hot air of the room.

“Oh, Amp, live wire you feel so incredible,” Volt moaned, thrusting shallowly into you. Eddie moved slowly, but thoroughly, making sure you felt every thrust and every inch of his cock as it nearly kissed your cervix with every thrust. “Fuck…” Volt groaned. “Eddie, I–”

“I know,” he grunted. “Me too.”

“Fuck, you’re amazing, spark. So good. So good for us, my little live wire,” Volt muttered nonsensically into your skin as he thrust his hips up into you. Between his words and fucked out voice, and Eddie’s pointed thrusts into your sweet spot, you were seeing spots.

Somehow, they pushed impossibly closer to each other, your knees now up to your chest, Eddie’s cock reaching impossibly deeper. A high pitched whine fell from your lips, both of your hands in the mass of energy that was Volt’s hair, tingling and warm, just enough to keep you grounded. It shocked you gently every time he groaned into your skin, sparking and moving as though it was alive.

Volt was the first to fall off the cliff, spilling deep within your walls. The sensation flooding you pushed you over next, moaning and calling their names as you ground your hips as best you could from this angle. Eddie grunted unintelligibly as your cunt squeezed him impossibly tighter, and his thrusts became erratic as he neared the edge, falling just as you started to near the end of your high, spilling into your womb.

Your body felt like jello, and the boys didn’t move for several minutes. After everyone caught their breath, they carefully adjusted, pulling out of you and leaving you feeling thoroughly empty as their spend dripped from your holes.

They moved you around so that you could wrap your legs around Eddie’s waist, his arms supporting you as Volt moved to get a cloth dampened with warm water. When the man returned, he slowly ran his hand over your back, easing the shock of the rag as he cleaned you up gently, hushing you as you whined.

“Alright, live wire,” Volt said softly. “What do you need before bed?” he asked.

You hummed, sleep trying to take over as your body finally relaxed, blessedly free of cramps for the first time in days. “Just my underwear is fine. The pad I put in less than an hour ago, it’ll be fine to sleep in.”

Volt retrieved the item as Eddie carefully set you on the edge of the bed. The white haired man knelt and helped you into the garment before falling into the bed behind you. You curled up on his chest, and Eddie pulled the blankets over the three of you before settling in with an arm around your waist from behind.

“We love you, Y/N. I hope you know that,” Volt said quietly, the soft use of your name bringing tears to your eyes.

“I love you too,” you whispered, not trusting your voice not to break at the sincerity of it all.

A/N: This is not proofread, so if you see any typos, no u didn't <3 I know a lot of you guys were waiting for this!!

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Tags: @hawke1917 @bhaalschosenbunny

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