#also what was touch grass about ? was that at me lol

[winteringdream]

TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME ──── kim woonhak

✩ ⋅ pairing. kim woonhak x gn!reader ✩ ⋅ genre. fluff, kinda angst ✩ ⋅ warnings. none! ✩ ⋅ wc. 1176 ✩ ⋅ a/n. completely inspired by take a chance with me by NIKI and also super self-indulgent lol

You would die for Kim Woonhak’s laugh. The kind of laugh you could recognise anywhere, anytime. A laugh that colours the sky. Woonhak has been by your side for as long as you can remember. He knows everything about you, except one thing. 

You’re in love with him. But, how could you tell that to someone who doesn’t even believe in love?

“Love is overrated.” Woonhak had said, as he popped a gummy worm into his mouth. He turned to you as he chewed on the gummy worm. “Don’t you think?”

The two of you were young back then, but his words never left your mind. Woonhak only cared about music. Music is the only thing he loves, his passion for it swirling behind his eyes. How you wish he would love you the way he loves music. 

You’re polar opposites. Woonhak is sunshine, bright and warm. You, on the other hand, are like the moon, cold and distant. You read him like a book, and he’s the clueless little kid. Always surprised that you know what he thinks even though it’s written all over his face. 

Even though you try your best, you can't help falling for him, you’re hopelessly captivated. What you would give for you to get your feet back on the ground and your head off the clouds. 

“Hey, you coming, y/n?”

Woonhak’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You blink up at him, the sunlight that had been warming up your face now blocked by his silhouette. He’s standing over you, casting a shadow.

The way he calls your name makes you only fall deeper and deeper, like you’d fade away somehow if he's too loud. His voice is soft and tender, only when calling out your name. 

“Where to?” you ask, shielding your eyes from the sun still peeking around his frame. You hope he can’t see the way you’re looking at him.

He grins, lazy and bright. “I don’t know. You've been lying there forever. Let’s go do something fun.”

Before you can answer, his hands wrap around your forearms, tugging you up. His touch sends a spark right through you, and you hate how easily it shows on your face. 

“You’re restless,” you say, brushing imaginary grass from your clothes just to avoid his gaze.

He shrugs, still holding your arms longer than he needs to. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to pull you up.”

Your heart stumbles, but he’s already walking ahead, like he hadn’t just said something that makes your head spin. 

It drives you crazy how he can look you dead in the eye and stay unaware. Can’t he feel the electricity between the two of you surging through the air? 

You always follow Woonhak into everything, pranks, jokes, anything. He glances back at you, carefree. Humming some tune under his breath. Probably a melody he’s working on.

You hate it.

You hate how he can look at you like that, with stars in his eyes, like nothing’s burning inside you. You hate how soft his laugh is when you accidentally hit your hand on the corner of the table and say something under your breath. You hate how your heart aches for him in a way that’s loud, and clear, and real.

“Why can’t we just say what we want?”

He stops walking and turns to look at you.

You’re already blinking back tears, and that only makes you angrier at him and at yourself. “Why can’t you just once disregard the world, and run toward what you know is real?”

He stares at you like you’ve just cracked open something sacred. “y/n…”

You shake your head, your voice trembling and your fists clenched at your sides. “Why can’t we for once just feel what we feel and say it out loud? Why do we pretend like we don’t see it? Why do you keep pretending like you don’t feel it?”

Your chest is rising and falling too fast. The words are catching in your throat.

“I hear your heart, Woonhak. I’ve heard it a thousand times, even when we’re not touching, even across the room. I see right through you.”

He doesn’t move or speak, but his eyes are soft and locked on you. He looks at you like you’re his whole world. 

The tears you’ve been holding back fall from your eyes, down your cheeks and onto the ground. You’re angry at yourself for loving someone who looks you in the eye every day like you’re the sun, but never says it out loud.

“Why are you crying?” he says softly. His voice is quiet and gentle in a way that only makes it worse.

You almost laugh, but your voice breaks. “Because it’s killing me. I’m so tired of pretending that this isn’t real.”

Then he steps forward, slowly. Like you’re a bird he’s afraid to startle. He hesitantly reaches for your hand, and you don’t pull away. His palm is warm against yours, and his heart is still beating loudly. You can feel it just by standing near him.

“I’m scared,” he says. “Because if I say it out loud it becomes real. And real things can fall apart.”

You look up, through the blur of your tears.

“Not if you stop running from them.” You whisper, “We can still try.” 

He swallows and his grip on your hand tightens. You see the hesitation in his eyes, but there’s also something else. 

Your fingers are still tangled in his, and neither of you moves. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” Woonhak says quietly.  “I’ve spent so long convincing myself that love wasn’t for me.”

You shake your head, a small, sad smile on your lips. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but I know you, Woonhak. I see the way you care. The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says. “If we try and it doesn’t work–”

“But what if it does?”

You feel his fingers tremble slightly in yours.

Then, softly, he brings your joined hands to his chest and presses them against the place where his heart is beating so fast, so loud, you’re sure the whole world could hear it if they only tried.

“You’ve always felt like home,” He whispers.

You squeeze his hands gently. “Then stay,” You whisper. 

“I will,” He murmurs. 

He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, and he looks at you again with that soft and loving look he has had on his face for a long time now. 

“So what now?”

“Now?” he echoes. “Now I take a leap.”

And slowly, carefully, he leans in. Not too fast or  bold. Just enough for you to meet him halfway. Your forehead touches his.

He smiles and his heartbeat still pounds against your joined hands. The two of you can feel it. The quiet, electric current that’s always existed between you.

This is real.

And he’s not running anymore.

bonedo taglist: @ihruaz @tmrwsuns @lakoya

[sideblogdotjpeg]

ive been thinking about the red string superstition recently and also sol bufo always and it makes me sick how uncannily caldwell tanner has made sol to perfectly target me personally

(+ cropped versions !)

[narfin-frood]

hello again! thanks for the clarification abt sylvia... now i'm curious about how the whole turning point from 'evil' to 'good' is going to go down. if hater and peepers still have the same traits of personality as in show, just their moral compass flipped... touch grass lmao

i was wondering if you won't mind fics/stories inspired by your au, but somewhat divergent? my brain got away from myself and i already imagined an so many stories for everyone involved that doesn't really fit your interpretation

also as a heads-up, i was inspired by that one comic abt stalking-planets and did some color studies/environment sketches w planet yonder following around mr. meteor and peepers in different locations. i was thinking of posting and tagging you in it, but saw in the tags that this was an old fear and didn't want to do anything you would be uncomfortable with

no pressure if the answer is no for any of those!! wanted to ask just in case

hope you're having a good day! thanks for sharing your art and au with us (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

hello! and it's not really that they're "evil" or "good", it's more about swapping their roles in the story, like how i'd personally go about making hater and peepers the protagonists without turning them into completely different people & vice versa with their foils.

obv they're not exactly the same people they are in canon, because their circumstances are way different, and they've ended up in different places because of them, but like. their core traits are the same. because i dont wanna shave off any of the things that make wander wander or sylvia sylvia. idk, i'm just doing this for fun, at the end of the day, so whatever interpretation people have for them or any part of this story is up to them, so long as they're having fun doing it.

and i don't mind fics or art at all! in fact i would be thrilled to read and see anything and everything you come up with because i think that's SO cool and art is awesomes and art is forever. ill say it forever i think taking inspiration is literally integral to making art whether u get it from the world u perceive around you or from the other things people make Its unavoidable and its beautiful #anyway

and the megalophobia thing isn't that serious, it makes me uncomfortable to see/be under/be within big things In Real Life but in art i just admire when people can go into the sheer scale of things . i'm a horror fan, so when i see things that specifically freak me out, its cooler? because the things that scare me are like soooo specific and i rarely see people nail them. if that makes sense. so by all means post & tag me in ur scary art about big planets

[fandom-blahs]

This is a bit of a stretch...

I sometimes wonder whether the "ughh why is fandom more puritan" is because fandoms online are no longer concentrated in Western countries and now encompass a lot of conservative countries who naturally will have a lot of conservative fans and they're uncomfortable with sexual media because...it's just...not a thing in a few countries and Westerners are seen as perverted in certain countries and now fans are putting it in English.

Don't get me wrong I still think the way tumblr shaped up fandom spaces over the past 10+ years is def more responsible but I've run into a specific kind of "ew sex" feels like a cultural knee jerk and people try to use the Accepted Social Media terms while lowkey bringing up their culture but to Westerners it just comes off as Woke and progressive instead of a conservative backlash.

[hootispootis]

[rainbowbeanstyles]

.

[rafesangelita]

♡ when farmer’s!daughter!reader’s father goes out of town to visit some family, her and cowboy!rafe can’t keep their hands to themselves any longer.

warnings: reader is a little bit on the shy side, flirty banter, use of petnames, implied age gap (rafe is 7-10 years older), hint of jealous!rafe, reader refers to her father as ‘daddy’, mentions of sneaking around, slowburn (kinda?), lotsss of sexual tension, fluff, mutual pining, oral (f. receiving), fingering, finger sucking, unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, cream pie, squirting, multiple orgasms

a/n: based loosely off of the moodboard + headcanons i wrote here <3 saddle up because this is a long one lol

wc: 4.8k

“you gonna keep staring at me or are you gonna help me out here?” rafe grunted, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he watched you blink away from his form. you looked up from his shirtless figure, his skin glistening with sweat as butterflies fluttered in your chest. “what do you need?” you chirped, blinking rapidly as if to shake away the thoughts of pressing wet kisses to his waistline. “a cold glass of water sounds good right now.” you obliged, rafe watching as you went up the porch stairs in your cute little boots, his eyes falling down to your backside. “fuck.” he muttered to himself.

if he knew he’d have to fight the urge to touch his boss’s pretty daughter, he would’ve hesitated in taking the job. eight months had felt like an eternity when you pranced around the farm in the prettiest dresses and shortest daisy duke shorts he’s ever seen. you came back with a glass of water, taking a sip before handing it to him. expecting rafe to turn the glass around to take a drink from the other side of the rim, your cheeks heated when he placed his mouth on the same spot your lips were on just moments ago. “thanks, sweetheart.” rafe shot you a wink, his charm making you look away shyly.

you plopped down on a nearby tree stump, a pout taking over your features as you looked at the empty driveway. your father had only been gone for a few hours, not nearly making a dent in the five days he’ll be away. “you don’t have to worry about him, y’know? he’s a strong man.” rafe decided he needed a break from being hunched over under the hood of his truck, his chest rising and falling as he took a seat on the bed of fluffy grass next to you. “i know..” you muttered, “it’s just— he’s so much older now, i worry about him.” you looked down at rafe, his eyes already trained on you.

rafe nodded. “that man can survive anything. wasn’t he in his truck when a tornado came and swept him off the ground?” you gasped, a laugh escaping your lips. “he told you that story?!” you squealed excitedly, your reaction making rafe melt into a puddle of nothing. you were too cute. “did he also tell you the part where that didn’t really happen? him and his buddy just got real close to it.” rafe’s face morphed into one of pure shock. “he lied?!” you threw your head back in laughter, a snort following shortly after. it was rafe’s turn to laugh, the sound unfamiliar to his ears.

“oh my god, excuse me. i can’t believe i just did that!” you clasped a hand over your mouth, embarrassment creeping up onto your face. the man next to you waved you off. “why would he lie about that?” rafe leaned back on his hands, giving you a full view of his chiseled abs. sighing dreamily, you shrugged. “he’s a drama queen sometimes, he likes the theatrics.” realizing that you just swooned over his muscles, rafe cleared his throat before getting back to work. he respected your father too much to give in to his filthy desires, or so he hoped.

swallowing the lump of rejection in your throat, you made your way inside where you decided to watch him from your bedroom window instead. your infatuation with this man only grew by the day, and it was becoming really hard to hide your adoration for him. all the times he slipped you a little wink when your father wasn’t looking, the playing of footsies under the table while your father ranted about the economy, the lingering stares and touches.. you weren’t crazy, you had every right to believe this man was interested in you in some way, shape, or form.

apart of you wanted to believe that rafe was trying to maintain in being a gentleman towards you, but there’s nothing you wanted more than for him to hold off all kind of honor and respect for you while he takes you however he wants. you daydreamed about being fucked in a headlock by him, along with being put into twenty other positions. letting out a sigh, you fell back on your bed, fiddling with the ribbon that was tied to the belt loop of your shorts. how on earth were you going to go about these next few days all alone with him?

night time rolled around, and rafe had just come inside for a shower. “are you hungry?” you watched as he rolled his shoulders back, cracking his neck to release some pressure of today’s labor. “yeah, but i’ll help myself. don’t worry about it, ‘sugar.” he groaned before shutting the bathroom door behind him. you knew he wouldn’t, days like this always ended in rafe knocking out as soon as he hit his bed, empty stomach or not. the only thing rafe could think about as the hot water pattered against his back, was how you were in the same house as him in nothing but a night dress.

he wondered if you’d let him hike it up your thighs.. if you’d allow him to slip his fingers underneath the soft material. so badly, he wanted to see your face twist in pleasure underneath him, he ached to see that day. rafe let out a shuddering breath, swallowing thickly as lewd images of you ran through his head. he imagined your hands trailing down his torso, those cherry red painted fingers of yours wrapped tightly around his cock. you had this man questioning everything he ever knew about being a gentlman. rafe rubbed the sides of his face, his eyes screwing shut as he attempted to get all inappropriate thoughts about you out of his head.

he remembered seeing you for the first time all those months ago. you were wearing a red gingham dress, your hair styled so pretty and neat. he knew immediately that he was in trouble when you flashed him that million dollar smile when your father introduced you two. it wasn’t long before both of you started flirting with each other, even going as far as touching each other when you didn’t have to. rafe would ‘help’ you up on your horse, his hands planted on the globes of your ass as he hoisted you onto the saddle. he swore he died and came back to life whenever you’d place a hand on him every time he made you laugh.

slowly but surely, you two were getting more bolder with your moves. while rafe was ogling your goodies more often than not, you started leaving your curtains open whenever you’d change, knowing he could see you from the view of his window. pinching the bridge of his nose, rafe quickly hurried up in the shower, feeling the need to relieve himself in his own space where he knew you’d be far away from. after washing away all the dirt and grime, he felt clean as he dried himself off, only for his peace to come crashing down when he realized he didn’t bring an extra change of clothes with him.

with no other choice but to walk out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he tried to sneak pass you in the kitchen and out the back door, but of course he wasn’t so lucky. “i know you said you would make yourself something, but—” you turned around with a loaded dinner plate in your hand, the dish nearly slipping out of your grip when you saw the tall cowboy standing awkwardly with his hands on his hips.

your eyes trailed down his stomach, the sight of his happy trail making you swallow thickly. rafe took note of this, his heart beating in his chest as you averted your gaze elsewhere. “uhm, well i made you this.. i know it’s one of your favorites..” you placed the plate of steak and mashed potatoes on the table, turning around as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. this was absolute torture. “it looks amazing, i’ll just get some clothes on and be right back.” he held onto the towel, jogging to his place where he slipped on a pair of pajama pants and a dingy white t-shirt.

“you didn’t have to do this,” rafe took a seat at the table, his jaw ticking when you bent over the counter to grab a couple of drinking glasses, “thank you.” at this point he didn’t know if he was thanking you for the food, or the perfect view of your ass. “water?” you looked at him from over your shoulder, your cheeks heating when you saw his eyes shoot away from your backside. “a beer please.” you smiled at his answer. you should’ve known he’d pick that out after a full day of work. grabbing a bottle from the fridge, you handed it to him, his fingers brushing yours as you took a seat across from him.

“my dad makes it a lot better than i do, so—” rafe was quick to cut you off, a moan leaving his lips as he chewed. “this is.. damn!” you giggled, shaking your head. “it’s great, darlin’. truly.” he nodded approvingly, flashing you a thumbs up. you smiled that smile of yours before tasting it yourself. despite all the tension between you two, you could always count on each other to talk the other’s ear off. “wait. so you’re telling me that you’re actually from an island? why on earth would you live out in the middle of nowhere when you had the beach in your backyard?” you asked incredulously.

rafe took a swig from his beer, a bittersweet laugh leaving his lips. “i got into a ‘lotta bad shit over there. i was on some bad shit,” he sighed, “being out here brings me peace.. even if i’m breaking my back everyday.” you listened closely, giving him your full attention as he told you more about the place he was from. you learned that he used to be a filthy rich boy with a house bigger than you could ever imagine. rafe smiled softly, a solemn expression taking over his features. “it’s very nice. but i wouldn’t go back.” he leaned back in his chair.

you tilted your head at him, both of your plates empty. “no? how come?” you leaned forward, your cleavage peeking out of your neckline. eyes flickering down to your chest, rafe seemed to get flustered when he felt your foot trail up his leg. “well,” he zeroed in on your lips, “i see myself settling down out here, ‘havin some little ones.” your breath hitched, a smidge of jealousy now residing in your gut. as if he could read your mind, he caught your foot under the table, his thumb stroking your ankle. “old habits seem to die hard, huh?” rafe laughed.

pushing away the jealousy, you nodded, feeling a new profound sense of confidence with the way he was looking at you right now. “yeah, i guess i forgot we’re here all by ourselves.. ‘don’t really have to hide from anyone..” you yawned, your head falling back on your chair as your night gown rode up your thighs. just a few inches higher, and rafe would finally see what he’s been fantasizing about all this time. “yeah..” he crossed his arms, his biceps looking especially good right now. you two stayed quiet, just looking at each other as if everything was threatening to rise to the surface.

do something! you thought to yourself, hoping rafe could magically hear you and grab you from across the table. instead, he looked away, letting go of your foot before scooting out from the table. “dinner was really good, but i better head off to bed, now.” he didn’t let you say anything before he left in a haste. what. the. fuck. you got up, watching him curse to himself from the kitchen window. you couldn’t help but feel defeated. rafe was always the one pulling away from you, no matter how close you two got, he always left you high and dry.

once you cleaned everything up, and you were left lying by yourself in your bed, you decided everything would change. if he pulled away from you, surely you should do the same.

you woke up the next morning to the sound of rafe’s truck engine roaring to life. rubbing your eyes, you shielded your face from the morning sun, deciding to get your day started as soon as possible. within an hour, you were stepping outside, walking over to where rafe was smiling brightly behind the steering wheel. “i got it working, sweetheart! should we go for a ride?” damn him, he knew how much you loved to be passenger princess in his two seater-beater. you cleared your throat, already hating yourself as you said no. “i don’t think so.. i got a lot of stuff to do today.”

rafe watched you go back in the house, his jaw ticking in response. the only thing you had to do today was sit and look pretty. not to mention, for as long as rafe has been here, you never, ever, rejected going on a little drive with him. that’s how he immediately knew something wasn’t right, and he’d bet all of his money that it had something to do with last night. taking the keys out of the ignition, rafe decided that if you weren’t going to go for a ride with him, then he wasn’t going either. considering he did everything he needed to do yesterday, rafe settled for going inside to tidy up his place.

you walked around the house aimlessly, a book in your hand as you kept glancing outside to see if you could spot rafe anywhere. you didn’t. letting out a groan, you looked at the clock on the wall. it was already half past noon. you debated on whether or not you should take him some lunch, your leg bouncing as you tried to weigh out your options here. on one hand, you could bring rafe lunch, try to talk some stuff out, and on the other hand, you could just leave things be like you promised yourself you would. you knew rafe wasn’t stupid, surely he’d catch on to you soon.

just as you decided against bothering him, there was a knock at the front door. eyebrows knitting in confusion, you opened the door to see your childhood best friend, wyatt. “wyatt!” you squealed, throwing your arms around him as he pulled you close to him by your waist. “oh my, lord! when did you come back from the city?!” you welcomed him in, motioning for him to come inside. “i just finished my second semester, so i’ll be in town for a while. i drove out here just last night, ‘decided to surprise my folks.” he smiled, his expression softening once you urged him to take a seat at the kitchen table.

“i didn’t see your old man’s truck out front..” he sat down, taking his hat off and placing it on the table. “oh, yeah.. he’s out of town visiting my aunt.” you leaned back on the counter, your eyes flickering at his hair. he looked so much different now. “wow, you’re uh— you look really good.” you complimented. “yeah, i’m not lanky anymore,” wyatt laughed, “you look gorgeous as always, though.” his gaze ran down your dress, the sight of your bare thighs making him clear his throat. “well, i didn’t just want to come by and say hi, i actually wanted to ask you something—”

rafe barged in before wyatt could finish his sentence.

“who’s this?” he stared between you two, the jealousy in his blue eyes very, very evident. you smiled innocently as wyatt got up, extending a hand for rafe to shake. “hello, sir. i’m an old friend of y/n’s here, ‘was just coming to visit her.” rafe looked down at wyatt’s palm, keeping both of his hands tucked in his pockets. “well, you two might wanna hurry this up, y/n’s father doesn’t know about any visitors coming to his home.” rafe walked around him, opening the fridge for a beer. “daddy isn’t home though, isn’t he?” you spoke up, in which rafe turned around. “what was that?” he asked.

you two were glaring at each other now. “my dad isn’t here,” you repeated, “and besides, he knows wyatt. ‘thinks of him as a son, right?” rafe’s grip on his beer bottle tightened, a smile playing on his lips when he glanced over at your friend. “yeah.” wyatt nodded. rafe was seeing red, he couldn’t stand to look at you and wyatt standing so close to each other any longer. turning around, rafe listened in as wyatt asked to take you out to dinner. “aw, i would love to! what time should i be ready?”rafe shut his eyes momentarily. you said yes to wyatt too fast for his liking. “how does eight o’clock sound?”

you hummed, nodding excitedly as wyatt made his way to the front door. “alright, it’s a date then. see ‘ya!” you waved at him until his truck disappeared down the dirt road. walking back into the kitchen, rafe was staring you down as you acted like you didn’t just agree to go on a date in front of him. “what do you think you’re playing at?” he narrowed his eyes at you. “if you’re acting out because of last night—” you cut him off. “don’t talk about me ‘acting out’ when you’re the one who decided to run back to your little shed when i was giving you an open opportunity.” you cut in.

“an open opportunity to do what?” rafe’s voice was firm as he stepped closer to you, his beer long forgotten on the counter as he gripped your arm. you failed miserably at trying not to look down at his lips. “it doesn’t even matter now. you obviously don’t want it,” you softened, “don’t want me..” rafe couldn’t believe his ears. you were all that this man thought about. he woke up thinking of what pretty outfit you would wear for the day, and went to sleep wishing you were by his side. “don’t want you?” he repeated, loosening his grip on your skin. “you just have no fucking clue.” rafe stepped back.

“you’re the only thing that i want.” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head as he made his way outside to the back house. you stared at him in shock. all this time you wondered if something was wrong with you because he never made a real move to pursue you, but now all of a sudden after you agree to go on a date he wants to express how he feels? and has the nerve to walk off right after? fuck that. you pushed the back door open, the old wood slamming back against the house as rafe spun around on his heels. “so why do you walk away from me?!” you shouted, both of your chests rising and falling.

“what are you talking about?” you stepped down the stairs, shoving rafe in the chest. “why do you leave every time things start to go somewhere?” his eyes bore into yours, “i’m sick of this game of cat and mouse. have you ever thought that maybe i want you too?” those were the words rafe needed to hear before he cupped your face and dragged you off your feet. his lips were soft against your own, his calloused hands pulling you close to him as your arms wrapped around his neck. he groaned at the taste of you, his tongue slipping in your mouth before you could process what was happening.

rafe kissed you hard and slow, as if to savor you before he led you two to his place, the door barely shutting before he had you pinned to his neatly made bed. “i’ve wanted you the moment your father introduced us, that’s the truth.” he slotted himself between your thighs, cupping your tits through your dress. you moaned, his hips grinding against your clothed cunt. “why would you wait all this time then?” you whimpered when he started pressing kisses to the curve of your neck, his calloused hands feeling you up as they roamed your soft flesh. “well for starters, i have a lot of respect for your pops..”

you sighed, completely forgetting about the old man. “and?” rafe pulled the straps of your dress down until the material pooled at your waist. leaning back on his heels, rafe marveled at the sight of your bare chest, your tits looking more perfect than he imagined. “..and right now, all the respect i have is going out the door.” you cried out when he leaned down, his lips wrapping around a sensitive bud while he used his other hand to snake beneath the waistband of your panties. you blinked up at the ceiling, your hips bucking when you felt his rough fingers stroke your clit.

“that feels so good, ray.” you keened, the weight of his body providing you a sense of safety and comfort. rafe felt like he was under a spell. with your sweet voice in his ear, and his fingers working to get you soaked and ready for him, he couldn’t wait to taste you any longer. pulling away from you, rafe slid your dress and underwears off in one swift motion, a shiver running down your spine when he slowly spread your thighs apart. “you’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” he licked his lips, glancing up at your heated face. your heart bloomed in your chest, your hand finding his cheek.

“please. i’ve wanted this for eight months.” you confessed, your words sending rafe into overdrive. without another thought, rafe took your thighs and placed them on his shoulders, delving into your wetness with a groan. instinctively, your back arched up from his bed, your hands flying to rest on top of his own. you squeezed his fingers, a string of babbles falling from your lips as rafe’s tongue flicked against your sensitive bundle of nerves. rafe watched as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyebrows knitting together as pure bliss etched itself onto your face.

“you okay?” rafe pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, wanting to make sure it wasn’t too much for you before continuing. “mhmm, yes!” you looked down, the image of rafe’s chin, lips, and even the tip of his nose glistening with your slick was now forever ingrained in your brain. smiling to himself, rafe got back to work, but this time with his fingers prodding at your entrance. “might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but i promise it’ll feel so good, baby.” you nodded, putting all your trust in him before you felt the delicious stretch of his digits inside your cunt.

“fuck!” you squealed, your thighs threatening to snap shut around his head. rafe curled his digits, your eyes screwing shut as he continuously pressed that soft spot inside of you. rafe didn’t stop his skillful movements on your clit, an unfamiliar feeling starting to swirl in your core. rafe cursed at the wet sounds emitting from your pussy, his cock hard and aching to get inside of you already. you gasped when he kept suckling on your sensitive bud, your stomach caving in when he pressed a hand to your tummy. before you could think, white hot pleasure blinded your vision, your entire body jolting as the first wave of your orgasm washed over you.

rafe felt the way you pulsed around his digits, wishing so badly that it was his cock instead. eyes flickering up to your face, he groaned when he saw the way your face twisted in pure bliss, your legs shaking as you felt the sudden urge to pull away from him. “rafe, wait!” you cried out, a sob ripping itself from your throat when a stream of wetness suddenly soaked rafe’s chin, your decadence streaming down his neck as he moaned against your cunt. you stared down at him with wide eyes, your mouth parting in suprise when he slipped his digits in his mouth.

“i- i don’t know what that was!” you gasped, cheeks heating in embarrassment. licking a final stripe up your folds, rafe smiled as he shook his head. “you just squirted, baby, get used to it.” his length rested on top of your tummy, hot and heavy, as he threaded his fingers with yours. “gonna fuck you until you’re carrying my baby..” your heart swelled, recalling his words from last night. “were you talking about me? when you said you wanted little ones..” rafe looked into your eyes, the sincerity in his gaze making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. “you’re the only woman i envision. future and present.”

cupping his face softly, you brought his lips down to meet your own, the head of his cock slipping into your entrance. you let out a shuddering breath, nodding slowly as he pushed the rest of his length inside your greedy walls. you swore you died and went to heaven when he starting rocking into you, both of you moaning in unison. “rafe?” you whimpered, gazing up at him with teary eyes, “shit— yeah, sweetheart?” the man on top of you thumbed your chin, a concerned expression taking over his features. you could tell rafe was holding back with the way he was hesitating with every thrust.

“harder, please.” you asked sweetly, rafe obliging without another thought. soon, you were a crying mess, your eyes barely staying open as rafe put you in a mating press. he was already reaching new depths in regular missionary, so when he placed your legs over his shoulders and caged you between his arms, you were hysterical as his tip kissed your cervix. “oh, god!” you screamed, your nails digging into rafe’s skin as he fucked you stupid. “can’t..” you shook your head, the feeling of his cock filling you to the hilt was increasingly becoming too much to handle.

"yes you can, sugar. look how good you're taking it all.." rafe cradled your head, making you look down at where you two were connected. you moaned at the sight, his cock shining with your slick. rafe kept his hands beneath your head, kissing you softly as his pubic bone began hitting your clit. “m’gonna make you the prettiest mommy this town has ever seen, just watch.” he chuckled, his forehead falling in the curve of your neck. you ran your fingers across his buzzed scalp, the word ‘promise?’ lingering on your tongue. “is that what you want? ‘want me to breed you until you’re all pretty and round?”

you cried out, rafe’s hips stuttering as he felt his climax creeping up on him. “yes, yes, yes—” you repeated yourself like a broken record, rafe’s name falling from your lips like a mantra. “oh, fuck!” he cursed, teeth grazing your flesh as he spilled into you, your second orgasm making you squeeze around him like a vice. rafe stilled, making sure to keep stroking your clit so he could draw out your high for as long as possible. slipping his thumb in your mouth, you shamelessly sucked on the digit as you trembled beneath him, his hot load filling you up.

you two stayed panting against each other’s mouths until your highs subsided, a light sheen of sweat coating both of your skin’s. pulling out with a grunt, rafe rolled over, pulling you with him so he could spoon you. letting out a sigh, you reveled in the warm sun streaming through his window, the light casting off of your face and illuminating the walls. “that was worth the wait, don’t you think?” if it wasn’t for the feeling of your limbs being jelly, you would’ve turned around and landed a playful smack to his chest. instead, you hummed, your eyes heavy with sleep. “we’re not keeping this from my father, rafe.”

your voice was hoarse as you spoke. “no. no, we’re not.” he kissed your shoulder. “you should probably give that guy wayne a call, ‘tell him you’re not going on that date after all.” you giggled, a shiver going down your spine as his large palm rubbed circles into your back. “wyatt, rafe. his name is wyatt. i only told him yes to rile you up.” you teased. rafe knew that, but it still pissed him off nonetheless. “i’ll cancel in a minute, ‘sir.” you used wyatt’s formalities towards rafe earlier against him, earning you a light pinch to your side. “that asshole. ‘really called me sir as if i’m that old.” he shook his head, waiting for you to disagree.

“well..” you trailed off, bursting into laughter when he attacked you with sloppy kisses.

[ducktoo]

Again

IVE’s Jang Wonyoung x M!Reader

Note: I have resorted to the sacred prompt list by Anon again….this helped me so much frrr. Hope you will post your first ever fic here so I can tagged you!!

This concludes the unofficial (or official ig) IZ*ONE marathon. @hyeyulenjoyer hope this was a fun ride for you. And thank you everyone for enjoying these fics as well! Also appreciate IVE for paying respect to the recent tragedy. All the dumb haters who find ways to hate them again....just touch grass pls.

(this was the perfect picture for this fic lol)

The tickets sit on your desk, undisturbed, their glossy surface catching the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You don’t even need to read the text printed on them anymore. The details are already burned into your brain.

A fan sign.

It was supposed to be special. The kind of thing you looked forward to for weeks, marked on your calendar with a little star. You were supposed to show up, tease her about messing up choreography, make her laugh in the middle of a serious performance, see that look in her eyes that was just for you.

Now, the tickets feel like a joke.

Your phone is face-down beside them, dark screen hiding the messages you haven't opened yet—the well-meaning texts from friends, the casual work notifications. All messages except from her.

Wonyoung.

You close your eyes, but it doesn't help. The memory of your last call with her is still fresh, the words playing over and over like a song stuck on repeat.

"I just don’t have time for this anymore."

"For us, you mean?"

"Mhm."

The way she said it—calm, measured, like it was just another item to tick off on her to-do list—had made something inside you crack. There had been no anger in her voice. No hesitation.

That…hurt more than anything.

You had wanted to say something, anything to make her stop. To remind her of the nights spent whispering over the phone until she fell asleep, of the rare moments when she let herself be vulnerable with you, of the way she would light up the second she saw you waiting for her backstage to take her to eat a whole cow together.

But you couldn't mutter a voice.

You had just sat there, phone pressed to your ear, fingers gripping the fabric of your hoodie so tightly it threatened to tear.

And then, just like that, she was gone.

It was three days ago.

Three days of checking your phone too often. Three days of convincing yourself you were fine. Three days of staring at these damn tickets on the desk and trying to figure out why you hadn’t just thrown them away. You should sell them. Give them to someone who’d actually enjoy them.

But something stops you.

Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s stubbornness. Maybe it’s the stupid, lingering part of you that refuses to admit that she’s really gone. Whatever the reason, you find yourself gripping them tighter instead of throwing them away.

You decided that you will go.

Not for her. Not to see her.

Just so you don’t have to sit in this room, drowning in thoughts of what used to be.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

-

The venue is packed.

Fans shuffle forward in line, their chatter buzzing in the air like static. Excited whispers, rustling light sticks, the occasional squeal when a favourite member’s name is mentioned.

Your fingers tighten around the album in your hands. (Ironically you still hold onto her album)

This is normal for them. For the fans around you, this is just another fan sign. A chance to meet their idols, to share fleeting moments, to walk away with a signature and a memory they’ll cherish for years.

You should feel the same. Instead, you’re just… tired. Who could blame you, you’re about to come face-to-face with your ex-girlfriend.

And she has no idea you’re here.

Your grip on the album tightens as the line inches forward. The first few members greet you with polite smiles, their voices light and bubbly. You do your best to respond normally, but your mind is elsewhere, trapped in the inevitable moment that keeps creeping closer and closer.

You don’t need to look up to know she’s at the end of the table. You can feel her presence.

And then, suddenly, there’s no more time left.

Your album slides across the table. Long, slender fingers stop it in place.

There’s a small pause—so brief that no one else seems to notice—but you do. You feel it in the slight delay before she looks up, in the way her fingers tighten just a fraction around the album’s edge.

And then her eyes meet yours.

She looks the same. Flawless, as always. Every strand of hair perfectly in place, makeup soft and ethereal under the bright overhead lights. And those sparkly eyes that you often got lost in.

But…she’s not yours anymore. Not at all.

There was a flicker of something—recognition, surprise, something deeper—crosses her face. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a carefully neutral expression.

Her lips part slightly, but no words come out at first. Then…

“Hey.”

It’s awkward. Too awkward. You can feel the tension hanging between you, thick and suffocating.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your chest tightens. “Hey.”

For a split second, she looks like she wants to say something else. Like she wants to break the script, ignore the rehearsed greetings and practiced smiles.

But then—

She doesn’t.

Instead, she picks up her pen, the mask slipping back into place. Her expression evens out, and in a voice so perfectly professional it almost stings, she says,

“Thanks for coming.”

Just like she would to any other fan. That made your stomach twists.

You should’ve known. Of course, she wouldn't acknowledge it. Not here. Not in front of all these people.

Still, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Would’ve been a waste of money if I didn’t.”

Something flickers across her face, but it’s gone before you can catch it. She presses her lips together, nodding slightly. “Right. Can’t have that.”

She signs her name, her handwriting as neat and practiced as always. But there’s a hesitance in the way she moves, a slight delay before she lifts the pen from the page.

When she finally pushes the album back toward you, her fingers linger just a second longer than necessary.

Then, in a voice so quiet that only you can hear…

“Take care, okay?”

She’s looking at you now. Really looking at you.

And for a moment, just one fleeting moment, she’s not the Jang Wonyoung, the IT girl, the global superstar.

She’s just…Wonyoung.

The girl who used to call you late at night just to hear your voice.

The girl who used to lace her fingers through yours under the table when no one was looking.

The girl who told you she didn’t have time for you anymore.

You stare at her.

The words stick to your throat. You genuinely don’t trust yourself to say anything.

So you just…don’t.

You just take the album, stand up, and walk away. And even as you disappear into the crowd, you can still feel her eyes on you.

-

You’ve been doing fine.

Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

It’s been a few days since the fan sign, and you’ve buried yourself in anything that keeps your mind occupied—work, games, mindless scrolling through your phone. Anything to keep yourself from replaying the look on Wonyoung’s face at the fansign. From remembering the way she hesitated before handing your album back. From thinking about the way her gaze kept flickering toward you as you walk away, as if she was looking for something.

Or someone.

But that’s not your problem anymore. You told yourself that the moment you left the venue.

Which is why, when your phone starts ringing at an ungodly hour, you almost don’t check the caller ID. Almost.

The second you see her name flashing on the screen, your stomach twists.

Jang Wonyoung.

The ringing continues, each second stretching unbearably. You should let it go. Turn off your phone. Pretend you never saw it.

But you don’t. Because deep down, you know you still want to hear her voice. So you answer.

“...Hello?”

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, followed by a soft giggle—breathy and drawn out, the kind that used to slip past her lips whenever she was feeling particularly affectionate.

"Dummmyy!" she hums, stretching your nickname like it’s some sweet, familiar melody.

“Wonyo. Are you drunk?” You sigh, ignoring the way your nickname for her easily rolled out of your tongue.

She giggles again, the sound loose and unguarded. "Mmm… maybe."

"Goddamn it." You rub your temples. "Where are you?"

A rustling noise filters through the receiver, followed by the distant hum of traffic. "Somewhere," she mumbles. "Some bar, I think. The girls took me out."

Figures.

You shift in bed, propping yourself up against the headboard. “It’s late.”

“I know,” she says, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “But I wanted to call you.”

You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose. “Why?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, there’s a soft exhale, the kind she lets out when she’s gathering her thoughts. Then, quieter…

“Because I miss you.”

Your fingers tighten around the phone.

"Don’t do that," you say quietly.

"Do what?"

"Say things you don’t mean."

Another pause. When she speaks again, her voice is steadier. "But I do mean it. I do miss you."

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. "Well, that’s not my problem anymore, is it?"

She goes quiet.

For a moment, all you hear is the faint sound of music in the background, the distant chatter of people. She’s probably in the back of some high-end bar or a private lounge that someone of her status often went. You can picture it too easily—her long hair falling over her shoulders, her lips painted red, the glow of the city lights reflecting in her eyes.

Your heart beat rapidly at the image.

"You came to the fansign," she says suddenly, cutting into your thoughts.

You rub at your temple. "Mhm."

"Why?"

"You already know why."

"Say it anyway."

You sigh. "Because I had the tickets. It would’ve been a waste."

She lets out a humourless laugh. "Right. Can’t have that."

Something about the way she repeats your words from that day makes your stomach twist.

There’s another long pause. Then, almost hesitantly.

"Did you feel anything?"

Your eyes widened. "Feel what?"

"When you saw me again." Her voice is quieter now. "Did you feel anything?"

Your jaw clenches. You want to lie. Want to say no, not at all. That it didn’t matter. That she doesn’t matter. But you can’t.

Because the truth is, you felt everything.

The way your heart clenched when she looked at you. The way your stomach twisted when her fingers hesitated over your name. The way your mind screamed at you to move on, to stop letting her affect you, to stop caring.

But you don’t tell her any of that.

Instead, you settle for, "Who cares anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because we’re done, Jang Wonyoung."

She sucks in a sharp breath, and for a second, you wonder if she’s about to cry.

"You-" She stops, swallows. When she speaks again, her voice is unsteady. "You didn’t even try to fight for me."

Your grip tightens around the phone, knuckles turning white. "You were the one who ended things. On the phone, may I remind you."

"I know," she whispers. "And I thought it was the right choice. But now I just—" She breaks off, voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know anymore."

You shut your eyes.

It would be so easy to give in. To tell her that you don’t know either, that you still think about her, that you still wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t supposed to end like this.

But what’s the point?

She made her choice.

And you’re tired of being the one left picking up the pieces.

"You’re drunk, Jang Wonyoung," you say, voice carefully even. "Go home and go to sleep."

"Wait—"

"Goodnight."

And then, before she can say another word, you hang up.

The silence that follows is deafening.

And yet, for the first time in days, you finally let yourself breathe.

-

Or at least, it should be.

You did the right thing, you tell yourself—cut it off before it could spiral any further. Before you let yourself believe, even for a second, that anything has changed.

But still, the weight in your chest lingers.

The room feels too quiet now, the kind of silence that presses in from all sides, making it impossible to ignore the thoughts creeping into your head. You lie back down, throwing an arm over your eyes, willing yourself to sleep.

You don’t know how much time passes before you hear it.

A knock.

You freeze.

At first, you think you’re imagining it. Sleep-deprived, emotionally drained, and still reeling from that damn phone call, your brain must be conjuring things that aren’t real. But then, the knocking got more insistent. Erratic, yet insistent.

Your brows furrow. You sit up, straining your ears.

"Who the hell…?"

It’s almost 3 AM. No one in their right mind would be visiting you at this hour. Then again, you just got a call from a drunk girl not in their right mind.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s louder this time, clumsy and uncoordinated, like whoever’s on the other side can barely keep their balance. A sinking feeling settles in your stomach.

You begrudingly throw off your blankets and push yourself up, padding toward the door. Your hand hovers over the handle for a second before you sigh and pull it open.

And there she is.

Wonyoung.

She’s standing there in the dim, flickering hallway light, wrapped in a thin coat that does nothing to protect her from the cold. Her long hair is slightly tousled, the glossy perfection from the concert gone, strands falling loosely over her shoulders. She sways just the slightest, a delicate wobble on unsteady feet. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes glassy—not just from the alcohol but from something else. Something unreadable.

You blink.

She blinks back, like she’s just now processing that you’re standing in front of her.

Then, with absolutely no warning, she wobbles forward, collapsing against your chest.

You barely manage to catch her. “Jesus—Wonyo.” You gently hold her arms, steadying her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

"Surprise," she breathes, half-laughing, half-sniffling.

You let out a sharp breath. “Surprise? You’re seriously—” You stop yourself, jaw clenching. “How did you even get here?”

"I took a taxi," she announces, like that explains anything. Like that justifies her showing up at your door past midnight after breaking up with you.

You stare at her. “Alone?”

“Mmhmm.”

Your stomach twists. “Wonyoung, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

She just hums, leaning more of her weight onto you. Her forehead presses against your shoulder, and you can feel the slight tremble in her body.

You sigh, tightening your grip. “You’re freezing.”

“I was walking.”

“Walking where?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she tilts her head back to look at you properly. Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something—something serious, something she’s probably been holding in for too long. But then, she hiccups.

You close your eyes, exhaling sharply through your nose. “You’re unbelievable.”

She smiles lazily, like she didn’t just show up at your door dead drunk in the middle of the night after breaking up with you.

"You hung up on me," she murmurs.

You pull back slightly, just enough to see her properly. “Yeah. I did.”

"That was mean," she says, pouting. "I was talking."

"You were drunk."

"Still talking."

You shake your head, adjusting your grip on her. “Come on. You need water. And sleep.”

She hums, letting you guide her inside. “Only if you let me stay.”

You pause.

For a brief second, something in her voice sounds painfully sober.

But then she giggles again, burying her face in your chest, and you decide that you’ll deal with that in the morning.

For now, you just hold her close.

You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line as you shift your grip on her. She’s barely standing at this point, practically melting into you like she has no bones in her body.

"Alright, come on," you mutter, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her inside.

She stumbles slightly, her fingers gripping at your shirt as she giggles under her breath. "You smell nice," she mumbles.

You ignore that.

You close the door behind you with your foot, guiding her toward the couch. She flops onto it with zero resistance, her coat slipping off her shoulders. The moment she’s down, she tilts her head back, blinking up at you like she’s expecting something.

She doesn’t hesitate. Stumble inside like she belongs here.

And maybe that’s the problem. She did belong here.

And now? Now you don’t know.

Her eyes lazily drift across the apartment, lingering on the things she still remembers—the half-empty cup of coffee on your desk, the hoodie she used to steal draped over the chair, the faint indent in the couch where she used to curl up next to you.

Then she noticed your desk, the same desk where the fansign ticket sat just days ago. The same one she saw in your hands at the fansign days ago.

"You really came," she murmurs, not looking at you. "I didn’t think you actually would."

You shrug. "Like I said. Would’ve been a waste."

She flinches. Just the tiniest bit. But you catch it.

She exhales slowly, arms wrapping around herself. "It was weird."

"What was?"

"Seeing you there. But not... There, you know?" She fully looks at you now, and there's something raw in her expression. Something you’re not sure you’re ready to face. "You didn’t smile. You didn’t tease me like you usually do. You barely even looked at me."

"What did you expect?" you ask quietly. "You dumped me, Wonyoung. You can’t just expect me to act like nothing happened."

She presses her lips together, fingers gripping the hem of her sleeve. "I know."

You wait. Give her the space to say what she came here to say.

But she doesn’t. Not right away.

She defeatedly sighed, tucking her knees under her chin, looking smaller than she ever has before. She stares at her hands for a long moment before mumbling, "I don’t know why I came here."

You scoff. "Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you drunk-called your ex, then showed up at his apartment in the middle of the night without a plan."

She frowns. "I do have a plan."

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She huffs. "Step one: get inside. Step two..." She falters, looking away. "...I didn’t think that far."

You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

Silence stretches between you, heavy and unspoken.

Then, barely above a whisper, "Do you hate me?"

You freeze.

Your first instinct is to say no. Because of course you don’t hate her. You never could.

But that’s not the right answer, is it?

So instead, you tell the truth.

"I don’t know," you admit. "I want to. But I can't."

She looks up at you then, eyes searching. Hopeful and afraid all at once. "I messed up, didn’t I?"

You let out a hollow laugh. "Yea. Big time."

She swallows. Lowers her gaze again. "I thought breaking up would make things easier. For you…for both of us."

"Did it?"

She shakes her head. "No."

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling. "Then why did you do it?"

"I was scared," she says, and her voice is so small, so unlike the confident idol the world knows, that it almost hurts to hear. "I thought I was being selfish, holding onto you when I barely had time to see you. I thought you deserved more than stolen moments and rushed phone calls."

Your jaw clenches. "You didn’t even ask me what I wanted."

"I know," she whispers. "I thought I was making the right choice."

You sit down across from her, legs spread, elbows on your knees. "And now?"

She meets your gaze, vulnerability laid bare. "Now... I just miss you."

Your heart leaped a mile. This was the Wonyoung you always see. Not the glamorous and model-esque Jang Wonyoung everyone always see on TV. Not the well-spoken and powerful public figure everyone knows. Just…a gentle yet bubbly girl who snuggled up next to you on the couch at the end of the day.

But your brain should tell her to leave. To sleep it off, to sober up and think about this when her mind is clearer.

Then she reaches out—just the slightest, her fingers brushing against yours on the couch. And you don’t pull away.

"You’re drunk," you remind her, though your voice lacks conviction.

She smiles faintly. "Thanks…Mr. Obvious."

Silence. Then, tentatively, "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Another hesitation.

But just like before, you already know your answer.

You sigh. Your hand intertwined with hers.

"Go get a blanket. Wonyo."

She doesn’t move right away. Just watches you, like she’s memorizing you all over again.

Then, with a small, almost relieved nod, she gets up and stumbled into your bedroom as she dragged you along—the same bedroom she used to slip into after long schedules, the same one she used to call hers.

And just like that, the distance you tried so hard to create crumbles.

Again.

[landososcar]

so american ; CL16

pairing(s) ; charles leclerc x american!reader

summary ; in which a trip to monaco turns permenant because of one ferrari racing driver

warnings ; fast paced relationship, smau, google translated french (pls correct anything that’s wrong) & FLUFFF

note ; lol sorry i lowkey disappeared. anyways. here’s charles and leo (aka everyone’s fav duo)

instagram !

liked by friend1, charlesleclerc, and others

youruser leo & i might never leave 🥰🇲🇨

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friend1 monaco is so so beautiful

yourbff you can’t leave me here alone in the us

youruser but…

charles_leclerc im stealing her

yourbff you’ve know her for 3 weeks

charles_leclerc whats your point ??

friend2 the states miss you come home

friend3 leo has a new lap to sit in????

yourbff i feel cheated on

charles_leclerc i’ll make sure you don’t leave ☺️❤️

youruser having the best time of my life with you🫶

yourbff saying you’re not gonna let her leave is kinda creepy not gonna lie…

charles_leclerc you’re just jealous coz she doesn’t wanna go back to the us and wants to stay with me

friend4 you look so happy😁

instagram !

liked by fan1, fan2, and others

cl16updating recent pictures of charles with a puppy, fans who asked him about the dog say his name is leo and he is not charles dog but he is staying with him for a while!! we are also unsure who the girl in his car in the last picture is, if anyone has any idea please share her instagram @ with us!!!!!!!!

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fan1 omg he’s not his dog??? i’m devastated now i wanted leo paddock appearances

fan2 idk maybe if you guys find her instagram @ don’t share it,, if charles wanted us to know about her he’d share with us

fan3 if she doesn’t want us to know about her maybe she shouldn’t hang out with the prince of monaco

fan4 she should be able to hang with whoever she wants. some of y’all are so weird

fan5 imma steal that dog

fan6 that means we probs won’t get leo in the paddock😭

fan7 maybe leo is the girls’ dog and she’s a friend of charles visiting him or something idk

imessages !

translation 1: ‘i’ll miss you so much’

translation 2: ‘we can be crazy together, my love’

twitter !

instsgram !

youruser added to the story!

charles_leclerc added to his close friends story!

charles_leclerc replied to your story

↳ you always do baby

↳ god you’re so cheesy

↳ i hate you

↳ can we go back home i miss leo

↳ charlie babe leo will be fine by himself for 3 hours

↳ i know i know

↳ i just love him so much

you replied to charles_leclerc’s story

↳ CHARLIE DELETE

↳ THE DOGS ARE OUT😭😭😭

↳ LEO GOT OUT??????????????? WHERE IS HE ??? IS HE SAFE??? DID SOMEONE FIND HIM??:??;??/??

↳ omg baby no leo’s fine i’m sorry for worrying you

↳ why would you joke about that

↳ i think i nearly had a heart attack

↳ you’re more obsessed with leo than me

instagram !

liked by user1, user2, and others

f1wagupdates charles and his girlfriend (leo’s mum — we don’t know her name) this saturday. the owner of the first pic said that they were out for dinner with pascale, arthur, lorenzo, and their girlfriends.

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user1 she so beautiful oh my god

user2 where’s leo

user3 girl she doesn’t have to take him everywhere

user4 i think her name is y/n… my cousin in america said that she looks like someone she used to go to school with

user5 i looked through charles’ following and he follows a private account with that name @youruser

user6 ooo that could be her fs

user7 did she really leave leo alone.. she’s a bad owner wtf

user8 leo is a dog he’ll be ok by himself for a few hours omg you just want a reason to hate her go touch grass

twitter !

twitter !

instagram !

liked by carlossainz55, lorenzotl, and others

charles_leclerc happy gorgeous amazing month ☺️❤️

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user1 CHARLES who is THAT

user2 Y/N CONTENT ON THE MAIN ‼️‼️‼️

carlossainz55 whipped

user3 omg is she playing his piano

user4 yes with her feet

youruser love love love you

charles_leclerc chérie💓💓

user4 anyone else think they’re moving REALLY quickly…. like i heard they’re living together already

user5 who CAREEESSSSS

user6 it’s none of our business

yourbff you’re all she talks about oh my GOD

charles_leclerc are you jealous

instagram !

liked by leclerc_pascale, yourbff, and others

youruser “too much, too soon” i’m living with him lol

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yourbff remember when we had conversations that weren’t about him

youruser wdym

yourbff i hate him

yourbff you’re OBSESSED with him

yourbff you guys are DISGUSTING

youruser you sound jealous

yourbff i AM. that little french driving man STOLE my best friend

charles_leclerc FRENCH????????

friend1 miss you 🫶🫶

joris__trouche ❤️

friend2 come visit soon we miss youuuu

friend3 you’re so so so gorgeous

charles_leclerc MON AMOURRR

charles_leclerc YOURE SO BEAUTIFUL I WANNA KISS YOUR FACE

yourbff can you get me a ticket to the miami gp so i can see my wife pls

charles_leclerc no you’re gonna try steal her back

yourbff @youruser ur boyfriend is being mean to me

youruser charlie i lost my miami paddock pass can you get me another one pls but like could you put it under the name y/bff/n y/bff/ln please, for no reason☺️

charles_leclerc okay baby💓💓

youruser stop it i love you so so much you’re so adorable😭

leclerc_pascale Leo ❤️

youruser he misses you 🥰

imessages !

my other works !

[vaguely-concerned]

This might be due to the fact that on my first playthrough I ended up creating a Rook more emotionally guarded than any of the companions except Minrathous-route Lucanis and perhaps Neve, so I was primed to look for it, but I never got the sense that the companions don’t care for Rook (the thought never even occurred to me until I saw other people post about it) — to me it seems much more like it’s Rook who keeps the last bit of distance, Rook who pulls away when the companions try to extend their care or worry too directly, who keeps themselves slightly apart. (Rook who is so full of grief they cannot know as grief and thus process that there’s no room inside them to let anything else all the way in, perhaps.) They deflect and flinch back when someone gets too close or approaches them too overtly about their feelings — especially when it brushes up against the theme of grief. They can offer care to all the companions who are grieving, come along to any number of funerals as emotional support, but the moment someone turns that towards them they shut that shit down Immediately, like when Taash almost gives the whole game away with ‘Like you’d know? You act like you haven’t lost anyone!’ and Rook just blandly responds ‘We’re talking about you’ and doesn’t engage. But they can also admit that they struggle with accepting compliments, or knowing what to say, or having confidence in themselves without Varric’s help.

Despite all their determination and even in their most stoic no-nonsense incarnation, Rook is awkward, with the struggles that entails. Someone who is eager and happy to be the helper wherever they can, and helplessly unequipped to know how to be the helpee, as it were. It’s not that the companions don’t return Rook’s attachment to them, there’s MUCH more of a ‘okay so what are the ways you will allow me to be good to you??’ desperation of care vibe behind all their invitations to conversations and hangouts together, to my mind. They bring Rook to their favourite places and share the things they love with them, they ask to spend time together (many times just to have their company, not because they have a problem they need help with! Sometimes the problem arises anyway b/c video game quest narrative of course), they bring them out for some direly needed grass touching, they introduce them to their families. Everyone is clearly getting the sense that Rook does Not want to talk about Varric especially (this is in fact what Harding says in banter, if she’s still alive after the reveal :’( ), but they are absolutely SCRAMBLING to find ways to show that they’re there for them even so. AND from the companions’ perspective, with the situation as they have the means to understand it, accepting that Rook isn’t ready to have that conversation and backing off is also a kind thing to do. (tl;dr: To Me Rook is that weirdly socialized friend who is a great hang once they’re actually there but you have to directly invite them or they don’t quite know how to initiate the contact themselves lol) 

Just as a crushing sense of responsibility for their family is a trait that is built into Hawke no matter how you play them or how you make them respond to that, I feel like Rook — however helpful and earnest, warm, charming, jocular, stoic or straightforward they seem at a surface glance — is always someone who struggles deeply with connecting to themselves and other people. (Emotional Intimacy, the Final Frontier.) As, indeed, is the case with all of the Veilguard companions too! It’s clearly a deliberate theme. These are all lonely people struggling with their sense of identity and belonging in some sort of way. AND having, working on and eventually starting to overcome these difficulties also makes Rook a direct foil for Solas, who doesn’t learn that lesson unless you corner him at the end of the world to force feed him his medicine lmao. They don’t manage to break out of the regret prison under their own steam, it’s because even struggling and grieving they have managed to create mutual bonds with other people who show up for them in turn now — and with all the protective walls of denial around what happened to Varric crumbling and making them less of a stranger to themselves, Rook is finally able to let them. An outcome Solas seemingly didn’t even consider to guard against, because he’s become that deeply entrenched in his loneliness, the utter isolation of the self — he can no longer truly imagine an alternative. (It’s not that he can’t form these bonds, obviously, it’s that he resolutely refuses to value them. Whether it’s because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it or out of a need for control or the martyr complex where he must sacrifice everything he loves on the sacrificial pyre of fixing his mistakes, all of the above and more, the result is the same. Mind!Varric, who I think is mostly Solas speaking, even calls this out directly. So yet again a situation where he has some self awareness about it and it doesn’t help At All haha. Solas falls to the temptation of making people into tools again and again and again, no matter how many times it comes back to bite him in the ass and the eternal solitude it traps him in.) 

And that deep deep loneliness… There but for the grace of… well the theological state of thedas being what it is right now, let’s just go with the grace of Something, Presumably go you as well, Rook. The same capacity/tendency to pull away from connection clearly lives in them as well in some form (again, for whatever reason and with whatever motivations and instincts behind it for any individual Rook). Solas and Rook coming together to create a blood magic paper doll of the mind Varric in response to acute loss and loneliness is one of the most deep , deeply fucked up and invasive acts of intimacy I’ve ever contemplated. I don’t think that’s accidental, there’s something There’s Something Wrong With You (there’s something wrong with you that’s also wrong with me (derogatory)) here that resonates no matter how both parties would hate to hear it. (A fitting legacy for Varric and his wild ‘I made my best friend into a story because it’s the only way I know how to love with this desperation of sincerity’ brain to leave in the narrative, methinks. I feel he’d appreciate it on a craft level, if nothing else.)

If you read through all of Rook’s potential backstories, one of the common threads through all of them, along with a certain maverick ‘I’ll do whatever it takes’ streak, is a sense of profound alienation. They did something or have some sort of quality that made it hard for them to fit in with the group they’re from, causing a conflict that cuts them off from parts of their identity as it’s been up until now. All of which also adds to how important Varric is to them — he was clearly able to break/see through some of that and be closer with them, even in the relatively short time they spent together. No matter what else goes to shit, they can trust that a) Varric sees them, b) he genuinely likes them and believes in them not despite who they are, but for it, and c) he’s got their back, we’re in this together kid. And then he is gone, and it takes them the whole game to be able to bring themselves to accept that and know themselves again, be able to let new relationships in fully. The very understandable ‘the last time I let someone in, they got stabbed before my eyes and the world ended’ flinch away, even if they’re not consciously aware that’s what it is. Anyway I love Rook. So much space to play around in here as to WHY they might feel or react like this, even when the framework is more defined.

[hellsslibrary]

Hello! There's just not so many sub! Kaiser fics and I'm d y i n g to read those 😔😔

Can I request for a sub! Kaiser x male reader where Kaiser has a praise kink but doesn't ever want to admit it 👀

#a.n. :This is so same! Kaiser is such a babygirl, I want to kiss him, eat him, hug him, and then rock him in my arms and let him relax... But no, this bitch is always top, lol. Even funny.

"I don't like your damn praise! Just fuck me alre—...What?"

!!Warnings: Bottom!Sub!Michael, Dom!Top!Reader, sex on an indoor football field (it's empty, it just seemed interesting to me, imagine the echo there...), praise kink obviously, Michael tries to be dominant, but he's too much of a pillow princess (he came out so gentle... In his own way), in fact everything is quite vanilla, but he kicks you when he's unhappy, also very romantic in general. × And the reader is somehow connected with football company. You can be a manager, a football player, or even a cleaner there, honestly.

The football field in the building was closed at night, knowing full well how persistent football players in the leagues can be. Darkness, silence, idyll... Except for the flashlight from the phone somewhere in the middle of the field and quiet groans echoing from the walls.

"Why did you decide to have sex here? Plus, at this time?" You ask, looking over at Michael, who was clutching at the trimmed grass in the lawn as you thrust into him at a careful, almost tremulous pace.

“I think you said yourself that you wanted to experiment... So we’re starting with something easy,” Blonde whispers, wincing from the unpleasant feeling of artificial grass in his hands, so he just hugs your neck lazily.

“Well, yes, but... You obviously have some other reasons. But I won’t push if you don’t want to talk,” Michael just sighs at your words, but it immediately turns into a soft moan when your lips touch his neck.

“I just love the atmosphere in here, as weird as it sounds, so shut up and fuck me,” A disgruntled mutter escapes his lips, only to be cut short when he tilts his head back, giving you better access to his neck.

You look over his face, surprisingly too peaceful for him. Maybe this place really brought inner comfort to his soul, erasing all the doubts and burdens that he kept inside and sometimes shared with you. Maybe it was. But your heart broke at the sight of him for some reason, you understood his feelings more than anyone... Because you were probably the only one he was able to open up to so much.

“Micha? You’re a good boy,” echoes from your lips almost casually, but with a sickly sweet note that you want to listen to forever and drown in these sweet speeches.

"What was it?"

You find yourself torn from examining his face by his question. And really, why did you say that? He didn't do anything special during your entire session, which lasted about half an hour. And you too... But one look at him is enough for you to understand why.

Your attentive gaze glides over his perfect facial features, long eyelashes giving his eyes an unusual softness and warmth. Instantly you feel the desire to say that he is beautiful, extraordinarily beautiful. Faithful hands, strength and tenderness in every touch, sincerity and warmth in every word, just for you. The desire to praise, to say how much love and kindness he has, how he is able to bring a smile even in the most cloudy weather.

His soul shines brighter than the stars in the sky, his smile can melt the heart of icy granite. The desire to praise, express gratitude for all the beauty and kindness that he brings into this world. He is not just a person, he is magic, miracle, a spark that pushes you to move even in your most difficult moments.

The words seem unfair, but the heart is filled with feelings that are impossible to carry on the wind. Praise, approval, love — all these are small before the greatness of his soul and his existence. You really want to tell him about this so that he understands how amazing and significant he is to you. Just as the sun rises every morning, he awakens in you a feeling of awe and admiration that seems endless and will remain so.

“Because I love you,” You say without thinking, and immediately catch a light, rare blush on his cheeks.

His hand immediately drops down from your shoulder to cover the pink dust on his cheeks, but you intercept his hand, kissing his fingers tenderly, intertwining your fingers together.

"You idiot... Why so suddenly?" He asks, even if he doesn't wait for an answer, lightly kicking you in the side, groaning when you lean over him a little closer, hitting his sweet spot at a pleasant angle.

You find yourself thinking that you would worship him if he were God. It’s not that you didn’t already worship him... But he was definitely the person for whom even an atheist would reconsider their views on the world.

"Why suddenly? I'm always ready to praise you. You are tenacious, driven, incredibly smart, caring for those you care about in your own way... You are simply magnificent."

"Shut up, please shut up. I don't need your praise, just fuck me and..." He trails off, kicking you in the side again as he realizes something, "You didn't say that I'm handsome."

“Your beauty is a fact. But your appearance is far from the main thing that you have, even if you think differently... But if I started to list what I like about you externally, then we would move on to dithyrambs and ballads, and not to the climax."

Michael chuckles, finally distracted from contemplating you in response, realizing that he really feels a knot growing in his stomach. In general, he would never admit that he would be glad to listen to these dithyrambs and ballads and much more if it came from you. He's always taken praise for granted because, yes, he's Michael Kaiser, but now? He's just a puddle in your hands that's trying to look like ice.

“I’m not clenching around your cock right now because...” He cuts himself off, groaning as your mouth sucks on his neck in the area of his tattoo, “It’s not because I liked the praise, is that clear to both of us?”

“Of course, my King, as you say,” You say, biting the skin of his neck, causing him to whimper quietly as one of your hands slides to his cock, stroking it in time with your thrusts.

Your pace gradually picks up as you get closer too. And the sight of Michael, who clearly enjoyed your previous praise, did not at all ease your hard-on, nor did the warm walls around him.

"Call me!" He suddenly shouts, kicking you in the side once again, although you have no idea what he means at first, pulling away from his neck.

"Good boy?" You ask cautiously and to your surprise and pleasure, his cock twitches in your palm, and after a few thrusts he actually comes, squeezing you tighter than usual, which is why you can’t help but cum, thrusting into him a couple of times in post-orgasmic bliss, and then laying down on his chest.

The quiet rhythm of his heartbeat calmed you as he lightly ran his hand through your hair. You were both regaining your more than ragged breaths before the comfortable silence was interrupted by a question that made you chuckle hoarsely.

“Why did you ask this and not state it as a fact?”

[archive-of-ink]

really something

this banner thing pissed me off so this is what you get (divider by @enchanthings)

summary - On the midnight of your twentieth birthday, time moving hitting you harder than ever leaving you to wallow over all the things you missed out on in your teenage years - until Joel Miller, your dad's best friend and family's next-door neighbor appears over the fence igniting you to try something new.

or

Joel gives you two firsts for your birthday.

word count - 2.2k

warnings - dbf!joel, language, huge age gap (20/40s), reader is able-bodied and can balance herself on a fence beam, no description of reader, smoking/shotgunning a cigarette written by someone who has never touched one, mention of reader's family who she has a fairly good relationship with though no specifics. first kiss (no smut yet, i apologize)

a/n- hi, this is only my second joel fic sooo go easy on me. I have exactly nineteen days before I am twenty and while I'm excited, I'm also a little terrified. it feels kinda bittersweet and idk, this is what happened instead of me crying about it lol anyway don't question the logistics of this stupid fence, i gave up trying after an hour of trying to rework it. this will probably have a second part.

 Three. Two. One. 

 The clock struck midnight and like the world's most anti-climatic fairytale, nothing fucking happened. There is no running down ballroom stairs, no prince, no fairy godmother to bestow a magical dress, no impractical glass heels. There’s just you in your cherry-printed pajama shorts and old stretched-out t-shirt, bare feet grazing the porch as you swing back and forth staring at the sky and letting the balmy Texas wind wash across your skin. 

  Your eyes glanced up to the date printed above the time on your phone screen and you sighed, a familiar sense of melancholia flooding you - a yearly tradition since you were fifteen, when time became tangible. Now turning twenty, the seconds were passing and you could feel it.  

  You weren’t naive enough to believe being twenty would be the epitome of your life or that you were somehow old, which was far from the worst thing a woman could be anyway. No, you couldn’t really pinpoint the reason that sadness was so heavy on this specific birthday. It may have been the way your teenage years passed you by in what felt like a century and a day all at once. So focused on graduating, staying out of trouble, and sticking to yourself that two years into attending the college a half-hour out of town, you still lived at home, and the extent of your social life was the friends you’d met through class but they were more study buddies than anything. 

  It wasn’t that you hated life, you were content - happy even. Typically those moments came in your sister’s laugh or your dad’s jokes, the days your mom took you to lunch and you felt twelve again. It was more than enough, most of the time. 

  But on nights like these when the time clung to your skin, anxiety filling your chest at everything you wanted to do and everything you hadn’t, you let yourself wallow in it. Giving yourself fifteen minutes to bask in the self-pity helped it pass quicker - the tried and true method. Birthdays were harder, always pleasant days filled with hugs and gifts and wishes for a good year plastered on your mom’s Facebook wall from relatives you’d never met but that inkling of longing for something you don’t have was always there.   

  And maybe, deep down you knew what it was and you didn’t want to admit it, even to yourself. Luckily, you wouldn’t have to as you were snapped from your thoughts when a figure popped up at the fence. You jerked back, too worried about the intruder to care about the phone sliding from your hands and through the railing of the porch into the grass. 

       “Damn. I’m sorry, darlin.” Joel Miller said, accent thick but light with amusement. the moonlight casting a sideways shadow across his crooked smile - too amused for his apology to mean much.  “Didn’t mean to scare ya’” 

       “Well, ya did.” You said, heart still racing as you slid off the swing and down the small stairs. Feet hitting the damp grass, you bend to grab your phone, sliding it into the waistband of your shorts, and ignore the burn of his eyes on you. “What’re you doing out here this late?” 

       “Could ask the same to you.”  

      “I was swinging.” You shrug before walking closer to stand in front of him. His arms crossed, t-shirt pulled tight over his shoulders, and leaning just slightly forward to rest on the wooden fence. “Seems like you were lurking on a teenage girl, Mr.Miller.” 

    He scoffed at the name, shaking his head in mock disbelief.  You’d called him Joel the two years your family lived next to him. Formalities were damned from the second your dad and he realized the plethora of things they had in common and your mom realized his daughter was the same age as your younger sister.  He’d become a constant since then. From every family event or backyard cookout to birthday parties and even just weekends when he felt like it, Joel was around.  

  All familiar Southern charm and rough exterior that seemed to soften around Sarah, never failing to have you melting on the fucking ground. 

  You’d gotten away with it this far - your big fat crush on him. Well kinda, your sister saw right through you two weeks into moving in. Fifteen-year-olds can be scarily perceptive and easy to bribe. It only cost you promising a week of frappuccinos before school and she swore to never say a word to anyone. A fair price for someone who held the most mortifying secret you had. 

       “You’re all grown up now, ain’t ya?” He smirked and shifted, hand diving below the fence into what you assumed was his pocket. A pack of cigarettes and a lighter came into view when his hand returned and he pulled one out, shielding it from the wind as he lit it

      “Those’ll kill ya, y’know.”  You said, giving him a small smile. Your eyes lingered on his lips wrapping around the cigarette as he inhaled, holding it for a second before blowing the smoke away from you. The smell of tobacco filled her senses, warm and familiar. 

  Brown eyes almost black in the night, his gaze was locked on yours when you pulled yourself away, face heating when you realized he’d caught her. He didn’t respond, just took another drag. 

   The urge was sudden. Your last bit of teenage rebellion before the day began and you were grown. The thought was laughable, feeling so far away from the title. Though the melancholy from before had faded into something different, more daring in the moonlight. 

    “Let me try.” You grinned and let your hands rest on the fence as you leaned forward onto the balls of your feet. He barked out a laugh, shaking his head again.  “C’mon, I’ve never smoked anything before. Just this once.”  

     “You want your mama and daddy t’kill me?” He said, cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth. Your eyes traced where his hands had fallen to bracket yours on the wood, up his forearms corded in muscle and spatterings of hair.  “Plus, they’re bad for ya’.” 

  He was right on both accounts.  They would kill you together if they knew but they were long asleep - you were alone. But you did mean just this once, so no one would have to know. 

       “Joooel.” You whined, pouting your lower lip - not necessarily helping your grown-up status but getting what you wanted was more important right then. “Please.” 

      You didn’t waiver under his scrutiny, just grinned up at him - eyes wide and curious. He considered you, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he squinted - his gaze trailing fire across your skin when it dropped to where you worried your bottom lip with your teeth and down to the ratty-old t-shirt you were wearing and back up. 

      “C’mere” He motioned with the two fingers holding the cigarette and you tried to stop the smile that broke out on your face. You were already close enough for him to hand it over but not wanting to question him, you moved so your waist was pressed flush against the wood, stepping up on the bottom ledge bringing you level with him hands bracing yourself. The fence hit at your hips now - leaving you closer than before. 

 “Open.” 

     Your brows knit together at his request until it clicked and reached out to grab the cigarette. 

 “Joel. let me-”    

  “Open.” He said, yanking his hand back before you could protest even further. He raised his eyebrows, daring you to test him. 

  You sighed, arms crossed over your chest as you waited. Your lips parted just enough for him to slide the cigarette between them, index finger and thumb holding it in place.  It was foreign - you expected that but still, it was different and part of you regretted the entire thing. Eyes widened as the smell of tobacco and the heat of Joel’s you looked up to Joel and hoped he couldn’t see how out of your depths you really were. 

    “Inhale.”

Before Joel could give further instruction, you were sputtering out a cough as the nicotine burned into way into your lungs. You shoved a hand into his chest when his hand shot out to steady you.

   “You asshole.”  You whisper-yelled, water forming in your tear ducts, finally catching your breath. “You did that on purpose.” 

   “I didn’t.” An amused grin plastered his face and it took all the restraint within you to not jump the fence and wipe it off. Liar. A beat passed with your death glare boring into him before he seemed to have an idea. “ A’right, got a better idea. Get up ‘ere.” 

   He patted the beam where your hands helped you balance and screwed your face up at him. 

   “How do I know you're not trickin’ me again?” Your brow arched, considering her options. You could back out now, get ready for bed, and another birthday. Or you could stay, hop onto the fence, and do something for once. You decided before he even spoke again.

     “Ya don’t.” He shrugged, taking a drag for himself and tapping the beam again. “C’mon.”  

Without another thought, you pushed yourself up and attempted to swing your leg over the plank. It was a moment of ungraceful fumbling before warm hands slid to the backs of your thighs leaving you momentarily suspended in the air, you fell forward yelping as your own hands shot out to brace yourself on his shoulder. You were seated on the plank before you could question what the hell he was doing. 

  It was a thin beam, uncomfortable and unstable, and splinters no doubt poking at your skin. That vanished the moment you looked up. Joel stood, jean-clad hips snug between your parted legs with hands braced next to your hips - fingers grazing the fabric of your exposed sleep shorts. You were close before- eye to eye but here you were nearly nose to nose.

       “Y’trust me?” His voice was lower, sending a shiver through you despite the warmth of the night. Another drag, he plucked the cigarette from his lips and held it at his side. 

 You nodded, breath catching in your throat as he moved impossibly closer. He hadn’t exhaled on that last drag and you didn’t notice what he wanted you to do until his thumb found your lower lip. You parted them and he leaned forward, letting the smoke filter from his lungs into yours. He was careful not to let his lips graze yours, a fraction of an inch away. You inhaled - senses overwhelmed with the burn in your chest and shiver running down your spine. Joel surrounded you, almost pressed together, and caging you in on all sides. 

      “Breath, baby.” His hand found your hip, thumb rubbing comforting circles through the shorts. Somewhere your eyes had screwed shut and your body tensed, you let out the breath and met his eyes - narrowed and nearly black in the darkness, filled with something you couldn’t read. Your gaze flicked to his mouth, he watched the movement.

      “Just this once?” Your voice sounded far away, too desperate and breathy as you looked up through lashes. “Please.” 

  “C’mere.” 

A calloused hand wrapped around the back of your head, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours, soft and gentle press sending your nerve endings into overdrive. He didn’t move to deepen it and for a moment, it was just that. You gasped at the contact, heat spreading in your abdomen, hands curling around his neck when he took the opportunity to lick into your mouth. He tasted like cigarettes mixed with whiskey and something you didn’t know. It should’ve been bad, made you pull away but it was so distinct and familiar - so Joel.  You couldn’t help but lean into him, sighing as your fingers played with the silky curls at the nape of his neck. 

  Later you’d think about the surrealism of the moment - sharing your first kiss with the man you pined over since you were eighteen, you’d overthink every movement you made or didn’t. But his tongue was languid against your own and blanking your mind until you were floating in sensation, skin alight and tingling. A careful hand ran up your waist, over the fabric of your shirt. So far from unsavory, he was being painstakingly respectful. You let out a needy whine and felt him grin against your mouth, hiking the shirt to expose the skin of your stomach to the humid air. Warm, rough palms slid up your sides, across your stomach, and back down to your hips, refusing to cross that line.  Letting yours run down his chest - all broadness that sent another wave of arousal through you, you whimpered when his hands didn’t move and he pulled back, foreheads pressed together.

  “Joel.” Your voice was breathless, panting as you tried to chase his lips. He shifted, so he was just out of reach and shook his head. “Please.” 

   “Not tonight.”  He said, smoothing your shirt back into place and raising a hand to cup your face. “ ‘s late, ya need t’get t’ sleep.” 

  Before you could protest, he helped you swing your legs back over to your side, holding your hands to steady you on the beam again. Mind reeling and fuzzy - giddy as you gazed up at him, a shy smile on your face. 

     “Thank you, Joel.” You whisper, sounding more like yourself. He nodded in acknowledgment as you made the final step into the grass. You made your way back to the porch and up the stairs, His gaze following each movement, you turned back. You couldn’t make out his features this far away but you heard him. 

    “Happy Birthday, Baby.”

[maxtermind]

SCENE 1 :: YOU TORE ME RIGHT APART ↳ you were never not mine — carlos sainz ༉‧₊˚✧

★ : pairing :: carlos sainz x reader ★ : genre :: angst; fluff separated by a hidden emotional turmoil, carlos and y/n navigate the complexities of co-parenting their twins amidst the high-stakes f1 world. amidst paddock visits and personal healing, will they go further apart or find their way back to each other? ★ : a/n :: oh fuck okay here we go! let me know what you guys think so far <3 what are the theories!! ahhhhhh this is more introductory? but lots of drama nevertheless <3 please don't mention the diff twin pics, i'll start crying!

( series masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )

yn.user 41 mins ago

yn.user boys are here to support their papa!

username OMG THE IT BABIES ARE BACK ON TRACK charlesleclerc I know they were rooting for me in red🏎 I loved the bracelet btw❤️‍🩹 ⤷ carlossainz dress up leo in red and leave my kids alone username I WOULD KILL TO HAVE Y/N AND CARLOS AS MY PARENTS carlossainz papa won this for his family👍 ⤷ username it's so cute that even though they are separated, carlos never leaves out y/n ⤷ username I think it's his loss, he wants them back so he's playing a persona w words like 'family' lol ⤷ username please get a life, touch some grass🙏 username THE BABIES MADE A BRACELET FOR CARLOS ⤷ landonorris I got one toooooo

carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)

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lily is typing... (y/n's pov)

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carlossainz 20 mins ago

carlossainz who said weekends with papa are a bore?

landonorris whoring on main papa sainz? ⤷ carlossainz please unfollow❤️ username DILFFFFF username carlos can I also be your baby mama???? y/n.user MUMMA MISSES HER BABIES ⤷ carlossainz we miss you too ⤷ username pretty sure she was talking about the kids carlos lmao username it's so strange that now we get the updates from separate accounts I miss the og paddock fam ⤷ username well people move on so🤷‍♀️ ⤷ username only the real ones rmb the sainz x y/n post spams lmao

yn.user just now

yn.user stole my tortured heart💫

username who plays cards alone on a beach? 👀 username y/n’s cryptic post has me guessing mhmmm a new love interest maybe?! ⤷ username cards on the beach when alone? definitely not alone. who’s the mystery company hehe carlossainz looks like a peaceful day. glad you're finding time for yourself! ⤷ yn.user hope the boys are still up! returning the call soon🥰 lilymhe finally enjoying some well-deserved relaxation💖 ⤷ yn.user love youuu username i see cards but no players. who's with you y/n username we need more context omg is this a date ⤷ username probably with lily lol username at first i thought you were with carlos but he's in the comments soooo does that mean a new romance

carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)

f1.wags 2 mins ago

f1.wags Our sources have spotted Y/N, ex-partner of F1 driver Carlos Sainz, enjoying a cozy dinner with an unidentified man. The two were seen sharing intimate moments, sparking rumors of a new romance. Could this be the start of a new chapter for Y/N? Stay tuned for more updates as we dig deeper into this developing story.

username wow, moving on already? poor carlos username she couldn't wait a little longer before flaunting her new man username guess she never really loved carlos. just saying ⤷ username carlos deserves better than someone who moves on so fast ⤷ username its been almost half a year? username poor kids. this is why you should never have kids out of wedlock ⤷ username hey good morning, i think you time traveled to 200 years forward. please go back username she’s just trying to make carlos jealous. grow up, y/n username so much for being a loving mother? priorities lol ⤷ username boys were with carlos for one weekend and this is how she spends it ⤷ username from a perfect family to this? disappointing username carlos is better off without her. clearly, she didn’t care about him ⤷ username fr y/n's true colors are showing now. carlos dodged a bullet

carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[esotericbluntbaby]

your hamzah angst was sooo good 😭 i really love this specific concept of angst where one of them distances from the other 🥹🥹

maybe you could do a prompt where y/n is scared to date hamzah?? maybe even rejecting him at first or something omg...

or one where they get into an argument which makes one of them distance themselves from the other (i love this concept so much sorry LOL)

passionfruit

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: heartbroken by the reader rejecting his advances out of fear, hamzah finds someone else; yet, he doesn't realize he looks for you in her until it was almost too late.

mentions: roommate!hamzah, angst, feelings of abandonment, she/her pronouns, happy ending, sfw!

i was listening to passionfruit by drake while writing this lol i was trying to go for a trope where they're both yearning but there's a blockage in the way of them getting to each other. "leaving, you're just doing that to get even" really inspired me

--

"this is azra, my girlfriend," hamzah admitted as you gazed at the alluring girl he brought into the apartment.

in moments, you felt like the library of alexandria has fallen once again. all the enriching history and knowledge you once knew, in addition to him knowing as well, was burnt to a crisp like a match to dry grass. you wondered if things could've been different; if you had finally grown the courage in the garden of your soul to tell him how you truly felt. yet, it was too late to dwell.

you couldn't blame him for getting a girlfriend, especially one as pretty as she is. technically, he wasn't yours to begin with; he was merely your roommate living in the room parallel to you. however, for a while, it felt like he was. the chemistry between the two of you morphed into a familiar tension of pairs; grapes are connected by their stems in the way that leaves are connected by the branches, the same way that you two were connected by the many traits you had in common.

there was always exchanged glances. the contact between your eyes and his created a candle flame that the wrinkles and creases from his smile would fan. you two acknowledged it, leading to social settings being disrupted by being stuck in a cycle of addiction: an addiction to the understanding you two had for each other with merely a look. some call it the look of love, but you and hamzah never even had the chance to speak about it.

eventually, the shared eye contact turned into physical contact. whether it was interlocking your arms or hands or legs together while cuddling on the couch, or simply sitting on the floor to him and resting your head on his thigh as he played games with martin, days went by with a different method of touch brightening both of your days.

one time, specifically, you began to cry because of the stress that consumed any amount of happiness you were able to feel. assuming that hamzah would just hang out with you, possibly giving you a long and needed hug, you decided to go to his room. opening the door to you on the verge of breaking down in front of him, he not only gave you a hug, but also pecked your forehead and cheeks with kisses while whispering reassurance and affirmations into your ear. things were different from that day; you were no longer just friends.

however, with the difference in relationship, anyone would think that you two would simply talk about what you were. you guys have done practically everything together besides see each other naked or kissed on the lips; why wouldn't you begin to watch a relationship flourish when you know there was nothing that could go wrong? you knew he felt the same way that he did. why wouldn't you take the leap and see where it takes you?

you were a pussy. that's why.

so, you began to distance as if hamzah had the black plague and you were trying to live until you were old and wrinkly. he noticed the uncomfortable amounts of quietude in the apartment and how, suddenly, you began to go out more to parties and hangouts. hamzah knows you; you were never a partying type of girl. he knew there was something up from the sheer amount of you posting on your story about a venue or houseparty you were at, despite being one of the biggest homebodies he knew. did he mention it to you? no. in fact, he amplified the distance since he thought you simply didn't like him the way he liked you. he took your distance as rejection, similar to an empty score on a test or no reply after a job interview.

you distanced yourselves from each other, causing the home to become a house with two bodies far away from each other inside of it. yet, hamzah still decided to introduce you to azra since she would be around more often, causing the awkward situation in front of you to unfold.

"it's nice to meet you," you mentioned as you shook her hand, almost as if this was a business deal instead of an introduction.

she snarked, "yeah, totally. hamzah, you didn't tell me your roommate was a girl?"

hamzah stared at her, "i did. it was one of the first things i told you when i asked if you wanted to come over, actually."

"mmm, i don't remember," she turned to look at you, "will that be a problem?"

confused, you turned your gaze from hamzah to her, "i'm not following. what are you talking about?"

"you're his roommate. you're a girl. i'm his girlfriend. is that an issue?" she cocked her eyebrow.

"no, ma'am, it won't," you reprimanded and gave hamzah a stare of annoyance, "i'm gonna go out. i'll see you later."

--

azra made herself at home in the least plausible way possible. though hamzah worked hard to keep the kitchen clean each time he decided to cook a meal for the whole house, azra would make a meal for herself and leave the dirty and stained dishes inside of the sink. hamzah would clean the single bathroom sink, since you two shared and he would feel bad if he didn't since he shaves; azra would leave her makeup on the counters in addition to watermarks on the tiling. hamzah's cats loved most people and had no issue with them being around, yet, they would hiss and run away from azra as if she was the wicked witch. the balance of the household was completely diminished ever since she began to come over more often.

so, you decided that you were going to move out. there was no longer space for you in this house anymore; not with her being hamzah's girlfriend.

knocking on hamzah's door, you prayed that his girlfriend wouldn't be in his room. there were too many times where she had accused you of attempting to take him. hamzah would defend you, which you were insanely grateful for since she was driving you up and down the walls, leaving her accusing him of wanting you, as well. the door swung open, revealing hamzah in a gray hoodie and black, nike sweatpants. his hair was held in a beanie with loose curls exiting out of the back of his head. it was always one of your favorite looks of him. he knew that.

"hey, can i come in?"

--

the clock read 12:03 am. you two sat on his bed after a brief catching up. in those mere moments, you felt like things were normal again. there was no arguing and no awkward distance from each other. in fact, even the silence of the room was comfortable. yet, you knew it couldn't go on for too long.

"so, why'd you decide to come in here?" he asked, genuinely curious.

you cleared your throat, "i just wanted to talk to you about something kinda serious."

"i'm all ears. talk to me. what's up?"

"hamzah, i think it's time for me to move out."

his eyes widened in surprise mixed with a glint of worry, "what?"

"i dunno. i just think that, maybe, you've kinda outgrown me in a way?"

"what are you talking about?"

you hesitated, silence filling the space between you.

"stop it," he softly demanded.

"stop what?"

"just say what you want to say. you're thinking about it too much. say it as it is."

you sighed, "if you're happy with azra, i think i should leave. sometimes, it hurts just to look at you guys. i know it's bad that i'm talking to you about this as you're literally with her, but i guess i haven't gotten over how close we used to be and how it could've turned into something. i think this is for the best. i'll figure out the paperwork tomorrow. i'm sorry, hamzah."

leaving his room in a rush, you began to tear up as you entered your room, went underneath your fuzzy covers, and attempted to sleep.

--

the next day flew by; you went to the front office to collect the paperwork for the resignation of your lease. attempting to fill it out was rough, since strands of doubt kept on pulling you back from fully signing each signature and information on the paper. at around 8:00 at night, you heard a knock on your door as you began to fill out the last form of resignation. your hand twisted the doorknob, slowly revealing hamzah at the opposite end; he looked like he hadn't slept in a day, as dark circled caressed the bottoms of his eyes.

"hi, um, can i come in?"

you stared at the floor, "yeah, sure."

he sat down on your bed, your mattress making a squeaking noise at the weight of his body being fully transferred onto it. you sat onto the chair of your desk, parallel to him on the bed, and swiveled it around so you would be able to see him.

you questioned out of worry, "are you okay? did you sleep at all last nigh-"

"stay."

"what?"

"stay, please. don't move out, don't go."

you sighed, "hamzah, i'm filling out the papers right now. i'm not needed here anymore."

"but you are needed here! i need you here."

"you have a girlfriend, you have to need her inst-"

"i broke up with her."

uncertainty of the conversation began to make your brain go blank, "what?"

"you can call me a fucked up person. you can call me anything, actually, but you can't say that i don't need you here. i never looked at her the way that i look at you. i think this whole time i've just been looking for everything that you are whenever i looked into her eyes. you can call me fucked up, but i just can't help it. she isn't you. it's like somehow you've tied a rope to me and i can't seem to get out of it, but i also don't want to get out of it? i realized that last night when you told me you wanted to move out."

"hamz-"

"i didn't sleep at all because i was scared."

"why?"

"i didn't want to look to the room in front of mine and have it be empty when it could've been turned into an office or something."

you furrowed your eyebrows, "hamzah, it could still be turned into an office or something. in fact, me moving out would give you more room to-"

he placed his hands on your shoulders, "that's not the point. the point is that i'd want to turn it into an office when you move into my room. the only reason i'd ever want that room to be empty is if it was because you decided that you wanted to share space with me and sleep with me in mine."

"what are you saying?"

his hand made its way to your cheek, "you said that you couldn't get over how we could've been something. we can be something. just stay.

his eyes glistened with hope and nervousness intertwined and holding hands in his irises. hesitance filled the air in between the two; the combination of the intense eye contact, as well as the physical touch of his hand cupping your cheek as if it belonged there, created a sense of uncertainty. you both were uncertain where you would end up, how you would end up, what this interaction would lead to. it was only when hamzah's lips softly landed on yours that you realized that, suddenly, everything fell into place. it was short, sweet, and supple, only lasting about a mere 2 seconds; yet, pulling away was similar to pulling two magnets apart without a handle to hold. the feeling of his lips on yours lingered even after you pulled away.

"y'know, you're a horrible person for trying to find me in another woman," you told him softly.

"call me a horrible person all you want. i'm sorry, baby," he kissed you again, "forgive me?"

"hmm.. i don't know if i can. actually, if you do me this favor, i will.

"a favor as in?"

you handed him the documents you signed, "either burn it or shred it. i don't care."

--

author's note

i have no clue if im into how this turned out, but surprise lol two in one day!

[angelsrcute]

I’ve loved reading through your blog it’s so good!

Would love to request Idia edging his needy s/o with a sex machine while he’s gaming since they won’t leave him alone. They still get his d afterwards, how nice he is just depends on whether he won or lost 😈

DO NOT DISTURB. ౨ৎ

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Idia + Sub!gn!Reader ➜ cws: use of sex toy, degradation, rough sex, spanking (once), Idia accidentally leaves his mic on. ᡴꪫ‎

Idia was a very busy man. Busy doing his dailies and playing games!! This man planned to not get out of his room today, it was the weekend and what other way to use it than playing games with his online buddy.

You rather were bored because you had nothing to do and thought of visiting your beloved boyfriend. (and maybe get him to touch grass.)

Now, here you were, your hands bound to the bedpost as you squirm around. The dildo pushing into your hole at a fast pace, stretching your insides. It's so damn close to hitting your good spot but Idia keeps on turning off the machine just when you're close. So mean.

A soft whine escapes your lips, all while idia plays on his pc, his mic on. You were teasing him too much, distracting him, ugh. You were sitting on his lap, your hands ghosting over his thighs, prepping light kisses on his neck. You definitely deserve this.

He proceeds to ignore you, talking so normally to his friend. Another loss, the game over screen mocking him. This dude is so frustrated that he could smash his keyboard.

The sex toy thrown on the floor as he fucks you stupid, legs thrown over his shoulders, his dick kissing your sweet spot everytime he thrusts.

“What? Didn't you want me to fuck you, huh? I am, so be a little grateful. I'm not stopping till you learn your lesson.”

Drool falling on the pillow, eyes hazy as you can't even say anything, only moans and whimpers escaping your mouth. One of his hands on your neck, blocking your oxygen supply. You swear you can see stars!

“It's too much? LOL, should've thought about it before disturbing me.”

His other hand keeps you in place. Tears forming at the corner of your eyes, hands clawing at the sheets. Your neck decorated with pretty hickeys given by him. He lands a harsh spank on you ass, making you yelp out his name.

“You're such a slut, liking this, Y/N..”

He presses a rough kiss against your lips, climaxing with a final thrust. His dick twitches as a grunt escapes him, filling you up with his cum. He falls on top of you, panting heavily.

“Oh uh, I'm sorry, I hope that didn't hurt too much, yeah?” He says as he feels his face heat up with embarrassment. Dude, this looks like a straight out of a hentai video!!

You both hear a message notification pop up on Idia's pc.

“Oh, you youngsters are so lively these days, also you forgot to turn off the mic! keke..” – Muscle Red. :3

[traveler-at-heart]

Lessons of Love - Part 2

Part 2 of ??? idk, I don't even know what this is lol. Anyways,

Nerd!Nat and Fem!Rogers R.

It was a perfect Saturday evening. You were laying on the grass with Natasha, your heads close to each other as you peered through the leaves of a tree. 

For the past month, you had spent every weekend together. It was always something small, like going to the movies or ice cream, but it was nonetheless special. 

The picnic idea had been your best so far. It was just the two of you in the middle of the park, with a basket full of sandwiches, chips and soda. After eating while talking about your week, you decided to rest against the blanket and Natasha did the same. As usual, you gravitated towards each other, and when you were struggling to find a comfortable position, the redhead enveloped you in her arms, your head resting on her front.

“You’re very comfy” you muttered appreciatively, enjoying the way she smelled.

“Anytime” 

You laughed and straightened up for a second to kiss her neck in thanks. The way she blushed made you smile.

“By the way, I have something for you” going through the items left on the basket, you found an envelope and gave it to Natasha. She sat up, pulling two tickets.

“Our Place in Space? I thought the exhibit was opening in a month” 

“This is a special preview. And a talk by Erik Selvig”

“The astrophysicist? That Erik Selvig?” Natasha sat up, and you groaned, pulling her back to lay next to you.

“Yeah, thought you’d like that. Mark your calendar, it’s next Sunday”

“Yes! This is so cool! I can’t even begin to thank you”

“You can certainly try” you said, your hand forcing her to look away from the tickets and turn to meet your mouth. Natasha melted against your touch and this time, you let the kiss last a bit longer. You broke apart, breathing heavily. 

“That’s a good way to thank you” Natasha said in a daze, chasing your lips for more.

—

Natasha left you at the door of your home. 

“Did I thank you already?” she said as she opened the car door for you.

“Anything for my girl”  you sighed against her lips, making Natasha blush. It was your favorite thing in the world. “Drive safely and text me when you’re home”

When you walked in to the house, everything was peaceful. You were constantly out with friends, so your family didn’t notice anything strange. It was also the fact that you lived in a huge house, and it was only four of you -well, five, if you considered Bucky-. Either way, your dad was probably golfing and your mom was out with one of her friends. 

Before going back to your room, you walked to your brother’s, hoping he was home.

“Come in” he said, dropping the book he was reading and smiling as you leaned on the doorframe. “Why do you have leaves on your hair?” 

“Oh” you ran your fingers through your hair, hoping Steve wouldn’t notice you blushing. “Uh, I was at the park. But that’s not important. I wanted to ask you something” 

“What is it? Come on” he gestured for you to sit and you closed the door, playing with your hands as you avoided his eyes.

“Do you think Mom and Dad would be mad if I dated someone?” 

“Why? Are they a bad person?”

“No!” you turned to look at him. “Quite the opposite, she’s the most amazing, thoughtful and brilliant girl”

“Does she have tattoos?”

“No” you laughed, although the image of Natasha with tattoos was strangely alluring.

“And she doesn’t have a motorcycle?”

“She drives a Volvo. And she wears her seatbelt, makes me wear mine, never goes above the speed limit”

“There you go” he nudged your shoulder, knowing you weren’t saying everything.

“I just think… considering everything that happened during the summer… maybe they’d be overprotective or something. And I don’t want to be fighting about curfews or rules they’ll set. I might as well just tell them I’m going out and not say more than necessary”

“And if they find out the truth? That you’re dating someone but kept them in the dark? That’s only gonna make them distrust you. And it’s never been who you are” 

“Right. I’m just so happy and I don’t want anything to change.”

“It won’t” Steve said, his arm going around your shoulders. “And they love you, but you gotta be honest”

You nodded, knowing he was right. You hugged him. 

“So, you and Romanoff” 

“How did you…?” you broke apart, looking at him.

“Call it brother’s intuition. Congrats. She seems nice”

“She is” you agreed, standing up to leave. “I won’t interrupt you any longer” 

You were about to close the door when he called after you.

“You know what happened wasn’t your fault”

“It wasn’t yours either. And I wish Mom and Dod would understand” you said with a sad smile. Steve nodded, going back to his book.

You hope he’d believed your words.

—

Chemistry was your new favorite subject. It was a whole hour where you could sit next to Natasha, write little notes that she’d read over your shoulder and then watch her in full focus, her eyebrows furrowed as she completed each exercise.

Today, you were doing solutions with different concentrations. Natasha did all the math, only asking for the proper amounts to create each solution. You were happy to take the role of assistant.

“Hey, Nat?”

“Yes?”

“Are you a carbon sample? Because I want to date you” you said the pick up line with a cheeky smile, enjoying the way she was all flustered. 

“Uhm… good one” she chuckled, looking back at the flask. “I think we’re done. Should we call professor Fury?”

You turned to look at him, and noticed he was explaining some stuff to Wanda and Pietro. The rest of the class was still working, so you made the most of your little corner at the back of the room.

“In a minute. I guess I just want you to know… we should go back to my place and form a covalent bond” you whispered, kissing her. She groaned against your mouth, but you pulled away with a smile, turning to call professor Fury. “We’re done!”

Natasha had to force herself to focus on Fury’s review, asking you both questions about the exercise. She was grateful you took the lead, because all she could think about were your lips on hers.

You never kissed at school. Actually, you barely interacted when in class. Natasha wasn’t sure if it was a normal thing; to be fair, she had never dated anyone. 

As the class ended, you leaned on her side.

“You ok? Sorry, I was being a bit naughty. It won’t happen again” you promised, thinking she might be upset because you distracted her during class. 

“No, it’s not that.”

She didn’t really know what it was. Natasha wasn’t used to public displays of affection. She also wasn’t used to feeling all hot and bothered every time you were around and from time to time, she felt a tightness in her pants that was not new, but very much hard to control. 

“Well, see you later to complete the assignment?”

“My place. Yes” she nodded. You squeezed her arm, walking down the hall to your next lesson.

As for Natasha… well, she had to take a quick detour to the bathroom before Advanced Calculus.

—

The school parking lot was always a bit too loud as the day ended. Plenty of people hung around their cars, talking before leaving.

Natasha had a habit of parking away from everyone else, closer to the teacher’s area. As every Wednesday since she had joined the cheerleading team, Yelena stayed behind for practice so Natasha drove back home alone. 

This time, as she was leaving the school premises, she heard your laugh. Looking around, she found you next to Pietro and Steve, but what really caught her eye was the way Wanda was holding you. She had her hands around your waist, head resting on your shoulder as you leaned back on her front, still talking to Pietro.

A mix of jealousy and loneliness hit the girl. And it all clicked for her. You still had lunch with your friends and hung around after school. 

Maybe you were ashamed of Natasha. She looked away, walking to her car and throwing her bag in the passenger’s seat.

—

Your presence at the Romanoff residence was becoming frequent. This time, you arrived with Yelena.

The blonde went inside, still humming the song you used for practice. You knocked on Natasha’s door, eager to greet her. 

“Hey” you smiled, but immediately noticed she was upset. You kissed her cheek and sat on the bed, sighing. “What’s wrong, Natty?”

“Nothing” she said too fast for your liking.

“Nat” you asked. “Anything it is, just tell me. Please?”

“I… I saw you with Wanda”

“I’m always with Wanda, you’ll have to be more specific” you shook your head, confused.

“At the end of the day. The way she was holding you”

“Oh, that. She’s my best friend. And she likes boys. But I’m sorry if it made you feel jealous”

“It’s not just that” Natasha said, forcing herself to speak up. She had never been good at standing her ground. “We hang out here, or at the mall. Anywhere but school. And I’m just wondering if you’re… ashamed of me”

“Nat…” you stood up, reaching for her hand. The sad look on your face made Natasha regret her words instantly. She was about to apologize when you spoke. “I’m sorry, I assumed that you weren’t a fan of drawing attention. You know how people at school are, always gossiping. And we haven’t really talked about… are we dating or not? Don’t get me wrong, I’m dying to call you my girlfriend but I’m just not sure that you want to…”

Natasha stopped your rambling with her lips. You were grateful for the interruption, smiling into the kiss.

“I’ll take that as a yes”

“Yes” she nodded, her nose tickling you.

“Ok, then. We can figure this out little by little. And I’m really sorry for making you feel that way” 

“It’s ok”

“No, it’s not. Promise to always tell me when I screw up. I’ll make it right”

“You don’t have to” 

“There’s a new zombie movie” you offered, making Natasha laugh. “I’ll buy the popcorn too”

“How can I resist?” she agreed, hugging you and you relaxed in her arms.

��

“And then they threw her around, it was so cool” Yelena gave Natasha a summary of her practice on the way to school, even if she had already heard all about it during dinner last night.

“Are you still going to the start of the season?” Natasha asked, remembering the first game was this Friday.

“Yeah, to see how it’s done. Y/N is a great coach, too bad she didn’t want to be the captain anymore”

Natasha was quiet for the rest of the ride. You seemed fine with not being as involved with the cheerleading squad, but she still wondered why you’d quit so suddenly. 

Was this the kind of thing a girlfriend would ask? 

She was still thinking about it as she walked to the school entrance, Yelena finding her friends and saying goodbye with a wave of her hand. Natasha was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t notice you until you reached for her hand.

“Morning” you greeted.

“Hey”

“So, I’m not gonna kiss you because everyone’s here and I don’t want to overwhelm you. But… wanna have lunch with me later? We can eat outside, I know you hate the noise at the cafeteria”

“Yeah, I’d love that”

“And, would it be ok if Wanda and Pietro join us? So they can meet my girlfriend and see how awesome she is”

Natasha couldn’t help to smile at the word girlfriend. 

“Sounds nice” she agreed and you nodded, squeezing her hand before walking to your class.

There was a pleasant feeling in Natasha’s stomach as the two first periods went by. When the bell for lunch rang, you were already outside her classroom, waiting to walk together.

“Come on, I already got you food” you said, walking with a smile to a set of trees where you and the twins had lunch from time to time. 

“Hey, Maximoffs”, you greeted as soon as you sat, motioning for Natasha to take the spot next to you. “You know my girlfriend, Natasha”

Pietro whistled and Wanda laughed. 

“Now we know why she never hangs with us on the weekends” Wanda said, and Nat had a hard time figuring out if she was upset or not.

“Oh, speaks the girl who ignored us the entire summer over an English lad” you said in a bad accent and Pietro followed suit.

“Bloody true!” 

Wanda rolled her eyes but laughed.

“So, what are you two doing this weekend?” Wanda asked and you looked at Nat, encouraging her to answer.

“Well, there’s this new zombie movie…”

“Virus X! Take me with you!” Pietro interrupted.

“Fine. But no complaining when we kiss in the middle of the movie” you warned him. “Wands, wanna come too?”

“I think I’ll stay and study for Algebra. If I don’t hurry up, I’ll fail the class”

“Well, I could help with that” Natasha offered and you smiled.

“Baby, that’s a great idea” 

“Aww, baby” Pietro mocked and you threw a napkin at him. Natasha blushed and you kissed her cheek. 

“Don’t mind them. They’re evil”

“I will, however, take any help I can get to pass my test, so thanks Nat” 

Your girlfriend nodded, and began to ask questions about the subjects Wanda was studying. With a smile, you saw her interacting with your friends, knowing she was making a great first impression. Pretty soon, you imagined all of you hanging out; maybe Yelena would join too.

“You seem happy” Natasha commented as you walked back to class. 

“I am. Thanks for making me feel that way” you smiled, turning to enter the classroom. 

You didn’t need to look back to know Natasha was blushing and smiling at your words.

—

Friday finally came, and Yelena was a ball of energy as the Romanoff family drove to the first game of the season.

“This is nice” Melina commented as they got out of the car. “All of us here to support our coach and very talented cheerleader”

“I think Natalia is here for someone else” Yelena said and Natasha elbowed her. As usual, Alexei was oblivious to any exchange, going to meet the team for a review of their strategy for the game.

Yelena left as well to find the other girls, leaving Melina and Natasha at the bleachers, looking for a spot to sit. Natasha was able to spot you, walking out next to Yelena, smiling at her excitement. You looked up, eyes meeting hers briefly and smiled.

“I’m so happy Y/N is mentoring Yelena. She’s a great girl” Melina said, not missing the eye contact.

“Yeah. It doesn’t hurt to have someone babysitting Yelena at all times”

Melina laughed at that. For the rest of the night, you tried to focus on the action happening at the field, but could tell Natasha was staring from time to time. Though Nat and Melina didn’t understand much of sports, the way Alexei screamed confirmed Shield High had won the game. 

Yelena joined the family in the parking lot.

“Did you see me throw that pom pom? It was so high!”

“Congrats, malyshka” Alexei said, hugging his daughter.

“Thanks, Papa. Also, you stink a little”

“Well, let’s all go so your father can shower” Melina gave Natasha the keys to the car.

“Mama, there’s a party, can I go? Tomorrow’s Saturday, I can stay up a little later, right?”

“I have meetings tomorrow and your father’s too tired to drive you, Yelena. Maybe other time, yes?”

“Ok, I guess I’ll tell Y/N we won’t make it, Nat” Yelena casually mentioned your name, knowing what it would cause.

“I’ll drive us” Natasha blurted out. 

“Great! It’s settled, then!”

The girls sprinted to the car, while their parents stayed behind.

“Natasha going to a party? Our Natalia?” Alexei scratched the back of his head. “What do you think is that about?”

“I have a theory. Don’t worry too much about it, my darling” Melina said, patting his back. 

—

There was around twenty people at your house by the time Natasha and Yelena came inside. Everyone was gathered around the pool, away from the main house. Yelena greeted a girl that was new in town, Kate Bishop, and left her sister alone. Thankfully, you spotted her across the yard and went straight to her.

“I’m surprised you wanted to come!” you greeted your girlfriend, pulling her by the arm to walk with you.

“I thought you told Yelena to invite me”

“No, I told her we could go out for dinner because it’s gonna be too loud here. My message was not delivered, huh?” you rolled your eyes. “We can go to my room if you don’t like it here”

“It’s fine” Natasha said, more to herself than to you. This was the first high school party she had ever attended. The football team was here, with some other girls from senior year and your brother. She didn’t know anyone but you, but she had to try and be social, at least for once.

“Pepper’s here, she needs some help with the food. I’ll be right back” you promised, leaning to kiss her cheek.

Natasha sat in one of the chairs by the pool, trying to keep her anxiety at bay. Maybe she’d take you up on that offer and go to your room instead.

“Hey” a guy greeted her. He had black hair and a permanent frown. “I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of our parties before. I’m Rumlow”

“Oh, I’m here with Y/N” 

“You must be quite the party animal yourself, huh?” the boy smiled, but Natasha stared, confused. “Oh, come on. You know Y/N. She loves to play drinking games, stay up until late… says people who don’t even drink beer are boring”

That didn’t sound like her girlfriend at all, but the look that Rumlow gave her was making her uncomfortable, and she didn’t feel like calling him out on his bullshit.

“Here. Have a drink”

“No, I’m good” 

“Come on. She’ll think you’re boring if you don’t” he warned her. Natasha sighed, taking the cup. It smelled worse than the vodka his father brought back from Russia. “Just drink it all. It will taste better that way”

Natasha took a deep breath, and then a giant gulp of the liquid. It burned her throat, making her cough. Rumlow laughed, his hand squeezing Nat’s shoulder a bit too harsh and walking away.

The girl felt the need to throw up, pee or pass out and wondered what would happen first. The only thing that brought her back to reality was your hand on her cheek.

“Baby? Nat, are you ok?”

“Fine” she answered, her breath alerting you of what happened. Shit.

“Steve” you searched for your brother. He was next to you in an instant. “Who gave her alcohol? We’re not supposed to have any, you know the rules”

“I don’t know” Steve said, taking Natasha’s hands. “Let’s give her some water, she’ll feel fine soon, ok?”

Across the yard, you heard Rumlow laughing. You always hated him; hell, most of the school did, and his mocking words only made your blood boil.

“Careful, looks like she’s gonna piss herself” 

“What did you do to my girlfriend, you asshole?” you walked up to him. Steve went after you, knowing you were too impulsive when provoked by guys like him.

“Girlfriend? Seriously, that loser? Can’t even hold the shot I gave her” 

“I’m gonna kill you” you threw a punch, just like Bucky had taught you. It landed square in his nose, making it bleed.

“You bitch” he didn’t get to you, because Bucky and Steve blocked his path, pushing him all the way to the front door. 

“Never come back, asshole” Bucky warned him. “The rest of you, party is over”

Ignoring the pain in your knuckles, you went to sit next to Natasha, offering her a glass of water. She drank from it, sighing when her head stopped spinning.

“I’m sorry” 

“Don’t be. He’s an idiot. And I’ve wanted to punch him in the face for a long time now”

“Speaking of which…” your brother offered you a pack of ice. “Here. Nice punch, sis. Maybe you can be a boxer now”

“Pass” you smiled, placing the ice against the bruised skin. Yelena brought Nat another glass of water and after half an hour, you could tell she was a lot better. “Let’s get you home, ok? Or maybe you both can stay here and I’ll keep an eye on Nat”

“No, our parents will know something’s up. I’ll stay with her and text you if anything happens”

You nodded, pulling Nat with you. Bucky drove Natasha’s car, Steve following behind on Bucky’s car so you three could go back home. The ride was silent, your hand squeezing Nat’s as she enjoyed the night air. By the time they reached the Romanoff house, she was completely awake and only a bit nauseous.

“Come on, sestra” Yelena grabbed her gently by the arm, making sure they didn’t wake their parents as they went up the stairs.

You stayed on the front door until the lights went out again, feeling like the worst person in the world. Defeated, you climbed to the passenger seat, Bucky driving back to your home.

“Y/N”

“Bucky, don’t”

“It’s not your fault”

“Natasha’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met and yet, it seems like I’m always making her feel insecure or like she’s not enough. Maybe I’m just not good for her”

“Hey, this is all on Rumlow being an ass, ok? Don’t beat yourself up for it” Steve said, his arm on your shoulder.

“Yeah. The beating you gave him was enough for a day” Bucky said and the three of you laughed.

“Thank you for stepping in”

“Yeah, he’d be dead if we hadn’t” Steve said, sure that you wouldn’t let Rumlow go without a fight.

—

Pain. Confusion. Too much light. And noise. 

Natasha felt all of those things as she struggled to open her eyes. She groaned, turning to look around. This was Yelena’s room.

“Oh, good. You’re up” her sister walked in, holding a glass of water. Natasha took it, drinking the entire thing. “I’ll text Y/N. I don’t think she slept at all, asking me every hour to check on you” 

“I’m never drinking, or standing near a bottle of wine again in my life” 

“How much do you remember?” 

“Enough to feel like an idiot. Was Y/N upset?”

“Well, yes. She punched that dude right in the face. It was awesome”

“I mean… at me” Natasha sighed, feeling like she had screwed everything up.

“Why would she be mad at you, Nat?” Yelena’s phone pinged again, and she showed the message to her sister. “See? She’s asking if you need anything and if she can come over” 

“I better shower. Thank you, sestra”

 Yelena nodded, looking tired and ready to sleep for the next few hours. Natasha took advantage of the fact she had the bathroom to herself, enjoying a warm shower. By the time she came out, her mind was clear and she was eager to see you. Natasha felt the need to apologize.

“Coming” she said as soon as the doorbell rang. “Hi”

“Hey, baby. How are you feeling?” you said, smiling at her. You cradled her head in your hands, massaging her temples. “You had me worried sick”

“I’m sorry” she said, melting against your touch.

“Don’t be. Here. I brought you something light to eat. And some painkillers in case you’re out” 

“Thank you” she took your hand, leading you to the kitchen. “Dad’s out and Mom’s working” she explained, pulling out two plates to share the food.

“That’s ok, I’m not hungry” you declined with a tense smile.

“Is everything ok?” she reached for your hand and you hissed at the contact. Laughing, you showed her your bruised knuckles.

“Guess I punched him too hard”

“Did you get checked by a doctor? Are you ok?” Natasha leaned forward, looking concerned.

“My dad said it’s fine. Mom was a bit upset, but Steve convinced them Rumlow had it coming” 

“I got you into trouble, I’m sorry” Natasha shook her head. What the hell was she thinking?

“Hey, that’s not true… I’m the one who’s sorry. I feel like I’m always making you do things you’re not comfortable with and I hate it, Nat. You’re all I care about, but I feel like I’m screwing up and hurting you in the process”

“I just know you’re used to hanging around a lot of people from school and don’t want you to give that up for me, ya know?”

“I kinda have to be social because Steve and Bucky love to throw parties. I’d rather watch movies with you or literally anything else, Nat”

“Really?”

You nodded, closing the distance between you too. Your lips met in a short and sweet kiss, and you felt her smiling against your mouth.

“I do have something to tell you… about a thing that happened this summer” you rolled up the sleeve of your shirt, showing a big scar on your arm, close to your elbow. It looked fairly recent. “So, you know how we go to the Hamptons at the start of the summer, right? And there’s always the usual people. One of them is this jerk, Tony Stark. He’s always messing with us because his parents barely spend time with him”

“Did he hurt you?” Natasha asked, squeezing your hand.

“Well, they were playing tennis and made a bet. If he won, Steve would have to give him his car for the day. And I’d have to tag along. Steve said no, but I was just so annoyed at Stark for always getting on my nerves that I agreed. Except I forgot Steve is a really bad tennis player” you laughed, Natasha smiling, but waiting for you to continue. “So, we drove around for a while. And at some point he thought it would be funny to go on a different lane and just drive like a complete idiot. I really did ask him to stop, but Stark wouldn’t listen and then… we got into an accident”

“That’s how you got this scar”

“Yeah, I broke my arm and hurt my spine, which is why I had to step down from the cheerleading team. And I had thought about it before, but I guess it’s different when you decide it by yourself, instead of being forced by circumstances… My parents were pissed at Steve, Stark got in massive trouble as well and I don’t know, being with you was the one good thing I’ve had in a long time. But I feel responsible and like I was an idiot and yesterday I got so scared you’d get hurt because of me” 

“I’m fine” Natasha promised, searching for your eyes. “I’m here, nothing happened”

“Maybe I’m not good enough for you, Nat; you’re always so kind and thoughtful. I’d hate myself even more if something happened to you” 

“It won’t, ok? From now on, it’s us. And maybe some time Yelena”

“And Pietro and Wanda” you said, smiling.

“Thank you for telling me about what happened”

“I trust you. And you should know that my parents are a bit protective right now so when I tell them we’re dating, they might want to interrogate you… and take you for a driving test as well”

“Anything” she promised. You leaned forward to kiss her again. This time, you deepened the kiss, running your hands through her hair. “I love it when you do that” she mumbled against your lips.

“Do what? This?” you teased, running your tongue along her lower lip, feeling her moan against your mouth. 

“We eat there!” Yelena stormed in, groaning. “Get a room. Yours is literally upstairs” 

“Yelena, where are your manners?” Melina said, joining the three of you. Your eyes widened, surprised to see Mrs Romanoff. 

“Babe, I thought you said your mom was working?”

“She was”

“And now I’m home. Let’s have a talk in my study. Natalia, Y/N?”

“Good luck” Yelena blurted out, escaping to hide in her room. You grimaced, looking between your girlfriend and her mother. 

Well, time to come clean.