#anyway this gorgeous gorgeous man was performing

[thesingingrevolution]

giggled so hard basically that cool and nice and sweet guy in my dance club was performing a choreo i love and he adapted a part where he kneels down and points to the audience and i was there watching with a few friends and this man looks me in the eyes and smiles and points at me yeah i felt like i was at an actual concert and got noticed by a fav it was so sick i loved it so much i was literally giggling so embarrassing 🦋🦋🦋🦋

[ghostlemon36]

Just got home from the P!nk concert and I’m having feelings

[veganhamsalad]

My distaste for reanimating dead performers at damn near any capacity vs the all consuming grief that drives me to do things that make me feel like they’re back, even just a little

[xiaq]

I want an AU where Steve is a werewolf and Eddie is a vampire except neither of them know about the other.

Eddie is the frontman of an up and coming band, but he's left his coven and surrounded himself with humans. They perform after sunset anyway so it's easy enough for him to hide his nature.

Steve has similarly left his toxic family pack and built his own pseudo-pack through the kids. He works as a park ranger. Or an ornithologist. Or something else nature-y/nerdy. But no one knows about his furry little secret.

Maybe Steve ends up attending a concert with one of the kids who has VIP passes and Eddie zeros in on Steve immediately at the meet and greet because he's pretty and preppy and delightfully out of place and also he smells good. And Steve is having similar thoughts, but he tries to play it off because there's no way an honest to god rock star would be interested in him and his polo and his boat shoes (also his hearing is temporarily fucked from the concert, so he doesn't register Eddie's lack of heartbeat).

After some light flirting, Eddie invites Steve back to his hotel and Steve is like, you know what? Yes. I am going to have a one night stand with the gorgeous front man of a metal band and I'll probably fall a little in love with him by the end of the night and it will break my heart when he kicks me out in the morning, but it will be an experience. Let me go drop off my kids and I'll be right back.

Except what he doesn't know is Eddie is planning to have a little snack while they're in the throes of passion––not enough to hurt Steve or anything, just enough that he'll have a pleasurable blackout and wake up tired but sated.

The only problem is that neck-biting (that breaks the skin) for wolves is the equivalent of marriage.

So when Eddie bites Steve, instead of a venom-drunk human, peacefully slipping into sleep in his arms, he gets a very horny, very confused, werewolf who is now insisting that they're married.

I can't decide if it would be funnier if Wolves/Vampires didn't know about each other, Ie:

"You're a Werewolf?" Eddie says, "What do you mean you're a werewolf? Werewolves exist? No. Shut up. Prove it."

And:

"Holy shit. A vampire. Vampires are real," Steve reaches for Eddie's face and Eddie is so baffled by the everything of this situation that he lets Steve pinch Eddie's top lip and peel it up off his fangs for a mortifyingly long moment. Eddie draws the line when he starts poking at Eddie's incisors, though.

"Why do I feel funny?" Steve mutters. "Will your venom kill me?"

"How should I know," Eddie hisses, only a little hysterical, "I didn't know wolves existed until two minutes ago, I've never bitten a wolf before."

"And you won't be biting any others, mister. Infidelity is not ok."

The other option is that wolves and vamps DO know about each other but stay so isolated in their covens and packs (and loners are super unusual) that they never interact. So Steve and Eddie are both like, dang, I'd been raised to think all of your kind were smelly/ugly/gross, but you uh, don't fit into that box at all. Weird.

Regardless, Steve (still naked, probably) crosses his arms all huffy, like, "well, we're married now, you're not going to bite me and then cast me aside like some harlot," and Eddie is like "...I'm weirdly ok with this, actually. No arguments here." And eventually they live happily ever after.

[joelmillerisapunk]

Strangers

Stripper!Javier Pena x f!reader // almost 9k

Time stands still and it's only us, what we feel started way before we ever touched... must be from a different life been here before and it just feels right

summary: you meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number

warnings: mdni, 18+, javi is a stripper, he wears a man thong and gets pretty close to stripping it all off in public, there's cock and balls, unprotected p in v, f!oral receiving, lap dances for days, reader has breasts, a dress, and hair that can fall around her face and is internally conflicted about this man and his leopard thong, javi has a pov in this too

notes: i really don't remember what sparked this but here we are... it's been like a month or more of me working on this. I thought I was done and then I heard a single song and it pushed me to write even more. This was supposed to be just a smutty fic and then got some depth and I was like wtf. Anyway on to the thank yous, thank you to the 5000 people I have screamed to about this, and a massive thank you to @thundermartini for listening to me go on and on about this guy for a long time and then reading it for me love you baby! A special mention to @gothcsz for the thong idea, @evolnoomym, @milla-frenchy and @sawymredfox for being so supportive of this idea to @joelslegalwhre for reading and @syd-djarin for the moodboard

masterlist

The music thumped so loudly it seemed to shake the floor, the kind of bass-heavy track that rumbled through your chest. Your best friend’s bachelorette party was in full swing, and the rented penthouse buzzed with laughter, shrieks, and a significant amount of tequila-fueled chaos. The party planners had spared no expense, from the towering stacks of champagne glasses to the flashy male entertainment just about to take the stage.

And then, he walked in.

You couldn’t ignore the way the room seemed to shift when he entered. The man—Javier, as the MC introduced him—had an undeniable presence. Dressed in a tight police officer uniform complete with aviators, a fake badge, hat, and handcuffs, he adjusted his badge with a grin that screamed trouble. His dark eyes surveyed the room with the kind of confidence that could only come from knowing he was the main event. 

Every woman in the room, including you, took notice.

While your friends ogled and whispered not-so-subtle comments, you tried—and failed—to keep your eyes elsewhere. He was gorgeous, sure, but this wasn’t your scene. Loud parties weren’t really your thing. 

The first performance was for the bride-to-be, of course. When the lights dimmed and the music shifted to something playfully seductive, the room erupted into cheers and Javier made his way to the bachelorette. 

“Ladies,” he announced, his voice smooth and teasing as he pulled a pair of fake handcuffs from his belt. “I hear there's a bride-to-be here who’s guilty of breaking hearts. I’m afraid I’ll have to take her in.”

Your best friend shrieked with laughter as he arrested her, securing one cuff around her wrist and helping her onto a nearby chair. The room buzzed with excitement as he began to dance, every move deliberate and designed to tease. 

You watched the scene unfold, biting your lip to stifle your laughter. He was undeniably good at what he did. But you couldn’t focus on the theatrics as much as everyone else seemed to. Your attention had zeroed in on him—his broad shoulders, the way his shirt clung to his chest, and the effortless way he commanded every inch of the massive penthouse, the man was sex on legs. As he began to set up for the big finale, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Javier danced his way onto the makeshift stage in front of your bestie, spinning his hat off and tossing it with a flourish into the crowd. Almost causing a fight between a few of the women to break out.

His aviators followed, revealing deep, smoldering eyes that locked with yours for a moment too long. He’s just playing to the crowd, he has to look at all the women right?

The bassline shifted to a slower, dirtier rhythm, and he rolled his shoulders back, his body falling into perfect sync with the beat.

Then came the shirt.

He gripped the edges, peeling it off slowly, revealing inch by inch of sun-kissed skin stretched over a perfectly sculpted chest and arms. When he finally tossed the shirt aside, the room erupted in cheers and whistles.

And yet, all you could do was stare and clench your thighs together. Why was this affecting you so much? It’s just a party. It’s just a guy. Get a grip. But no amount of inner scolding could make you look away. Something about this man pulled you in.

His chest glistened under the soft glow of the light, each bead of sweat tracing a slow, tantalizing path over the chiseled contours of his body. Your breath hitched, captivated by the sheer allure of him—the way every ridge of muscle stood out, accentuated as his hand drifted slowly down his torso. He moved with deliberate ease, fully aware of the spell he was weaving, and the teasing smirk playing at the corner of his lips made it clear that he was savoring every second of all the attention he was receiving.

But it was when his fingers moved to rip off his belt that the real show began.

The collective energy in the room surged as Javier teasingly ran his hands down his sides, and in one swift, practiced motion, he reached for his waistband and yanked.

The rip-away pants came apart with a sharp, satisfying sound, sending the crowd into a frenzy. The noise, a mix of gasps, shrieks, and raucous laughter, echoed through the penthouse. But none of that registered as you stared at what had been revealed.

Javier stood unabashed and grinning in a leopard-print thong that left very little to the imagination. Every inch of his sculpted body was on display—toned legs, powerful thighs, and that tiny scrap of fabric barely holding itself together. The cut of the thong framed his hips perfectly, the deep lines of his V cutting down, drawing your eyes exactly where he wanted them to go. The thin fabric of the thong clung tightly to him, leaving the unmistakable outline of his cock on display, straining the limits of the material. Javier seemed completely unbothered by how much was on show.

Your face burned as your gaze dipped lower, catching a glimpse of something even more scandalous. The tiny scrap of leopard print couldn’t quite contain him—on the sides, the curve of his balls was slipping free. You swallowed hard, your pulse fluttering as he shifted his weight, the motion only emphasizing how precariously the thong was holding itself together.

The room exploded excitedly, women fanning themselves, throwing bills, and shouting over one another. But you could barely breathe.

And then, just when you thought the spectacle couldn’t get any more outrageous, Javier turned around with a deliberate, teasing spin, giving the room an uninterrupted view of his backside.

The thong was practically nonexistent, the thin fabric disappearing completely between the firm, sculpted curves of his ass. His glistening, muscular cheeks were on full display, round and perfectly defined, drawing another deafening eruption of cheers and whistles from the crowd.

Javier struck a pose, bracing his hands on his hips as he arched his back slightly, flexing for effect. He glanced over his shoulder with a devilish grin, clearly relishing in the chaos he was causing. The lights caught the sheen of sweat on his skin, highlighting every curve and line of muscle, leaving no question as to just how perfect he was from every single angle.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Your breath hitched and your pulse pounded so loudly in your ears it almost drowned out the music. Heat flushed through your body as your gaze lingered shamelessly on his backside, every inch of him a deliberate invitation.

After what felt like a torturous eternity, Javier turned back toward the crowd, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he surveyed everyone's reactions.

He strutted forward, running his hands up his torso and tossing a playful wink to the bride-to-be, who was practically falling out of her chair from laughter and shock. But his gaze kept flicking to you.

Your cheeks burned as he moved closer, spinning on his heel to give the audience another view. His movements were fluid and sensual, every roll of his hips and flex of his body perfectly in time with the music. When he leaned down to grab the bride’s hands to feel up his torso, his back arched in a way that emphasized the curve of his ass, and you bit your lip without thinking.

This man was a problem.

When he finally ended the dance with a flourish—dropping to his knees in front of the bride-to-be before flawlessly almost jumping back up to a standing position—the applause was deafening.

Javier laughed, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He took a playful bow, blowing a kiss to the bride-to-be before gathering his discarded pants and shirt. His bare torso glistened under the soft glow of the party lights, and the lingering smirk on his lips suggested he knew he had the entire room wrapped around his finger.

The girls were still cheering and clapping, their voices a mix of exhilaration and tipsy enthusiasm. But while the others were caught up in the wild energy of the moment, you felt a strange tightness in your chest, like the room had closed in around you.

You weren’t used to reacting this way to someone, and it unnerved you. The heat creeping up your neck was impossible to ignore, and no amount of pretending to be distracted by your drink could hide the fact that your eyes kept darting back to him.

And he noticed—like a magnet—his eyes locked onto yours.

Your stomach flipped.

For a split second, everything else faded; the noise, the laughter, even your own internal protests to look away. It was just him, standing there, looking at you with that maddening confidence.

Then he moved.

Javier began to dance again, hips rolling in slow, hypnotic circles to the bass-heavy beat. The fabric of the thong strained with every motion, but he didn’t shy away. If anything, he seemed to lean into it—one hand trailing down his torso to brush along the waistband, teasing as if he might remove it completely.

Your pulse fluttered wildly as he worked the crowd, making his way closer, dancing toward you.

Your breath caught as you tried to focus on literally anything else—your drink, the flickering candles on the table, the way your best friend was still howling with laughter. But there was no escaping the fact that Javier was now standing right in front of you, every inch of him radiating heat and presence.

“Having fun?” he asked.

You blinked up at him, your mouth suddenly dry. “Uh… yeah. It’s been… something.” Your voice wavered, betraying how flustered you felt. Something? Really? That was the best you could come up with? You scrambled for words, your brain short-circuiting. “I mean—great. It’s been great.”

Smooth.

His smirk widened. “Just great?” He leaned in slightly, the scent of his cologne—something dark and woodsy—mingling with the musky sheen of sweat on his skin. “Because you’ve been staring like you’re enjoying yourself a little more than tha?t.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Relax,” he teased, his grin softening into something warmer, more inviting. “I’m just messing with you. Now come on, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Let me make your night.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you replied, though your cheeks burned with the effort of maintaining composure. You crossed your arms to emphasize your refusal, but Javier didn’t look the least bit discouraged.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re good. Not yet, anyway.” He leaned closer, his voice just for you now. “But I’m more than happy to change that.”

Despite your best efforts, the laughter bubbling up from your chest betrayed you. He grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. But when you refused—again—he didn’t press. Instead, he winked, gave an exaggerated shrug, and moved on to another guest, leaving you strangely disappointed.

————

Later, after the performances ended and the room was quieter, you found yourself sitting on a chair in the back corner of the room scrolling idly on your phone, trying to drown out your lingering thoughts about him. A few drinks had loosened your resolve. You noticed a stack of glossy business cards on the table where he had tossed his hat earlier. Curiosity got the better of you, and you picked one up.

The card was sleek, black with gold lettering. At the top, in bold, elegant lettering, it read:

Elite Heat’s Javier Peña

To the left, there was a neatly organized list; a phone number, a Facebook link, which you immediately ignored, and a website address. But it was the bottom that made your breath hitch.

On top of a gold banner, the words Elite Heat: “The Best Sex Therapy” were printed in bold, confident lettering. 

To the right was a photo of Javier himself.

It wasn’t a professional headshot - far from it. It was one of those casual yet devastatingly attractive pictures that looked effortless but likely required perfect lighting and timing. He wore a grey long-sleeve shirt that framed his broad chest perfectly, the top buttons undone just enough to tease without giving away too much. His hand, however, made it impossible not to stare—casually slipping beneath the fabric, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his defined abs. The way the light hit his skin added a subtle sheen, making the whole image feel like a deliberate invitation.

For a moment, you just stared at the card. The combination of professional polish and brazen confidence made your stomach twist in a way that annoyed you.

“The best sex therapy, huh?” you muttered to yourself, raising an eyebrow at the audacity.

Curiosity got the better of you. You grabbed your phone and typed “Javier Peña” into Instagram. After scrolling through a few accounts that clearly weren’t him, you found the right one.

The profile itself was… an experience.

Picture after picture of Javier dominated the feed—some in his infamous uniform, others in casual attire, and far too many shirtless to be accidental. Every post was a masterclass in confident allure, and his captions were just as bold.

The comments were what really got to you, though. Endless lines of hearts, fire emojis, and thirsty declarations filled each post.

“Find something you like?”

His voice startled you so much that you almost dropped your phone. You looked up to see Javier standing in front of you, his shirt slung casually over his shoulder and he was wearing his uniform pants again. How long had he been there?

“I was just…” You trailed off, trying to think of a plausible excuse for stalking him online. His smirk told you he wasn’t buying it.

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning in closer than necessary. “You can follow me. Might even follow you back.”

“I’m not interested,” you replied, though the conviction in your voice wavered as he placed a hand on the back of your chair, caging you in.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. Your heart raced as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ll make you a deal sweetheart, one dance. If you hate it, I’ll leave you alone. But if you like it… well, you can give me your number when it’s over.”

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling faster than you wanted to admit. After all, what was the harm in one dance?

Javier’s confidence was infuriatingly contagious, and your curiosity was louder than the protests in your head. You nodded if only to prove to yourself that he wouldn’t get under your skin. A small, victorious smile curved his lips as he straightened, offering his hand. “Good choice.”

He didn’t give you much time to second-guess as he guided you to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the penthouse. Some of your friends hooted and hollered, clearly thrilled to see you in the spotlight. You, however, were hyper-aware of every step as Javier led you to a chair he had conveniently placed in the center of the room.

“Sit,” he commanded, his voice smooth but firm. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief as he waited for you to comply. Against your better judgment, you did.

The music shifted to something slower and sultrier. Javier grabbed his shirt from his shoulder, tossing it onto the floor. The movement was casual, but there was nothing casual about the way his toned chest and large arms drew every pair of eyes in the room. Including yours.

He stalked closer, and suddenly it felt like the room had disappeared. Just you, the chair, and the dangerously attractive man who seemed to thrive on the tension hanging in the air.

“Relax,” he murmured as he noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of the chair. “I don’t bite.” He winked. “Not unless you ask nicely.”

Before you could reply, he began to move.

It wasn’t the kind of dance you expected. Yes, it was provocative—every roll of his hips and glide of his body was designed to tease—but there was something more deliberate about it. He kept his gaze locked on yours, watching every flicker of emotion on your face. His hands didn’t touch you—not yet. Instead, they skimmed close enough to make you ache for the contact, only for him to pull away at the last moment.

He straddled the chair, his thighs framing yours as he dipped low, his chest hovering just inches from your face. His scent filled your senses, and your pulse quickened as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re even more beautiful up close,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched, and you hated how easily he could see the effect he had on you.

Javier straightened, his hands gripping the chair on either side of you as he moved his hips in a way that felt borderline illegal. He was close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him, but he still didn’t touch. The lack of contact was maddening, and the glint in his eye told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

The song ended too quickly, and he stepped back, leaving you feeling both relieved and oddly bereft. Your friends erupted into cheers and applause, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were fixed on Javier as he extended a hand, helping you out of the chair.

“Enjoy yourself?” he asked.

You swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much he’d gotten to you. “It was… okay.”

He laughed—a deep, rich sound that sent another shiver through you. “Just okay, huh? I’ll have to work on that.”

Before you could respond, he winked and disappeared back into the crowd.

——

An hour later, the party was winding down. The penthouse was quieter, and most of your friends had migrated to the couches or left altogether. You were nursing your last drink of the night when Javier appeared again, a shot glass in each hand.

“For you,” he said, offering one with an easy smile.

You eyed it suspiciously. “You didn’t put anything in this, did you?”

He looked genuinely offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’m hurt you’d even ask.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine,” he admitted, leaning in closer. “I did put something in it.”

You froze, and he smirked, finishing his sentence with a devilish twinkle in his eye. “It’s called tequila.”

Your laugh surprised even you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” he corrected, clinking his glass against yours. “Now drink up.”

Against your better judgment, you downed the shot, the burn of the tequila grounding you for a moment.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now, how about that number?”

Javier’s smile didn’t waver as he set his empty shot glass on the table. “Still hesitant, huh?” he asked, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

You shrugged, trying to appear unaffected. “I don’t make it a habit to give my number to strangers, especially ones who…” You gestured vaguely to his naked chest and the police hat perched crookedly on his head. “...do what you do.”

“Fair enough,” he said, the teasing edge in his voice softening. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it out to you. “At least let me follow you on Instagram..”

You stared at the phone, then at him. The sincerity in his tone threw you off balance, and the way his dark eyes searched yours made it hard to hold onto your skepticism. Against your better judgment—again—you took the phone and followed your account.

“Here,” you said, handing it back after following him.

Javier glanced at the screen, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing into the night with the same confidence that had drawn every eye in the room earlier.

Javi 

Javier leaned against the balcony railing outside the penthouse lighting a cigarette, the cool night air doing little to temper the heat still coursing through him. The party was still going inside, but his thoughts had drifted elsewhere—to you. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head at himself. He’d performed for hundreds of women, charmed his way through countless parties, but tonight felt… different.  

You’d thrown him off balance in a way he wasn’t used to.  

Sure, you’d laughed at his jokes and taken the shot he offered, but there was something in your eyes—an intoxicating mix of curiosity and resistance—that had him hooked. He wasn’t sure what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you tried to keep your guard up even as he chipped away at it. Maybe it was the way you watched him when you thought he wasn’t looking, like you couldn’t quite help yourself.  

Or maybe it was the way he couldn’t stop replaying that moment on the dance floor in his head. The way your breath hitched when he leaned in. The way your lips parted, as though you were holding back words—or something else entirely.  

The music from the party shifted the song echoing in the distance. Javier’s mind wandered as the melody pulled him into his own thoughts. It wasn’t just lust that gnawed at him—though, hell, that was definitely part of it. No, this was something deeper, something that felt unsettlingly like longing.  

He ran a hand through his hair, the grin he’d worn all night slipping away. He’d never been one for complications, especially when it came to women. His job was to entertain, to tease, to flirt—but he’d never felt this kind of pull before. It was like a spark had ignited when he locked eyes with you, and now it wouldn’t go out.  

For the first time in a long while, Javier wasn’t sure if he was in control.  

The lyrics to the song playing in the penthouse hit him square in the chest.  

Must be from a different life, been here before, and it just feels right. No, this ain't the first time for you and I, we ain't strangers.

The words struck a chord, leaving him standing there, staring out at the city lights, wondering how a single dance, a single moment, could unravel him so completely.  

It's like it's driving me closer to you, every step back pulls me right back to you…

Maybe you wouldn’t give him your number. Maybe this would end here, tonight, like all the other nights before. But as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and opened Instagram, his thumb hovering over your profile, he couldn’t help but think—this didn’t feel like an ending.  

It felt like the beginning of something he wasn’t ready to let go of.  

———

Back in your hotel room, you flopped onto the plush bed with a groan. The events of the evening replayed in your mind, Javier’s smirk and the heat of his gaze lingering longer than you cared to admit.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, reaching for your phone. A quick check of Instagram confirmed what you suspected—he’d already followed and sent you a message.

Javier: See? Now we’re not strangers anymore.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. His confidence was irritatingly endearing.

You: I don’t think Instagram follows count as a formal introduction.

His reply was almost instant.

Javier: What would count? Because I’m pretty sure that dance was more personal than most first dates.

You bit your lip, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. He wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t about to admit that.

You: Is this your usual routine? Flirt with everyone at the party, then slide into DMs?

Javier: Nope. Just you.

You stared at the screen, your stomach doing an annoying little flip at his words.

You: Why me?

The typing indicator blinked for a moment before his reply came through.

Javier: Because you didn’t throw yourself at me like everyone else. And because you’re cute when you’re pretending not to be interested.

Your cheeks burned as you read the message, but you couldn’t help smiling.

You: I’m not pretending.

Javier: So you are interested?

You: I didn’t say that.

Javier: But you didn’t deny it, either.

You sighed, realizing this conversation wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

You: Don’t you have better things to do than bother me?

Javier: Nope. Not tonight.

Before you could come up with a snarky reply, another message popped up.

Javier: You could come over, you know. Save us both the trouble of texting all night.

Your heart raced at the suggestion, and you hesitated, typing and deleting a dozen responses before settling on one.

You: Not happening.

Javier: Why not?

You: Because it’s late, and I’m not that kind of girl.

Javier: What kind of girl is that?

You: The kind that sneaks into a stranger’s room after one tequila shot and a few texts.

Javier: I’m not exactly a stranger anymore.

You stared at his message, your lips twitching at the boldness. Before you could type out another response, your phone buzzed with a notification. It was a photo. From Javier.

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the image preview before finally opening it. The picture was simple yet devastatingly effective: Javier, shirtless, sprawled on a hotel bed, the faint light casting shadows that only emphasized his toned chest. His dark eyes smoldered into the camera, and his messy hair added to the whole “devil-may-care” aesthetic he wore so well.

Javier: Feeling really lonely over here. Could use some company.

Heat pooled low in your belly and you groaned, tossing your phone onto the bed as if distance could break the spell he seemed to have on you. But of course, curiosity won out, and you grabbed it again, typing out a response before you could second-guess yourself.

You: Flattery and thirst traps won’t work on me.

Javier: Who said it was flattery? Just being honest.

You: Still not happening.

Javier: Okay, how about a compromise?

You: What kind of compromise?

Javier: Drinks. Just the two of us. Down at the hotel bar. Public place, no pressure.

You bit your lip, weighing your options. Saying yes felt like walking into a trap, but a part of you was curious—and maybe, just maybe, a little tempted. The idea of sitting across from him, away from the crowd, felt… different. Safer. Almost.

You: Fine. One drink.

Javier: I’ll take it. Meet you there in ten?

You: Fifteen. I need to change.

Javier: You don’t have to change for me, sweetheart. You already look perfect.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you tossed your phone onto the bed and rifled through your suitcase. Fifteen minutes later, you stepped into the elevator, your heart pounding with anticipation and nerves as you descended to the hotel bar.

The bar was dimly lit, with warm amber hues reflecting off the polished surfaces. The low hum of conversation mingled with the clinking of glasses, creating an atmosphere both intimate and unassuming. You spotted Javier immediately.  

He sat at a corner table, leaning back in his chair. He’d changed into a simple black button-down that clung to his frame in a way that was almost unfair. His gaze locked onto you the moment you entered.  

“Right on time,” he said, standing as you reached the table. He pulled out a chair for you, a small but unexpected gesture that caught you off guard.  

“Don’t get used to it,” you replied, settling into the seat.  

“Noted.” His smile widened as he slid into the chair opposite you.  

The server appeared almost instantly, and Javier gestured for you to order first. You requested a simple cocktail, while he opted for whiskey on the rocks. As the server walked away, his attention returned to you and it wasn’t long before they returned with them.

“So,” he began, leaning forward slightly. “What convinced you to come down here?”  

You raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Curiosity, I guess. Wanted to see if you were as charming one-on-one as you are with a crowd.”  

“And?” 

You took a deliberate sip of your drink before answering. “Jury’s still out.”  

He chuckled, “I’m not worried. I’m good under pressure.”  

The banter came easily, the conversation flowing in a way that surprised you. He was quick-witted, teasing without being overbearing, and as much as you hated to admit it, he was easy to talk to, it felt like knew him without knowing him. The more you spoke, the more you caught glimpses of the man behind the cocky facade—sharp, observant, and surprisingly thoughtful.  

Still, you made him work for it.  

Whenever his compliments grew too bold, you deflected with a teasing remark. When he leaned in a little too close, you leaned back, though you couldn’t ignore the thrill that ran through you each time he tested your resolve.  

“I like this game you’re playing,” he said after a while, his whiskey glass nearly empty.  

“What game?” you asked innocently.  

“The one where you pretend you’re not interested.” His gaze was unwavering, the heat in his eyes unmistakable.  

“I’m not pretending,” you replied, though the words sounded less convincing than you’d hoped.  

He tilted his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “No? Then why are you still here?”  

You opened your mouth to respond, but the truth caught in your throat. Why were you still here?  

Before you could come up with an excuse, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of electricity up your arm.  

“Listen,” he said, his voice softer now, the teasing edge gone. “If this isn’t what you want, just say the word, and I’ll back off. No hard feelings.”  

For the first time that night, you saw something unguarded in his expression—genuine sincerity that made your heart stutter.  You hesitated, your walls cracking under the weight of his words. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, or the way his thumb brushed against your knuckles, but something in you shifted.  

“Okay,” you said quietly.  

His brow lifted. “Okay, what?”  

“Okay… you’re not completely unbearable.”  

He laughed, the sound genuine and warm. “High praise.”  

“You know, I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” you admitted finally, your voice quieter than you intended. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea.”

His smirk softened into something gentler, his fingers still lightly brushing yours on the table. “Not everything has to be a good idea to be worth it, sweetheart,” he said.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Is that your life philosophy, or just your way of convincing women to give you their number?”

“Both,” he said with a shrug, his grin returning. “And it’s worked out pretty well so far.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tension between you eased slightly. The conversation shifted after that, the teasing banter giving way to something more genuine. He asked about your life, your work, your dreams—and for every question he asked, he shared something about himself, too. 

“I wasn’t always this guy,” he admitted at one point, swirling the remnants of his whiskey in his glass. “I used to be a cop. A real one. Back in Colombia.”

You blinked, surprised. “A cop? Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. DEA, actually.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? What made you leave?”

His expression darkened briefly, a shadow crossing his features. “Let’s just say… the job took its toll. And I realized I wanted something different. Something lighter.” He glanced at you then, a hint of humor returning to his voice. “Though I’m not sure stripping is what my father had in mind when I told him I was switching careers.”

The two of you laughed, and the conversation continued to flow. By the time your drinks were empty, you realized you were leaning forward, hanging onto his every word.

Javier glanced at the time on his phone and then back at you. “I hate to say it, but the bar’s closing soon.”

You nodded, a strange mix of disappointment and relief settling over you. “Guess I should head back to my room.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, as if weighing his next words carefully. “Can I walk you to your door?”

Your pulse quickened at the question, but you nodded. “Okay.”

The two of you rode the elevator in silence, the charged tension between you filling the small space. When you reached your floor, he stepped out with you, his presence at your side was both comforting and exhilarating.

When you finally stopped outside your door, you turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Well… this is me.”

“Home sweet hotel,” he said, his tone light but his gaze intense.

You fiddled with your key card, unsure of what to say. He didn’t push, didn’t try to move closer. Instead, he simply smiled.

“I had a good time tonight,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You swallowed hard, his words sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the tequila. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with unspoken possibilities, each one more tempting than the last. Then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft, hesitant at first—a test to see if this was really what you wanted. But the moment his lips moved against yours, everything else fell away. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch warm and steady as he deepened the kiss. 

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out,” you replied.

His smile was slow, almost lazy. “Careful, sweetheart. I just might take you up on that.” 

As Javier lingered, you found yourself hesitating. The way he kissed you had ignited something within you—something raw.

You opened your door but didn’t step inside, glancing back at him. "Well, you coming?”

He arched a brow, that teasing smirk returning. “You sure?”

You laughed softly. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

Javier followed you inside. The dim light of the room cast shadows across his face, softening the sharp lines of his features. He shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as he studied you.

“So,” he drawled, his tone playful but low. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

You swallowed, heat rising to your cheeks. “I think you know Javier.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his fingers lightly grabbing your wrist. He guided you to sit on the edge of the bed and his voice dropped an octave. “If we’re doing this, I’m in control, ¿entiendes?”

You nodded, and it must have been obvious how nervous you were.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands brushing your knees as he stepped between them. “This is supposed to be fun.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. He leaned closer, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Do me a favor,” he whispered. “Touch yourself. Just a little.”

Your eyes widened, your pulse skyrocketing. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “I want to watch you.”

When you hesitated, his hand trailed up your thigh, his touch light but maddening. “Go on beautiful,” he urged. “Show me how you make yourself feel good.”

Your breath hitched, heat rushing to your cheeks and pooling low in your belly. Javier leaned back slightly, giving you space but never breaking eye contact. His gaze was dark, commanding, and utterly unapologetic. He wanted this. Wanted you vulnerable, open, and completely at his mercy. 

You hesitated, your heart pounding like a drum, but the way his fingers skimmed over your thigh made it impossible to think straight. “Don’t be shy,” he murmured, his voice coaxing yet dripping with authority. “I want to see every bit of you, mi amor.”

Your hand trembled as it moved to the hem of your dress. Slowly, you slid it higher, exposing more of your thighs to his burning gaze. He walked back and pulled up a chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, but his eyes never wavered from you. The way he looked at you—as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world—was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. The praise sent a shiver through your body. You could feel your arousal building, the tension crackling between you like a live wire.  

Your breath shuddered as your fingers brushed the fabric of your panties, the dampness betraying just how much his presence, his words, his command, had affected you. You glanced at him, unsure, but his gaze was steady, his jaw tight, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse race. 

Slowly, you slipped your hand beneath the fabric, the first tentative touch drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. Javier's expression darkened with hunger, his composure unraveling ever so slightly as he leaned forward. 

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Let me see how beautiful you are when you can’t hold back.”

Your fingers began to move in slow circles, your body responding to your touch almost instinctively. The heat between your thighs grew, and your hips shifted slightly, seeking more pressure. The room seemed to shrink, the air heavy with the sound of your breathing and the faint rustle of your movements. 

Javier's eyes never left you. His own restraint was evident in the way his fists clenched, the way his chest rose and fell a little too fast. “I want to hear you. Don’t hold back from me.”

You whimpered, your movements becoming more confident, more insistent as you lost yourself in the moment. Every sound you made, every twitch of your body, seemed to light a fire in him. His control was slipping, and it was intoxicating to know that you were the one unraveling him. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “Keep going, just like that.”

Javier’s gaze burned into you, the tension in his jaw betraying how tightly he was holding himself back. But then, he shifted, his hands moving to undo the buttons of his shirt, one by one, exposing the golden skin of his chest. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if daring you to keep watching even as your own hand continued its rhythm. 

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, his voice dark and commanding, the sound vibrating through you. His shirt slid off his shoulders, and he let it fall to the floor. Then, his hands moved to his belt, the metallic clink making your breath hitch. He undid it in a single, fluid motion, the sound of the zipper following shortly after. 

Your fingers faltered for a moment, your breath catching as your focus shifted entirely to him. He stood before you, stripped of all pretense, his movements deliberate and sure. When he pushed his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, your gaze locked onto him, and your thoughts scattered.

He was breathtaking. The sharp angles of his hips, the sculpted planes of his abdomen, the sheer strength of his frame—it was as if he had been carved just for you. Heat coiled low in your belly, a visceral reaction to the undeniable evidence of his desire for you.

Your eyes traveled over him, lingering shamelessly, drinking in every inch of him. His dark eyes burned into yours, filled with a heat that left you both vulnerable and electrified.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze despite still being partially clothed. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing he could see—made your pulse race and your chest tighten with need.

The air between you crackled with an unspoken hunger, and you couldn’t look away, couldn’t hide how deeply he affected you.

His hand wrapped around his shaft, a groan slipping from his lips as he began to stroke slowly, matching the rhythm you’d set for yourself. “Look at me,” he said. “Don’t hide from me, nena.”

The sight of him, so confident, so completely at ease with his own pleasure, made your own need intensify. Your movements quickened, your body arching slightly as the tension in your core built. His gaze flickered over you, drinking in every shiver, every gasp, every movement of your hand.

“Dios mío,” he murmured, his strokes becoming faster as he watched you. “You’re so beautiful like this. I could watch you forever.” 

Javier’s hand stilled suddenly, and you watched as he got up, his body exuding confidence and unrelenting command. He stepped closer, towering over you where you sat, his dark eyes still heavy with desire. He leaned down, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his voice a seductive rasp as he said, “Come here.”

You hesitated, your heart racing, unsure of what he was asking. But he took your hand, pulling you gently to your feet, and his lips brushed your ear. “I want you to dance for me. Just for me.”

“I—I don’t know if I can,” you stammered, your cheeks burning. The idea made your pulse race, the vulnerability and intimacy of it all was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

His hands moved to your waist, steadying you. “Yes, you can, you’re perfect.”

His words wrapped around you, melting your hesitation. Slowly, you began to sway, your movements tentative at first, but his gaze never wavered, filled with encouragement and raw need. 

Your fingers found the hem of your dress, and you began to lift it, inch by inch, exposing your skin. His eyes tracked every motion, his breaths deep and heavy, fueling your confidence. The dress fell to the floor, leaving you in your underwear. You turned away from him, your fingers trembling as you unclasped your bra, letting it slide off your shoulders before finally slipping out of your panties. 

“Fuck, you are so beautfiul.”

You felt the power in his words, the way they stoked your courage and your desire. With each slow sway of your hips, you inched closer to him, the magnetic pull between you was impossible to resist. His heated gaze anchored you, igniting a fire that coursed through your veins.

You ran your hands down your body, over your curves, letting him watch as you closed the distance. His chest heaved as you straddled him and the tip of his cock brushed against your core, you froze, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. 

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “Just like that. Take your time, baby. Feel every second of it.

“Javi,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I don’t know if I—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupted, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. His touch was firm, guiding but never forcing. “You’ve got this, baby. Dance for me—on me. Take your time.”

The raw hunger in his voice undid you. He guided your movements as you began to grind against him, slow and sensual. Your body aligned with his as you slid against him, teasing him with every slow grind. His head fell back against the chair, his jaw clenched as he groaned your name. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands tightening their grip, encouraging your movements. “Just like that. Feel me, nena. Let me feel all of you.”

Slowly, deliberately, you adjusted, letting your slick pussy tease the length of him. The anticipation was maddening, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, his restraint barely holding. Then, with a deep breath, you angled yourself just right and began to lower yourself onto his length.

The sensation stole your breath as you took him inch by inch, your body adjusting to his size. His growl of pleasure rumbled through you, his hands guiding you down until you were completely seated. The stretch, the fullness—it was overwhelming and it felt so good.

“Now move, baby,” he urged, his voice strained. “Show me how good you can make us feel.”

You began to roll your hips, your movements slow and deliberate as you rode him, your bodies perfectly in sync. The connection between you felt electric, every thrust and grind drawing you closer together. His hands explored your body, his lips tracing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone as you moved, his murmured praises driving you to the brink.

Each undulation of your hips sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through you, and as you rode him, the world melted away, leaving only the two of you tangled in passion and ecstasy.

The sensation made you both gasp, his hands tightening on your hips as you began to move. “That’s it,” he groaned. “Ride me. Just like that.” 

The tension coiled tighter with every roll of your hips, the friction building to a fever pitch as Javier groaned your name like a prayer. His hands gripped your waist firmly, guiding your movements, his thumbs pressing bruising circles into your skin as if to anchor himself. The entire time his gaze stayed locked on yours, dark and intense, as if he wanted to memorize the way you looked in this moment—completely undone above him.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “You feel so damn good.”

The words lit you up, your pace quickening as you chased the edge, that blinding release that teased just out of reach. Your breaths mingled with his, sharp and ragged, the room heavy with the sound of skin meeting skin and the delicious symphony of your pleasure.

“Javi,” you gasped.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your back to cradle your face. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Something in his voice broke you, the sincerity laced with desire, the unshakable promise that he wouldn’t let you fall. Your body tensed, your movements stuttering as the first shockwaves of pleasure crashed through you, and you cried out his name as you shattered around him.

Javier didn’t falter. He held you steady, his grip firm as he ground his hips up to meet yours, pulling you through the aftershocks until you were trembling in his arms. The intensity of it left you breathless, and you slumped forward, resting your forehead against his as you tried to gather yourself.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice still thick with need, though his concern for you was evident.

You nodded, chest heaving as you caught your breath. “Yeah,” you whispered. 

“Your turn to relax. I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could respond, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he stood. A soft squeak escaped you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carried you across the room.

“Javi, I can walk,” you protested weakly, though you made no effort to pull away.

“I know you can,” he teased, “but I like having you right where you are.”

The bed was cool against your back when he laid you down, but his body quickly chased away the chill. Javier followed you down, his weight settling between your thighs.

“Now,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face as his gaze softened. “Where were we?”

Javier’s lips captured yours in a kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, savoring every second, and you couldn’t help but melt into him.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of heat as he paused to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. His hands explored you, tracing the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips before sliding lower. Every touch sent shivers through you, and you couldn’t hold back the soft gasps escaping your lips.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your skin. “Every inch of you.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched into him, your body aching for more. “Javi, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He chuckled softly. “Patience, sweetheart. You just taste so good.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your body arching involuntarily. “Javier, I need… I need you.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re so beautiful like this. All mine.”

As his lips moved lower, he pressed kisses to the sensitive skin of your thighs, his hands spreading you gently. The anticipation made your body tremble, your legs parting instinctively as you felt him pause, his breath hot against your core.

“Perfect,” he whispered, almost to himself, before he leaned in.

The first touch of his tongue made you cry out, your fingers clutching at the sheets as he worked you with slow movements. Javier groaned softly, his grip firm on your thighs as he held you open, the sound vibrating through you and heightening the pleasure.

Your hips bucked against him, and you gasped, “Javi, please, I’m so close.”

He lifted his head slightly, his lips glistening as he smirked at you. “I love hearing you beg for me, come on let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

His tongue and suddenly his fingers moved together in perfect rhythm, lapping, sucking and moving just right. The tension in your belly coiled tighter until it snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves that left you trembling. Javier didn’t stop until your body softened beneath his touch, his movements slowing as he kissed your thighs and worked his way back up your body.

By the time he reached your lips, you were breathless, your body buzzing with aftershocks. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

“How was that beautiful?” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours.

“Incredible,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his jaw.

Javier groaned softly at your touch, his restraint visibly fraying. He kissed you harder, his body pressing into yours as his arousal became impossible to ignore. “You sure you’re ready for more?” 

You answered by rolling your hips against him, earning a sharp inhale as he gritted his teeth. “I need you, Javi. Please fuck me.”

That was all it took. He positioned himself, his gaze locked on yours as he pushed into you in one slow, steady motion. The stretch was intense, and you gasped, clinging to him as your body adjusted.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. “You feel so fucking good, so damn tight.”

“Move..please,” you urged softly, your lips brushing his ear.

He obeyed, pulling back before thrusting in again, setting a rhythm that was slow but deep. Every movement drew you closer until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.

His hand slid between you, his thumb finding your most sensitive spot, teasing it in time with his thrusts. “You’re taking me so well.”

Your nails raked down his back, the pleasure building impossibly fast. “Javier,” you whimpered, your body tightening around him as the tension reached its breaking point.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his pace quickening as he chased his own release. “Come for me, give me one more.”

His words were your undoing. You shattered around him, your cries filling the room as pleasure consumed you. Javier followed moments later, his movements faltering as he buried himself deep, a guttural groan escaping him as he found his release.

For a while, neither of you moved, the room quiet except for the sound of your ragged breaths. Eventually, Javier rolled to the side, pulling you close against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips soft and tender.

He chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You laughed softly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “You’re not so innocent yourself, Javier.”

His smirk returned. “Get some rest, baby,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over you both. “You’ll need it for round two.”

[star--stilinski]

Going off on your “stiles being accidentally hot”. Think of like a beach date but then you notice how all the girls are looking at him but he’s obliviously stiles not realizing he’s gained muscle from all his lacrosse training

(Then you prove he’s yours) WHAT?! Who said that?!

(Sorry I’m a freak)

anon is referring to this post.

did i make this ask from a different account?? i feel like we type the same. also that last part looks like the one meme of the spongebob fish looking back... ykwim?? too lazy to find it.

i would like to apologize to all blondes about to read this fic. my condolences.

☆

scott is spraying stiles down, head-to-toe with SPF 50. the way the sunscreen looks on his skin as it soaks in is downright criminal, honestly, and it seems you're not the only one who's noticed.

there's a pretty blonde bitch staring at your boyfriend.

okay, well, wait a second there. she's not a bitch for admiring him. there's been no tell that he's taken.

yet.

you frown and take a drink of the margarita lydia asked you to hold. there's a lipstick stain on the can where her lips were imprinted, but that doesn't sway your gaze from the blonde as she takes notice to his newfound abs. they're not crazy chiseled like derek- but they're definitely there.

meanwhile, bless his heart, your idiot boyfriend is singing along to the song blasting from the speaker scott brought, and he's using the sunscreen bottle as a mic. he turns to you and points as he sings the lyrics like the performance is just for you, and this does make you smile.

"is that a fruity marg? for me?" he drops the sunscreen and takes lydia's drink from your hand. before you can protest, he's already taken a big swig, and there's a shine on his bottom lip when he swallows. "that is really good. wanna taste?"

"what? i already had a taste. besides, it's-"

and then he's kissing you, pressing the strawberry flavor into your mouth. you flush bright pink and he pulls away, bobbing his eyebrows at you with a grin. "good, right? sorry, you just look really nice in that swimsuit."

you're aware, with the way his eyes dip down to peruse over your cleavage and hips, that 'nice' is code for 'unjustly fuckable.' and you kinda wish he would say it. but alas, scott is calling his name to throw a football back and forth and you brought your book for a reason, so you part ways with a mutual look of longing.

from your spot on the beach, the veiw is great. the white sands, the pretty waves, your boyfriend's pecs, the blue sky. really, the scenery is hard to beat. stiles' hair is stuck to his forehead after getting dunked by isaac and liam. oh, and your book is good too. you've been stuck on the same page since you sat down.

and there's two younger teenage girls fawning over stiles under a canopy next to you guys. lydia swirls her half-empty drink and scoffs at their giggling, glancing at you. "don't tell me they're the ones getting to you."

"what ever could you mean?" you bat your lashes at her dramatically. "they're just young girls who can appreciate hard work on a man, anyway."

"those aren't young girls." lydia nods past you, eyes darting between something. when you turn your head to look, there's that gorgeous blonde again with what seems to be her friend. both of them are slim and tall, and totally hotter than you. and eyeing stiles, much more boldly this time.

"careful babe, you're showing your teeth." lydia turns back to her own book and languidly flips the page. you close your eyes and huff out a sigh.

"it's probably just the newfound biceps, right? and the hair. he deserves some flattery."

"go cool off, i can't focus with the smoke blowing out of your ears." lydia hums without looking up.

you stand. "i'm gonna go for a swim."

"watch for sharks."

you glare at the two women across the way. "yeah, i will."

but just as you begin to make your way to the ocean, the football the boys were throwing veers off course and rolls over to the two younger teenagers, stopping right at their bare feet. you pause, watching as if in slo-mo as stiles jogs up and apologizes, seeming oblivious to their blushing and giggling. one of them hands him the ball back, and he beams down at her gratefully. they squeal when he jogs off.

you don't realize your fists are clenched until you're already in the water. they're little girls! that is totally normal! why are you being so territorial, as if he's gonna even know they like him!

you splash some water on your face, calming at the gentle sway of the tide, the cool temperature of the ocean lapping at your skin. yeah, you're fine. it was just a blip. just a blip. you're chill.

you turn towards the beach to beckon lydia in, but halt as you see blonde bitch and her croonie talking to stiles closely. you're so not fucking chill right now-

cool it, take a breath. you clench your jaw and shut your eyes, grounding yourself. you will not play overbearing girlfriend just as soon as stiles is getting attention. he needs to know that you're not lying when you call him hot and sexy and pretty and everything else that is true. this is perfect confirmation.

your eyes open because you hear a pretty, high-pitched laugh. it's the blondie's equally-gorgeous friend, who tucks her hair back and bats her lashes at him. he rubs the back of his neck, which he usually only does when you get suggestive with him.

and then blondie caresses his perfect, freckled bicep.

oh hell no.

you storm out of the water and right up to their little conversation, grabbing stiles by the wrist. "hey, can i talk to you for a sec?"

but you're already moving, practically dragging him along behind you as you make your way to the edge of the open beach, where there's a large rock sectioning off what's open and what's not. you pull stiles around it, stomping through shallow water to reach a completely empty, private side of the beach.

you don't think about who could stumble over or how the long grass tickles your ankles- you're already pressing stiles up against the large rock and kissing him blind.

he makes an "mmph!" noise when you first crash your lips onto his, but enthusiastically returns the kiss with a hand sliding to the back of your head. you barely come up for air as you lap your tongue into his mouth roughly, hands splaying across his naked, smooth torso. you press your whole body up against his, needing more more more of him. you need him all over you, need him to know who he chose and why. your mouth travels to his neck, and it tastes salty sweet when you start the makings of a dark hickey.

"hoooly- i'm- i'm, uh, not suggesting you stop, like at all, but i am a bit curious on what i, uh- fuck- did to get here? j-just so i can..." his words trail off as your fingers trace underneath his swim trunks. a strangled noise leaves his throat when you press your hips into his growing erection, raking your teeth lightly across the new mark at the same time.

"stupid fucking girls practically throwing themselves at you," you mumble bitterly before going in for another heated kiss. "as if it's not obvious we're together."

he pulls back from the kiss and you open your eyes to glare at him, only to be met with a cocky smirk and wide eyes. "are you saying you're jealous?"

you pull your body off of his, shoving his shoulder lightly. "don't look so happy! she was practically stripping you naked with her eyes."

he cups your neck with his hand, reminding you of how big it is. stiles' eyes lose the self-assured glint and go soft, flitting all over your face as he parts his lips. "you're not mad, are you?"

"at you? no." you feel his other hand slide around your hip and over the top of your ass, pressing your body back up against his not-so-subtly. "at the girls practically prowling around you like you're some piece of meat? yes."

his eyes zero in on your lips as you lick them, furrowing his brow a bit like he has to focus in order to finish his thought. "i didn't even know she was flirting. i wouldn't have..."

but you don't let him finish, stretching up to kiss again and he deepens the kisses quickly, his hands pulling you in. you mouth down stiles' neck and chest, slowly sinking to your knees in front of him. before you got far, he was all breathy encouragement. but when you look up at him, face to face with his happy trail and low-hanging trunks, his jaw goes slack and his eyes glaze over in anticipation.

"oh, are we- are we doing-? okay, yep, yepyepyep i am very cool with this, yeah-" he helps you slide his trunks far down enough as you kiss along his subtle v-line. he sighs, brows upturned for you. "all yours, it's all yours."

you nod, smirking to yourself when he has to clamp a palm over his mouth as your hands begin what your tongue will soon replace.

☆

stiles stumbles out from behind the rock a little while after you, red in the face and littered in hickeys. scott turns to you with a scrunched up nose, feigning disgust. "dude. seriously?"

you blink at him, wide eyed. "what? i was just checking on a jellyfish sting!"

lydia raises her drink to you, not looking up from her book. "impressive time."

"you think so?" you smile sweetly at her.

"unless he's always that quick."

"you guys are disgusting." scott gags as he escapes you two.

☆

im gonna be late for work because of this

[celestialholz]

Live long and fuck in Hondas (or 'why that Vulcan salute is way more significant than you think it is')

Hey. Hey Holz. Did you know Deadpool and Wolverine fucked in the Odyessy? Did you know that they now live in a one-bed with Blind Al? Did you know that -

Yes, friend. I know all of it. And you're all super fucking valid for pointing it out.

... But maybe all of you aren't seasoned Trekkies like me. Maybe not all of you gorgeous people understand the true significance of this.

Or maybe you just want a definitive way to win the argument of "are these two fucking?"

But either way, I'm here to help, and to tell you why, amongst all the absurdly homoerotic text of this film, this moment? Might be the gayest of them all.

Now, we must start by saying that although you wouldn't know it from the bullshit Abrams films, these two:

Are the fathers of gay fanfiction. Spock and Kirk here are the reason you're living in the fantastic timeline where you can write/read men fucking without any other shred of plot and that this is a legitimate and normalised internet experience - everyone say thank you, iconic papas. These guys were so homoerotically coded that even in the 60s, the era of wondrously overdramatic performances of all kinds and fairly prevalent homophobia, The Girlies still took notice, still started mailing each other fics and making zines and being just hugely excited at the thought of these two getting space-married. They are fandom as we know it today's beginning, and seventy years later they're still an enduringly popular ship on AO3. (You should all go and watch Amok Time, by the way. Contains the Honda Odyessy scene of the 60s, except there's weird biology and wrestling and just go and put it on your screens, thank me later. They fucked on that planet.)

Anyway, these two were as close as early colour TV could ever allow two men to be, deepening their *coughs* friendship almost every single episode or film - Trek's creator Gene Roddenberry even gave them a unique word in Spock's Vulcan language, with the meaning of 'friend, brother, lover.' (And if that isn't ringing any Poolverine bells, I'm not actually sure what you want out of this post. Enjoy it anyway, love you.)

... And then we get to 1982's The Wrath of Khan, and to that moment that every iconic screen couple must face - the ol' classic, it's you or me and I won't let it be you.

Sure, the set-up's a little different here - the chamber Spock's in is filled with radiation, and the scene's quieter, softer. And Kirk isn't a mutant so he can't smash his way in, he can just sit there and inwardly die as his emotional support Vulcan does.

... But you get where I'm coming from here. Ryan Reynolds doesn't take a million other potential love scenes from across the cinematic ages - no, he takes this. What is for many the romantic acknowledgement of a whole generation. The humble and desperately sweet beginning of it everything we fans know and love nowadays. The most ambiguously romantic homosexual relationship in television, directly comparative to what is now arguably the most ambiguously romantic homosexual relationship in cinema. And lest we forget, Wade doesn't believe in a fourth wall - this is a conscious choice, both in canon and in the writer's room.

Oh it's so clever and so beautiful a girl could weep. Ryan just introduced the MCU to the gays, just as Kirk and Spock did all those years ago to the masses of the time.

And then there's what it means.

This is the Vulcan salute, created to mean either 'live long and prosper' or 'peace and long life' - it's used more or less interchangeably.

But part of that's irrelevant when you're as immortal as these two.

So we're left with the sentiments of prosperity and peace, given to a man who up to this point can't imagine ever prospering again, is the furthest thing away from being at peace. Wade gives Logan the opportunity to go on, to find the things he's been lacking for so long now - things he has already helped him find. Spock tells Kirk during The Wrath that 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,' and that's exactly what Wade's doing here - sacrificing himself for the greater good of his friends and his newly beloved, however much it will hurt them all.

And that's lovely, and poignant, and character-growing, and I think we all would have been content to leave it at that and have our noble sacrifice, however much we would have wept. Kirk goes on to find the remnants of Spock's soul in the next film in the series, to bring him essentially back from the dead because he felt it was more than his own soul's worth not to have done... which, again, ringing a bell anyone?

Because Logan, in not so many words, tells dear Wade to fuck right off, and we get this.

What we've got here is a direct translation of one of cinema's gayest moments, made somehow infinitely more gay. A true achievement here - I genuinely think I spontaneously acquired tetanus in the cinema for a good minute, my jaw dropped so hard on seeing this. The pillars are the same colour as Kirk and Spock's original uniforms, for fuck's sake. I'm dying out here.

What we've done here is create narrative equality. The whole film's kinda done that leading up to this anyway - they're both mentally fucked up men who can't die, who are constantly dying anyway, who are evenly-matched in battle and both enjoy Honda fucking, who have forged a real love even as they piss each other off at every turn.

But here, they place one another in narrative equality for the first time. It's not about a sacrifice, not now, even though they're assuming it is one - it's about what should be done. It's about righting wrongs, being heroes, being together because every option other than that is unacceptable, because neither understands quite how to lose anyone else. They've both made the same choice, and that's not to let the other die alone.

It's about holding hands and loving and never letting go, even if it kills them.

... It's just about the most romantic and gorgeous thing I've ever fucking seen.

There are no more instances of masks, once they're done in this station. They don't need them any longer; they will never need them again.

And that's only emphasised by the parting shot we get of this... almost directly after Vanessa and Wade share a final sweet look.

I don't know, man. It's almost like the true conclusion is hidden behind the acceptable masquerade. Imagine that in the MCU, folks.

They've taken one of the most intimate and sweet moments in screen history, and made even more glorious.

They did The Wrath of Khan better than The Wrath of Khan did it.

And that's... that's gay. That's just about the gayest thing they could ever have done, and I adore it to the smallest pieces.

So remember, the next time your friends disbelieve you... show 'em this. Show them that they redid the very beginnings of slash fandom, and did it better.

(And then you can add on that they now live in a one-bed with their grandma, daughter and dog, and will do for the rest of their lives. Kirk and Spock didn't even get THAT shit.)

[n0vazsq]

Pas de Deux | KR7 x Reader

pairing . . . young!kimi raikkonen x ballerina!reader

summary . . . When Kimi falls in love with a ballerina, he's invited into a dance of two (or, a pas de deux)

request . . . kind of?

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . minimal swearing! story is set in 2024 with the current 2024 grid but kimi pics are from the 2000s!! there wont be a lot of f1 comments so you can feel free to imagine whatever team kimi is in! kimi is like in his early 20s so the reader is 20-24! lets just pretend he was born sometime between 1999 and 2003

faceclaim . . . random ballerinas from pin!

alexavia yaps . . . I LOVE PAS DE DEUX ITS MY FAV CLQSSIC SONG AHHHHHH anyway i hope you guys like thsi!!!!!! i legit dk anything about ballet so IM SO SORRY IF ANYTHING IS WRONG!!

taglist . . . @barcapix (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

ballerinayn

liked by yourbsf, maxverstappen1, kimiraikkonen and 741k others

ballerinayn loved dancing in monte carlo to my favourite song today! well done to all the other ballerinas and see you in a few weeks! thanks to my amazing friend maxverstappen1 for attending!

click to view all comments

username MOTHER IS BACK!!!!!

username i can't wait to see her performance next week my friend got me tickets omg

username WHAT?? THATS SO LUCKY OMGG

username MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER

username why tf does she have half the f1 grid in her likes??

username shes friend with max, lando, charles, alex and pretty much every driver that lives in monaco

username doesnt kimi live in switzerland??

username yeah idk why hes in the likes

maxverstappen1 great performance y/n! you did so well!

ballerinayn tysm maxie!!

username SHES BACKKKK

username gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous omg

username we're so back

username SHES MY IDOL I GOT INTO BALLET BC OF HER

username my wife guys back off

kimiraikkonen Beautiful.

username YALLL KIMI RAIKKONENS COMMENT

username KIMIS COMMENT???

balletdemontecarlo

liked by ballerinayn, yourbsf, ballerina1 and 1.3M others

balletdemontecarlo could you spot the famous ballerinayn in today's pas de deux? 👀

click to view all comments

ballerinayn thank you for letting me perform on this amazing stage! such a great honour!

balletdemontecarlo it was our pleasure to see you perform!

yourbsf that's my best friend right there guys ����

ballerinayn i saw you in the crowd and almost broke character from happiness ❤

ballerina1 our swan queen 🦢

ballerinayn you did amazing out there!!

username who else cried when y/n was spun around by that guy??

username this was so emotional you guys

username SO PROUD OF MOTHERR

maxverstappen1 good job y/n!

ballerinayn aww thank you max <33

kimiraikkonen Loved the show. Come to watch a grand prix?

ballerinayn omg kimi!! im such a big fan 🥹🥹 so glad you loved the show!! and ofc ill come to a gp ❤ just contact my team with the details!

kimiraikkonen VIP tickets will be sent shortly after.

username KIMI?? I WAS NOT AWARE OF THIS RIZZ

username HELP NOT KIMI ASKING Y/N OUT IN THE COMMENT SECTION??

username i died shes so pretty

username no bc i fell to my knees watching this at home

username how to see mother y/n perform for free??

username try not to simp for y/n challenge: impossible

ballerinayn

liked by kimiraikkonen, yourbsf, f1wags and 891k others

ballerinayn thank you kimi for inviting me to the monaco grand prix!! really enjoyed it <3 and congrats on the podium! tagged: kimiraikkonen

click to view all comments

kimiraikkonen Glad you enjoyed!

ballerinayn <3

username KIMI SHOWING EMOTIONS?? THE EXCLAMATION MAKR??? THE HEART?? IM DEAD

username hear me out.... y/n x kimi

username HEARD

charlesleclerc so no congrats for me on the win?

ballerinayn SORRY CHARLIE I FORGOT

charlesleclerc betryal of the century right here

username the camera panning over to y/n every time kimi overtook im crying

username guys they have so much chemistry they must be a couple

username WHYYY HIM

username have you seen kimi???

username have you SEEN Y/N????

username MY WIFE GONE TO A MAN??

username its over for us </3

username yall delusional asl they legit could js be friends

username jS bE fRiEnDs

username f1 really ships them

username i NEED them to confirm or hard launch or ill kms

username FRRR LIKE THEY BETTER DO IT BEFORE I KILL MYSELF

kimiraikkonen

liked by ballerinayn, yourbsf, charlesleclerc and 2.3M others

kimiraikkonen Monaco.

click to view all comments

username these pics are WAYYY too aesthetic for kimi to have taken them

username i know this style of photography.....i see you ballerinayn

username THE FLOWERS??? WHOS THE PERSON>????

username THE PICS SCREAM Y/N YALL ARE NOT SLICKKKKKK

username idk who this guy is i just came because of mother y/n

username we need the gossip pages to track them down

f1waggossip on it 🫡

username THE WAY I SAW HIM WITH A GIRL WHILE WALKING WiTH MY MOM BUT I COULDNT SEE HER FACE ONLY THE BACK OF HER HEAD </3 BUT KIMI LOOKED SO HAPPY HE WAS SMILING AND YAPPING

username guys guys guys GUYSSSSSS charles posted a story and in the bg were kimi and y/n like talking and laughing and shi and he deleted like after 3 mins

username theyre friends??

username i hate this new couple

username DONT TORTURE JUST HARD LAUNCH

yourbsf 👀

username WHAT ARE YOU DOING HEREEEEE

username not yourbsf exposing their asses LMFAOOOOO

username man i love y/ns bsf

username "thank you yourbsf" we say in unison

username bro yall are so annoying like a girl cant even comment on her bsfs boyfriends post??

username didnt y/n and kimi kiss after his podium or did i forget to take my pills

username its the latter but i wish it was the former

ballerinayn

liked by yourbsf, maxverstappen1, kimiraikkonen and 822k others

ballerinayn rainy days around monaco with him>>>>>

click to view all comments

username WHOMST

username y/n pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee tell us who it is

username THE SWANS?? THE ARCHITECTURE?? THE STAR???

username reason of death: bitch ass y/n l/n and her sneaky ahh soft launches

username this is so her coded i cant

maxverstappen1 where was my invite?? lost in the mail??

ballerinayn maxie waxie axie you told me specifically "y/n if you ever invite to third wheel ill chop your arms off and use them as a table stand" so i think you didnt want to come <3

maxverstappen1 i-thats on me

ballerinayn it is it is

username oh so shes rich RICH 🤑🤑🤑 mommy y/n i need a sugar mommy 🥺

ballerinayn sorry that position is taken by pretty boy xx

username Y/N 😡

yourbsf 👀👀👀

ballerinayn what are you eye fucking

yourbsf you

yourbsf and charles

charlesleclerc ?????

username mother y/n feed us some soft launch crumbs

username QUEEN MOTHER MS SWAN Y/N COOKED THIS POST UP ONG ONG 🙏🔥

username if kimi posts like a similar typa thing theyre together

username im a f1 fan who came for the dating rumors but i mightve actually fell in love with y/n like imma full on start watching ballet for her

f1wagsss_

liked by waggossip, kimifanpage1, ynnlove82 and 391k others

f1wagsss_ f1 driver kimi raikkonen and ballerina y/n l/n reportedly seen together yesterday. do you think it really is them or is this from a fake source?

click to view all comments

username REAL REAL REAL REAL I WANT IT TO BE REAL PLS BE REAL I BEG FOR IT TO BE REAL

username ain't no way

username this must be photoshopped bc wtf how do they even know each other??

username so nice of you to intrude into people's private love lives!!

username i ❤ you for saying this

username MY GOATS ARE TOGETHER OH MY GOD

username its legit a dream come true if it is actually real

username they werent even trying to hide it oml

username WHEN WILL THEY CONFIRM

username STOP playing with usss

username i don't need any more pics i know what's going on

username i'm so delusional to think that this is real <3

(guys click on the second tweet bc its long so it doesnt show)

wags.international

liked by waggossip, f1wagsss_, teaa.f1 and 791k others

wags.international its official! f1 driver kimi raikkonen and ballerina y/n l/n were spotted on their date night in spain! will they deny or confirm their relationship? only time will tell....

click to view all comments

username why is the caption so mysterious 💀

username "confirm or deny" LMFAOOO WHAT IS IT A PASS TO ENTER A COUNTRY??

username yall hating on this gossip page harder than the others whyy 💀💀

username the caption 💀💀 and the fact that they used to hate on y/n when there were some rumors that she was dating max

username OMG OMG OMG MY PARENTS

username KIMIYN MY NO.1 SHIPPP AHHHHHH

username mY GATS

username PIERRE AND YOUR/BSF/NAME IN THE LIKES???? HELP ME

username the switch up is INSANEEE

username can you explain why they used to hate on y/n?

username they called her some words like $lut and wh0re and they also called her a fame and gold digger even though shes literally famous and already rich. they also posted some weird pics of her from when she was younger and basically they got a lot of hate for it.

username so the hate is deserved?

username VERY deserved

username i see a repeat of 2022 i am going to rage so hard that i become a lawyer and sue them

username the history with gossip page is INSANEEEE

kimiraikkonen

liked by ballerinayn, yourbsf, maxverstappen1 and 3.4M others

kimiraikkonen The girlfriend. Rakastan sinua yli kaiken, kulta ❤ (I love you more than anything, darling) tagged: ballerinayn

click to view all comments

username LMFAOOOO THE CAPTION IS SO KIMI CODED

username SOFT KIMI SOFT KIMI SOFT KIMI I AM SHAKING

ballerinayn love you too <33 mwah mwah

kimiraikkonen 🥰

maxverstappen only y/n can do that to the iceman

ballerinayn what can i say i am a woman of many abilities

maxverstappen1 ew thats disguisting i didnt need to know that

charlesleclerc she meant NORMAL abilities you dirty thinking slug

ballerinayn lestappen forever this comment has been deleted

maxverstappen1 Y/N?!?!??!?! I SAW THAT

ballerinayn mb?

yourbsf take care of my best friend yeah?

kimiraikkonen I'd rather die than not do so.

ballerinayn IM CRYING I LOVE YOU BOTH SO SO SO MUCH

kimiraikkonen Honey please don't cry.

ballerinayn KIMI OMGGG SHHSHSHSHSHHS

username y/n having a meltdown over kimi like girl me too

username this is the best love story in the history of love stories

username im calling it theyre romeo and juliet

yourbsf

liked by ballerinayn, kimiraikkonen, maxverstappen1 and 1.7k others

yourbsf my best friend and her love sick boyfriend tagged: ballerinayn, kimiraikkonen

click to view all comments

yourfriend1 HELP not y/n getting a professienal pic and kimi's being whatever

yourbsf y/n would pose for me for hours and kimi literally ignores me until y/n tells him to notice me. he also rarely smiles around me i had to capture the moment quickly

yourfriend1 explains the shaky picture

username we need more kimiyn content from your/bsf/name

username this is so goals what

ballerinayn wow i look so good and kimi looks so pretty omg

yourbsf ofc you do youre not mother y/n for no reason

maxverstappen1 can you send that pic of kimi?

kimiraikkonen Max.

maxverstappen1 nevermind

maxverstappen1 WHY DOESNT yourbsf GET A DEATH GLARE AND I DO??

ballerinayn sorry max i love her and kimi loves who i love xoxo

maxverstappen1 are you saying you dont love me?

ballerinayn oops sorry?

maxverstappen1 you better be sorry

yourbsf now now kids settle down

username chaos is literally yourbsf's comment section

username parasocial relationship

ballerinayn

liked by yourbsf, kimiraikkonen, maxverstappen1 and 581k others

ballerinayn words could never describe how much I love you. you light up my life in a way nothing else can. every moment with you feels like home, mon ange. forever wouldn’t be enough to express what you mean to me, pretty boy. ❤️ tagged: kimiraikkonen

comments on this post have been limited

maxverstappen1 love you guys even tho i hate third wheeling

ballerinayn thanks maxie <3

charlesleclerc you two are very cute

ballerinayn so are you and alex!!

yourbsf as much as i hated you being taken away from me by a guy, kimi was the right one. i approve of him <3

ballerinayn ilysm <333

ballerina1 if he can do ballet invite for a pas de deux 👀

ballerinayn oh trust me i already taught him everything

kimiraikkonen And nothing ever will ever desrcibe by love for you

ballerinayn i love you so much

kimiraikkonen I love you more. Even more than my drink

ballerinayn <33

kimiraikkonen You're the love of my life, never forget that.

[babyleostuff]

⸻ first date with performance unit

[ 🍵 ] how they would spoil their partner, what they would be like taking them out for the first time & what they would plan to make them feel special

jun

place: cat/dog cafe

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d have your coffee/tea order + favourite baked goods memorised (to the point where if they didn’t have what you’d usually order, jun would know what you’d take instead)

what they would be like taking you out: jun would be the epitome of sweet and precious, because mans wouldn't be able to stop smiling. seriously, the grin he'd have on his face would be low-key concerning because how can someone smile for that long, but at the same time, he'd make you feel so at peace and comfy with his gentle persona

“they are so us,” jun giggled and pointed at two cats trying to claw each other's eyes out. 

you shook your head and took a sip from your cup. if it was anyone else you’d start wondering if they even liked you, because comparing you to a rather aggressive cat was not on your top 10 compliments list, nor was it something you’d like to hear on a first date.  

but the boy in front of you was far from “anyone else”.

“you’re feisty,” jun pointed at the black cat, “just like her.” 

before you could think through what you were about to say next, you blurted out, “well, at least now we know who’ll wear the pants in our relationship.” 

it was safe to say that jun looked like an angry tomato for the rest of the date.

hoshi

place: laser tag

what they would do to make you feel special:  if you’d end up on opposite teams, soonyoung would do anything to let your team win (he’d be so proud in thinking he was being sooo sneaky about it) because seeing you happy is so much better than winning (you’re the only exception though, anyone else - the fight is on)

what they would be like taking you out:  this man is too unpredictable to know for sure how he’d act, but generally speaking it could go either two ways: 1 - soonyoung would be filled with so much energy, beaming with happiness and just so much affection for you that you’d have a hard time knowing what he’d even be on about (lovingly), 2 - he’d turn into a stressed little guy that just wouldn’t be able to believe that he’s on a date with you??? you gorgeous creature said yes to go out with him??? no one pinch him, because if it’s still a dream he doesn’t want to wake up. this version of him would be quite quiet, but in a soonyoung way quiet

“stop!” you laughed, quickly looking back to see if hoshi was still running after you. 

and running he was. more like charging at you at full speed, to be honest, with a fake gun in his hand and devilish grin on his face. 

“you’re not going to get away this time!” he yelled back, getting closer to you with each step. and there was no way you’d outrun him, na-ah. 

“it’s not how you play this game,” you said and bursted out in a fit of laughter, as soonyoung wrapped his strong arms around your frame, engulfing you in a sweaty hug. 

“i don’t care,” he giggled, pulling you closer. “the game is over for me anyway, now that i’ve got you”. 

mingaho

place: painting class

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d be the best listener. i know that is the bare minimum, but at the same time the bare minimum is in hell so… yeah. you’ll never meet a better listener than hao, who could sit on the uncomfortable wooden chair, covered in paint and listen to you for ages

what they would be like taking you out: such a gentleman, to the point where you start wondering if it’s not a dream. gentle, funny, kind, understanding, charming - you could go on for forever trying to describe minghao. all of that said, though, hao would honestly be so so nervous, because come one… so many things could go wrong… and he seriously liked you. like really really liked you.

“how the hell did you manage to get your paints to look like that?” you pointed at hao’s palette that was full of pretty colours, unlike yours. unfortunately. 

“hm?” he mumbled and looked over at your station. you could see the smile forming on his gorgeous face, but since he was the textbook definition of a green flag, whatever you want to call it, he quickly composed himself and pointed at the paints in front of him. “just mix this and this.” 

“uh, yeah,” you huffed, “i did the same and mine looks like shit. literally.” 

this time he couldn’t help but laugh. “let me help, yeah?”

dino

place: a board game cafe

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d try his best to play all of your favorite board games, because one thing about chan - he sucks at understanding game rules (seriously, all of his brain cells would be sweating to understand the game). so it’d truly be heartwarming how this precious boy would try so hard to understand what would be going in front of him. 

what they would be like taking you out: stressed. and. nervous. as. fuck. he just doesn’t want to mess it up, okay? chan knows he’s handsome and pretty and funny and charming, BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER!!! all of his rational thinking flies out of the window whenever he’s around you, and “what were you saying, i was too busy staring at your beautiful eyes”. shakes like a leaf the whole time. 

you could clearly see a question mark forming above chan’s head, as you tried explaining the rules for the third time. usually, you’d be quite annoyed at the person for still not getting what you were saying, but he looked so adorable, with his big puppy eyes and all, that you had to stop yourself from cooing out loud. 

“i’m sorry,” chan said, looking down. “i’m just not the best at understanding games.” 

you leaned over the table and put your hand over his. his head whipped up so quickly you wondered whether he didn’t pull a muscle doing that. 

“it’s okay, channie,” you smiled at him. “we can play something else, y’know?” 

he shook his head, and scooted his chair to sit closer to you. “no, no. let’s try again. i promise i’ll get it this time”.

[authorhjk1]

How does DC give head? 🤔

Jiu

"Oh god."

You groan when you feel Jiu's tongue swirl around your tip. Both her hands are placed on your thighs, your own hand on the back of her head. But you don't do anything. Jiu is the one taking good care of you.

"Does this feel good, baby?"

You can only nod, silently begging her to put her lips on your cock once more. It isn't even the way she gives you blowjobs. It's just the fact that she seems to enjoy herself so much while doing so, that turns you breathless. And it isn't that cock hungry lust either. It's pure affection.

Jiu only has eyes for you. Especially in the bedroom.

SuA

"C-Can you slow down?"

"Take it like a man."

SuA's response makes your head roll back as she sucks on your tip once more. She is stroking your cock with a torturous pace, making you flinch, whenever she tightens her grip a little. SuA always pushes you right towards the limit. She sucks you off very aggressively, before stopping at the last moment. Then, she strokes just as fast, threatening to hurt you badly, just so she can stop right before the edge once more.

"I-Please..."

"What's the magic word?"

"Mommy?"

"Good baby boy."

She likes it when you call her that. You always feel a little ashamed afterwards, after giving her so much control over you. But if that means she'll let you cum...

Siyeon

Siyeon likes to play with you. Similar to SuA. The only problem is, Siyeon doesn't understand the difference between privacy and public.

"C-Can't we wait, until we're home?"

Siyeon looks up at you as you melt further and further into the sofa, which is standing in Dreamcatcher's dressing room.

"Why?"

Her innocent face and the tone of her voice conflict with what she is doing to you right now.

"What if the others...."

You can't finish your sentence. Siyeon has decided to shut you up by letting her tongue dance around your length a couple of times.

"What if the others what?"

Once again, she makes you think that you're the problem and not her.

"Don't you like what I'm doing?"

"I-"

Before you can answer, Siyeon is all over your cock once again. And so, like after every Dreamcatcher performance, you're left with anxiety, fear and pleasure at the same time.

Handong

If there would be an Olympic competition for not running out of ideas for roleplaying scenarios, Handong would definitely win gold.

You can't count the amount of outfits she only bought for sex. Just like this one. A grey, see through blouse, her black bra clearly visible. Expensive looking glasses and the tightest and shortest skirt she could find.

You've seen Handong several times in this outfit before. Strict teacher Ms. Kim, rich heiress Lady Handong, submissive student Dongie. But today she is someone different once again.

"W-We shouldn't be doing this."

You groan when you feel her soft hands stroke your base, while her tongue plays with your tip. So far, not one of her characters was a miss.

"It's okay, sweetie."

Handong looks up at you, a mischievous smile on her face.

"I'm not your real mom anyways. And as your stepmom, it's my job to take care of you."

Yoohyeon

Yoohyeon is never the one who initiates something sexual. Even when she's in the mood, she just clings too you, until you finally suggest something. And public sex isn't really the things for her either.

But when the two of you are alone, that's where she shines. She always seems sweet and shy, so you never expected her to be this much into being tied up. Just like right now.

Yoohyeon's hands are tied behind her back, and a collar decorates her neck. The end of the leash, or rather chain, is loosely lying in your right hand.

"Am I being a good puppy for you, master?"

"Yes, you're a good girl."

You pat her head as Yoohyeon resumes her blowjob. She does take the pet play to an extreme sometimes, but you like it the way it is right now the most.

"You're doing great."

Yoohyeon gives you a gorgeous smile, but you force her back onto your cock by pulling at the chain a little.

Dami

Dami puts her finger on her lips, telling you to shut up. Her other hand is covering your mouth, making sure the two of you don't get caught.

She resumes her blowjob a moment later. You feel your eyes rolling back as she swallows your cock.

It's late already and SuA and Jiu are sleeping on the couch right next to you. The credits of the movie you just watched are still rolling. But like always, Dami just has to tease and play with your anxiety at every chance she gets.

"Be a good boy for me and stay quiet."

She whispers, before focusing on your cock once more. You groan into her hand as you feel Dami slowly forcing her mouth further down your shaft, until your cock finally fills her throat.

Gahyun

"What the hell, Gahyun?"

You push her head off of you. Your cock is covered in her spit, her mouth messy as well.

"I told you."

A mischievous grin plays around her lips.

"Voting for me to get killed during the mafia game will have consequences."

"I was just playing the game, Gahyun. I-"

Before you can react, Gahyun starts to fuck her throat with your cock once more.

"Fuck!"

You can't help but groan loudly. Which is still not as bad as the sounds she is making. All of Dreamcatcher must hear the youngest gags as she keeps impaling her throat on your cock. Spit bubbles form on the base of your cock, while Gahyun's hands are placed flat on your thighs to give her more leverage.

"Gahyun..."

It's a combination of groan and plea. You can almost see Jiu's disapproving look right in front of you as her precious maknae ruins herself all over your cock on purpose.

When Gahyun finally takes all of you, her lips kissing your base, she stays in place for a while. The silence doesn't last long though. After a couple of seconds, she starts to cough up spit, drenching your cock in even more saliva. By now the whole group must know what's going on.

[angelremnants]

American Wedding | S. Rogers

summary : Steve Rogers is throwing himself into mission after mission, trying to outrun the weight of his past—his unresolved feelings for Sharon and the lingering memories of Peggy. But when his commanding officers force him to take a break, Steve ends up on a staycation in Barbados. What begins as a forced respite soon becomes a much-needed escape as he unexpectedly finds healing, peace, and even a connection in the warmth of the Caribbean sun. Steve learns to let go of the past and finally breathe again, even if it’s just for a short while. Inspired by American Wedding (unreleased) by Frank Ocean.

pairing : Steve Rogers x f!reader

warnings : Fluff to angst, imposed traits on the reader such as an origin, emotional healing, mention of past relationships, themes of healing and self-discovery, themes of arranged marriages and family pressure, mentions of emotional and familial abuse, a bit of hurt/comfort, bittersweet ending, mentions of past trauma, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 12.1k

author's notes : I don't know what's wrong with me and writing long fics with major angst. I think I might have a problem.

If you're still as hooked in the MCU fandom as I am, then it shouldn't be a surprise for you that I stumbled upon the infamous Steve edit on American Wedding. Steve was my first little crush when I started getting into the MCU; he might not be my number one anymore, but I couldn't help but be mesmerized by the work and how well it could somehow fit the vibe of our golden boy.

Side note, I chose Barbados just because I love Rihanna (plus, the country is as gorgeous as she is). I tried to respect the culture as much as I could, but please do let me know if something is amiss. Anyways, here's my take on what this song could mean if associated with America's Ass greatest soldier.

(ao3 version)

The mission was over.

Steve Rogers had traded his usual Captain America tight suit for average civilian clothes and now stood just outside a bustling café in Bridgetown, the late afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the vibrant streets of Barbados. He should’ve been relieved. The intel was secured, the rogue operation dismantled, and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were already working to extract the rest of the loose ends. But instead, Steve felt a familiar weight settle on his shoulders, one he couldn’t quite shake.

The air was heavy with the scent of fried fish and spices, and the sound of calypso music drifted from a nearby street performer. Locals walked by, some glancing curiously at the tall, broad-shouldered man who looked distinctly out of place. Steve’s fingers hovered over his phone, debating whether to call in and request another assignment.

Then, his phone buzzed in his hand, and the name Tony Stark lit up the screen.

Steve answered with a sigh, already bracing himself. “Stark.”

“Capsicle! How’s my favorite star-spangled soldier doing?” Tony’s voice was chipper, the sound of clinking glasses and faint jazz music in the background.

“I’m fine,” Steve replied, scanning the street as though someone might overhear. “Why are you calling?”

“Well, it’s not to remind you to update your playlist based on what I’m hearing in the background—though, seriously, we need to talk about that at some point.” Tony didn’t wait for a response. “No, I’m calling to let you know that for the first time in, oh, forever, we’re at a lull. No alien invasions. No rogue A.I.s. No infinity stones threatening to wipe out half the universe. You know what that means?”

Steve frowned. “That it’s time to prepare for the next crisis?”

Tony let out a dramatic groan. “And people say I’m the workaholic. No, Cap. It means you get a break.”

Steve rolled his eyes, leaning against the café’s wooden railing. “I don’t need a break, Tony. There’s always something that needs to be done—”

“Yeah, no. I’m gonna stop you right there.” Tony’s voice turned pointed, though there was still a hint of his trademark sarcasm. “I talked to Fury, and even he thinks you’ve been overdoing it. And considering the guy’s idea of a vacation involves a bunker and a bottle of bourbon, that’s saying something.”

“I’m fine,” Steve insisted, his tone tightening.

“Fine? Really? I mean, do you even know what day it is? Look, pretty much everyone’s off the grid—Sam, Natasha, even Clint’s in retirement mode. And I’m finally getting around to that honeymoon thing with Pepper because, you know, saving the world isn’t as good for a marriage as you’d think. So you? You need to chill.”

“Tony, I’m fine,” Steve had insisted, though even he didn’t sound convincing.

“Yeah, sure. That’s why you’ve been taking back-to-back missions for the past three months. What’s next? Fighting a volcano?”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, then realized he didn’t.

Tony took his silence as confirmation. “Listen, you’re not a machine, Cap. Even super-soldiers need to decompress. Which is why I, in all my infinite wisdom, am forcing you to take some time off.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tony—”

“Ah-ah! No arguments. Fury’s covering part of the bill, and I’m picking up the rest because I’m such a generous friend. You pick the place—anywhere in the world—and I’ll make it happen. You’re welcome.”

Steve glanced around, his eyes lingering on the vibrant life of the island. The azure waters sparkled in the distance, and the rhythmic sway of the palm trees seemed to beckon him. He hadn’t allowed himself a moment to breathe in months, maybe years.

“I don’t know,” Steve said slowly.

Tony groaned again, louder this time. “Come on, Cap. It’s not like I’m asking you to take a yoga class in Malibu. Though, honestly, you’d kill it in downward dog. No, I’m telling you to pick a nice spot, kick back, and—God forbid—relax for once in your life.”

“Tony—”

“Let me paint you a picture,” Tony interrupted, his tone turning theatrical. “A beachfront villa. Sunsets so pretty they’ll make you cry. Maybe a fruity drink with one of those little umbrellas—wait, scratch that, you’re more of a ‘beer and brooding’ guy. The point is, take the damn vacation, Steve. Doctor’s orders.”

Steve sighed, looking out the window of the outpost at the vibrant streets of Bridgetown. “I’ll stay here,” he said finally. “Barbados seems… peaceful.”

“Atta boy!” Tony cheered. “I’ll wire the funds. And hey, if you don’t send me at least one picture of you in a Hawaiian shirt, I’m gonna be very disappointed.”

Steve couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. I have a reputation to maintain.”

The line went dead, leaving Steve alone with the sounds of the island.

⠀⠀

The first few days in Barbados passed in a blur of quiet solitude. Steve spent most of his time walking along the beach or sitting on the villa’s small porch, nursing a cold drink while the sun dipped below the horizon. For someone used to the constant hum of battlefields, strategy meetings, and high-stakes missions, the stillness was almost unnerving.

But it wasn’t just the quiet that unsettled him—it was the thoughts he’d been pushing aside for months. Thoughts of Sharon.

He’d tried not to dwell on their break-up, but here, surrounded by the warmth and beauty of the island, the memories crept in uninvited. Their relationship had ended just weeks ago, though the cracks had been there for far longer. She had been kind, understanding, and steadfast—everything Steve thought he should want. But every time he looked at her, a small, nagging voice whispered the truth he didn’t want to face.

She was Peggy’s niece.

No matter how much he tried to compartmentalize it, the connection was impossible to ignore. Every time Sharon smiled, there was a flicker of something familiar—her determination, her poise, even the way she carried herself. It wasn’t fair to either of them, but Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been chasing a shadow of the past. Sharon deserved more than that, and so did he.

When they’d finally called it quits, Sharon had been the one to speak the words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“You’re still carrying her with you, Steve,” she’d said, her voice calm but heavy with resignation. “And maybe you always will. But I can’t be her for you. I don’t want to be.”

The guilt had followed him ever since. Sharon had been right. For all the years that had passed, Peggy still lingered in the corners of his mind—her voice, her laugh, the way she’d believed in him when no one else did. He hadn’t just been grieving Sharon’s absence; he was grieving Peggy all over again.

By the third day, Steve found himself wandering into a bustling part of Bridgetown, hoping the sights and sounds of the island might distract him. The streets were alive with energy—locals bartering at colorful market stalls, tourists snapping photos of historic buildings, and the rhythmic beat of soca music weaving through it all.

“Yuh lookin’ lost, boss,” a young man called out from behind a coconut cart. He was grinning, a machete in hand as he expertly cracked open a coconut.

Steve glanced back at him. “Just exploring.” 

“Ah, well, yuh gotta try dis,” the man said, handing him a freshly cut coconut. “Yuh look like yuh could use a lil’ taste of Bajan life. Fresh coconut water! Or yuh scared of a lil’ machete work?”

Steve smirked politely but didn’t respond, unsure if he was being teased or seriously invited. Before he could decide, you appeared, carrying a basket of fruits and shaking your head with a laugh.

“Jamal, stop tormenting de tourists!” you scolded lightheartedly. “Poor man just tryna enjoy ‘e day without you harassing him.”

Jamal shrugged with a grin, chopping open another coconut. “Ah, just showin’ him how we do it here, yuh know? He look like he need it.”

You turned to Steve, flashing a warm smile. “Ignore him, he does this to everyone. But,” you added, your tone playful, “he’s not wrong. Coconut water will fix whatever ails you. You should try one.”

Steve chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing. “If you say so,” he said, stepping closer.

You nodded approvingly as Jamal handed him the coconut. “See? That wasn’t so hard,” you teased.

Taking a sip, Steve found the cool water surprisingly refreshing. “This is good,” he admitted, glancing at you.

“Good?” you repeated with mock offense. “It’s de best on de island. You’ve got a lot to learn.”

Steve smiled, feeling more at ease than he had in days. “Guess I’ll need a guide, then,” he said, the words slipping out before he could overthink them.

You tilted your head, amusement sparkling in your eyes. “Lucky for you, I know everyone ‘round here. Stick with me, Captain America, and I’ll show you the real Barbados.”

He blinked, surprised you knew who he was.

“Relax,” you said with a wink. “We don’t make a big deal of celebrities' ‘round here. Besides, the way I see it, everybody needs a break—even heroes.”

He guessed he really did well in choosing his destination. 

Steve walked beside you through the busy streets, his coconut still in hand. The initial awkwardness of being recognized faded quickly as you carried the conversation effortlessly, your teasing making him smile more than he had in weeks.

“So, Captain America,” you said, throwing a glance over your shoulder with a grin. “What’s a hero like you doin’ walking ‘round alone in Barbados? Not enough trouble to save us from?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Actually, I’m here because I was told to take a break. Guess I've been working a little too hard lately.”

“Working too hard? You? Never would’ve guessed,” you teased, your tone playful.

Steve shook his head, grinning. “What about you? You seem to know everyone here.”

“I do. Born and raised. And the people here? They’re my family—even Jamal, with his coconut antics,” you said with a laugh. “You stick wit’ me, and I’ll teach you all de secrets of the island.”

“Secrets, huh?” Steve said, his tone tinged with curiosity. “What kind of secrets?”

You stopped suddenly and gestured toward a small, colorful shack by the road. “For starters, the best fish cutters on the island are right here. Come, you can’t visit Barbados and not try one.”

Steve followed you to the shack, where an older man greeted you like an old friend. As you chatted easily with him, ordering food, Steve found himself watching you with a kind of quiet admiration. You were easygoing, quick to laugh, and had a warmth about you that was magnetic.

When the fish cutters arrived, you handed one to Steve. “Here. And don’t even think of saying it’s just ‘good.’ Dis is heaven in bread.”

He took a bite, his eyes widening. “Wow. Okay, you’re right—this is incredible.”

You smirked. “Told you. The locals always know best.”

As the two of you walked along the beach, the conversation grew more personal. You asked about his life back home, and he answered honestly, even about the heartbreak he was still trying to shake.

“So, this Sharon,” you said carefully, “she’s Peggy’s niece?”

Steve nodded, looking sheepish. “Yeah. It’s… complicated.”

“You think?” you teased gently, bumping your shoulder against his. “Sounds messy. But you know what? Sometimes you just need to let go of what’s complicated and hold on to what’s simple.”

“And what’s simple?” Steve asked, curious.

You stopped walking and turned to face him, your expression soft but playful. “This,” you said, gesturing to the ocean. “Good food, good company, and a little bit of adventure.” He smiled, the sincerity in your voice hitting him in a way he didn’t expect. “I think I’m starting to see your point.”

⠀⠀

Over the next few days, you made good on your promise to show Steve the best of Barbados. True to your word, you showed Steve places that weren’t in any guidebook, sharing bits of history and culture along the way.

“This,” you said one morning, gesturing to a vibrant, bustling market, “is where you get the freshest fruit on the island. And where you learn to bargain.”

Steve watched in awe as you haggled with a vendor, the two of you laughing and bantering in a mix of Bajan dialect and English. When you returned with a bag of mangos and papayas, he raised a brow.

“You just got all that for half the price,” he said.

“Yup,” you said with a grin, popping a slice of mango into your mouth. “You're lucky you've got me, Captain. Otherwise, they’d have charged you double for being a tourist.”

“Good thing I’ve got you,” he said, his tone warm.

Later, you took him to a rum distillery, where you explained the process of making Barbados’ world-famous rum, teasing him as he tried a sample and coughed slightly at the burn.

“That strong for you, Cap?”

“Not strong enough to knock me out,” he replied, his voice laced with humor.

You then took him to the lively Oistins Fish Fry, where he tried grilled marlin and danced awkwardly but earnestly to soca music. You dragged him to Harrison’s Cave, laughing as he marveled at the limestone formations.

“You look like a kid seeing snow for de first time,” you teased.

“I’ve been frozen in snow for seventy years,” he replied, deadpan.

You burst out laughing, and even he cracked a smile at his own joke.

One afternoon, you led him on a hike up to Cherry Tree Hill, where the view of the rolling hills and turquoise ocean was breathtaking. As you stood beside him, the wind tugging at your dress, you glanced at him with a smile.

“You're not bad company, you know,” you said.

“Neither are you,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature half-smile.

“You keep looking at me like that, and I might think you’re sweet on me, Captain.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed faintly, but he held your gaze. “And what if I am?”

Your eyebrows shot up, surprised but delighted. “Well, then,” you said, stepping closer, “I hope you know you’re in for one hell of a ride.”

As the two of you strolled along a quieter path near the beach, the sunlight danced through the palm trees, and Steve couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm he hadn’t experienced in months. He looked over at you, smiling at how animatedly you were explaining the significance of the bright kites dotting the sky—something about “kite season” and friendly neighborhood competitions.

“You know,” Steve said after a moment, “your accent isn’t quite like everyone else’s around here. It’s still got that lilt, but… it’s different.”

You glanced at him, a little surprised. “You noticed that, huh?”

He nodded. “I guess I’ve got an ear for detail. What’s the story there?”

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Well, I went abroad for a few years—took my undergrad in the U.S. and just came back home recently.”

“Really?” Steve asked, intrigued. “What’d you study?”

As you walked beside Steve, your voice became more animated as you shared the kind of work you had done during your studies. “Well, when I was in the States for my undergrad, I did my thesis on cultural practices, specifically exploring the dynamics between traditional marriage structures and modern society.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? That sounds… complex. What kind of structures?”

“Yuh know, I looked into things like arranged marriages and how they vary across different cultures,” you explained, eyes sparkling with passion. “One part of my research focused on Islamic marriage traditions, particularly around the roles of brides and how modern perspectives are influencing those practices. It wasn’t about judging or anything, just trying to understand how people make it work, despite some of the harsh stereotypes.”

“Wow,” Steve said thoughtfully, clearly impressed. “Sounds like you dove deep into it. You didn’t go for the easy topics, huh?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, not really. I wanted to tackle something meaningful. And, for me, it was important to explore how even with things like hijabs or polygamy, those traditions have layers, especially when it comes to women’s agency. It’s all about perspective.”

Steve nodded, clearly fascinated by your work. “It’s amazing how much you can learn when you dig into a topic. I guess that’s why you came back here, huh? To work on making a difference in your community.”

You smiled softly, thinking back on your time abroad. “Yeah. I learned a lot, but I always knew I’d come home. There’s so much to do here, and I want to make sure we’re not losing our identity as we modernize. Barbados is home, and I want to help make sure it stays that way.”

You laughed at the thought, shrugging. “Guess it’s de island girl in me. This place is part of who I am. But,” you added with a sheepish grin, “spendin’ so much time abroad, I guess I picked up a bit of de American accent. It slips in sometimes when I talk.”

“I think it’s kind of charming,” Steve said, surprising even himself with the comment.

You raised a brow at him, a slow smile spreading across your lips. “Careful, Captain, or I might think you’re tryin’ to sweet-talk me.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish but amused. “Maybe I am.”

Your laugh rang out, light and melodic. “Well, you’re not too bad at it.”

At one point, while they were sitting on a beachside bench, a gentle breeze tugging at their clothes, Steve caught her eye, and she smiled. That smile. He swore it was the brightest thing in the world, even more stunning than the sun hanging low in the sky behind her.

The conversation continued, with Steve steering it back toward you. He asked about your time abroad, what it was like living away from home, and what made you choose environmental science in the first place.

“And what about you?” you countered, tilting your head as you studied him. “You’ve been saving the world for what—over a century now?”

He chuckled. “Not quite that long, but close.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re slowin’ down anytime soon,” you said, your voice softer now. “But, Steve… don’t you ever just want to stop for a bit? Live a little for yourself?”

Your question caught him off guard. For a moment, he was quiet, the only sounds around you were the gentle crash of waves and the rustle of the wind in the trees.

“I guess I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted.

As you sat on the beach watching the sun dip below the horizon, you turned to Steve with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“So,” you began, “how do you feel about weddings?”

He looked at you warily. “Weddings?”

“Yeah. My… um, distant relative—you probably need a map to figure out how we’re related—is getting married this weekend. It’s a small thing,” you said, “But it’s a family event. You know how it is—everyone wants to show up and make it ‘extra’ for the aunties.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m guessing it’s not going to be your average wedding then?”

“Oh, no,” you grinned, “Think small chapel, a few too many drinks, maybe a bit of dancing, and a lot of awkward family members trying to act like they haven’t been feuding for the past ten years. But, you know, in the best way possible.”

Steve found himself laughing along with you, the ease between you two growing stronger by the minute.

“Actually,” you said with a mischievous grin, “It’s going to be kind of hilarious. I was thinking…” You paused, glancing over at him. “You wanna come with me? As my… plus one?”

Steve blinked in surprise, but there was something about the way you said it, as if you didn’t mind the idea of being together at such a personal family event. “I mean, are you sure? I’m probably not what your family had in mind when they thought ‘plus one,’” he joked, a smile tugging at his lips.

You shrugged, the motion casual, but your gaze was intense. “Honestly, I don’t think anyone really knows what they’re getting when they invite me. And trust me, you’ll be far more interesting than the rest of my relatives.” You glanced at him sideways with a grin. “Besides, maybe they’ll like you more than me.”

“Are you trying to get me to go to your wedding as an act of charity?” he teased.

You laughed. “No, I’m offering you a chance to be part of something completely ridiculous, and trust me, you’ll be talking about it for years.”

“Well, in that case,” Steve said, pretending to think it over, “I guess I’ll be there. But you’ve got to warn me beforehand if there’s any kind of dancing involved. I’m not exactly a pro.”

Your grin widened. “Deal.”

⠀⠀

You had parted your ways when it was well into the night, and soon enough, Steve found himself back in his quaint hotel room, listening to the peaceful waves of the ocean. He laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind drifting back to the hours he’d spent with you earlier.

He couldn’t help but replay the way you looked again and again in his mind. The first thing that struck him was how effortlessly beautiful you were. Your skin had looked golden when it caught the sunlight, in a way that made everything around you seem brighter, like you were glowing from within. Your hair had framed your face in soft waves, a contrast to your sun-kissed skin that made you seem like you belonged to the island itself. It hadn’t just been the way you looked, though; it had been the way you carried yourself. You had moved with such ease, like you were perfectly in tune with the world around you, as though every step was measured but never forced.

Your eyes—those eyes—were a shade that had seemed almost impossible, warm and deep, with a spark that made it clear you were fully present, fully alive in every conversation. When you spoke, it had been with an accent that was distinctly Barbadian, but there was a softness to it, a hint of something else—like you’d been somewhere far from home and had returned with more layers than when you left. Your smile had been what had undone him, though. It hadn’t just been the way it lit up your face, but the way it had made him feel like he was the only one in the world you were focusing on, even if it had been just for a moment.

And it hadn’t just been your looks—Steve knew he hadn’t felt this way about someone in years, the way his heart had seemed to skip when you caught his gaze, the way the mere thought of you had made him feel like a teenager again, nervous and unsure but eager all the same. The more he thought about you, the more the feeling had intensified, like a slow burn in his chest. He had tried to push it down, telling himself it had just been the heat, just the newness of it all, but deep down, he had known it wasn’t that simple. He had found something in you, something that had made the weight of everything else just… fade away.

The way you had laughed, your smile so effortless, like you were a living embodiment of the sun that bathed the island in warmth. There had been something about you that had made his chest tighten—something magnetic, yet disarmingly genuine. He had expected a brief distraction on this trip, maybe a drink with a stranger. Instead, you had effortlessly captivated him. Your energy had been infectious, and even in the quiet moments, you had a way of drawing him in. The little quirks of your accent, the way you’d pause mid-sentence to correct yourself, as if speaking a second language you hadn’t used in too long—there had been a vulnerability in it that had made you all the more endearing.

And then there had been the tattoo. That damn tattoo. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He had barely even paid attention to it at first, but after spending hours with you, it had stood out more, like a proud branding. A temporary tattoo you had convinced him to get while you were strolling around. It had been a simple design, a swirling wave pattern across his left hand, something that had matched the feeling of freedom he’d had with you that day. He had looked down at his hand now, the ink still vivid, but with a hint of purple-ish blue where it was starting to fade. You had laughed when he’d rolled up his sleeve to show you, clearly impressed by how well it had suited him. He had never thought he’d have fun getting a tattoo, temporary or not, but the experience had been entirely different with you. Everything had felt light, effortless, fun.

As his mind had wandered further, Steve had found himself imagining something he hadn’t thought about in a long time: the future. The thought of you in a wedding gown, walking down the aisle toward him, had made his heart race. He couldn’t help but picture it, absurdly vivid—you, laughing under the lights, your eyes sparkling as you smiled at him in that way only you could. He’d be there, in a tux, grinning like a fool, probably fumbling over his vows. He could almost hear the judge’s voice, telling them to kiss, and there you’d be—his wife, laughing with him as you made it official in a courthouse with nothing but your hearts and a rush of love propelling you forward. The thought had made him shake his head in surprise, crimson adorning his cheeks. It had been ridiculous, yet it had felt so very real. He had been falling for you in ways he never thought possible.

He had tried to focus on other things—his next move, the mission he had just completed—but as much as he had tried, the tattoo had kept pulling his attention back to you. It hadn’t just been the design; it had been the way it had been something shared between you. A small, playful gesture, but one that had made the whole day feel… connected. He had smiled to himself, the thought of you making his heart race again. He had shifted uncomfortably under the covers, trying to shake off the sudden rush of warmth that had pooled in his stomach.

But as much as he had tried to focus on other things, your laugh had kept echoing in his mind, and the image of you running after his vehicle earlier that day had kept replaying, like something out of a dream he didn’t want to wake from. It had been a feeling he hadn’t realized he’d missed—the easy excitement of getting to know someone new. He had rolled over onto his side, trying to get some rest, but his mind wouldn’t quiet. No, he had thought to himself, he wasn’t about to start feeling this way about you. Not now, not when he had so much left unsaid, so many wounds still open. But as sleep had slowly begun to pull him under, that feeling—warm and electric—had lingered in the back of his mind, making it hard to ignore the undeniable pull he had felt toward you.

⠀⠀

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the streets as Steve revved the engine of the bright red 5.0 Mustang he’d rented for his trip. He’d opted for the car, not just for the joy of driving it, but because he thought it might impress you. Plus, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to show off a little, especially when he’d be picking you up from university. He’d learned from your conversations how much effort you’d put into your education and your dedication to your work, and he was eager to see where you spent your days.

He parked the Mustang in front of the university building, its polished surface gleaming under the late afternoon sun. His eyes scanned the steps, waiting for you to appear. He’d offered to take you to the wedding, knowing how much it meant to you. He’d also taken the time to ensure he had the right attire, knowing it would be expected of him. He wanted to be the gentleman. But it wasn’t just about impressing your family; it was about showing you that he respected you, that he was willing to step into your world, no matter how different it might be from his.

Soon, you appeared on the steps, a bundle of papers clutched in your hand—ones you needed to submit for your master’s application—as you hurried down toward him. You wore a light sundress that floated around your figure as you walked toward him, and Steve couldn’t help but notice the way the late afternoon sun made you glow. As you approached the car, you glanced at him with a playful grin, your eyes lighting up when you saw the Mustang.

“You sure know how to make an entrance, huh?” you teased, your voice laced with amusement as you slid into the passenger seat.

Steve chuckled, feeling a slight rush of pride. “Figured I’d try to keep up with you,” he said, glancing at you as he started the engine. “Ready for this?”

You nodded, still smiling. “I’ve never been more ready. Just a heads-up, though—my parents might give you the look. You know, the ‘who is this American?’ look.” You winked, but there was an apprehension in your gaze that made Steve feel like maybe you weren’t entirely at ease either.

“Yeah, I’m used to ‘the look.’” He grinned, determined to be charming despite the tension in the air. After all, he wanted to make you feel at ease.

As the two of you drove toward the wedding venue, Steve kept the conversation light, asking about your studies, your thoughts on the wedding, and what your family was like. You talked about your work with passion, but he couldn’t help but notice the slight apprehension in your tone when you mentioned your parents.

When you arrived, Steve was introduced to your family, his hand shaking politely as he greeted your parents with a well-practiced smile. They weren’t unfriendly, but there was a certain coldness to their demeanor, like they were sizing him up, unsure of what to make of him. Steve, ever the gentleman, took it in stride, asking questions and trying his best to blend in. But as the evening wore on, it became clear that you were not quite as comfortable as you let on.

You were whisked away by your family to change into something more formal, leaving Steve to fend for himself in a crowd of unfamiliar faces. He quietly took a seat, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

As the evening wore on, one of your relatives gently but firmly ushered Steve away from the crowd, leading him to a room at the back of the venue where an array of Barjan formal attire awaited him. The family had been insistent on ensuring he was properly dressed for the occasion, a tradition that Steve hadn’t anticipated.

“I guess I’ll have to dress the part,” Steve muttered to himself, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as the servant handed him a traditional Barjan tuxedo. It wasn’t quite what he’d expected, but he knew better than to argue—you had asked for him to be taken care of, and he wanted to honor that.

The outfit was stunning: a sharply tailored jacket with intricate gold embroidery at the collar and cuffs, paired with sleek trousers that tapered perfectly at the ankle. The fabric was a rich, deep shade of midnight blue that shimmered under the light, and the shirt underneath was a crisp white with a soft sheen. He looked at himself in the mirror, admiring the polished shoes and the way the suit fit him perfectly, as though he’d been born to wear it.

Once dressed, Steve rejoined the others in the main hall, where he was greeted by your family, all clad in their formal Barjan attire. The women wore elegant, flowing gowns with intricate beadwork and colorful patterns that reflected the island’s natural beauty. The men wore similarly rich outfits, with patterned vests and gold-accented details that gave them an air of authority and elegance. Steve felt like he’d been transported to another world, one full of tradition, culture, and beauty.

Then, finally, you entered, and Steve’s breath caught in his throat. You looked radiant. Your dress was everything he’d imagined and more: a delicate, embroidered gown with a soft blush hue, its flowing fabric catching the light with every step. The intricate patterns on your dress mirrored the ones in your family’s attire, as though you were all part of one elaborate, elegant tapestry. Your hair was let loose in its natural soft waves, and the sparkle in your eyes made you seem even more ethereal.

You smiled when you saw him, and Steve felt his chest tighten with something he couldn’t quite put into words. “You look… incredible,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your grin widened at the compliment, your eyes twinkling. “Thank you,” you replied, your tone light but warm. 

They shared a quiet moment, their connection palpable. The formal attire, the elegance of the night—it all felt surreal, yet right at the same time.

You shared a quiet moment, the connection between you palpable. The formal attire, the elegance of the night—it all felt surreal, yet right at the same time.

Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off you as the wedding celebration rolled on. You were radiant, your smile lighting up the room, but it wasn’t just your looks that had him captivated. It was the way you carried yourself, effortlessly blending into the crowd while still standing out. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—not amid all the military stuff he had been through, not after everything he’d seen. But with you, it was different.

As you stood by the drinks table, Steve couldn’t resist a smile. “You clean up pretty well,” he said, the words coming out more smoothly than he intended, but it was true. You looked stunning in that dress, your laughter echoing in his chest like a warm melody.

You looked over at him with teasing eyes. “For a guy who usually wears a uniform, you look pretty good in that suit yourself.”

“Well, I’m trying to keep up with you,” he replied, giving you a half-smirk. “You know, trying to make a good impression.”

You leaned closer, your voice dropping just slightly, playful but with that edge of seriousness Steve had come to recognize. “You don’t need to try so hard,” you said, your words almost sounding like a challenge. “You’ve already impressed me.”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t know what it was about you that got under his skin like this, but the way you made him feel was disorienting, like the ground wasn’t quite steady beneath him. It had been a long time since he’d felt this much—anything, really.

“So,” he said, trying to keep his composure, “what’s next? You’ve already got my attention, and I’m starting to think that’s the only thing I’m focused on tonight.”

Your lips curved into a smile, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, I guess maybe you should focus on me a little more,” you hinted, but there was something deeper in your voice, a subtle invitation that made Steve want to step closer. “After all, there’s still plenty of weddings left, Captain.”

Steve blinked at the title, his face softening into a grin. “I’m not used to being called that at a party,” he joked, though his mind was already on the edge, keeping himself from crossing the line. He wasn’t used to this kind of playful banter. In the military, things were direct, and to the point. But with you, it was different. You made him feel… lighter. He’d never thought he’d feel this way, especially not in the middle of something so unfamiliar, like a wedding halfway around the world.

He leaned in slightly, just enough to get your attention. “But I’ll insist, you’ve got me distracted, more than I thought possible.”

You laughed softly, as though you were enjoying the chase, but you stayed close enough that their words felt like a secret between the two of them. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” you replied, your voice carrying the slightest hint of playfulness. “Though, maybe I should keep you on your toes a little longer. Can’t make it too easy for you, Captain.”

Before Steve could respond, your parents arrived, their presence immediately cooling the warm atmosphere between them. The formalities kicked back in, and Steve felt a slight shift in your demeanor. You seemed to retreat into yourself a bit, your expression faltering. Steve’s protective instincts flared, but he knew better than to interrupt family matters.

You tried to give him a reassuring smile as you spoke, but it wasn’t enough. Your parents were speaking to you in hushed tones, their words sharp, but Steve managed to catch bits and pieces with his super-soldier hearing. “You’ll marry him soon. It’s already arranged,” your mother’s voice was firm, but there was an undeniable sense of finality in it.

Your expression darkened as you listened, your hands gripping the fabric of your dress as if trying to hold yourself together. Steve’s heart ached for you. He didn’t know what was entirely being said, but he could see the pain in you eyes. He wasn’t about to let this go unnoticed, not when it was clear you needed support.

Without a second thought, he moved toward you, gently pushing through the crowd to reach your side. As soon as you saw him, you turned away from your parents, your face clearly harboring a mix of frustration and sadness.

“[Y/N]?” Steve called out softly, his voice full of concern as he reached out to you.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you hurried toward the back of the venue, away from the eyes of your family, with Steve following close behind.

“Hey, hey,” he said, catching up with you and gently taking your arm. “What’s going on?”

You looked at him, your eyes wide with emotion. “They… they’ve already arranged my marriage, Steve,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “To someone I don’t even know.”

⠀⠀

The drive back to the beach was quiet. The low rumble of the engine was the only sound between you as Steve kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. The Mustang purred beneath you, but it felt hollow in the silence that stretched out like the ocean you were heading toward. Steve was trying to give you space, but the tension between you was palpable. He knew you were struggling, knew that what had happened at the wedding had cracked something wide open. The weight of it all hung heavily in the air, thick and suffocating.

The soft hum of the ocean was the only sound that accompanied you as you walked along the shore. The sand beneath your feet was cool from the night air, and the sky was dotted with stars, but the world felt heavy around you. You stayed quiet, your steps slow, your mind racing with the events that had just unfolded. Steve kept a careful distance, giving you space, but his mind was working overtime—trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

You reached the spot where you had stood together the day before, where the horizon stretched out before you, untouched and endless. The contrast between that peaceful moment and this was sharp. He could still see the laughter in your eyes, the carefree joy you had shared—but now, your face was clouded with doubt and fear.

Steve paused for a moment, looking at you as you stared out into the dark expanse of the ocean. He wanted to fix this, to do something, anything, to take away the pain that had suddenly overwhelmed you, but he knew this was something only you could express. He was here to listen, to be present, and that was what mattered right now.

You broke the silence, your voice barely audible over the crashing waves. “I thought I had more time, Steve. I thought I had figured things out. I worked so hard for this freedom.” Your voice cracked as you looked at him, tears welling in your eyes. “I thought that if I could prove myself, if I could show them that I could make something of my life… they’d let me go. But now, they’ve taken everything. They hid my passport. They took my money. And now, I have nothing.”

The raw vulnerability in your voice hit him harder than he expected. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out instinctively, resting on your shoulder. You flinched at the touch but didn’t pull away. You needed comfort—he could feel it, even if you weren’t sure you wanted to accept it.

“[Y/N]…” he whispered, his voice full of empathy. He didn’t know what to say, not really. What could he say to make this better? But you kept going, your words tumbling out like a dam had broken.

“I came back thinking everything would be different,” you continued, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “I thought if I came back successful, I could change their minds. But they’ve already planned everything. They’ve arranged my marriage to someone I’ve never met… and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Steve’s heart sank as he heard the desperation in your voice. He wanted to scream, wanted to fight, to tell you that you didn’t deserve this, that you didn’t have to go through this alone. But instead, he just wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, offering you the one thing he could give—comfort.

“You’re not alone, sweetheart,” he said quietly, his voice soft but firm. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You pressed your face against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like… to be trapped like this, with no way out. I can’t even run anymore.”

Steve tightened his hold on you, feeling the weight of your pain in his bones. He had faced his fair share of burdens, of being trapped by duty, but this—this was different. You weren’t bound by a war or a mission. You were bound by a life you hadn’t chosen, a future your parents had decided for you.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said again, his voice hoarse. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t know how, but I’m not going to let them take you from your life.”

You pulled back slightly, your face streaked with tears, your breath ragged. Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he truly meant it. That he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear.

“I don’t even know how to fight this anymore,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “They have everything… They control everything. And I just wanted to live my life. I just wanted a chance to choose.”

Steve cupped your face gently in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “And you will. We’ll find a way. You’re not stuck. I promise you that.”

The tension between you was thick, raw, and emotional. It wasn’t just about the fight against your parents. It was about everything that had been left unsaid, everything that had been building between you. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, a connection that had been forged over the past couple of days but hadn’t fully been explored until now.

“I can’t let you go through this alone,” Steve said, his voice low and steady. “Not now. Not ever.”

You searched his eyes, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. There was a tension in the air—an unspoken connection that hung between you like a spark, waiting for someone to ignite it. Steve wasn’t sure who moved first, but before he could think twice, you closed the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. The world seemed to fall away in that instant, leaving just the two of you in the quiet of the night, where nothing else mattered.

When you finally pulled apart, your breaths shallow, you looked at him, your eyes searching his face. “I never wanted to drag you into this, Steve,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m scared.”

Steve cupped your face gently, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “You’re not dragging me into anything, [Y/N]. I want to be here. With you.” His voice was steady, but the emotion behind it was raw and real. “Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

You nodded, your lips trembling as you tried to hold back more tears. “But it’s too much. This wedding, this whole thing… it was supposed to be my escape, and now it feels like my worst nightmare.”

Steve leaned his forehead against yours, the cool air of the night brushing against you. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady the turmoil inside of him. “Look, maybe this doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But you’ve got me, sweetheart. You don’t have to pretend like it doesn’t matter to me. It means something. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes softened at his words, and despite the storm of emotions, you found comfort in his touch, in the sincerity in his eyes. The tension between you was palpable, but in that moment, it wasn’t just about what you had, or the mess of your circumstances. It was about a promise—unspoken but understood—that you would face this together, no matter what it took.

“I can’t promise things will be easy,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But… maybe if you stay, if we try, we could figure this out. Together.”

Steve kissed your forehead softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

And as you stood there, under the stars, in a moment that felt timeless, Steve knew one thing for sure—whatever came next, he wasn’t going to let you face it without him.

⠀⠀

The air in Steve’s hotel room hit you differently now—quieter, heavier. The events of the day loomed between you both: the wedding and the weight of your revelation. After the drive back to the beach, you couldn’t bring yourself to return home, unwilling to face the reality waiting for you there. Steve had insisted you stay with him for the night—he couldn’t bear the thought of you facing it all alone, especially not now. He didn’t have all the answers, but he knew he couldn’t just do nothing.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Steve rubbed a hand over his face, the lines of his brow furrowed with thought. His mind raced, trying to conjure solutions, ways to help you. He wanted to be your knight in shining armor, but he knew this wasn’t something he could fix with a few comforting words. You were trapped—your passport, your freedom, your entire future—locked away by the very people meant to love and protect you.

“[Y/N], I…” He faltered, his voice low and uncertain. “I’ll figure something out.”

You sat curled up in the armchair by the window, your gaze fixed on the city lights outside, your expression distant and unreadable. For a long time, you didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. Your silence spoke volumes—he could see the pain etched across your face, the hopelessness lingering in your eyes. It wasn’t just exhaustion; it was the crushing realization that this wasn’t merely a fight for freedom. It was a battle for your entire life.

Steve’s eyes lit with sudden resolve, and he turned to face you, an idea solidifying in his mind. “What if I could help you get out of here?” he asked, his voice urgent but careful.

Your gaze shifted to him, and though curiosity flickered across your face, the sadness in your eyes didn’t waver. “What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his hair, searching for the words. “I can pull some strings. There are people—resources—that could help you. Maybe we can figure out a way to get your passport or get you somewhere safe. You don’t have to stay here. You don’t have to stay trapped.”

You shook your head, the weight of it all settling over you again. “They’ll come for me, Steve. My family…” You trailed off, biting your lip, your voice tinged with despair. “I don’t think I can escape them.”

Steve moved closer, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering determination. “You’re not going through this alone,” he said firmly. “You have more options than you think.”

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the table where a stack of papers sat, before another idea struck him. “The Mustang,” he said suddenly. “I rented it for this trip, but… I can buy it outright. Sell it after. Use the money to help you get started, to give you a chance until we figure out the rest.”

Your eyes widened as you sat up straighter, shaking your head in protest. “I can’t accept that, Steve. It’s too much. It’s your car. It’s… expensive.”

“It’s just a car,” he said, cutting you off before you could finish. His voice softened as his gaze bore into yours, filled with something raw and unguarded. “You mean so much more to me than a car, sweetheart.”

The words caught in the air between you, and his chest tightened at his own vulnerability. You stared back at him, your expression wavering between gratitude and heartbreak. “I don’t think I can go back to my family,” you whispered. “I don’t think I can survive that again.”

A fierce protectiveness surged through Steve as he stepped closer to you. His hand hovered just above your shoulder before finally resting there gently. “I won’t let them take you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I swear.”

You lowered your gaze for a moment, overwhelmed, before meeting his eyes once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you said softly.

Without hesitation, Steve reached out, his hands cupping your face with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He tilted your head up, your eyes locking with his. And in that suspended moment, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss started soft, tentative—a quiet promise in the midst of the chaos surrounding you both. But as it deepened, it carried with it the weight of everything unsaid: the fear, the hope, the connection you had both been too scared to acknowledge until now.

When you finally pulled back, Steve reached into his pocket, his expression momentarily distant. His fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the simple ring he’d carried for years. It had once been meant for Peggy—a relic of a life that never came to be. He had held onto it as a reminder of the past, but now, as he looked at you, he realized something.

Maybe it was time to let go. To stop clinging to a ghost and make space for something new, something real.

You looked up at him, your lips trembling with the beginnings of a smile—a real one, the first he’d seen from you since the day began. “Thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what’s coming next, but… I trust you.”

Steve nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he sat beside you on the bed. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close as the city lights shimmered in the distance. For a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. The only thing that did was the quiet understanding between you—an unspoken promise to face whatever came next together.

⠀⠀

The following morning, you awoke to the soft sound of ocean waves crashing against the shore. The room was dim, the early light creeping in through the windows. Steve lay beside you, turning his head to look at you still asleep, curled up next to him. Your breathing was steady, peaceful—a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before.

Today was his last day in Barbados.

You hadn’t solved everything, not yet, but you had taken the first step. You had found each other in a moment of vulnerability, and for once, the world outside felt a little less pressing. He smiled softly as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your skin.

As he watched you, his thoughts turned to Peggy—her memory, her spirit—but now it felt like a distant ache, not a tether keeping him bound to the past. Peggy had been a part of his journey, but he had learned it was okay to move on, to let go. The future, whatever it held, didn’t need to be defined by what was lost. It could be shaped by what was right in front of him—you, a new beginning, a chance to build something of your own.

You stirred and slowly opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. A soft smile appeared on your lips as you stretched, still half-asleep.

“Morning,” you whispered, your voice thick with the remnants of sleep.

“Morning,” he replied, his heart light despite everything you both still had to face. “How are you feeling?”

Your eyes searched his for a moment, as if weighing the sincerity in his words. You glanced down, lost in thought, before meeting his gaze again. “I’m… okay,” you said quietly. “It’s a long road ahead, Steve. But I don’t feel so lost anymore.”

He nodded, his hand gently caressing your arm. “We’ll take it one step at a time. I’ll help you with whatever comes next. We’ll figure it out together.”

Your eyes softened, and you gave a small nod. You weren’t fully healed, and there was still a long way to go, but there was hope now. And that was enough.

The sun had fully risen by the time you and Steve were ready to face the world again. After the heartfelt conversation the night before, it felt like progress had been made, but the morning light brought a sobering clarity.

Steve stood at the window of the hotel room, staring out at the endless horizon, the weight of his duty pressing down on him. He had known this moment would come. He had always known that being with you was fleeting—a brief escape from the responsibilities he could never quite shake off. There was a sense of urgency in his chest, a reminder of the mission waiting for him, the world that still needed saving.

You had showered and dressed in silence, your face still pale from the weight of everything you’d gone through. You moved quietly around the room, packing your things as if trying to avoid the inevitable. You hadn’t said it, but Steve could feel your resistance. The distance between you had already started to stretch.

He turned away from the window as you sat on the edge of the bed, looking small in the oversized hotel robe. You weren’t meeting his gaze, and he couldn’t blame you. You had put everything on the line to be with him, only to have to face the reality that a future together wasn’t possible—not now, at least.

“I’ve been thinking,” Steve began, his voice steady but tinged with regret. “I might be able to help you get out of here, help you get your life back. Maybe through SHIELD… I’ll make sure you’re safe, that you have a way out of this. I’ll talk to the director.”

You didn’t respond immediately. You just stared at your hands in your lap, your fingers trembling ever so slightly.

“I don’t want you to do this for me, Steve,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You have a life… your duty. You don’t have to fix this for me. I’ll find a way out, one way or another. I’ve been running from this for years. I can handle it.”

Steve clenched his jaw, fighting the frustration bubbling up. “You shouldn’t have to,” he said quietly, walking over to where you sat. He crouched in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “You deserve better than this. You deserve more than a life of being pushed around by other people’s choices.”

Your eyes finally met his, and for a moment, you just looked at each other, the weight of the world between you. “I thought… I thought I could have a different life,” you said softly, your voice breaking as tears filled your eyes. “But I don’t know how to get away from this. I don’t know how to get out.”

Steve took a deep breath, his heart aching for you. The situation wasn’t fair, and he couldn’t give you the kind of life you deserved. Not right now.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wedding ring. It was strange how something so tied to the past had suddenly become a symbol of hope for the future. He had carried it for too long, unsure of whether he would ever move on, but now it felt right.

He placed the ring in your hand, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment. “I can’t stay, sweetheart. You know that,” he said softly. “But this… this is for you. It meant a lot to me for a while, and now I want you to have it so you remember that you’re not alone. You’re stronger than you know, and one day, you’ll find your way out of all this. I believe that.”

You held the ring in your hand, your fingers wrapping around it as if it were the last thing tethering you to a future you weren’t sure you could have. Your tears finally spilled over, and you let out a shaky breath.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” you asked, your voice breaking.

Steve nodded, standing up and giving you one last, lingering look. “I have to. There’s a world that still needs saving, and I can’t turn my back on it. But you’ll be okay. I know you will.”

You nodded slowly, wiping your eyes as you looked at him one last time. “I’ll find a way… to make things right. I will.”

The two of you stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of what you couldn’t have settling between you. Steve reached down and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

“I’ll never forget you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “And maybe one day… if the world isn’t too broken, we’ll find a way back to each other.”

You nodded, your heart torn, but you knew the truth of his words. You were both tied to duty, to the things that had shaped your lives. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t remember the good, the fleeting moments of peace you had shared. You would always have those.

“I’ll keep this,” you whispered, holding up the ring. “It’s all I’ll have left of us.”

⠀⠀

You spent your final hours with Steve, the air between you thick with the bittersweetness of time slipping away. Neither of you wanted to waste a single moment.

The day was filled with small, meaningful acts that made it feel as though time had slowed. A quiet breakfast by the beach, just the two of you, the waves gently crashing against the shore. You walked along the sand, hand in hand, the sound of the ocean almost drowning out the rest of the world. Together, you shared memories, laughter, and stories, pretending, if only for a while, that the weight of the world wasn’t pressing down on you.

But no matter how much you tried to savor each second, reality couldn’t be ignored. Time continued to slip through your fingers.

In the afternoon, the two of you returned to the same spot where you had spent your first evening. The sunset painted the sky in vibrant shades of pink, orange, and gold. Steve leaned against a large rock, his arm wrapped around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. Both of you watched the fading light in silence—a silence that was comfortable but heavy with unspoken words.

“I wish we had more time,” you murmured, breaking the stillness. Turning your face toward him, your eyes met his, reflecting the same sorrow you knew he felt.

“I wish I could give it to you,” he replied, his voice low and steady. He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin as if memorizing the sensation, knowing it might be the last time. “But you’re strong. You’ll be okay. You’ve already come so far.”

You gave him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “What about you, Steve? Will you be okay?”

He hesitated, his answer caught somewhere between honesty and reassurance. He couldn’t promise you he’d be okay, not with everything pulling him in so many directions. But he knew one thing for certain: this day, this moment, would stay with him forever. “I think I will,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You sat together in silence again, watching the sunset, neither of you ready to let the moment go.

As the evening deepened, you returned to the hotel together. Your movements were slower now, reluctant, each step bringing you closer to the inevitable parting. Steve could feel it too, the ache of what was to come. It hurt more than either of you had expected.

Before he left the room, you handed him something—a small, folded piece of paper. He opened it, revealing a drawing of a Mustang, your version of the car he had rented. At the bottom, you had written, “For when you’re far away.”

He looked at you, his chest tightening with emotion. The words he wanted to say caught in his throat. Instead, he stepped forward and pulled you into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around you as if he could hold on forever. He kissed the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your hair, committing it to memory.

“You’ll always have me in your heart,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. You nodded against him, your tears threatening to fall as you held onto him, unwilling to let go.

“And you’ll always have me, Steve. No matter where you are.”

⠀⠀

Steve’s boots clicked against the cold floor of the Avengers compound as he entered, the familiar hum of the place only adds to the weight in his chest. He’d just come back from his brief time away, a time he wasn’t sure how to summarize. It had been a whirlwind, a mixture of emotions he hadn’t expected to feel so deeply. But this sudden vacation had successfully changed him.

As he stepped into the common room, he saw Tony lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to a screen. The moment Steve walked in, Tony looked up with a grin, clearly expecting the usual sarcastic quip.

“So, Cap, how was your vacation?” Tony asked, casually tossing a glance at him.

Steve set down his duffel bag and leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t quite know how to explain what he’d experienced, what he’d left behind. The memories of you lingered in his mind, and they felt like a weight he wasn’t sure how to carry.

“It was… well, it really helped me, Tony,” Steve said quietly, his voice steady, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper there, something he hadn’t figured out how to unpack yet. He glanced out the window for a moment, as though the ocean and the memories of the beach could somehow soothe him. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that time until it was over.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, always quick to read between the lines. But he didn’t push; instead, he took a sip from his glass and leaned back, knowing when not to ask further questions. “Good to hear, Cap. We all need a break now and then.”

Steve nodded, though he didn’t answer immediately. His thoughts drifted back to the last day he had spent with you—how the two of you had spent hours walking along the beach, hand in hand, knowing it was the end of something beautiful but fleeting. He remembered the warmth of the sun on his face, the way your smile had both broken his heart and healed it at the same time. What hit him hardest, though, was the way you had parted. There had been no easy goodbye, no promise that somehow, someway, you would find a way to be together. Just the certainty that life, as it always did, would pull you both in different directions.

He couldn’t shake the thought of that damn Mustang. The one he had rented for you, the symbol of the escape you had needed so badly. You had drawn it for him—your version of it, something small, something tender, that he would hold onto forever. The image of your face, so full of determination and quiet sorrow, was etched in his mind, a constant reminder.

And yet, he knew he had to leave. He couldn’t stay. Duty was calling, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t just throw everything away. You had your own future now, one you had fought so hard to build. And he had his—one that couldn’t afford distractions, no matter how deep the feelings had run.

Tony watched Steve, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” he asked casually.

Steve blinked, shaking himself from his thoughts. He hadn’t expected Tony to guess it so quickly, but then again, Tony always had a way of cutting through the bullshit. He didn’t know how to explain what had happened with you, what it had meant to each other. And he didn’t want to, not yet.

“I am,” Steve admitted softly. “But it doesn’t matter. She’s going to be okay, Tony. I made sure of it.” His voice was low, steady with conviction, but there was something else there—a tinge of regret that he couldn’t quite shake.

Tony studied him for a moment. “That’s good, Cap. But you don’t have to keep it all together all the time, you know? It’s okay to feel like you don’t have all the answers.”

Steve chuckled softly, the humor in his voice tinged with melancholy. “I’m still figuring that out.”

Steve had made sure you left before him and was taken care of before his departure. He had called in every favor, using his influence and SHIELD’s resources to ensure you could leave your old life behind and start fresh. After everything that happened, you deserved a chance at freedom. The control your parents had over your life, the arranged marriage—they had weighed so heavily on your shoulders for so long. But now, with Steve’s help, you were free.

With your new identity, a fresh passport, and a financial cushion, you had the chance to build your future on your own terms. Steve knew you had the strength to make something of yourself, but it wouldn’t be easy. He’d made sure you had the right people backing you, a network of allies who could help you navigate your new life, far from the constraints of your family’s expectations.

You were enrolling in a prestigious university overseas, something you had always dreamed of but never had the opportunity to do before. The freedom you had fought for was finally within reach. Your family would never understand, but you didn’t care anymore. You weren’t the person they had tried to mold you into. You had become your own woman.

But leaving wasn’t simple. The scars of your past, your family’s rejection, and the haunting memories of the arranged marriage still lingered. You had to rebuild yourself from the ground up, and Steve had been there for you every step of the way, even from afar, even if you didn’t directly know it. He had given up a part of himself—his heart, his peace of mind—just to make sure you were safe and had a future. He had set things in motion to ensure you had a chance to be the person you wanted to be, even if it meant not being able to stay in your life.

He had watched you go, knowing that despite everything you shared, you could never be together. You were on your own now, and Steve had to let you go. His duty, his responsibilities, and the life he led as Captain America had always come first. But that didn’t stop him from caring for you, or from wondering what might have been, if only circumstances were different.

As the plane took off, you looked out the window, leaving behind the life that had almost consumed you. Steve’s name echoed in your heart, but you knew you couldn’t look back. You had to keep moving forward. You had your own life to live now, and you would make it count. For him.

You were heading down a different path now, one of independence, of freedom. He had made sure you had the support you needed, and as much as he wished things had turned out differently, he knew he had to let you go.

⠀⠀

Later, as Steve stood in the hallway, his hand on the door to his room, he took one last deep breath. He thought of you, of the way your eyes had sparkled in the fading light of the sun, of the way your smile had broken his heart. He thought of the fading tattoo, the Mustang, and the promise of freedom you now had, and the one thing he had given you—something simple but meaningful: a wedding ring.

It wasn’t his first choice. It wasn’t even his second. It was the one he should’ve given Peggy, the one he carried with him for years as a reminder of what could have been. But now, it had found its way to you—the woman who had made him feel something more than duty, more than responsibility. He couldn’t keep carrying it, couldn’t keep living in the shadow of his past. He had to let go.

The ring was a relic. It didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that, for once, he had lived in the moment.

For Steve, it was the kind of love that burned brightly—intense, fleeting, and beautiful. Like an American wedding, it brimmed with promise, a celebration of what could have been. But some things, no matter how luminous, weren’t meant to endure. And maybe that was okay. Because even in its brevity, it left something lasting—a healing fragment of you, etched into his once broken heart, immune to the passage of time.

And like an American divorce, it became a love story confined to memories—bittersweet and unfinished. You both knew it could never be more, but the echoes of it lingered, quietly shaping the man he would become.

⠀⠀

⠀⠀

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dividers ©️ @k1ssyoursister + @cyberbeat + @atinystaypixie .

angelremnants ©️ 2024. All rights reserved. Do not repost, reproduce, or distribute without explicit permission.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Simon tricks Price into their bedroom after getting desperate for his attention. #GhostPriceWeek

Day Two: Heart/Alpha

cw: omegaverse, fingering, penetrative sex, eventual enthusiastic consent, Price's hang ups with his secondary sex, mating marks, knotting. ( @gomzdrawfr )

Simon sat on the edge of the bed and watched Price as he stood by the window, shoulders squared, his hands tucked beneath his arms as they pulled tight over his chest. He was tired and Simon had tricked him into leaving his office by saying he needed his thoughts on some performance data. Price operated better with pen and paper so he was used to being called in for a face to face. Emailing him was pointless at the moment anyway, because he had several hundred in his inbox from two days leave that he was working through, and the whole fuckin’ point was to pry him out from behind his desk. Bloody muppet.

“‘m sorry, know you’ve got a lot on, I jus’..."

“Ya coulda jus’ said, Simon,” Price said tightly, still chewing over his irritation. He didn't like being lied to. And he absolutely didn't like being fuckin' lied to by Simon Riley specifically. It bit at him in a way very little else did.

“Yeah, right, like you wouldn’t’ve made some shitty excuse,” Simon said dryly, folding his own arms now. In his fleece shorts, cotton t-shirt and bare feet, he looked no less broad than if he sat there in a carrier vest with an M4 cradled in his arms, but the soft fall of the material left far less to the imagination, and Price was staring out the window partly because he knew if he looked he would give in. He smelled bloody gorgeous too, warm and inviting, a scent that sat on the back of Price's tongue and made his mouth water. Simon sighed. “You don't ‘ave time, I get it.”

Price bristled. “I woulda made time.”

“Yeah? Bullshit.” 

“Ya givin’ me attitude, lieutenant?”

“Simon's givin’ ya attitude, ya lieutenant finished his fuckin’ paperwork an’ clocked out three hours ago.”

Price flinched and closed his eyes. There had been hurt in Simon's tone; subtle, no more than a tremor in his deadpan rumble, but it had been there. That was Price told; well and truly put in his place. Served him right for being a fuckin’ cunt, didn't it? He pinched the bridge of his nose, shoulders slumping forward. “Sorry, Simon, I… uh, that weren't fair.”

Price heard the bed creak, old springs sighing with relief as Simon's bulk left them, and in the next breath he felt all the warmth of his mate press up against his back. “Yer shagged, love. I can see that. Lemme hold ya, fuck… I'm gaggin’ for a kiss. Anythin’. Haven't even touched ya in weeks. My fuckin’ ‘eart aches.” 

“Sure it's not ya dick?”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, you grumpy wanker… so, wot? Can't want both? ‘m a man with needs. An’ one is you. All of ya.”

“Didn' ‘ave you down as the hopeless romantic,” Price mumbled, blinking quickly as Simon's warm palms swept around his waist, his nose nuzzling into the fabric of the shemagh wrapped around his neck. “I can't… I've got..”

“Ya can, please, for me… jus’ one night, let me make ya feel good, an’ then fall asleep in my arms. S’all I need an’ ‘ll stop bein’ a needy twat.” 

“Y’ain’t a needy twat.” Price tilted his head against Simon's and let out a deep sigh through his nose. It felt like a ratchet strap had broken loose, his body deflating against Simon's chest. It was so difficult to let him take the wheel; the insecure, indomitable part of Price chafing at the mere hint of submission. But it wasn't submission, was it? It was letting his partner care for him. 

Unlearning the association in his head between intimacy and surrender was a long and winding road, and Simon was so fucking patient with him. So patient that Price felt unworthy of it sometimes. It had to be frustrating to be stuck with an omega whose first instinct was scepticism when offered affection, who had to be coaxed and gentled into spreading his damn legs. Simon could have had the pick of anyone, with the size of him, but he had chosen the scruffy, half chewed wanker in a boonie hat.

Price felt Simon's chapped lips in the bristles of his beard and knew he was desperate to go lower, to close his mouth over the mating mark hidden beneath Price's scarf. It was a level of intimacy Price had always sworn he would extend to no one and it still made him apprehensive in the moments before Simon got there, no matter how many times he proved to be a safe pair of hands. The complete opposite to what anyone would expect of a man that looked like him. Price figured Simon had seen so much brutality from others that he had made the conscious effort to be completely the opposite in his romantic life. 

“See, few weeks without some practice, an’ you're gettin’ anxious again.” Simon's hands slid up Price’s torso, nose tracing his hairline at the back of his neck.

“Not bloody anxious…”

Simon's hand pressed over the left side of Price's chest. “Yer ‘eart says otherwise.” Beneath the pressure, Price could feel it; the frantic thrum of his heart against Simon's palm. The stress of the last few weeks, several operations happening overseas at the same time, all the strings in his hand, left him on a knife edge. The exhaustion was bone deep, his nerves raw. He knew he had become waspish and short with his subordinates, his temper on a trigger even more so than usual…

Some time with Simon would be good for him. Even if his mind still struggled with it all, his body was bonded. Time with his mate would help his mind find the rest that had eluded it for days now, whether it liked it or not. There were some comforts only a bonded pair could provide each other. Price sighed, lifting a hand to twine through Simon's fingers. For fucks sake, it was Simon. This was how it was meant to be. Price was allowed to find comfort in him.

“G’won then. Feel dead on my feet.”

“No need to sound so enthusiastic,” Simon said dryly.

“Yer gonna whine more or you gonna get to it?” Price grumped in return.

Simon responded with a chuckle, rubbing the side of his chin against Price's shoulder. “Bad tempered old bastard.” He said it with such deep affection that Price’s chest felt a little light.

Simon hooked two fingers in Price’s scarf, drawing it off to expose his neck and throat to the cool air. Goosebumps erupted over Price's skin and his arms dropped to his sides, fingers flexing into his palms as he chewed the inside of his cheek. The first few times they had done this, Price had snarled and put Simon on his back, teeth bared, so his jittery anxiety now was progress.

Simon chuffed softly at him, soothing noises made to gentle a distressed omega, and it appealed to Price's base instincts, the ones already luxuriating in the scent of his mated alpha folding around him. His chin dropped forward and he drew in a deep, shuddering breath so that Simon's scent flooded his senses. Simon kissed across the newly exposed skin, palms pulling Price back against his chest so that his scarred lips could reach everything they wanted, and Price lifted unsteady hands to hold his wrists. 

“Breathe, John,” Simon whispered, breath tickling the little hairs on the back of Price's neck.

“Yeah… yeah, right.” As Price’s chest filled, Simon pressed close and dragged the wet flat of his tongue over the sensitive scarring on Price’s neck. Price exhaled with a soft noise, his eyes flickering back, his knees quivering as Simon lapped again. It was like a hundred gentle fingers stroking over his shoulders, down his neck and back to his navel; a tug of pleasure so deep, so instinctual, that it was impossible to resist. 

Damp lips parted, his body sagged into Simon's arms, and Simon chuffed his approval against his skin. Price, his mind eased into a foggy pleasure, offered his first faint trill in response. It curled up his throat, a soft purr, and Simon squeezed him fondly, kissing that mark until Price's knees began to shake again.

“Hmm, easy, love. I've gotcha.” 

Simon guided Price towards the bed and gathered him into his lap, Price's knees bracketing his hips, and Price sank down gratefully, the seat of his trousers pressing to the warm bulge of Simon's crotch as they kissed, Price's hands sliding around Simon's firm jaw. He stayed lost in Simon's mouth as Simon worked his boots and belt off, letting them fall heavily to the floor. His shirt followed, Simon's fingers working down the buttons before pushing it from his shoulders. He pulled it down until the fabric pooled at Price's wrists, trapping them just behind him so that his full chest was thrust out and Simon could kiss the newly exposed skin.

“Ah, Si…” Price gasped. Simon's mouth was bloody heaven; his agile tongue curled around a nipple, lips sinking down to suckle, and Price moaned softly, his hips rolling forward to grind down against the hard length pressed up between his legs. He knew he was getting wet, could feel the slickness in his boxers; it was easy to relax into it when Simon was being so gentle, and his body was so desperate to feel him, the promise of that hard bulge was enough to make him weak.

“Thassit, gonna make you feel so good.” Simon squeezed Price's arse and encouraged the slow rut as he worked over his chest to give the other nipple the same attention. Price squirmed when Simon paused to tug his own shirt over his head and Price shedding his own completely in favour of pushing his fingers into Simon's blond hair, clutching his face close.

Without the cotton barrier, Price could rub himself against Simon's soft body hair, the firm, scorching plains of muscle, the thick musk of his alpha scent coiling around Price's mind like a physical touch, coaxing him deeper into a foggy headspace. He settled into it slowly, reluctant to let his control and alertness slip, but their mated bond smoothed the process. The descent was irresistible when every part of Price, mind and body, wanted to purr with pleasure at Simon's attention.

“Doin’ so good, love,” Simon whispered, his breath hot against Price's sensitive nipple, puckered and hard. He plucked open Price’s fly and slid his hand into the front of his boxers, thumb reaching down to circle the engorged, eager hardness of Price’s cock before dipping into his slit. 

The first touches sent sparks through Price's hips with such intensity that he growled, fingers tightening in Simon's hair. It had been so long. He hadn’t even touched himself in the interim; touchstarved didn't even cover the desperation currently bubbling under his skin. “Fuck, s’too sensitive.”

“Mm, you're jus’ turned on, need to relax. Here, get these off, le’s get comfy.” Simon tapped Price’s waistband and placed a final kiss in the centre of his chest, before relinquishing him. 

Price stood unsteadily, shoving his trousers and boxers to the floor until he stood naked before Simon’s appreciative gaze, his toes curled against the floor as he fought the urge to cover himself like some fair bloody maiden. “Wot?” Price asked, trying to come across authoritative but knowing it was somewhat meak given his flushed he was. He could feel the wetness between his thighs, and couldn't help how his own eyes wandered lower to Simon's crotch. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Simon replied, his low voice thick with desire. He shuffled back on the bed, creating himself a small pile of pillows to lean back on, and then patted his thighs. “C’mere, lean back. Still look like yer about to breach a room full’ve Al Qatala.”

“They'd ‘ave a nasty surprise,” Price murmured as he clambered onto the bed, setting his rear end down between Simon's legs, his knees gathered to his chest. Strong arms curled around him, big enough to make even Price feel well handled, and he huffed softly as he was drawn back into Simon's warmth. 

“Hm, dunno, think they'd see ya in a whole new light. Body as good as yours might bring world peace,” Simon said against the back of Price’s neck.

Price chuckled low in his throat, squirming a little as Simon's hands stroked up his belly to his chest. “I’ll ask Kate whether she thinks yer idea’s operationally via-ah, fuck, Sim-mmn.” 

Those soft lips had closed around his mating mark again, palms massaging his tits before fingers and thumbs began to caress the soft blush of his nipples. Price’s body relaxed in increments, the slow build of heat and pleasure as Simon stimulated two erogenous zones chasing away the last of the anxious tension keeping his back and shoulders stiff.

Simon slid his palms down the length of Price's body to his thighs, lifting them over his own to spread his omega open, and Price huffed in momentary discomfort. He felt exposed, vulnerable; he glanced at the door, tried to keep his eyes open, but Simon deepened his kiss against Price's mark as one hand returned his chest, the other sliding gently through the folds of his cunt. Three points of warmth, of being covered and protected by Simon's body, grounded in the pleasure and reassurance of his touch. His fingers were firm, possessive, rubbing over flushed, slick skin in skilful passes, thumb and the sides of his fingers circling up and down the glistening length of Price's aching cock. 

Fuck, when had he got so hard and so wet? When had his body become so desperate for Simon's touch that it now throbbed under his fingers? Price made soft, tortured noises of bliss as Simon played with his cunt, suckling harder on his mark to trap Price in a feedback loop of euphoria that overcame the momentary distress of being spread open. 

Simon's moan of appreciation rolled through Price's body from his shoulder, and Price curled an arm up to hold Simon’s head, lifting his hips in encouragement as he surrendered completely to his alpha's hands. Simon's mouth drew away from nursing his mating mark to nibble Price’s ear, muttering soft praise. “Yer so fuckin' sexy…”

Price huffed a soft, delirious laugh at how drunk Simon sounded, slurring out ‘sexy’ like it was treacle on his tongue. Suckling on all those omega pheromones had done a number on him. But Simon soon got his revenge, his second hand joining his first at Price’s cunt, a thick finger sliding inside.

Price lifted his head and looked down the slope of his body, groaning at the sight. There were few things hotter than watching Simon's big hands pawing at his cunt, spreading his slick folds open, teasing and squeezing with perfect pressure while his thick fingers plunged in and out of Price’s hole, glistening with evidence of just how fuckin’ turned on he was, how close to the edge as thrills of pleasure pulsed through his core like an electrical current. Price rocked up into it, throwing his head back as his orgasm tingled at the very edges of his awareness. “Ung, Si… fuck, gonna…”

“Yeah, g’won, don't hold back,” Simon said, and the long, slow lick over Price's mating mark was enough to finish him off. He was skilled enough to slow his caresses as Price came, his entire body tensing up, eye screwing shut as he gasped Simon's name over and over. It was intense, white light behind the eyes, his cunt soaking Simon's palm, and he gasped tightly until the swell of pleasure ebbed lower and he was able to slump, panting, against Simon's chest. In a haze, he watched as Simon lifted his hands away, only to slide his wet fingers into his damn mouth with a satisfied groan. 

“Ya filthy bugger,” Price mumbled, delirious. He flopped away, his cunt still tingling with the aftermath of his orgasm, the air cool against his sweaty back as he sprawled on his front. “Gimme a moment, I'll see t' you.” Simon’s cock was testing the fabric of his shorts, a damp spot soaking through at the tip, and Price’s mouth watered at the thought of the musky taste of it. 

“Oh, love, only one place I wanna be. Tha's knotted inside ya.” Simon lifted his rear and shoved his shorts, his thick cock flopping back against his belly, strong veins running its length from root to tip, ruddy and leaking. Price let out a soft moan, pressing his chest down and lifting his hips a little. The sight and smell of it in the mire of pheromones and arousal, the way he wanted Simon's heavy bulk over him, pushing him down… 

“Oh, fuck, yer wanna be bred, don’tcha, love? Desperate for a good fuckin’ knot, my hot load fillin’ y’up...”

“You got a filthy fuckin’ mouth, Riley…” Price growled, fuck… half moaned. Yeah, he wanted all of that. Every last word.

“Can't help it, seein’ you like this, so ready fer me, does somethin’ to my brain.” Simon rolled onto his hands and knees and crawled over the bed until he was sliding over Price's back, his knees either side of Price’s thighs. The slick head of his cock pressed into Price's slit, nudging the underside of his cock as it slid back and forth, teasing. “Tell me ya want me, John. Tell me ya want me t’ mate ya.”

Price clutched at the sheets, panting, as he felt Simon's huge cock grind against him. His heart hammered in his chest, not through anxiety, but raw, primal need and excitement. He could feel Simon above him, big, thick all over, his body glowing with the heat of arousal, the bulbous tip of his cock pressing insistently against Price’s entrance with each pass. He felt enveloped, overcome, and all he wanted was to feel his alpha inside him. “Yeah, Simon… please… fuck me, please, need ya…”

Simon growled possessively, his cock sinking into Price's cunt all at once, sheathing itself inside him in a single, fluid thrust that knocked the breath from his lungs. He felt so perfectly full, Simon's huge prick satisfying the clutching need tightening in Price's gut. Simon didn't give him a chance to grow used to it, the fullness, and withdrew for another deep thrust that ground his full, heavy balls against Price's slit.

Simon didn't need encouragement, his knees spreading, cock plunging deep. Price cried out as his body was made to yield over and over, relaxed muscles stretching wide, so slick that every thrust sent a hot swell of pleasure licking up Price's spine. Simon curled around his back, big arms bracketing Price’s shoulders as his belly bumped against the curve of his arse, cock welcomed deep inside Price's eager cunt as Price tilted his hips up, his knees digging into the mattress for purchase. 

“Yer so fuckin’ wet, fuck,” Simon groaned, hips slapping loudly, shunting Price into the bed with the force of his movements, strong arms keeping him pinned in place so his body couldn't be forced further away..

And it was so damn bloody good. 

Simon found the perfect angle, punching low moans from Price's chest, stoking a furnace of white hot pleasure in his gut that only intensified when a large hand folded over Price's jaw, thumb slipping between his lips like Simon wanted to possess every damn hole Price had. Demanding lips found his mating mark once more, teeth nipping and tongue laving, short-circuiting Price's brain as he moaned wetly around Simon's thumb. 

Simon was so hard, so fuckin’ big, Price was sure he could feel Simon's heartbeat throbbing through his cunt; a relentless, powerful thrum matching the frantic pump of his own. It was his only anchor, his mind soft, completely enraptured by his alpha’s body, his scent, the sound of his guttural snarls as he took his pleasure and promised to come deep inside his omega’s cunt. Price's body was like Semtex, manipulated in Simon's hands until the very moment he wanted it to detonate. 

“Harder, fuck… Simon, harder, yeah, yeah, like that, mmm, ahh!”

“Such a greedy hole, perfect fit for my dick,” Simon growled, his voice tight.

The stretch intensified as Simon's knot began to swell, forcing Price wider, and Price would have been ashamed of the wrecked wails breaking from his throat if he'd had much awareness left. Simon had fucked him senseless, his mouth hanging open, his hands scrambling at his sheets, his entire body numb and alight with sensation at the same time. Just a snug, wet, eager hole for Simon to fuck. He balanced there on the edge, his toes and fingers tingling, the intensity of the pleasure making his cunt spasm and flutter around the relentless piston of Simon's cock.

Price lost track of how long he was pinned beneath his alpha's body, gloriously helpless as Simon hollowed him out, wringing pleasure from him without mercy. Price needed that knot to fill, and each time it popped in and out of him was sweet torture. He needed it swollen in his cunt, locking his alpha inside him, needed to be filled so absolutely that he didn't have room to breathe, as Simon brimmed him with his seed. 

Such a desire would have disgusted him before he had bonded with Simon and perhaps, in the cold light of day it would again, but in the frenzied heat of their coupling, the thought of it made him almost mad with need. It was primal, instinctual, born from millions of years of evolution. 

Simon's hips stuttered, slapping hard in two final thrusts, before his knot ground into Price's cunt as his cock pumped him full of cum. Price moaned loudly as he was bred, Simon's teeth massaging around the scent gland beneath his mating mark to hold him still. Price's climax poured through him in answer to the flood of heat inside him, his channel clutching at Simon's knot, milking it in tight pulses as Simon rocked his hips in slow, lazy rolls, as if he could fuck his spend deeper into Price's body. 

“Christ, yer a fuckin’ dream…” Simon slurred, mouth drawing away to lap at Price’s mark between each word. His cock was still twitching, and he groaned when Price's body squeezed in response.

“Was so good, Si… so fuckin’ good…”

“My cock, my knot, everythin', s’all yours, ‘m yours… love you, John. Love you so fuckin’ much. Get so low when yer not here, when we can't be close.”

Price twisted as much as he could for the kiss, their tongues lapping together through parted lips. It was a promise. Price could do better. He could make the time. He had to. All they had was each other, and apart, without an opportunity to mate, to hold each other, their hearts ached. And he had been a prized fuckin’ wanker for being up his own arse about it earlier. It was hard enough for Simon to ask for things without Price adding to the hurdles. 

With a soft sigh of contentment, Simon nuzzled Price's hair after their lips had parted and Price's face fell back to the sheets. In the haze of fucked out bliss, Price melted into the bed, his alpha knotted deep inside him, heavy body draped over, protective bulk caging him in, Price closed his eyes and drifted…

When Simon's knot went down some fifteen minutes later, he withdrew gently, rolling Price onto his back. Price arched as kisses trailed down his chest and belly, moaned softly when those chapped lips reached his cock and sucked it hungrily, before that clever tongue slid into his cunt to taste their coupling. Simon's big palms rested on the inside of Price’s thighs, pressing them out, but Price didn't need coaxing; he threw his arms above his head and rolled his hips slowly against Simon's mouth with wanton abandon, gasping and moaning encouragement, his legs spread wide so Simon could tongue and kiss his sensitive cunt without restraint.

Simon was his, and he was Simon's, and for the rest of the night, that was all that mattered. Two lovers, one heartbeat.

[lawsvalentine]

Dating a Popstar S/O • OP Men HC •

(FLUFF/HUMOR)

Popstar!reader

Characters: Monster trio + Law

CW: none just cuteness and shits and giggles 😁

Cee’s Note: Got inspired from Film Red movie and now I can’t stop thinking about popstar!reader. I’m definitely gonna make a nsfw hc about it 🤭 anyways enjoy!

Luffy

If you’re writing lyrics, Luffy will insist you use ones he came up with

Let’s just say his choice in lyrics are….interesting

“No”

“C’monnnn y/n”

“No, Luffy”

“But, why-“

“I am not adding “and they’re morons” to my song” 🙄

Loves to help you rehearse your dance routine before a performance (sometimes chopper joins in as well)

I imagine it’s like this video of tom and zendaya dancing

Will interrupt your performance onstage for the most mundane things sgdhdj

“Y/NNNN! I’m hungry, how long til your concert is over?”

“LUFFY?!?! I’m in the middle of a performance! Get off the stage!!!

Zoro

He is literally your bodyguard and will not hesitate to slice someone if they try to grab you on stage

God help whoever decides to trash talk you or your music, they will be met with his blade 🤭

Puts up a front that he’s not into pop music but you swore you saw him bobbing his head to your songs one time shdhdj

“I saw you boppin your head” *smirks*

“NO! that was me…uh…nodding my head…to Usopp b-because he asked me a question”

“Yeah whateva” 🙄

Sanji

He is literally your biggest fan 🤭

Will literally be decked out in your merch, rockin a “I ❤️ Y/N” shirt

Mans nearly fainted when he first saw you perform on stage sghssj

Always actin a fool in the crowd with all his love outburst

“Y/N-SWANNNNNNN! YOU’RE SO GORGEOUS AND TALENTED!” *spins around with heart eyes*

Despite all your screaming adoring fans, he manages to be the loudest one in the crowd

Law

He will play it off like he’s unfazed by you being a popstar, especially if he’s dating you

But mans is lowkey a fanboy of you sghdjd

PLSS he will know all your songs 😭

He thinks you are the most talented person alive and mans is head over heals for you

He has a favorite song of yours that you didn’t know until he asked you to sing it for him one night

“You want me to sing-“

“Don’t make this a bigger deal than it is”

He’s so embarrassed but you think it’s adorable

He thinks you have the prettiest voice he’s ever heard 🥺

Shanks

Loves to show you off

Couldn’t be prouder to have the world’s biggest and most stunning popstar on his arm

Will do the absolute MOST with pda in front of paparazzi

“Shanks! Not in front of the cameras”

“Let em take pictures. Need the whole world to see you’re mine”

Will surprise you with post performance flowers

[lichenes]

OMG I'M SO GLAD SOMEONE IS WRITING ABT SKI AGGUUUUU. there's so many joost fics (which I love) but I've been looking for aggu fics in the depths of the internet for soo long ( ´_ゝ｀)

~

anyways, can i please request something where the reader catches the eye of aggu during a concert or smth, and the whole interaction between them is cute and flirtatious? ski aggu is a BIG ladies man, so, reader is obviously falling for his pick-up lines ect. thank you!! ^3^

Literally! Where are the Aggu fics?? I've seen edits of this man with 19k likes on tiktok and literally noody is posting abt him here!! Anyway! Once again, need him biblically. I'm a sucker for irl scenarios :"") Loosely based on that one video of sbd holding Aggu's hand; jealous. Enjoooy<3 CW: flirting wc: 686

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The crowd, alongside you, was singing the lyrics to “wie du manchmal fehlst”. You were standing in the first row, mesmerised by Aggu’s form. Throughout the night he would run around the stage but during this song he walked closer to the crowd. You realised at that moment that he was making a beeline for you. You quickly thanked your earlier self for wearing something revealing and extended your arm towards him. 

When your fingers connected with his own your brain short-circuited. Suddenly the room started spinning. You were literally holding Aggu’s hand. You kept singing hoping your singing skills were satisfactory, if he heard them. He looked down at you and gave you a smile as if to reassure you that it was happening in real life. You saw his grills alongside the grin he flashed you and my god, did he look good from that point of view.

He moved around near the crowd for a moment more and went back to his usual theatrics. You got a video of him holding your hand which might’ve been the happiest moment of your life so far. He moved away from you after a moment of closeness to get close to other fans, avoiding holding hands with anyone else. The song was one of the last ones he performed so not long after he said his goodbyes he walked backstage. 

After the concert Aggu posted a story in English pertaining to the person who held his hand. It so happened to be you. You dm’d him, sending the video as proof if he wanted it. He didn’t answer quickly. Your anxiety was rising with each passing hour. Suddenly when you were just about to go to sleep, you heard a notification. “How’d you like the concert?” 

You couldn’t believe this. “I loved it!! I honestly was sooo happy when I got the tickets and-” You stopped for a moment, deleting the message entirely. “It was lovely!” You tried to seem nonchalant but it couldn’t be denied that you were fucking texting The Ski Aggu. He sent you a voice message.

…

Holy shit. Did he expect one back? What did he say? What was even going on?! “Mmm, glad you liked it. I couldn’t help but notice such a beautiful person among the crowd.” It was only a few seconds long but it made your heart flutter like a ballad sung by the greatest singer to ever live. You gathered all your courage and pressed ‘record’. You rambled for a minute straight and when your phone buzzed with the message reaching its full capability you decided against sending it. ‘Okay. We can do this.’ You thought about what you wanted to say and attempted to try again. Then a message popped up. “Hesitating gorgeous?” 

…oh my god.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You responded, quickly regretting your decision. He saw the message and started typing. “Good.” Your heart stopped for a second. You pressed record and began rambling once more. Sent. Okay. Alright. “You’ve got a voice as gorgeous as your face angel.” The answer came quicker than you expected. He sent another voice message. “I was thinking, maybe you’d like to meet up today? I heard you’ve got great clubs here.” 

You were frantically getting ready, suddenly forgetting how to do eyeliner and what clothes suited you the best. “I’m here.” You read the message in your notifications. You brushed your teeth quickly and ran out the door, almost breaking a leg on the stairs. You saw him in his car waiting, scrolling through tiktok. He was wearing his usual clothes and you started feeling a bit too overdressed. His reaction to your appearance swept you off your feet. 

“Hi dov-” Looking up from his phone he saw what he would describe as the embodiment of the word breathtaking. His jaw almost went slack from seeing you in those clothes. “My goodness, you’re even more beautiful now. How’d you do that?” You blushed. “Tried my best with what I have.” He looked at you with lust in his eyes. “Oh and you’ve got so much.” 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────• masterlist

[carlottawllms]

Make You Feel Good

Ben Chilwell x Reader Fluff / Smut Word Count: 3.9K

Excuse the rather long (and maybe weird) build-up and the fact this whole thing might be absolute rubbish. I didn’t know how to start this one for some reason and I struggled a lot with the smut...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! <3 As always, feedback is very much appreciated.

Before you’d actually met Ben, all you’d known was how he was constantly pictured as a womaniser, someone who wouldn’t pass up the opportunity of a quick shag and whatever situationship came his way.

Not that you were surprised. Years of friendship with Mason had taught you a thing or two about the media and public and just like him, Ben was a successful, gorgeous young footballer people liked to talk about.

Men about the performance of the boys on the field. And women...well…whether they really knew them or not constantly had something to say and alleged secrets to reveal. You couldn't count on two hands how many times you’d heard about Mason's alleged love affairs from the media or some random women on social media.

With Mason, that had never been much of a problem. He had thick skin and a good support system and most of the stuff he’d never read anyway and even if it made you a little angry, knowing it didn't faze him, helped.

Ben however was a different story. He wasn't one of those hard-shell-soft-core people. He was soft all over. A big, warm and cuddly teddy-bear. And he was someone who needed a bit of protection.

When you’d gotten together about a year ago, you’d quickly realised that the picture the media had painted of him, was not true in the slightest. Ben wasn’t a womaniser who shagged every woman he came across. He was quite the opposite.

Reserved when it came to the physical bit. It had taken him a long while until he’d opened up to you for the first time. Until he’d had the guts to tell you that sex in a relationship wasn’t that important to him and that it was difficult for him to go for it all the time.

You’d seen it in his eyes in that moment; the expectation of you running off and leaving him like some others had before you, but instead, you’d kissed him softly and pulled him into a hug, telling him it was alright.

After having been given the feeling of only being good enough for a satisfying shag in previous relationships, finally having found someone who needed more than that and was not shying away from showing the loving and romantic side of himself, felt like heaven on earth.

Lately however, Ben had pulled away completely. Not emotionally, but physically. The situation with Chelsea had taken a toll on him and kept weighing him down, especially now that, more often than not, he was put on the bench or forced to play in a position that didn’t come naturally to him. His performances were meh, clearly below the expectations of the fans and therefore miles away from what he expected of himself.

At first, he’d tried to deal with it on his own, but his personal experiences from the past had quickly led him to confide in you. He’d told you how much pressure rested on his shoulders and that he didn’t feel like he could give his all, so he wanted to direct his full attention on football for a while.

And that’s how he’d unintentionally put you both on a sex ban.

Instead of cooking together, cuddling on the sofa or loving one another between the sheets, Ben spent the majority of his time in front of the TV or his laptop, watching and analysing entire games, individual scenes or simple mistakes repeatedly in order to be better prepared for the next game.  

More often than not, you kissed him goodnight and went to bed alone, only for him to crawl under the covers hours later like a dead man and fall asleep without even pulling you into his arms.

It wasn't that you didn't understand. Quite the opposite actually as you knew that Chelsea meant a lot to him and he wanted things to get better, but the combination of lack of sleep, losses and the lack of comfort of your relationship he cherished so much, led to him being an emotional and moody mess that occasionally lost his shit over the smallest of things.

And whilst you could deal with a lot of things, a constantly stroppy boyfriend wasn’t one of those.

The defeat against Villa marked the day you eventually decided that something had to change. As you were preparing the dinner in the kitchen, the door opened and slammed closed almost immediately, followed by the thud of Ben’s bag hitting the floor and it wasn’t long before Ben passed you with an annoyed look on his face.

He grumbled a simple “Hi” and squeezed your waist in an attempt of a greeting and disappeared into the living room, no doubt watching today’s game back.

“Okay, that’s enough.”, you sighed quietly. Placing the spatula to the side as the dinner had to wait for a little while, you made your way upstairs to prepare something, that had been crossing your mind a couple of times those last few days.

Between training sessions, games and analysing everything all over again at home, Ben had barely taken the time to unwind and relax properly – physically and mentally – and as it didn’t look like that would change anytime soon, you’d decided to look after him and help him get rid of all the pent-up frustration torturing his mind and body.  

Whilst letting him mull about the result downstairs, you were quick in getting the bedroom ready. From the way he was so trapped in his own head, you knew he’d probably not take too well to you jumping his bones straight away, so you’d come up with this plan of a little massage and seeing where that would lead.

He needed to switch off, let you take care of him and you knew he was aware of that too. As always, Ben just needed a little push.

Once the curtains were closed and slow music was softly playing in the background, you changed into a cute, but slightly sexy pair of pyjama shorts and a matching t-shirt before making your way downstairs again.

Ben was still glued to the same spot on the sofa, his gaze focussed on the match replay on the tv. His furrowed brows made his usually so soft and warm eyes appear all hard and his lips were forced into a straight line with no hint of the sweet smile you loved so much.

You hated seeing him like this. So sad and dejected.

“Benji?” You voice was barely loud enough to drown out the commentator talking about how there was still so much work to do for Chelsea, and when Ben made no move to pay even the tiniest amount of attention to you, you moved right in front of him.

“Come with me please?”

Ben looked up at you, confusion clearly written all over his face as until today you’d always let him do his thing after games, but when you didn’t budge and simply held your hand out for him, he eventually grabbed it and followed you up the stairs in silence.  

“What’s all this?”, he asked once you’d entered the darkened bedroom. He immediately noticed the scent of your perfume and when you moved your hand up his arm and leaned into him a little, he couldn’t help but feel at ease.

“I know it’s all been very difficult lately.”, you mumbled, fingers dancing over the warm skin of his forearm. “You’re so hard on yourself and you know I understand and support you, Ben, but you need to allow yourself to switch off too. You’re torturing yourself with what you’re doing and when you refuse to take care of you, you’ll have to let me do it.”

“y/n-”

“Do you trust me?”, you asked, moving in front of him so you could look him in the eye and when you grabbed his hands, Ben was quick to nod.

“Of course, I do.”

“Good.”, you smiled, feeling the way he squeezed your hands. “Then give me a little kiss and take your shirt and joggers off before lying down on your front for me.”

Ben wanted to refuse. He wanted to tell you no and go back downstairs to watch the rest of the game, but the way your thumbs continuously caressed the back of his hands as your eyes stared into his, made him nod eventually.

“Okay.”, he whispered as he cupped your cheek and dipped down; eyes zoning in on your lips and for a split second the question of how long he’d gone without kissing you crossed his mind, but before he could say anything, your lips met his in a long overdue, soft kiss.

Ben almost immediately sighed at way you felt against him and when you melted into his body as he wrapped his arm around your waist, he hummed in content. He’d missed you. A lot.

“Take it off and lay down, Benji.”, you whispered against his lips when you had to part to catch your breath. Your heart was racing, and it would be easy to get distracted by the way he felt against you, but you had a plan and you wanted to go through with it.

After another sweet peck, Ben eventually pulled away, took his shirt and joggers off and flopped down onto his front, leaving you admiring his toned back and curved bum for a few seconds.

Ben was attractive in the best of times, but there was something about him in not more than boxers with his bare upper body on display. His smooth skin was basically begging to be touched and the way he used his arms as a pillow had the muscles in his back bulging.

A surprised grunt flew past his lips when you all but flopped down on his back, face hiding away in his neck for a few seconds as you simply enjoyed his proximity, but it wasn’t long until you sat back up and reached for the oil you’d placed on the nightstand.

“Might be a bit cold for a sec.”, you warned him as you poured a bit of the liquid all over his back, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Feels nice.”, he hummed the moment you started to run your hands over his shoulders, fingers massaging the soft flesh in a way that had him melting into the mattress a little more and you couldn’t help but smile. You hadn’t seen him this relaxed in a rather long while and the longer you kept working away on his muscles, the deeper his content sighs got.

When you brushed a particularly tender part of his back, a moan flew past his slightly opened lips. It wasn’t more than a tiny one, but it still managed to spark something inside of you.

You’d always enjoyed touching him and loved the way his skin felt warm and smooth beneath your fingers but having him like this underneath you was something else entirely. The way he was so calm and relaxed had a mixture of happiness and pride rushing over you, but it was his tiny moans that made you feel something in the pit of your tummy.

You dipped your hands down his sides, the gentle caress of your fingers causing goosebumps to erupt, and you couldn’t help the tiny smirk appearing on your lips.

“You like that?”, you asked quietly as you repeatedly ran the tips of your fingers all over his sides.

“Mhmm.”, he hummed, nodding his head as best as he could. “Very much.”

With your hands settled on his sides, you bend down. Lips barely brushing his skin and leaving tiny kisses, you made your way up his back. It was a first, careful indication of where you wanted this night to end and when he didn’t push you off or tell you to stop, you continued kissing and nibbling on his skin.

Ben’s breathing deepened, the more kisses you left all over his back and when you pressed a kiss right behind his ear, a shuddery breath left his lips.

“Keep going.”, he whispered; his voice slightly hoarse and laced with the emotions running through him. He could feel your touch everywhere, tingles rushing down his spine with every inch you covered, and it wasn’t long that he felt your lips brushing his jaw.

You pecked the corner of his mouth and laid down next to him, turned on your side so you could look at him and you were pretty satisfied with how riled up you’d got him. His cheek was flushed, hand clutching the sheets gently and he was still panting a little, hips shifting against the mattress for what you assumed was some sort of friction.

“Fuck that felt good.”, he chuckled breathlessly as he moved to lay on his side as well and you could tell by the impressive tent forming in his white Calvins, that he meant it.

Ben leaned in and pressed a rather heavy kiss to your lips. His hand finding your waist and pushing underneath your shirt to caress your soft skin almost immediately and as you were so swept up in the moment, it didn’t take you long to deepen the kiss a little more.

“y/n.”, he moaned as he felt you burying your teeth in his bottom lip, and you were quick in using the chance to invade his mouth and brush your tongue against his with slow, lazy strokes.

Kissing Ben always felt like you were pulled into another universe, but after not having had him like this in a while, the way his lips moved against yours felt even more intense.

Not thinking straight anymore, Ben let you push him on his back. One of his hands found its way to the back of your head, whilst the other dug into the soft flesh of your waist, effectively pulling you even closer.

However, when you moved your leg over his thighs and arched into his side a little more, fingers trailing over his collarbone, you felt him getting a little rigid. It was as if the brain fog had eventually cleared a little and made him notice the direction you were heading in.

“y/n, I-”

“Shhh.”, you whispered against his lips, featherlight touches travelling down his tummy and causing his abs to contract. “Let me help you relax, Benji. You’ll feel so much better.”

The surprised moan he let out when you barely brushed his hard cock over his boxers had the tingle between your legs returning. His whines and moans, especially the breathless ones when he was close, were insanely sexy to you and you didn’t think you could live another day without hearing them properly again.

“I don’t know, I just…Oh fuck.”

You knew he thought he wanted to push you off and take a cold shower, but the slightly increased pressure of your hand and your teeth nibbling at his pulse point did all the convincing that had to be done.

“We’ll go slow, okay?” You kissed his lips softly again. “And I’ll stop whenever you want me to, I promise. Okay?”

“Okay.”, he rasped, eyes squeezed shut as you kept palming him over his boxers and after a few more seconds you could feel him surrendering to the pleasure and relaxing into the mattress. “It feels so fucking good.”

The kiss you shared grew messy really quickly as Ben could barely concentrate on anything that wasn’t your hand and you had to hold yourself back from jumping his bones, so you took your time, but it wasn’t long until you snuck your hand into his boxers and let your fingers trail over his hard cock.

“Fuck!”, Ben choked, his hips involuntarily bucking up to meet your touch. “Please don’t tease.”

It was obvious how touch-starved he actually was and how much he had been craving to feel you like this again, but you wanted to keep it slow, so you pulled away until you were barely touching the sensitive skin. It wasn’t meant in a teasing way. More a way to rile him up as much as possible so you could provide him with one of these insane highs, he loved to give to you.

“Do you want more, Benji?” A small proud smirk playing at your lips at the way he nodded like a madman, almost giving himself whiplash. “Yeah? You do?”

“Yes please. y/n, I just…anything, just please- Oh my god.”

Ben threw his head back into the pillow when you grabbed his hard cock into your hand fully and ran your thumb through the leaking pre-cum a couple of times before starting to stroke him properly. Slowly though as you wanted to feel him properly and ease him back into things.

But from the way he kept twitching and pulsing in your grip, it was easy to tell he didn’t need any time at all to get back into it. Tiny whimpers and moans echoed from the walls; a vocal reminder that it was actually you who made him feel this way. And the only one who got to see him in this state. Slightly sweaty, body melted into the mattress, abs contracting. Pretty eyes squeezed shut, lips parted and hands fisting the sheets.

He looked gorgeous. And sexy as hell.

“You look so hot Ben.”, you hummed; lips trailing along his jaw until you found his sweet spot. Sucking slightly on his skin pulled a louder moan from him and when you buried your teeth in his skin and soothed the sting with your tongue soon after, Ben’s breath caught in the back of his throat.

“You’re…insane.”, he moaned. “Fuck, y/n, it feels so fucking good.”

A particularly harsh squeeze around his dick had his hips repeatedly bucking into your hand and you knew he was getting closer to his release but as this wasn’t the way you wanted him to cum, you pulled back and sat up on your heels.

“What the-”

“Shh.”, you grinned, fingers already hooked into the waistband of his boxers. The material snapping against his skin eliciting a rather harsh hiss from him. “Can I take these off?”

Ben could barely nod in agreement, his brain way too fogged from the pleasure running through his veins, but it wasn’t good enough for you. Tutting, you grabbed his chin between your fingers so you could make him look at you.

His usually so warm and bright eyes were dark and clouded. A look you hadn’t seen in them in what felt like forever.  

“I need your words, baby. Do you want me to keep going?”  

“Yes.”, he panted. “Fuck, yes please baby.”

The boxers were off in mere seconds, giving you way more room to play with him for a little longer and with your hand back to stroking his dick, you started to move down his body, teeth just about nibbling on his skin, but to your utter surprise, Ben’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulled you back up and crashed his lips on yours.   

You were startled for a second, overthinking if you’d overdone it or why else he didn’t want you to give him head, but when he pulled away for a second and moaned “Faster, please.” against your lips, all worries were erased from your brain, and you obeyed.

It wasn’t long before Ben threw his head back into the pillow and bucked his hips up repeatedly, chasing your hand for even more friction and that delicious release that was so close already he could almost taste it.

“I want you to look at me.”, you hummed into his ear and to your surprise, Ben actually turned his head and opened his eyes. “Now cum for me, baby.”

And that was all it took for him. With a mixture of moans, curses and your name falling from your lips, he reached one of the most intense highs he’d ever had.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my-fuck!”

You could feel his release covering his tummy and your hand and making a literal mess, but you couldn’t look anywhere else other than his face. Contorted in pleasure and lips parted, with whimpers and pants falling from them, he still kept his gaze on yours and the way his now dark eyes were all clouded made you feel all sorts of things.

Despite having finished, you kept stroking him to keep the tiny sparks of pleasure flying through his body, like he always did once he’d brought you to your high with his tongue and only when his whole body was shivering and he pushed your hand off, did you stop.

His chest was heaving; the afternoon shenanigans had worn him out like nothing before, but now that he was slowly coming down from his high, realisation of what just happened hit him.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hold it anymore.”, he mumbled embarrassed. He didn’t think he’d ever cum this quickly before. “I just…I don’t even know. I really wanted your mouth, but I was so close already, I think it would’ve killed me.”

“Don’t worry, baby.”, you smiled, turning his face towards yours again. “It was hot as fuck.”

Pushing yourself up on one arm you ran your finger through the cum on his tummy and brought it up to your lips; eventually getting the taste he’d withheld from you less than a minute ago and the simple move had Ben groaning beneath you.

“Stop that.”, he whined. “It makes me want to go again.”

“I wouldn’t mind that, you know.” Lowering yourself on the same level as him, you brought your lips close to his ear. “I’d actually love to have the full package, Benji.”

“You’re killing me, woman.”, he groaned before gripping the back of your head and pulling you in for another passionate kiss. He could taste himself on your tongue as he brushed his own against it, but it only sparked another rush of excitement inside himself.

He still felt sensitive and a little sore, but the moment you were fully naked underneath him, he couldn’t care less.

“Ben.”, you moaned. Your fingers dug into his arms, nails most definitely leaving crescent imprints in his soft skin, but the way he stretched you deliciously, was taking over even the tiniest parts of your brain. “Fuck, I missed this so much.”

“I missed it, too, baby.”, he breathed. “Won’t ever go this long without fucking you, I promise.”

And a heavy kiss to your lips sealed his promise before he eventually started to move his hips in a way that had you seeing stars.

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚Telepatía

✧.* Request- @cvmtitss

"Hey, my first time requesting you! I was wondering if you could do a joost w a fem reader where she's famous as well and she has a concert but doesn't think joost can make it due to him being busy or she thinks he has a tour and he comes back early without telling her. And so while she's performing the music, either suddenly changes or turns off and then she turns around and sees joost like proposing overall it js seems rlly cute and fluffy ❤️"

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Musician! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - fluff

✧.* Summary - Joost proposes to the love of his life while she is performing on stage in front of thousands of fans.

✧.* Extra- The reader's performance will be inspired by Kali Uchis' stage performance at Lollapalooza in Brazil (2023) because i'm obsessed with that fucking performance LMAO but if you guys don't like it, ofc change it up for your own imagination. Also highlighted parts are dutch.

✧.* Word Count - 1,442

It was one of the last tours that (Y/N) was doing and she decided to add the cherry on top in Brazil. She had everything ready to go. Her crew, her outfits, the stage, but she was missing one important thing. Her man. Joost was always there to support (Y/N) at her concerts. Whether it was on stage performing with her or watching her with heart eyes behind the scenes. This time, he was on his own tour in Europe, which was what (Y/N) thought.

It was a couple hours before the show was about to start and (Y/N) was starting to get ready while being on the phone with Joost. l “I’m really sad you aren’t here with me, my love,” she expressed.

She heard Joost softly chuckle on the other line. “I know, honey. I wish I was there with you. I love watching you sing and dance, but this is your last show and I finish mine next week. We’ll see each other soon, very soon, gorgeous.”

(Y/N) was content to hear that. She couldn’t wait to see her lover. “I know, im so excited to see you again. Anyways, I got to go. My stylist just arrived,” She blew him a kiss and ended the call with ‘I love you’ one of the few phrases she knows in dutch.

Mine while, in a small town in Brazil, Joost made a plan to get to where (Y/N) was performing and get on his knee to pop that one particular question he’s been waiting to ask her. He landed there a couple days before (Y/N) was set to perform. He presented his plan to his crew and they immediately were on board to help him. His social media crew helped give the allusion to the media that Joost was still in Europe. He had it all planned out carefully and it was all going smoothly. The only thing getting in his way was time. He had to wait a good couple of hours to sneak into her set.

Joost managed to get (Y/N)’s manager’s number and immediately called him. A couple rings pass by until he heard the sound of the other line getting picked up. “Hello?” he heard the voice of (Y/N)’s manager say.

“Hey, what’s up man, it’s Joost. Can I facetime you real quick?” Joost asked.

“Yeah man,” the manager said. They quickly switched to facetime to talk “face to face” (virtually).

“You will never guess where I am at,” Joost said in a jokingly manner. He turned the camera to a small flag of Brazil and giggled.

“Are you serious? That’s awesome, dude, welcome. Does (Y/N) know you’re here?” the manager asked. Joost turned his camera back on his face and shook his head, saying no.

“No, and we need to keep it that way because…” Joost picked up a small black box and opened it. It revealed beautiful gold ring with the most alluring diamond on top to show the camera.

The manager let out a happy laugh, “That’s fucking awesome, man. Are you going to ask her after her show?”

“No, I’m going to ask her during her show, on stage. And that’s why I called to ask you if you can sneak me on set and not tell her. I want this to be special to her,” Joost replied.

“100% we’ll let you on stage and hide you. (Y/N) is going to love every second of whatever you plan to do. Uh, yeah, alright i’ll alert everyone about the plan and let you know when she arrives at the stadium” the manager said. Joost gave him a quick thank you and goodbye before hanging up the call. He did a small fist pump and smiled. Now the only thing to do was wait.

Seconds gradually turned to minutes, at least that’s what Joost felt. The more he had to wait, the more he was desperate. It felt like the universe was doing that on purpose to test him. It was killing him. He couldn’t wait to see his lover. His beauty. His woman. His everything.

When the time finally hit, Joost practically dashed out his hotel room and jogged towards the elevator. Him and his crew he took got taxis and they were finally on their way to the stadium. The drive was filled with laughter, smiles, and conversations. Joost knew how to light up a room, so him preparing to do one of the best things ever made everything 10 times better. Even the driver was joining in on the good time.

Joost finally made it to the stadium. His heart realized what was about to happen and started beating faster. There was a lot of fans and reporters there that he had to ignore. Joost always loved to talk to his fans but, at that very moment he couldn’t blow his cover. He needed this to be a surprise.

The backstage crew immediately went into action when Joost stepped foot in the stadium backstage. They did everything in their power to hide Joost and distract (Y/N). Joost would watch his girl from a far and fall in love even more. Her beauty always made him fall to his knees.

It was finally time for (Y/N) to perform. She went on stage with her backup dancers and got into position. They covered (Y/N)’s frame with giant white feathers, like if she was an elegant swan. She was able to hear her adoring fans and got butterflies in her stomach. She heard her fans already cheering even though they couldn’t see anything on stage due to it being pitch black. She loved every moment of it all. It was finally time to wrap this all up.

She heard the introduction music and narrator speak. She turned to her back up dancers and smiled, “You guys ready?” she asked. They all nodded and asked if she was ready, not knowing that question had a double meaning. She said yes with a big smile on her face.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present the one and only, the elegant, the heart stealer. Everyone here, please welcome, (Y/N)!”

The dancers pulled back the feathers, revealing (Y/N) and everyone cheered. She was finally performing. Meanwhile, Joost was backstage watching the beautiful performance. He got the little box ready and was preparing himself. He watched as (Y/N) sang, danced, performed with her life. He always loved that about her, she always knew how to put up a performance.

Joost saw the fans go wild and it was just the very first song. They all sang along like it was karaoke and dances to the beats. He watched his favorite girl with heart eyes and before he knew it, the song was about to come to an end. It was finally time to do what he always wanted to do. He told the crew to signal the DJ to prepare to lower the music.

As (Y/N) was about to finish her song, the music lowered and cut off all together. She thought it was a mistake so she improvised and continued singing the song. She didn’t want to disappoint her fans. That was until she heard her fans scream even louder. She got confused and was wondering why everyone was going crazy until she saw some fans in the crowd point behind her.

(Y/N) turned around and saw her man, on one knee with a box containing a beautiful gold ring with a gorgeous diamond showing. (Y/N) couldn’t believe her eyes. She covered her mouth in shock and started tearing up. It took her a couple of seconds before she said yes. She watched as Joost put the ring on her finger with a huge smile on his face. Joost got up and hug her tight.

In that moment, it’s like everything and everyone disappeared. All that mattered was Joost and his lover. “I can’t believe you did all of that, and for me?!” she said to him.

“Of course I did it all for you, my love. You’re the only woman I love and you are my everything,” he replied. Joost gave (Y/N) a kiss on her lips and pulled away to look at her, “I'm going to stay on stage with you and watch because you look like a goddess when you’re performing.”

Joost took the microphone from (Y/N) and turned to the audience, “Brasil! Prepare for this woman to have a new last name! (Y/N) Klein!” The audience erupted in massive roar-like cheers. The soon-to-be newlyweds gave each other one last kiss before a new song played, signaling (Y/N) to continue the show.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

Hey peoples i hope you liked this im so in love with this man </3 i like writing to muscian readers cuz then I can add what artist I wanna be like (ariana grande, kali uchis, lana del rey, etc etc)