#nothing in the world i want more in this moment than to be in a dunnes stores

[mv1simp]

Vegas, Baby (I Wanna Ride) ♥️

Max Verstappen x Friend!Reader

welcome to vegas baby, give me money, give me diamonds, give me rubies baby (get on your knees and beg me please to let you in me)

Tonight's a big night for the Redbull team in Las Vegas. Max Verstappen just won his 4th WDC, and you, his good friend, just won your first F2 race. After months of rising sexual tension, the line between you and Max starts blurring during a wild Vegas afterparty. Nothing beats crowning a 4th championship than passionate celebration sex, right?

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom! Max, sub! Reader who’s playing mind games to seduce him, size kink, praise kink, cream pie, morally dubious relationship status but no cheating, drunk passionate sex with max post WDC is literally the epitome of my dreams

Max! The blonde Dutchman’s concentration shifts from one of the many post Las Vegas Grand Prix interviews he’s been coerced into to hear your familiar voice excitedly calling for him. His cute smile turns into an even more gorgeous grin as he spots you making a beeline across the media pen, long curls flying behind you. The cameras rapidly start stuttering as you practically leap into Max’s arms when he tightly hugs you back, lifting you up off the ground easily. Congratulations, Maxie! you gush excitedly, beaming up at him with genuine emotion. I’m so happy for you, you deserve this win so much!

Pink dusts the cheeks of the now 4 time world champion from your attention as he looks down at your shorter frame, his muscular arms snugly around your waist. You couldn’t care less about the sticky champagne drenching his suit, because your own RB suit is wet from your celebration of winning the F2 race earlier that day. You too, schatje, Max returns warmly, the paparazzi completely ignored. Winning your first race, in Las Vegas too, from P11? I’m so proud of you! Now you're blushing as he tousles your hair affectionately. You two are just good friends, of course, and Max is in a relationship with a model - even though it's a rather turbulent one. But the F1 gossip mill is always running rampant with rumours about your relationship with Max - especially with the overfamiliar touches you're both now leaving with lingering hands on each other.

The interviewers flock at the chance to interview the F1 and F2 champions together, who provide them with entertaining answers fueled by the 3rd G&T that Max has already started drinking from his Redbull bottle. You smirk and raise your own bottle to cheers against his, making Max’s icy blue eyes twinkle with amusement as he realises you’re very much on the same wavelength of starting celebrations early. Great minds think alike, right Maxie? you wink conspiratorially, making him laugh. The media reps are basically forgotten as the pair of you end up in your own conversation of excited yapping about adrenaline fueled moments from your races, littered with inside jokes lost to the viewers.

When his PR manager calls Max's name, trying to prevent anymore dubious scandals, the blonde looks apologetically towards you, promising that the two of you would have to celebrate properly tonight, okay? You nod eagerly as you watch him go for the rest of his media duties, your smile so wide that your cheeks almost hurt. You’re still buzzing with adrenaline of your own win, and know that your own manager won’t be happy with the pictures of you practically climbing Max to hug him, not an inch of space between you as he pulls you against him. After all, the tabloids love to speculate that there’s something more between the Redbull 3 time - now 4! - world champion and you, the rising talent in F2 with your Redbull Academy seat, and one of the very few women on the grid.

That’s how you and Max had met - on the Redbull practice circuit, the two of you the only ones wanting to practise in horrific conditions of rain and hail. He’d been curious to see another car with the familiar Bull logo out on the track, and then found himself even more curious when the helmet came off to reveal your cutely flushed face and pretty curls that fell down your back. You became fast friends, after you got along your initial awe of 3x WDC Max Verstappen casually giving you driving pointers. He was actually an incredibly humble and loyal friend, and you appreciated how much time he'd spent out of his busy schedule to help you. Meanwhile, Max found your conversation and humour so refreshing compared to other junior drivers who would suck up to him, and you were never afraid to give Max a piece of your mind with your fiery, passionate personality - similar to his. For the first time in months since he'd started dating his demanding girlfriend, who always told Max off for being too loud or making immature jokes, Max found himself genuinely relaxing and speaking freely.

So with all the time on the practise track, and then off the track when you moved to Monaco and began attending the same parties, padel games and hungover brunches with Max, it was no surprise the two of you had become good friends - with a lot of speculation from the public. Many of his fans and friends disliked his current relationship with the pretty model who constantly used Max's name for her own clout with little interest in his passion for racing and e-sim gaming. In comparison, the easy laughs and witty banter seen frequently between you and Max had many conspiring that you'd be a far better match for the F1 champion. Especially in today's Las Vegas interviews, where the growing electric chemistry was palpable to viewers even through the screen.

Of course, you'd never admit to anyone that you secretly agreed with all the gossip columns. You and Max were perfectly suited for each other - but you would never be able to tell him, especially as you didn't have the slightest idea if Max liked you back or even found you attractive since he was so outgoing and touchy with all his close friends. For the past couple of months you'd been secretly pining for him, eyeing his moody girlfriend jealously as she yanked him from celebrations to go home early. You'd starting catching yourself staring up at the gorgeous blonde with heart eyes when he'd patiently explain some new racing tactic to you. No guy could come close to Max in your mind, and you're becoming increasingly sexually frustrated as the object of your desires stayed out of your reach but you aren't hook up with anyone else. So much so that in the week before Las Vegas, you'd started having some very dirty dreams involving a tall, muscular, blonde ending training early and bending you over the hood of his car as he whispered accented Dutch in your ear. Gonna let me fuck you now, baby? You'll take all of my cock, just like I taught you, right?

You knew it was so, so wrong to secretly lust after your friend and teammate like this - especially since he was taken. But tonight, with the thrill of winning your first ever F2 race in frickin' Vegas of all places, at the same time as Max taking his 4th WDC...Well, let's just say you were feeling especially wild tonight. Taking another shot of gin as you got ready in your spacious hotel bathroom, you admire the sight of yourself in the mirror. You're lot more dressed up than usual, out of your racing suit for once . Smokey eyeshadow compliments your wide, doe eyes and long hair you’d blown out in loose curls, all to show off the main view of a tight, sparkly red minidress that pushed up your tits perfectly. You certainly looked the part of a winner out on a hunt for the best way to celebrate tonight, and your best friend agreed as she whistled when walking into the bathroom. Girl, goddamn, that dress looks insanely sexy on you! she gushed, making you shoot her a pleased smile. Trying to catch a certain someone’s attention tonight? she added with a teasing look. Don’t worry, Max won’t be able to keep his eyes off you!

You let out an embarrassed yelp and tell her to shut up, you were not into him like that! Used to your denials, your friend rolls her eyes fondly and tells you you’d been practically moaning his name when you’d been napping earlier, you little slut! She puts you out of your misery when your face goes as red as your dress by adding in that she’d heard his girlfriend wasn’t here tonight to celebrate - apparently, she was pissed he hadn’t flown her out on his private jet and he’d decided to take a break. Winking, she tells you that Max is all yours tonight! You shoo her away but your heart’s nervously skipping a beat with the news. Slipping on your impressive six inch stilettos with glittery straps circling around your legs, you make your way to the after party downstairs.

The bass is thumping, drinks easily flowing and the crowded hotel nightclub buzzing with energy tonight where many of the racing drivers and fans have come to celebrate tonight. You’d meant to go find Max when you got there, but are pulled into excited hugs by lots of your own friends and team members to congratulate you. Soon enough, a few hours have passed and you’re very pleasantly tipsy, giggling and twirling around on the dance floor with your girlfriends and quite a few guys who are running appreciative looks over your pretty figure. But when your wide doe eyes finally meet icy blue across the room, all other men are forgotten and you're making your way over in a heartbeat.

Schatje, Max greets you easily, interrupting the conversations people crowding around him were trying to start. You give him an adoring smile as you wrap your arms around those ridiculously wide shoulders of his when he pulls you into him. The alcohol you’ve both been drinking lowers your boundaries as you giggle into his ears you’ve been looking everywhere for him! He chuckles, telling you that he’d been right here, but you’d been too popular with everyone else tonight. Too busy for me now that you’re a F2 winner? he teases. You playfully push his broad chest, admiring how toned his muscles are under your freshly manicured palm. Maybe, you tease back. I only enjoy the company of drivers who are five time world champions, at least. Seen Lewis anywhere?

Max’s gorgeous blue eyes crinkle in amusement as he tips his head back to laugh, and you're staring up his thick neck, enjoying the sight of his angular jaw and plush lips with a cute freckle you wanted so desperately to kiss. Reminding yourself not to get too carried away until you had some idea how Max felt, you tugged at his biceps to indicate you wanted him to follow you. He easily took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together as you pull him towards the second floor. This was a pretty frequent for you two, breaking off from a crowded party to yap and gossip about some drama or catch up without all eyes on you. Just as you reach the stairs, one of your team’s engineers calls out to you, giving you a tight embrace that lasts a few seconds too long to be a friendly congratulations. You don’t really notice though, too relaxed and happy, and gush your thank you’s to him as he compliments how well you drove today. He’s pretty cute, and you’re starting to get carried away in the conversation until a warm, large palm curls possessively around your curvy hips. A shiver runs up your spine as Max’s deep voice drawls out behind you that he was bored, can you two go upstairs now?

You immediately turn your focus back onto the attractive blonde, assuring him Of course, Maxie! Your arm wraps around his bicep to steady yourself as you two walk upstairs, your high heels clicking against the marble floor. Your abruptly forgotten engineer receives a rather smug smirk from Max. When you’re finally alone in a tiny powder room, small enough that you have to stand close together with the locked door but well lit by an illuminated mirror atop the counter, Max can’t resist a snarky that engineer seemed very into you.

You dismiss Max’s claims, telling him to stop joking around as you leaned into the mirror to repply your lip gloss. No, he was definitely checking you out, Max responds behind you. His already deep accent you’d always had a thing for turns even huskier. Can’t blame him though…you look fucking incredible tonight.

Desire curls in your gut as you gasp at his unexpected compliment, glancing to see Max’s blue eyes locked onto you through the mirror. The Dutchman’s gaze is sharp despite the tipsy flush on his cheeks as it wanders up your lush thighs, accentuated by your stilettos, over your juicy ass and hips before coming to meet your pretty eyes. There’s no denying the hungry expression he wears, especially as you slowly finish applying your lip gloss, drawing his attention to your tempting pink lips. He looks like a lion starving to sink his fangs into his next meal.

You swallow, suddenly feeling a little shy as you avoid his gaze, even though you'd dolled up tonight just for him. You should be saying something like that to your girlfriend, you say suddenly. Where is she, anyways? Max rolls his eyes at the reminder, unamused with the change of topic. Fuck knows, he says exasperatedly. I don’t care anymore, we’re taking a break. You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow as you coyly ask Just a break? What, she’s trying to find a billionaire because a F1 millionaire just isn’t cutting it?

Max chuckles at your not so subtle dig, knowing how you felt about his rather superficial girlfriend. But instead of letting it go, tonight you decide to continue and ask him why he was still with her? He shrugs, telling you it was just easier at this point to stay with her instead of the drama of a messy breakup, and dating hot but 2D models was what everyone expected of F1 drivers anyway.

You narrow your eyes, a little annoyed now, and step closer to Max to announce that’s stupid, since when did he do what others expect of him instead of what he wanted? Besides, he deserved a girlfriend who actually cared for him as a person, who celebrated each of his wins and losses, and on a night like tonight - well, he should be getting whatever he wanted from her, you added playfully. You’ve ended up so close that Max can feel the warmth of your soft tits pressed up against his chest, the heels you’re wearing helping your height. He can't resist admiring at the way your cleavage bounces every time you passionately speak.

Whatever I want, huh? Max murmurs lowly, his blue eyes dark with desire as he suddenly leans down, making your eyes widen and thick lashes flutter. His thumb softly brushes across your cheeks to press against your lower lip, parting your mouth slightly. He’s silent for a moment, choosing his next words carefully, and then - What if all I want is you?

You gasp, both with excitement and shock at the realisation that Max returned your feelings. A coy smile appears on your lips as you press your hands to his firm chest, leaning up to whisper into his ear that he was lucky, then, because you'd been looking for a way to congratulate him properly.

He grins wickedly as you return his hungry look, your normally sparkling eyes now sultry with desire. Oh yeah? he says lowly, large palms skimming your waist. And what were you thinking would be the proper way to say congratulations?

There’s no going back to friendship after this, the blurred line well and truly vanishing. Thank god, because you couldn’t take the sexual frustration any longer. You’d heard that the sex after winning in Vegas is really good…and since he’d ended up winning the championship, he deserved to fuck you long and hard, right?

Max’s breath hitches at your offer, his already semi erect cock hardening. Fuck, schatje, he breathes, his lips so close to yours they’re almost touching. That mouth of yours…I didn’t know it could be so dirty. Makes me want to ruin it. You smile with faux innocence, batting your lashes up at him. Why don’t you, Max? Ruin me, then.

That’s all it takes for his lips to lock into yours, a gentle first kiss between friends quickly turning into a sloppy, heated make out that has you drooling against him. Been wanting to do this forever, Max groans in between deep kisses. You giggle, asking him what his girlfriend would think of that. Who? Max says, looking genuinely confused as he leans in again to slide his tongue in to explore your mouth. Oh, the ex? You laugh into the kiss, knowing any other woman would be out of the picture by the time you’ve shown Max just how he deserved to be treated tonight.

Suddenly you’re being lifted up easily to sit on the marble counter, squealing at his impressive strength. He greedily presses against you, your lush thighs parting easily around his narrow waist. It’s a good thing the club’s bass is so loud, otherwise any passerbys would hear the wet, sensual moans of you passionately making out. Max’s bear paws of hands squeeze your thighs and plump ass firmly, making your minidress ride up so he could feel your dampening panties as you start grinding against his impressive bulge through his jeans. Fuck, schatje, you’re already this wet? Max breathes, blue eyes blown with desire when he pulls back for a second as you both pant. Only for you, Maxie you say adoringly, running manicured hands along his broad shoulders and into his soft, blonde locks. Whatever you want tonight, remember? So tell me, what would the world champion like next?

Max inhales sharply at your obedient words, at how you’re looking up at his darkened blue eyes with so much devotion. It fills him with an inexplicable need to have you all to himself, not just tonight but every night from now. You decide to give him a gentle nudge, guiding his large palms to cup your full breasts through your dress. You keep looking at my chest, Maxie. Do you want to see what’s underneath my dress? Max’s jaw drops open as you help his fingers tug down your neckline, letting it fall to your waist and leaving you half dressed in a lacy navy blue bra.

My favourite colour, Max says absentmindedly, too distracted with the heavenly vision in front of him. When you giggle and tell him you know, that’s why you wore it! he groans lowly, yanking the lace down so your full breasts lay exposed to his hungry gaze. So fucking pretty, he breathes, you look so good in my colours, schatje.

You can’t respond because you’re moaning again from his thick fingers squeezing your bouncing tits, circling your sensitive, hard nipples before latching his mouth over your areolas. Oh, Maxie! Mmm, feels so good! He hums with your tits inside his talented mouth, enjoying your sweet moans in his ears as he leaves a trail of hickeys over your chest and neck. You’re getting wetter by the second, and judging from the large, hard bulge you’re desperately humping, you’re certain Max is just as turned on as you are. But tonight’s about congratulating him, and you can’t get too distracted, tugging at the white t-shirt he’s wearing. Your turn!

Max smirks, and yanks his shirt off in half a second. Now you’re temporarily short circuiting at his broad pecs, ogling his thick upper arms and shoulders that taper down to his slim hips. You can’t resist tracing a path down his defined abs with your manicured fingers, making Max tease you with like what you see, schatje?

You shut him up as your hand comes to rest just above his belt buckle, brushing his blonde happy trail but going no further. Hmm, I’ve seen better, you tease back coyly. His jaw hardens as you come tantalisingly close to where he really wants to feel you. When he wraps his hand around yours to stop your games, you surprise him again when you bring your joined hands up to your lips. Curiosity piqued, he watched you intently as you press the pad of his pointer finger onto your swollen lips like he’d done earlier…and then part your lips to slide him inside till the knuckle. Oh, fucking hell, Max hisses lowly.

You don’t miss a beat, staring right into his eyes sultrily as you swirl your tongue around his thick finger, letting him imagine what else your drooling, wet mouth could do. He swallows when you release him with a pop, only to oh so innocently bat your lashes at him to say did he have anything bigger for you to lick?

Max has a hand tangled in your curls instantly, pushing your all too willing body down onto your knees as he swears, saying if he’d known you were going to be such a good girl for him he’d have fucked you months ago. You whine desperately, making him completely entranced as you press soft kisses to his clothed erection. He unbuckles himself for you, the small room silent except for the clinking of metal making both of you impatient. You gasp when his generously sized cock emerges from his Calvin Klein boxers, his pink tip resting right in front of you. He almost cums right there when you look up at him with those wide doe eyes, the very picture of innocence but your filthy words anything but. It-it’s so big, Maxie. Even larger than what I’d dreamed about.

And then you’re messily kissing up and down his engorged shaft, smearing your lipgloss all over as you pant and drool over his length. Oh my fucking god, Max groans, head slamming into the door behind him. That mouth of yours, baby- Jesus fucking Christ.

He’s rendereded speechless when you begin suckling on his hypersensitive tip, circling it with full concentration just like you’d done with his finger. You don’t break eye contact, pulling back slightly to pump his base with two hands and blow air over his angry, swollen cockhead. Tastes so good, Maxie. ‘M gonna worship your cock tonight, just like my world champion deserves. Your throat goes completely lax as you take his impressive length all the way to the base, gurgling and drooling messily as you hollow your cheeks to suck firmly.

Fuck! Jesus, schat, baby, I’m gonna - Max is panting heavily, cheeks adorably red and flushed as he tangles his large palms into your curls. Go-gonna fuck that insane mouth of yours now, okay?

You hum in agreement, sending vibrations running down his shaft. He doesn’t waste any time then, dragging your face forward and roughly thrusting himself into your wet, slack mouth. Loud, obscene sounds of the dirty blowjob you’re performing for him are filling the air, and there’s no doubt anyone listening in the hallway would be able to tell exactly what going on behind the door. But the both of you couldn’t care less, too far gone. And if your mindblowing deepthroat hadn’t been enough, you’re whimpering in between thrusts that he’s so big, you bet he could fuck your tits at the same time as your mouth-

He doesn’t even need to process that sexy mental image because you’re now using your free hands to cup your bouncing breasts and wrap them snugly around the base of his cock, his leaking tip still thrusting in and out of your mouth. Like this, see Maxie?

Max roars in approval at the filthy display, the warmth of your soft tits sending him over the edge. Gonna cum now, he pants breathlessly. Open your mouth for me, baby, you’ll swallow it all, right?

You follow his command immediately, desperately saying please, please Maxie, wanna taste you so bad, you can cum wherever you want-

He slaps his heavy cockhead against your chubby cheeks first, and then onto your pink tongue as you poke it out, collecting drops of precum from his angry red tip. He’s meanly chuckling as you go cross eyed from his cock whacking your face, squealing with excitement. Guess the only thing that shuts you up is my cock in your mouth.

You nod eagerly, panting with your lips wide open expectantly as you stare up at him, your pretty makeup completely destroyed from the messy blowjob. The sight of you so desperate for him is what tips him over, and with a silent moan he jerks himself off to flood your mouth with a generous, creamy load. So much that you struggle to swallow it, some of it leaking out the corners of your lips to drip onto your heaving tits. But you take most of it just like you promised him, licking your lips rather sluttily before opening your mouth to show him. See, Maxie? Drank it all for you.

He yanks you up off the floor, pressing your soft jiggling chest up against his hard pecs as he rewards you with a deep kiss. Did fucking amazing, sweetheart, he sighs into you. That was definitely the best head I’ve ever gotten. You flush from his compliment, sultry eyes turning shy now from his praise. But the Dutch Lion’s appetite isn’t satiated tonight. He pulls your dress back up, wiping away your smeared gloss and smudged mascara before redressing himself. But we aren’t finished just yet, schatje, he croons as he gently untangles your curls from your dangly earrings. You bite your lip, hanging onto his each word as he says After all, you’d won in Vegas too. He’ll have to show you how good the sex is, now.

Desire darkens your bright, dazed eyes at the thought of Max finally fucking you. You bury your face in his thick neck, wrapping your arms around him as you plead for him to please take you upstairs, you needed him so bad, you couldn’t take it anymore.

He chuckles at your cute begging, discreetly leading you down the hallway that’s thankfully empty while keeping you firmly pressed to his chest. As much as he’d wiped away the streaks of mascara, any of your friends would only have to take one look to know what you’d been upto. The ride up the discreet service elevator is another test of self restraint, the camera in the corner stopping the both of you from outright debauchery. But you can’t stop weakly grinding against Max’s muscular thigh that separates your plush legs, clinging onto him as he whispers dirty things in your ear with that Dutch voice you loved. Tell me what kind of naughty dreams you’ve been having about me, he demands. And of course, you oblige, turning his ears pink and voice huskier when he finds out just what you’d been secretly pining for.

He lifts you up, your legs straddling his waist easily when you finally reach your floor, an carried you down the hallway. After you’re clumsily swiping your room card with Max’s very distracting lips leaving kisses to your throat, you find yourself inside your dark hotel room at last. The Vegas city lights stream in from the floor to ceiling windows, illuminating Max’s handsome form as he looks down to drink in the pretty sight of you. Fucking finally, Max groans, ripping his shirt and pants off in one go and kicking his shoes to the side. He wraps an arm around your waist to pick you up again and gently toss you onto the king sized bed, making you giggle excitedly as you land with a bounce. And then he’s on top of you, eyes dark and a cocky smirk on his face as he presses his warm length against your soaked panties. See what you’ve done to me, schatje? I’m already hard again. Completely ruined me for anyone else with this perfect body. He finishes his sentence with a slow roll of his hips, making you moan breathily at the contact, with your panties so wet they’re practically stuck to you and you can feel all of him.

He unzips you out of your dress, leaving heated kisses all over your body as he admires the sight of your navy lingerie set, telling you he’d buy you ten more so you could wear them for him after every race when he fucked you. You keen at his attention, at the thought that Max wants you again and again, eyes teary as you start to try and grind your hips against him. You’ll have to be patient, schatje Max says in an amused tone, sounding much more in control than the moaning, dripping mess he’s turned you into. You teased me so much after all, it’s only fair that it’s my turn now, right? He kisses your ankles softly as he unties your strappy heels, letting them fall to the floor. And then, with a strong hand on each of your delicate ankles, he hungrily takes in the sight of your dripping pussy. Your tummy flutters almost nervously in anticipation of what’s coming.

Turns out Max, just like you, always held true to his promises. You’d had to be very patient as he had his turn of teasing you mercilessly, making you cum all over his thick fingers that stretched you out and skilled tongue that found your sensitive clit almost immediately. And when he’s finally ripping the condom packet open and slapping your core with his heavy cock, you’re practically crying.Your aching pussy finally gets what she needs when you’re stuffed impossibly full as he slides in to the hilt.

The sight of you completely ruined underneath him, tits bouncing with each powerful thrust he delivers, your nails burying into his strong arms to steady yourself, unlocks a carnal desire in Max. Whatever I want, right schatje? He hums, bending down so your sweaty foreheads touch, and you nod quickly through your deep pants. Even if I wanted to fuck you raw? You’ll let me cum inside your tight little pussy, hmm?

He knows he has you right where he wants as you squeeze down on him instinctively when you imagine him inside you with no protection. Ohmygod Maxie, yes, please, fuck your cum into me, please! The Dutchman’s outright filthy request has your head spinning with desire and you’re babbling half incoherently. Pulling out momentarily and making you whine, he yanks the condom off before sinking back into your creamy hole. You both moan in pure ecstasy at the euphoric feeling of skin to skin sex.

Max fucks you in multiple positions that night, passionately into the soft mattress, meanly up against the cold window, and roughly on the plush sofa chaise with your face buried in the cushions and your red asscheeks up in the air for him to slap. Next time I win you’ll let me fuck you here, too, okay baby? he demands as he fingers your winking back hole while still thrusting into your dripping cunny. You can only let out a high pitched whine, jiggling your hips back onto his cock in approval, too fucked out to respond with words at this point. And when he finally cums, his impressive stamina outlasting yours on his second orgasm, he makes sure to sink in deep and flood your heavenly walls with his thick white release. You give him an open mouthed lazy kiss as a silent thank you for the best fuck of your entire life, hoping he got the message.

You’re pretty certain he did, because the next morning you’re awoken by a heavy length pressed up against your ass. You’d both passed out in the (thankfully clean) spare second bed after running through the shower together for five minutes to clean up the sticky mess last night. The 4th championship celebration sex was definitely record breaking , Max murmurs into your ear playfully. But it’s not complete without the slow morning after sex. You’ll let me show you now, right schat?

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A/N: WAR IS OVER THE CHILDREN ARE OUT, BIRDS SINGING CAUSE MAX IS RIGHTFULLY 4 X WDC 😭😭😭 the way all the haters were silenced. Everyone’s trying ride his dick now including skysports I love to see it, as they should

Also guys 10 followers away from 2k?!? Wtaf 😳 I’m so sorry for the delayed post, thank you for being so patient. Work has been really busy this month but going on Xmas break in a couple weeks so will have more time to post!!!! Keep sending me ur saucy asks yall I love reading them <3

[eu-nicola]

not yours part 1

summary: Rafe Cameron is the perfect boyfriend… but not yours, but Sofia’s. However, fate plays against you when you become the only person capable of understanding him in his darkest moments. What begins as a dangerous friendship soon becomes an attraction impossible to deny.

warnings: nothing for now

word counter: 9203

author’s note: english is not my first language

In the eyes of the Kooks, you were always a Pogue. You could have perfectly coiffed hair, impeccable clothes, and an air of confidence that many of them envied, but no matter how hard you tried, you were still one of “the others.” After all, you were born and raised on the other side of the island, where the houses were small, the streets dusty, and the rules of etiquette didn’t exist. 

But that never stopped you. You always wanted more, you wanted to stand out, to shine as if the invisible line that divided the island didn’t exist for you. You liked being the center of attention, being the girl who walked into a party and made everyone turn to look at you. It was part of who you were. It entertained you, it filled you with energy. And maybe, deep down, you enjoyed a little bit of the scandal that a Pogue caused trying to be more than that. 

The first time you met Sofia was at one of those parties that the Kooks organized on the beach. You arrived late, as usual, but perfect. The tight black dress you had chosen highlighted every curve. You made sure every hair was in place and that your makeup highlighted your eyes impeccably.

You saw her alone, sitting in a corner, with a half-finished drink in her hand. She didn't seem comfortable in that place, as if she was out of place. Maybe that was what caught your attention. Unlike other girls, Sofia didn't seem to desperately want to fit in. There was something authentic about her, something that intrigued you.

"What are you doing here alone?" you asked her as you sat down next to her. Your tone was casual, as if you had known her all your life.

Sofia looked up and smiled at you, shy but warm.

"I don't know... I think this isn't my place."

"Well, sometimes, what we think isn't our place ends up being the best place of all," you answered, and without waiting for an invitation, you stayed there.

From that night on, you and Sofia became inseparable. She was quieter, more reserved, but that worked. Your explosive energy was complemented by her calm, and soon you were doing everything together: from afternoons on the beach to nighttime escapades to places where the Kooks didn’t dare to go.

It was inevitable that Sofia began to integrate more into your world. But she also began to enter theirs. Maybe too much.

The first time she told you she was dating Rafe Cameron, you felt like the world stopped for a moment.

“Rafe Cameron?” you repeated in disbelief as you looked in the mirror, touching up your eyeliner.

You were in your room, getting ready for another party. The air smelled of perfume and freshly opened makeup. Sofia was sitting on your bed, nervously playing with the hem of her dress.

“Yeah… I know he’s not exactly the kind of guy you like.”

He wasn’t. He never was. Rafe Cameron was the perfect definition of everything you despised about the Kooks. Arrogant, controlling, with that air of superiority that drove you crazy. And although you didn't say it openly, you knew he looked at you with disdain every time you coincided somewhere. As if you were usurping a space that didn't belong to you.

You took a deep breath, adjusting the necklace that adorned your neck, and decided not to say what you really thought.

“If it makes you happy… then fine.”

Sofia looked at you with a mix of relief and gratitude. You knew how much your opinion mattered to her, and you weren’t going to be the one to take that happiness away from her, even though something inside you told you it wasn’t going to end well.

Later that night the party was at its highest point. Music was booming from the speakers, laughter and conversations mixed with the sound of the sea gently lapping against the shore. The dim lights and strategically placed torches gave an almost magical air to the private beach where the Kooks were celebrating once again. Everything was perfect, at least in appearance.

You were there, as always, impeccable. Every accessory was in its place, every strand of your hair perfectly arranged, and your smile was as dazzling as ever.

But from the moment you walked through the door, Sofia was glued to Rafe Cameron.

He was leaning against one of the makeshift bars, a bottle of beer in his hand and that cocky grin he never seemed to be able to erase. Sofia, beside him, looked different. More radiant, perhaps, but also more… restrained. As if he somehow controlled her every move.

It bothered you. You couldn’t help it. You had arrived expecting to spend the night together, like you used to before Rafe came into the equation. But there she was, practically glued to him, laughing at his comments, looking at him as if the rest of the party didn’t exist.

You sipped a glass of white wine and forced yourself to smile when a couple of acquaintances came over to say hello. You chatted, laughed, and pretended you didn’t care. Because at the end of the day, you understood. He was her boyfriend. If you had one, you’d probably do the same. If you had a Rafe Cameron who looked at you like you were the only important thing in the world, you wouldn’t leave him alone either.

Still, you couldn’t help the pang of discomfort that settled in your chest every time you saw them together. It was like Sofia was slowly disappearing into Rafe’s shadow.

Someone offered you a drink, and you accepted with a flirtatious smile, because that was what you did. You always knew how to have fun, how to attract glances, how to make sure no one noticed that something was bothering you.

But as the night progressed, you realized that your eyes kept returning to them. To Rafe, who had his arm around her as if to make it clear that she belonged to him. To Sofia, who didn’t seem to notice anyone else.

“Are you going to stay there all night, or are you going to dance?” a boy’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned around and recognized him by sight. A Kook, of course, one of those who always tried to get close to you when you were alone.

You smiled at him, playful.

“What if I tell you that I prefer to stay here?”

He laughed, but insisted.

“Come on, I promise you'll have fun.”

You hesitated for a second, your eyes looking back at Sofia. She was still glued to Rafe, oblivious to everything else.

“Okay” you finally agreed, putting your drink aside. “Let's see if it's true.”

You went out onto the dance floor and let yourself go. Because if there was one thing you knew how to do, it was enjoy the moment, at least in appearance. You danced, you laughed, you let the music envelop you. But every time you turned, every time you moved to the rhythm of the music, you could feel Rafe's gaze on you. It was a strange, uncomfortable feeling.

For an instant, your eyes met his. His gaze was intense, cold, as if he were evaluating you. It wasn't the first time he did it. He always seemed to observe you that way, as if he wanted to remind you that you didn't belong in his world, that you were nothing more than an intruder.

But you didn't give him the pleasure of looking away. You held his gaze, defiant, with a smile on your lips, as if you didn't care in the least what he thought. Because at the end of the day, if you had learned anything, it was not to show weakness.

The music continued, the lights continued to flicker, and the night continued.

When the music began to slow down and tiredness settled in your body, you decided that it was enough for that night. You had danced, drank, and smiled enough to keep up appearances. You looked once more to where Sofia and Rafe were, still together, as if the rest of the party didn't exist.

You sighed, resigned. It wasn't your place to interrupt that moment. You knew that if you came closer, Sofia would want you to stay, but honestly, you had no energy left to keep pretending that everything was fine.

"See you tomorrow," you murmured to a couple of acquaintances as you left. No one stopped you, because they knew that when you decided to leave, there was nothing that would make you change your mind.

You took the path to your house, enjoying the fresh air that calmed the heat accumulated on your skin. The silence of the night welcomed you with open arms, and it didn't take long for you to slip under the sheets, leaving behind the noise, the lights, and the discomfort that had followed you throughout the evening.

The next morning, your phone rang earlier than expected. Sofia.

"Good morning," you said hoarsely, still half asleep.

"Good morning," she answered, with an energy that made you frown. "Are you awake?"

“Now yes. What's up?”

“I'm at Rafe's house. I thought you could come. There's a pool, some food... We could spend the day here.”

You bit your lower lip, hesitating for a second. The idea of ​​spending the day at Rafe's house wasn't exactly your ideal plan. The Cameron house had always seemed more like a display of power than a home. Every corner was designed to impress, to make it clear that they were the pinnacle of the Kooks. And although you knew how to move in that environment, it wasn't your favorite place.

“Sure, give me some time to get ready and I'll go.”

“Perfect. I'll wait for you.”

You hung up the phone and stood up slowly, stretching your arms over your head as you thought about what to wear.

You opted for a long, light white dress, which highlighted your tan and fell perfectly. You chose a white bikini as well, simple but elegant. You made sure your hair was styled to perfection, letting some soft waves fall to frame your face.

A touch of natural makeup, just enough to highlight your eyes and lips, but not over the top. You chose a small bag, where you kept the essentials: sunscreen, sunglasses, and your phone.

You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror, adjusting the dress and the necklace that discreetly glistened on your collarbone.

You grabbed your keys, placed your sunglasses on your head, and left the house.

When you arrived, Sofia ran out to greet you before you could knock on the door, her radiant smile lighting up her face.

“You’re here!” she said excitedly, extending her arms towards you.

“Of course I do!” you replied with an equally wide smile as you walked over to hug her.

The hug was warm and genuine. Sofia had always had that energy that made you feel welcome, like everything else disappeared when you were together. She pulled away slightly to look at you.

“You look amazing.”

“You do too,” you said sincerely, noticing how her face glowed despite the simplicity of her outfit. “You always look good when you’re happy, though.”

Sofia blushed a little and laughed softly. You knew exactly why she was so happy. You didn’t have to be an expert at reading gestures to figure it out: Rafe.

“Come on, we’re in the back,” she said, taking you by the arm and leading you to the pool.

They walked through the house until they reached the spacious backyard. The pool sparkled in the sun, surrounded by lounge chairs, umbrellas, and luxurious furniture. Everything was perfectly arranged, as if they had taken the scene from a magazine.

And there he was.

He was sitting by the pool, a beer in his hand, sunglasses covering his eyes. He looked carefree, like the whole world revolved around him. His hair perfectly combed, body relaxed but always in control.

Your eyes met his for a brief second as you crossed the garden. His gaze was cold, distant, as always.

“Hi, Rafe,” you said in a polite tone, keeping the smile light.

He barely raised his hand in a vague greeting, not even bothering to take off his glasses.

“Hey.”

Nothing more. A short, dry greeting, as if you were there out of mere courtesy. Then, he turned his attention back to the conversation he was having with one of his friends, as if your presence was insignificant.

You expected it. Rafe had never treated you with more than minimal courtesy, and that was when he felt like it.

You took a deep breath and turned to Sofia, who didn’t seem to notice her boyfriend’s coldness.

“Come on, I’ll show you where to put your stuff,” Sofia said excitedly, leading you to one of the lounge chairs. 

After you put all your stuff down, Sofia spoke to you again. 

“Come on, let’s go to the pool,” Sofia said, pulling you by the hand. “It’s hot, and the water is perfect.”

You nodded and took off your white dress, revealing the bikini you had chosen so carefully. 

The afternoon passed more peacefully than you had anticipated. The sun bathed the pool in a golden glow, and the soft music coming from the strategically placed speakers made everything seem like something out of a postcard. You and Sofia spent hours laughing, swimming, and enjoying the cold drinks you had brought. At times, the awkwardness that had accompanied you upon arrival seemed to fade away. 

Rafe and his friends were nearby, but they kept their distance, busy in their own bubble of conversations. 

At some point, Sofia stood up. 

“I’m going inside to get something to eat.” Do you want me to get you something?

“No, I’m fine,” you replied with a smile. You didn’t want to move. The sun, the water, and the atmosphere had relaxed you more than you expected. Sofia gave you a quick smile before disappearing through the sliding door into the house.

You were left alone, enjoying the moment. The cold glass in your hand, the soft murmur of the water in the pool, and the warmth of the sun on your skin. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the tranquility envelop you.

However, that calm was interrupted when you felt a slight tug on your hair. You frowned, opening your eyes. You had leaned against one of the umbrellas, and without realizing it, one of the fringes at the edge of the fabric had become entangled in your hair. You pulled gently, trying to free it, but it didn’t work. The lock of hair was still firmly caught.

You sighed, frustrated. Normally, Sofia would be there to help you in a second, but now she wasn't. You tried once more, this time with a little more force, but you only managed to get it more tangled.

"Perfect..." you murmured sarcastically, resigned to waiting for Sofia to return.

"Trouble?"

The male voice, low and slightly amused, startled you. Rafe.

He was a few steps away from you, with his hands in his pockets and that expression on his face that seemed to mix boredom with curiosity. He was watching you with those cold blue eyes that had always made you nervous, as if he was entertained by your little fight with the umbrella.

"Nothing I can't handle," you said quickly, trying to keep control. You didn't want to give him the pleasure of thinking you needed help. You gently tugged on the lock of hair again, but it still wouldn't come loose.

"Yeah, sure. You're handling it perfectly," he replied in a sarcastic tone, as he moved a little closer.

You looked at him, trying to keep your composure.

“Sofia will be here in a minute, don’t worry.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, stopping right in front of you. The proximity made your skin crawl slightly.

“Or I can help you.”

For a moment, you were tempted to turn him down again. The idea of ​​accepting Rafe Cameron’s help was… strange. He wasn’t exactly the kind of person to selflessly offer help. But the reality was that Sofia would probably take a little longer, and you didn’t want to be stuck there anymore, humiliating yourself in front of him.

You sighed, reluctantly giving in.

“Okay… but don’t make it worse.”

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

That’s exactly what worries me, you thought. But you didn’t say anything.

Rafe moved behind you, and you felt his hands move closer to your hair. His fingers were surprisingly deft and precise, touching just enough to untangle the trapped lock of hair. You were surprised by how gently he worked, without tugging or causing pain. His closeness was undeniable, and for an instant, you were aware of the warmth of his body, the faint scent of mint, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Almost…” he murmured as his fingers slid through the last knot. Finally, the lock of hair came free.

You pulled away slightly, turning to face him.

“Thank you.”

He simply nodded, wearing that neutral expression he always seemed to carry with him. Before he could say anything else, you pointed towards one of the lounge chairs.

“Can you pass me the brooch I left there?”

Rafe calmly walked over to the lounge chair, picked up the small white brooch, and handed it to you. There were no snide comments or haughty looks this time. It was strange.

“Thanks again,” you said as you pinned your hair back, trying to ignore the slight nervousness the interaction had left you with.

“You’re welcome.”

And that was it. No more words, no lingering stares. Rafe returned to his spot by the pool, as if nothing had happened. You stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. There was something about his expression that didn’t fit with the image you had of him.

But you decided not to think about it too much.

Then the night came faster than you had expected. The party at the Camerons’ continued, but the atmosphere was much more relaxed. The pool lights created a soft glow over the water, reflecting the stars that were beginning to peek out in the night sky. You and Sofia retreated from the hustle and bustle of the party, looking for a respite.

“That was great, wasn’t it?” Sofia said, her voice filled with an energy that couldn’t be hidden.

You nodded as you walked over to one of the chairs near the pool, sitting down to enjoy the cool night air.

“Yeah, it was fun. Although, you know, always a little awkward with… some of the Kooks,” you replied, glancing sideways at Rafe, who was still talking to his friends in the distance.

Sofia laughed softly, as if those social tensions didn’t affect her as much as they did you. For her, being with Rafe was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re staying, right?” Sofia asked, with an eager look, as if she needed to hear the affirmative answer.

You didn’t know what Sofia had in mind for the next day, but her excitement was contagious. You looked at Rafe from a distance, and although you didn’t say it out loud, you knew that if Sofia asked you for something, you would do it.

“Sure, why not?” “I want you to come with us tomorrow,” you replied, though a small spark of doubt lit up inside you. What exactly were they going to do the next day?

“Perfect,” Sofia said with a satisfied smile, as if she had achieved what she wanted. She then leaned slightly towards you, lowering her voice. “I want you to come with us tomorrow. Rafe is going to go racing on his motorcycle. He said he has no problem with you staying the night, if that’s okay with you. Would you like to join us tomorrow?”

You sat there thoughtfully for a moment. The idea of ​​spending another day with Rafe, back in his world of privilege, seemed strange to you. But it was also hard for you to say no to Sofia, especially when you saw how excited she was.

“Okay. What does it matter?” you replied, resigned to the idea of ​​spending the day with them.

The next morning came quickly, and the sun was already rising high when you woke up. The Cameron house was quiet at that hour, with most people still sleeping after the party the night before. When you checked your bag, you realized you didn't have anything suitable for what Sofia had proposed. The shorts and the t-shirt with the embroidery seemed like a comfortable option, but nothing too dressed up.

Sofia walked into the room you had stayed in, seeing that you were still getting organized.

"Are you ready?" she asked with her usual enthusiasm.

"Almost. I just... don't have anything to wear," you mentioned, looking at the clothes you had brought, a little out of place for a motorcycle ride.

"Don't worry!" Sofia said with a mischievous smile. "I'll lend you something. Those shorts are fine, you just need a comfortable t-shirt, right?"

Before you could answer, Sofia turned around and pulled a white t-shirt out of her closet. It wasn't anything over the top, but the edge of the t-shirt was adorned with small floral embroidery. Which might look plain, but it looked incredibly nice.

"Here, this should fit you well," she said as she handed you the t-shirt.

You looked at her, grateful, as you put it on. The fabric was soft and cool, something you needed for the morning heat. Then, you pulled on your shorts, arranged your hair the best way you could, and looked at yourself in the mirror.

When you left the room, Sofia was already ready, her hair perfectly coiffed and her energy bubbling.

“Let’s go!” she said, running towards the door. There was no way you could cope with her enthusiasm.

The two of you headed to the beach, where Rafe was already there, next to his bike. It was a sight in itself. Rafe’s bike, shiny and almost imposing looking, contrasted with his relaxed stance, as if the bike was an extension of him.

Rafe glanced at you briefly when you arrived, his expression somewhat unreadable.

The race began with a roar, and the feeling of speed on Rafe’s bike was electrifying. The wind whipped through your face as the sound of the engine mixed with the adrenaline in the air. Rafe was incredibly focused, and Sofia was smiling non-stop. 

As you continued down the road, you realized how skilled Rafe was. Every turn was taken with astonishing precision, and his ability to maneuver the bike quickly was evident. You and Sofia shared excited glances, both shouting words of encouragement, though you knew the real show was watching him. 

Finally, when the finish line was in sight, Rafe hit the gas. The bike roared as it took the final turn, and it wasn't long before he crossed the finish line with an undisputed victory. 

You and Sofia burst into cheers, though it was clear that Rafe's victory was what really mattered to her. She looked proud, and with good reason. Rafe had won in impeccable fashion, and the feeling of excitement was palpable.

Sofia stepped forward to hug him, while you stayed a step behind, observing the moment. Rafe's face reflected satisfaction. He didn't seem surprised by the victory, as if it was something expected.

You stared at Rafe for a moment, observing his relaxed face as he talked to Sofia about the race, but you quickly decided to leave those thoughts behind. There was something in his attitude that didn't quite fit, and you knew it wasn't worth wasting time on things that didn't make sense. The excitement of the day had already reached its peak, and you preferred to enjoy the moment.

You turned around, looking at Sofia, who had already begun to plan what they would do next.

"Let's celebrate!" Sofia said enthusiastically, interrupting your brief moment of introspection.

It wasn't an invitation, but an affirmation, and before you could respond, she had already taken you by the hand, gently pulling you towards where the others were. The celebratory atmosphere was in full swing: loud music, laughter, and an air of satisfaction permeating everything around them. When they arrived, everyone was there, enjoying Rafe's triumph, and even though you weren't part of that inner circle, you couldn't help but be swept up in the energy emanating from them. 

You sat next to Sofia on one of the lounge chairs by the pool, watching as people gathered around Rafe to congratulate him. The way he accepted the congratulations, calm and almost distant, seemed so natural to you, as if he was already used to being the center of attention. But something in you told you it wasn't that simple. There was an invisible barrier between you and him, as if the distance wasn't just physical, but emotional as well. 

But that night, you decided to let it be. You sat there, enjoying Sofia's company, and without thinking too much about it, you began to soak in the atmosphere. 

People started moving towards the dance floor, the music was getting livelier, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Sofia, still full of energy, looked at you with a knowing smile.

“Shall we dance?” she asked, without waiting for an answer, already getting up from the lounger.

You stood up after her, feeling that, at least for that night, you should enjoy yourself without thinking too much about anything else. Somehow, by surrounding yourself with the happiness of Sofia and the others, the feeling of awkwardness began to fade.

The day continued with a festive atmosphere, the music vibrating in the air. You and Sofia had completely let loose, laughing and dancing without a care, until suddenly Rafe approached her. On his face was a subtle smile, one of those smiles that you only see when someone has a deep connection with another person.

“Dance?” he said to Sofia, and she was quick to smile, her eyes shining.

You watched them as they glided to the center of the dance floor, their bodies moving to the beat of the music as if they were one. Something inside you, a mix of admiration and envy, stirred. There was something about the way Rafe looked after Sofia that made you think you might have misjudged him. After all, not everyone was willing to show that kind of tenderness in public. Maybe Rafe wasn't as cold as you had initially thought. 

You stared for a moment, but you didn't let yourself get caught up in those emotions. You decided not to think about it too much. Instead of just standing there watching, you let yourself go with the energy of the party and joined one of Rafe's friends who was nearby. He was outgoing and not afraid to chat, so the conversation flowed naturally. 

You laughed, you enjoyed yourself, and everything kept moving forward without your mind stopping on the images of Sofia and Rafe. But when you looked at yourself, you noticed something that worried you: the way that, with each encounter, you began to see more clearly how attentive Rafe and Sofia could be to each other. It wasn’t just a physical attraction, but something deeper, a connection you hadn’t anticipated. There was an understanding between them, something that seemed to flow effortlessly. And that, somehow, bothered you more than you wanted to admit.

Days passed, and as time went on, you started to see yourself closer and closer to them. Outings became common, and although at first you were a kind of guest in their circle, little by little you began to feel like you were part of it. You saw yourself walking along the beach with them, sharing laughs while watching Rafe throw out a sarcastic joke that made you laugh like never before. The atmosphere between the group was relaxed, fun, and you seemed to fit in perfectly. Almost as well as if you were one of the Kooks, as if you had always been part of that life. 

But something kept nagging at your head, a small knot in your stomach that kept growing. You realized that every time Rafe and Sofia looked at each other or subtly touched each other, a pang of jealousy ran through your body. How had you not noticed that before? How had you not seen how happy it made Sofia just to have him by her side? It was like a spark always surrounded them, and you wanted to be a part of that, of that security and affection that was evident on the surface.

You thought to yourself that maybe, just maybe, you had misjudged him. Rafe wasn't just the arrogant boy you had met at the beginning. There was something about his attitude towards Sofia that made you question everything you thought about him. You could see how he cared for her, how he took his time to make sure she was comfortable, how his eyes always looked for her in the middle of the crowd.

One afternoon, when everyone was on a terrace, and Rafe had approached to offer you a drink, you realized how much your perception of him had changed. There was a softness in his gaze, one you hadn't noticed before, and although it was something that confused you, you also admired it. You felt foolish for having kept yourself distant all this time, and a little jealous too, because deep down you knew you wanted something like that for yourself.

However, you just smiled and thanked him for the drink, not saying anything about what you were really thinking. It was easy to look at everything from the outside, but much harder to deal with what you felt on the inside. You were surrounded by friends, but the small discomfort you felt in your chest never completely went away. You wondered if you could ever be as lucky as Sofia, if you would ever find something that made you feel as alive and safe. 

That same day at night, after several hours of laughter, music, and drinks, the atmosphere at Rafe’s house was still lively. Sofia, as always, was in her element, enjoying the company of the two of you, but you already felt the energy starting to drain away. You had drunk more than you thought, and although it wasn’t enough to lose control, you did start to feel fatigue building up in your body. 

“I’m going to sleep,” you said to Sofia, who looked at you with a cheerful smile. 

“Sure, honey. The room is ready for you. Get some rest” he answered, still smiling.

You walked towards the stairs as you entered the halls of the house. It was a large and luxurious space, and the room you used when you stayed there was decorated with sophisticated details.

But before you reached the room, suddenly, you ran into Rafe. He was coming down the stairs, with a glass in his hand, apparently in a good mood, without the arrogant air he used to have. He stopped when he saw you and, as if he hadn't seen you coming, both of you collided a little. It was a strange moment: your body brushed against his, almost as if you were going to trip, but you managed to keep your balance with difficulty. However, what really made you feel uncomfortable was the look you exchanged. The air between the two of you became heavy for a moment, as if something had happened unintentionally.

Rafe, with a knowing smile on his face, was quick to let out a small laugh, as if he found the situation funny, and that only increased your discomfort. Your face instantly flushed, and for a second you thought you had gotten yourself into one of those awkward situations you always try to avoid.

“Wow, I didn’t see you coming,” he said, still with that carefree smile. His tone wasn’t mocking, but somehow his laugh felt like mockery.

Your mind raced and you didn’t know how to react, you just muttered something that didn’t make much sense, like an “I’m sorry” or an “excuse me,” and without thinking much, you rushed to the bedroom. The door closed behind you, and you instantly felt the awkwardness take over you. You lay down on the bed, covering your face with your hands and thinking about how you had handled the situation.

For a moment, you stood there, trying to calm your breathing, but Rafe's laughter still echoed in your head. You knew it hadn't been anything serious, but still, something about his attitude made you feel like you'd made a mistake by being so close to him. Why did it have that effect on you? The thought of being so close, in such a strange situation, didn't leave you calm.

In the end, you just sank into the comfort of the bed, trying to drown out the uncomfortable thoughts.

The next morning you woke up at dawn, although the sun hadn't yet reached its highest point. You felt a little disoriented at first, the echo of the laughter from the night before still echoing in your head, mixed with the feeling of discomfort that the encounter with Rafe had left you with. But, in the end, you got up the courage to get up and made yourself comfortable a little. You changed into something more comfortable but decent: a simple t-shirt and some shorts. You wanted to dress casually, but you also knew that it wasn't the time to be disheveled.

You walked down the stairs and headed towards the kitchen. The house was quiet, as if everyone was still deep in their rest after the night. You decided to sit in one of the chairs, looking at the soft lights that filtered through the window, observing the garden that stretched outside. Everything was so quiet that it brought you peace.

You were waiting for Sofia, you knew that she would soon appear, probably with a dazzling smile and something interesting to tell, but time passed and it wasn't her who appeared. Instead of Sofia, it was Rafe who entered the kitchen. At first you didn't notice him at all, but when you looked up, your eyes met his. He was still wearing the shirt he had worn the night before. Rafe looked at you with a slight smile, as if nothing strange had happened the night before.

"Good morning," he said, his voice low and calm.

You felt a knot in your stomach, and without thinking about it too much, shame washed over you again. You remembered what had happened the night before: the laughter, the unexpected shock, how uncomfortable you had felt. You blushed and, with a sigh, decided to talk about it, as a way to let go of what was weighing you down.

“Hey, Rafe... I'm sorry about last night,” you said quickly, not knowing if it was really necessary, but you needed to get those words out. You felt stupid for having created such silly tension, but you couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort anymore.

Rafe raised his eyebrows for a moment, as if he didn't understand why you were apologizing, but his expression quickly softened.

“You don't have to apologize,” he replied, smiling calmly. His tone was so relaxed that it reassured you, almost as if the situation hadn't been as awkward as you thought. “It was nothing.”

That, in a way, relieved you, although you still felt a little embarrassed inside. But what really surprised you was how you kept talking to him, as if all of that had never happened. Despite the initial awkwardness, something about his presence made you feel calmer. You realized how easy it was to talk to him. The words flowed naturally, without the nerves you had felt before. They talked about trivial things at first: the house, his life, they had even talked about what you had thought of him when Sofia said they were dating. 

The conversation slowly relaxed, without tension. You found yourself smiling more than you had planned, enjoying the talk without the awkwardness from before having room to grow. Rafe wasn't pressuring, he didn't make awkward comments, he just spoke with an ease that made you feel at peace, as if there were no expectations. 

A few minutes passed, or maybe more, and you were surprised by how much you were enjoying talking to him. You had never imagined that you would have such a relaxed conversation with someone like him.

You were about to make one more comment when Sofia finally appeared. She entered the kitchen with a big smile, clearly full of energy, as always.

“Good morning!” she exclaimed, approaching the table and hugging you immediately. “How was your night? Did you rest well?”

She and Rafe looked at each other for a moment, exchanging a knowing smile that made it obvious how comfortable they were together.

“Yes, everything is fine,” you said to Sofia, smiling. “Just resting.”

Sofia looked at you curiously, as if she felt there was something more between you and Rafe, but she didn’t say anything. The feeling of being there with them, as part of the group, grew stronger. It was strange how the dynamics of that house absorbed you little by little, even when you weren’t completely sure where you fit in.

A few days had passed since that conversation in the kitchen, and although the calm between you and Rafe remained, something in you urged you to step away a little. You didn't have a specific reason, you just felt the need to disconnect from it all. You had your own business to attend to, things you had put aside while enjoying the company of Sofia and the others.

Rafe's house, the parties, all of that was left in the background as you immersed yourself in your own thoughts. The days passed without you going near Rafe's or Sofia's house, without you seeing them or even caring about how they were spending their time. You kept yourself busy, focused on other things: personal tasks, things you had had to put off because you were caught up in the flow of the Kooks' social life. You found yourself returning to your routines.

It had been a while since you disconnected a little from everything. The need to return to your own space had faded, and now, at the end of those days of silence, something was urging you to return. You thought about Sofia and how, even though you had been away, you knew she was still your friend. The idea of ​​her now living with Rafe, as quickly as she had, seemed a little strange to you, but in the end, it was her life, her decisions. You decided it was time to go back, to meet them, although you didn't know exactly what to expect. 

Arriving at Rafe's house, the stillness in the air made you feel that something wasn't right. The door was ajar, and inside, there was an unusual calm. Everything was silent. You assumed that Sofia wouldn't be home; she had probably gone out. 

But as you moved towards the living room, you came across a scene you hadn't expected. Rafe was there, alone, in the center of the room. His posture tense, his hands shaking slightly. The first hint of something strange was that the phone in his hand was still in the air, dangling in his hand. It looked like he had received a call that had left him shaken. You could clearly see his labored breathing, his eyes scanning the room as if he was looking for something or someone, but at the same time as if he couldn't find it. The atmosphere in the house felt heavy, laden with something dark that you couldn't quite place.

You didn't know what to do. You didn't want to interrupt, but you couldn't just leave either. You assumed the call he'd received had left him in that state, though you weren't sure what it had been. The silence between the two of you was awkward, and as you thought about what to do, you cautiously approached.

You called his name.

"Rafe..." you said softly, trying not to startle him any more than he already was.

He glanced at you quickly, and his gaze, far from the arrogance he usually had, was filled with anxiety and some anger. His face was marked by a concern you hadn't seen before, and for a moment, he didn't seem like the Rafe Cameron you knew.

The tension in the air increased, and when he opened his mouth to speak, his voice sounded raspy, almost desperate.

"Go away!" he shouted, his tone a little higher than expected. The sound of his voice, so full of anxiety, made you take a step back, although, despite the sudden fear, something in you told you that you shouldn't leave.

You stood there, motionless for a moment, feeling your heart beating faster than normal. Rafe's panic was palpable, and the last thing you wanted to do was push him further. But, at the same time, you knew you couldn't just leave him like that.

"Rafe," you said, this time with a calmness that you didn't feel, but that you knew you needed for him to calm down. "I'm not going to leave."

His expression changed for a second, and he stared at you, as if trying to process what you had just said. A couple of seconds of tension filled the space between the two of you, but you didn't let him speak, taking advantage of the moment to move a little closer to him.

"It's okay, I understand that you don't feel well," you added, almost in a protective tone, although you said it without really knowing why. You didn’t know him as well as Sofia, but somehow, you cared for him more than you thought.

He took a deep breath, still shaken, and for a moment you thought you wouldn’t make it. But then, something in his gaze changed. His body, which was so stiff and tense, relaxed just a little, as if he was letting the words you had said reach him.

You moved a little closer, this time without him asking you to.

“How can I help you?” you asked softly. You knew that, in those moments, sometimes all you need is someone to be there, without pushing too hard.

Rafe looked at you a little confused, as if he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, and then lowered his head, with a grimace of frustration.

“I don’t know…” he murmured, his voice still deep. “It’s just that… I got a call…”

You could see on his face that whatever had happened on that call had really affected him. You didn't say anything else, just waited for him to gather his thoughts, for him to feel ready to talk.

A few minutes passed in which the silence stretched out, and in that time, you were simply there, in the same room, giving him space, but showing him that you weren't willing to abandon him. Finally, he looked up, and in a low voice, he said:

“Thank you…”

You looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you could see Rafe without the layer of arrogance and superiority that he always showed. You realized that, in that moment, he wasn't the self-assured boy that he had always been. He was just a person, vulnerable, dealing with something that he couldn't handle on his own.

You stayed with him as long as he needed, making sure that he wasn't alone in that moment. You didn't know what had happened with the call, or what was going to happen next, but a part of you understood something new about Rafe.

After that moment, something changed between you and Rafe, something that neither of you had anticipated. From that night on, you became the only person capable of understanding him in his darkest moments, without the need for words, without the typical facade of security that he used to have. What happened between you was something silent, almost imperceptible, but enough to leave a mark on both of you. 

At first, Rafe didn't admit it out loud, he didn't even make it clear in his gestures, but there was something in his behavior that was beginning to change. The days passed, and while Sofia continued to be busy with her things, you began to see a side of Rafe that you had never imagined. He became quieter, more introspective, but instead of the usual practical jokes and air of arrogance, there were now moments when he looked simply lost, as if you were the only one in the world who understood what he was really feeling. And you, somehow, began to understand it too.

There was something about the way he looked at you when his thoughts seemed to be beyond his control, when the shadows of his past or his problems came back to haunt him. There was something that told you not to judge him, something that urged you to stay calm and empathetic, even when the situation seemed out of place. Whenever he seemed on the verge of losing control, you knew what to do, how to approach him without making him feel vulnerable or weak. You knew when to step back and when to offer him your company without needing to talk too much. 

One afternoon, several days after that first meeting when you calmed him down, Rafe came home late, more undone than usual. He had had a fight with some of Sofia’s friends, and although no one in the house mentioned anything, you knew. It was as if everything he was trying to hide was crudely on display for you. When you entered the living room, he found you staring at the floor, shoulders slumped, and that expression only he could put on: a mix of repressed rage and deep sadness.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, without pushing. You knew those words, though simple, could have more impact than you thought.

Rafe looked up, a little surprised by the calmness of your voice. Normally, he would have responded with a wry smile or a scathing comment, but instead, he looked at you and just said,

“I’m not.”

The tone was low, almost inaudible, as if he were revealing something he had never let slip before. You sat next to him without saying anything else, not forcing him to speak, but willing to stay there if he needed to vent. At that moment, you knew something had changed between the two of you.

The silence stretched out, but it wasn’t awkward. You knew Rafe didn’t need you to tell him what he should do or how he should feel. He just needed time, the space to be vulnerable without feeling judged, and in that space, you were the only one who could understand him. You didn’t need words to recognize the small gestures that betrayed him: the way his hand shook slightly or how his breathing quickened when something affected him too much. Those small details were what allowed you to see what others didn’t. 

As time went by, Rafe began to seek you out more often. Although he didn’t say it directly, you began to notice that there were times when he would simply approach you without a clear reason, without looking for a conversation, just so you would be close. On more than one occasion, he found you sitting on the couch, lost in your thoughts, and without saying anything, he sat next to you. No explanations were needed, because you both understood that just being together, without the need for words, was enough. 

There were days when he couldn’t hide what he felt, and without warning, the walls he had built around himself began to crumble. One day, after a particularly bad fight with Sofia, he came into the house, late at night. His face was tense, but there was something different about him. He didn’t yell, he didn’t hurl reproaches, but he just stood in the doorway, staring at you in silence, waiting for you to say something. And you did, you knew that what he needed was something that no one else gave him: reassurance.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” you asked calmly, as you always did.

Rafe took a deep breath, letting the weight of his thoughts surround him for a moment. Finally, he slumped down on the couch, eyes closed, not wanting to show what he felt. But you knew. You knew that, even if he didn’t say it, he was seeking comfort, not in words, but in the way you looked at him, in how your actions offered him respite.

“Sometimes…” he said, in a whisper, while looking straight ahead, not really seeing you. “I feel like I'm alone, even when I'm surrounded by people.”

You didn't need to say anything else. You knew that what he had revealed wasn't something he wanted to share with many, but with you, he felt safe. Sometimes, just knowing that someone understood him gave him the comfort he so desperately needed.

That was the dynamic between you: you didn't need to always talk, or understand everything. You just needed to be there, to be the only one who, in his darkest moments, could offer him a soft light, without pressure, just letting time and space do their work. And in that silent understanding, you became the only person capable of understanding Rafe in his entirety, in his most fragile and dark moments, when no one else dared to enter.

Despite everything you shared with Rafe, there was something inside you that you couldn't ignore. A desire, an attraction that, even though you tried to hide it, kept emerging with every gesture, with every word he said to you in those moments when his guard was down. You found yourself watching him more than you should have, noticing the little details that had previously gone unnoticed: how the light played in his hair, the way he laughed, or how his tone of voice changed when he was relaxed, when he felt like he didn’t have to be the same old Rafe, the one everyone admired or feared. 

At first, you tried to ignore it. You said it was just the closeness, the way things had developed between the three of you, and that it was a passing phase. But it wasn’t just that. Every time he smiled at you or looked at you in a warmer way, you felt a tug in your chest that you couldn’t control. There was something else in you that was building, something that terrified you. 

You thought about Sofia, how happy she was with him, how much she had supported you in everything, and it tormented you to feel what you felt for Rafe. You felt guilty, like you were betraying a friendship you had cared for for so long. She didn’t deserve that, you thought. Sofia had always been loyal, fun, and even though she could be impulsive and a little blind at times, you saw her happy, devoted to Rafe, trusting him in a way you never could.

There were times when, after talking to Rafe, you were left alone, with thoughts running wild in your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the way he made you feel special, about how his closeness disarmed you, how there was something in his fragility that attracted you, a side that no one else saw, but you did. You felt at a crossroads, trapped between what you felt and what you knew you couldn’t do.

It wasn’t just a physical attraction, it was something deeper. Something that made you want to hold him longer than a friend should. Something that asked you to be there for him in a way that went beyond friendship. It was the desire to be close to him, to take care of him, to become his refuge, and it terrified you how much you loved him without being able to control it. 

At first, you tried to suppress it. Every time you felt that need to be closer to him, to share more moments, you tried to convince yourself that it was just a phase, that it was because of the closeness of the last few months. But the more you denied it, the stronger that feeling became inside you, like it was an undercurrent that grew every time he looked at you with those dark, intense eyes. Those eyes that disarmed you, that seemed to see beyond your facade, beyond your friendship. 

Sometimes, you felt like you were walking on a tightrope. You knew that every moment you spent with Rafe, every conversation, every gesture, brought you closer to something you couldn't allow yourself. But you couldn't help it. The desire, the attraction, everything you felt for him, was growing inside you, and no matter how many times you told yourself it was a betrayal, that you should stay away, you couldn't stop thinking about what happened when he was around.

Every time Sofia left, every time Rafe was left alone with you, that feeling grew stronger, as if the air between the two of you became thick and charged with something neither of you dared to mention. It scared you, it made you uncomfortable, but you couldn't stop it.

[fastandcarlos]

Halfway Round The World For You : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: as the two of you find long distance harder, max comes up with a solution that might just solve your problem of being so far away

A groan came from you as once again your call went unanswered, the beep of Max’s answerphone your usual greeting. You looked down at your watch again, sure that he would be awake as you quickly did the maths to figure out the current time difference between you both again. 

Whilst he was getting himself ready for the day, you were ready to see the end of it. As usual, there was one final thing that you needed to do before falling asleep, and that was to speak to Max and catch up. 

Mostly, he agreed to do it as it was his way of checking up on you. When you were so far away from him whilst he was racing, he worried about you. Were you resting? Eating? Not getting stressed at work? He never really knew the answer unless he called you and got to see for himself. 

As you were about to give up, your phone rang, making you jump. You glanced across, quickly picking up. “Hi love.” 

“Hi, I thought you were too busy for me today.” 

“Don’t be silly,” Max grinned, adjusting his phone so that you could see his face. 

Your smile turned up as you sat your phone down on your bedside table to free your hands up. As you glanced at Max though, his usual smile wasn’t there, replaced by a frown that had you worrying. 

“How’s everything going? Are you all ready for the race this weekend?” You quizzed, excited to see Max back behind the wheel for the start of the new season. 

His head nodded, with hardly any expression on his face. “The car is alright, but I’m not exactly confident.” 

His voice sounded dejected, the passion that Max usually spoke about work with had gone. He brushed his hand through his hair as he let go of a sigh which you just about managed to hear. 

“What’s going on Max?” You asked him, “and don’t say nothing, because I know you too well.” 

His heart sunk as his eyes met yours on the screen, noticing just how concerned you were. Although he was halfway around the world, you knew him like the back of your hand, picking up on all the signs that things weren’t right. 

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I managed to spend most of the off season with you and I’m already missing you. I just know I’m probably not going to be able to spend any proper time with you again until summer break,” Max confessed. 

You smiled weakly as he spoke, “I’ll still come to most of your races Max, and when I can I’ll fly out to Monaco to see you, you know we always make it work.” 

“But I’m fed up of having to make it work, this isn’t how I want it to be forever, I’m so fed up of this long-distance thing.” 

You didn’t know what to say as Max’s eyes looked down from the phone, staring down at the ground. You could tell this was something that had been troubling Max for some time as he finally offloaded on you. You gave yourself a moment before responding, trying your best to figure out the right thing to say, not wanting to make Max feel any worse than he already did. 

“It’s not going to be like this forever.” 

Max wanted to believe you, but he just wasn’t sure. It had been two years of back and forth between you both, and it wasn’t getting any easier. If anything, Max found it harder, he wanted to spend more time with you, but he just couldn’t. 

“I wish you could be with me, permanently,” Max confessed. “It’s so strange how weird everything feels without you by my side. All the little things, like how we were constantly bumping into each other trying to move around your flat.” 

“I miss it too,” you assured, staring around your empty flat. “But you’ve got work, another world championship to win, and I don’t have the money to be able to fly out with you every weekend, or ever afford a place in Monaco.” 

Your words caught Max’s attention for a moment as he let go of a hum. You could tell by the way his eyes narrowed that Max was thinking about something, studying him closely as you tried to figure out what exactly was going through his head. 

Max knew that Monaco was an expensive place, and not somewhere that you wouldn’t be able to stay by himself, but that didn’t mean that it was somewhere that you could rule out, not completely anyway. 

“What about if we did something about that? What if Monaco wasn’t a place where you had to live all by yourself?” Max asked you, watching as you looked at him in confusion. 

“What are you trying to say Max?” You enquired. 

The way his smile turned up had you worrying, you knew that Max had plenty of crazy ideas, dreading to think what sort of master plan he had come up with this time. 

“I’m saying why don’t you move to Monaco, but come and stay with me. You spent most of the summer with me anyway, and work would allow you to stay there,” Max encouraged. “Even if I’m still racing, it means each time I’m home we can spend time together.” 

You went to speak, but your voice faltered, struggling to believe what you’d heard. “That’s a huge move,” you whispered, “Monaco isn’t exactly next door, it’s thousands of miles away.” 

“But it’s where I am love.” 

Your head nodded, you knew that Max had a point, but moving wasn’t an easy thing. There would be plenty of things that you’d have to leave behind, uncertain as to whether that was something that you could do. 

“It’s a huge thing Max.” 

“I know,” he frowned, worried that he had put his foot in it. “I’m not saying you need to make a decision now; I just thought it would be nice for us to be together properly. 

Max was beginning to regret his offer as he noticed the panic in your eyes. You didn’t know what you wanted, you loved your home, but you loved Max too. It was a huge sacrifice, and although you loved visiting Monaco, was it the place that you wanted to live forever? 

“You don’t need to agree, or disagree now,” Max insisted, “I’m not saying you’d have to move permanently either. But if you did move to Monaco, I’d help you every step of the way. Moving, sorting work out, finding things for you to do, I’d do whatever it took. The thought of having you there every morning though is like a dream.” 

Your hands ran through your hair, your heart racing as you overthought everything. Every possible situation, good and bad, suddenly seemed to rush through your mind as fast as a race car. 

“Can you just say something? Anything?” Max whimpered. 

Your eyes slowly flickered up to look at the screen again, your heart aching as you looked at Max, knowing that he was so far away from you. 

“I’d love to move to Monaco,” you told him, much to his relief. “It’s not going to be an easy move, but you’re right, we can’t carry on like this forever Max.” 

“Really? And you’re absolutely sure?” Max asked, wanting to double check. 

Your head nodded, sure in your heart that Monaco was the perfect place for you. “If it’s where you are, then it’s where I want to be too.” 

“You’ve got no idea how happy you’ve just made me,” Max chuckled, “I love you, I can’t wait to have you with me, to finally make my place a home for the both of us.” 

“I love you too, Max.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[faithshouseofchaos]

But I love them — Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader

Word count — 985

Fluff

Warnings — slightly suggestive towards the end this is mainly for a my girlies who are apart of the big boobs community

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon in Charles’ apartment, the kind of day that begged for nothing more than lounging on the couch and ignoring the world. He was half-watching a football match, the sound of commentators filling the space as he absentmindedly scrolled on his phone. Beside him, Y/N was curled up, legs tucked beneath her, scrolling through her phone with a focused look on her face.

Out of nowhere, she sighed, set her phone down, and said casually, “I think I’m finally going to do it.”

Charles looked up, brow furrowing. “Do what?”

She didn’t even glance at him. “Get a breast reduction.”

It took him a moment to process the words. He blinked, sat up straighter, and turned to her with wide eyes. “Hold on. What now?”

Y/N finally looked at him, her expression calm but resolute. “I’ve been thinking about it for years, and I think it’s time. My back can’t take it anymore.”

Charles stared at her like she’d just suggested selling their firstborn child. “Your back? When did this become about your back?”

“Always,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Charles, you know this. I’ve been complaining for ages.”

He leaned back, waving a hand dismissively. “You’ve complained, sure, but I just thought it was, like, normal life complaining. Not surgery-level complaining!”

“Charles,” she said firmly, her tone laced with both patience and warning.

He sat up, his full attention now on her. “You’re seriously thinking about just… getting rid of them? Like, just like that?”

“Yes.”

“But…” He gestured dramatically at her chest. “You can’t just get rid of them! They’re—” He paused, grasping for the right word. “They’re iconic!”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, already regretting bringing this up while he was awake. “Charles. I’m in pain all the time. My shoulders have permanent dents from my bra straps, I can’t go running without strapping myself in like a gladiator, and every button-up shirt I own gapes open like it’s crying for help.”

“Okay,” he said, raising a hand to stop her. “But—”

“And bras?” she interrupted. “Do you know how much I spend on bras? A hundred bucks each, minimum. And they’re not even cute. They’re functional. Like, ‘industrial scaffolding’ functional.”

Charles blinked at her, his lips parting like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he said weakly, “But… you look great in them.”

“Oh my god.” She threw her hands up, exasperated. “This is not about how I look, Charles. It’s about how I feel. And I feel like I’m carrying around a couple of bowling balls every day of my life.”

He frowned, leaning forward as if he could reason his way out of this. “But what about us?”

“What about us?”

“Our dynamic! The… the whole…” He gestured at her chest again, like it was a key player in their relationship. “You know, vibe.”

“Charles,” she said flatly. “They’re boobs.”

“Not just boobs,” he argued. “They’re your boobs. They’re a part of you. A part of us!”

She stared at him, deadpan. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious!” He stood up, pacing in front of the couch now. “Do you know how many people would kill for what you’ve got? And you’re just gonna… throw them away like an old sweater?”

“Okay, first of all, ew. And second of all, you’re being dramatic.”

He stopped pacing to point at her. “I’m not being dramatic. I’m being honest. You’re about to break the hearts of an entire fanbase—”

“Your fanbase,” she corrected, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly!”

Y/N let out a disbelieving laugh. “Charles, I’ve made up my mind. This isn’t about you, or your ‘fanbase,’ or even how I look. It’s about me being able to live my life without constant pain and discomfort.”

He deflated a little at that, sinking back onto the couch. “But what if you regret it?”

“I won’t.”

“But what if you do?” he pressed. “What if one day you wake up and think, ‘Wow, my life was so much better when Charles was worshiping the temple of—’”

She picked up a throw pillow and smacked him in the face with it. He caught it with a grin, but his eyes were still slightly pleading.

“Charles,” she said, softer now. “I appreciate that you love me exactly as I am. But this isn’t about you.”

He sighed dramatically, flopping backward on the couch. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m going to miss them. Like… a lot.”

“Noted,” she said dryly.

“Maybe I’ll throw a farewell party,” he added. “You know, invite some friends over. We’ll say our goodbyes properly.”

Y/N laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me,” he said smugly, pulling her back onto the couch and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Unfortunately.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Y/N got up to grab a glass of water. Charles pulled out his phone and began typing into the search bar: “Can boobs grow back after surgery?”

She glanced back at him from the kitchen, catching the guilty look on his face.

“Charles!”

“What? I’m just… curious!”

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, but there was a smile tugging at her lips, drinking the water and setting the glass down on the counter as she walked back over to Charles.

“Hey!” Charles says as y/n snatches the phone out of Charles's hands her own hands cupped his face “It’ll be okay Charles. It’s not the end of the world baby, you know that right?” You ask.

“Of course I know that but I just love them so much,” Charles says, reaching up to cup her breast feeling the weight of them.

“Can I fuck them?” Charles asked out of nowhere.

“Charles!”

“What can’t blame me for asking” he says smiling holding his hands up defensively.

“You no what I don’t see why not”

[tswiftupdatess]

Taylor Swift talking about working on The Eras Tour, re-recording, performing with a broken heart and the joy and safety the Tour brings to fans at The Eras Tour Book:

“I'll never forget the call when I explained my idea of the concept for The Eras Tour to my team. At the time, I was working on the Midnights album and if we were to do what I've always done, I would've embarked on planning The Midnights Tour. But there's nothing I hate more than doing what I've always done.

“We're going to call it The Eras Tour and each album will have its own chapter, it's own world.” I told them that I want to fully commit to each era, musically, stylistically and aesthetically. They should feel like time capsules. If we do this right, I said, we can celebrate and honor both new fans and fans who have been here from day one.

It had been 6 years sice I'd toured. In those 6 years, a lot had transpired for me creatively. I release Lover, folklore, evermore, and eventually Midnights. In another real of my priorities was my passion project: re-recording my first 6 albums that were sold away from me by my former record label. Reclaiming my past made me fall back in love with it. Revisiting that past work made me want to honor it and honor what the fans had done for me with the Taylor's Version albums. And so the new albums and my re-records left me with the dilemma: HOW on Earth are we going to play all of this music live? I decided to create the longest, most ambitious show I'd ever even attempted. Averaging at 3 hours and 15 minutes, with 45 songs played. My goal was for every fan to leave that show knowing I gave them absolutely everything I had. I made a promise to myself to be physically and mentally tougher than I ever had been before. To be more disciplined and commited to my health, fitness, and stamina. Thankfully, I'm surrounded by my incredible crew, band, singers, and dancers who all matched my dedication to the massive scale and challenges of this show. We would go on to play this show in the pouring rain, in the blazing heat, in the thickest humidity, in the wildest winds, and in the bitter cold. We would do it if we were sick or exhausted or injured. We would do it with a broken heart. We do this because we love having the rare opportunity to create happiness and wonder up on that stage. We do it because we know it takes time and effort and money and energy to plan out coming to a concert. We do it because every friendship bracelet traded has the potential to become a new friend, and you never know what dreams can be sparked if we succeed in painting a dreamscape in every city we visit. We do it because people need an escape from how brutal life can be, and it is the honor of a lifetime to be that for them, if only for a night. And although we are all on our own in this big scary life, somehow it doesn't feel that way when we're singing the same words as 80,000 other people wearing glittery face paint. We do it because life comes in waves, in phases, in brilliant flurries of magical moments, and all of these things come together to create…Eras.

Here is the official retrospective of the most wondrouds tour of my life, my beloved Eras Tour.

See you next era..”

(November 29, 2024)

[starkeynation]

Is it casual now?

Content : angst, a bit similar to the scene where Sofia overheard Rafe saying she’s not his girlfriend, inspired by the song Casual by Chappell Roan (may or may not be accurate)

a/n : sorry in advanced i know Chappell is for the girlies also idk if im proud of this but your likes and reblogs will always be appreciated🤍

── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ──

It has been exactly 4 months since you met Rafe Cameron, the kook king you never knew you would fall so deeply for. The first time you met him, you were nothing but a blur in his world. A passing figure and a random pogue that was at his party. But Rafe, you saw something in him the moment you met his sparkling blue eyes. You couldn’t exactly tell what it was. Maybe it’s the fact that he looks so handsome even under bad lights, or the way you could listen to him forever every time he speaks. At that moment, you were ready to risk it all.

You made your move that night. The way you charmed him may have made him realize you both were something more than strangers passing through each other’s lives and ever since then, you were both inseparable. Although he said “No attachment,” the first time you both hooked up, you still went along with it, hoping it could be real one day.

Sometimes when you’re hanging out with your friends outside, you would hear some rumors saying you’re just a girl that Rafe bangs on his couch. The pogues call you a loser for still hanging around him but you ignore them and the rumors because most of the time he treats you as if you were someone he couldn’t lose. Just two weeks after knowing each other, he invites you to dinner with his whole family. The way he fucks you in the bathroom while his parents are still at the table, the way he brings you to the country club and shows you off, the way he’s eating you out in the passenger seat, and mostly the way he talks to you, so gently and sweet that got you thinking maybe this isn’t just some dumb love.

You’re at the pub where you agreed to meet Rafe. The sky on the way there was already turning a heavy blue slate, signaling that rain was on the way. You enter the pub and recognize Rafe’s back immediately standing on the other end accompanied by Topper and his foul girlfriend Ruthie. As you are about to approach them, you hear his voice, “She’s not my girlfriend okay, it’s just…casual. No strings attached.”

You freeze. The words land like ice in your chest, sharp and cold. If that isn’t enough you then hear Ruthie say, “You sure about that Rafe? How do your parents feel that you’re living with a pogue,” she smirks, her eyes gleaming with sarcasm.

“I’m not fucking living with a pogue okay,” he says annoyingly.

You have to steady yourself. You could feel your stomach churn as you’re processing what you’re hearing. You can’t believe it. You both never had a “talk” about being exclusive, but you thought you were starting to matter to him and close to making it official.

You hide behind a column in the middle of the pub, trying to decide what to do. Part of you wants to walk away, leave without saying a word, and let him figure out what he’d lost. But you couldn’t just let it go. So you make your way to the table, keeping a neutral face, and try to hold back your tears.

“Hey, there you are,” Rafe smiles, as you approach him.

“Hey,” you say, your voice steady, though it takes everything you have to keep it from shaking. “We need to talk.” Before he could say anything, you grab his hand taking him outside the pub. As you stand outside, it’s already drizzling.

“Whoa, what’s wrong? Can't we talk inside? It’s raining,” he asks, his voice full of confusion.

You let go of his hand and go silent for a moment. He looks at your face that is now about to cry, “Baby what’s wrong?” he says.

“Don’t call me that if you don’t mean it Rafe,” you mutter.

He blinks. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you,” your voice loud now. “Telling them we’re not dating? No strings attached? Seriously Rafe? After these past few months? Is it casual now?”

Rafe’s face shifts, the unease creeping into his features. He clears his throat, trying to smooth over the tension. “Look, I thought we’re on the same page here-“

“Same page? What same page are we talking about?” You cut him off. “I thought you were starting to look at me differently now Rafe.” You fluster. “Oh and not to mention calling me a pogue? I thought we’re WAY past that..”

He sighs, scratching the back of his head. “Ok about that I'm sorry kay’. I didn’t mean to call you a pogue just, you know…Topper and Ruthie, they caught me off guard. And you never really talked about anything more serious, so I figured we’re just not together.”

You could feel the heat rising in your chest. “I never talked about it? Oh so now I’m the one to blame? Are you serious?” Your eyes narrow.

He pauses, trying to find the right thing to say. “I just…I’m happy with the way we are right now. I’m not-“

“Not what? Not ready to be in a relationship? That’s bullshit.” You cut him off again, not wanting to hear any excuses. “How can you stand there and say you’re okay with this? After all the plans we made, the endless nights we spent?” you continue, meeting his gaze that looks unbothered. “You know what…I can’t…yes, I tried to be the chill girl who holds her tongue and gives you space but not anymore. No, I’m done,” you say, trying to walk away.

The rain is getting heavier now, and both of you are soaking wet. “Wait,” he calls out your name. “Just wait okay…I’m sorry I hurt you, yes I would be lying if I said this doesn’t mean something but just give me time okay, I just…I can't do relationships right now,” he says, grabbing your wrist trying to stop you.

“No Rafe,” you shake your head, a tear runs down to your cheek. “I’m done waiting. It’s hard Rafe…It’s hard being casual when my favourite bra lives in your dresser and it’s definitely not casual when I’m always on the phone talking to Wheezie like I’m her sister,” you swallow, biting your inner cheek trying to keep your emotion in check.

He gives a small dismissive wave, like I’m overthinking things. “Well I did warn you no attachment, y/n,” he says, with such cold detachment, as if his words are nothing more than a simple fact, devoid of any emotion.

You look at him with disappointment crawling up to your throat. He isn’t even trying to make it work, not even pretending to care about how you feel. You hate the fact what he said is true, he did warn you not to get attached and you hate yourself even more for dragging this on for so long. You stare at him for a moment longer, “Fuck you, Rafe,” then you turn and walk away to your car. There is no use in arguing with someone who has no intention of changing their mind. If this is how Rafe sees you, then he is not the guy you think he is.

Maybe he is okay with keeping things casual but you deserve more than that. Rafe Cameron can go to hell.

[inthehexcore]

pages and books

summary: The quiet Enforcer stops by your quiet library. Multiple times.

content: STEB! librarian!reader gets sick, fluff, can't think of much else! probably ooc

wordcount: 2.397

a/n: i love Steb so much... inbox/requests open!

⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The sun in Piltover shone as bright as it always did. It lit up the entire library, and you could not help but hum as you pushed the cart of books around. The warmth of the rays only made the building look more beautiful, something which you were not aware was even possible.

The high ceilings with curved windows and hand-painted images, detailed golden pillars, royal blue seats with dark wooden tables. Not all of your fellow students liked the library. To be fair, there were tons of other stunning places all around Piltover, but yours was here.

You spent so much time surrounded by the books that you just ended up taking a side job as the assistant. It meant pouring coffee and putting back books, but it also meant reading when everything was cleaned and drinking the sweet tea that was technically only meant for the professors.

With the library not being the most popular spot, it also allowed you to brush up on skills and even pick up new things to learn. The history of Piltover, Professor Heimerdinger's autobiography, varieties of plants, but most recently, you found a book about sign language. It was interesting for sure. Every time you put the loaned books back in their spot, another one got added to the stack of other books that you still wanted to read during your breaks.

So, as per usual, you sat at the window near the counter. Even with it being your break, you still liked to be close to your workspace, just in case someone came in.

A steaming cup of tea stood beside your book as you flipped through the pages, admiring the photographs of Piltover's 'ten most beautiful buildings', occasionally stirring the cup of tea and taking a sip out of it. Stuck in your own world, though your gaze moved to outside the window ever so often. From here, you could see the main square - the market, Enforcers, students.

The watch around your wrist kept ticking away, reminding you that your break had already stopped a few minutes ago. A neat bookmark got placed between the pages of the book as you turned around, nearly dropping the hot beverage that you were holding.

Right in front of you stood a tall Enforcer. His face was blank and his hands were clasped behind his back. You were nearly jealous of his posture - you must have looked idiotic with how hunched over you were sitting.

"Oh, Officer! I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long."

The man slowly shook his head, his eyes set on you as you moved back to the counter, placing the book that you were reading back on its space. He took a step closer, his arms still behind him.

"What can I help you with today?"

He held out his hand, a small note hidden in the grip of his glove. A short list with some of the most specific books you had seen in a while. Even though you did not dare to ask him why he needed all of these, you could not help but try to theorize.

Maybe he was working on a weapon, or what if he went off into the wilderness and build a house out of nothing but sticks and mud?

"Ha, this might take me a moment to find. Would you like some tea, Officer?"

Quietly, he stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. He just had his break - after bringing these books to Commander Kiramman, his day was basically over. Patrol for an hour, and then it was time for him to relax. Finally away from all the loud sounds of the city. But being in the empty library was not unwelcome, either.

"I will be back in a sec!"

It was much longer than a sec.

With every minute, you got more and more anxious. How could you keep an Enforcer waiting for this long? There was no one in the entire library! Your footsteps sounded heavy and you felt like every breath you took was one too loud. But, after fifteen minutes and lots of going up and down ladders, you finally found all the books on his list.

"And... Phew! This should be all," you wiped your hands, "Do you need help bringing it to... your office?"

Silently, the Enforcer shook his head again, reaching for the stack of thick books as he held them in his hands.

"Oh! What name can I put these on? That way I can remember, for next week!"

Next week? Oh, to return the books.

The man looked around him for a moment before his eyes fell on the small notebook next to you. He glanced at it as he looked back at you. You furrowed your eyebrows for a moment before going 'aha!', reaching for your notebook as you opened it on a blank page, handing him your pen. If you could have, you would have chuckled. A strong officer writing in your sparkly notebook with a neon-coloured gel pen.

He put the pen back down, nodding before taking one step back.

"Thank you so much. Till next time, Officer Steb."

Even with the interaction being a little under a week ago, you still had not moved on from it. His intense, blue gaze, his straight and confident posture. His handwriting even - it was immortalized in your notebook.

You found yourself looking for him through the windows, and while walking through the square, you would keep an eye out for his tall figure. 'He still has two days to return the books,' you thought to yourself. Most people even turned their books in late. But he was an Enforcer, so you highly doubted that he would.

Humming again as you placed the books back on the shelves, your cart now empty. Except for a few students in the far corner of the library, you were all on your own. You didn't mind - it left you with some time to finish up the essay that was due for tomorrow. So, with a sigh, you pushed the cart back to the counter.

There, in front of the small spot where you always sat, stood Officer Steb. It seemed to immediately lift your spririts as the cart suddenly felt much lighter.

"Officer Steb!"

His ears slightly moved back a little, not expecting your voice to suddenly pop up, but as he saw you, he gave you a nod.

"And, how did you like the books?"

He only nodded in return, placing the stack of books down on the counter. All of them had been put in alphabetical order - he must be an organized man. You pulled up his page, making sure that you had all the correct books as you nodded, scribbling down all the extra information before handing him the handwritten receipt.

"Could I do anything else for you, Officer?"

Steb was quiet - he was quiet often times. Out of his pocket, he fished another note with a few more books on it. The Undercity's History, a cookbook, 'Haircutting for Dummies!', and some more titles. You glanced up at him, trying hard not to let chuckles escape from you.

"Are these… All for you?"

You spot the tiniest shape of a smile as he shook his head. He tapped his Enforcer badge as you nodded, an 'oooh' as you looked back at the list.

"Be right back!"

This time, you found the books much faster. Not that Steb minded if you took a while - he enjoyed the library. He liked the books, the smells, the sun - you. Maddie offered to bring all the loaned books back to the library, but by the time she could even think about standing up, Steb was already out the door. The rest of the Enforcers shrugged it off as the man just wanting to spend some quiet time on their own. It was what he did.

But you.

How… Happy you always were. Cheery, but not overwhelmingly so. A bright flash of the sun through dark clouds. A stark contrast to his stoic demeanour, fire and water.

"There we go," you hummed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as you pushed the cart back to the desk, "Can I put it under Officer Steb again?"

Hearing his name coming from you felt new, refreshing. He nodded, reaching over for the stack.

"Well, if you use the haircut book, let me know."

Steb snorted with a smile before clearing his throat, quickly standing back up straight before nodding. He was looking forward to next week.

For months, he came every single Tuesday, always around the same time. It must be during his break, or during his patrol. Only once had someone else shown up, Officer Nolan, as she introduced herself. She was nice and very talkative, so the two of you spent quite some time at the desk, chatting away. The week after that, Steb had written something extra on a note that he had stuck in a book.

'Sorry for Officer Nolan'

It had made you laugh.

Every week, the list of books would be different from the one before. Not only that, but the topics of said books could not be further apart. It was after a month of wondering that Steb answered the burning question that you had in mind. 'They are for the entire squad. They make a list, I get the books.' It made sense. So now, every week, you would try to guess which of the Enforcers would be reading which book. A fun little game, and thankfully Officer Steb would humour you, nodding or shaking his head depending on if your guess was right.

Over time, it felt like a friendship. More details of Steb came to the surface, and he would ask about your day. Favorite foods, hobbies, things you both hated. Officer Steb did not speak much, but he was comforting company. If bringing the book was his last task of the day, then he would stay at the library for a moment, starting the book that was meant for him. The last few times, you also placed a cup of tea next to him when he wasn't looking. It was like a challenge to see if he noticed you sneaking up on him - he did, but he would have never told you.

Today had been a bad day.

You slipped on your way to the library, there was a group of loud kids in the library, your head was pounding and you were not sure if you were feeling hot or cold. With a pack of tissues in your hand, you sniffed, squeezing your eyes shut.

The large windows and bright sun felt like a curse as you wished for nothing more than it to be dark outside. At least the group of rowdy teenagers had finally left.

When you heard the door open again, you nearly groaned in annoyance. If they returned, then you would have had no other choice but to hide in the back, away from the noise.

But after the creaking of the door, there was no other noise. You raised an eyebrow before lifting your head out of your hands, being met with no one other than Officer Steb.

"Oh, Officer Steb," you sniffed, your voice hoarse and odd-sounding due to your blocked nose, "I nearly forgot the date."

While usually dressed in his Enforcer uniform, he now wore something much more casual. You had never seen him outside of the dark blue and gold - the black and dark green suited him. Without his beret or helmet on, you could also see his hair. You wondered if he used the 'Haircutting for Dummies' book for it all those months ago. According to Steb, the book was not for him. His eyebrows creased as he scanned you, squinting his eyes.

"Yeah, not the best day," you shrugged, wiping your hand on your shirt, "But there is no one else to run the library, so… Me it is."

He quietly stared at you for another moment before gesturing to your notepad again. The sparkly cover held many pages of his handwriting - so many that it might as well have been his. You silently hand it over, your head aching with every move you make.

'Stay here, be right back'.

Steb turned on his heels, walking right down the hall and out the door. You only raised an eyebrow before looking over the stack of books and writing down all the information you needed. After what felt like an eternity, you finally sat back down in your chair, your fingers rubbing at your temples.

The Enforcer came back not long after, a small bag in his left hand. He placed it on the counter - as quietly as he could - which made you look back up.

"You're free."

Steb's voice was so different from what you imagined.

"I-" you frowned, "Excuse me, Officer Steb? I'm not sure what you mean."

"Just Steb is fine," he looked away, "Commander Kiramman has contacted the owner of the library, your boss, and you have permission to leave now."

How had he done that?

Your bag was still packed, resting against the side of the counter, almost jumping in excitement that you got to go home.

"You are sick, yes?"

"I mean… Sadly so, I'm guessing."

He nodded, slowly reaching out to you before slightly raising an eyebrow. You breathed in, nodding as his hand made contact with your forehead. Cold, so cold. Your eyes almost closed at the sensation, the feeling of his cool fingers nice against your burning face.

Sadly, the moment ended all too soon as Steb reached into the small bag, pulling out an assortment of different painkillers and medicine.

"Once a day," he held up one of the packets, "Maximum of three a day, six hours inbetween."

He had gone out to get you medicine? You nearly wanted to start crying, your tired eyes and heavy limbs glad that they would almost be able to rest. Not to mention the bursting and pounding of your heart. Despite feeling horrible, a smile still formed on your face.

"I… Steb, thank you. I can't believe this."

He took your bag off the ground, waiting for you to lock everything up before exiting the library, side by side.

"Thank you again," you said, though it came out not nearly as loud as you thought it would have.

"Have to take care of my favourite librarian," his comment nearly made you fall over, though he would not have let that happen, "I bring you home, you take the medicine, and I see you next week?"

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Calming the Emperor God

Geta x wife! reader

warning : hurt/comfort, kissing, cuddling, mention of murder and sickness

Summary : Rome seemed to turn on their rulers, what Caracalla compensated with more Colosseum fighting Geta had to face reality as much as he thought he was divine, he alone couldn't control everything. The demand of his head was only the beginning as the emperor sought advice and care in the arms of his wife.

info : A work for Geta I just wanted to give him a long hug, enjoy reading ;)

masterlist

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

Marriage, when you were a ruler of a empire, it was important to have a wife after your appointment, someone you loved or not, someone who could give you an heir.

He had even less regard for his father than his brother, a man driven by empathy and kindness as well as hope, a weak man whose only great deed was to father him and Caracalla with his mother, nothing else. That was the only reason for his damned father's last acts, a marriage.

A marriage three years ago, on his twentieth name day, he took her as his wife, a young lady of his own age from a noble house of the united kingdoms under Rome.

He hadn't thought much of her then, but when he looked at the sitautioon now, she was more than just his love, she was his shield, the judgement of the people and a light that all kinds of people looked up to so that the people wouldn't rise up in revolt.

She was a pillar at his side who could lead Rome, advise Caracalla and be there for him at the same time…the only thing that had not been created in all this time was an heir.

An inheritance that in theory the two emperors had in each other, but with each passing day Geta saw how bad things were for Caracalla, ,,The Holy Roman Empire will belong to the world, but three deaths would mean its end" he had said shortly after their wedding, at first still indifferent to her, even disgusted by her failure to conceive and paranoid that she would betray him.

But none of this mattered when he saw how gentle she was with his brother, how good she was at managing the senate and how understanding she was towards him every day.

,,My doubts were never about you, my husband, a marriage of the dead is beyond our influence and your circumstance worries me more than my own" she had admitted when she realised how bad things were for the emperors.

Who ruled a world empire, how easy she had had it, several siblings, no illnesses, her parents a long life and security, everything Geta and his brother didn't have.

Both had hardly received any training in warfare, politically she hardly knew what to do and they had no connection to the people.

From the moment they were born, they had already come too close to the sun and would never raise their wings again. She was a woman, a princess, aware of her role as a mother, but if she couldn't even be that, she would do anything to support her husband.

Taking her eyes from the marble floor that lay cold beneath her sandals, she looked back at her husband Geta presenting new proposals for the military, improvements and enhancements to a Senate that seemed barely interested.

They were strategies and proposals for which Geta had spent hours and nights in the library with her, he was trying so hard for his people, or at least for the world for now, the dream of a Rome that covered the world, it wasn't fair that the senate consisted only of fake snakes, but you couldn't kill them either.

No one is interested but us she thought and sat down again on Geta's throne when she heard a giggle next to her.

Caracalla was once again more than just bored by all this and began to play with his fingers, seeing that Geta gave her a quick glance and an unsaid ‘thank you darling’ seemed to come from his eyes, she rose to take care of Caracalla.

As much as the presence of both emperors was required, Caracalla was disturbed by the introduction of the laws the blond was probably about to rise herself, she put her hand on his shoulder, ,,We should leave Geta alone, how about a game?" she asked in a whisper and saw the grin widen. Already sending Caracalla forward.

She bowed to Geta who had paused in his speech, allowing everyone a brief moment to think, ,,I'm already longing for your liberating kiss of my sorrows" he murmured to her before placing a kiss on her cheek, a face with a ‘divine’ countenance looking back at her before she withdrew from the senate.

Once again, her god had to try to cope on his own, an event that occurred weekly and took its toll on him, for what was an emperor without preparation since childhood?

He was nothing.

Footsteps followed Caracalla, who was already pulling out his favourite figurines from a wicker basket, ,,The conquest of Rome with the crucifixions of the Christians!" he announced and she clapped as he told her everything in meticulous detail.

Not a game in the sense, but something amusing for him, especially when he could stab the little figures and she had to make the death noises that he always found extremely sweet, ,,Your memories are unfathomable and fascinating," she said and tapped him on the forehead.

He could hardly remember what was served for dinner yesterday, but he seemed to know such a battle going back hundreds of years completely by heart, it was the madness you couldn't control.

But that didn't matter because, apart from the battle, they played together with Dundus and in the afternoon she had to sing Caracalla a lullaby because otherwise he wouldn't go to bed, otherwise he would only cause more ‘problems’ like a small child.

One thing that hardly bothered her anymore she knew it would give Geta less to worry about and she had a few more hours of peace and quiet in which to organise her own things, ,,Sleep well little king" she whispered as she closed the door to his room and with a sigh made her way back to her own room.

Knowing that the meeting in the senate would take a long time she returned to her art of the gods, knowing that only they could help her and her family Appolo I pray to you for healing and beauty over my brother-in-law Caracalla and husband Geta she heard her own praying voice in front of her altar to Appolon the model for Geta.

In all the golden clothes he wore, even the make-up was dedicated to the god, but the gods seemed to have abandoned the brothers since the birth and not given her a blessing.

She spent the next few hours embroidering, writing and reading books, hoping to get advice from former emperors on how to cultivate fields to increase yields, which were getting lower and lower.

This was bad for the population of Rome, the army and the imperial family itself, who had to cope with all this without falling into the madness that Caracalla was making worse and worse.

The goblet of water next to her was refilled every now and then and the lamps and torches in her room were turned on by the servants when the sun had long since reached the horizon, she knew that the discussion in the Senate had to come to an end.

She was about to roll back the parchment and place it on the table when someone knocked on her door.

,,Yes?” she said, but instead of her beloved she only found a servant who bowed and replied, ,,Emperor Geta wishes to see you, he insists that you dine with him. His brother Emperor Caracalla has already been taken care of” the message read.

She sent the servant away with a wave of her hand and rose herself more hastily than she had intended and immediately headed for his chamber, which was only a corridor away.

So Caracalla is sleeping well it flashed through her mind casually as she realized that he had probably taken care of him as well. Geta was once again doing a lot more than he was supposed to, another reason why she loved him so much.

Stopping in front of the large double wooden door, the guards bowed before they opened the door for her and she was finally back with him, ,,Geta dearest I see you again,” she said happily and automatically went to the table where she had expected him to be for dinner but he wasn't there.

Turning around as she heard a sniffle she saw a golden curly head standing on the balcony, he was overlooking the city but ewa san his posture made her falter ,,Geta? Is everything alright?” she asked as she stepped out into the cool night and stood behind him, her fingers carefully resting against his back.

He was tense, trembling slightly but whether it was from the cold or the excitement she couldn't tell, ,,No one...none of these philistines listened, it led to nothing,” he finally said slowly as he turned to face her, the moon shining above him, the cold god watching over God's representation on earth.

The make-up on his face smudged, the golden light clothes wrinkled and not smooth and his blond hair completely disheveled. He did not have the madness of his brother, but as the sole ruler of an empire, such a burden lay heavily on him alone. ,,My husband, you know I couldn't be prouder, don't you?” she asked the superfluous question but knew he needed it.

The next moment he turned to her with a sigh and grasped her hands, she could see the watery eyes even in the faint moonlight, ,,The feelings are the same...but an emperor without his senate only with enemies and no support as it seems...is neither god nor man he is nothing” he finally spoke the truth and embraced her a little more strongly, slightly painfully and yet seeking help.

She understood him, understood him from the bottom of her heart, a pain, a helplessness she knew only too well.

Putting her hand on his cheek and looking at him for a moment, he entangled her in a kiss, she felt his hand at her side running over her hip, ,,Love you” she heard the murmured words as they broke away, as this wonderful fallen god looked at her so full of grace and love.

Her heart was bound with his as the brass rings made a soft muffled sound as their hands met again, the small smile on the god's lips as he looked at his love.

,,You are the most important thing to me and to Caracalla and I as your beloved swear to you that this will not be the end,” she assured him and saw the love that showed in the darkly painted eyes.

She saw him look away at Rome, the city behind him, his home and the empire that belonged to him, saw the nod, heard the intake of breath as he pulled her into another kiss. he may be destitute but he would never lose his family, his love, Geta knew that.

,,We'll show them together," he promised and led her next to him, leaving his hand linked with hers and seeming to promise her not only Rome, but the whole world, because together the imperial family of Rome would be able to do anything.

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

@potatoesenpaii , @thatnerdliv , @scorpiongirlsthings , @pxnx-kk

@the-a-word-2214 , @peakygirl1919 , @k-yurieee

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

NINE YEARS LATE

EDDIE MUNSON x F!READER

A yearly Halloween tradition, zombie films and best friends who touch too much for it to not mean anything. 4K of fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

When you met Eddie Munson at eleven years old, he pointed at your exorcist t-shirt and asked what your favourite horror movie was.

To anyone else it might have been strange, the way the boy's eyes were so bright, his expression caught between nervous and excited like nothing else at that time was more important than the answer you were about to give.

But you gave it with a shy grin and without hesitation, watching a little stunned as the boy brightened and his lips stretched wide into a beaming smile that, even then, left your heart warm and you completely powerless to resist the hand that circled your wrist and yanked you down onto the grass beside him.

He took a cookie from his lunchbox and pressed it into your hand, skin smudged with chocolate and pride in his voice when he told you how he had sneakily watched Night of the Living Dead when his uncle wasn't home and that was now his favourite.

You wrinkled your nose a little as you ate, unable to help the reaction because you didn't understand the zombie appeal, cheeks flushing when Eddie caught it too and threw both hands to his chest, his back hitting the ground with a thud as he flung himself down, like you'd personally betrayed everything he held dear.

"Don't tell me you don't like zombies!" He'd gasped in horror, struggling not to grin when he lifted himself up on his elbows and noticed, far too pleased, that despite the way you had hid your face in your hands, there was a telltale smile in your voice at his theatrics.

"I don't not like them exactly." You countered, eyes appearing above your fingers to watch the way the boy snorted and quirked a disbelieving brow in your direction before you allowed your hands to fall away, huffing. "I mean it! It's not that I hate them or anything, they just give me creeps."

He nodded at your shirt. "And demonic possession doesn't?"

"No?"

'Weirdo." He mumbled, voice soft, and then almost immediately winced, his eyes darting worriedly to yours because what if you didn't catch the way his tone turned fond as he said it? He didn't want you to think he was being mean like so many other kids were in Hawkins when someone wasn't like them.

But then you laughed, the sound clear and sweet, and there was relief in Eddie's chest mixed with a little awe, something innocently adoring because even though he would never admit it, he was pretty sure that was his new favourite sound in the whole world.

'Says the boy who thinks a zombie movie is the best horror." You teased, tongue poking out at him when he shook his head and aimed a playful little kick to your leg, scuffed trainers nudging at your thigh.

There was a moment of easy silence that followed, a few beats where the two of you shared soft, toothy grins before the boy ducked his head and you tipped yours back to gaze at the cloudy autumn sky, fingers twisting in the grass whilst joy swirled in your chests at this new found friendship.

It was impossible to miss the exact second he had the idea, the way he scrambled to sit upright, all long arms and gangly legs because even back then Eddie had been tall for his age. The grin that stretched his cheeks was wild, excitement crackling from him as he scooted closer until he was sat directly in front of you, knees brushing against yours.

"There's only one way to settle this." He blurted suddenly, pleased when your startled gaze turned instantly curious, body leaning forward to signal he had your full attention. "We have a movie marathon. You can come to mine and we can watch both of our favourites and maybe a few more and then we rank them."

You nodded slow, thoughtful , the sharp trill of the bell signalling the end of recess making you jump and Eddie groan. "Okay. That sounds fun. But what if we can't agree on what ranks first?"

Eddie rose ungracefully to his feet and you had to shield your eyes from the low burning sun when you looked up at him, light dousing him in gold that made his eyes look like pools of warm caramel when he grinned down at you and offered you his hand.

"Then we keep having marathons until we do."

**

Nine years later and you Eddie still hadn't agreed.

You were beginning to think you never would. Or maybe even if by some miracle you did, you still wouldn't tell the boy that had become your best friend the moment he'd asked you that question in the playground.

Because it had become your tradition now. These marathons that you had every October 1st without fail because that was the same date that you showed up at Eddie's door for the very first time, a box of cookies in your hand that your mom had sent you over with and a beaming smile that had matched his when he'd flung the door wide open and pulled you inside.

You weren't sure when it became your favourite day of the year or when Eddie became your favourite person but it did and so did he. Never happier than when you were surrounded by warm blankets with a hot chocolate cradled in your hands.

There was always plates piled with freshly baked goods on your laps, movies playing that you sometimes wouldn't remember the names of after and your face pressed to the boy's collarbone when things occasionally got too scary. His arm looped around your shoulder so he could murmur, soft and sweet, against your hair. "It's okay, it's nearly over."

You also weren't too sure when your feelings for your best friend began to change, only that they most definitely had.

He was still the same Eddie, your Eddie. He was big, warm eyes and startlingly pretty grins, an energy that made you think of bottled lightning, the kind you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, beautiful and utterly unruly.

He was all-encompassing hugs, tangled limbs in a too small bed when one of you stayed the night because even if you were to lay at the other end, the boy would somehow still find his way to you in his sleep, strong arms pulling you tight to his chest and a happy sigh on his lips.

But somewhere through the years, through the horrors that started on the screen where they should have stayed but then seemed to leech into your real lives, the familiar touches came more frequently and hands lingered long enough that it caused pulses to spike. Hugs got a little longer too, a little tighter.

There was a reluctance to let go when mornings came around, no longer shy or embarrassed when streams of pinkish gold filtered through the window and stirred you awake only to find the two of you were once again moulded around each other, fingers linked between your bodies.

Instead it felt right, like that was how you belonged. A Feeling that only grew with each year that passed.

Each October 1st that you refused any other plans because this was yours and Eddie's day. Every time you turned up to the other's homes, sitting a little too close on the couch than was considered friendly, eyes drifting to watch each other instead of whichever person was fighting for their lives on the tv when you thought you wouldn't get caught.

It grew, blooming wild and stubborn in your chest, snaking around each rib, until you were forced to admit to yourself that you were in love with him.

And that scared you more than any horror movie ever could.

**

"Sweetheart, you're supposed to be watching this, not hiding through the whole thing."

The admonishment in Eddie's voice was weak - too soft to be truly serious and even if you couldn't tell by the boy's tone, the way he grinned at you when you finally lowered your mug, with what he thought was the most adorable pout on your face, immediately gave him away.

It made you poke your toes into his jean clad thigh in retaliation, a choking gasp of faux betrayal bubbling past your lips when he caught at your ankle and tickled your foot with quick fingers before you could yank it back under the safety of the blanket he'd thrown over you earlier.

You were a lot less mad than you would have been had it been anyone else and christ if Eddie didn't know it, his eyes bright even in the low flickering light of the room and the pillow of his lower lip caught between his teeth to choke down a laugh as he threateningly wriggled his fingers at you once again.

Glaring at the boy across from you, there was a half hearted grumble to your voice when you aimed a nod towards the person being ripped apart by the undead horde on the screen and told him. "You know this wouldn't be a problem if you didn't bring a zombie movie nearly every year."

The noise he made in response told you that wasn't going to happen. But as he leant forward, stretching over to the coffee table to grab a cookie that he then practically inhaled, you could feel his eyes on you. The way he was silently checking if you actually thought the movie was too much or if you were just playing up because you liked to mess with him.

"You want me to turn it off? We could put the next movie on?" He asked in the way he always did, a little teasing but still sweet, touched with hope because you both knew what he would ask next when you shook your head, determined like you always were to sit through the movie just because Eddie loved it.

And you tried to not let it show on your face the way your heart fluttered and swooped in the cage your ribs when he opened his arms the moment you gave your answer, looking far more enticing than you thought a best friend ever should.

All wrapped in a large sweater with sleeves that drooped over his ringed fingers, cosy blankets tossed over his lap and curls still messy from the weather outside.

It really was unfair just how fucking pretty Eddie was.

"Wanna come here?" He murmured in a way that made your cheeks warm, your pulse jumping from fear that he'd caught the way you were staring and his lips tugging up into a soft grin when he added. "Promise I'll keep you safe from zombies."

You narrowed your eyes like it was an offer that you needed to consider - something that took a ridiculous effort considering how badly you suddenly ached to fall into the boy.

In return he rolled his own at the suspicious gaze that you flicked over him - from his fondly exasperated expression to the hands that made impatient little grabbing motions whilst you fought back a smile and warned. "Only if you don't tickle me again."

There was a soft snort when he laughed, grin turning impish as he took matters into his own hands and reached over to pluck your mug from your fingers, placing it on the table before catching you in a gentle grip. "I swear on Dustin's mother I won't tickle you again. Now c'mere."

And so you went - with a shake of your head to hide your smile, you let yourself be pulled into him.

Desperately trying to ignore the way your skin buzzed beneath his touch as he lifted the blanket and folded you tight into his side, waiting for you to throw your arm around his waist and swing your legs over his lap until there was no part of you left that wasn't pressed up against him.

He looked like he was trying and failing to hide how pleased he was as he drew the blanket over the two of you and you all but melted in his arms. Corners of his lips quirking and a soft dusting of pink creeping over his cheeks when his hand automatically began stroking over your hair and you let slip a quiet little sound that was half sigh, half moan - his body still burning despite the innocence of it.

For a little while after that an easy silence fell over you both, a sense of contentment that couldn't be broken by the sounds of gore that came from the screen.

Eddie smelt like Autumn with every slow inhale you took, like cold, night air and smoke, spice from the cologne you bought him two birthdays ago and the cinnamon off the pastries you'd baked especially for that night that he'd almost completely devoured within half an hour of sitting down.

He was warm in a way that felt like safety when he wrapped you up in him like this and it was all too easy to forget how much the movie had previously made your stomach turn slightly. Now barely even batting an eye when somebody screamed because you were too happy being lulled by the rise and fall of Eddie's chest beneath your cheek and the weight of his head rested atop of your own.

You watched the screen with an almost foggy type of interest. A little dazed by the hand that had previously been playing with your hair now slipping down, fingers dancing over the nape of your neck and down your spine to where it eventually stopped. Palm moulded flat to the dip in your back - the heat of it searing through your shirt.

His other hand was curved around your knee - thumb stroking soft circles on the inside that made a tremor sweep over your skin.

It took you far too long to realise when he eventually spoke, oblivious to his smile, the question he pressed to your hair at your shiver, until your trance was broken by the rumble of a soft laugh when a beat too long passed without any response.

Gentle fingers that had previously been resting on your knee were now hooking beneath your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his as he dipped his head to look at you in a way that made your mouth run dry.

"Still with me there sweetheart?" He asked. Voice low, hushed, a little rougher and less teasing than you think he had intended it to be.

And suddenly the room felt a little warmer than before, an electricity present that crackled in the limited space between your bodies.

You swallowed hard, stomach twisting, the sounds of horror in the background fading to a mere hum as you nodded. Your breath hitched when your nose brushed his but you made no move to pull back and if the boy heard it, he didn't say anything. "M'here." You whispered. "What- what did you say?"

In the near-dark you watched him bite back a strained smile, curls bouncing as he shook his head ever so slightly, not at you, but at the way he suddenly felt tongue tied. Frozen with his fingers still cupping your chin and his mind alarmingly blank because you were just so close and fuck, what was it that he'd said again?

"I uh," He stumbled, words a little awkward as he attempted to subtly clear his throat." I was just wondering how you can't watch a zombie movie without hiding behind me, which to be clear, I am not complaining about , but when we got attacked by demon bats you were totally fucking fearless."

You felt flushed at how awestruck he sounded, gaze lowering and your hand coming to clasp his wrist, touch gentle on the scars that only recently healed there. "I was hardly fearless Eds." You muttered.

But the boy was already tutting, an argument ready on his tongue before you could finish your dismissal.

"Babe, I watched you decapitate one of those things with an oar like it was nothing." He grinned, feeling a little more daring as he grazed his thumb just below your lip, eyes dark on you as your lashes fluttered and you swayed further into the touch. "It was the most metal thing I've ever seen, maybe the hottest too."

He added the last part like a whisper and maybe it was the way you felt too fuzzy, not quite connected to your brain - a little too lovesick and touch-drunk from the way Eddie was surrounding you. The words that set your blood alight.

Or maybe it was just that the credits were rolling on a movie the two of you had barely watched because you'd been too focused on each other, the room falling into the type of darkness that made you a little less afraid of giving away your feelings for the boy.

But you found yourself telling him, unflinchingly honest and without a second thought. "I was only like that because they tried to hurt you, I was beyond terrified until then."

"Is that so?" Eddie mused. He was beaming like you'd just said the best thing he'd ever heard, like having proof of you being murderous at the idea of him being hurt was enough to light the boy up from the inside and make his features glow with a new softness.

You only hummed in response, heart suddenly in your throat, pulse fluttering wildly and you briefly wondered if Eddie could feel it when his hand slipped along your jaw. Thumb teasing along the edge and fingers warm on your neck.

"So if we ever got attacked by an undead horde instead of bats and cat-eating lizards?"

You laughed, shrugging. "Then I guess I'm beheading some zombies."

It was meant to be a light comment but it made the air around you grow heavy, like you couldn't move away even if your life depended on it, when he pressed his forehead to yours with a little theatrical groan.

The way his eyes bore into yours under the dark fringe of his lashes making you breath catch, lungs tight when he teased. "Careful babe, with that kind of talk I might think you're trying to make me fall in love with you."

You don't know what possessed you, the words spilt passed your lips before you could catch them.

"What if I was?"

You felt more than heard the sharp inhale of his breath, the way he froze beneath you, slack-jawed, eyes wide and searching like he was nervous of the possibility you'd suddenly laugh and tell him you were only joking.

But then he seemed to find something in the shyness of your own gaze that made his turn bold, his hand on your back pressing you that little bit firmer against him as he shifted to turn into you fully.

The smile tugging at his lips was one you'd never seen before, the type he only ever gave when he was sure you weren't looking because there was no doubt in his mind that every ounce of love he had for you was written all over his face.

And Eddie swallowed hard before he spoke, his voice shot, affection flooding through the cracks, whilst he bumped his nose to yours. "Then I'd say you're about nine years too late."

Oh.

Wait-

You made a choked sound of surprise as you jerked back to look at him, stunned, fingers curling tight into his jumper and the warm skin of his wrist so you could steady yourself.

"Nine years?" You repeated, feeling dumbstruck whilst Eddie laughed.

But then he was cupping your cheeks with both hands, drawing you back to him with a grin that was all dimples and soft honey eyes and it felt like your heart would burst in your chest when the moment he was confident he had your full attention, he told you. "Sweetheart, I was a goner from the moment you showed up on my doorstep."

"Oh."

It felt like you'd been utterly floored.

It hit you that through all the years that you'd been in love with your best friend you had never truly considered a reality where he felt the same, and now you had no clue how to react.

However you were suddenly, painfully aware of all the times where you'd ached to touch him in a way that you'd then had to remind yourself wasn't allowed, all the time you could have spent learning what his lips felt like on yours, how he tasted. How long you could have called him yours if you both hadn't been so scared.

It felt like a crime to let it go on any longer.

"Eddie?" You whispered, nerves like a champagne fizz in your belly that then spread all the way to your fingers and toes as your eyes fluttered closed at his breath on your lips.

You could smell cinnamon and smoke, a hint of mint underneath, and god, you'd never craved something so bad as you did him.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

He sounded no better than you - voice hoarse - a little wrecked. Thumbs digging into the hinges of your jaw like he was desperate to keep you anchored to him as he waited with baited breath for you to ask.

"Can I kiss you?"

His mouth was on yours before you could finish.

Soft and sweet at first despite the energy you could practically feel thrumming beneath his skin. You swallowed the groan that almost immediately slipped from his throat, both hands coming up to clutch at his wrists as he tugged you closer, tilting your jaw so he could deepen the kiss - lips sliding over yours again and again as you clung to him.

When you parted, it was only for a handful of seconds. A beat to catch your breath, to stare at each other like you couldn't believe this was finally happening. But then you caught sight of Eddie, eyes burning dark and hooded, lips swollen with your kisses, and it already felt like far too long.

Clearly Eddie felt the same.

The kiss became demanding when you crashed back together, greedy lips and greedy hands, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before hungrily licking into your mouth. And then you were being pulled onto his lap, soft thighs falling open for him to fit beneath you and the prettiest moan you'd ever heard coming from the boy as your hips settled flush over his.

You gasped against him, a desperate noise that sent heat rushing to your cheeks, when his hand slipped under your shirt to grip your waist. Dizzy at the contrast of cold rings and warm fingers that were gently neading your skin, making you melt further into him than you thought possible.

It made him grip you that little bit harder, squeeze a little tighter to see if you'd make the same sweet sound for him again and Eddie felt like he'd go wild when you did. Like he could lose himself right there and then, with your fingers buried in his curls and your mouth hot on his, because you were all he could think about, see, hear and smell.

He was drowning in you and if you asked anything of him in this moment you can be damn sure that he'd do it in a fucking heartbeat if it meant you'd continue looking at him the way you were when your lips finally parted and you swayed back.

You were all soft smiles and slightly glassy eyed - a bit drunk on the way your best friend had kissed you like he would die if he didn't - and he couldn't resist stealing another, a second and then a third. Quick and a little clumsy because Eddie was smiling too.

There was so much warmth in your chest it felt like you could burst with it. All the emotions and feelings for the boy that you'd buried for so long now free to bloom wild and unhindered in the spaces between your ribs.

You couldn't help the bubble of laughter that poured past your lips, grinning so hard it hurt as he pressed his forehead to yours, thumbs stroking circles over your sides whilst he tried to pull you even closer.

'Strange." You mumbled, soft and a little drawn out like you were just waiting for him to ask.

He didn't let you wait long, nose brushing yours, heart-achingly indulgent.

"What is?"

"I think I've changed my mind about zombie movies, maybe they're not so bad after all."

[lovegalor333]

lord please save her for me

paige bueckers x fem oc

hello! welcome to my new fic, i hope u like it! please let me know what y’all think, i have each chapter planned out but i’m not sure when i’ll update again. probably soon lmao 💋👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🪽🌟

chapter one:

leni knew the first time she saw paige again it would feel like a kick in the stomach but to say she felt winded was an understatement. the sight in front of her had her breath stuck in her throat, heart beating out of her chest and her head spinning, she had to rest on the wall to balance herself. it wasn’t out of character for paige to be here. it was frat party at the beginning of the semester. paige was almost guaranteed to be here. but leni would have betted her life that the blonde would’ve come with her friends not the red head, wearing barely any clothes that was latched onto her arm currently.

“you good babe?” leni’s girlfriend, riley asks from beside her. she reached out a hand to rest on lenis back but the curly haired girl shrugged her off, “im fine. just feeling hot. can you get me some water?” leni asks in hopes to have a moment alone with her thoughts to process what she just saw. paige with a girl that wasn’t her. her paige with a girl that looked nothing like her.

despite having a girlfriend herself, leni was far from a hypocrite. a year ago leni was bearing her heart, all but begging paige to turn thier friends with benefits deal into something more serious. they already spent evenings laid together in bed. weekends walking around target or studying together. off days lounging around each others apartments. they were only fucking each other too. what would a title change? apparently a lot to paige.

leni tried for days but paige could not be swayed, shaking her head and furrowing her brow each time leni brought up the idea of them being girlfriends.

“i just don’t do that kind of thing len.”

“what we have right now is good. why change it?”

“i’m focused on basketball, i don’t need distractions.”

leni reached her breaking point, telling paige it was either they make it official or they never see each other again. she couldn’t continue in ‘will they, won’t they’ cycle. leni had caught feelings for paige. feelings so deep she wanted to shout it from the rooftops and it felt like her entire world crashed down when paige said it was best if they didn’t see each other again.

leni cried for days on end. buried under her duvet, waiting and wishing for paige to call or text and say she was wrong. to say she cared for leni they way leni cared for her. but no call or text came and eventually leni had to pick herself up and dust herself off. life doesn’t end when a blue eyed girl breaks your heart.

paige saw leni as soon as she walked in. of course she did. paige would spot leni in a sea of a thousand people. her bouncy curls, longer than the last time paige saw them, her brown skin, still showing the remnants of summer, her dark brown eyes, deep as ever as they flitted around the room. paige also saw the blonde girl next to leni, the way her hand touched her back, the way her lips pressed to lenis temple. paige wanted to punch that girl right in the face.

“where are you going?” camilla, paiges girlfriend asks as paige begins to walk away from her, “just to find a toilet. i won’t be long.” paige lies and she hurries off before camilla can say anything in response. paige wasn’t going to find a toilet. paige was going to find leni and she knew exactly where she would be.

“let me guess. you needed some fresh air.” hearing paiges voice made lenis hairs stand on end. she hadn’t heard that raspy drawl in so long she had forgotten what it sounded like. “you never did like parties.” paige says standing next to leni on the front porch. leni refused to look at paige, staring straight ahead, she focused on a street lamp in the distance that flickered. “i still don’t.” she says and in her head, her voice was strong and brave but her lips betrayed her and her words came out shaky and low.

“why are you here then?” paige asks, ever the curious girl. “i came with my g- a fri-” leni couldn’t bring herself to say the word girlfriend to paige. it was stuck in her throat threatening to choke her. “your girlfriend. you can say it len. you came with your girlfriend.”

“yeah. i did. i came with my girlfriend. looks like you did too. never knew red heads were your thing.” leni all but spits at paige, finally building the courage to look at her. and when she does, the past twelve months of healing and moving on completely unravel and leni feels as though she about to faint.

paige looks the same but simultaneously so different. her hair is still blonde but it’s shorter and a lot brighter, like she’s just had highlights. her skin looks smoother, in fact she’s glowing. leni was sure she’d grown a few inches too, paige was always taller than her but not this much taller. and as bad as leni was trying not to look, it was clear paige had been in the gym. the crop top she wore exposed her toned stomach and muscular arms and leni’s heart rate quickened as memories of those very arms being wrapped around her not so long ago flashed in her mind.

“are blondes your thing or just girls that look like me?” paige retorts and leni scoffs, “get your head out of your ass paige. girls that don’t treat me like i’m nothing is my thing.” paige feels limp as leni says that, did she really make leni think she was nothing?

paige had a difficult time with relationships. she branded herself as ‘not a relationship girl’, blaming her focus on basketball as the reason but paige knew that was bullshit. paige wanted nothing more than to have a girl in the stands cheering for her, to come home after practice and her bedroom not be empty but growing up all paige knew was turbulent relationships and broken homes and she vowed to never hurt someone the way she watched her parents hurt each other. and the only way she knew how to do that was to avoid relationships altogether.

“you weren’t nothing to me, len.” paige defends herself but it feels pointless, lenis feelings were written on her face, she always found it hard to mask her emotions and nothing had changed.

“i’m sorry. what i did wasn’t fair. i was stupid, so fucking stupid. letting you go-” leni couldn’t hear this. not here, not now. not ever actually. leni had gone through hell and back trying to get over paige, just ask her friends who had hugged her while she sobbed, forced her eat when she refused, literally picked her up off the floor multiple nights in a row after she drank enough wine to make her forget paige ever existed.

“paige, stop. this conversation is futile and one year too late.” leni holds her hand up to stop paige from saying anymore. to stop her from saying the words she was begging to hear last year.

“i’ve changed len. i promise. i tried so hard, i worked so hard to change for you. i want to show you that.”

“have you lost your fucking mind? i have a girlfriend paige and so do you. i’m happy. someone loves me, cares for me and it’s not a secret. it’s not behind closed doors. i’m someone’s girlfriend and they’re proud of that. and it’s fucked up of you to say all this stuff now, all this time later. i wasn’t enough for you and that ripped my fucking heart to pieces!”

“you were enough. you are enough. i was just blind and scared.”

leni was fighting the tears that threatened to spill, she didn’t want to cry in front of paige, give her the satisfaction of knowing she still affected leni.

paige couldn’t bare to see leni cry, the way her eyes glossed over and nose turned red, the way her lip quivered made paiges heart pang with guilt because after all, she was the reason leni was crying. “please don’t cry. i meant what i said. i really am sorry. and i know it’s complicated but i couldn’t not tell you this. i couldn’t not at least try it would feel like i’m robbing us of a chance.”

leni has averted her gaze again, there was something about holding eye contact with paige that felt like two hands around her neck squeezing every last breath out of her. it was suffocating and all consuming. when she was around paige, leni didn’t feel like she was in the same realm as everyone else, she felt transported to somewhere far away but she had to bring herself back down to earth before she did or said something she regretted.

“a year ago you looked me in my eyes and said it would be for the best if we never saw each other again and you were right paige. i shouldn’t have come to this stupid party and you shouldn’t have followed me out here. from now on, we go back to how it was before. you don’t know me. i don’t know you.”

“but i do know you len and you know me. so well.” paige does what she’s been dying to do since stepping outside with leni and she reaches out and touches her cheek. wiping a stray tear but her hand lingers and lenis eyes flutter closed at the feeling of paige. a feeling she’s craved for so long now, a feeling she’s dreamt about experiencing again.

paige has always felt a magnetic pull towards leni. the first time she met her, she was intrigued. she wanted to know more about the dark, curly haired girl. they sat for hours the first time they spoke then they ended up in paiges bed and paige got her wish of knowing more about leni. she knew leni so well it was as if she’d studied her. she knew what made her tick, how push her buttons, how to make her feel good. paige could read leni like a book, answering her questions before leni even asked them. that’s not what scared paige though. she knew she could control her feelings. what scared paige was the fact leni knew her in the same way. if paige bueckers was a book, leni had every word committed to memory.

leni placed her hand over paiges, still cupping her face, “paige, i can’t-” she begins to speak but paige cuts her off. “tell me you love her more than me. tell me what you have feels realer than what we had. tell me that and i’ll leave you alone.”

leni couldn’t say that. she couldn’t say any of it because it wasn’t true. she’s never loved anyone the way she loves paige and she doubts she ever will. but leni needed to protect herself. paige hurt her and leni couldn’t cope with that again and she had no reason to believe paige when she said she’d changed.

“don’t do that.” leni says looking at paige, her eyes as blue as ever, round and soft, pulling leni in. “don’t make this my decision. you walked away from me.”

“and it was the biggest mistake of my life.” paige says, eyes flicking down to lenis lips. she wanted to kiss her so bad. push her up against the wall, press her body into hers, one hand on her hip, the other in her hair. she wanted their lips to be on each other’s, she wanted to taste lenis cherry lip balm, tongues moving in sync as they meshed into one being.

“a mistake you’ll have to live with. i care about myself too much to risk being destroyed by the whirlwind that comes along with you paige.” lenis voice breaks as she turns away from paige as much as she believed paige was the reason they never worked out, she couldn’t help but feel like she walking away from what she’s always wanted.

“leni please-” paiges voice also faltered as she tried to pull leni back but the girl was strong and determined, “goodbye, paige.”

leni had no time to ruminate over the conversation and just about managed to wipe her tear stained cheeks before riley appeared in front of her.

“there you are! i got your water. who were you talking to out there?”

“no one. no one at all. let’s go dance.” leni says, plastering the fakest of smiles on her face. she didn’t worry that riley would notice because riley rarely noticed anything.

leni spent the rest of the night knocking back drinks and willing herself to stop glancing at paige but it was near impossible. the six foot, one hundred and sixty pound girl was alluring to say the least and with her also staring back, leni was beginning to lose composure.

“kiss me.” leni asserts, grabbing on to rileys shirt collar, pulling her down. riley looks confused but she would never deny kissing her beautiful girlfriend so she presses their lips together, leni deepens the kiss, her tongue slipping into rileys mouth but it’s not right. it doesn’t feel right. it’s not paige. and that makes leni feel sick. she’ll never kiss paige again and she’ll search for her in every girl but it’ll be pointless because no one could compare. no one could even come close.

now breathless from a phoney, drunken make out session that left nothing but the sour taste of beer in her mouth, leni pulls away from riley but her eyes immediately go to where paige was stood just minutes ago. but the athlete is gone. the only sign of her once being there was her girlfriend, now left holding two drinks. “i’m going to the bathroom.” leni mumbles and she slips away from riley, leaving her too, with a drink in each hand.

the multiple drinks leni had consumed in quick succession were catching up to her and her body swayed as she walked around the frat house looking for paige. she swung open random doors, bursting in on one too many explicit activities that she wish she never saw. “sorry, my bad.” she muttered quickly closing another door. she continued her search and by the time she reached the end of the hall, with no sign of paige, she actually needed to pee.

the bathroom was occupied but leni couldn’t wait, she knocked on the door over and over, “if you’re in there fucking, get out! i’m about to piss my pants!” she shouted over the music and she heard the lock click before the door slowly opened, “you never were very patient.” paige emerged from the bathroom and leni felt like this was fate. “i was looking for you.” she slurred, glancing up at paige. “you were?” leni nods, her eyes are glassy from intoxication, “i hate you for hurting me.” leni mutters but her actions do not resemble hate, they are needy and frantic as she pushes paige backwards into the bathroom, knocking the door closed with her foot.

“you hate me?” paige asks, hearing those words hurt but feeling lenis touch on her chest as she shoved her against the wall overrode any of that. “uh huh.” leni nods again, her hand now travelling down paiges chest and gripping her waist. “how much do you hate me?” paige tucks a piece of lenis hair behind her ear and leni leans into the touch, “so fucking much.” lenis breathing is ragged now as she pushes herself against paige, the craving she had for this woman was carnal and she doesn’t know how she managed to stay away from her for an entire year.

“you know im sorry. im different now len. hurting you is my biggest regret.” paige caresses lenis cheek, rubbing her thumb in small circles, she missed the feeling of her soft skin under her fingertips, “and this might just be mine.” leni says as she stands on her tiptoes to reach paige, crashing their lips together for the first time in over three hundred and sixty five days.

the kiss is sloppy and heated and influenced by the copious amounts of alcohol both girls had in their systems. paiges hands found lenis waist and she moaned into her mouth as her fingers explored every dip and curve on her body. leni felt like she was drowning and paige was air, she needed as much as she could get, nipping at paiges bottom lip before slipping her tongue into her mouth, saliva mixing to create the concoction that both girls missed so much.

“leni, are you in there?” there was a knock at the door and the voice of riley made leni jump away from paige, “it’s riley.” she whispered, eyes wide, “just be quiet.” paige whispered back. “leni?” rileys voice called out again and leni was violently brought back down to earth.

what the hell was she doing? in a frat house bathroom with her ex friend with benefits, kissing her when she had a girlfriend. when they both had girlfriends. this wasn’t leni. it wasn’t who she was and she wouldn’t hurt someone. she wouldn’t allow herself to.

“no. this was a mistake. we’re drunk.” leni fixed her appearance in the mirror, smoothing down her tossled curls that paige had messed up, wiping the smudged lip liner from her cupids bow and re-adjusting her shirt that had been pulled down exposing the lace of her bra.

paige watched her silently, blue eyes several shades darker as they glared into the mirror at lenis reflection. leni caught her gaze and for a split second she considered listening to paige and staying silent but riley called out her name again, “im coming!” leni responded and without so much as a glance at paige she unlocked the bathroom door and closed it tight behind her. leaving paige alone and confused, wondering what the fuck just happened.

thank you for reading baddies!! let me know if you want to be added to my tag list for future updates. ILY 💋💋

tag list: @heart4caitlin @jadasogay @avvwritesstufff @bueckersp

story info

[seongieluvr]

your sunghoon anal scenario 🧍🏻‍♀️ I’m thinking

okay I got a lil carried away but I hope you enjoy <3

— cw ; anal, oral (f rec), sunghoon is kinda mean but not really, slight ass eating, spit, degradation, praise, pet names, I think that's it

walk with me here for a bit...sunghoon looooves fucking you, like he's convinced there is no better feeling in the world than your cunt wrapped around his cock. and it pacifies him and his high sex drive, but you need more. and so you suggest anal to him.

and at first, he shuts down the idea. he doesn't think it'll feel good for either of you, plus he's super scared of accidentally hurting you and he would never be able to come back from that, knowing he hurt the only thing he's ever really loved.

but after enough coaxing, he is willing to try it, if it means it'll make his baby happy.

and that's how his new obsession starts. the first time he fucks your ass, it's awkward and uncomfortable, but once you both get used to the feeling...he hates that he denied him and you of this for so long.

he almost always wants to fuck your ass, he would never tell you, but he thinks he almost prefers it over fucking your pussy.

he loses his fucking mind when your face is squished into the pillows and your ass is the air, cunt dripping from your first orgasm and his spit from him eating you out just moments before.

"you look so fucking pathetic like this," he growls. he grabs one of your asscheeks and gawks at your tight hole. "literally begging for me to fuck your ass like a fucking whore." he collects a wad of spit before letting it slip for his mouth and onto your hole before rubbing the head of his cock between your folds, collecting your arousal.

he presses his tip to the tight ring and you whine, moving your hips back to gain any kind of friction to your neglected hole. "ah, ah, not so fast, doll." he coos. "are you really this needy? I haven't even properly fucked you yet, yeah?"

you look up at your boyfriend through teary lashes, unable to form any coherent sentence or words. all you knew was sunghoon, and you were going insane that you were being deprived of the one thing you needed most.

"p-please, hoon..." you cry, drool dribbling down your chin and onto the pillows.

"please what, angel? you gotta use your big girl words to get what you want, you know this." he replies, sliding his cock between your cheeks, making a mess of spit and cum.

"fuck me...please. please, fuck my ass...I promise to be good." you whine, tears forming on your waterline.

sunghoon smirks devilishly, a tiny fang poking between his lips. "aren't you just so precious..." he takes his free hand and smoothes your hair from your face. "and who am I to deny such an obedient little anal whore?"

he presses his tip into your hole and hisses, his bottom lip going between his teeth. "fuck, doll...how are you still so fucking tight?"

you moan into the pillows as he stuffs your ass full of his thick cock, feeling every single inch going deeper and deeper until he is fully sheathed inside you.

sunghoon groans when he bottoms out in you and doesn't give you much time to adjust to him before he's pulling out to the tip just to slam back into you.

"such a sweet little angel, aren't ya? lettin' me use your ass like this...letting me mold you to the shape of my cock, knowing no one will ever fuck you the way I do." he spits as he thrusts in and out of you, his heavy balls slapping against your cunt.

your mind is blank and your pussy clenches on nothing. all you want is to cum and for sunghoon to cum in you. "h-hoonie..." you murmur. "p-please fill my ass..."

sunghoon laughs lowly at your plea. "already planned on it, doll."

it didn't take many more thrusts from sunghoon for you to feel the coil in your stomach on the verge of breaking. "'m close, hoon."

"fuck, me too, baby." he grunts as he slips back into your hole. "god, you take me so well...such a good little doll for me..."

the coil breaks and your coming around nothing, feeling it drip out of your cunt and onto your thighs, whining sunghoon's name over and over like a mantra, like it's the only word you know. and right now, it is.

"gonna cum in this tight little ass, fill you up and watch it spill out..." sunghoon pants, and with another thrust, you feel thick ropes paint your walls. he stills inside you, making sure not a single drop spills out before he wants.

he pulls his softening cock out and watches as his cum dribbles out and onto your cunt. he smiles proudly to himself before leaning down and licking a fat stripe up your cunt and to your spent hole, humming at the tastes of you and himself.

you sigh blissfully as sunghoon laps at your cunt and ass, letting him do as he pleases.

"you're so perfect, you know that? my pretty little whore."

[sweetkpopmusings]

heart-fluttering moments with ateez <3

a/n: trying to clear through my very long list of drafts/ideas, and i desperately needed to write some more for ateez. hopefully these give you a nice little boost of serotonin (even if they propel you into your feelings, as they did to me) <3 pics not mine~

content: fluff, can be read as nonidol!ateez | wc: 1.4k | warnings: none really! | pairing: ateez x gn!reader | requests: open

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

seonghwa♡‧₊˚

when he says your name. 

seonghwa, always eager to catch your attention, had plenty of nicknames for you. you loved each and every one of them because, on top of classics like love and darling, he crafted special ones for you and only you. when he really wanted your attention, though, he said your name. whenever he called out to you, you’d be met by his big, sparkling eyes. his voice was always a sweet coo when he said your name, like it was his favorite word in the universe. seonghwa adored the way your whole body responded to him, alight with affection, whenever he called out to you. you never felt more like yourself than with seonghwa, and all it took to make you feel like the only person in the world was him saying my y/n~~ if only you knew that seonghwa folded twice as hard whenever you said his name. one day, maybe soon, he’d tell you his name never sounded perfect until he heard it in your voice.

hongjoong♡‧₊˚

when you tell him about your day.

hongjoong, though subtle about it, was completely and utterly enamored by you. he was not one for grand romantic gestures. he would partake in these on special occasions, particularly if you were fond of them or at least got a good laugh out of it. hongjoong, however, preferred to express his love for you through everyday actions. in particular, hongjoong loved nothing more than asking you how was your day, my love? he could happily sit there for hours, cherishing the way your voice engulfed him. he’d smile brightly, eyes locked on yours, listening intently to every word you said. if you ever felt as though you were talking too much, hongjoong would insist that his favorite part of the day was talking to you. inevitably flustered by his casual confession, he’d tease you playfully, quickly asking you to tell him more and more because he can never get enough of you.

yunho♡‧₊˚

when he tells you stories.

yunho thought about you constantly. while he was too shy to confess this unless you two were feeling extra soft for each other, it was clear to everyone around yunho that you were always on his mind. everyday, yunho would make mental notes of things he wanted to tell you. sometimes, if a day was full of anecdotes he knew you’d love, he’d actually write them down on his phone, a list full of nonsensical reminders of how he saw you in everything. as soon as he could get to you, yunho would reenact every funny moment just to hear you laugh. his heart soared whenever you called him ridiculous after a dramatic retelling of an almost unbelievable story. you thought this was how yunho was with everyone, until, when speaking with other members, you joked about a story no one else had heard before. yunho explained it to them, but not as energetically as he did for you. this was the moment you realized that he was your storyteller. yunho made you feel special in every way, and this special habit of his was no exception. you were, after all, his favorite audience.

yeosang♡‧₊˚

when he remembers.

yeosang is more often than not on his own plane of existence. his mind is one of a kind, and you are frequently entertained by the way he thinks, especially when it takes your conversations and ideas into entirely new territory. despite being a little “airheaded” sometimes, yeosang never forgot a thing when it came to you. he would remind you to restock groceries–somehow he always remembered exactly which items you tended to forget–and he always asked you about upcoming plans he knew you were excited about. one time, when he asked you about an event that you had only mentioned once months prior, you joked that it felt like he was your personal assistant. yeosang, smiling, said i might as well be. i keep a calendar of your life in my head all the time. you laughed because it sounded ridiculous, but the look in his eyes revealed that this was not a joke. when you asked him why, he answered i never want to miss a thing about you. 

san♡‧₊˚

when he tells you how much you mean to him.

san’s heart was undoubtedly the biggest on the planet. his love was generous and open, never letting anyone feel anything but their best. in san’s eyes, however, your heart was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, and he was honored every day to have a place in it. his terms of endearment for you always reflected how much he adored you: my angel, my star, my world, and so on. san didn’t stop there. on nights he was feeling especially soft for you, san would melt your heart with the sweetest words of adoration. after laughing at your joke, he’d smile widely and say no one makes me laugh like you do. you are so special. before saying goodbye on the phone, san would sigh contentedly, asking you to promise him that you’d never forget how much you mean to him. of course, you promise him, because you would promise him everything. you can hear the joyful look on his face as he says my y/n, you are more precious to me than you’ll ever know. 

mingi♡‧₊˚

when he carries things for you.

mingi was everyone’s princess, including yours. mingi, however, did not think it was fair that only he got the princess treatment in your relationship. he loved when you took care of him, all blushed cheeks and giggles and butterflies in his stomach. what made him feel on top of the world, though, was reciprocating your kindness and care. his heart almost burst out of his chest every time you smiled and said thank you. mingi thought there was no greater honor than being helpful to you. you changed so much of his life and him for the better. he wasn’t quite sure how to express that gratitude and amazement, so he figured the least he could do is carry your groceries, lift heavy objects, or hold every item as you shopped through your favorite stores. any time you asked if he wanted help, even if he was struggling to balance himself, he’d deny it. if you pushed back, saying you could carry things too, he’d look at you with a small pout and shining eyes and ask, shouldn’t i be the one who takes the weight off your shoulders? from that moment on, you let him carry whatever he wanted.

wooyoung♡‧₊˚ 

when he thinks of you first.

wooyoung never, ever shied away from showing his affection toward you. he’d compliment you endlessly, tease you to make you laugh, buy you thoughtful little gifts, and overall make you feel special. you were his beloved, after all. a habit wooyoung developed as you became an even bigger part of his life was thinking of you first, always. it was instinctive and subtle, but it reflected just how deeply wooyoung cared for and cherished you. he would hand you a water before you even realized you were thirsty. he’d bring your coat to you as you stepped out the door because he knew it was cold outside. he’d cover corners and guide you through tight spaces so you never got hurt. when deciding on something, he would ask for your thoughts on it, giving you his undivided attention as you spoke. wooyoung didn’t even notice that he did this, until you thanked him one day for always being so caring. he shrugged, failing to bite back a heartwarming smile, and told you no need to thank me. caring for you is my favorite thing to do. 

jongho♡‧₊˚

when he acts silly.

jongho did not take long to show off his silly side to you. from early on in your relationship, he felt so safe around you. to jongho, it was very clear that you were his person. this mean that he felt like he could truly be himself, so long as you were with him. as he grew more and more comfortable with you, he acted goofier. jongho loved to see you laugh, and his favorite sound was your laughs mixed together. he always fell into a giggling fit whenever you joked around with him too. he adorees how silly you can get because, in his mind, it is even more proof that you two are on the same wavelength. whenever he is laughing with you, jongho feels at home in a world only shared with you. everyone who knows jongho can always tell when he has been with you because he is brighter. you give him energy, even on his most exhausting or difficult days. there is a reason jongho always calls you my happiness. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[starkeyslibrary]

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 4

pairing: you x drew starkey

authors note: first off, I want to apologize for the delay in getting Part 4 to you. the flu hit me hard, and while I’m feeling better now, I’m still not 100%. Today’s been one of the better days, so I’m happy to finally share this with you! also, for all the new readers joining this series (welcome!), a quick note about the taglist: If you’d like to be added, please send me a message instead of commenting under posts. my notifications can get a little wild sometimes, and I don’t want to miss anyone’s request. Enjoy!

It had been a couple of days since the paparazzi had caught you. The pictures of you crying alone in the street made their rounds through the tabloids. Headlines blared across every news outlet: “Y/N Heartbroken: Tears on the Streets After Split with Drew Starkey”. You couldn’t escape them – everywhere you went, there were reminders of how vulnerable you had been, how much you were hurting. You had tried to fight it, tried to keep up a front. But the pictures, the emotional rawness, had taken a toll.

Your phone buzzed incessantly with notifications, and Drew’s name popped up more than you cared to count. The text messages, the calls, the voicemails – he was reaching out, desperate to fix what he had broken. You could feel the weight of his messages pressing down on you, each one pulling at the strings of your broken heart.

Drew’s text:

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please let me see you.”

“I didn’t mean this to happen. I miss you so much.”

“Can we please talk? I hate seeing you like this.”

You stared at the screen, your fingers hovering over the keys, but you couldn't bring yourself to reply. Every time you thought about responding, all you could see was that night – his absence, his lies, the way he had been with Odessa, and the emotional toll it was taking on you. The tears had fallen freely and now, in the cold light of day, they felt like a public spectacle. And that hurt.

Your friends were your saving grace during this time. Madelyn had taken you in the moment she found out about the photos. You spent long nights at her apartment, binge-watching shows and talking about everything and nothing. It was a distraction you needed, but even then, your thoughts kept circling back to Drew.

Madelyn was a good friend, she knew how to give space when you needed it but also to push you when you were being too hard on yourself. “Y/N, you can’t keep torturing yourself like this,” she told you one evening, as you both sat together on her couch, a glass of wine in hand. “I know it’s hard, but you have to stop looking at those pictures and thinking that’s all there is to your story. You deserve so much more than to be defined by what happened with Drew.”

“I know,” you sighed, resting your head against the back of the couch. “But it’s hard, Madelyn. It’s not just about the photos or the press. It’s everything. I thought we were more than that. I thought… I thought it was real.”

Madelyn’s expression softened, and she leaned in, taking your hand. “I know you did. And I think, deep down, Drew did too. But right now, you need to figure out what you want. Not what he wants. Not what the press wants. You need to decide what’s best for you.”

But even as your friends gave their support, you couldn’t escape the pull of Drew’s attempts to contact you. His phone calls became a constant. Every time your phone buzzed, your stomach twisted in knots. You hated that he was the one making you feel like this, that he still had the ability to drag you back into his world with just a message.

Finally, on one particularly sleepless night, the phone rang again. Drew’s name flashed across the screen.

You didn’t answer it.

Minutes later, another text from him:

“Please I can’t stand this. I’ve seen the pictures. I know you’re hurt. But I need you to know, I never wanted to hurt you. Us. I’m sorry for everything. Can we please meet and talk? I love you please don’t forget that.”

You stared at the message, feeling that familiar ache in your chest. Part of you wanted to believe him, wanted to give him the chance to fix this, to explain himself. But another part of you – the stronger, more resilient part – was terrified of falling for the same lies, the same empty promises.

You knew what you had to do. You couldn’t keep letting him pull you back into this mess.

__

The next day, you went to work, keeping your head down, avoiding any attention. But it was impossible to escape the ever-present eyes of the public. Every glance at your phone, every time you stepped outside, you could feel the weight of the scrutiny. The paparazzi had followed you more than once, snapping pictures of you walking alone, trying to find solace in your routine.

But no matter where you went, there was always someone watching. Always someone commenting. The paparazzi caught it all – the lonely moments and the sadness in your eyes. It felt like you were trapped in a never ending cycle of being seen,  but not truly known.

It wasn’t long before Madelyn called you again. Her voice was gentle, but you could hear the concern behind it. “Y/N, Drew wants to meet. He’s asking if you can at least hear him out. He says he’s messed up. He is not asking for forgiveness, just a chance to explain.”

You stood by the window, staring out at the city, the weight of her words sinking in. You had to make a choice. You couldn’t keep going back and forth between holding on and letting go.

But could you trust him again?

The uncertainty gnawed at you, and all you could do was take a deep breath and say “Tell him… I’m not ready. Not yet.”

Madelyn didn’t argue. She knew this was something you had to figure out on your own.

You spent the next few days doing everything you could to put distance between yourself and the mess that had become your relationship with Drew. You kept working, you spent time with friends, and you tried – really tried not to think about him. But you couldn’t escape the feeling that something was missing, that your world felt incomplete without him in it.

But then you realized: You had to be okay without him first. You couldn’t keep trying to piece yourself together with someone who had already shown they weren’t ready to treat you the way you deserved.

And so, you decided that you needed to move on. You deserved better than being stuck in a limbo. You deserved love that was real, not based on a public imagine, not tainted by lies and half-truths.

This was your time to find yourself again. And maybe, just maybe, Drew wasn’t a part of that future.

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss @esquivelbianca @josephandrewstarkey @willowpains @wtfdudesblog @purplerose291 @rafegf-real @matthewswifeyy @fangirl-magic @snowtargaryen @slut-era @leather-n-velvet

[vunblr]

Heartwood

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Summary: After Sam’s party, Bucky begins to navigate uncharted territory as he works to balance his growing feelings and lingering insecurities in his blooming relationship.

Word Count: 11k

notes: Follow-up of Roots and Branches.

Bucky stirred first, blinking against the pale light filtering through the curtains. It was a strange sensation, waking without the shadow of a dream, or worse, the weight of a memory. Instead, there was only the quiet of the room, the steady rhythm of her breathing, and the warmth of her body tucked into his side.

He shifted carefully, with slow and deliberate movements, unsure if he’d disturbed her. She murmured something unintelligible, with her face half-hidden against the crook of his arm, but she didn’t wake.

For a moment, he allowed himself to simply look at her. Something was grounding about seeing her this way, soft, peaceful, and completely at ease. Her fingers brushed faintly against his chest, the contact so light it felt almost subconscious, like even asleep, she couldn’t quite let go of him. He leaned his head back against the pillow, releasing a slow breath of contentment as he let the moment settle over him.

She stirred then, her nose brushing against his collarbone, and let out the smallest sigh. Her lashes fluttered, and her sleepy gaze lifted to meet his.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she tucked herself closer.

“Morning,” he rumbled softly, and before he could second-guess, he bent to kiss her forehead. He hesitated just enough to wonder if he should’ve rinsed his mouth first, but her sleepy smile disarmed him completely.

Her hand reached up lazily, brushing the curve of his jaw. “You’re up early.”

“Didn’t want to miss this,” he said quietly, as if speaking too loudly might break the moment.

She hummed, nuzzling closer into his chest. “I could stay here forever.”

He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, tightening the space between them. “Nobody’s stopping us.”

And that was when the doorbell rang, three sharp chimes that shattered the stillness.

Her body tensed briefly before she tilted her head back to look at him. He met her gaze with a scowl that was equal parts annoyance and resolve. “Ignore it.”

“But-”

He hugged her tighter, the words almost a growl in her ear. “Nobody’s home.”

The doorbell rang again, sharper this time, cutting through the morning like an unwelcome guest.

She froze, her forehead creasing as realization dawned. “Oh no,” she murmured, sitting up abruptly.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was a gruff rumble, his arms tightening briefly as if to pull her back before she escaped entirely.

Her face flushed with mild panic. “Sam! He’s supposed to fix the cabinets this morning.”

Bucky groaned, rolling onto his back, and shot her an exasperated look. “Really?” His hand raked through his hair, the messy strands falling into his eyes as he scowled at the ceiling.

She scrambled for her sweatpants, hopping slightly as she pulled them on, her movements hurried. Despite the rush, she bit her lip to stifle a laugh when she glanced at him again. He looked like a picture of grumpiness, his brow furrowed and jaw tight, the image of a man who wanted nothing more than to barricade the door and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“So, uh...” she ventured awkwardly, slipping a loose shirt over her head. “What do you want to do? Stay here in secrecy? I can sneak you some breakfast if you want.”

His gaze slid toward her, unamused.

“Or, I don’t know... sneak out the back door like some kind of criminal?” She half-grinned, watching for his reaction as she tugged the hem of her shirt into place.

Bucky grunted, leaning up on one elbow. “What are the other options?”

The doorbell rang a third time, louder and more insistent.

“None!” she hissed, darting toward the door, her bare feet padding against the floor. She paused briefly, shooting him an apologetic glance over her shoulder.

“I’ll be quiet,” he muttered with a resigned sigh, lying back and draping his arm over his face.

Suppressing a laugh, she opened the door with the best attempt at nonchalance. “Sorry, overslept,” she said, offering Sam a sheepish smile.

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking past her toward the faint creak of floorboards inside. “You sure about that?”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face composed, stepping slightly to the side to block his view. “Positive.”

As they entered the house, Sam glanced around and didn’t say anything, but his brow lifted ever so slightly before he turned back to her. “Didn’t see you stick around long at the grill last night,” he commented casually, taking a seat at the small kitchen table.

“Oh,” she began, busying herself with tidying up the counter. “I had a headache, so I didn’t want to overstay. Besides, you looked pretty engaged with those guys, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, muttering, “Uh-huh...”

They made small talk, mostly about the cabinets and how long the repairs would take. He occasionally shot her a curious glance, but she managed to deflect most of his subtle prodding.

Bucky, meanwhile, slipped out of the bedroom and padded to the bathroom, his bare feet making the wooden floors creak faintly. Sam’s ears perked up slightly at the sound, but he didn’t let on, instead continuing the conversation about varnish options and hardware.

The bathroom door creaked open again, and Bucky’s steps echoed softly as he made his way back toward the room. Sam’s lips twitched with a smirk he barely managed to suppress.

“You know,” he said, leaning forward slightly, “it’s a shame you left early. There was someone I wanted to introduce you to last night.”

She quirked a brow, her curiosity piqued. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Sam continued, tapping his fingers on the table. “Since you’re still alone and, y’know, apparently still with no prospects.” His grin widened, barely containing the mischief lighting up his expression.

She rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth twitched with amusement. “And who, exactly, were you going to introduce me to?”

“John Walker,” Sam said, drawing the name out like it was some grand revelation. “Another wood supplier of mine. He bought blueberry pie in your booth at the festival and chatted with you for a bit. Tall, blonde, lopsided grin?”

She tilted her head, vaguely recalling the man in question. “Oh, yes. I think I remember him.”

“Well,” Sam said, his tone dripping with exaggerated lament, “he asked me to introduce you, but you’d already left. Such a shame.”

The sound of Bucky’s steps abruptly halted somewhere across the hallway. John Fucking Walker? That asshole?

Sam, pretending to be oblivious, leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “But hey, no worries. This weekend, I’ll be grilling again. Maybe then-”

Before he could finish, heavy steps thudded purposefully down the hall. Bucky appeared in the doorway, his broad frame filling the space, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. The look he gave Sam was pointed, sharp, and entirely unamused.

Sam, the traitorous weasel, had the decency to feign surprise, though the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him. “Well, well,” he drawled, crossing his arms with exaggerated ease. “Seems like someone else caught that contagious headache last night.”

Her head whipped around to find Bucky, standing in all his glory. Heat rushed to her cheeks as her gaze flickered instinctively downward, then back up, her mind racing. The situation felt like a slow-motion car crash she couldn’t look away from.

There was a beat of awkward silence, her flustered reaction contrasting with Sam’s calm, almost unimpressed observation.

He arched a brow and leaned forward slightly, his tone casual but laced with mischief. “You know,” he said, “you two might’ve thought you slipped out unnoticed last night, but let me tell you, your absence didn’t exactly go under the radar.”

Bucky’s gaze narrowed, his irritation now mingled with the dawning realization that Sam wasn’t just here to fix cabinets. He’d fallen right into his childish trap. He’d exposed himself confirming exactly what he had been baiting him for.

She scrambled for words, her voice faltering. “Well, you see...”

Sam, entirely unperturbed, waved her off. “The most exciting thing happening at that grill was the talk about the town festival, the weather messing up gardens, and the rock slide on the north road.” He leaned forward, his grin widening. “You didn’t think people would notice when the newest addition to the town and the hard-to-get collection figure of social events both disappeared at the same time?” Bucky’s eyes narrowed further, his annoyance deepening at Sam’s playful but undeniably pointed observation. “Oh, come on,” Sam added, gesturing broadly. “Small town, Buck. We’re starved for drama. Of course people noticed.”

She felt heat creep up her neck and settle in her cheeks, her blush betraying her sense of exposure. Meanwhile, Bucky grunted, his irritation simmering just beneath the surface. The thought of being a topic of conversation for the town sent a fresh wave of unease rolling through him.

“It’s not that bad,” Sam said breezily, clearly enjoying himself. “I give your story a week before it gets old and a new topic arrives.” His gaze appraised Bucky, his grin broadening. “Speaking of which, aren’t you cold?” He gestured pointedly to his state of undress.

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, his scarred arm brushing against his side as he gave Sam a deadpan stare. “Aren’t you supposed to be fixing those cabinets?”

Sam snorted, shaking his head. “Look at you,” he teased. “Already the man of the house, bossing people around. Real domestic.”

Bucky’s lips twitched, just a hint of a smirk threatening to break through his otherwise stoic expression. “Keep talking, Wilson, and you’re gonna find yourself out on the porch with your toolbox.”

“Relax, big guy,” Sam shot back, grabbing his toolbox with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll leave you to play house in peace.”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing, her blush slowly fading as Sam turned toward the cabinets, still chuckling under his breath.

“We’ll let you do your thing,” she called after him, with a light tone.

She placed a gentle hand on Bucky’s chest and gave him a little push out of the kitchen doorway. He went without resistance, though his brow remained furrowed. Without a word, she took his hand and led him down the hallway to the bedroom, closing the door softly behind them. When she turned, his expression hadn’t shifted. His jaw was tight, and his gaze lingered somewhere on the floor.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but tinged with concern.

“Yeah,” he replied, but the lack of conviction in his tone was unmistakable.

She stepped closer, her hand brushing lightly over his forearm. “Bucky,” she pressed gently, “you don’t sound okay. What’s on your mind?”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t like the idea of feeling... watched,” he admitted after a pause, his voice low. “This whole thing with Sam stirring the pot... people noticing stuff, making it their business.”

Her heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. She reached for his hand, lifting it to her lips and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. “I get that,” she said quietly. “But I don’t think the people here would give you trouble. They’re probably just curious. It’ll pass.”

He glanced at her, his hesitation obvious. Then, with a slight shift of his shoulders, he added, “It’s not just that.”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated again, looking anywhere but at her, with a palpable unease. “I just... I don’t know what you want people to know. About... us.” He cleared his throat, awkwardly running a hand through his hair. “Or if there even is an ‘us.’”

Her stomach flipped, her breath catching slightly. “Bucky-”

“I mean, people say stuff in the heat of the moment,” he continued quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “Things feel... different in the light of day. And if you- if this-” He stopped, swallowing hard, still avoiding her gaze. “I don’t know if that’s what you want.”

His shyness was endearing and heartbreaking all at once, and it took her a moment to gather her thoughts.

“Wait,” she said, “You’re not saying you’re the one who wants a situationship, are you?”

His head snapped up, alarm flashing in his blue eyes. “No,” he said firmly, the denial almost a reflex. “That’s not- God, no.”

Relief washed over her, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “Good,” she said softly, stepping closer until there was almost no space between them. “We’re on the same page then.”

He relaxed marginally, his shoulders dropping as he at last met her gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Bucky leaned down, his lips brushing hers with a tentative softness that quickly gave way as his uncertainty melted. The kiss deepened, and his hands slid to her waist, pressing her against him as hers wove into his hair. The heat between them grew, his grip getting firmer as a soft sigh escaped her lips, drawn into the intensity of the moment… until the sharp, rhythmic crack of hammering shattered the haze like a stone tossed into still water.

Bucky groaned, pulling back just enough to press the back of his head against the bedroom door. He closed his eyes, his jaw tightening as he stared at the ceiling in frustration. “I hate him,” he muttered, growling the words.

She stifled a laugh, brushing her fingers lightly over his chest. “He’s just doing his job,” she replied softly.

Reluctantly, he let her go, running a hand through his hair. “I gotta go anyway,” he admitted with a resigned sigh. “Got a quota to fill. Need to deliver it by closing time.”

Her lips curved into a small pout. “You didn’t even have breakfast,” she pointed out, crossing her arms.

He shrugged, grabbing his jeans from the floor. “I’ll sort it out,” he said dismissively, but the way he avoided her gaze told her he didn’t have a plan.

She clicked her tongue in mild exasperation. “Yeah, no.” Before he could argue, she slipped out of the room, leaving him to dress while she headed to the kitchen.

In one swift motion, she grabbed a big tupperware from the cabinet and set it on the counter. Without hesitation, she got to work, spreading jam on slices of bread, stacking three sandwiches neatly inside. On the side, she crammed in four cookies and a few slices of freshly cut apple, tucking the lid into place with satisfaction.

Sam, hammer still in hand, peeked over from the corner of his eye, his grin unmistakable. “Oh, you’re gonna spoil him rotten, aren’t ya?”

She quirked a brow, unbothered. “I intend to, yes.”

Sam laughed, leaning against the counter briefly. “Good,” he said with an approving nod. “Someone has to, baking queen. He deserves it.”

Her expression softened slightly, and she gave a small, conspiratorial smile before putting the tupperware in a cloth bag and heading back toward the hallway.

Bucky was buttoning his flannel shirt when she returned, with the bag in her hands. He glanced up at the sound of her footsteps, “What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward the flowery sack as he reached for his boots.

“Breakfast,” she said simply, holding it out to him.

He stared at it for a moment, then back at her, his brows knitting together. “I told you I’d figure it out.”

“And I decided I’d save you the trouble,” she countered, unfazed, stepping closer and pressing the container into his hands. “It’s just some jam sandwiches, cookies, and an apple. Nothing fancy.”

His fingers wrapped around the handles reluctantly, his gaze flicking down to it. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and she wondered if she’d overstepped.

Then, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, he muttered, “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” she said softly, her tone light but insistent. “That’s why I did it.”

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line, but his grip on the bag tightened slightly, betraying the quiet gratitude he wasn’t quite sure how to voice. “Thanks,” he said finally, his voice low and a little rough.

Her smile widened, and she reached out to adjust the collar of his flannel. “Just eat it, okay? And no excuses about being too busy.”

He huffed a soft laugh, his shoulders relaxing as he shook his head. “Yes ma'am. You’re something else, you know that?”

“Good to know,” she replied with a playful smirk, giving his chest a gentle pat before stepping back.

As he turned to leave, he paused hesitantly in the doorway, his brow furrowing slightly as if caught in a thought. Then, without a word, he turned back and crossed the distance between them.

Before she could react, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. It was brief but gentle. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice rough but sincere. “Really.” He straightened and, without making eye contact, turned and exited the bedroom. The door clicked softly behind him, leaving her standing there with a flutter in her chest and a faint smile on her lips.

After Bucky left, she busied herself tidying up the kitchen and glanced at Sam, who was still diligently hammering away at the cabinets. “Want something to drink?” she offered casually.

Sam paused mid-swing and turned to her with a grateful smile. “Sure, whatever you’ve got.” She poured him a glass of orange juice, setting it on the counter where he could grab it easily before retreating to the living room.

The morning light filtered through the curtains as she settled on the couch, her laptop balanced on her knees. With a sigh, she opened the highlander’s document that made her roll her eyes every other sentence. She got through four chapters when Sam’s voice broke the quiet.

“All done for today,” he called from the kitchen doorway.

She glanced up, giving him a surprised smile. “That was quick.”

He grinned, wiping his hands on a rag as he stepped into the living room. “So, what’re you working on over here?”

Her stomach sank slightly. Oh no. Not this conversation again.

“Uh, just a manuscript,” she said vaguely, hoping he’d let it go.

But Sam, ever curious, tilted his head and leaned against the doorframe. “What kind of manuscript?”

“A romance novel,” she admitted reluctantly.

Sam’s grin widened. “Romance, huh? What kind? Cowboys? Pirates?”

She sighed, knowing resistance was futile. “It’s a Highlander one.”

That seemed to delight him even more. “Oh, like with the kilts and the swords and all that ‘My bonnie lass’ stuff?”

“Something like that,” she muttered.

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “My mom had a ton of those books, and my sister Sarah used to sneak them off the shelf when we were teenagers.” His grin turned devilish. “Boy, mom whipped her pervy ass when she found out. Thought she was scandalizing herself reading all those heaving bosom scenes.”

Despite herself, she let out a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. “Poor Sarah.”

“Poor Sarah, my ass,” Sam said with a chuckle. “She’s still a sucker for those books. Says it’s the ‘only time she has to herself.’” He made air quotes, clearly still amused by the memory.

She shook her head, laughing softly as she accompanied him to the door. “Well, let’s hope she never gets her hands on this one.”

------

By the time lunch rolled around, she had advanced a lot on her scheduled work for the day and couldn’t stop herself from glancing at her phone. She typed out a quick message to Bucky.

Hey, what are you up to?

Minutes passed with no response. Then, about an hour later, her phone buzzed in her hand, his name flashing across the screen. She picked up immediately.

“Hey,” she greeted warmly, leaning back on the couch.

“Hey,” he replied, with a gruffy tone. She could hear the faint hum of machinery in the background. “Sorry for not answering. Still working.”

“Yeah? How’s it going?”

A long sigh crackled through the line. “The chainsaw broke. Had to switch to one of the old ones. Slower, heavier, and louder. Pretty much the worst.”

Her brow furrowed at the weariness in his voice. “Sounds like a pain. Did you eat anything?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, though it didn’t sound convincing.

She hesitated, then offered, “I can bring you something. A sandwich or-”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said quickly, though his voice softened just enough to take the edge off the refusal. “Appreciate it, but I’ll figure it out.”

She frowned but didn’t push. “Okay... What time do you think you’ll be done?”

There was a brief pause as he considered. “About seven. Maybe a little after.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile as she decided to push just a little. “Mind if I come by your place when you’re done?”

The line went quiet, the faint buzz of the machinery and distant thudding the only sounds. She held her breath, wondering if she’d gone too far.

Finally, his voice came through, quieter and tinged with something shy. “Yeah, sure. If you want. Can’t promise I’ll be much of a host, though.”

Her smile widened, warmth blooming in her chest. “That’s okay. I’m not expecting a five-star experience. Just... you.”

His exhale was soft but audible as if her words had taken some weight off his shoulders. “All right,” he said simply. “See you then.”

“See you,” she replied, “and take care.” she added before the line clicked off.

She stared at the phone for a moment, with a lingering smile. No matter how grumpy or tired he sounded, he was still Bucky, the guy who cared enough to try.

He looked briefly at the old phone in his hand, her voice still echoing faintly in his ears, before tucking it back into his pocket and exhaling sharply.

Rolling his shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time that day, he muttered a curse under his breath. The heavier chainsaw and the damp air weren’t doing his arm joints any favors, the ache setting deep into the bone. He flexed his fingers, trying to shake off the stiffness, but it did little to help. As he set the chainsaw down for a moment’s reprieve, his mind wandered back to her words. Mind if I come by your place?

He snorted softly, half-amused, half-bewildered. She wanted to come over after a day like this, to his place of all places. His gaze flicked toward the cabin in the distance, the thought of her seeing it exactly as it was sending a twinge of discomfort through him.

He started mentally ticking through the list of things he’d have to deal with before she arrived.

The plates in the sink. Take out the trash. Definitely need to dismantle the makeshift bed on the living room floor. His brow furrowed. Putting a few empty bottles of scotch out of sight wouldn’t hurt either.

The thought of her stepping into his world, even for a little while, made him pause. He couldn’t help the doubt creeping in, the same gnawing thought that had been with him for as long as he could remember.

How someone like her could bother with someone like me?

He shook his head sharply, as if to dispel the thought, and grabbed the chainsaw again. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, not with the sun dipping lower and more work to finish.

The sound of her pen clicking filled the quiet room as she glanced at the clock and mentally sketched out her plan. Bucky was clearly having a rough day, and if he wasn’t going to let her help during the daytime, she’d make sure his evening was better.

Her eyes scanned the kitchen counter before settling on the tenderloin she’d defrosted earlier. Perfect. A baked tenderloin, creamed potatoes, and maybe a good wine, it was simple but comforting, exactly what he’d need after a day like this.

She pulled out her apron and got to work, her hands moving with practiced ease as she trimmed the meat, seasoned it with rosemary and garlic, and slid it into the oven. While that baked, she started on the potatoes, peeling and boiling them before whipping them with cream and butter until they were perfectly smooth.

As she worked, her gaze drifted to the wine sitting on the counter, a thoughtful gift from a friend she hadn’t yet opened. Tonight’s the perfect occasion, she thought, setting it aside with a smile.

By the time everything was ready, the kitchen smelled warm and inviting, and she felt a sense of satisfaction at having put the plan together. With the tenderloin resting on a cutting board and the potatoes cooling in their pot, she finished her workload for the day and headed to shower.

Steam filled the bathroom as she rinsed away the day, her thoughts lingering on Bucky, on how tired he must be, on how much he tried to shoulder everything himself. She couldn’t erase the day’s frustrations, but she could lighten the load, even if only for a few hours.

After her shower, she picked through her closet, her fingers brushing over fabrics until they landed on a paneled skirt. It was soft and simple, and it paired well with a blouse she liked. Totally practical, she told herself. Absolutely no ulterior motives.

By the time the food was packed into containers and loaded into the trunk, the sun was beginning to set, painting the horizon in soft hues of pink and orange. She double-checked the tupperwares, the wine, and even threw in a small bag of cookies for good measure.

Satisfied, she slid into the driver’s seat with determination. Tonight, she was going to make sure Bucky felt better, even if he didn’t realize how much he needed it.

By the time she reached the cabin, the evening light was fading, casting long shadows through the trees that lined the narrow road. Her car bumped along the uneven path, the crunch of gravel under her tires breaking the quiet stillness of the woods.

As she pulled up, her headlights swept across the clearing in front of his cabin, illuminating a lone figure by the side of the house. There he was, hauling a bag of trash toward a bin, his movements slower than usual.

Caught in the beam of her headlights, he froze momentarily, squinting against the brightness like a deer on the road. His workwear was rumpled, his shirt clinging to his broad frame from a long day’s labor. Dirt streaked his forearms and smudged his face, his hair slightly damp and pushed back haphazardly.

She turned off the engine and got out, the sound of the door closing drawing his gaze to her. His eyes flicked immediately to the bags in her arms, and he moved toward her with purposeful strides, leaving the trash bag forgotten by the bin.

Before she could say anything, he reached for the bags. “Here,” he muttered, his voice gruff but soft, his fingers brushing hers as he took them.

She tilted her head, a playful pout forming on her lips. “No kiss?”

He paused, his brow furrowing slightly, as though he were genuinely considering it. The truth was, he felt grimy and sweaty, dirt likely smudged across his face, while she looked effortlessly put together. The soft fabric of her skirt swayed gently in the evening breeze, and her fresh, clean scent drifted toward him, a stark contrast to his own disheveled state.

“I didn’t have time to… I don’t wanna stain you,” he admitted, his voice low and rough as his gaze flicked down to the bags in his hands.

Her expression softened, a warm smile curving her lips as she stepped closer. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his waist, ignoring the startled grunt he made at the contact. Rising onto her toes, she pressed a quick, tender kiss to his lips. Before he could fully react, she pulled back, her eyes bright with affection.

“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t greet my man after a rough day at work?” she teased in a light tone.

His grip on the bags tightened slightly as he registered the words, and a faint blush crept over his cheeks, visible even through the dirt smudged on his face. Her man. The thought of it settled warm and steady in his chest, a sensation he didn’t quite know how to process.

He cleared his throat, his gaze darting away as he mumbled, “I guess you’re right.” Turning toward the cabin, he gestured for her to follow. “Come on in.”

As she stepped into the cabin, she paused to take it all in. The space was clean and warm, but undeniably spartan: bare walls, minimal furniture, and everything in its place. It was practical and functional, yet there was something distinctly Bucky about it.

Her gaze lingered on the small stack of books on the coffee table, a worn flannel jacket draped over the back of a chair, and a neatly folded blanket on the couch. Despite the lack of frills, it felt lived-in, quiet, and steady, just like him.

Bucky set the bags down on the small kitchen counter and turned to her, his brows furrowing slightly. “What’s all this?” he asked, gesturing at the containers with a slight tilt of his head.

“Dinner,” she replied simply, smiling as she stepped closer.

His eyebrows shot up, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, she cut him off.

“What,” she interjected, her tone playful but firm, “did you think I’d come all the way out here after the day you’ve had just for you to take care of me? Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” She stepped closer, her voice softening as her gaze met his. “I came to take care of you.”

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Instead, he blinked at her, his brow furrowing again as though he wasn’t quite sure how to process what she’d said.

“Come on,” she coaxed gently, placing a hand lightly on his arm. “You’ve been working your ass off all day, and I thought you could use a little help. That’s okay, right?”

He looked down at her hand on his arm, his muscles tensing slightly under her touch before relaxing. After a moment, he exhaled, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice quiet and a little rough. “Yeah, that’s... okay.”

Bucky stared at the bags on the counter. Of course she’d bring food. He slapped himself mentally for not anticipating it, given her nurturing nature. It wasn’t just something she did, it was who she was.

Still, a pang of guilt settled in his chest. He hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t even hinted at it, and yet here she was, going out of her way after what had probably been a long day for her, too. He felt, in some small way, like he was taking advantage of her kindness, even if unintentionally. Lost in thought, he barely registered her stepping closer until she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. His first instinct was to tense, the feel of her against his sweaty shirt making him self-conscious. But her warmth broke through the unease, and he found himself relaxing, his arms coming up to reciprocate the embrace. Inhaling the faint, sweet scent of her hair, he felt something in him soften.

“A penny for your thoughts?” she asked gently, her voice muffled against his chest.

He hesitated for a moment, then bit his lip before murmuring, “Just... not used to being cared for like this.”

Her hold on him tightened slightly, and she leaned back just enough to look up at him with a soft smile. “Well,” she said, her tone light but firm, “it’s better for you if you start getting used to it.”

He let out a soft, almost reluctant chuckle, the tension easing further from his shoulders.

“Go wash your hands,” she said, stepping back and gesturing toward the small bathroom. “I’ll set the table if that’s okay with you.”

“Maybe I should take a shower first,” he muttered, glancing down at himself, but she waved him off.

“You look starved,” she replied matter-of-factly. “You can shower after. Go on, wash up.”

Bucky arched a brow at her. “What’s in the containers, anyway?”

“Baked tenderloin, creamed potatoes, and a little wine,” she said as she started unpacking the food.

After her words, his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Tenderloin?”

She nodded, her smile widening at his reaction.

“I’ll be right back,” he said quickly, his voice filled with unexpected excitement as he disappeared into the bathroom.

A little while later, Bucky reappeared, his hands clean and his face looking freshly washed. His long damp locks were pushed back, though a few stubborn strands refused to stay in place, giving him a slightly tousled look. He’d clearly made an effort, even if it wasn’t much, and she smiled at the sight.

The table was already set, the food neatly arranged in the middle, with mismatched enamel plates waiting. As he stepped closer, his eyes widened slightly at the spread before him. The tenderloin, perfectly sliced, the creamy potatoes beside it, it all looked like something out of a dream after the rough day he’d had. The smell hit him next, warm and comforting, and his stomach growled loudly, reminding him of just how little he’d eaten that day.

“It’s still hot,” she said, breaking his awed silence with a smile. “I used insulating containers.”

He nodded, still a bit dazed, and took his seat as she filled his plate. The first bite hit like a revelation, the flavors melting in his mouth. For a moment, he just sat there, savoring it, before digging in with gusto.

She watched with amusement the way he seemed to focus entirely on his plate. When he finished the first serving, he hesitated, glancing at the platter but not quite making a move. “Go on, you know you want more,” she said with a playful shake of her head, adding another helping to his plate before he could protest.

Bucky grumbled something under his breath, though the small, grateful smile tugging at his lips gave him away. He didn’t hesitate with the second helping, and by the time that plate was empty, he finally gave in and asked for the third himself.

“All right,” she teased as she served him again, “better than dino mac and cheese?”

His fork paused mid-air, and a gruff and warm laugh escaped him. “By a mile,” he admitted, shaking his head. “No contest.” The meal continued with more appreciative noises from him, low hums of approval and muttered compliments that only grew as he polished off every bite.

When his plate was finally clean, he leaned back slightly in his chair, his hand resting on his stomach. “I could get used to this,” he said softly, almost to himself, before his eyes widened slightly, and his ears turned faintly pink. “I mean... if you, uh, want to do this again. Another day. No pressure.”

She bit back a laugh, leaning her chin on her hand as she looked at him. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied warmly.

Bucky glanced down, his blush deepening, but the small smile lingering on his face betrayed how much her answer meant to him.

“So... how’s your arm?” she asked gently as she began clearing the plates, glancing at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. “You rotated your shoulder earlier, and you seemed a little stiff.”

Bucky froze, his eyes snapping to hers. He hadn’t realized she’d been paying that much attention. His first instinct was to brush it off, to tell her he was fine, no big deal. The words hovered on the tip of his tongue… but he’d promised himself not to shut her out. With a sigh, he leaned on the table, running a hand through his hair. “Using the old chainsaw today didn’t help. Heavy as hell, and the weather’s been a pain. Humidity makes it worse. Arm’s been bitching all day.”

She nodded thoughtfully, setting the plates aside before returning to her seat. “How about a massage?”

The question caught him off guard, and he stared at her, his thoughts muddled. He didn’t quite know how to respond, so he fell silent, mulling it over. It wasn’t like he’d ever been the type to ask for -or accept- things like that. But the idea of her hands working out the knots in his shoulder and biceps sounded almost too good to pass up after the day he’d had. “That’d be... really good,” he admitted finally, with a soft voice, “but I should take a bath first.”

She tilted her head, her expression turning stubborn. “Nonsense.” His brow furrowed as he started to protest, but she cut him off with a shy smile, her cheeks tinged pink. “I like how you smell, okay?”

He blinked at her, taken aback by her words. His gaze softened, and the tension in his shoulders eased just slightly. He didn’t know what to say to that, how could he argue when she looked at him like that?

“Okay,” he said finally, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest of smiles. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” she replied, with a steady but warm tone. “Now, take off your shirt and go sit on that stool over there,” she instructed, nodding toward the wooden stool tucked near the fireplace in the living room.

Bucky arched a brow but complied, standing slowly and pulling his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. As the fabric cleared his torso, she couldn’t help but stare. His muscled frame was on full display, the scars etched across his skin like unfinished stories. He hadn’t spoken of them yet, and she was determined to wait until he was ready to share those chapters himself. Her gaze lingered on the sharp cut of his shoulders, the way his muscles flexed with each subtle movement. Her hands twitched slightly at her sides, eager to touch him, to ease the tension she could see in every line of his body.

He turned and caught her staring, his lips quirking into a knowing smirk. “Did you plot this to take advantage of a tired and wounded man?” he teased, his tone dry but amused. “You stuff me full of food so I can’t move, and then you attack?”

She blinked, her cheeks warming, but a mischievous grin spread across her face. “Maybe,” she said with a playful shrug, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small bottle of lotion.

His eyes narrowed slightly, though there was a glint of humor in his gaze. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Perhaps it was a little premeditated,” she admitted, shaking the bottle in her hand as she stepped toward him. “Now sit.”

Bucky chuckled softly, shaking his head as he lowered himself onto the stool. “Remind me never to underestimate you.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she quipped, uncapping the bottle and squeezing a small amount into her hands, her gaze flickering briefly to his bare skin.

As she stepped behind him, her heart beat a little faster. She placed her hands on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers, and began to work the lotion into the tight muscles.

The moment her hands touched his shoulders, Bucky tensed, his first thought lingering on the sweat still clinging to his skin. As her fingers pressed firmly into the tight muscles at the top of his shoulders, the tension in his neck began to ease almost immediately, but his mind stubbornly clung to his unease. He shifted slightly, the thought of her hands on his clammy skin making him self-conscious.

She seemed to sense his hesitation, leaning closer until her lips brushed against the pulse point at his neck. The kiss was soft but deliberate, and he stilled completely at the unexpected touch. Her fingers pressed deeper into his shoulders as she murmured, her voice low and teasing, “I’m not feeling any relaxation, Buck.”

Her lips trailed a warm, wet line from his pulse point to his earlobe, and he groaned, a deep, gravelly sound that rumbled in his chest. The tension in his body began to dissolve, his shoulders sagging as he exhaled a long breath.

“There we go,” she said softly, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips as her hands resumed their steady, soothing rhythm.

She worked her thumbs firmly along the base of his neck, coaxing the tight knots free, before moving down to his shoulders. Her fingers dug into the thick muscles with just the right amount of pressure, and he let out a low hiss that melted into a sigh. His scarred arm caught her attention next, the touch growing gentler as she kneaded the firm swell of his bicep. Her fingers traced over the ridges of the scars there, not hesitating but mindful, lingering in a way that felt both tender and intentional.

Bucky didn’t say a word, but his body told the story, how his shoulders slumped further under her touch, how his breathing slowed, and how the stiffness in his arm seemed to melt away. With each stroke, he let go just a little more, his head dipping forward slightly, his lips parting as another sound escaped him, a softer, more relieved groan this time, like unburdening himself of a long-held weight.

By the time she finished, her hands moving back up to smooth over his shoulders one last time, Bucky’s body was practically putty under her touch. The knots in his muscles had vanished, leaving him loose and blissfully relaxed. Yet, beneath the calm she’d so carefully drawn out, a different tension simmered. Her warm breath against his neck, the soft brush of her chest against his back, and the intimacy of her touch stirred something deeper, and despite his best efforts to stay still, a part of him was very much paying attention to her ministrations.

She stepped back slightly, wiping her palms on a towel she’d grabbed from her bag. “All done,” she announced lightly, her voice warm. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky straightened slightly, forcing himself to keep his breathing even as he glanced back at her. “So good,” he said honestly, his voice low and husky. “Thank you.”

Before she could respond, he moved with quiet intent, his hands finding her waist as he gently pulled her into his lap.

Her eyes widened as she settled sideways on his thighs, his hands firm and steady, holding her as though she belonged there.

“What kind of host would I be,” he murmured, his voice thick and velvety, sending a delicious shiver down her spine, “if I didn’t thank you properly?”

And then his lips were on hers, warm and insistent, his hands holding her in place like he couldn’t bear the thought of her slipping away. The kiss deepened quickly, and she let out a soft moan as she shifted in his lap, the movement drawing her attention to the unmistakable hardness pressing against her. Her breath hitched, her heart pounding as heat rushed through her body.

When they finally parted, her gaze met his, taking in the tired lines around his eyes. She quirked a brow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Weren’t you exhausted?”

Bucky leaned in, his lips brushing against her pulse point before nipping at it lightly. “Never for you,” he murmured, in a low and rough voice. The statement sent a thrill through her, her cheeks flushing as she bit her lip, her hands instinctively tightening on his shoulders. “You know,” he continued, his tone soft but teasing as his hand traveled under the hem of her skirt, his rough fingers brushing against her bare thigh, “last night I told you why I liked you in dresses and skirts.”

Her breath caught as his hand moved higher, his touch deliberate and unhurried. “Oh, I took note,” she answered playfully, kissing his cheek as her fingers traced idle patterns over his chest. Her gaze held his with a spark of anticipation. “What are you going to do about it?”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, the corners of his mouth twitching as his hand slid higher, his grip firm but coaxing. “Guess you’ll find out,” he said, his voice barely more than a growl as he kissed her again, deeper and more insistent this time. She gasped softly against his mouth, threading her fingers into his hair and pulling him closer.

His touch became more insistent, one hand sliding up her side, the fabric of her blouse bunching under his fingers. Without breaking the kiss, he unbuttoned it promptly and removed it in two smooth motions. He leaned back just enough to take her in, his eyes trailing over the curves of her body with open appreciation. His lips parted slightly, and a low, almost reverent hum rumbled from his chest. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he muttered, his voice rough with need as his hands moved to unhook her bra.

The straps fell away, and he cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her sensitive nipples. She let out a soft whimper, slightly arching her body into his touch. “Perfect,” he murmured, leaning down to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the swell of her breast. His lips trailed down, and when his mouth closed around her nipple, sucking gently, a sharp moan escaped her lips. Her hand flew to his nape, her fingers tangling in his hair as she arched again, pressing him harder against her chest. The pressure of his mouth and the flick of his tongue were enough to send her mind spinning.

He growled softly against her skin, his other hand sliding down from her waist, hooking his arm under her knee, spreading her leg with ease, and angling her body to fit perfectly against his, with her back against his chest. His free hand trailed down, his fingers teasing the edge of her panties before pressing against the damp fabric. Her hips bucked instinctively at the contact, a sharp gasp escaping her he traced slow, deliberate circles over her clothed pussy.

“Today was a shitty day,” Bucky said huskily as his fingers pressed a little harder, drawing another moan from her lips. He leaned forward, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. “I appreciate it a lot... what you did here, sweetheart.”

His hand slipped under the waistband of her panties, his rough fingers finding her slick folds with ease. A strangled sound escaped her, as her hand flew to the back of his neck.

“I’m not very good with words,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against her skin. As he spoke, he pushed two fingers inside her, slow and deliberate, the stretch sending a wave of pleasure through her. “But I’m happy. Really.” His confession was soft, almost vulnerable, as his thumb began circling her clit with a practiced rhythm that sent her thoughts scattering.

Her head fell back, a moan spilling from her lips as her body arched against him. “Well, I can’t argue,” she panted, her words broken by pleasure, “this is a... a nice way of appreciation.”

His lips curved into a small smile against her neck as his fingers moved inside her with a slow, steady rhythm. Each motion drew soft gasps and moans from her lips, her body arching against him as the pleasure built. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing her skin. “You take care of me, and this is how I take care of you.” His voice was husky, laced with affection, and something darker, rougher.

Her breath hitched as he adjusted his angle slightly, his fingers curling inside her, hitting a spot that made her cry out. He chuckled softly, the sound low and rough in her ear. “There it is,” he growled, his pace quickening just enough to keep her teetering on the edge.

Her hands clutched at his thigh and neck, her nails digging in slightly as her hips moved instinctively against his hand. “B-Bucky,” she panted, her voice shaky, her head tipping back as she lost herself in the sensation.

When he shifted his arm slightly, a dry chuckle escaped him. “Fuck, I smell,” he muttered, half to himself, his self-consciousness creeping back in despite the moment.

She turned her head sharply, her flushed face meeting his. “My God, James,” she said firmly, her voice a mix of exasperation and arousal. “I told you, I’m okay with it.”

His brows quirked, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “So I’m James when you scold me?” he teased, pushing his fingers deeper, harder, making her gasp and stutter.

“T-That’s right,” she managed, her breath shuddering as his pace picked up. “I don’t mind you sweaty after a day of work... I think it’s hot, okay?” she confessed, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.

His hand stilled for just a second, his gaze lifting to hers in surprise before a wide, wicked grin spread across his face. “You think it’s hot,” he repeated, his voice a low, teasing drawl. “Well, sweetheart, I think you’re hot when you’re like this.”

Without another word, his fingers moved faster, curling and pressing in ways that made her moan loudly, her head falling back as the pressure built to an unbearable peak. He trailed open-mouthed kisses along her throat, his stubble scraping lightly against her skin as his pace became relentless.

“Maybe,” he murmured between kisses, his voice a husky whisper that sent tremors through her, “I could be Jamie when you cum. What do you say, darlin’?”

Her moans turned into breathless cries, her body trembling as his words pushed her closer to the edge. His thumb pressed harder against her clit, and with one final, precise movement, she shattered, her climax crashing over her in a wave of heat and pleasure.

She called out his name, her body arching as her walls clenched around his fingers. He didn’t stop, coaxing her through every aftershock, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “That’s it, good girl. Let go for me.”

When she finally slumped back against him with ragged breathing, he pulled his hand back, cradling her against his chest with a satisfied smirk. “So,” he said softly, his tone laced with playful arrogance, “Jamie it is, huh?”

She swatted his shoulder weakly, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

“And now,” Bucky murmured between kisses at the back of her neck, his voice dark and laced with promise, “I’m going to show you exactly what I’m going to do about this skirt of yours.”

Before she could respond, his hands gripped her hips firmly as he shifted them both to the floor in one fluid motion. Her knees hit the soft rug beneath them, and he pressed himself against her back, slowly grinding his erection against her rear. One of his hands slid up to her waist, holding her firmly in place as his other hand moved to the nape of her neck, pressing her down gently but firmly against the coffee table.

The rough wood met her forearms, her body bent at just the right angle to have her completely at his mercy. Her breath hitched as she felt his hand leave her nape briefly, the sound of his belt unbuckling and the zipper of his jeans being drawn down making her pulse race.

With one hand still firm on her hip, Bucky gathered the fabric of her skirt and lifted it, baring her ass to him. His large, rough palm cupped one cheek, squeezing it firmly. “Seems to me,” he said, his voice gravelly and dripping with lust, “you came here intending to be taken advantage of.”

A low chuckle escaped her lips, her body reacting instinctively as she arched her back and parted her thighs slightly, lifting her hips toward him. “Can you blame me?” she teased, with a breathy voice, the words laced with anticipation.

His lips curled into a grin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down in one swift motion, leaving them tangled around her knees. “Who am I,” he murmured, his tone dark and teasing, “to deny you what you want, especially after you pamper me, hm?” His pupils were blown as he stared at her pussy, slick and glistening with arousal. A low groan rumbled from his chest as he wrapped a hand around his cock, thick and heavy, precum already beading at the tip. He ran the swollen head through her folds, spreading her wetness over his length. The sensation made her gasp, her hips pressing back against him instinctively.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, savoring how wet and ready she was for him. Gripping her hip tightly, he lined himself up and began to press into her slowly, the blunt head of his cock stretching her open inch by inch.

She mewled at the stretch, the fullness making her fingers clutch the edge of the coffee table for support. As he slid deeper, a low moan spilled from her lips, as her body adjusted to take him to the hilt. He paused there, his chest pressing against her back as he leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice was rough but tinged with genuine care, though he already knew the answer. The feel of her walls clenching around him, pulling him in even tighter, made it clear she was more than alright.

Her breath hitched again, her body shuddering under his, and she nodded quickly, her voice a little shaky but firm. “Yes,” she whispered, her tone carrying a mix of need and reassurance.

Satisfied, he let out a low, satisfied hum, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck before rolling his hips experimentally, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips.

Bucky pulled back almost completely before thrusting forward again, his pace slow and deliberate, letting her feel every inch of his cock stretch and fill her. The low, guttural groan that escaped his lips was unrestrained, a sound that vibrated deep in his chest as he rolled his hips again, savoring the way her pussy clenched around him.

It was like something unlocked inside him, the tension he carried in every interaction, every moment of his day, dissolving as he lost himself in the heat of her. Here, he didn’t have to hold back or second-guess. There was no space for hesitation, no room for what ifs, just her body arching beneath him and her soft moans urging him on.

“You feel so fucking good,” he muttered with a rough voice, the words falling from his lips without filter or pretense. He pulled back to watch the way his cock disappeared into her, his grip tightening on her as he snapped his hips harder, a sharp slap of skin meeting skin filling the air. “Made for me, aren’t you?”

Her whimper in response only spurred him on, his hand sliding up her back to press between her shoulder blades, bending her further over the coffee table as his thrusts picked up a relentless rhythm.

Her cries grew louder, her fingers clutching at the table for stability as she pushed back against him, meeting his movements with desperation. “Bucky!” she cried out, her voice breaking as his relentless thrusts sent waves of pleasure coursing through her.

“That’s it,” he growled, his lips brushing against her shoulder as he drove into her harder, deeper. “Say it again, sweetheart.”

“Bucky,” she gasped, her breath hitching as his fingers worked her clit with precision with her body trembling beneath him.

A grin spread across his lips as he leaned closer, his voice rough and teasing. “What about… Jamie? Hmm? Can I be your Jamie when you fall apart for me?”

Her head tipped back, and a flush crept up her neck as the name fell from her lips, breathless and needy. “J-Jamie...”

His groan was low and guttural, his hips stuttering for a moment before he caught his rhythm again. The way her voice carried his name sent a thrill through his body.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his pace quickening as his free hand slid up her back, holding her steady. “Say it again, darling. Let me hear it.”

“Jamie!” she cried, her voice trembling as the pressure in her core built to a breaking point.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her neck. “You’re so good for me. Taking all I give you.”

Her walls clenched around him, and she shuddered beneath him, her voice breaking as she gasped his name.

That was his undoing. His thrusts became harder, more erratic as he chased his release, her pleasure pulling him closer to the edge. “That’s it,” he growled, his voice strained but commanding. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come on my cock.”

She shattered, her cries echoing through the room as her climax ripped through her, her body arching and trembling under his hands.

Hearing her call his diminutive over and over as her body convulsed around him was enough to send him spiraling. With a guttural groan, he followed her over the edge, his hips driving into her one last time as he spilled inside her.

As the intensity ebbed, she slumped forward, her body draped over the coffee table, with a ragged and shallow breathing. Bucky followed her, his chest pressing against her back as they both came down from the high with their bodies still connected.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the only sound in the room was their uneven breaths. Then, with a soft grunt, Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled her upright. “C’mere,” he murmured, his voice still gravelly, though softer now. He shifted, sitting back on the thick rug, and dragged her with him, settling her in his lap. Her back rested against his broad chest, his arms enveloping her in a warm, protective hug.

She melted into him, her head tipping back to rest on his shoulder as his chin came to rest atop her head. One of his arms enveloped her below her breasts holding her securely against him, while the other traced slow, idle patterns on her thigh.

“You’re amazing,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she reached back with her hand and caressed his stubbed cheek.

Bucky stilled for a moment, her words catching him off guard. He swallowed hard, his arms tightening around her slightly. “I think that’s my line,” he muttered, his lips brushing against her hair. “You’re the one who...” He trailed off, shaking his head with a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “You’re just amazing.”

She turned her head slightly to look up at him, her lips curving into a tender smile. “I like this,” she said, full of affection.

“Hmm?” he hummed, tilting his head slightly to glance down at her.

“This,” she repeated, gesturing to the way his arms were wrapped around her. “You. Holding me like this. Feels like home.”

His breath hitched, and he kissed the top of her head gently, tightening his embrace even further. “You… feel like home too.” he admitted, with a softer voice.

After a few minutes of quiet, she broke the silence, her tone turning playful. “So,” she said, glancing up at him with a teasing smile, “Will I get this treatment every time I cook you a hearty meal?”

Bucky froze for a moment, her question pulling him from the comfortable haze of their embrace. His body tensed slightly, and his usual awkwardness crept back in as his brain finally caught up with what she was saying.

“... maybe,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible as his fingers fidgeted against her waist.

She blinked, her smile widening as she tried, and failed, not to laugh. “What was that?” she teased, twisting in his lap just enough to catch the faint pink creeping up his neck. “I didn’t hear you, Jamie.”

At the sound of the name, his eyes widened briefly, and a groan rumbled from his chest as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Don’t...” he started, his voice muffled, but she cut him off with a laugh, her fingers brushing through his hair.

“You are so cute, you know that?”

He let out a dry chuckle, a sound tinged with disbelief as he leaned back slightly to meet her gaze. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life,” he muttered with a  wry tone, “but it’s a first time for cute.”

She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “Well, you are,” she said firmly, her eyes bright with affection. “And I dare anyone to say otherwise.”

His lips twitched, the faintest smile breaking through his usual reserve. “You’re something else,” he murmured, his arms tightening around her as he buried his face in her hair again.

He held her close for a moment longer, her warmth making it harder to let go. Finally, he cleared his throat, breaking the comfortable silence. “You... wanna stay the night?” he asked, his tone casual, but laced with a hint of hesitation.

Her lips curved into a soft smile as she leaned back just enough to meet his gaze. “I’d love to.”

“Good,” he said, the word gruff but filled with quiet satisfaction. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “And no one’s gonna be ringing the doorbell early in the morning here,” his tone carrying a touch of grumpiness.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, that is definitely a bonus.”

Her laughter eased some of the tension in his chest, but it crept back just as quickly. For a moment he froze, a flicker of doubt crossed his features as his mind wandered to his unused bed. Do I even have sheets on that thing? The memory hit him almost instantly: yes, he did. A week ago, he’d tossed a spare set on there after doing laundry, figuring it was better than leaving the mattress bare. He sighed with relief, and his lips curved into a small grin.

Without warning, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her effortlessly, standing with her in his arms as if she weighed nothing, getting out of his pants with a little work of his legs.

“Bucky!” she squealed, laughing as she grabbed onto his shoulders for balance.

“You said yes,” he replied with a smirk, adjusting his hold as he headed toward the bathroom. “Now, come on. We both need a good scrubbing.”

Her laughter bubbled out as her hands slid up to cup his face. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Jamie” she teased with a playful tone.

Bucky’s brow quirked, a smirk tugging at his lips even as a faint flush crept up his cheeks. Tightening his hold on her, he leaned in, his voice dropping low and rough. “Oh, Jamie’s gonna teach you a lesson about poking bears,” he muttered, the teasing edge in his words sending a shiver down her spine.

Before she could fire back, his hand shifted, delivering a swift smack to her ass.

She gasped in surprise, jerking slightly, then bit her lip with a playful grin. “Is the big bad bear planning to plunder a honeypot tonight?” she asked, with a teasing undertone.

Bucky’s eyes went wide for a moment, and his steps faltered. His ears turned bright red as he stammered, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “What do you read in those novels?” he muttered, avoiding her gaze as his grip on her tightened slightly.

She grinned wickedly, undeterred. “It’s not like you haven’t already-”

Before she could finish, his hand came down with another sharp slap to her ass, making her squeal. “Enough outta you,” he growled, though the pink on his ears deepened.

“Oh, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” she teased, still grinning as she tightened her arms around his shoulders.

He let out a low groan, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip, carrying her effortlessly into the bathroom. “You’re a menace,” he muttered.

“And you like it,” she countered, leaning in to kiss his cheek, her lips brushing against his flushed skin.

His stride slowed as he turned his head to look at her, his tired blue eyes softer now. The teasing glint had faded, replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly, his voice low and raw. “I do.”

As they crossed into the bathroom, he leaned his forehead against hers. “You make it easy to forget everything else,” he murmured, his voice barely audible but weighted with a truth he rarely allowed himself to share.

Her arms tightened around him, as she pressed a kiss in the corner of his mouth. She could feel the unspoken heaviness behind his words, the burdens he carried in silence. But she didn’t push. She knew he would tell her when he was ready, about his struggles, his past, and the shadows that still lingered in his mind. “I’m glad Bucky, you deserve that.”

His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, his arms tightening around her as he held her close. For a moment, the world outside the bathroom, outside this cabin, ceased to exist. He dipped his head slightly, brushing her lips in a tender, unhurried kiss, filled with gratitude and unspoken promises, a glimpse of the feelings he couldn’t yet bring himself to express.

[strnilolover]

.✦ ── She’s Not Mine, She’s Not You ── ✦.

♡ Prince!Matt x Maid Reader au

⚠︎ Warmings : Arranged Marriage, Angst, Fluff, Forbidden Love/Relationship, Sneaking around and More.

♡ In which … prince matt and maid reader have been in a secret relationship for a little bit now. But, they’ve had to keep it behind closed doors because of his royal status and family. What happens when he’s placed in an arranged marriage he doesn’t even want to be in?

The air in your small quarters felt heavier than usual this evening. The flickering light of a single candle cast soft shadows on the stone walls as you meticulously folded linens. The familiar routine was meant to keep your mind occupied, but tonight, it couldn’t quiet the gnawing unease that had settled in your chest.

Matt had been distant all day. Normally, he’d find a reason to slip into whatever room you were working in, whether it was the grand library, the kitchens, or even the stables. He’d offer smiles and some heated actions that made your heart race. But today, he was nowhere to be found.

You told yourself it was nothing — that he was simply busy with royal duties. Yet the anxious pit in your stomach told a different story.

But then a sudden, forceful knock at your door startled you. Before you could answer, the door burst open. Matt stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His hair was messier than usual, his shirt slightly wrinkled as if he’d been running his hands through it all day. His expression was a storm of frustration and anguish, a stark contrast to the gentle, confident prince you knew.

“Matt?” you said cautiously, setting the linens aside and stepping toward him. “What’s going on?” you whisper, cautious not to upset him farther from what ever it was.

He didn’t answer right away, instead closing the door behind him with a heavy thud and locking it. His hands rested on the doorframe for a moment as he let out a slow, shaky breath. When he finally turned to face you, the fire in his eyes made your heart skip.

“They’ve done it,” he said bitterly. “They’ve made the decision for me.” his words were rough — it sounded like he just ate something that wasn’t good, whatever this was — wasn’t good.

Your brows furrowed slightly, unsure as to what he meant — but you had a feeling. “What decision?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you already knew you weren’t going to like the answer he was going to provide you.

He took a breath, his body visibly shaking. “My parents,” he began, his voice tight with anger. “They’ve arranged a marriage. To Lady Evelina.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest. You felt the air leave your lungs as your knees wobbled slightly. You gripped the edge of your desk for support, your fingers digging into the wood.

You stood there, the words on the tip of your tongue — but it felt like gravel running along your mouth. “When?” you managed to ask, though your voice trembled.

“The engagement is to be announced at the ball in five months.” he spat, pacing the small room like a caged animal. “They didn’t even ask me. They didn’t give me a choice.” he voice raised, hands coming up to point at his chest as to get his words across more clearly.

You stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. The weight of it pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. “Lady Evelina…” you said softly, as if saying her name aloud would make it less real. “She’s… she’s beautiful. She’s noble. She’s—”

“She’s not you,” Matt interrupted, stopping mid-step to look at you. His gaze was fierce, almost desperate. “She’s not the one I love.” he stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world — because it was, to you both.

“Matt…” You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. “You’re a prince. You were always going to marry someone like her. I knew that.” you said, voice cracking as you forced them through your teeth.

“No,” he said firmly, crossing the room to stand in front of you. “I told you from the beginning — I don’t care about any of that. Titles, politics, expectations — they mean nothing to me. You’re the only one who matters.”

His words, spoken with such conviction, brought tears to prick at the corner of your eyes. “And what about your kingdom?” you asked, your voice breaking even more. “What about your people? They expect you to marry someone who can strengthen alliances, someone who can stand beside you as a queen-“

“I don’t care what they expect!” he exclaimed, cutting you off as his frustration started to boil over. “I care about what I want. And I want you.”

“You think that’s enough?” you said, tears streaming down your cheeks now. “You think you can just tell your parents, your court, your entire kingdom that you love a maid, and they’ll just… accept it?” your chest twisted.

“I’ll make them accept it,” he said stubbornly, his jaw set. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Your hands trembled as you stepped away from him, needing distance to think clearly. “Matt, you’re being reckless,” you said, your voice barely steady. “You have a responsibility — to your family, to your kingdom. I can’t let you throw all of that away for me.”

He followed you, closing the space quickly between you with a few long strides. “You don’t get to decide that,” he said, his voice soft but firm. He reached for your hands, holding them gently despite the storm of emotions coursing through his veins. “This is my life. And I’m choosing you.” he whispered, gripping your hands tighter as he brought them up to place a small peck on your knuckles.

Your resolve crumbled under the weight of his words. A sob escaped your lips as you shook your head. “You shouldn’t have to choose,” you whispered. “You shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything for me.”

Matt shook his head, “Don’t you see?” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m not sacrificing anything. You’re the only thing that’s ever felt right. Without you, none of it matters.”

And you stared at him — your tears falling freely now. His love for you was undeniable, but so was the impossible weight of the world he lived in.

“And Lady Evelina?” you asked bitterly. “What about her? She’s being forced into this, too. She deserves someone who loves her.”

“She does,” Matt admitted, his shoulders slumping slightly. “But that person won’t be me. I’ll talk to her. I’ll tell her the truth.“ he says.

“And what if she wants you to be that person?” The question hung in the air like a dark cloud, the unspoken reality neither of you wanted to face.

Matt’s hands tightened around yours once more, his grip almost desperate. “Then I’ll find another way,” he said firmly. “I’ll talk to my parents, the council — whoever I need to. There has to be another way.” his voice was almost a plea now — the once storm was still there, but muffled now.

“Matt…” Your voice was barely a whisper. “Sometimes there isn’t.”

He pulled you into his arms suddenly, holding you so tightly it was as if he thought you might disappear. His chin rested on the top of your head, and you could feel his chest rising and falling against you.

“I won’t lose you,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the tears you could hear in it. “No matter what it takes, I won’t lose you.”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into his embrace for what you feared might be the last time. “I love you, Matt,” you whispered. “But this… it’s bigger than us. You can’t fix this.”

“Yes, I can,” he said softly, but there was a crack in his voice that betrayed his own doubt. “I have to.”

For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. There was no Lady Evelina, no arranged marriage, no impossible expectations. There was only Matt, his arms around you, and the love you both felt but couldn’t hold onto.

But reality had a way of creeping back in. And as you pulled away, the weight of what lay ahead settled heavily in your chest.

“Promise me something,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“Promise me you won’t lose yourself in this fight,” you whispered. “No matter what happens, no matter what you have to do — don’t lose the part of you that I fell in love with.”

He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streaked your cheeks. “I won’t,” he said softly, his voice steady now. “But I can’t promise that I won’t fight for you. Because I will. Until my last breath.”

© strnilolover

a/n : holy shit balls y’all. i have been thinking about this for so long and now i have finally, FINALLY, written the first part. i’m not sure how many parts there will be after this or what direction it’ll go in, i’m just building as i go. BUT — i hope you all enjoy this first part 😛

[pianokantzart]

I don't think we talk quite enough about these two NPCs:

At the beginning it's clear that they're supposed to be reflections of Mario and Luigi. The younger brother is skinnier, taller, less experienced, and (initially) easily frightened.

The older brother is shorter and chubbier, more experienced and protective of his sibling.

But when they're reunited, it turns out the two are very much different characters from Mario and Luigi.

The first sign is that the younger brother is pretty blasé while the older brother breaks down into tears of relief. A direct opposite to the way things go when Mario and Luigi are reunited.

Furthermore, the younger brother now embraces danger and desperately wants to go on another adventure, while the older brother forgoes treasure hunting completely in favor of focusing on keeping his sibling safe.

These are two behaviors that don't quite fit with Mario and Luigi.

HOWEVER...

Before Mario and Luigi leave, the younger treasure hunter takes Luigi aside and asks if he can sneak off with them. When he's overheard, not only is the older treasure hunter mad at his brother, but Mario is mad at Luigi for considering it.

This teeny tiny moment lead me to the suspect that the "character arc" these NPCs undergo are fuzzy reflections of Mario and Luigi's desires.

Luigi wishes he could just go though the wringer and come out on the other side with permanent bravado, unable to be shaken and as adventurous as his brother. He more than likely wants the younger brother to embrace this change and pursue his dream.

Mario on the other hand?

I think... while he doesn't dislike being a hero... part of him prefers the idea of just hanging out with his sibling in a world where things aren't consistently on the verge of disaster.

He understands the way the older brother feels, so much so that he deeply objects to the idea of helping the younger one sneak off (especially so soon after they were reunited), and gets mad when Luigi merely hears the idea out.

And I think a more selfish part of Mario likes the idea of telling Luigi to stay home, safe and sound where nothing can hurt him.

Heck... we've probably already gotten a peek into a world Mario gave in to this impulse and tried that approach...