#you are welcome to ask any questions about anything i just said i know it was a lot

[traveler-at-heart]

Sister, wife?

Summary: The team mistakes you for Natasha's sister when you first meet.

Request by @lynattyx

Loki again.

Thor seemed more annoyed than anyone else, but that was only logical. He had spent centuries putting up with his brother.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. Siblings can be a pain” Natasha tried to comfort him, while he looked ready to release a storm over Loki outsmarting him and escaping.

“Speaking from experience, Red?” Stark asked with a curious stare.

“Got a sister” Natasha shrugged her shoulders, looking out the window of the Quinjet as if she hadn’t said anything interesting.

“Really? What’s her name?” Steve said, intrigued.

“I won’t tell you, because if I say it three times you’ll summon her. That’s a reference from…”

“Yeah, I got it” Steve nodded. “I didn’t really like that Beetlejuice”

“That’s because you hate fun” Tony said, stepping forward. “Alright, we have a signal. Anyone up for a cigar? Loki’s close to Cuba”

—

“Lay low. That’s pretty much all you can do now” Maria said with a somber tone over the comms.

Loki had gone a little too far this time, almost getting half of Havana blown up.

Needless to say, the US wasn’t happy with the diplomatic mess the Avengers had created. Maybe that was Loki’s plan all along; make it impossible for them to go after him with the American government on their backs.

Well, he got what he wished for.

“I don’t suppose we can go to the Compound, then” Tony mumbled. “Barton, Red? Any ideas?”

“Coordinates are set. We’ll be there in a few hours. Try to get some sleep. All of you”

No one was in the mood to ask questions. If Natasha said it was a safe place, then they’d take her word for it and be done with the matter.

“You sure about this?” Clint said, looking at her from the copilot seat.

“Yeah. She’ll just give me a hard time for not telling her in advance. You know how she likes to have everything extra clean when there are guests”

“How did you manage to score such a gal?” he joked and Natasha glared at him.

“Hey, I’m a catch. My mac and cheese is delicious”

“Whatever you say, Tasha”

—

The Quinjet landed, and the only way you could tell was by the tree branches moving with a sudden gust of wind.

“Hey” Natasha said with a coy smile, going up the steps as the rest of the team got off the jet, looking around curiously.

“Welcome home” you pulled her into a hug. “Should have told me they were coming, and I could have cleaned up a bit”

“I missed you too” she joked against your ear, and as she was about to lean and kiss you, Tony interrupted the moment.

“Hey, Romanoff and Romanoff”

“You must be Tony. I’ve heard a lot about you”

“Have you? Because Natasha here didn’t tell us much about you”

“She was probably worried about you running your mouth” you joked, making him smirk.

“You have heard about me”

As Steve walked in, Natasha waited for Clint to show him something she wanted to fix in the garage.

The house was big and in the middle of a little wooded area.

“You’re gonna have to share rooms. And someone will sleep on the couch” you warned them.

“Not it” Tony said, as you pulled out a pillow and a blanket from the closet.

“I’ll take the couch” Steve offered, which of course he did. “Thank you…”

“Y/N” you nodded, waiting for Tony to follow you.

“Barton? Thor?” he looked around.

“Oh, Clint’s probably scolding Natasha because she didn’t fix the ceiling like he told her to” you laughed. “Thor flew away like thirty seconds after landing. And burned part of my lawn in the process”

“So sorry about that. It’s quite the thing to hang out with these brutes. So, uh, what do you do?”

“I’m a Psychiatrist” you answered, opening the door to the guest room.

“Get to see Natasha a lot?”

“Not as much as I’d like”

“Come by the Compound anytime you like. I’ll send you a pass or shall I just say your name three times?”

“What?” you tilted your head in confusion.

“Nothing. Thanks for letting us crash” he rubbed his neck.

“Sure. Get some rest”

You ran into Clint as he went upstairs, knowing his way around the house.

“She’s outside”

“Is she… is she ok?” you said, sighing. It was one thing to see it in the news, and another one to know she was out there risking her life against literal Gods and aliens.

“Just tired” he assured you. “Seeing you will help. Have a good night”

“You too. Sorry to say you’re sharing a room with Tony”

“Ah, jeez” he groaned, making you laugh.

Steve was lying in the couch, restless. He waved at you shyly as you walked out, knowing Natasha was waiting in the porch.

Honestly? They were a nice bunch.

“Hey” you said, stepping out.

“Hi, detka”

“You ok?” you said, leaning your chin against her shoulder, with your arms around her waist.

“Just tired”

“Funny, that’s exactly what Clint said”

Natasha chuckled at that, squeezing your hands.

“He knows me”

“I know you better”

“Do you, now?” she turned around, quirking up an eyebrow and smiling at you. “So, what do you think I want right now?”

“Cuddles with your wife and then tomorrow morning I think you’ll be in the mood for blueberry pancakes and hot cocoa”

“Damn, you do know me well” she laughed, kissing your temple. “Come on, let’s go to bed”

—

You were up next morning, and unsurprisingly, Steve had already been out and running a good ten miles.

“The rest?” he said after greeting you.

“Clint got up early to fix what Natasha broke trying to fix the other thing that broke, God bless his soul. Tony’s asleep and so is Nat”

“Really? Even Romanoff? She’s up at break of dawn”

“Nah, not when she’s home. Now clean yourself up, breakfast is almost done”

“Yes, Ma’am”

Natasha was the first one down, as your room had a private bathroom. By the sounds from upstairs, you suspected the boys were arguing over who go to use the other restroom first.

“Hear that sound? Children. Ready for all that?” Natasha said.

“Yeah, but ours will be cute. And we’ll make Clint build another bathroom” you said, getting a pancake out of the pan.

“You’re so smart, that’s why I love you”

“Only that?” you said, laughing as you felt her hands go around your waist.

“Among other things”

You turned around to protest, but her lips stopped you from saying anything.

“I did miss this” she said, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. You moaned against her mouth, forgetting there were more people in the house until you heard Tony slam the door to the bathroom. Natasha went to get some coffee, and you wished she’d kept kissing you.

But the teasing would be endless if they caught you in the middle of it.

“Bathroom's all yours, Cap! Morning, Romanoffs”

“Morning, Tony” you said. “Help yourself to some pancakes and coffee”

“Delicious, thank you”

Steve came down a few minutes later, at the same time Clint walked in, announcing that he had fixed the thing.

“You’re a hero” you said, grateful. “Don’t worry, darling, you’ll get it right next time” you added as Natasha pouted.

“Mean”

“It comes with the territory, doesn’t it?” Tony said. “Including all the hair pulling and slapping and fighting for bras”

“Ah, what?” you said, confused.

“Hey, don’t speak to my wife that way, asshole” Natasha slapped the back of his head, making him choke on his coffee.

“Did you just say wife?” he turned to look between the two of you.

“Yes, Y/N is my wife. Who did you think she was?”

“The maid?” you joked.

“The sister!” Tony looked at Steve for backup.

“Well, to be fair… yeah”

“My sister’s name is Yelena” Natasha said, massaging her temples. “Y/N and I have been married for almost two years now. And I didn’t want you to know because you’ll be insufferable about it”

“Babe, they’ve been good so far” you chuckled, squeezing her hand.

“We can behave, honey boo” Tony said.

“Ok, yeah. I get it now” you rolled your eyes.

“Either way, you’re coming to our party” Tony said, poruing himself more coffee.

“When is it?”

“Whenever we get our hands on that Asgardian bastard”

“Language” you said at the same time as Steve.

“This is gonna be fun” Tony laughed, looking at you over his cup of coffee. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Romanoff”

[beloveds-embrace]

noona. noon. any angsty thoughts to share for the duke au? 👁️ (i’m craving angst sorry)

Original post. || cw: angst, neglect

I DO!! Angst version of the au would be if you weren’t welcomed at all. Sure, no one is being flat out rude to you, no one is actively sabotaging you and John doesn’t hit or force you into anything.

But it’s lonely.

The maids barely touch you, as if disgusted they have to help and tend to the woman their Duke needed to and not wanted to marry, and the butlers are the same. Especially the head butler Garrick. You still don’t know his first name and he doesn’t seem inclined to tell you.

During the dinner… nights with John, you’ve started noticing that your food isn’t quite as well done as his? Less decorated, occasionally burnt or not cooked well, but you don’t want to cause any trouble so you remain silent and John never asks why you seem to eat so little.

You do also meet Duke Riley, the man that John is said to have an incredibly close friendship with, something born during his time servicing the kingdom. You’ve heard so much about him, from bad to good, and you wonder how he actually is.

In the end, you wish you hadn’t met him, too. The humiliation of being flat-out ignored in your own home while he speaks amicably with John…

So yes. Life as Duchess Price isn’t a happy one, but you are just glad you aren’t physically hurting.

But you do find solace in the only kindness your parents had bothered to show you before they gave you away; your personal knight, König. He is the only one to not treat you as such. He is the only one you can confide in, feel just a little bit of happiness and friendship with even if you haven’t even seen his face yet.

“I’m so tired,” you whisper to him one night, under the blanket of the night sky. You’d thrown a simple shawl over your shoulders, and hadn’t questioned it when he fell in steps behind you, always a protective shadow. Today had been hard. You had also decided to no longer dine with John, not too excited about the lackluster food and the stilted conversations. Cold maids, lonely night… you ached for something more.

You take in a shuddering breath, wrapping the shawl tighter around yourself. Konig stands right beside the bench you are sitting on, a familiar and comforting sight and presence. But tonight, it’s not enough. “I’m so tired, König.” You repeat, your voice cracking.

König simply stares at you for a while; you are used to it, used to everything about him. The mask, the accent, the unyielding body that is always keeping you safe. The quiet congestions you have had, during the days you lock yourself away in your office to ignore the loneliness and sadness plaguing you.

You aren’t used to seeing König bend down in front of you, holding his hands out until you place them in his. Familiar pale eyes peer up at you. Proper etiquette doesn’t matter to you in this moment; who will chastise you for the lack of it when this entire duchy holds only the most basic form of respect for you?

Even if they did, you would not let go of König, your confidant. Your knight.

“…What do you need, mylady?”

After a silent moment, you take in a deep breath and look back at him. “…I want… someone who loves me enough to be kind towards me. I want someone who loves me.”

König nods his head. With bated breath, you watch silently as he brings your hands forward, under his mask, to kiss each knuckle on your hands.

“I am your knight, mylady. I am your sword, and your shield. I, too, can be your lover if that is what you want, mylady. Whatever you desire, it is my duty to provide.” König breathes out against your skin, eyes not once flicking away, words not once breaking. He is fully devoted in his decision. “Will you allow me, mylady? The decision is your, always has been. I cannot take you away from this horrible place-“ not yet. “-but I can give you my love and devotion, just as I’ve always done. Will you allow me, mylady?”

And after everything you’ve been through, all the pain and loneliness and exclusion- you can’t say no.

“…Yes, König.”

(By the time John begins to realize that he may have misjudged you, once you find out the truth, it is already far too late for mending any bridges. There is no particular feeling when you look at him, or any of his men. You only ask that no one bothers your time alone with your shadow, your knight. It’s far too late for anything.)

Part 2 + dukedom au masterlist

[keeper-of-all-the-random-things]

Tis not the prompt, but also not not the prompt. It gets there (sort of) by the end :)

…

The pastry was a work of art, delicate custard in a gold swirling crust and adorned with flowers made of fruit slices and colored sugars. Theo was almost afraid to eat it for fear it wouldn’t taste nearly as good as it looked. He observed it from every angle before taking a small bite.

He melted. It was the most glorious thing he’d ever had. He closed his eyes and savored each subsequent bite until all that was left were crumbs. He had to check himself before he licked the plate.

“Need a box?”

Theo jumped and remembered he was in a public bakery. He glanced up to find the baker’s daughter grinning at him, a serving tray propped against her hip.

“I think I might,” he said, passing her his empty plate. “Wouldn’t want any of this to go to waste.”

The next time he visited, the baker’s daughter was behind the counter arranging cakes in the glass display case. She smiled at his arrival.

“Welcome back! What can I get for you?”

Theo thought a moment and said, “Surprise me.”

He sat at the same table as the first time and tried to draw the pastries, the bakery, the baker’s daughter. The simple lines couldn’t capture the magic of the place. Theo wasn’t sure he’d be able to describe it if asked. He just knew the week had dragged on forever as he waited to return.

“Is that me?” The baker’s daughter arrived with a covered dish.

Theo blushed and resisted the urge to cover the drawing. He nodded.

She touched her hair as if the drawing were the first time she’d ever seen herself. “It’s nice.”

“Thank you …”

“Piper.” She smiled. She was always smiling.

“Thank you, Piper.”

Almost as an afterthought, Piper handed him the plate, uncovered to reveal a trio of brightly colored truffles arranged in a shallow bowl. A few minutes later, she returned to replace Theo’s empty bowl with a box wrapped in grey ribbon. She said, “A surprise for later.”

At home, Theo went straight to his room, carefully avoiding his family and the staff. He wasn’t sneaking. He just didn’t want to answer questions. He didn’t get a chance to open his gift before a knock interrupted him. Fern, Theo’s favorite staff member, stuck her head in then closed the door behind her.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she said, “but your parents are looking for you.”

“Weather?”

“Clear. For now.”

Theo smoothed his shirt and nodded. “Okay. Ready.”

He followed Fern and wondered what his parents wanted. When both of them called a meeting together, it was hardly ever a good thing. He was taken aback when he found them smiling at him.

Fern patted his back and deftly exited before she could be drawn into the conversation.

“My darling,” Mother said, “you know your father and I love you.”

That was not an encouraging start.

“And we want you to take your time to grow into yourself,” Father added.

Mother took Theo’s hand. “We don’t want to pressure you –”

“– but we’re not getting any younger –”

“– and we want to make sure you’re settled –”

“– in case anything happens to us.”

Theo stared, uncomprehending.

Father must have sensed his confusion. “Marriage, son. We’re talking about marriage.”

Theo balked. “Surely there are other measures of security that aren’t marriage.”

“We’ve already arranged a few dates for you,” Mother said as if Theo hadn’t spoken.

“Oh my go–”

“It’ll be fun,” Father said.

“Fun.” Theo extracted his hand from his mother’s and slowly backed away. “Please excuse me while I process this for the next two to eighty business days.”

He managed to close the door behind him before breaking into a run.

…

“Is that for your crush? Mr. Dreamy McDreamboat?” Rosie asked from the sink.

“Never say that again,” Piper groaned. “He’s not my crush.” She finished sprinkling a layer of sparkling sugar over her latest creation.

“But it is for him, right?”

“No.”

Rosie smirked, relentless.

“Fine, yes.” Piper sealed the box with more force than strictly necessary and placed it in the cooler in anticipation for her definitely-not-a-crush’s visit.

He’d quickly become a favored regular. Piper looked forward to surprising him with new desserts that he drew and studied like they were the greatest things he’d ever seen.

“Ooh! Here he comes!” Rosie’s voice rang through the kitchen. “Better fix your face before you scare him away with all the drool.”

Piper waved dismissively in Rosie’s direction. “Hi, Theo.”

Theo took a few seconds to find her then broke into a smile. Piper enjoyed making him smile, though she would never admit it to Rosie.

“Hi, Piper,” Theo greeted as he browsed.

Piper enjoyed watching him choose from her creations. She enjoyed his greeting and his conversations and fine. She had a crush. But Rosie didn’t need to know.

She waited until Rosie finished her shift and went home before making her way to Theo’s table with the box she’d prepared. She gripped it tightly, trying to calm the sudden bout of nerves.

Theo looked up at her approach. His sketchbook sat open to a colorful drawing of the display case, cakes popping brightly fading to half finished breads and Piper in the background kneading dough.

Piper nearly tripped over her own foot. She stood near the table, once ordered plan a jumbled mess in her head.

Theo noticed, his easy grin quieting into concern as he asked, “Everything alright?”

She thrust the box toward him with both hands and said in a rush, “Will you go out with me?”

His face went through a whole run of emotions.

Piper’s face burned. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to say yes. Obviously. I just … sorry.” She pulled the box back towards her body.

Theo stopped her, gently taking the box. “I’d love to.”

“Really?” Piper smiled tentatively.

“Really.” Theo smiled back in near full radiance, but Piper couldn’t help noticing his eyes seemed sad.

…

“Are you okay?”

Theo looked up from the blank page he’d been staring at for the last ten minutes. Piper watched him quizzically.

“I’m okay,” Theo said, but he had trouble working up the smile he knew she expected. They’d been on several dates since she’d first asked him. Dinners, movies, bowling. Completely normal activities for completely normal people. Theo went home feeling like a fraud. He didn’t want to ruin anything with responsibility. His parents didn’t know about Piper yet. Their deadline loomed over him, making every date with Piper feel like an ending. He had to tell them.

He had to tell her.

“Something’s wrong,” Piper said now. “You’ve been staring at nothing for a long time. And you haven’t eaten your dessert.” She plopped down in the seat opposite him.

Theo studied the pastry to avoid eye contact. He tapped his pencil in an uneven rhythm on the table, his knee bouncing at a separate beat.

Piper’s friend watched them with no attempts at subtlety from behind the counter.

“Theo. Are you in trouble?”

“Yes. No. I …” Theo shook his head. Piper’s concern made his guilt burrow deeper.

“Do you … are we breaking up?”

He should. He should let her go, but selfishly, he didn’t want her to leave.

“No, no.” He offered a smile that felt like a grimace and bit into the latest work of art Piper created for him. He let the flavors melt slowly, slowly, stalling, before saying softly, “I think you’re the one.”

…

“Piper, I think you’re the one.” Theo’s expression seemed more sad than ‘in love’ as he held the remains of his dessert.

Piper tried to piece together his scarce clues and ended up more confused that she was at the start.

He whispered, “She’s the one,” as if trying to convince himself of his own feelings.

Piper’s confusion spiked with fear when several people in dark suits surrounded the table. Theo wouldn’t meet her eye.

“What’s going on?” Rosie came out of the back room, approaching their table.

The suits tightened their circle, otherwise ignoring Rosie’s advance.

“Pip, are you alright?”

“You’ve been chosen,” said a stern looking woman to Piper’s left, “by the Crown Prince Theodore Archibald Prescott –”

“Crown Prince?” Piper blanched.

Rosie froze, wide eyed, just outside the circle.

“– to be married by the month’s end,” the woman finished.

“Married!” Piper protested as another suit pulled her out of her seat by her arm. “Theo –”

Theo said nothing. He stared at the floor and didn’t get up until the suits had dragged Piper to their vehicle. One suit stayed behind to keep Rosie from following.

“Don’t hurt her,” Piper called out as she was shoved into the dark interior of the car.

“We don’t have any reason to if you cooperate,” the stern woman said without looking back. “She’ll be left alone as soon as we make the palace.”

The palace.

Piper stilled as the situation caught up to her fully.

Theo climbed into the car and sat opposite Piper and the suit. He glanced at Piper once before fixing his gaze on his shoes.

Piper glared at him for the whole ride.

It was announced the prince was looking for a wife, but the baker girl didn’t care. That was until the very tired and sad-looking boy wearing a hoodie and sweatpants bit into a cherry tart, looked as if he was about to weep, and whispered: "She’s the one." Then a bunch of officials entered.

[heartmix]

My Girls - MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x singlemom!reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warning: poking fun at max, dad!max, no use of y/n but daughters name is Aria

A/N: dad max content. I have a part 2 in mind so that will be coming soon

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

"Can I ask you a question, it's totally okay if you say no."

"What is it?"

"When do you think I'll be able to meet her?" the question caught you off guard. 

You knew what he was asking, he was asking when he'd be able to meet your daughter. Being a young single mom was not in the books for you. With her father leaving before she was even born you quickly tossed out the idea of finding a relationship. Sure, there have been many instances where people dated single parents, but since you had her when you were young, the idea did seem impossible. You've been preparing for the moment for months, but it still caught you off guard. Coming up on a year of being together it was bound to happen. 

Noticing your silence he quickly tried to defuse the tension, "I mean it's totally up to you. I don't mean to rush you or anything, I want to let you know that I'm committed to you and I'm not going anywhere. I want to be there for both of you."

"Sure." 

"Sure?" He clarified, a smile spreading across his face quickly, one you matched instantly. A simple nod was all he needed to take you into his arms and give you the most bone-crushing hug. Seeing him make a big deal settled all your nerves.

Max's hand was shaking way too much to be meeting a 2-year-old. From the stories you told about the little one, he saw that she was friendly and was willing to meet new people so the fact that he was shaking so much was comical. He's had meetings with some of the richest people in the world and met world leaders, hell people would have this reaction meeting him and he would laugh it off saying he was just a normal person. So why was this little one making him more nervous than a race day? 

It had to do with the fact that she was yours—the light of your life and the only person in your life you prioritized. The more he thought about it, the more that person became you to him, and this was just the final step to make everything feel real. If the little girl didn't like you, he knew you wouldn't hesitate to break it off, and he couldn't blame you.

With one final head shake to try and get rid of the nervousness he knocked on the front door. Did he knock too hard that he startled the little one? Should he have knocked? Maybe he should have texted you he was outside. It's been months since he knocked on your door, having his own key to the place. Before he could think of any other ridiculous thoughts the door opened the reveal you, standing in all your glory with that welcoming gorgeous smile he fell in love with. 

"I can't believe meeting my kid got you out of wearing a Red Bull kit. I can't even get you to do that." Your teasing tone snapped him out of the trance. Max couldn't help but laugh at that being your comment in a situation like this. 

"It's just a black shirt schatje. I can hardly say I dressed up." he glanced looking down at his black shirt and some jeans. He would be lying if he said he didn't think about what to wear today. 

"Oh please, Max Verstappen outside of anything Red Bull is dressing up." 

"You're not helping." he groaned seeing as you were enjoying every minute of this. He was going to get payback, if everything went okay after all.

"Why are you so nervous?"

"How are you not?" He asked not seeing any concerning features. He expected you to be more worried and in a worse state than him actually.

"Because I know you, I know how great you are, and that my baby will love you." You smiled while wrapping your arms around his neck, Max immediately circling his around your waist. Maybe if you weren't worried he shouldn't be either. "Come on, she's expecting you." Grabbing his hand and pulling him further into the house.

Before he rounded the corner to the living room he heard the sound of what to be a Disney song playing on the speakers and toys clashing with one another. He's been to your house enough times to know how much toys littered the living room. When the living room came into view he saw the little girl sitting on the ground surrounded by blocks and little toys he didn't recognize. 

"Aria, baby. I want you to meet Mommy's friend. This is max. Can you say hi?" Max didn't leave your side as you leaned down to grab the girl's attention. Her eyes immediately locked onto his the second she recognized there was a stranger in her house.

"Hi!" She beamed up at the tall Dutchman with the biggest smile on her face. Seeing that smile every last bit of nerves washed away. Just like seeing your smile for the first time, he knew he was screwed in the best way possible. 

"Hi, Aria. Lovely to meet you."

"Can Max spend the day with us?" you then asked although, with one look at the smirk on your face, he knew the answer. 

"Play with me?" In the cutest voice Max ever heard, he wasted no time sitting next to the girl who held a stuffed cat up to his face.

"Of course. I would love to!"

"Baby, why don't you show Max your cars."

"My cars!" She excitedly said before running to her room to retrieve her cars. Not a second later she came back with a bag filled with a few cars. Max was expecting Hot Wheels or toys from the cars movie, in no way was he prepared for the girl to pull out a replica of his car. 

"Do you know the cars we watch every week? That's Max and that's his car." You pointed out watching the girl's face turn into shock. 

"You 1?" Turning to Max who held the same shock expression as hers.

"I am. You like cars?" At this, she let out a little squeal and pushed the car into his hand. 

One by one she pulled out every car she had even the names she gave each of them. Max was 1, the McLarens were orange, and more specifically Lando was 4. The Ferraris were horsey and the one Mercedes car being Lewis of course was pretty due to the fact that she could only point out Lewis out of his racing gear. 

By the end of the day, Aria was all tired out. After all day playing with Max and telling stories at dinner, she passed out beside Max on the couch while watching cars. Your choice of movie just to poke fun at Max more. Taking her to bed you saw that Max pulled out wine from the fridge and handed you a glass before settling on the couch. The stark contrast from the noise-filled day to the quietness of just you two was a reality check for Max. He made it through and from the way you were cuddled up into his side, he knew that he was right where he needed to be. 

"Thank you. For being so good with her, she loved you so much, probably just as much as me. You made her day and she is going to be excited to see you in the morning."

"You don't need to thank me for anything. I should be thanking you for letting me into the biggest part of your life. You are doing such a wonderful job with her, you're an amazing mother." At his confession, you couldn't help but feel tears brim your eyes.

"I'm sorry, silly thing to get emotional about but that means a lot. I'm just happy you accept me and her with everything we have going on." Before your hands could wipe the tears streaming down your cheek his hands wiped them away. 

"I meant it when I said I'm with you through everything. I wouldn't change anything about you or her. I want you to know I love you both and I'm not going anywhere."

"You're such a freaking sap Max Verstappen. If your fans could see you now." You teased making him chuckle. 

"The duality of you to turn a heartfelt moment into teasing me." 

"You signed up for it when you agreed to date me."  

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

[taeyongdoyoung]

that's a warning

summary: your professor's age is not a problem to you. and neither is his dark secret... pairing: professor!chan x uni student!reader genre: dark academia, vampire!au, smut warnings: professor/student dynamic, age gap (unspecified), mentions of toxic friend, descriptions of blood, kissing, biting, eating out, blowjob, daddy kink (who's surprised?), ddlg implied, size kink, unprotected sex, forbidden relationship, insecurities, danger kink author's note: this is based on a dream i had + inspired by railway, obviously. read at your own risk 🥵 too many references to the song's lyrics in bold, sawrryyy word count: 3k

The moment you set your eyes on Professor Bang, you know that you need to have him. You've never felt an attraction so intense, so overpowering, so sinister in its obsession. You are willing to go to any lengths to get close to him. Even if it kills you.

It starts off innocent, almost childlike. The way you stay after his lectures to ask him silly questions (you know the answers to) about the homework. Sometimes you ask him about the location of other lecture halls (even though you've been to them hundreds of times). Sometimes you go to his office hours just to be alone with him (even though you are perfectly confident in understanding the study material).

At first, Chan accepts your incessant flood of questions with an easy-going smile. If he's being honest with himself, he likes the attention. It's been a while since someone's been that interested in talking to him. Especially someone so…young. Most students usually avoid his intense stare. He's been told it's far too intimidating. He tries to be welcoming to everyone but he's not sure he's doing a good job.

But as the semester nears its end, his patience wears thin. You always get full marks on your assignments and quizzes so he doesn't understand why you are constantly asking for his "help". And he's certain you know your way around the university better than any other student. You're always on time and your homework is flawless 100% of the time. So, he really doesn't get it. Are you messing with him? Is it funny to you to joke around with a poor old lonely professor?

Chan's decided he's had enough. And this time, when you catch him alone after the lecture, he's going to confront you.

"Cut the act," Professor Bang scolds you directly. "I know you know the answer to that question. Why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing what, Professor Bang?" you ask innocently, while batting your eyelashes.

"Pretending you're dumb. It's obvious you're a top student, so why are you always asking me stuff?" he grunts and pins you down with his intense gaze you're so addicted to.

Hell, you've never felt more terrified. It excites you.

"Don't you know already?" you mumble quietly. You want to look away but you're trapped in his beautiful dark eyes. So you don't.

"Is it fun, messing with an old man like me, huh? Is it some stupid college dare?" Chan asks, his insecurities getting the worst of him.

"You're not old," you insist passionately. "There's no dare. I just…like you."

"You…like me?" he repeats in disbelief.

You nod furiously, trying to convince him of your sincerity.

"But…why?"

"What do you mean why? You're so smart and handsome and sometimes even cute. I like…how you explain stuff like you don't think anyone is dumb, you're so patient and…warm."

Huh. Warm? It's been a while since someone's used that word to describe him, Chan thought.

"You do realize we could both get in trouble if…" he can't even believe he's even considering this. "If we were to…pursue something outside of the university walls?"

Fuck it, he said it.

"I know. I won't tell anyone, I promise," you are desperately grasping at straws as you find yourself so close to the one thing you've ever wanted more than anything.

Professor Bang shakes his head.

"I'm not asking you to keep it a complete secret. Just…if you choose to share it with people, be careful who you trust."

"I understand, Professor, I'll be careful," you promise.

"And…call me Chris or Chan or something," he shrugs. "When it's just us two."

God. It's really happening.

"Let me take you out to a restaurant," he offers suddenly. "Tomorrow evening?"

"That sounds amazing!" you grin excitedly.

Your first date with Chan arrives and you are so happy you feel like you could die. You don't wanna jinx things so soon and don't tell anyone where you're going.

"You look stunning," he compliments your dress as he pulls a chair out for you.

"Thank you so much, Chris," you smile and take a seat. "You look absolutely dashing, as always."

He chuckles but doesn't respond rightaway.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just…I don't hear that much. Especially not from beautiful young women such as yourself."

"You're surely joking?" you frown. "Anyone would kill to be in my shoes right now."

"You're too kind," Chan replies, not seeming to believe your words and you decide to drop the subject. For now. "What would you like to drink?"

"Hmm…maybe some red wine?"

"Good choice," he smirks. "And food?"

"I'm really into pasta these days!" you squeal with excitement.

Chris orders for the two of you, making your heart flutter for the hundredth time. He's just…so dependable.

Till the food arrives, you busy yourselves with getting to know each other better. Outside of the university walls, it turns out you are both passionate about things other than academic endeavours. And with each glass of red, it becomes easier to share stuff about yourself with him.

As the evening nears its natural conclusion, Chan insists on paying the bill for the food and drinks.

"Now I feel bad," you pout adorably, clinging onto his arm for support, because all the wine made your legs slightly unstable. "Let's go for coffee!"

"I don't…really drink coffee," Chris confesses shyly.

"Tea, then! Please, I don't want to go home just yet. This night is so perfect, I don't want it to end."

"Okay, okay," he agrees easily.

You lead the way to one of your favourite cafés. This time, you excitedly pay for the warm beverages.

"It's snowing outside!" you marvel at the pretty snowflakes falling, illuminated by the street lights.

"Good thing we're all cozy and inside, then," Chan chuckles.

"Yeah…" you smile softly. "I really like you, Chan," you admit.

"I know, you said that a couple of times," he shakes his head, amused.

"Yes, but…you didn't say anything. Do you like me, too?" you inquire self-consciously.

"I do like you. You're very clever and funny and obviously super pretty."

"Really?" you blink furiously to stop yourself from tearing up. You don't get to hear something like that by someone you admire so much. Someone who inspires you to be as diligent and hard-working as him. Scratch that. You don't get to hear words like that very often. It sometimes strikes you how badly you need to be acknowledged for your efforts.

"You must know that."

"No, actually, I don't," you smile sadly. "But it's really nice of you to say it. True or not."

Chan stretches his hand out across the table to hold yours.

"Hey. It's true, okay?"

"Guess I'll stick around to find out, yeah? And maybe I'll help you believe it, too," you suggest.

"Maybe. I'd really like that."

And stick around you do. The next semester, Chan is no longer your Professor, so you don't have to worry so much about getting in trouble with the university's authorities. Eventually, as things start becoming more serious, you decide to share the news about your boyfriend's identity with a few of your closest friends.

Luckily, most of them are super supportive and happy about your relationship. They tell you that you've looked happier recently and are pleased to finally know the reason. There is one friend, however, who is completely against.

"I don't approve. You can't date him," she outright says.

"Can't? Excuse me?" you become aggravated. You've had some fights in the past, situations when she's been jealous of you hanging out with other friends and has done some toxic stuff behind your back. So, her reaction doesn't come as a complete surprise. But still, it sucks that she hasn't outgrown this kind of pettiness.

"He's like…too old for you. And the fact he was your Professor is just…gross."

"How can you say that? You've never even met him."

"Then, let me meet him."

"Why would you meet him if you've already made up your mind?"

"To make sure he's worthy of you, duh."

"That's my call to make. Not yours."

And with that, you leave. This is just…too much. Later, you talk to another friend about this situation to get a second opinion.

"Nah, fuck her. I mean, it's your relationship, she can't dictate how you feel or who you're seeing romantically."

"Right? That's exactly what I've been thinking."

"It sucks that she said those stuff but maybe you're better off," your other friend shrugs.

"Yeah…For the time being, I'll distance myself from her. If she starts acting like an adult, only then will I consider letting her back in."

"That's totally valid," your friend agrees. "Take your time and look after your mental health."

"Thank you so much. I knew you'd get it."

"Always!"

Soon after that, you hang out at Chan's place and you decide to talk talk to him about the falling-out with that toxic friend.

"Well, technically, I am too old for you."

"The fuck you are! Are you taking her side?" you cry out passionately.

"Hell, no! I'm just saying…you could find any college guy your age and…"

"No, shut up, Chris!" you shake your head, refusing to entertain such an idea. "I don't want anyone but you!"

"But I'm dangerous for you," Chan sighs. But you can't believe that. He's been nothing but kind and accepting in the short time you've known each other.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"You'd think I'm crazy if I told you," he grins somewhat devilishly. "It'd be better if I showed you instead. But then, I'd have to kill you."

"W-what?" you stammer, his behaviour totally unlike the gentle guy you're used to seeing.

Suddenly, Chris grabs your wrist and starts pulling you somewhere.

"W-where are we g-going?" you ask helplessly but he doesn't respond. He's too strong to fight him back so you just try to keep up with his speed and follow him down the stairs and into the basement. Where you'll find answers to questions you didn't even know you were supposed to be asking.

When he unlocks the door, you are greeted with red. A lot of it.

"What is all this?"

"Come on, sweetheart, I thought you were smarter than that," Chris chuckles.

"It's…blood banks," you state the obvious, feeling dumber than ever.

"Wow, you don't say," Chris replies sarcastically.

"Why…why do you have all this blood in your basement? Is it like a…kink thing?!" you gasp in shock.

"No, darling, it's not a kink thing," he laughs, the idea incredibly amusing. "Take a guess."

"Are you a serial killer?" you try to think of a logical explanation.

"You're too realistic," Chris sighs. "Think…something you never thought possible."

"You're…a vampire!" you exclaim triumphantly.

"Bingo," he confirms unenthusiastically. "So, your friend was correct to worry. I am too old for you. And bad for you. I never should have let this go so far."

You shake your head.

"N-no, she's not right," you disagree. "I don't care."

"You don't care?" Chris tilts your chin up, facing you directly. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to restrain myself from sucking your blood dry?"

You gulp nervously but refuse to believe he'd actually do that. Especially considering he hasn't done so already…

"Why did you become a Professor surrounded by so many humans if self-control is so hard for you?" you push back cleverly.

"It's never been a problem for me to control my thirst. Until you."

"Then, why did you let me get so close?" you inquire.

"Because I was weak…And lonely. I shouldn't have let you in."

Your eyes tear up with emotion.

"Are you saying you'd be happier without me?"

"Happier?" Chris scoffs. "No, I wouldn't be happier. But you would be safer without me."

"Fuck that," you argue. "I am safe when it's just you and me. Knowing you're a vampire changes nothing about how I feel about you."

"Then, you're even more insane than I am," Chris sighs, unable to deny the growing tension between you two.

You kiss him roughly to prove him right, digging your fingers into his soft hair. He kisses you back just as hungrily, incapable of letting you go.

Yes, he may be dangerous for you. But so are you. Willingly pursuing him, not running away from him despite knowing the truth.

He grabs your hair and pulls back, exposing your neck.

"Last chance to get out of here. That's a warning," Chris whispers darkly.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you grin, completely trusting him.

Even if he was your Professor, even if he is way older than you than you initially thought, even if he is a blood-sucking predator, there is no one else you'd trust so unconditionally, so irrevocably.

"What if I hurt you?" he asks, a hint of worry making his dark eyes glow with warmth.

"You couldn't," you insist and close your eyes, tilting your neck. "You can bite me, if you want."

"You're crazy," Chris repeats.

"I trust you," you speak your thoughts out loud.

And this is his breaking point. He attacks your neck with his sharp fangs, not wanting to hold back any longer. The bite stings but in such a sweet way you would be happy to go, if this was your fate…As he drinks from you, you weakly wrap your hands around his neck for support, needing him to ground you. Just as badly as he needed one taste from your delicious blood. If your blood is what Chris needs for survival, then he will surely be your undoing.

Somehow, against all reason, Chan manages to detach his fangs from your neck.

"Fuck," he caresses your neck, smearing the blood all over your porcelain skin. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you murmur dazedly. "I'm okay."

He holds you close, kissing your cheeks and trying to clean up the mess he made.

"Let's get out of here," Chan suggests and lifts you in his arms, carrying you back to the coziness of his place.

"I don't mind," you reassure him. "You being a vampire, that is. I love every part about you. I love...you."

"You…love me?" Chan gasps in surprise.

"I do, I love you," you say once again for good measure.

He doesn't say anything, just kisses you again in disbelief. You hug him tightly, finding so much comfort in his arms. Whatever you've heard about vampires doesn't apply to Chan. He's radiating so much warmth you feel you could burn.

"Hold on tight," he warns and you grip the headboard top rail for dear life, as Chan makes sure to show you blood is not the only thing he's interested in drinking.

As he laps up your juices greedily, you find yourself on the verge of losing your sanity. Your hands give out and you let go of the bed's railings and opt for burying your fingers into his curls once more for support.

"Chris, please, please," you cry out, not even sure what you're begging for. For him to stop? For sweet release? It doesn't matter, as long as he stays with you.

Soon enough, your prayers are answered and you start seeing stars floating in the middle of the room.

"Did I kill you already?" he laughs upon seeing your reaction.

"Try harder," you tease him, even though you are already so gone.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Chris shrugs.

He takes off his jeans and stuffs your mouth full with his giant cock. You try to babble something but it's no use and your helplessness only turns him on more. You hug the back of his knees and let him fuck your throat as he pleases, even though you don't have much of a choice in the matter. Your vision is cloudy with tears and you can't even ask for mercy as his cum starts flooding your mouth. If you thought him drinking your blood was overwhelming, this is on a whole 'nother level of dizzying.

Once he's done using and abusing your throat, he pulls his cock out, smirking at you from above.

"You okay, sweetheart? Still alive?"

"Y-yes, d-daddy," you manage to croak out weakly.

Chris shakes his head in amusement upon hearing the sudden title.

"Then, I guess Daddy's gonna have to give ya a rough ride so you'll forget your own name, huh? How does that sound?"

"More, please," you plead desperately and he makes good on his promise.

He enters you without another warning and you can't keep your screams inside.

"G-god, y-yes," you moan.

"God isn't in this room, darling," Chris cackles maniacally. "The devil, however…"

You kiss him again because he's talking so much your brain can't keep up.

"S-so b-big," you cry.

"Yeah? Too big for my little girl?" he teases you.

"N-no. P-perfect. You're perfect," you insist stubbornly.

Chris fucks into you with supernatural stamina and you are grateful for that because even though you want to, you aren't able of keeping pace with him. Instead, you are happy to just hold onto him and focusing all your energy into…well, not passing out. You're so wet for him that his enormous size slides in and out easily, satisfying both of you with the intensity of the feeling. At last, you cum together, overwhelmed by the passion and affection you feel for each other.

He collapses on top of you, not wanting to pull out just yet. You welcome his weight like he's a giant blanket, comforting you.

"Don't wanna let go of you," Chan murmurs cutely.

You stroke his hair once more with a gentle touch. How is this man who has so many more years of experience still such a cute boy, desperate for tenderness?

"Then, don't. I'm all yours to keep," you chuckle weakly.

"That wouldn't be very productive to our academic future," Chan complains.

"It's okay. I feel like we've both earned a little break," you point out.

"From university? Sure. But when it comes to us two…I need no break. No brakes."

"Nicely said," you giggle, ready for another round on this train that never sleeps.

The End

[ambivalence-is-me]

All I Want (One-Shot)

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Do opposites really attract? Feyre didn’t think so but Y/N and Azriel prove her wrong.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: fluff

A/N: this is kinda from Feyre’s pov, beginning of ACOMF. I’m in love with the idea of someone from the outside looking at two people in love. I’m thinking of turning this into a series? Or just more one shots? Like write about the dates, the wedding, that stuff. Let me know if anyone would be interested to read it!

————————————————————-

Feyre was shocked. Well, lately it seemed that’s all she was: shocked with a side of skeptical and scared. How else was she supposed to feel after everything she’s been through? She’s thinking of the very first times Rhysand took her to the Night Court. It was during one of those ‘’visits’’ that she first met you.

‘’She’ll help you with anything you need’’ he had said and that you did.

Feyre had taken one look at you and didn’t really know what to think. Physically you didn’t look like a threat, you were beautiful (it seemed there weren’t ugly faes) and your posture was relaxed, like you weren’t standing in front of the Cursebreaker but just another fae. You were smiling kindly at her, no judgement in your eyes and then you started talking.

And you never really stopped.

You were a yapper. Answered all of Feyre’s questions as best as you could and more. You walked her through the court’s history, culture, customs, everything. On her second meeting with you, she had concluded you definitely weren’t a threat. Instead, you were easygoing, kind and just freaking…happy? It seemed like you were always shinning, that nothing can bring you down. Feyre had tested that after a particularly bad day when Rhysand was driving her up the wall. But instead of running away, you stayed and helped her, saving Rhys from another shoe-throwing incident.

You had this soft and gentle angle that reminded her of her sister Elain. But you weren’t quite as graceful as Elain. You were louder, clumsier and upbeat, not afraid to strike up a conversation with anyone about anything. And you definitely weren’t like her sister Nesta but she could tell you shared her observation skills.

Truthfully, for Feyre, you were a saving grace. Someone she could go to in this new world that was thrown at her. She never really expressed any of this of course, scared that if someone found out you’d be in harm's way but she kept you close to her whenever possible.

That’s why Feyre was extremely happy that you were accompanying her to a dinner with Rhysand’s family. Thanks to the information Feyre had gathered from you and meeting them beforehand briefly, she inferred that you obviously knew them but you never stated what was your relationship with them.

Which is why Feyre is now shocked to see the turn of events.

She had expected you to be close friends with them, how can you not? You were a social butterfly and if Rhysand’s family was anything like him, she was sure you had befriended all of them. And you had but not in the way Feyre had expected.

‘’Feyre darling, care to share why you look so shocked?’’ Rhysand asked her with that stupid smile of his. But she couldn’t even bother to answer him, not when she was still staring at the scene in front of her.

Again, Feyre had met these faes…briefly. She’d experience Mor’s welcoming energy, Cassian’s cheeky smiles and jokes, Amren’s silver bright eyes and of course…Azriel’s quiet and intimidating presence. The latter preferring to stay in his shadows and observe the chaos around him.

Which is why Feyre NEVER expected for him to be with…you.

Obviously Feyre didn’t know him, not at all, just what you and Rhysand had told her but she was confident that her observations of him helped her come up with an idea of him. It seemed that she was wrong.

They were all gathered in this beautiful grand room, just chatting and sipping on expensive wine before dinner. Cassian and Amren were in conversation in a corner of the room, the latter looking annoyed at whatever the big Illyrian was saying. You, Mor and Azriel occupied a big comfortable looking sofa. You and Mor leading the dialogue and Azriel, unsurprisingly, was just sitting there listening and assessing. But that’s not what had Feyre shocked. No, it was the fact that you were almost sitting on the Shadowsinger’s lap.

He had one whole arm wrapped around your waist, it screamed ‘’she’s mine’’. His other hand touching your hair softly, as if he put any more pressure on it, it would break. His eyes went back and forth between all of the faes in the room but stayed mostly on you. And Feyre didn’t know if he knew that he was smiling.

SMILING

A small soft smile that Feyre didn’t know the Shadowsinger was capable of. It made him look a thousand times more irresistible. A thought that didn’t go unnoticed by Rhys, who arched an eyebrow at her in return. But Feyre didn’t say anything, she opted to try and hide her surprise and continue on with the evening.

An evening that only continue to bamboozle her. At the dinner table, you were sitting infront of Feyre. Azriel on your left side, Cassian on your right. It was a pretty funny picture Feyre would love to paint. Your frame and sunshine aura in the middle of two big intimidating Illyrian soldiers. As she had expected, you were mostly leading the conversation during dinner. Cassian and Mor quickly keeping up with your jokes and laughter, Rhysand chimed in at times but seemed content to take it all in with a soft smile. But Feyre was observing Azriel and Azriel was observing you.

His eyes didn’t seem to wander off too much, seemingly staying on you throughout the night. He looked at you like you held the world in your hands. Honestly, Feyre had never seen anything like this up close. There were no doubts that this male was incredibly in love with you and honestly, Feyre didn’t even know how to react.

Feyre thought she loved Tamlin at one point but now, after witnessing how Azriel looked at you, just this one look, she was extremely in the wrong.

If you moved, Azriel moved. He was so attentive to your needs: refilling your drinks, serving you more food, he held your hand, brushed your hair away from your face; all of it without you having to ask once. At one point, you looked at him with a smile Feyre hadn’t seen from you before and kissed his temple. An act so simple and yet so intimate that Feyre had to look away. Small tears graced the corner of her eyes, her chest felt so…whole?

She was in a room full of so much love that it was overwhelming her. This isn’t what she expected at all.

You seemed to notice that something was wrong with Feyre. Asking her with your eyes what was wrong. But she didn’t say anything, just gave her a look that you hoped would understand that said ‘’we’ll talk later’’. And later you did.

‘’You’re with Azriel?!’’ She had all but exploded the next day when it was just the two of you.

You smiled and said ‘’Yes’’ like it was a fact so obvious that Feyre should’ve have known. But it only confused her more.

‘’But-you-you’re so…’’

‘’Different?’’ You finished. The same smile still on your face. Feyre could only nod.

This wasn’t the first time someone had questioned your relationship with Azriel. To be fair, you were the very first one to question it back when you started courting a couple of hundred years ago. Because the truth was that you and him truly were opposites. You, an extrovert and him obviously an introvert.

But it was your differences that somehow made it work, that completed each other. At the beginning it had taken time. You never seemed to stop talking and you worried that it was only annoying Azriel. But you never did, at least, he insists that you don’t. But you’ve learned to know his little quirks and expressions. You’ve learned when to stop your yapping around him, particularly only for few moments after he’s had a bad day. You’ve learned his ways, and he learned yours.

He learned to interpret the moments when you kept a conversation going because you wanted to and not because you felt like you HAD to. He learned how to ground you back and remind you that your job wasn’t to make everyone’s day brighter. He learned to take care of you, and you took care of him.

You explained all of this to Feyre, a soft smile never leaving your face when you talked about your Shadowsinger and Feyre couldn’t help but smile back.

‘’In the human world, we- ‘’..She cleared her throat. ‘’When people love each other, they get married but here that seems so…miniscule. Like, marriage isn’t enough for the love you and Azriel have.’’

It was the best thing Feyre could say because really, she didn’t know how else to compare the love you and Azriel seemed to have.

You beamed at that. ‘’I thought the same actually but our wedding day was one of the best days of my life. Right after our mating ceremony.’’

Feyre looked confused. Mating ceremony? But you only kept smiling.

‘’ We’d already been married for a hundred years when the bond snapped. Mating bonds are so special and rare, Feyre’’ You looked at her.

‘’I was already blessed to have found a male that loved me and all of my loudness. And then, to be gifted a mating bond with him?’’ You shook your head as if you still couldn’t believe it.

In truth, even many years later, you still couldn’t. And that was all Azriel. He made you feel so incredibly happy and whole. He still made you feel like a fool, as if you’re a female who’s experiencing falling in love for the first time. And perhaps that’s why the shock Feyre had felt still hadn’t left. Because she couldn’t comprehend how you and Azriel made it look like it was just yesterday that you got together. Like you were still in the honeymoon phase.

Feyre had seen married couples in her village. They fought and yelled at each other frequently, almost never held hands and especially didn’t show public display of affection. But what you and Azriel had didn’t look like that AT ALL.

Later, after you had left saying ‘’Azriel said he had a surprise but I’m pretty sure I know what it is. I don’t care what his job description is, I can find out what he’s planning!’’, Feyre was still processing your love story.

It didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem real that two people/fae could love each other so much, who would do absolutely freaking anything, including die, for each other. After her experience with Tamlin, Feyre wasn’t sure if she’d ever have what you and Azriel have. Deep down inside, she wanted it. She felt like she didn’t deserve it, specially after what she’s done but…she hoped that maybe one day, however far it may be, she would have someone who would look at her like Azriel looks at you.

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ

...or him dreaming of you.

★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader

★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.

reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.

both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.

★ author's note.ᐟ this is a bit of a fluffy filler… i have something exciting coming for them it makes me giggle!!

YOU'VE GOT MAIL!

the fall break was coming up, and so far, the only plan you had was to crash over at vivian's place, fully aware that you were less than welcome to go home to your parents. you were on your laptop, your messages with MalachiConstant open on KildareUChats.

YOU: you got any plans for over the break?

MalachiConstant: yeah, a bunch of us are going to our buddy's lakehouse.

YOU: geez, i'm jealous.

MalachiConstant: well i'd invite you to tag along but i'm pretty sure your response would be 'i'd rather die'

YOU: you know me so well, vonnegut. YOU: nah, my plan is to go to my friends' place, we're just gonna spend the entire week playing video games and watching really bad romcoms while eating half our bodyweight in junk food.

MalachiConstant: and is the cat coming too?

you chuckled, looking to angel who was currently munching on her dinner, before turning back to your laptop.

YOU: nah, i got a catsitter. my friend's mom is allergic.

MalachiConstant: damn, cat-free and everything. MalachiConstant: don't do anything i wouldn't do poe

YOU: i don't think there's much you wouldn't do. YOU: i still remember you telling me about diving off a roof into a pool.

MalachiConstant: hey, i used to take swimming lessons. i was a pro at work

YOU: and also under a nice amount of promilles.

MalachiConstant: someone's just jealous because she doesn't have the balls to dive off a roof.

YOU: let's not get it twisted. i'm smart enough to not dive off a roof.

you and vivian were studying in the library for an exam, when she suddenly spoke up. "so… i have some news." vivian looked at you with pursed lips, making you instantly aware that whatever her news was, it would not be good.

"what is it, viv?" you asked, trying not to show to the girl how nervous you were. "come on, spit it out."

"soo... topper kind of invited me to come hang out with him over the break..." she tapped the rubber end of her pencil against the desk. "alright...?" you questioned, your brows furrowed. "what's so bad about that?"

"it's for the whole week." vivian cleared her throat, "at his family's lake house..."

"viv!" you groaned in exasperation, "we have plans. you told him no, right? that we were hanging out for the break?"

"well..." she looked down, doing everything to keep her eyes anywhere but on your face, "i kind of said i'd talk to you about it..."

"i can't believe you." you scoffed, "you're ditching me. you know the crap i go through when i go home and you're-"

"no, it's not like that!" your best friend interrupted, putting her hand on your arm as a way to calm you down. "i told him that i couldn't do it because i was gonna hang out with you, but then he told me to bring you along. and he said i can bring zainab and emilia along, too. zainab said she couldn't make it, but em is fully in."

you shook your head, letting out a soft scoff, "vivian, you know how bad my anxiety is. spending a week with a bunch of strangers sounds like my worst nightmare."

"hear me out." vivian insisted, "most of the football team is gonna be there. which means that your online boyfriend is also likely gonna be there."

"so?"

"so you have a chance to finally find out your mystery guy's identity! then you'll fall in love, get married and have a bunch of babies who'll call me auntie viv and i'll secretly buy them beer when they're too young to buy it themselves."

"i'm seriously starting to think that you don't have any morals."

"i'm dead inside." the pink-haired girl shrugged her shoulders, "so? are you in?"

"what makes you think i want to know the identity of the dude?"

"the fact that you get all giggly whenever your damn phone lights up like you're a middle schooler passing notes with your crush. you wanna be with him, don't you? you're so much more open, so much happier than you were BFB."

"BFB?"

"before frat boy." vivian grinned at her own wit, softly nudging your arm, "you totally have the hots for him."

"no one says that anymore." you rolled your eyes, fiddling with the edge of a sheet of paper, "i'm nervous. what if he doesn't like me?"

"girl, shut up." vivian let out a frustrated groan, "i've seen the messages you send each other. it's like the online version of eye-fucking someone. seriously, you two might as well be sexting, and that would somehow be less couple-y than the shit you have going on now."

"we're not that bad!" you exclaim in feigned offense, making vivian lift her brows, "not that bad? what did the message he sent you last night say again... something about dreaming about just staring into your eyes. him asking you to describe how they look just so it could be accurate?"

you couldn't help but feel your cheeks starting to burn as you thought back to the messages you'd been exchanging the night before.

YOU: i'm currently looking up at the stars. YOU: i actually took an astronomy class a while back!

MalachiConstant: of course you did, nerd. MalachiConstant: you know what'd be nice?

YOU: i'm sure you'll tell me!

MalachiConstant: ha ha. MalachiConstant: i wanna look at the stars with you, poe. i can picture you womansplaining all the constellations and shit.

YOU: aww, that's weirdly kinda sweet. YOU: who are you and what have you done with vonnegut boy?

MalachiConstant: really appreciate how seriously you're taking this MalachiConstant: i dream of you sometimes, you know

YOU: oh? YOU: what do you dream about?

MalachiConstant: all kinds of sappy shit MalachiConstant: i dream of just staring into your eyes MalachiConstant: i'm pretty sure your eyes are gorgeous

YOU: good theory. you don't even know what they look like. does that line seriously work on any girls?

MalachiConstant: maybe you should describe them to me.

you bit down on your bottom lip, vivian looking at you with an expectant look on her face, "he likes you, sweetie. and he's still gonna like you when he finds out who you really are. if he doesn't, then he's a fucking idiot."

"viv-"

"say yes. say that you'll come. what do you have to lose?"

letting out a sigh, you shook your head, vivian looking at you with a pleading look in her eyes. "i hate you, viv."

"is that a yes?"

"yeah." you rolled your eyes, "it's a yes."

TAGLIST: @yktayy9669 @tinythebunni @dywho @melalsworld @akobx @samwinchesterisawhore @st8rkey @jjasmiineee @ltristessedureratoujours @a-lovers-card @uselessnewt @lunaleah @letstryagaintomorrow @cinnamqnnlatte @papapoy @kay133sposts @wtfisastiles @butterfly1c @emmiesummers @melodyyybubbles @toomanywhitelies @littl3loveydovey @scne-vampire @alwaysmaybank @mysticbby2009 @luna443 @drewstarkeyswife-7 @flowerluvr @kisselxoll - cont. in com

[shotmrmiller]

When Johnny takes Simon to his home, and you open the door, Simon's heart stops beating. You direct that lovely smile he's fallen in love with at Johnny as you hug him and usher him inside. Simon's frozen in place, his body refusing to move, because gods, you're a fucking dream.

And then you turn your attention towards him, with ruddy cheeks and pink lips and a delicate neck he could easily wrap his hand around—

"You must be Simon!" and his cock starts to stir. All you said was his name, in that angelic voice of yours, and his blood started to rush to his groin.

When you move to wrap your arms around him in an embrace, he finally breaks from his trance and returns it. Barely. It's awkward— one arm coming up to inelegantly pat your upper back a little too hard, and the other stiff at his side. But you seem completely unbothered, just giving him one last squeeze and step back, holding both of his arms in your dainty hands, and you say, "It's great to meet the one that keeps my Johnny safe. Now, come on in, make yourself at home!"

Simon timidly walks inside, and closes the door behind him, and utters, "Thank you for lettin' me stay here."

The joyful laughter you let out sends exquisite prickles up his spine. "He actually speaks! I'm surprised, Johnny said it took a bit for you to warm up to others," and you give another stomach-fluttering giggle. "You're welcome here any time, Simon. Now let me take you to the room you'll be staying in."

Simon has to carry his duffle bag in front of him as you lead him to the guest room to cover the throbbing erection he's got. When you leave him to freshen up, he wastes no time in pulling his jeans down and taking himself in his hand, stroking firmly. When his imagination paints a picture of you wearing an apron while cooking a meal for him, his vision blurs as he climaxes.

--

Simon knows he's atypical. He has no real decorum. He tells piss-poor dark jokes, inadvertently stares at people when he's lost in thought— and since he's been here, Simon likes to shadow you.

But you don't seem to mind any of it. You laugh at his jokes, the ones Johnny never fails to scoff in disgust at, you tilt your head innocently towards him, silently questioning his intense gaze — and it's so fucking adorable that he's come to that look 8 times in the last 3 days— and you always ask him to reach for things that are out of your reach because you know he's around. (Johnny made a joke once, said that you're being haunted by a ghost, and the quip you replied with as you came to his defense had him dizzy.)

His favorite thing about you though, is how unafraid you are of him. You had rounded a corner and saw his skull mask for the first time, and had you been like any other woman, you would've been startled. But you hadn't been— If anything, you asked him if he wanted it fixed.

"I can see a couple of tears here, Simon. I can patch it up if you like."

It was so deliciously domiciliary that he counted each stitch of his mended mask with his thumb as he touched himself that night.

And then, through the thin walls of the home, he suddenly heard your dulcet moans. He quickly got up and put his skills to use— silently crossing the living room and leaning against the wall closest to your bedroom door.

The bed repeatedly creaked and every choked moan that left you, Simon heard clearly. He hastily took out his achingly hard cock, spit on his palm, and stroked himself to the rhythm of the slapping of skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fucked himself to the thought of him being the one in there with you.

He has no doubt that you'd feel heavenly. Your slick cunt swallowing his turgid length, walls almost painfully tight around him. You'd beg for him to hammer into you, relentlessly, mercilessly. You'd tell him to bite the crook of your shoulder once you were about to come around his cock, and when he actually hears you reach your peak, he rhythmically tightens and loosens his grip, imitating your fluttering walls. His toes are curling inside his socks, he's so bloody close—

And then Simon hears your lascivious voice murmur, "Come in me."

He bites his lip so hard it splits under the pressure as he comes. Tiny, hushed whimpers seeped from behind his mouth, as hot cum spilled onto his fingers, and trickled onto the floor.

The only noise Simon can hear now is his own shaky breath— the fun's over on both sides, it seems. He looks down, gives his softening cock one more stroke, wringing out the last of his seed, before tucking himself away, and sluggishly wiping his mess off the floor with his foot.

He quietly moves, heading back to his room, when he spots your laundry basket in the utility room.

Simon has never believed in luck until now when he's sniffing your knickers in the privacy of the guest room, and he realizes they've been worn. And by how strong the smell of you is, they've been used very recently. He felt like he won the goddamn lottery.

Wrapping it around his cock, he touches himself. Again. And when he comes, he makes sure to spurt his cum directly onto the gusset of the undergarment.

Come morning, when they're all stiff and crusted, he laments that he didn't lick them first, in a pitiful bid to experience a taste of you, before stowing them into a secret compartment in his bag. He makes a mental note to remember to do just that when he takes another pair.

Simon wordlessly makes a cup of tea later, hissing as the hot liquid comes in contact with the small wound on his lip, when Johnny approaches him.

"Mornin' LT."

A grunt is his only reply.

Johnny then shoots him a sly grin.

"Last night, ye weren't as wheesht, as quiet, as ye thought. But dinnae worry, Bonnie doesn't ken a thing."

He claps a hand on Simon's petrified shoulders. "If ye wanted a slice of the cake, ye could've just asked. I dinnae mind sharin'."

Simon gives him a borderline-demented look, puts his tea down on the counter, and clears his throat.

"When?"

[chexxycheol]

Fall Into Desire || 18+ MDNI

☁ Park Seonghwa x Reader x Song Mingi

title Fall Into Desire

synopsis Seonghwa and Mingi argue over who can please a girl best with their tongue "Why don't we let our girl decide"

genre Smut, Fluff, little angst

tags Non-Idol! Seonghwa x Fem! Reader x Non-Idol! Mingi, Seonghwa x Reader x Mingi

warnings Petty arguing, confessions, smidgen angst, smut, oral (f recieving), aftercare, dirty talk, overstimulation?, 18+ minors DNI

nicknames used sweet girl, sweet angel, doll, baby, love

if i missed any warnings, please let me know!

⚘ author first ateez fic to get back into the groove of writing, along with my first smut. please be gentle with this one cause it is my first time writing smut. i will give attention to 13 Forget-Me-Nots but i'm still trying to adjust from my work trip. constructive criticism is welcomed!

this is a work of fiction and should be separated with reality. thank you and enjoy!

—chery

wc 3k

It was quite stupid, watching your two friends argue over who’s better at giving oral. They both sat on opposite sides of your apartment's living room going back and forth over this.

“Dude I told you I can make a girl cum with just my tongue” Mingi said to the elder, his eyes darkening trying to stay calm.

“I don’t know Mingi, I didn’t even know you hooked up with girls” Seonghwa shook his head chuckling. You sat there on your phone deciding to let the two argue it out before asking them what they wanted to eat.

“Who do you think is better Y/N?” Mingi called out to you. You finally looked up from your phone giving him a questioning stare before shrugging and turning back to look at your phone, waiting once again for them to finish this petty argument.

“Why don’t we let our girl decide” Seonghwa suggested, looking at you “Of course, if she’s okay with it” You snap your head to look towards the eldest with a look of disbelief of the suggestion.

Mingi’s expression darkened when you looked at him, you wouldn’t sit there and lie that your two friends were undeniably attractive or that you thought of them in more of a friendly way more times than you’d like to admit but you didn’t want to possibly break your friend group and or cause turmoil between everyone. 

Mingi and Seonghwa noticed your look of uncertainty and Seonghwa waved you over to him and you stood up hesitantly and walked to him, now standing in front of your elder friend he looked at Mingi and patted the seat next to him so they both could talk to you, Mingi got up and sat next to Seonghwa leaned back relaxed with that dark look in his eye. He looked like a predator ready to pounce on its prey if you made the smallest movement.

“Now sweet angel, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Seonghwa asked, grabbing your hand softly, letting you fidget with it to keep yourself grounded. 

You looked between both of them before answering honestly “I don’t want to cause turmoil between not just us three, but the whole group” Mingi’s eyes turned soft before he sat forward and grabbed your waist to move you in front of him and let his hands move on to your hips.

“Doll, you could do no wrong in our eyes, in any of our eyes. If anything the others will be jealous we got to have you first before them” Mingi looked you in the eyes continuing to talk now with uncertainty “We all love you as one of our own and we’ve all talked about you in a more than appropriate way” 

The look on his face was now an uncertain one, he didn’t know if you’d run away at the fact that all eight of them had thought of you in a sexual way, or even a possibly romantic way. Seonghwa had a serious look on his face now but his heart was racing at the possibility that you could run away from them, or even all eight of them.

“Please say something sweet girl” Mingi pleaded, he couldn’t stand your silence now that you knew the truth with your friends. Seonghwa now had that glassy look in his eyes waiting for your answer.

“I have thought about all eight of you in a more than platonic way, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or cause turmoil between all of us. I didn’t want to lose you all” The last part came out quietly but they now knew your feelings, and you knew theirs.

Both men let out a breathe they didn’t know they were holding before Seonghwa grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit on his lap now straddling him, one hand rested on your hip while the other grabbed your chin so you could look him in the eyes before he spoke “Sweet girl, we all want you in more than a platonic way, you’ve had us wrapped around your finger since your first week of uni when we found you in our study room”

“It’s up to you, you can tell us to get out of your apartment and we never talk about this or you can let us indulge you, settle our argument and we can continue this talk with the others” Seonghwa moved his hands off you to rest on his legs giving you an out.

“Fuck it” Before either of them knew it, you moved forward to kiss Seonghwa and wrapped your hands around his neck, he was shocked and didn’t move for a split second before finally kissing you back and wrapped his hands around your waist.

Mingi groaned from beside the both of you, breaking your kiss to look at him “Come on sweet girl let’s get you somewhere comfortable” He stood up and you stood up off of Seonghwa and in one quick movement Mingi grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing and smacked your ass at your protested kicking at him to put you down.

Both men made their way to your room and Mingi set you in front of him and grabbed your jaw making sure you looked him in the eye before you could start to protest being carried.

“I’ve waited too long to taste your pretty pussy, fantasized for far too long on how sweet you would taste. I’ll be damned if I wait a minute longer” He kissed you hard and let his hands drop to your waist, you could feel Seonghwa behind you move your hair to the side to kiss your neck.

Seonghwa broke his kiss from your neck to focus on stripping you, starting with the flannel you were wearing he let out a guttural groan when he saw you weren’t wearing anything underneath it, he moved down towards your shorts that had risen up your thighs letting the underneath of your butt peek out from them, and it took all his power to not rip them off you.

Mingi broke the kiss to soak in your naked figure standing in front of him. Seonghwa motioned for Mingi to sit against the headboard before picking you up and placing you between his legs, your back against his chest and Mingi grabbed under your thighs and spread your legs exposing your pussy to Seonghwa. You could feel his hard cock through his sweatpants pressing against your back.

Seonghwa groaned at the sight before laying between your legs and pressed wet kisses to your inner thigh, you let out the tiniest moan holding back “Come on sweet girl don’t hold back those moans, let us hear you” Mingi said from behind you, one of his hands moving from your thigh to now pinch your hard nipple causing you to let out a loud moan. Both men almost came in their pants from it, your moans sounding melodic to them.

“Baby, you need a safeword before we start” Seonghwa looked at you before giving another kiss to your thigh, Mingi halted his movements upon hearing Seonghwa and spoke up from behind you “It’s just to be safe doll, we want to make sure this is enjoyable for you as well”

You pondered for a moment before settling on “Penguin” Seonghwa and Mingi chuckled at how cute you were before they decided to continue “Penguin it is”

Seonghwa went back to leaving a trail of kisses getting closer to your pussy, while Mingi resumed giving attention to your nipples. You knew Seonghwa was taking his time, but you were starting to get impatient with him.

“Please do something Seonghwa” You started to beg, he looked up and saw your breathing was ragged. He looked at your pussy and licked a small stripe testing the waters and once he heard the loud moan you let out, he lost whatever little control he had and began to devour you like you were his last meal.

You started squirming around and closed your thighs around his head before he pushed your legs open and pulled away causing you to shudder at the cool air on your now soaking wet pussy “Keep her still” He said and Mingi put his hands back on your thighs keeping them open.

“Fuck baby, you taste so sweet” Seonghwa let out Mingi moved one of his hands towards your needy pussy, slowly pushing in a finger causing you to squirm around and let out a string of moans. Upon hearing your moans, he added another finger and as fast as his fingers were in you he pulled them out and brought them to his mouth. He kept his eyes on yours as he sucked on his fingers tasting you before throwing his head back with a groan “He’s right baby, god you taste so good” 

Before you could comprehend anything more Seonghwa was back to working his tongue on your clit, you were now a panting and moaning mess. You could feel the build up in your stomach getting close to your breaking point, and all it took for you to come undone was him sliding one finger into you.

Right as he slid his finger in and curled it, you were a mess all over him “Fuck! Hwa” You cried out while he kept his rhythm going until you came down from your high and left your pussy with a small kiss that left you shuddering “If I could i would stay between your thighs all day just to hear you come all over my face” 

Seonghwa now hovered over you and moved to kiss you, you heard Mingi groan from behind you both as his patience was definitely wearing thin on having to wait to have a moment with you.

“Move Hwa, I have to taste my doll. She tasted so sweet on my fingers” Mingi spoke up and Seonghwa chuckled at the younger's impatience but moved off you to sit at the end of the bed. 

Mingi moved your head to look up at him from behind you and kissed you softly before pulling away and motioning towards Seonghwa. “Go sit with Hwa for a second, love. I’m gonna go grab you water and let you relax for a moment” Mingi got up and ran to grab water for everyone. You moved towards Seonghwa to lay your back against him like you were with Mingi.

“Thank you Hwa” You followed his eyes to see he was staring at both of your reflections in the mirror in the corner of your room facing the edge of the bed where you both sat.

“You see how pretty you look sweet angel” He grabbed one of your thighs to give you a glimpse of yourself spread open for him. You instinctively tried to close your legs but he had grabbed your other thigh and held your legs open. He held your stare in the mirror with his hair casting a shadow on his eyes making them seem darker. 

You feel your face getting warm and you try to look away before Seonghwa grabs your jaw and moves your head back to look at the mirror “Look at yourself love, I’ve never seen such perfection until now” Your eyes wander over your body before looking at Seonghwa through the mirror.

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty” Mingi’s was leaning against your door frame holding three water bottles in one hand and admiring you. You watch as he moves from the door frame and sets the water down on your nightstand, stripping his shirt off leaving his sweatpants hanging low barely exposing his v-line. 

“Come sit on my face baby” He looked up towards you. Mingi’s sweatpants barely did anything to hide his hard on and you could still feel Seonghwas against your back. Your concern for them now comes to the front of your thoughts.

“Can’t I help you both with your hard ons?” Your voice now quiet and shy but they chuckled and shook their heads “No need to worry about us sweet girl, we could cum at the sight of you” Seonghwa answered then Mingi added “Especially the sight of your fucked out face from our tongues” He groaned before palming his sweatpants.

Seonghwa looked at you “Don’t you think you should go to him? He’s been waiting patiently doll” You looked at Mingi before getting off Seonghwa and climbed onto Mingi, resting on his chest before lifting yourself up and lowering yourself on his face, not fully putting your weight on him but shivering feeling his cool breaths against your pussy.

Mingi grunted at your hesitation “Doll, I'm gonna warn you once. When i say ‘sit on my face’ i mean sit” You hesitated again but lowered yourself more until he grabbed your hips and slammed you down on his face. You gasped and tried to pull yourself up worried about suffocating him but he held you there and started tongue fucking you. 

Your mind becomes fuzzy and every moan or whimper you let out they felt themselves getting close from not even touching themselves. 

Mingi would switch from tongue fucking you to giving attention to your sensitive clit, the rhythm he has was fast and impatient compared to Seonghwas soft but calculated approach.

You heard movement and looked over at Seonghwa who was now naked and lazily stroking his cock, your eyes caught his and smirked a little before picking up his pace then slowing down.

Mingi lifted you up for a moment, pulling your attention back to him “Your pussy is the best dessert i’ve ever had in my life, I don’t want to share with the others” He sat you back down on his face, indulging on you once more.

You could feel yourself get close and Mingi could tell from your quickening breaths and moans falling from your lips. Seonghwa didn’t want to cum until you did, and Mingi knew he was close and would come undone when you did.

Mingi decided enough was enough and started devouring you like you were his last meal, they both devoured you like your pussy was their last meal. You could feel yourself getting close before falling back onto Mingi’s chest but he grabbed you and moved you back onto his face.

“Mingi! Please!” You begged the man under you, the slurping sounds he was making were filthy but his determination to get every drop of you was prominent. Hearing Seonghwa’s pants and soft moans were getting you dangerously close to your second climax until Mingi moaned around your clit and sent you over the edge from the vibration it caused.

Moans bounced off your bedroom walls as Mingi and you came together. Mingi moved you back and forth grinding on his tongue to ride out your high. The room filled with all of you panting as you sat back onto Mingi’s chest.

Once you came down from the fuzziness of your high, Seonghwa lifted you off of Mingi, laid you down next to him, and now stood over you with his cock still in his hand stroking it.

“Fuck angel can I come on you?” Seonghwa asked desperately as he slowly pumped his cock. You nod looking up at him and he came all over your stomach moaning and leaned down to kiss you through his high. Seonghwa pulled away and smiled at you leaving a kiss on your forehead.

Mingi got up to grab a wet towel, handing it to the older to clean you both off before going through your closet to find all the spare clothes all of the boys had left at your place. He grabbed a change of clothes and headed towards the bathroom.

“You did so well love” Seonghwa praised you while grabbing a water bottle, opening it, and handing it to you to drink. “Thank you Hwa” you blushed before taking a sip of water as Mingi emerged from your bathroom in new clothes.

“I started the bath for you, let's get you washed up before the rest all get here” You stood up to walk and they let out a loud laugh noticing your legs shaking with every step you took, you flipped them both off.

“The rest are coming?” You asked, making your way past Mingi towards the tub. “Yeah, they sent a group text that I saw when I went to grab us all water, they should be here pretty soon” Seonghwa got dressed and grabbed you new clothes.

Finishing your bath they dressed you and left kisses all over your body while giving praises in between.

“You look so pretty when you cum” Mingi said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, slipping his hoodie on you.

“I wish I could’ve taken a picture of you covered with my cum” Seonghwa groaned.

They finished dressing you and Mingi picked you up heading back to your living room where everyone else now sat and turned their heads toward the three of you.

“I thought this was something we all would talk to her about before whatever happened between the three of you” Hongjoong spoke up. You hid your face in Mingi’s chest and leaned up towards his ear to ask “Is he mad at us?” 

“He’s probably more upset with Seonghwa and I. He could never be mad at you” Mingi said before setting you down on the couch and the other two sat on the ground in front of you facing everyone else.

“Nobody here is upset with you love, we're upset with these two idiots for having a talk we all should’ve had without the rest of us” Hongjoong voiced hearing your question.

“Well I know now. Let’s talk this out” 

Seonghwa’s earlier suggestion came back into your mind. The suggestion that landed you getting tongue fucked by two of your best friends. Hopefully at the end of this long awaited talk you could let more of your desires come to light.

divider @cafekitsune

pictures pinterest

[chastiefoul]

0:56 a.m. | nanami kento

0.6k words

“kento,” you whispered into the silence of the night and the dimmed lights on your room. It’s been way past midnight and you hadn’t been able to sleep, contrary to your boyfriend who’s lying beside you—his breath steady and calm.

when your voice didn’t budge him out of his slumber you tried once more.

“kento.” this time a little louder.

he then muttered an inaudible word, still closing his eyes. his hand wandered though, tightening his hold around the back of your shoulder; bringing you close to his chest. better, but the gesture was not enough for you who’s not feeling even a little sleepy, as mischief ideas filled your head.

third time’s a charm, they said. so you called him once more.

this time it finally did something as he hummed a reply, his free hand rubbed your side in a calming pattern, his hand went underneath your shirt that’s all rode up. he settled his grip just an inch under your chest, his thumb slowly moved up and down. “that tickles,” you said as you put a hand over his, refraining his little movement. Although, you’re sure he could hear the smile on your voice.

he finally opened his eyes as he gave you a lazy little smile and you swore you didn’t remember seeing anything more gorgeous than that. “why aren’t you asleep, hm?” his voice a tone heavier than usual, a tad husky as it laced deep with sleep. “i can’t sleep,” you whispered, like telling a secret to your best friends in a slumber party. “right. so i don’t get to either, yeah?” he replied, a smile on his face; and it’s only fondness shine across his feature.

“i mean, i understand if the old man needs his sleep even though tomorrow’s weekend. so by all means,” you said playfully, and that earned a deep chuckle from him. “don’t tease, who said we should have an early night today?” he raised an eyebrow, and for such a calm sleeper he now couldn’t stop his wandering hand as he’s diligent on giving you back-scratches—not that you’re complaining. “yes, but that was before my confidence in being able to fall asleep crumbled right before my eyes,” you claimed, feigning a serious tone. “i see, my mistake.” his eyes narrowed affectionately and you had a feeling you could say the dumbest excuse and he’d let you get away with anything.

you felt the need to sit up and do something but before you could even do that he held you down gently. “none of that, you’ll feel even more restless, love.” you couldn’t even protest at that since you knew he’s always right. “then what do you suggest we do now?”

“it’s a we problem now, hm?” he stared at you in amusement, knowing who dragged him into the sleepless night as well was none other than you. “is that a complaint i hear?” you threw him a questioning look. “it’s excitement, of course.” he laughed softly as he stroke your hair ever-so-gently.

“i should just start rambling maybe it’ll get me tired,” you said randomly and he just nodded without offering any question. “sure, i’m listening.” his hand didn’t stop moving. “where should i start?” you asked, relying on his answer. And of course it came easy for the man who seemed like he knew all the right words. “start anywhere, love. you could repeat anything, skipped over some words, or even tell it backwards and i’ll be here to point it out,” he said lovingly.

and you don’t know if it’s just his power you didn’t know about but it’s not even ten minutes after you started talking and as he kept doing the little gesture you could feel the sleepiness coming, welcoming you to one of your best slumber in a while.

--

idk how it took me this long to write this man. i love him so much.

[starkwlkr]

pretty in pink | logan howlett

an: this comes straight from my delusional mind

dad!logan (you can choose if you want this to be an old man logan fic!!)

All week your daughter, Ada, had been reminding everyone about her sixth birthday that was coming up. She made sure you and Logan marked it on every calendar in the house. During dinner, all she talked about was her pink princess themed party.

“And the cake has to be pink!” She said for the hundredth time. She sat in her chair at the table completely forgetting she was supposed to be eating her spaghetti.

“We know, Ada. You told us everyday before and after school.” Logan said.

“I told the girls in my class to come too. They said they wouldn’t come because we’re freaks.” Her excitement about the party died down.

Laura, now a teenager, gave her sister an encouraging smile. “They’re the freaks. You’re the coolest girl in school. That means we get to have all the cake.” That earned a laugh from Ada. Logan chuckled, it warmed his heart to see his daughter’s bond.

“Your party is going to be the best, my love,” You stood up and grabbed your and Logan’s plate that were now empty. “Finish up and then get ready for bed, both of you.” You walked to the kitchen sink and began to wash the dishes.

Laura immediately challenged Ada to see who could finish their spaghetti first. After a scolding from their parents, Laura let Ada win. Soon, the sisters raced upstairs to get ready for bed.

As you and Logan finished cleaning, you couldn’t help but think about your little girl. Your sweet innocent little girl didn’t deserve to be called a freak. Your thoughts were interrupted when a car pulled up to your driveway. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.

“Stay here.” Logan said to you after he wiped his hands on a dish rag. He walked out the door ready to confront whoever it was. The car’s headlights were blinding him, but once he heard the familiar voice call his name, he put away his claws.

Inside you were still wondering who it was. Before you could join Logan outside, Ada had run down the stairs already in her princess pajamas.

“Mommy, who’s outside?” She asked you. Her question was answered when Logan walked in with Rogue by his side. Ada screamed in excitement when she saw her other sister. “You’re here! You’re here!” The little girl ran to Rogue and gave her a welcoming hug.

“I wouldn’t want to miss your princess party.” Rogue picked up the girl.

“Are you going to sleep in my room? Dad got some new books for me!”

“Oh you bet we’re going to stay up all night reading those books! I’ll be up in a few, let me talk to mom and dad for a sec,” Rogue set her down. The adults watched as Ada happily skipped up the stairs to her room. “Alright, what’s wrong?” She looked at you and Logan.

“What? Nothing wrong, why are you asking?” Logan asked surprised by her question.

Rogue knew she wasn’t going to get a straight answer from Logan so she looked at you. You sighed and told your daughter the truth. You were nervous about Ada’s party. A few of her classmates did tell her they were attending, but you were convinced they were only coming to make fun of her and ruin her big day.

“Those little shits ain’t going ruin my girl’s party.” Logan added.

“Honey, those little shits are first graders.” You corrected him.

“Little shits or not, Logan’s right. This is Ada’s party and she’s going to have the best damn princess party in the world.” Rogue declared. Before she left, she gave you and Logan a kiss on the cheek then walked up the stairs to Ada’s room.

Logan noticed that you still had a concerned look on your face. “Hey, Ada is going to be okay.”

“I just don’t want my little girl to get hurt.” You said.

“I won’t let anything or anyone hurt any of my girls.” Logan reminded you.

With that, you and Logan finished cleaning and went up to Laura’s room to say goodnight. As you reached Ada’s room, you saw her and Rogue already asleep. You quietly took the book out of Rogue’s hand and put it back on the bookshelf then adjusted the blanket over your daughters. You gave them both a goodnight kiss and left the room.

In the morning, Ada was the first to wake up. She ran to yours and Logan’s room as fast as she could and jumped on to the bed screaming that it was her birthday. Logan groaned since she had landed on his stomach.

“Wake up! It’s my birthday!” She giggled as Logan sat up and brought her into his arms.

“How old are you today? Eighty? Ninety seven?” He watched as Ada’s smile dropped.

“No, that’s you!”

You were trying so hard to hold in your laugh, but failed. Logan playfully rolled his eyes. It was Ada’s day, he wasn’t going to get mad at her on her special day.

“Okay birthday girl, I believe your sisters promised a special birthday breakfast just for you.” Logan told Ada.

The now six year old gasped as soon as she heard ‘special breakfast’. She immediately jumped off the bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen where Laura and Rogue were making breakfast.

Logan sighed deeply and rolled over to his side, his eyes meeting yours. “Remember . . . Everything is going to be okay today.”

You hummed in response.

Eventually you and Logan joined the girls in the kitchen. Laura and Ada were throwing grapes into each others mouth while Rogue laughed at them failing miserably. Ada had thrown a grape so far from Laura that it hit Logan’s head when he walked in.

“Ada! You hit an elderly man!” Rogue teased.

“Kids.” Logan rolled his eyes yet again.

As a family you all sang happy birthday to Ada as Rogue placed a stack of pancakes topped with whipped cream and Ada’s favorite fruits. The little girl’s smile brought joy to her family.

“Wait, let me get the camera!” You ran to the cabinet that had random items inside. You grabbed the camera and snapped a couple of pictures of your girls and Logan.

It was a beautiful start to a beautiful day.

As the day went on, Rogue and Laura helped decorate the backyard with princess themed decorations. Ada was too busy running around in her pink princess dress to help. Logan was inside blowing up balloons until members of the x-men started showing up.

“Is that the big bad wolverine in a plastic tiara?” Scott Summers chuckled at the sight of Logan wearing a tiara that Ada had given him.

“Watch it, I don’t want you bleeding all over my daughter’s party when I—” Before Logan could finish, Ada joined them with more tiaras in hand. She gave one to every member telling them they couldn’t enter her party if they didn’t wear it.

And that’s how Scott Summers ended up with a plastic pink tiara on his head.

Ada was enjoying her party so far. A couple of classmates did end up attending. You saw as they played on the swing set that Logan had bought for Ada for her last birthday.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Logan said as he stood beside you.

“Hey,” you relaxed more when he was close to you. “Did you see the big box Storm brought for Ada? I bet it’s a big doll house.”

“You’re wrong. It’s definitely a large case of beer for me and you to enjoy when our girls are passed out.”

You chuckled. “After this, no more parties until next year.” You placed a kiss on his lips.

“Whatever you say . . .” He got another kiss in before Ada came running to you with a butterfly knife in hand and the biggest smile on her face.

“Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Wade got me a pretty knife!”

“Uncle Wade?!” “What the fuck!” You and Logan yelled at the same time.

“Hey mommy milf dearest! Peanut! Guess my invite got lost in the mail . . . again. I’m starting to think it’s on purpose. Harsh! Whatever, hey kids! Who wants to learn how to use this baby!” He held up his gun.

“Wade, No!”

[ilydeku]

izuku loves to talk about you during interviews

- anything and every topic it will ALWAYS be about you

- the question won't even be remotely related to you and still izukus answer will revolve around "y/n, my wife!!" <3

- oh, the glint in his eyes, the peaking smile when he speaks about you, lover boyyy

- the media knows he LOVE LOVES you, they think it's funny for this big, confident, mighty hero to be reduced to sap when it comes to you

- it's like his whole personality is HIS WIFE

- the journalists lowkey get so SICK of him for this, they don't want to invite him anymore 😭

- but they kinda have to, due to to his status as #1

"Good evening everyone and welcome Hero Talk! Tonight we'll be staring someone you all know and love, single handedly the greatest hero of all time, Deku! Alright, Deku how are you tonight?"

"Feeling pretty good! This is one of my wife's favorite shows, so I'm even more grateful to be here. And how are you?"

"Oh, same old. Really, just living. Now, we wanted to ask you some fun questions. Let's start with this one. Why did you want to become a hero?"

"Wow, haha! That really brings be back to my youth. When I was kid, my biggest influence was All Might, and he miraculously became my mentor. He was a good hero, and a good man. I wanted to be just like him: fearless, persevering, saving people with I smile. I would beg my mom everyday to watch this video on the computer of him saving a bunch a people. I was really swayed by All Might. I wanted to become a hero to make an impact in the world. I wanted to save people with a smile too."

"That sounds really endearing, Deku. I remember All Might's reign. He wasn't number one on the top charts all those years for nothing. So, did you ever think you'd be standing as Japan's top hero?"

"Well, it was never really my goal to become number one. That was Kacchan's- Dynamight's. My dream was, like I said, to become a hero and save others. But I have to say, it really is a blessing. I'd like to thank my Mom, All Might, my friends, and especially my wife for who I've become. My Mom has really done a lot for me growing up: protecting, encourage, and just always caring for me. All Might has kinda been that father figure for me when my Dad was away. My friends have shown me what it's like to work together and really be part of a heart. And my wife? Haha...I can't thank her enough for all the times she's been right by my side, even before we were together. Nothing I can say or do will ever be enough to express how much she means to me."

"Mm. Quite the supportive group. Your wife sounds like quite the lady!"

"She is. She's wonderful."

"Moving on to the next question, do you use social media often?"

"Occasionally, yes?? My wife uses it regularly, posting about us when we go out and stuff. It's mostly for her family to see how she's doing. She handles most of my official accounts. She says it's to be more appealing to the public, and I guess to show that there's more to heroes on the inside?? I'm not really sure, but I trust her process. Although, I'd rather be appealing to her alone."

"The public will always interested in a hero's private life! Now, Deku, what is your ideal setting of relaxation?"

"My wife doesn't like places that are too crowded or noisy, so maybe a cozy day at the beach?- but early in the morning or in the evening when the crowds calm down. Maybe a movie theatre, but days after the movie is released so it's just us together. Actually, a lazy day at home together is great too! Cooking meals and watching a movie on the couch? Really, any place is relaxing if my wife is with me."

(am i questioning Deku's wife or Deku!?) "How scenic! Those sound very fitting for you!! How about any restaurants?"

"Not really. My wife really knows how to cook, it's amazing! I love her home-cooked meals, so there's no way I'd go out of my way to a restaurant. But if my wife is feeling it, I'll be sure to make reservations."

"(sigh)"

"(smiling warmly)"

[chanelrolls]

Love and Deepspace Men pretending to be gay to get closer to you.

pairings. sylus x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, xavier x reader, caleb x reader

notes. this is a headcanon of how the LIs would pretend to be gay so that you would feel safe and comfortable around their presence. requests are open. i'll welcome them wholeheartedly.

SYLUS

Sylus doesn’t just pretend to be gay—he turns it into a performance. He commits so flawlessly that no one even questions him. He doesn’t stutter, hesitate, or act out of character. If anything, his arrogance makes people believe him even more.

He carefully crafts his lies to be believable. He drops subtle hints in conversation, never making it obvious, just enough that people draw their own conclusions.

If you ever ask why he never seems interested in women, he just smirks, “Sweetheart, I like my partners just as ruthless as I am. Do you think you could handle that?”

He treats it like a game. He enjoys seeing how long he can keep the charade up before you're able to catch on. He especially loves watching your reactions when you start to get too comfortable with the idea.

He starts making offhanded comments about men, but he never actually compliments them. “At least he knows how to wear a suit properly. I respect that.” It’s just vague enough to keep the illusion.

Despite his act, he still flirts with you constantly—just in ways that sound platonically playful. “If only I was into women, hmm? What a tragedy.”

If you ever try to set him up with another guy, he dodges it smoothly. “Ah, but I have high standards, darling. He wouldn’t last five minutes with me.”

The second another man actually starts showing interest in you, his entire demeanor shifts. He gets subtly possessive, but masks it with amusement. “Him? Really? You could do better."

He lets you get too comfortable before dropping the act. Maybe one day, when you casually lean against him, laughing about how he’s the “perfect gay best friend.” He hums in amusement before leaning in close, voice dropping to a murmur. “Best friend? Hilarious.”

SCENARIO

You and Sylus are sitting at a high-end café, sipping on overpriced espresso. You suddenly begin teasing him about his supposed preferences, and he plays along effortlessly. You ask, “So, if you had to choose a man to date, who would it be?”

Sylus swirls his drink, amused. “Ah, a difficult question. I do appreciate a man with taste. A well-fitted suit. Confidence. Maybe someone who plays chess.”

You grin, “So, a rich, cunning type? That explains a lot.”

He smirks. “If I weren’t already spoken for, perhaps I’d entertain the thought.”

You shoot out a chortle, mirroring his action of twirling his drink. “See? Really, we always have the same likes and tastes, you're the perfect gay best friend."

He imperceptibly huffs, setting his cup down. Then, leaning closer, his voice drops to something softer, almost dangerous. “Who said I was your friend?”

You blink. “Wait, what?”

Sylus only smirks, sipping his coffee like he didn’t just drop a bombshell.

ZAYNE

Zayne’s approach is subtle but convincing. He never outright says he’s gay—he just lets people assume.

If someone asks him about his ideal type, he responds in the most vague, deadpan way possible. "Men."

He doesn’t act any differently than usual. That’s what makes it believable. His usual professionalism, reserved nature, and lack of visible romantic interest in others make it easy for rumors to spread.

When you jokingly asked him about it one day, he doesn’t deny it. Instead, he just tilts his head slightly and says, “Does it matter?”

He finds mild amusement in you being too comfortable around him, thinking he’s completely safe. (he's not.)

He doesn’t really do the whole “pretend to check out men” thing—he thinks it’s unnecessary. Instead, he subtly steers conversations in ways that reinforce the misunderstanding.

If you ever try to ask him about what he seeks in a man, he dodges the question with vague, clinical responses. “Compatibility is determined by more than just surface-level attraction.”

Eventually, you get too comfortable that you starts using him as a fake boyfriend to ward off creeps. He plays along, but secretly enjoys claiming you as his even if it was meant to be a ploy.

When you finally gets suspicious, he doesn’t admit it immediately. Instead, he just looks at you, waiting for you to piece it together.

Once you do realize the truth, he simply nods and says, “So you’ve figured it out.” No apology, no embarrassment—just quiet amusement at how long it took you.

SCENARIO

You're casually sitting with Zayne at a park bench, scrolling through dating profiles. You then sigh dramatically. “You’re so lucky, you know? No dating stress. No dealing with annoying guys. Just living your best life.”

Zayne glances at you. “Is that so?”

“Yeah! I mean, you don’t have to deal with this whole ‘finding the perfect guy’ nonsense. You already know what you want, right?”

Zayne hums in thought before responding simply, “I do.”

You let out a groan. “Ugh, I wish I had it that easy.”

A pause. Zayne looks at you with something unreadable in his expression. Then, after a beat, he says, “Perhaps you do.”

You frown. “…What does that mean?”

He doesn’t answer. Just smirks ever so slightly before returning to his book.

RAFAYEL

Rafayel fully leans into the performance with zero shame. He has fun with it, exaggerating everything for his own entertainment.

The moment he realizes that acting gay makes you way more comfortable around him, he makes it his new favorite game.

He starts fake-fawning over men, but in a way that’s so extra it almost sounds satirical. “MC, tell me, have you ever seen a man with cheekbones that sharp?! What a gift from the heavens. I may cry.”

He deliberately gets touchy with you, knowing you won’t suspect anything. Resting his chin on your shoulder, hugging you from behind, playing with your hands—it’s all fair game now.

If anyone asks about his type, he sighs dramatically and says something ridiculous like, “My heart belongs to the sea and to men with tragic backstories.”

The second another guy flirts with you, his energy shifts. He crosses his arms, watching with dead eyes. Then, suddenly, he’s clinging onto you like a lifeline. “Oh, darling, rescue me! This is so overwhelming.” (Really, he just wants the guy to leave.)

Whenever you ask him about his “exes,” he completely makes things up. “Ah, yes. Leonardo. He was a poet, you know. Tragic love. Very dramatic.” (He does this purely to mess with you)

He treats it all like a joke until one day, you offhandedly say something like, “You’re my safest friend.” And suddenly, it isn’t as funny anymore.

But he’s awful at keeping up the act. One slip-up and he’s doomed. When you casually rest your hand on his chest one day, his entire body tenses. Or maybe when you flirt back and then he suddenly forgets how to breathe.

Eventually, he just stops pretending. But by the time you realize it, he’s already pinning you against the couch, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oops. Looks like I got a little too close, huh?”

SCENARIO

You and Rafayel are sitting on a pier, legs dangling over the edge. The sun is setting, and the waves crash gently below. You initiate the comversation, “I wish I had a romance as dramatic as yours.”

Rafayel sighs, placing a hand over his heart. “Ah, love. So fleeting. So cruel.”

“You sound like you belong in a soap opera.”

He just smirks, bumping his shoulder against yours. “And yet, you adore me anyway.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I do. You’re the best fake boyfriend I could ask for.”

Rafayel’s smirk falters for just a second. Then, slowly, he leans in. His voice drops to a murmur.

“Fake?”

XAVIER

Xavier’s attempt at pretending to be gay is an absolute trainwreck. He isn’t a liar by nature, so when he does try, it’s painfully obvious. If asked about his type, he panics and blurts out, “Men. I love men.” Dead silence follows.

His reason for pretending to be gay is simple: you said you felt the safest around him, so in a moment of impulse, he blurts out, “That’s because I’m gay.”

Instant regret. His face stays neutral, but internally? Panic. He realizes too late this means he can be close to you without you suspecting a thing.

The problem? He’s naturally affectionate. Xavier isn’t touchy, but he doesn’t move away when you lean on him, holds his hand absentmindedly, or play with his fingers.

You treat him like a safe space, and it drives him insane, telling him, “I love how comfortable I feel around you.” Xavier, staring at your intertwined hands, says: “…Me too.”

His ‘gay act’ is ridiculously bad, but you bought it at first. Until the way he looks at you starts feeling off.

He gets a little too soft around you. You often catch him staring at your lips too long. His voice is too gentle when he says your name, and he remembers everything about your preferences.

The real problem starts when you experimented with his boundaries one day. “Xavier, can I cuddle with you? You’re like my emotional support pillow.”

He freezes. He should say no. He really should. Instead, he clears his throat and mutters, “…If you want.”

SCENARIO

It’s late at night, and both of you are lying on the couch, wrapped in a shared blanket. Your head rests on Xavier’s shoulder, breathing softlt against his skin. He smells too good. You utter, “I’m so glad you’re in my life.”

Xavier stares at the ceiling. He can feel the weight of you against him, the warmth of your body. It’s unbearable.

You add, “I feel the safest around you.”

His throat tightens. He shouldn’t be hearing this. Not when you think he’s—

You shift, pressing closer. “…I wish you weren’t gay.”

His heart stops. For a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

Xavier swallows hard, forcing himself to stay still. He lifts a hand, hesitating, before gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

His voice is barely above a whisper, “…Me too.”

CALEB

Caleb doesn’t just pretend—he weaponizes the misunderstanding. He’s been in your life since forever, so if people assume you're just besties and he happens to be gay, he doesn’t correct them. In fact, he leans into it.

He���ll act as the perfect wingman, making sure every guy you dated somehow ends up hating their time with you. He sabotages without looking like he’s doing it. “Oh, you like him? Huh. I heard he cheated on his last girlfriend. But if you’re sure…” (He made that up.)

Though Caleb absolutely hates doing this, but if it’s the only way to get you close to him, he’ll do it.

He’s good at it. Too good. Because he’s always been selective about women, no one questions it when he claims to have no interest.

It’s a slow burn. He makes himself your most reliable friend, your protector, the one person you never had to worry about.

Whenever you vent about guys, he’s always there to listen, nodding with quiet understanding. But internally, he wants to put the heads of the guys you dated on a stick.

He treats you so gently, and it frustrates him that you don't even see through it.

One day, a guy gets too close to you, and Caleb steps in, voice cold. “I’d back off if I were you.”

You finally realized the truth when he stops playing along and just stares at you with an expectant gaze.

When you finally confront him, he only gives you a knowing look. “You really think I’d let just anyone this close to me?”

SCENARIO

You're venting to Caleb about another failed date. “Why can’t guys be like you?”

Caleb tenses. But he forces a smile. “Yeah. Why can’t they?”

Absentmindedly, your mouth somewhat continued to run faster than your brain. “I wish I could just date you. If only you weren’t—”

A pause.

Caleb tilts his head. “…If I weren’t what?”

You realize the weight of what you said, laughing awkwardly. “You know. If you weren’t—”

His eyes darken. “Say it.”

And that’s when you knew.

[satellite-evans]

Verano Argentino

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x reader

Summary: Franco taking his girlfriend to Argentina for the first time :)

Word count: 6k

Warnings: nothing but fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The hum of the airplane engine softened as the wheels touched down in Buenos Aires. You glanced out the window, seeing the city stretch out under a pastel sunset. The sight was breathtaking, a blend of orange, pink, and lavender that painted the skyline. But the butterflies fluttering in your stomach made it hard to fully focus. This wasn’t just a vacation—it was a first in many ways. You were in Franco’s world now, stepping into a piece of his life that he’d always spoken of with such pride and warmth. The thought was equal parts exciting and nerve-wracking. Would his family like you? Would you fit into this place that clearly held so much of his heart?

As the plane taxied to the gate, Franco turned to you with a grin that lit up his face, his dark eyes shining with excitement. He gently squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in soothing circles. The small gesture grounded you.

“How does it feel to finally be in Argentina?” he asked, his voice soft but tinged with a palpable eagerness.

“It feels surreal,” you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips. “I can’t believe I’m actually here. I haven't seen anything yet, but I know it will be magical.”

Franco’s smile widened. “It gets even better, trust me, mi amor. Get ready because the adventure is just getting started.”

The plane came to a halt, and as the seatbelt sign dinged off, the cabin filled with the sound of passengers stretching, opening overhead compartments, and chatting. Franco leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, playful murmur. “And remember, if you get overwhelmed by my family, just give me a look. I’ll swoop in and save you.”

You laughed softly. “Thanks for the backup.”

As you disembarked, Franco took charge of the luggage, grabbing both your suitcase and his with ease. “I’ve got this,” he said, waving off your protests. “You just enjoy the moment.”

You stepped into the arrivals area, where a small crowd bustled around, families reuniting with hugs and cheerful voices. Standing near the back, a man and a woman held a handmade sign that read, “Bienvenida,!” with both your and Franco's name written on it. Franco’s parents, Aníbal and Andrea, waved enthusiastically when they saw you. Beside them was a younger girl, practically bouncing on her heels excitedly. Martina, Franco’s sister.

“There they are,” Franco said, his voice warm as he guided you toward them. “Ready?”

You nodded, your pulse quickening.

Andrea was the first to reach you, her arms opening wide as she enveloped you in a hug. It was warm and comforting, and she smelled faintly of lavender. She began speaking quickly in Spanish, her words spilling out in a flurry of excitement.

Franco leaned in, his cheek brushing against yours as he whispered a translation. “She says she’s so happy to finally meet you and that I’ve been talking about you non-stop.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you offered a shy, “Muchas gracias,” which earned you an approving nod and a wide smile from Andrea. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she held your hands for a moment longer, as if to absorb the reality of your presence.

Aníbal’s handshake was firm but friendly, his grip warm and steady. He spoke in accented English, his voice rich and deep. “Welcome to Argentina. It is a pleasure to have you here.”

“Thank you so much for having me,” you replied, grateful for his calm and reassuring demeanor.

Martina, however, couldn’t contain her energy. She darted forward and threw her arms around you in a quick but enthusiastic hug. “I’m Martina,” she said in clear English, her bright eyes darting between you and Franco. “So, this is your girlfriend,” she added with a mischievous grin, her tone teasing as she turned to her brother. “You’ve got good taste, hermano.”

Franco laughed, puffing out his chest in an exaggerated gesture of pride. “Of course I do. Did you expect anything less?”

Martina rolled her eyes but was clearly amused. “We’ll see if she survives dinner with the family,” she quipped, winking at you.

Franco groaned dramatically. “Don’t scare her off already!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at their banter. Despite your initial nerves, the warmth and energy of Franco’s family were already making you feel at ease. You exchanged a look with him, and he gave you a reassuring smile, as if to say, “See? I told you they’d love you.”

The ride to the Colapinto home was filled with laughter and chatter, the kind of easy, effortless conversation that only a close-knit family can share. Franco’s family, warm and welcoming, switched seamlessly between Spanish and English, ensuring you felt included in every exchange. His father, a jovial man with a booming voice, would joke in Spanish, while his mother, Andrea, would smile at you knowingly, making sure you understood the sentiment even if you didn't catch every word. Franco sat beside you in the backseat, his arm draped casually over your shoulder, the comfort of his touch a quiet reassurance.

Every so often, Franco would lean in, his lips close to your ear as he translated a joke or explained a comment made in Spanish, his breath warm against your skin. His voice, soft and intimate, made you feel as though you were the only one in the world.

“I love you so much,” he murmured, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your shoulder, the gentle pressure of his touch sending a warmth that spread through you. His thumb brushed your skin in a slow rhythm, sending little shivers down your spine as the car cruised down the sun-dappled streets.

You leaned into Franco, feeling his presence, his steady, comfortable energy. "It feels nice," you said softly, almost to yourself.

He gave a small, affectionate smile, squeezing your shoulder gently. “I knew you’d fit right in,” he said, his tone filled with quiet pride, and you couldn’t help but feel a deeper affection for him in that moment.

When the car pulled into the driveway, you were immediately struck by the home’s charm. It sat nestled in a quiet neighborhood, with the glow of the setting sun casting a light on the terracotta roof. Colorful tiles lined the pathway leading to the front door, and vibrant bougainvillea vines clung to the walls, their brilliant pink blossoms adding to the home’s already welcoming feel. You could already sense the warmth and love that filled this space, just from the beauty that surrounded it.

Andrea led the way, her steps light and purposeful as she ushered you inside. She spoke animatedly in Spanish, forgetting you couldn’t speak even tough Franco told her. And Franco, walking beside you, translated with ease, his voice calm and steady. He made sure to include you in every detail explaining that his mother would only speak in Spanish if she was too excited, as his mother proudly pointed out the little quirks of the house.

“This is where Martina and I used to play football,” he said, gesturing to the backyard where a weathered soccer ball lay forgotten on the grass. “We would run around for hours, trying to beat each other. We even had a goalpost set up here.”

The smile on Franco’s face grew softer, nostalgic, as he remembered those childhood days. His eyes met yours, and there was a tenderness in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat.

“And this is my mom’s pride and joy,” he continued, leading you toward the garden, “her garden.”

Andrea beamed with pride as you admired the rows of flowers and herbs. Her hands fluttered in the air, explaining the significance of each plant, from the rosemary that was said to bring good fortune to the lavender she used to make soaps. She spoke with a gentle warmth, the joy in her voice obvious as she shared stories of her garden’s growth.

Franco, leaning closer to you, chuckled quietly, his breath brushing against your cheek. “She’s telling you about the time I accidentally trampled her mint plants when I was a kid,” he whispered, his voice playful. “She still brings it up every chance she gets. ‘Franco, you ruined my mint,’ she says.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, glancing over at Andrea, who nodded emphatically, her expression a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. "You never learn," she added, her eyes twinkling with affection. You could feel the family bonds here, the playful teasing, and the genuine love.

“Oh, really?” you teased back, glancing at Andrea as you wiped a mock tear from your eye. “Such a tragic mint disaster.”

Franco laughed, his arm still comfortably around your shoulder, pulling you slightly closer. “It was a disaster,” he said with a wink, “but she’s forgiven me.”

The tour continued inside, where Franco led you to his childhood room. You took in the modest space, the way it still held pieces of his past—racing car posters on the walls, trophies and medals carefully displayed on a shelf. The room had been a place where dreams had been born and nurtured, and you couldn’t help but smile as you ran your fingers over the polished metal of the trophies.

“Wow,” you said, genuinely impressed. “You were quite the athlete.”

Franco’s grin widened, and he stepped closer to you, the playful energy between you palpable. “Still am,” he replied, his voice dripping with confidence. He leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your neck as he whispered, “But these days, my best moves are off the track.”

Before you could respond, his lips found yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It was tender, filled with a quiet affection that made your heart race. When he pulled away, his eyes danced with that mischievous glint, and your cheeks warmed.

“What?” he asked innocently, his hands resting gently on your waist. “You’re cute when you blush.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re impossible,” you said, but the affection in your voice was undeniable.

Franco laughed, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours, and for a moment, it was just the two of you—connected in this quiet, simple moment of joy. You could feel the depth of the bond you were beginning to share with him, the easy, unspoken affection that had already taken root in your heart.

"Come on, let me show you the rest of the house."

That evening, Franco’s family gathered around the dinner table, and the warmth of the atmosphere felt like a physical embrace. The house was alive with energy, voices mingling in a beautiful harmony, the air thick with the savory scents of grilled meats, fresh salads, and the unmistakable smell of empanadas. The table was an impressive spread, a feast that seemed to invite everyone to stay and share stories, laughter, and love.

Aníbal worked the grill with an ease that spoke of years of experience. His hands moved with confident precision, flipping steaks and sausages, while his deep laugh boomed across the backyard. Andrea and Martina flitted around the kitchen, preparing side dishes and making sure everything was perfect. You asked if you could help with anything, but they declined you immediately and said that they had everything under control. Their voices were like a symphony, creating a sense of inclusivity and warmth.

Franco, ever the attentive host, stayed close by your side and talked your ears off about F1 while he played with a strand of your hair. He would lean in every so often, his breath warm against your skin, and whisper a funny remark or a translation, filling in the gaps and ensuring you never felt left out. His hand would occasionally brush yours under the table, a subtle but constant reminder of his presence, and each small touch made your heart flutter.

Andrea turned her gaze toward you, her eyes soft and filled with curiosity. In the midst of the laughter and clinking glasses, she asked, “So, how did you guys meet? I keep asking Franco but he doesn't budge.” Her tone was kind, but there was a spark of genuine interest in her voice.

You felt your cheeks warm at the question, and before you could find your words, Franco leaned in, flashing you a playful grin and finally giving in. “I chased her down after a race,” he teased, his voice dripping with mock bravado. “I saw her standing with a bunch of her friends, but she was the only one that stood out, for me at least. Her hair, her smile. Her eyes were 100 percent more shiny than the moon that night. So I couldn't help myself and went after her. And she couldn’t resist my charm, of course.”

The family burst into laughter, but Martina raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with a mischievous smirk. “Oh really?” she said, her tone laced with humor. “Or was it the other way around?”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with them, the tension in your chest dissipating as you realized how at ease you were with Franco’s family. With a lighthearted shrug, you started recounting the real story of how you met. The way you’d first encountered each other at that event, the way Franco had been more focused on winning than on noticing anyone else, until he had finally caught your eye. His family listened intently, nodding and smiling as you shared your version of the story, and soon the conversation began to flow naturally, with everyone chiming in and taking turns asking questions.

Andrea asked you about your life back home, her eyes warm as she listened to you explain your culture and what you loved to do back home. By the time dessert came around, a homemade flan served with dollops of rich dulce de leche, you felt like you had known these people for years. You laughed at their stories, shared in their fondness for each other, and couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the warmth and genuine affection they exuded. They made you feel like one of their own, not just a guest in their home, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely at ease, as if you truly belonged.

Later, after the table had been cleared and the evening’s conversations turned to soft murmurs, you and Franco headed up to his room. As you both prepared for bed, Franco pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms encircling you with a tenderness that was comforting and intimate. His chin rested on the top of your head as he whispered, “They really like you.”

You leaned into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. “You think so?” you asked, a little uncertain.

“I know so,” he replied with a quiet certainty, kissing the top of your head. “When you went to the bathroom, they told me. Martina thinks you’re ‘ too cool for me,’ by the way.”

You giggled at the thought of his little sister’s approval, feeling your nerves melt away. His words were like a balm to your heart, reassuring you that you were more than just an outsider in their world. As you climbed into bed together, you whispered about the day, recounting moments of laughter and things you wanted to see in Argentina. But before you could fully drift off to sleep, Franco rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze at you.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “I don’t think I’ve told you just how beautiful you looked today.”

You turned your head to face him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You might’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you said, narrowing your eyes playfully. “But I’m not complaining.”

Franco smirked, leaning down to press a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. His hand moved along your waist, pulling you closer as his lips deepened the kiss. His touch was gentle yet insistent, the way his fingers traced the curve of your spine sending shivers through you. The moment felt electric, the quiet of the room amplifying the intensity of his kiss, the way his lips moved against yours with increasing intent.

When his hand slipped to the small of your back, you pulled back slightly, your cheeks flushed. “Franco,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “We can’t. They can hear.”

He grinned, his dark eyes twinkling mischievously in the dim light. “So?” he teased, his lips grazing your ear. “Mama and Papa are heavy sleepers and my sister is probably busy watching tiktoks. They won't hear your moans.”

You gasped, a little flustered, “Franco!”

His laughter filled the space between you as he leaned in again. “Shh,” he said, kissing your lips lightly before nipping at your ear. “You’re going to wake them up if you keep talking.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could get a word out, he silenced you with another kiss. His hand cupped your cheek with a gentleness that contrasted his teasing nature, and in that moment, his confidence was like a force, making you forget the world outside the room. His lips moved to your neck, and you could feel his smile against your skin.

And then, as if the universe decided to make things even more dramatic, the door creaked open.

“Franco! I—oh my God!” Martina’s voice cut through the intimate moment like a thunderclap.

You froze, your face instantly heating up, and you scrambled to pull the covers up to your chin. Franco, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch. Instead, he flopped back onto the bed, covering his face with his hands as he burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“I just needed my jacket!” Martina squeaked, her voice high-pitched with embarrassment. She quickly grabbed the jacket from the chair by the door, her face a shade of red that almost matched the blush on yours. Without another word, she fled, slamming the door behind her.

You groaned, burying your face in the pillow. “I can’t believe that just happened,” you mumbled, half laughing, half mortified.

Franco turned his head toward you, still chuckling softly. “Why not? It’s not the first time,” he said, his grin teasing but full of affection.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension from the awkward interruption easing as the two of you shared this moment.

"Seriously, Franco, that was so embarrassing."

He grinned, brushing a strand of hair away from your face with a tenderness that contrasted with his earlier teasing. "It’s only embarrassing if you let it be. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’ll be too mortified to bring it up again anytime soon."

You glanced toward the door, half-expecting Martina to burst in again with more awkwardness. But there was nothing—just the lingering tension from the interruption and the weight of his words. “I guess you’re right,” you admitted, your fingers tracing absentminded patterns on the blankets. The only thing you wanted to do was sleep and forget that it ever happened.

The following morning, the sun poured in through the window, casting a warm light over the room. You woke up feeling disoriented for a moment, the unfamiliar sounds of birds outside and the gentle rustling of trees in the breeze signaling that you were no longer at home. Beside you, Franco stirred, his arm draped over your waist. His chest rose and fell with steady, rhythmic breaths, his presence comforting in the quiet of the early morning.

You smiled softly to yourself, memories of the previous evening flooding back—the laughter, the teasing, the way you felt so welcomed by his family. Despite the brief and awkward interruption by Martina, last night had been a success. You felt like you were becoming a part of something bigger than just a visit to a new country. You were beginning to feel like family.

You shifted slightly, careful not to wake Franco, and quietly slid out of bed. The coolness of the wooden floor greeted your bare feet as you stood up, and you stretched your arms above your head, yawning. You felt at peace, as though you could enjoy this moment forever—just you and Franco in this foreign city, with nothing but time and possibility ahead.

The aroma of fresh coffee reached you before you even stepped into the hallway. As you walked downstairs, you saw Andrea already bustling in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared breakfast. She looked up when she saw you enter and greeted you with a bright smile.

"Good morning, querida," she said warmly, her hands moving gracefully as she flipped a few pancakes on the griddle. “I hope you slept well.”

“I did, thank you,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread in your chest at her kindness. You stepped further into the kitchen, drawn to the comforting scents of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling eggs. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Pancakes, scrambled eggs, and churros,” Andrea said, her voice carrying a hint of pride. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I think I could eat everything you’ve made,” you said with a smile, your stomach already rumbling in anticipation.

Andrea chuckled. “Good. I’ll make sure there’s enough for everyone.” She poured a cup of coffee for you and handed it over. “I thought you might enjoy this before Franco wakes up.”

You took the coffee gratefully, savoring the rich aroma as you took your first sip. It was strong, just the way you liked it. For a moment, you stood there, simply soaking in the feeling of being surrounded by Franco’s family—this sense of belonging that was starting to settle in your chest.

Before you could settle into your thoughts, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Franco appeared in the doorway, his dark hair slightly messy from sleep. He looked half-awake but still incredibly handsome, his eyes sparkling with a lazy warmth. He stretched his arms above his head, letting out a small yawn.

“Morning,” he mumbled, a sleepy smile forming on his lips as he saw you standing by the counter.

“Good morning,” you replied, taking another sip of coffee. “Your mom’s made an incredible breakfast.”

Franco’s eyes immediately turned to the food, and his stomach gave an audible growl. “I didn’t know churros were on the menu,” he said, walking over to the griddle. “Mama, you’re spoiling me.”

“Don’t complain,” Andrea teased as she flipped another batch of pancakes. “You’ve been away for so long, you deserve a good breakfast.”

Franco grinned and turned to you. “I might just stay here forever if it means I get breakfast like this every day.”

You laughed, but there was a part of you that agreed with him. There was something so comforting about being here, surrounded by the warmth of family and the simple pleasures of a meal shared together.

The rest of the morning passed in a haze of laughter, delicious food, and easy conversation. After breakfast, Franco’s family insisted on showing you around Buenos Aires. It was a beautiful, sprawling city, full of color and life. You wandered through the cobbled streets, the city’s architecture blending colonial influences with modern design. You felt like you were walking through an art gallery with every step.

Franco was in his element, eager to share his love for his hometown with you. As you walked hand-in-hand, he pointed out landmarks he cherished, the small café where he and his friends used to hang out, the bookshop where he’d spent hours on lazy afternoons, and the street art that lined the walls of the city. You soaked it all in, fascinated by the rhythm of the city and how easily Franco moved through it, as though it were part of his very being.

“Do you like it here?” Franco asked, his voice casual as he leaned in a little closer to you.

“I love it,” you said with genuine enthusiasm. “It’s so vibrant. There’s so much life here.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Franco said with a smile, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. “I’m proud of my city, and I wanted to show you why.”

By the time the sun began to dip low in the sky, you had already explored so many new places that you felt like you could call Buenos Aires home.

That evening, you and Franco sat on the balcony of his house, overlooking the garden below. The evening breeze was cool against your skin, and the sky had shifted to a deep, star-filled navy. The two of you were wrapped in a blanket, with soft laughter and comfortable silence filling the space between you.

“What’s your favorite thing about this city?” you asked, your voice low as you nestled further into the warmth of Franco’s side.

Franco didn’t answer immediately, instead taking a moment to look out at the city below. The lights twinkled like a sea of fireflies, and the hum of the city life seemed so distant now, replaced by the peaceful quiet of the moment.

“I think it’s the energy,” he finally said, his voice thoughtful. “There’s a kind of pulse here, like the city is alive. It’s a place where anything can happen, where people chase their dreams and live for the moment.”

“I can feel that,” you said softly, your heart full as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

Franco’s hand found yours, his fingers curling around yours with an easy familiarity. You squeezed his hand in return, not knowing what the future held but knowing that, in this moment, everything felt perfect.

But just as the night seemed to settle into a peaceful lull, the sound of footsteps interrupted the moment. It was Martina again, her head poking out from behind the sliding glass door, a playful grin on her face.

“You two look cozy,” she teased, crossing her arms over her chest. “I hope you’re not making out on the balcony again.”

Franco groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Martina, go away,” he muttered, but you could tell he wasn’t really bothered.

“I’ll leave when I’m ready,” Martina shot back, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You two should try to get out of the house tomorrow. Buenos Aires has more to offer than just each other.”

You both chuckled, the awkwardness of the situation evaporating instantly. Franco, as if to save you both from further teasing, stood up and stretched. “We’ll go on an adventure tomorrow,” he promised. “But tonight, it’s just us.”

Martina raised her hands in mock surrender. “Fine. Have your moment, lovebirds,” she said with a wink before disappearing back inside.

You and Franco exchanged an amused glance before turning your attention back to the sky, the sound of the city below blending with the quiet rhythm of your shared breathing. The night was still, and for the first time in a long time, you felt at peace.

The next morning, you woke up feeling lighthearted and content. The warmth of Franco’s family had melted any lingering nerves, and today felt like the perfect opportunity for a little relaxation, just the two of you.

You had no idea what Franco had planned, but as he ushered you into the car that morning with an excited grin, you knew it was going to be something special. The drive was filled with playful chatter, the kind that had become second nature between the two of you. Franco kept glancing at you from time to time, giving you teasing smirks as he described the beach he was taking you to.

"I hope you like it. It's one of my favorite places to clear my head," he said, his voice warm with that familiar, easygoing confidence.

You raised an eyebrow. "Clear your head? I didn't take you for the beach type."

Franco shot you a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the playful challenge. “Oh, trust me. I’m more than just a race car driver with a need for speed. Sometimes, I like to slow down, enjoy the simple things.”

You smirked, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “So, you’re saying you're a beach philosopher now?”

He gave a dramatic sigh. “I’m just trying to bring a little culture to your life, cariño,” he teased, calling you by the affectionate nickname he had already grown fond of using.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

Soon enough, the city gave way to open roads, and before long, the landscape shifted to a view of the ocean—an endless stretch of golden sand meeting the calm waves. As you both pulled into the parking lot, the salty breeze hit you, and you couldn't help but breathe in deeply, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace settle over you.

Franco was already out of the car, grabbing towels and a beach bag, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Come on, let’s go! You’re going to love this place,” he said, already pulling you toward the shore with that infectious enthusiasm of his.

You followed him to the water’s edge, feeling the warm sand beneath your feet as the sound of the waves intensified. It was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

Franco turned to you, a wicked grin forming on his face. “Bet you can’t beat me to the water.”

You looked at him skeptically, already plotting your move. “You know I don’t have the competitive edge like you, but I’m not letting you get away with that.”

Before he could react, you dashed ahead, running toward the waves, feeling the rush of the cool sea spray against your legs. Franco laughed behind you, quick on your heels. You both reached the water at the same time, with him managing to grab your wrist just before you got fully submerged.

"Cheater," you muttered playfully, but Franco only flashed a grin.

“Gotta keep you on your toes, cariño,” he teased, his hand never leaving your waist as you stood in the shallows, the waves rolling gently around your ankles. “You’re too cute when you get competitive.”

You shot him a mock glare, crossing your arms. “I’m competitive when I want to be.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “I’ve noticed.”

The warmth of the sun on your skin and the coolness of the water felt like the perfect combination, and soon the playful banter faded into a comfortable silence as you both soaked in the beauty of the moment. Franco’s fingers gently tugged at a lock of your hair, his voice soft.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You laughed lightly, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh, please. You’re not getting all mushy on me now, are you?”

He grinned, pulling you closer, his gaze full of affection. “You’re not letting me get away with anything today, huh?”

“Well, you did challenge me to a race to the water,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I have to keep you in check.”

Franco laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Fair enough.” He paused for a moment, gazing at you with a tender expression. “But seriously, you’ve made everything better since you got here. I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you smiled softly. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

The two of you spent the afternoon in the water and on the beach, laughing, talking, and enjoying each other’s company. Franco showed off his stone-skipping skills—though he did “accidentally” pretend to miss one just so you could give it a try.

“Not bad, huh?” Franco said with a wink after you got a few decent skips across the water. “I’ve got some moves.”

“You just wait, I’ll be skipping stones like a pro soon enough,” you said confidently, and Franco grinned.

You continued to trade playful jabs and laughs with each other. It felt like time had slowed down, and you didn’t want it to end. Franco was as playful as he was affectionate, constantly pulling you into small hugs, kissing the top of your head, or whispering jokes in your ear. Every little moment was filled with genuine warmth, making you feel more and more at home.

The heat of the Argentinian sun was burning your skin the same like you arrived hours ago, so Franco suggested another swim. You didn’t hesitate. Without a word, he took your hand and led you back into the ocean, both of you letting the waves carry you along.

The two of you floated in the water, the rhythm of the waves calming, and you both began to laugh over the little things, the world outside the water feeling like a distant memory. Franco’s fingers gently brushed against yours, the touch sending warmth through you even as the cool sea embraced you.

As you swam a little further out, you could see Franco's playful glint return. “Race again?” he teased.

“Not a chance,” you said with a grin, then swam toward him, only for him to pull you into the gentlest of holds, twirling you as you both spun in the sea.

“Maybe not now, but you’ll regret it later,” Franco whispered with a wink.

You laughed, feeling completely at ease as the sea surrounded you both.

Later, as you returned to the beach to rest in the shade, you dug into the bag beside you, pulling out sunscreen. “Time to help out the little boy,” you joked, grinning as you held the bottle in front of Franco.

He raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. “You really want to help me out, huh?”

“What can I say, I’m a giver,” you said with a wink, before squirting sunscreen into your hands.

As you rubbed it onto his back, you couldn’t help but notice how natural this felt. His skin was warm under your touch, and his eyes closed as he relaxed into your hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever been pampered quite like this,” he muttered with a lazy smile.

“Good thing I’m here to change that,” you teased, smoothing the lotion down his arms, making sure every inch was covered.

“You know,” Franco said with a grin, “You should consider adding ‘sunscreen expert’ to your resume.”

You rolled your eyes, still laughing as you finished. “You’re lucky you’re cute, or I might not have done it.”

Franco leaned over, his lips brushing your cheek in a soft kiss. “Gracias cariño, I love it when you take care of me.”

Eventually, the two of you relaxed further into the beach towels. Franco sprawled out beside you while you read, the sun warming your skin as the breeze whispered through the palm trees. When your eyelids began to droop, Franco was quick to notice, and without a word, he shifted beside you, propping himself up on his side. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” he said softly. “Want to take a nap?”

You smiled, feeling so content you could easily drift away in his arms. “Just for a little while…”

Franco opened his arms, inviting you to rest your head on his chest. You gladly took the offer, snuggling in close as the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat and the soft ocean waves lulled you to sleep.

After a few hours, you woke to find the sun setting, and the sky was painted in brilliant hues of orange and purple. You both stood, stretching and shaking off the sleepiness as you packed up. Franco grinned, wrapping an arm around you as the two of you walked back to the car.

And as you both headed back, the evening sky above you and the warmth of his hand in yours, it felt like the world was in exactly the right place.

[firelilyfox]

Some girls think it's cute

Thunderbolts: Bob x Female Reader

Summary: Bob has a HUGE crush on you and no talent in talking (shy king)

Warnings: none really. sfw. fluff overload. passionate kissing.

Words: 2k

Like always: leave a heart if you like or a comment or ideas :) all is welcome!

_____________________________

The sun rises over the skyline bringing New York to life again. 

Bob is already standing in the kitchen making coffee to survive the upcoming challenges for today: don’t break anything while training with Bucky, staying awake through the boring lectures by Yelena and most importantly… not having a stroke as soon as he sees Y/N. 

Multiple times this week Bob had severe problems to even breathe when you would enter the room or - god help him - standing within an arm length away. Every time you laid eyes on his nervous face he was already looking at you and the way you smiled because of it … he felt his heart skipped a beat. Or five. 

Worst of all: the others noticed. 

„Mornin’ Bob“, Bucky grumbles from across the huge kitchen slash dining hall. 

Bob looked up and sighted in relief (or disappointment). „Good Morning.“ 

„I bet you wish I had lovely curves and longer hair. Don’t ya?“ He said mockingly. And the pale skin in Bobs face turned instantly red. Bucky barks out a laugh. 

„Jesus this is too easy.“ He grabs himself a cup with his metal hand and poured some coffee in it. „You seriously have to work on your pokerface if you plan to keep this a secret.“ 

„I don’t know what you’re talking about“, Bob mumbles ashamed. 

Before Bucky could say anything else the elevator makes a soft ping sound and Yelena stepped inside the kitchen. One step behind her … there where you. 

„Hey Boys what’s up!“, Yelena shouts with a big smile. „Ready for some training with your favorite sparringpartners?“ 

„C´mon Yelena give me at least five minutes to enjoy my coffee before I’m going to kick your ass off the mat“, Bucky mocks. 

Bob couldn’t even hear the half of the conversation the two soldiers were having because he was way to focused on you standing there right in front of him. And now he sucked up every move you body was making while coming over to him. 

„Good morning Bob“, you said with a little rasp in your voice wich made it obviously that Yelena had just pulled you out of bed. „I’m so tired. No clue how they have so much energy at this time of the day.“ 

Bob swallows hard. Your hand lays right next to his while resting on the kitchen counter. „I-I… Yeah no clue.“ He wants to sink into the ground. 

For a second you just look at him, trying to figure him out, then you hit him with a shy smile. „You look good this morning … I mean you uhm - you look well rested.“ 

Bob froze solid in place to stare at you. He wasn’t able to move at all but his powers were totally going nuts. Heat sizzled beneath his skin and without noticing he mirrored it to Buckys full cup of coffee. Wich was bubbling now. He put the cup down, smiling knowingly and gave Bob a brotherly pat on his shoulder. 

„We will be down in a minute. You girls go ahead and we will meet you at the sparring halls.“ With a meaningful look Bucky gives Yelena a sign to not ask anymore questions. She smirked and grabs Y/N by the elbow to drag her away from Bob. 

After the girls had left the room Bob blinks multiple times to make sure he didn’t just dreamed that. 

„Well, I know for sure that you didn’t cook my coffee because of Yelena so … yeah. Work on that pokerface or tell her that you like her.“ 

Bob runs his hand through his hair. No point in denying it any longer. „I tried but every time I- I just … i go tongue-tied.“ 

„Some girls think it’s cute.“ 

Bob sighs. „I don’t want her to think I’m cute.“ 

**Downstairs**

It was even harder for Bob to focus while he is being forced to sparr against you. The rule is to not use any powers (especially for him because … well he could blow this entire building up within a heartbeat) so his only chance not to completely collapse as soon as he blocks some of your kicks was pure self control. 

After hours of hard training Yelena and Bucky decided that it’s enough for one day and made their way up to the quarters again. You and Bob stayed. 

„You are getting better and better each day Bob. Hard for me to keep up.“ The amusement in your voice sends a warm feeling right in his heart and fills his stomach with butterflies. 

„I just copy what I see. You have … you are … uhm I mean“, Bob stutters. Cursing himself for sounding like a damn toddler not being able to form a whole damn sentence. „You are amazing.“ The words escaped is mouth before he could think twice. 

You give him a thankful smile. „That is very sweet of you to say.“ 

Bob doesn't know how to respond to that so he stays silent. Wrenching his fingers nervously, trying to make eye contact without starring at you. 

„I - uhm“, Y/N starts. „I should go up and take a shower. But would you like to watch a movie later?“ 

A wide smile appears on his face. „Yes! I mean uh yeah sure. The others wanted to watch this uhm historic drama I think … I dunno how its called … but yeah if you want we can sit there together. I mean …“ His tongue gets all tied up again while trying to sound not to exited. 

Y/N giggles. „No that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to watch this historic thingy with the others. I wanted to ask if you would like to watch a different movie with me.“ 

Maybe the coffee were never able to stop a stroke from happening. Did he really just hear what he think you said? You wanted to watch a movie with him … alone? 

„But … there is only one home theater?“ 

„Yeah. But we could watch it in my quarters … if you like to come over?“ Your voice gets a silent as if you weren’t sure if Bob would like the idea. 

He swallows. Blinks. Then swallows again. „Y-Yeah. I would like that.“ 

**Later that day**

He flexed both of his hands before he finds the strength to knock at your door. With one last quick look at the corner of his eye he sees the entire Thunderbolts standing at the end of the long hallway pointing their thumbs up and smiling. Bob gestures to make them go away but that’s when the door swung open and suddenly he forgets about the nosy roommates. 

You were wearing a oversized shirt of a band he never heard of and one of your shoulders was showing. Your legs were covered in a tight black leggings, wich does not leave much for the imagination. With your hair tied up in a wild bun you looked very comfy.

„You look stunning“, he said with a scratchy voice. Bob could see that Yelena clutches a hand over her mouth and Bucky modding in approval. Ava and Walker trying everything in their power to keep Alexei from making any sound and he wanted to disappear in thin air. It was like having you parents watch you talking to a girl for the first time. 

Basically its exactly what was happening right now. He was thankful that you couldn’t see them from your position. That would make this even more awkward. 

A soft pink appears on your cheeks. „Thank you. Come in.“ 

Bob follows you inside and scans the room with one long look. It felt cozy and warm. In every corner was a plant and books were lying around on the different surfaces. The Tv were the only source of light wich made it even more … private. 

He catches you looking at him. „I like it. It looks like you.“ 

„I look like a room?“, you ask in confusion. 

„Pretty.“ He says, surprised by his own confidence. Never had he felt so brave talking to you but standing here in the middle of the room, that belongs to the girl he adores … makes him feel safer than ever. 

The two of you decide to watch a movie about something funny. Then you choose to watch another movie about something with much action scenes and fast cars. After that you decide to watch another movie wich you totally forgot what it was about because while being all cuddled up on the bed, you are getting closer with each passing minute. By the time the third movie was playing, your legs were laying across his lap and Bob has managed to almost naturally lay his arm around your shoulder, touching the small of your back softly. 

„I think that you are pretty too“, you whisper so silent that he almost missed it. 

„What?“ 

You raise your head from his shoulder to look at him. „You called me pretty earlier. And I think you are pretty too.“ 

„You were thinking of this for the last couple of hours?“ Bob asks in disbelieve. 

You nod. „I think about you quiet often.“ Your eyes dart down to his lips when they part in surprise. Bob notices not sure what it means. 

„Why?“, he finally whispers. „Why would you do that?“ 

You look away while clearing your throat. „Oh uhm - I - ignore what I just said. Sometimes I just say weird stuff.“ A nervous chuckle escaping your mouth, trying to cover up the embarrassment. 

Bob wants to slap himself across the face. Why couldn’t he have said something more ... well something more intelligent maybe? For fucks sake he were lying in a bed with the girl he was into head over heals and she told him hat she thinks about him and all he had to say to that was; Why?!  

Work on your pokerface or tell her that you like her. Buckys voice ringing in his ears with what he said earlier that day. He had to choose between them. 

But Bob didn't choose, because there is only one right answer. 

And he never wanted to have a pokerface. 

He gathers all his courage and hooks one finger under your chin. Gently forcing you to look at him. „I think … about you too. Quiet often Y/N.“ 

His thumb brushes over the soft skin of your bottom lip. „You do?“ Your voice was nothing more than a whisper asking him that. And he nods. 

Painfully slow his palm cups your cheek, long fingers touching the spot right beneath your ear, pulling you closer. „I have trouble to think about anything else.“ His lips brushes yours soft like a feather as if he was asking for permission. You lean into the kiss to deepen it and all of the hesitation falls of Bobs shoulders. His hand on your back holding you close to him and the other on find its way to your throat. Not to squeeze it, but to worship the sensitive skin. His lips calming yours. Your hands wander over his chest into his hair. 

The kiss wasn’t wild. It felt soft and gentle and passionate. You felt like falling and flying all at the same time. And he felt like he could finally breath again without trouble. Like you were the air he needs to stay alive. 

A sudden crack interrupts the intimate kissing. The window to your left is now having a huge dark line wich stretches all from the bottom left to the top right corner. 

„Was that …?“, you ask a little breathless. Bobs head falls back and he closes his eyes shut out of embarrassment. This cannot be happening. „Robert Reynolds, did you just crack my window?“ The amusement in your voice was unmistakable. 

„I’m afraid so.“ He sighs. „I’m sorry.“ 

You shake your head. „I think its cute.“ 

His eyes fly open in disbelieve. „You think I’m cute?“ 

„It’s not a bad thing“, you say and kiss him again. „I think it’s cute that I can make you loose control a little bit.“ 

He never saw it this way. He thought that being seen as cute meant to be weak and that he would never had a chance to get out of the friend zone. But apparently being cute is not at all a bad thing. So if the girl in his arms - and out of his dreams- thinks he is cute… then he wants to be cute for her. 

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 4

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 3 | Series Masterlist | Part 5

Chapter Summary: You try to continue the date like "normal" after Bucky's promise.

Chapter Word Count: Almost 3.4k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, unease, tension, possessiveness, mental and emotional whiplash, reader is trying to stay calm, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . I no longer do taglists, so please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You’ll be out of your apartment before the end of the month.”

The statement played on a morbid loop in your mind as Bucky pulled you up from your chair. The guard gave you two plenty of room to enter the penthouse again. You looked at him, trying to convey in your expression that you needed him to do something. Anything. The man gave you nothing in return. It was pointless to try. He worked for Bucky, not you. He wouldn't care.

“Did you mean what you just said? Your promise?” You asked as you followed Bucky to the dining room table. You wanted him to take it back, to tell you it was a joke. He couldn't make you leave your home by the end of the month. He had no right.

“I think you know the answer,” he said, pausing when you yanked your hand away and crossed your arms.

“And I think you have a lot of nerve,” you uttered as he pulled out your chair. “Where the hell do you get off? And how do you even plan to get me out of my home? It’s not like you own the building.”

You had no idea how deep Bucky’s pockets ran. There was a chance he could buy the building tomorrow or bribe someone into evicting you. Would he stoop that low?

“I adore you, Kotyonok, but I’m not going to tell you and ruin the surprise,” he smiled, gesturing for you to take a seat. “And you haven't seen me get off yet.”

You ignored his comment as you sat down and stared into the flame of the candlelight. The familiar scent of the meal drifting from the kitchen put you at ease for the most part, but your stomach turned. Would this really be where you'd spend your meals from now on? It didn't matter that the penthouse was beautiful. You had a home. Maybe it wasn't as nice as this, but it was still yours.

Did Bucky care about your distress at all?

You blinked when you saw your wine glass on the table. The guard had grabbed both of your glasses from the balcony. For a man of his size, he sure as hell moved quietly. “Thanks,” you whispered, taking another swig to help calm your flaring nerves.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“You know, I was so excited to have you in our home I don’t think I introduced the two of you,” Bucky said as the man stood tall. “This is Raymond, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you call him Ray since you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Bucky said “our” again. Not “his”. You wanted to go back to bed and hide under your covers. “It’s nice to meet you. Is it okay if I call you Ray?” You asked, not wanting his boss to speak for him.

How and why did he work for him anyway?

His eyes were a brighter shade of blue than Bucky’s, but still had a touch of coldness. Though his expression did soften a fraction as he considered your question. “You may. And it’s nice to meet you, too,” he replied, nodding toward the kitchen before he stepped back.

The chef walked over seconds later with plates in hand, a large smile on his face. “Here we are. We have the…” You tuned him out as the dish was set in front of you, your eyes on Bucky across the table. He didn’t look at the chef either, your gazes locked in a silent battle. Your hand began to ache before you realized you were gripping the handle of your knife. You released it and looked away, but you caught his smirk anyway.

He won.

“Enjoy!” The chef finished, clasping his hands together.

Bucky shot him a look before he could walk away. “I’ll enjoy it once I know she does,” he said, his smile soft as he turned his attention back to you. “Dig in.”

A beat passed and all eyes were on you, waiting for you to have the first taste. It was unsettling to say the least as you blindly grabbed a piece of flatware to take a bite. You slowly chewed the food and wished you could've appreciated the additional flavors the chef added to make your favorite meal that much better, but being under the scrutiny of the entire room took away the delight.

“It’s delicious,” you announced, bringing another piece to your mouth. The chef’s audible sigh made it hard to swallow. What would Bucky have done if you didn’t like the food? “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Bucky added, still gazing at you like you were the center of his world. “Ray, would you show him out please?”

The chef didn’t have to be told twice as Ray wordlessly led him away.

You didn't miss the way Bucky's eyes followed your motions as you continued to eat. They told you he’d rather have you for the meal. That he’d reach under the table at any moment and part your thighs to gather the taste of you on his fingers. You firmly pulled your legs together.

“Are you not hungry?” You asked. He hadn't touched anything on his plate. Too busy staring at you. Why was he so fascinated with watching you do something as mundane as eating?

“I wanted to make sure you ate enough before I dug in,” he answered, finally taking a bite. He groaned as his eyes slipped shut, the sound making you press your legs even closer together. Being handsome didn't excuse a thing and you refused to let him get to you. “You're right. This is delicious.”

You averted your eyes when he ran his tongue over his lips. “Well, you hired him, so I imagine he's an amazing chef.”

“He is. I’m not a bad cook, but I don’t cook as often as I'd like.”

You nodded. Running a club likely kept him busy, but he could've used his free time cooking or doing something else instead of looking into your life. You ranted about that already though.

“Maybe we can have a day of the week where we make a meal together. We’ll take turns picking different meals to try, like pizza. We’ll have to make a pizza together,” he said, leaning forward as his eyes lit up. “I could even set up a projector on the balcony if you wanted to cuddle outside and watch a movie. Or we could do something indoors.”

“What if I don't want pizza? Or a movie night?” You asked, trying to gauge his reaction since you actually enjoyed pizza and movies.

“If that isn't what you're in the mood for, we can figure it out together,” he offered.

“Can we?” You asked, pushing a bit of the food around with your fork. “Or will you just make the decisions for me?”

You were speaking as if you planned to continue with his delusion. That you would actually have dinner dates and movie nights and cuddle. Things you always wanted with the right partner. The one you chose.

He twirled the knife in his hand before he pointed it at you. “I told you I don’t want to control you.”

“Yet you’re putting me in a cage.”

“You have a lot of freedom,” he retorted, taking another bite. “It’s not like I’m telling you to stop spending time with your friends or not have hobbies. I just want you close by. And about your job-”

Your eyes flashed. “If you’re about to tell me I have to quit, I will throw wine on you.”

“Thought you said it was too delicious to waste.”

“I’ll throw your glass on you and enjoy the rest of mine,” you said, warmth creeping up your neck when he chuckled. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious, Bucky. I’m not going to quit my job. I don’t care how much money you have. I love what I do.”

He laughed still, but held a hand up on surrender. “Kotyonok, I won’t make you quit your job. I know you love being a florist and I’m not about to take something away that makes you happy.”

You reigned your inner claws in. “So, I can keep working like normal? And why are you calling me Kotyonok? What happened to doll?”

“Doll, Kotyonok, you suit them both.” He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, looking every bit like the king of his castle. “And you can.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you,” you said, wishing you didn’t feel the need to thank him when it shouldn’t be his decision to begin with.

The two of you ate in semi-comfortable silence after that. You wanted to trust that he wouldn’t mess with your job, but he was interfering in the rest of your life. Maybe it wasn’t a cage he had you in after all, but he did have you on a leash.

Either way, you were his pet.

“Dance with me,” he stated once your plates were clear.

“There’s no music,” you said before a soft melody began to play in the room. You glanced around and tried to find where the speakers were. Ray must’ve turned it on.

You allowed him to help you up from your seat to hold you close. You bit back a protest when he guided your hands to rest at the base of his neck. There was hardly any room between you as he rested his hands on your hips and helped you sway to the slow beat. It contrasted with how your heart raced and you had to close your eyes to escape his gaze.

“I felt like I’d been asleep for a long time until you came along. You woke me up. Made me feel,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’ll be happy together.”

His words had you catching your breath. He wasn’t the kind of predator who went right for the kill or the kind that merely stayed in the grass to bide his time. This was a cat and mouse of sorts. He caught and released you. The scary part was you didn’t know how long he’d hold onto you before he sank his teeth in or how long he’d let you run before he caught you again.

“I really want to kiss you,” he murmured, your heart thudding more as he rested a hand on your cheek.

“Not on the first date,” you said, hoping it sounded more like a tease than a complete refusal.

He chuckled and brought his lips to your ear. “What does our second date get me?”

You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, especially since he was playing along. But how long would you be able to fight off his want for you? “I guess we’ll play it by ear,” you answered.

“Making me work for it. I respect that,” he said, checking his watch as the song changed. “Speaking of being respectful, I should probably get you back to your place.”

As eager as you were to leave, you still asked, “No dessert?”

His heated eyes swept over you as he traced the diamond necklace with his finger. “I want you for dessert, but I’m trying to be good,” he replied, his voice husky as you held your breath. “I also made sure we’d have dessert to share in the car. Why don’t you go get your clutch and we can go?”

“Sure,” you said, taking one last look around the place as you went to get it. Bucky went to Ray and whispered something you couldn’t make out, but you went to the door instead of trying to eavesdrop. You didn’t want to know what the conversation was about. If it didn’t involve you, well, it wasn’t your business to begin with. And if it involved you, you were bound to find out anyway and you were too tired and mentally drained to deal with it.

A bath and more wine wouldn’t even help.

“I hope you like it,” Bucky smiled, holding up a small container as he joined you with Ray right behind him.

“Let me guess,” you said, taking the container from his hand. “It’s my favorite.”

“Of course,” he said, opening the door and putting an arm back around you.

You looked back when Ray didn’t follow you into the elevator, wishing he’d join you so you wouldn’t be alone with Bucky in there. You supposed it didn’t matter. Would he stop his boss if he tried anything or just look the other way?

It was surreal to leave the penthouse. You half expected him to go back on his word and not let you go. You glanced at him as the elevator went back down to the garage. Besides being a walking red flag, he was still a mystery.

“You said your mom would’ve loved me. Past tense,” you said, seeing his jaw clench. “Did something happen to her?”

He tightened his arm around you as the elevator stopped. “She’s gone and that’s a topic for another day,” he said, pausing to give you a tender smile. “But thank you for asking.”

The man had issues, but you hadn’t meant to touch on a sore topic. Why were you asking personal questions about him anyway? You weren’t his girl. He wasn’t going to be your guy. This wasn’t a fairytale. If it was, he would be the villain disguised as a king.

Bucky helped you back into the car, once again not waiting for the driver, and got in beside you. He barely had the door closed before you pulled you into his lap, the container almost falling from your hand as the other went to his chest. “Bucky, what are you-”

“I said you could sit in my lap after dinner,” he smirked, running a hand along your thigh. Your body went rigid as his hand trailed higher. “I won’t do anything except feed you.”

You stayed perfectly still as he moved his hand away and opened the container. He promised he wouldn't force anything tonight, but you didn't want to throw fuel on the fire by shifting and inadvertently teasing him. It would be fine. A short drive and you’d be back at your apartment.

“Open,” he ordered. You obeyed, your mouth opening up for him to place a piece of the dessert on your tongue. He swore under his breath as you closed your mouth to chew and his hand found its way back to your thigh. “Swallow it, Kotyonok.”

You were lucky you didn’t choke, the normally sweet treat sliding bitterly down your throat. He probably imagined saying those exact words to you in a very different sort of scenario. Feeling his hips move slightly beneath yours, he was likely imagining it right this second.

“Good girl,” he sighed, feeding you another piece before he buried his face in your neck. “I can't wait until you're really home.” His breath tickled your skin. “I won't have to say goodnight and watch you walk away. You’ll be beside me and fall asleep in my arms.”

“In your home,” you whispered, tilting your head to give you some space, but he followed.

“Our home,” he corrected you. “End of the month.”

Your chest ached, but you breathed evenly. You were almost home and could panic once you were alone. “It’s too soon. You understand that, right?”

“I went too long without having you by my side. You understand that, right?” He asked, cupping your cheek to make you look at him. “You went too long without me, too.”

It wasn’t fair that he was trying again to prey on your loneliness. “Bucky, you have to give me some leeway here.”

“We can figure it out together,” he said, the same thing he said during dinner. Dismissive. He thought he was going to get his way. And he would, wouldn't he?

“Well, we aren’t figuring that out tonight,” you said, pushing off his lap when the car came to a stop and fixing your dress since it rode up. “Good night.”

He stopped you from getting out. “I have to walk you to your door.”

“I’m not letting you in,” you warned. You needed your space.

“You do remember that I can get in your place without you opening the door for me, right?” He cupped your cheek again when your eyes rounded. “But I won’t do that tonight. I’m just making sure you get in safely.”

“That’s ironic coming from you,” you mumbled.

He chuckled and helped you out. Your building normally looked like a safe haven, but it was like there was a clock overhead counting down the moment until it was no longer yours. “I really do love how sweet you are, but I love your claws when they come out.”

“Careful. I just might scratch you.”

He groaned, leading you inside. “You know, you’re welcome to scratch up my back. Leave your mark on me and I’ll leave one on you.” He winked when you caught his eye. “And in you.”

He caught you when you stumbled. “Stop saying stuff like that, please,” you begged, straightening yourself out. You weren’t sure how much more you could take tonight.

“I can’t help myself,” he said, taking your phone from his pocket once you got to your door. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

His fingers touched yours as you took your phone back. “I had a nice time, too,” you said. Under normal circumstances, a romantic dinner and diamond necklace would’ve been a dream come true. “Good night, Bucky.”

He lingered as you unlocked your door. You turned to remind him that you weren’t inviting him, but you couldn’t speak when he leaned in. His lips brushed the corner of yours, all too gentle and intimate.

“Sweet dreams, Kotyonok.”

You ducked inside without another word and locked the door, listening for his footsteps. It took a moment, but you heard him walk away before you slid to the floor. It felt like you could finally breathe again since you were home and he wasn’t going to bother you again tonight.

Your heart sank though when you checked your phone and saw a message from Addison.

“Change of plans for tomorrow and I’m so sorry, but Brady somehow got us a reservation at The Terrace. Can you believe it?! Maybe we can hang out the day after?”

Tears burned your eyes. You were looking forward to seeing her. It would've been nice to pretend that everything was normal. Or maybe you would've told her at least something about your situation.

Your mind drifted to Bucky. The Terrace was one of the best restaurants around and usually booked a couple of months in advance minimum. Was it a coincidence that Brady somehow got them reservations on the day you were supposed to hang out with Addison or did your new suitor have something to do with it?

Speak of the devil, you received a new message from the man himself.

“Thank you again for the wonderful date. Are you free tomorrow night? I’d love to introduce you to some of my friends.”

Your eyes narrowed. The second you see that your plans are broken, he messages you? If you didn't think he meddled before, you certainly did now.

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

He messaged back seconds later. “Yes, you do. I can have it sent over or have it ready for you here.”

You huffed out a laugh before a couple of tears fell. Meeting Bucky’s friends would be another step in his plan to make you his. If they didn’t like you, maybe they’d sway him into forgetting about you. It was wishful thinking. Because you knew in your heart that Bucky wasn’t going to let you go.

But if he was going to play, maybe you could find a way to throw him off his game.

“I actually have plans. Maybe another time.”

You didn't bother looking to see if read the message or if he responded. Your life was your own. Bucky would have to deal with it. But knowing how he handled things so far, he’d find a way to have you on his arm tomorrow night.

Yay to @targaryenvampireslayer for guessing who the guard is! And what's Bucky going to do since you declined meeting his friends? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi