#Taylor swift x reader platonic
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skydrain · 9 months ago
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Sick Day
I had a dream the other night and realized I have been so terribly inactive on Tumblr and figured I could just put this out there. Completely take a turn in my account. So, I do realize this is so incredible niche. Do I care? No. Do I hope people like it? Obviously. Anyway, I hope this finds people who at least respect the vision lmao.
Summary: Y/N Swift-Styles (adoptive if you would please, bc shes like 16) spends the day in the Reynolds' house because Harry is across the world and Taylor has places to be and people to see (not in a bad way, she's a very good mom).
Disclaimers: nothing really, sicky stuff like sneezing and a puke bucket, no actual throwing up though. Other than that it's just cute family stuff and maybe a smidge of going crazy in emotional haze. Also, I totally made stuff up and did very little research. I am by no means pretending I know anything about these peoples lives.
Pay no mind to any spelling mistakes, sorry <3
Feel free to leave any constructive criticism, love that stuff truly
Sick Day
Y/N woke up with a very very stuffy nose. Not out of the norm if she’s completely honest, especially this time of year. Goddamn seasonal allergies amiright? However, the headache and full body chills is what allerted her that she could most certainly not go with her mom to the studio today and hang out doing online school like planned. 
Y/N walked into the living room where Taylor was collecting her sheet music and trying to put her many many sets of lyrics into order. 
“Moooommmm, *sniffle* I don’t feel good,” Y/N said as she plucked a tissue from the end table. 
Taylor whipped her head around when she heard her daughter's groggy voice. Quickly standing from the couch, she hurried towards her daughter and held her shoulder as she blew her nose. 
“Oh you poor thing, let me check your temperature,” rushing off to the bathroom, Taylor quickly returned with a thermometer and had Y/N put it under her tongue. Guiding her daughter to the couch, she grabbed the thermometer back and saw 100*f showing back. Grabbing Y/N’s shoulder and tugging her under her arm into a hug, Taylor began to think through her options. 
“Oh sweetheart, I feel terrible leaving you here alone like this, do you feel comfortable being alone, or I could maybe call Blake and see if you could go over to theirs?” Taylor made sure Y/N’s eyes were actually focussed on her as she asked. 
“No, I don’t want the kiddos to get sick *sniffle*,” was her response as she shoved her face into her mom’s side.
Little did she know Taylor was already ringing Blake to make sure her baby wasn’t left alone while she went to the studio. 
“Hey, hey, hey! What’s up?” Blake exclaimed as she answered the phone. Taylor was disappointed to hear that she was obviously calling from a car.
“Y/N is sick but I need to go to the studio and Travis is obviously not here, and Harry is pointless to contact because he’s even more so not here. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking her for a bit just so I know she's eating and not going to pass out, but I can hear your driving– “ Taylor was cut off by Blake. 
“Oh my poor fifth child. I wish I could, but me and the kiddos are on our way to my sister's house at the moment. BUT! Ryan is home right now and I’m sure he’d be more than happy to take her. He’s just doing some last minute line stuff and making sure he’s got his shit together before his meeting with the Marvel people Thursday. Hanging out with Y/N won’t bother him at all.”
“Oh, no no. That’s not necessary. I wouldn't want to bother him with this, I got it handled– “ again Taylor was cut off. 
“Hang on girl, we’re your village right now. A village that's happy to help I assure you. I'll call Ryan and have him call you. Don’t you sweat,” Blake hung up before Taylor got the chance to argue again.
All Taylor could do was sit and wait for Ryan to call and hopefully convince him it wasn’t necessary and she could have her personal assistant stay with Y/N for a few hours then cut her studio day short. 
Taylor glanced down at Y/N, it seems she had fallen back to sleep against her mothers side. That was okay, as long as she was comfortable Taylor was happy. 
Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing with Ryan’s contact popping up on the screen. She quickly answered and was prepared to start her speech but Ryan had begun before she could. She swore, the more she talked to him, the more it seemed like Deadpool was him and he was Deadpool.
“Hello Ms. Swift-Kelce, you've reached Ryans Daycare services, at what time will you be dropping off my fifth-favorite child (not that any of the other four are in any particular order mind you)?” He cheerfully greeted. 
“Ryan, seriously, as I told Blake, I don't want to disrupt you guys. She said you were busy, I don’t want to step on your toes,” Taylor responded exasperatedly, not taking the effort to comment on the Kelce name. She did however think to herself that she was happy she only had cats in addition to her one human child. 
“Um, no, sorry. The words ‘disrupt’ and ‘busy’ are not in my vernacular when pertaining to family and friends. Seriously, drop her off when you need to. I’ll get her set up in front of the tv with a bucket and pack of tissues and we can watch my entire filmography and it’ll make her good as new,” Ryan responded. Taylor swore she could feel his eye roll.
Heaving a sigh in response, Taylor finally conceded, “Okay, we’ll be by in a little over half an hour, I’ll have my driver take us by yours on the way to the studio. Thank you Ryan, I’ll make it up to you.”
“No thanks necessary, I will however accept a voucher that I can redeem on the day one of my kiddos graduates for a One Direction reunion at her grad party as payment,” he said cheekily, “see you in a half hour,” and hung up.
Once again heaving a sigh, Taylor resumed packing her papers into her bag while trying to keep Y/N asleep. Once ready, she began gently rubbing Y/N’s back to rouse her awake.
“C’mon hun, Ryans gonna take you for the day, okay?” Taylor put on her own shoes after handing Y/N’s to her. 
“Ooo! Okay *sniffle*, let me grab my phone and blow my nose one more time,” Y/N said as she headed back to her room. 
Once she came back, this time with her shoes on and phone in hand, the two made their way down to the lobby and were assisted into the back of Taylor's car.
Getting to the Reynolds house was quick work, though Y/N assumed that was mainly due to her hazy bouts of consciousness. God, she couldn’t wait to sink into their nice plush couch. 
There was something amazing about being taken care of like family by people who have no real obligation to you. Taylor and Harry were amazing parents. And Travis is iconic for sure. And Y/N was so so sure Kylie and Jason and their girls were gonna be phenomenal, but there was something so incredible about the Reynolds that has had her completely besotted since she met them. 
Maybe it was Ryans crack-head energy, or Blakes ever coolness, but they were definitely great people that Y/N was so happy her mom had in their lives. 
Speaking of, they were quietly pulling into their driveway now. Y/N could see Ryan opening the front door and standing there like a dork holding out a box of tissues like an offering. 
Taylor opened the door and made sure Y/N didn’t fall as she got out of the SUV. The two made their way to Ryan and Y/N happily took the offered box. 
“Sorry Blake and the munchkins aren't here kiddo, but you and I are gonna have the best movie marathon ever!” Ryan informed Y/N.
“You'll have more fun here than you would alone at home I’m sure, I’ll call the two of you when I’m on my way out of the studio alright?” Taylor got two nods in return. She made sure to thank Ryan a few more times, and kiss Y/N on the head, before making her departure back to the car. 
“Alright Y/N, let's get you set up on the couch,” Ryan helped Y/N through the door and lifted the fuzziest blanket she’s ever seen from the couch to make room for her to lay. 
After getting her situated, Ryan grabbed the TV remote and asked Y/N to pick what they’d be watching. After a few seconds of silence, Ryan turned to her and expected her to be asleep, that however, was not the case, and she was sitting there with tears brimming her water line. 
“Oh goodness sweetheart, what's wrong?! I’ve only had you five minutes and I’ve already caused tears,” Ryan sounded so in distress it was only causing Y/N to actually start crying. 
“I want to watch the gay boys,” she admitted very quietly after a few seconds of sniffling and one blowing of her nose into a tissue. 
“Okay, 
.I’m going to need a tad more information than that darling,” Ryan responded, feeling very confused, “Are we talking actually gay like Red White and Royal Blue, or Heartstopper, or something more underlying homoerotic like the Newsies, or Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes?” 
Ryan patiently sat and waited for a response, even if he felt quite out of his depth. I mean, who is he to judge what her comfort movie or show is, really. 
“I don’t know,” Y/N responded with a stronger burst of tears this time. 
“Okay, okay,” Ryan took a deep breath and tried to think. He’s a girl dad, he can do this. If he can’t even do this now then what does that say for his future with his own kids. He can do this, “alright! How about I make a wheel? A nice little one from google. We can put all the movies or shows you want to watch in there and neither of us have to choose, how’s that sound?” 
Ryan was feeling quite proud of himself with this idea, and Y/N seemed to be pretty on board, but then her face pinched up, and he didn’t know what he’d do if she started crying again. 
Y/N quickly grabbed another tissue and sneezed. God she hated being sick. It made her so emotional with all the overstimulation of feeling hot then cold, and the tissues becoming rougher and rougher on her nose, and her ears keep popping. Ryans idea sounded glorious. A wheel of her favorite things so she’d be happy no matter the outcome AND she didn’t even have to choose herself. Yes please. 
Finding her phone in the cushions, Y/N searched through her imessages to find the list of movies she had sent her mom to be downloaded to her plane's video software. Handing it to Ryan, Y/N watched as his form instantly relaxed and he began typing the titles into the wheel as he said. Once finished, he handed her phone back and also gave her his own so Y/N could spin the wheel. 
Clicking the button, Y/N watched the movies go around and around. Ryan even tapping a drum roll out on his thighs to make Y/N giggle. Y/N was quite happy when the wheel stopped on X-Men: First Class. Nothing better than some Cherik and Jennifer Lawrence for when you’re sick. 
Taking his phone back, Ryan quickly got Disney+ up and running to play the movie. If he was feeling a little jealous that she preferred x-men over his own Deadpool that he snuck onto the wheel, well, that was for him and nobody else to know about. He personally loved watching Deadpool when feeling under the weather. 
Hopefully his new project will make it onto the list of her favorite underlying homoerotic movies. 
Once the movie was playing, the two settled down to watch with rapt attention. Ryan would sometimes be disrupted by Y/N sneezing beside him, but it was pretty smooth sailing through the beginning. Ryan could see Y/N’s head turning into the pillow before jerking up to the screen again, but didn’t pay it too much mind. She’d sleep in no time.
Only, he probably should’ve kept a closer eye. The next time her head jerked up was when the youngins were all giving each other nicknames. It was quite a cute moment really. Only, Ryan turned to Y/N and saw more tears welling up. 
“Oh gosh, what’s up honey?” Ryan asked, trying to sound as upbeat as he could through his panic.
“I missed when Logan told them to fuck off,” Y/N responded with a wavering voice. 
Ryan again felt incredible relief, “oh thats an easy fix, we can rewind no problem sweetheart,” Ryan leaned forward for the remote and began to rewind back to when Charles and Erik began selecting mutants, all the while listening to Y/N’s cries lessen into sniffles. This also assured Ryan that maybe he would make it onto the favorites list
  everyone loves Hugh Jackman. 
Playing the movie from that point went fine. Y/N actually settled down to actually fall asleep after the Cherick gun-to-head bonding. 
Once she was asleep, Ryan felt comfortable running up to his office to bring his project outlines down to the dining table.  
This is how they spent the next few hours. Ryan woke Y/N to eat some soup he made, and then did end up putting on Red White and Royal Blue because he hadn't seen it. Y/N ended up falling asleep again around the group's Texas trip. 
Near the end of the film, Taylor called Ryan and informed him she’d be by in twenty minutes, along with another string of unnecessary apologies. 
Ryan decided to let Y/N sleep and welcomed Taylor in to wake her. The last thing he needed today was another bout of tears. 
After Taylor and Y/N hugged Ryan bye (with another round of thanks and sorrys) the two got back in the car and made their way to their apartment. 
“Did you have a good day sweetheart?” Taylor asked.
“Yeah, I had a good couple sleeps and food,” was all she responded with. Taylor figured that was good. Usually when at the Reynolds' she comes home with stories of the mischievous activities they got up to. Taylor can imagine that the lack of details means it was pretty tame, she’ll have to call Ryan for more details, but that could wait. 
Arriving at their building, Taylor and Y/N made their way into the lobby, both thanking the doorman of course, and up the elevator to their apartment. 
“Go take another nap sweetie, you look like you need it,” Taylor got Y/N laid out in her bed and got her shoes off her before tucking her in. Meredith even joined her in Y/N’s room and hopped up on the bed to begin her healing purrs. 
Kissing Y/N on the head, Taylor left the room to start making a light dinner. She’ll have to look into what it’d take the 1D boys to perform at James’ graduation party. She had like nine years, she’ll make it work. 
The End
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twobluejeans · 2 years ago
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HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!
charles leclerc x famous!reader
summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.
part 10: xoxo, barbie series masterlist
faceclaim: madison beer
ally’s radio đŸ“»: PART 10! i recommend listening to marjorie by taylor swift to this chapter so u feel the vibe.
TWITTER, july 19
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yourinstagram just wrapped up the european leg of the Eras Tour, and my heart is bursting with gratitude and emotion. this journey has been an extraordinary one, and i couldn't have asked for a more incredible audience to share it with. 
last night, we closed out this chapter in the city where my mother was born, and i have no words to express how special it was. the energy, the love, and the connection we shared in that moment made it the best show of my life.
to everyone who came out to the shows, sang along, danced, and created memories with us, thank you from the bottom of my heart. your passion and support have been the driving force behind every performance, and i’m endlessly grateful for the moments we've shared together. 
this tour has been a journey of self-rediscovery and growth, and i’m so lucky to have such an amazing team by my side. the dedication, creativity, and hard work they've poured into every detail have made this experience truly magical. 
as we move forward to the next leg of the tour, i carry with me the love and warmth of each city we've visited. your energy and enthusiasm have fueled my spirit, and i can't wait to see where the Eras Tour takes us next. 
from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being a part of this adventure. let’s continue to make memories, share moments, and celebrate the magic of music together. here's to the journey ahead!Â đŸŠ‹đŸ«§
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INSTAGRAM, july 20
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yourstory 8h
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enews click link in bio to read everything we know so far about the controversy that is y/n l/n’s and charles leclerc’s breakup.
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dutchverstappen_ n e ways

ripy/nsferrariera CAUSE KARMA IS MY BFFFF
leclerc16ferrari i love charles but to say this isn’t well deserved would be lying 💀
INSTGRAM STORIES, july 20
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yourinstagram happy birthday to my guardian angel! today, as i celebrate another year of life, i can't help but remember the incredible woman who brought me into this world. we share the same birthday, and though you're not physically here with me, i feel your presence in every beat of my heart.it’s been 15 years since you left us, but your love, guidance, and beautiful spirit have never faded from my life. you were not just my mom; you were my best friend, my confidante, and my rock. losing you at the age of 12 was the most challenging thing i’ve ever faced, but i’ve carried your strength and love with me every step of the way.you were there for all my firsts - my first day of school, my first dance recital, my first guitar lesson. you taught me kindness, compassion, and the importance of staying true to myself. your unwavering support and belief in me still resonates deeply, even when life feels overwhelming. i often find myself looking up at the night sky, knowing that you're shining down as one of the brightest stars. your light continues to guide me, reminding me that no matter how tough life gets, i have your love to carry me through.so, here's to you, mom - the strongest, most beautiful soul i’ve ever known. thank you for being my guardian angel and for making every birthday feel like a celebration of your love and spirit.
wishing i could hug u one last time,
your y/n/n. đŸ€
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fernandoalonso she’s watching over you and she’s so proud of how far you come. she’s by your side always, front row at all of your concerts. forever with you wherever you go, your guardian angel
bellahadid she’s so proud of u, babe. we all are đŸ–€
sabrinacarpenter happy birthday 💗
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yourinstagram oh god, i’ve cried at least 3 times trying to type this so hopefully fourth times the charm.
as i take a moment to reflect on my unforgettable journey on the set of Barbie, my heart is overflowing with emotions. i can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the incredible opportunity i was given and the remarkable people who made it all possible. 
to the extraordinary visionary, greta gerwing, thank you for trusting me with the role of Barbie and for guiding me through this artistic voyage. barbie played a big role in my life as a little girl, i adored every barbie film series and for you to chose me as you barbie is something i will always be in debt to you for. your passion and creativity was infectious, and i’m forever grateful for the chance to collaborate with such a talented director. the experience has left an indelible mark on my soul. 
and to my lovely cast-mates, fellow Barbies, and Kens, you are the heart and soul of this film. each one of you brought a unique and irreplaceable energy to the set, and i in awe of your dedication and talent. together, we laughed, cried, and supported one another, creating a bond that will last a lifetime. thank you for being my rock on-screen and off-screen. you are my true stars. ⭐
 the memories we've made during the filming process will forever be etched in my heart. from the exhilarating moments of shooting magical scenes to the heartwarming conversations behind the scenes, every single second has been a treasure. the friendships that blossomed during this journey are the kind that go beyond the silver screen, and i feel incredibly blessed to have shared this chapter with each one of you. 
i can't help but be proud of what we've created together. the love, effort, and dedication poured into Barbie shine through every frame. it’s my hope that this film will not only entertain but also inspire and touch the hearts of all who watch it. i want each person to experience the same excitement and joy that filled my heart while bringing Barbie to life.
thank you to the entire production team, crew members, and everyone behind the scenes for your tireless efforts in making this dream come true. your passion and commitment to the project have been awe-inspiring, and i’m forever grateful for your hard work and dedication. 🙏
so here's to Barbie and to all of you who made it an unforgettable adventure. let’s spread its magic far and wide, and may it bring joy and wonder to audiences around the world. thank you, from the depths of my heart, for being a part of this incredible journey. i love you all! 
BARBIE is out now in theaters everywhere. 💕
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dualipa 🎀💞
fernandoalonso_offical Felicidades cariño, estoy increíblemente orgullosa de ti. Te extraño
sabrinacarpenter i’m sick of kens i need an alan
yourinstagram sabrinacarpenter agreed.
gretagerwing Fourth pic đŸ„č my babies!! Love you Guys!!
americaferrira obsessed with you and your performance! can’t wait for everyone to see it
florencepugh IVE RETURNED A CHANGED WOMAN AFTER WATCHING BARBIE
y/nsreputation she’s in her barbie era
lolaransdell_fan33 am i the only one who thought ryan gosling was kinda too old to play ken? like the age difference between y/n and him is weird too💀
yourinstagram lolaransdell_fan33 he was and is kenough.
robertdowneyjr Proud of you, kiddo. Anyways, go watch Oppenheimer in theaters today đŸ–€đŸ’Ł
yourinstagram robertdowneyjr how do i pin this comment??
TWITTER, july 21
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ally’s radio đŸ“»: YASS WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!!!! what r our thoughts?
@incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife@mrsmaybank13@black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx@lilsiz@ohthemisssery@leclerclvr
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strawberrykisseslia · 6 months ago
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What it means to be family
pairing: mom!Taylor Swift x teen!daughter!reader , PLATONIC
tw. hurt/comfort, Taylor is a sweet mom, the father has no name, reader probably has both parents issues, your father left, mention of fighting, pre - eras tour Taylor, Taylor is maybe a little older but not much - a year or two older, proofread
an: starting the new year with miss taylor swift? YEAHHH i might start to write more for her because it's fun!!! and this healed my inner child, happy new year's by the way!!!
Masterlist
wc. 1206
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You were never prepared for what came with being a super star's kid. No one knew how hard it would be when you truly start growing up.
It had been just you and your mom for a couple of months now since her separation with your father. They never told you the reasons why. But you knew it was for the better. The house was filled with sadness and anger. Their fights echoed in your ears every night your mom gave you a goodnight kiss. How could you even forget?
"For her at least!" Your mom yelled in the living room and you just stood in the door frame out of their sight.
"No- Are you even listening to me? I can't keep on living like this," your father fought back.
"I don't want her to grow up without a father," Taylor lowered her voice a little and shook her head. They had been through this more than enough times but she couldn't let him go just like that.
"I will visit," he promised. He always promised things but never kept them.
Taylor already knew that he wouldn't and he was just saying it. She shook her head.
You just watched their fights without ever wanting to participate in them. You were only six when they started to become more often. Almost everyday. Your father found reasons to waste the time with them.
One night while you were sleeping Taylor watched him go. She didn't have the strength to stop him this time. She just let it happen.
The morning that came after that was silent and sad. All your mom said to you was that he needed to go away for some work thing. She never said more but you were big enough that he won't come back this time.
-
It's been ten years since and it's just been you and your mom, Taylor Swift. Her biggest tour, The Eras Tour was starting soon. You never told her but you were scared. You were scared that you won't be able to meet as often and that she would stop loving as much, even though that wasn't true.
"Baby, do you want to help pick songs out?" she opened the door to your room as you were sitting in front of your makeup table. You saw her in the reflection of the mirror.
"Sure," you shrugged your shoulders and offered a gentle smile.
You followed her into her office and sat down next to your mom. Hands folded and on your laps. You wanted to tell her about your fears but you didn't have the heart to upset her. She was the best mom you could've ever asked for even though she had her own mistakes you never loved her any less or started to distrust her.
Though, Taylor started to notice your silence whenever she brought up The Eras Tour. It didn't go unnoticed by how tense you got at the first mention of it, how long it will be.
"So, how do you want it to be?" you asked as you raised your gaze to look at her.
She put a small smile on her face, "I was thinking about starting it with Lover. Since the Loverfest got cancelled, I think that's a good idea."
You nodded. You remembered how excited she was to perform her first owned album and how sad she was when she had to cancel it thanks to the pandemic.
"The era would start with Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince," her voice faded into the void as you started to daydream.
The other day you were out with friends and you watched how one of your friends got dropped of by her dad. And how she got a cheek kiss and a big hug before she ran over to you. Then her dad and mom picked her up and they went on their way.
You never told anyone but you actually really carved your father's love and attention, even if he never played his part. There were good and unforgettable moments with him that you cherished and kept hidden from the whole world, even hidden from Taylor. They were just yours to keep.
"Look! She is taking her first step," your father yelled for Taylor to come into the living room. She came rushed in with a camera in hand to document your achievement.
"Oh, my baby," she melted behind the camera as you were starting to almost walk.
You fell but you just smiled and giggled happily. Then everything felt perfect even if you didn't remember too much only seeing on videos.
Your parents smiled and laughed with you. Nothing ever felt more happier than that moment before all the fighting and yelling.
"Y/N? Are you okay?" your mother worriedly asked as she pulled you out of the daydreaming.
You shook your head and stepped back into reality again, "Yes, of course- I'm fine," you assured her and soothed her worry a little bit.
Taylor let out a heavy sigh and fully turned to you in her seat.
"I know how hard it is for you, and how hard it has been ever since..." she couldn't really say it out but you knew what she meant. She was still not over it herself as well.
"But I am always here for you," she reached out for your hand and you let her take it, "though, I feel like something else is also bothering you."
You lowered your gaze, you couldn't keep looking into her eyes and see all love and understanding for you and when you didn't want to let her go on a world tour and just stay with you forever. You felt selfish. But you truly just didn't want to lose another parent. That was a nightmare that always came up late night when you were trying to sleep peacefully.
"Mom, I-" you fell into silence but soon after decided to fight yourself and say it out loud, "I don't want you to tour," you raised your head to meet her eyes.
Her eyes softened and let you continue.
"It's just- what if you won't have time for me anymore? What if you will start to love me less?" you looked down, "I don't want to lose you too," you softly admitted.
She cupped your cheeks and forced you to make eye contact with her.
"You are my baby, my child," she softly and slowly said so you would listen, "Nothing and no one will ever be as important as you are, my love," she smiled and started to giving you kisses all over your face.
You giggled at your mom's behaviour like you were still a little baby.
When she stopped giving kisses, she continued her speech, "I was actually thinking about taking you with me on tour. And if you want a few, only a few friends can come along," she said with a smile.
"And I will never ever love you any less and I will always have time for my little angel and you won't get rid of me for many years to come," she stopped and pulled you into a deep, loving hug. You haven't felt this happy in a while.
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collectivecloseness · 2 years ago
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Robin Buckley from st and 9 please
Okay but Bejewelled by Taylor Swift is such a sweet one for Robin haha 💖
(Cw: set in 80s so tiniest mention about society not being super open minded but that’s it, it’s v fluffy)
Robin Buckley x reader
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Your girlfriend Robin had had a pretty lousy day yesterday.
She came home nearly screaming, grunting long and hard as she threw her face into your chest as she (just successfully) landed on the sofa and your lap. When you stroked through her blonde hair to ask her what was wrong, she told you about this girl Kelly from her old high school who came to Robin at work and asked her out.
You were a little stunned, blinking and giving a small “Wow” as you kept petting your love’s hair. Robin at least turned her face up from your boobs, glaring up at you with that sharp eyeliner around those shiny blue eyes. Groaning “Uh huh!!” In exasperated agreement.
You were shocked Kelly had even been so blunt to ask, knowing what the townsfolk around here are like, but you lightly massaged Robin’s scalp as you let her explain, vivid hand gestures clanging her bracelets around, and all.
“Steve didn’t know whether to go to the store room, or stay and back me up, but like, I didn’t even know Kelly was gay! And she was always so mean in high school, I didn’t know if she was trying to out me or something.” Robin explained, cut off from her ramblings as she looked up to your huff in suspense at the small noise, cutting off her train of thoughts.
“Oh baby, I’m sorry.” You frown a little, stroking her freckled cheek with the back of your hand where you held her.
Robin just made some vague waving hand gesture, quickly moving on to keep up with what she wanted to tell you. “So yeah I said something like ‘Uhhh... no thanks! Sorry, no, I mean, I won’t tell anyone of fucking course’, goddamn!” Robin sighed annoyed “‘But yeah, sorry, not for me-‘ you know polite crap like that.” Robin looked up at you nodding, and you of course nodded back in solidarity.
“You’re very polite babe.” You sort of half lied, confidently though.
“Yeah! Exactly! But then she went all... mad! And started asking me ‘Ugh, what’s your damage?!’ And saying that I wasn’t hot anyway and she had plenty of dates lined up anyway!” Robin rolled her hands in the air, wafting near your face. “But then, like, why ask me out at all? Asshole! She clearly couldn’t handle me.”
Robin looks up to you, serious eyes from where she lays in your lap. And you can’t lie, sometimes you find the side of Robin that can be confident, mean, sarcastic, that side of her, pretty hot. And with her tone and her expressions right now, she was definitely hitting that part of her personality.
“She wanted you babe.” You nod seriously, and Robin’s blue eyes widen, some pink flushing beneath her freckles as she leans up so fast you have to swerve your head back, now sitting on your lap as she slaps her hands down to her knees, tucking them up with her. “That’s what I’m saying! Plus I wasn’t sure if she actually meant it or not, I mean she was never exactly ‘nice’ to me before.” Robin makes air quotes with her ringed fingers. “And then she turns around and says I’m ugly anyways even though she came to my work to try and pick me up!” Robin scoffs loudly.
And what your girlfriend is saying actually distracts you from the fact that just as much Robin can’t sit in a chair properly, she doesn’t really do the same in your lap either.
“Wait, she called you ugly?” You ask, a big expression of disgust turning on your face now, your hand going straight for the side of Robin’s chest where you can hold her, as it’s your turn to scoff. “Wow, you must’ve really demolished her self esteem Robin babe. I mean, to be fair, who can survive being turned down by you?” You exhale incredulously, pissed off someone would say that to Robin, even though you both knew they were just deflecting, but deciding to turn it around so the both of you could continue slating this complete loser, which is clearly the vibe that was happening right now.
“Right!” Robin throws her hands up one more time, before sighing, and turning her attention to cupping and stroking your face between her long fingers and sharp nails. “Well at least I never had to do that to you.” She smiles, finally feeling as vindicated as she knew she would be, coming home to complain with you.
And you let Robin pull you in for a kiss, that you more than happily joined in with. You let her be her more dom self as you carried her up to your room too. Although you knew Robin wasn’t done. Even if it wasn’t for her staring up at the ceiling in bed, and also stroking her hands kind of evilly.
Robin had a plan in mind. And she was more than happy to wake you up just as you dozed off on her chest, to ask you if you knew if Eddie and Nancy were free tomorrow night also.
One of the first things she did after smacking loads of kisses on your face until you were awake, and after the moment she said hello to you, was running with a blanket wrapped around her into the hallway; just as you’d woken up enough to be about to roll over, and cuddle her.
But it was easy to tell when your girlfriend was on a mission. You hear her saying “Steve! Listen!” But that’s about it, and you’re not surprised she woke him up too, at least it made sense where she was running off to.
You had an idea why she was eager to go talk to Steve, but Robin all but confirmed it for you when she came back, and told you she has a plan.
“That’s great babe.” You said right into the pillow you were face down in, with a pointed thumbs up, literally about to fall asleep again.
But then, Robin’s slender hands were running up your bare shoulder blades that the quilt just wasn’t covering. And you were smiling even before you opened your eyes, as you turned your head so your cheek was laying on the pillow instead, to see Robin standing above you. A different kind of devious smirk on her face and sparkle in her eyes.
Robin had said for you to hang out with Eddie and Nancy maybe, just to have some fun today! Because she needed to go out after lunch to meet up with Steve.
You kissed her goodbye after sharing a salad bowl together, and smacked a kiss onto your hand before slapping that on Steve’s temple, as he waved at you from the drivers seat, besides where your girlfriend was getting in.
“Thanks.” Steve gave you, eyes crinkled from the sun, and your sudden hand on his face, looking up at you, before you said bye to them both and waved them off.
Robin had told you before she left that ‘you’re all going out tonight’, having sounded very convincing on the phone to both Nancy and Eddie, as they also knew what side of Robin’s personality was shining today.
You were all meeting up at Steve’s house, which was the designated hang out zone, and luckily you all had keys, so you let yourself in pretty early in the day. Nancy had spent the past hour and a half with you in Steve’s home, and Eddie have arrived about twenty minutes later, all of you waiting for Robin, and Steve, as you played some Uno while waiting.
You all turned your heads up, different sounding “Hey!”’s from all three of you, when you heard the door finally open and shut. But you could barely spot a flash of your girlfriend, Steve right behind, and seemingly being dragged by Robin by the hand, as they both rushed up the bannister.
“Sorry babe, guys! We’ll be down later! Keep hanging out!” Robin encouraged you all. And even though you and Nancy shared a look of intrigue, Eddie already helping himself to more of the popcorn you’d brought out a while ago, you heard Steve’s bedroom door slam. And with a shrug, decided to leave Robin and Steve to it, they’d come down when they were finished. ...With, whatever it is they were doing.
You hadn’t even noticed that well over half an hour had gone by, until Robin was calling you from the stairs.
“Are you guys ready?”
You, Nancy and Eddie quickly got up, you sending her and Steve a “Yeah!” As you three stood up in the living room, waiting on in intrigue, until Robin and Steve finally walked through the door.
Robin walked down in a drop dead sparkly dress, glittery and her colour, with beautiful eye make up, and her shiny lips smiling open mouthed in anticipation at you, and all her friends. Steve was in a matching sparkly jacket too, that he’d been ‘persuaded’ to wear by Robin. With a long shirt tucked mostly beneath his going out pants, Steve could make anything look good you swore it was a superpower. But your girlfriend... your jaw dropped to the floor, in a wowed and breathless laugh.
When she walked in the room, the whole place lit up. Reflections of her dress by the lamp illuminating the room, and a bright beam on her face, causing the whole room to shimmer and glow, or maybe you just truly felt that, looking at how happy and stunning your girlfriend Robin was right now.
“Woah!” Eddie breaks the silence first, clapping his hands together once as he takes in the pair. While behind you Nancy gives an “Oh my God.” As you’re already on your way, running up to Robin.
“Wow babe.” You admire.
Robin opens her arms up, with a bright grin on her beautiful face. “Baby love.” She calls you, as you wrap your arms around her back, her own hands cuddling your arms in your hug.
Your hands run up her bare shoulder blades - that feel really silky smooth right now, wow - as you hug her close. Pulling your head back to look her up and down, admiring every little detail Robin poured into herself. “Wow... you look beautiful Robin.”
Robin bounces in her flats, rubbing your own biceps a bit - you’re sure she must’ve put some cream or powder on her hands too because they are just, so soft - before she leans in, to peck a small kiss to your cheek. And you can feel the sticky lip gloss leaving a small mark there too. “Thanks my love.” She smiles, still bouncing eagerly.
You hear Steve laugh at something Nancy says, seeing her pinch the fabric of his sparkly jacket between her fingers, both giggling. Eddie paying attention too, nodding approvingly at Steve. “Yeah, you polish up real nice Harrington.”
Which is met with a response of “Shut up.” By Steve who bitch flicks Eddie’s hand away from where he is, admittedly, prodding at him. But Steve smiling all the same, and it makes you smile too, even though he’s not looking at you.
You love to see him so happy helping Robin out, that’s he’s genuinely not upset at her taking his day away to get him all dressed up to match with her in a big sparkly outfit for her plan, or to have his friends staring and poking at him for it, any of the sort. He’s not complaining about the outfit, in fact no ones making fun of any of them, and to be fair, they’re styled so well they actually look amazing. But you do sincerely love, that Steve is your girlfriends best friend. You couldn’t imagine anyone better for that role for the love of your life. And you’re glad Steve has Robin too.
Steve noticed you smiling at him then, turning to face you. And as you caught his brown eyes, your smile only warmed. And Steve, the true friend he was to you as well, kept smiling back all the way.
Nancy comes to give Robin a quick hug, both holding each other’s elbows as she asks about what stores Robin has been to all day, when Eddie came over and pat Robin’s shoulder too, and she turned up to smile at her friend.
“That actually suits you too Buckley. And when you made your grand dramatic entrance, with all the lights and shit,” Eddie waves his hand in the air “you aura was totally moonstone... or like, diamond, or... shit which one of them is really sparkly?”
Robin just snorts, looking up at Eddie with a hand to her mouth. And Steve has that mom look on his face again, the one where if Robin saw it, she’d definitely laugh harder.
“Did you smoke before coming here?” Steve does the gesture to his lips, asking Eddie.
Nancy popping in, telling Steve and Robin “He says he had an edible maybe two hours ago? I don’t think he’s exactly down yet. At least because we all know Eddie’s stuff works pretty well.”
Eddie just beams, full teeth, straight at Robin and Steve, with his hands proudly behind his back, rolling on the balls of his feet.
You roll your eyes, smiling at your friend, but turning to Robin. Holding both her hands outstretched in each of your own, your thumbs rubbing softly across the knuckles of her cool fingers. “I declined.” You inform her.
Robin gets that big, put on ‘that’s surprising, in a delightful way’ sort of look on her face, as she tilts it at you. “Wow. Oh my God, you didn’t accept Eddie’s free weed this time?”
You shrug, still swinging your hands between both your bodies. “I knew it was gonna be your special night!” Is all you needed to respond with.
And God, if Robin doesn’t love you so much...
She gently grasps your hands as she leans over, pecking your lips solidly, and smiling at you the entire time she leans backwards. “Thank you my diamond.” She calls you, and you tilt your head with a smile at the new nickname. But when she turns to face Eddie after those words, with her raised brows and a knowing look on her face, it all makes sense.
You giggle, getting her attention swiftly back, and her blue eyes only twinkle more as you raise her luxuriously soft hands up with your own, and kiss over the backs of both of them.
“Mmh!” You can’t contain your excitement for Robin. Letting go of one of her hands and raising the other, twirling her grinning when she squeals and whoops with the movement. Making sure you focus on catching her in your arms because you know Robin’s not the most balanced when she’s wearing her usual sneakers, never mind flats.
With her in your arms, you just want to playfully growl and happily kiss all up her neck, burying your nose in there to kiss fast and lots, but you know the others around may not be quite as appreciative as Robin would be. So you settle for planting a sweet kiss to her jaw, lifting her back up straight, but still holding her in your arms, as you ask what you’ve been wanting to all day.
“So? What is the plan? Why are you and Steve all dressed up? I’ve been dying to know.” You hold onto her hand and wrists, Robin leaning in close to you, and you definitely notice her eyes not peering anywhere but your lips as she smiles. Even as Eddie and Nancy ask the same as you.
Eventually Robin looks up, seeing Steve was waiting for her to explain as the floor was hers, if she wanted it, and Robin stood up straight, rather than leaning into you, although she still kept you holding her.
“We’re going to the club tonight. Brava. The one where Eddie can get us in because he helped them fix their sound one time-“
Eddie bows, so lucky accidentally walking past and knowing *something* about speakers actually gave him and his friends a free pass to one of the better clubs in Hawkins.
“And it’s the one where Kelly works at.” Robin looks pointedly at you, and you slowly nod as you begin to get it. Steve’s nodding along too, clearly the first privy to Robin’s master plan.
“We are going to turn up there, looking stunning. We’re all going to dance, a full group of friends, we’re going to drink and have fun. And I’m going to be able to show you off.” Robin points her nose out close to you, her face adoring and admiring, and twinkling with delight at her scheme.
You smirked. Some people may be glad Robin wasn’t going there just to, maybe, show herself off to Kelly, as if to say ‘see I’m hot’, but you very much want to go to the club and praise that fact. I mean, you’d love being able to show everyone how smoking hot your girlfriend is, whenever the chance arises.
Robin smiles at your in on the plan expression. And she turns to everyone else, giving a coy shrug. “If she’s going to show up at my work and cause a scene, then I’m going to let her know what it feels like. Except I’m just going out and having fun with my friends and girlfriend.”
You squeezed Robin’s hip in approval. Kelly doing all that at Robin’s work was out of line. Plus, she was lucky it was only Steve around to hear, as you knew Robin was already out to him, not like Kelly would have. It’s nice to see that side of Robin coming out to kick ass, and go girlboss mode, as she rightfully should.
Nancy and Eddie eagerly agree with the plan, happy them all having a good night out and getting vengeance on behalf of their friend can be done at the exact same time.
“I wanna really dance with you there!” Robin says facing you. Your heart pumping as Robin brings her hands to the side of your chest. Rolling her palms along your skin and muscle, as her fingers slither to your spine. Catching yourself opening your mouth halfway, as if you let Robin in to kiss you. And you have to admit, a certain throb ran through your thighs when you saw a smirk just light up on her face, as her eyes found your lips, and you knew she’d realised what had just happened.
But, extremely unfortunately for you, Robin couldn’t grant you what you wanted because Steve who’d completely missed those subtle movements was wrapping his arm around Robin, and giving a big speech to Eddie, Nancy, and also you, about how wrong this girl was and how they all have to go out and defend their friend. Robin smiles and hugs into Steve’s side as he went on passionately, sticking up for her even in a room full of people who love her. And you absolutely just have to love Steve, no matter if he interrupted a kiss or not, there was no way you could care about his himboness traits coming into affect around his lesbian best friend.
Eddie cheers along with Steve’s little speech, and you and Nancy cry along too with approval. Steve bouncing happily on his feet at doing so well for getting his point across for Robin, and he looked down at her still underneath his arm, and with the way she was grinning, Steve felt proud for not only helping her get through a pretty crappy time, but really making it wonderful for her.
Although Steve did mention how he and Robin had been sharing a bottle of champagne upstairs while they were getting ready, and probably mostly talking and talking and talking, as per usual, due to how long they took. You presumed he got it from his parents cabinet, although you were slightly surprised to learn this because you just thought Robin and Steve were happy, because those two were usually the ones to get drunk first, if they were drinking together. Maybe they were slightly tipsy. You did want some of the champagne though if they hadn’t finished it off.
“You guys pre’d without us?” You ask, faux offended.
Robin extended her arm out at you. “You guys could’ve been drinking all evening if you wanted! Steve still had to drive us back.”
Eddie mentions something about how he should’ve brought booze and weed tonight, to which Nancy just shakes her head, at least with a smile, at him. Causing Eddie to smile back.
But you ask Robin and Steve for some champagne, and they both nod. No one here cares about swigging from the same bottle as each other. You’re well passed that.
“We’re definitely drinking tonight, especially with Eddie’s free pass for us all at Brava.” Robin points out, and she wraps her arm over your shoulders. “I’m tired of being a good girl right now. I feel like I’ve been doing that for at least a month.” Robin moans. “We’re going out to the club, we’re all drinking, and when we get back I am really dancing with you. And maybe if no one’s passed out we can see about Eddie’s thing.”
Steve and Nancy fake groan at Robin’s suggestive nature of how she’d be dancing with you when it would just literally be them in a room together, but Eddie’s too busy fist pumping the air at being right about bringing edibles with him to the party just in case tonight.
“In fact, to not only show off our dazzlingness, but to all be on theme together, Steve and I have got you all matching sparkly outfits!” Robin finally reveals, and Steve laughs as he’s finally not having to hold that detail back anymore.
“Oh my God.”
“Holy shit!”
“You’ve got to be joking.”
You, Eddie, and Nancy all chorus, as Steve goes and brings three bags out from the hallway, you and your two surprised friends gasping and grasping onto each other, shocked but so eager to see what’s in store.
Nancy’s was simple, and had some glittery tights and sparkly jewellery, to go with the outfit Nancy had said she was bringing, as when Robin had called her she’d asked about the fashion code tonight and what everyone was wearing. And Robin already knew what outfit Nancy was bringing, knew what to buy to go along with the set.
Steve head actually been the first one to spot the sleeveless denim jacket, that had the shiny silver spikes on the shoulders. You were trying to tell if some other parts were rhinestones, or just other spikes, or silvery buttony parts, but Eddie was already too busy moving it all about as he admired and inspected it.
To be honest, you knew no matter what, and you thought so did Robin and Steve buying this piece, that Eddie would 100% be down for commitment to the bit, and that he didn’t care about standing out. Especially when not all of you would be standing out ‘shining’.
“And of course,” Robin turned to you, Steve did too. The excited looks on their faces making your heart pump. Your eyes swivelling from them, to Nancy and Eddie who were now fully paying attention to you too, and down to where Robin’s double ringed hand reached down into the bag. “I bought a dress for you.”
Your jaw drops, a smile still on there of course, and Robin’s big blue eyes are delighted up at you. “I also got you shoes as a present. I wanted your outfit all to match.”
Your cheeks are heating with every extra stretch of your wide smile, your hand darting out and gently landing on top of Robin’s wrist in the bag. “Ohhh no, sparkles or sequins are not super my thing.”
Steve was the first one to respond, placing his hand down behind your neck. “Yeah, well, tonight it is.” He just smiles.
Robin shoved whatever was in the bag back down, removing her hand, but when you catch her eyes, her shoulders lift up, and she grins at you very excitedly, lighting up like a kid on chirhsmas.
Robin grabs your hand, and drags you up to Steve’s room with an eager screech. And as you follow suit quickly, so you don’t fall, letting her pull you with her thrilled sounds, as Eddie and Steve bellow laughter from downstairs, you are pulled into Steve’s room, Robin closing the door to show you what she picked out, and let you get dressed.
You fawned and gasped, and ooh’d and ahh’d when Robin spread your dress out on Steve’s bed, already eager for you to try it and make sure it definitely fit.
You were definitely glad she at least got you a style she knew you wore. And as you ran your hands over the lush material, you turned to face your awaiting and encouraged girlfriend, who you didn’t realised had her face just inches from yours, happily anticipating.
Giggling, after your initial tiny flinch, you leaned those three inches in and kissed her lips. Robin allowing herself a small moment of calm, kissing them back sweetly and shortly as she looked to you.
“Thank you sweetheart. It’s really pretty. I’ll definitely wear this more than once. Even if I have to purposely find an occasion to do so.” You smiled, your heart bursting as Robin laughed with glee, so happy you liked it!
You really did! It was sparkly and pretty and the dress was very much in your style, Robin knew exactly what to get you that would match the group, and specifically match her intentionally too, but also was something you’d like, even if you wouldn’t have thought it before. Because Robin knew you, and your clothes, and your style so well by now.
The shoes were actually very comfy too, especially for a first time wearing them. You supposed if after a club night in new shoes the comfort factor went extremely down hill, you had at least three people out of the four who’d be able to carry you home, back to Steve’s. Honestly actually, you wouldn’t put it past Nancy to do so if it was life or death enough either.
You place your hands on Robin’s face, finally in the quiet of an alone room together, and you look deeply at your wonderful love. Robin matching your expression and looking back. Her hands tenderly coming up to rest on your forearms, her head leant into one palm as you kept holding her face. Robin’s eyes trailed to your lips, then back up to your eyes again, but her own were now hooded after a glance there.
You smoothed your thumbs over her cheeks, getting Robin to stop leaning in the second she was about to move another slow centimetre or two, and looking to you as you softly spoke, a loving smirk on your face. “You know, if we’re gonna complete your look, your eyeshadow needs to shine too.”
Robin’s eyes, surrounded by her smooth make up, shone in excitement, and you removed your hands to look in the bag you still have strapped over your shoulder, having been ready for her when Robin came downstairs with a camera in there, although getting caught up in the moment.
You whipped out a massive make up bag, with nearly all the make up you’d collected over the years, having a feeling you’d need it tonight with the hints you were able to pick up from Robin, whether she’d meant to give you all of them or not. Robin clasping her hands together and linking her fingers as she gasped happily down when you opened up the colourful bag.
Throwing it next to the bottle of champagne, courtesy of Steve, that you and Robin would be finishing up soon.
“Okay, get on the bed,” you ordered Robin “I don’t want the floor to ruin your pretty dress.”
To which Robin eagerly agreed, with a small closed mouthed scream. Lying flat down on Steve’s bed, you crawled slowly over her body. Sitting yourself down on top of her lap, your legs either side of hers. Before slowly leaning the top half of your body down. Your chest just about touching, with every little breath or movement around. Your eyes excited and with that cheeky love there that you both used to feel when you’d just be ‘being playful with each other’ when you both had a mutual crush. Flitting them all over Robin’s face, as you watched her eyes shimmer with the exact same look. Pink flushing hard underneath that pretty make up and those gorgeous freckles. Biting down on her bottom lip, a look you really couldn’t tear your eyes away from. As her hands came running up your thighs, to gently secure your hip, to hold you safe while on her.
Resting your hand caressing on Robin’s soft cheek, you can feel her eyelashes brush over your thumb, when she leans into your hand. Just as you apply more sparkly eye make up to her first layer.
Focusing really hard, even if you’re constantly smirking down with such adoration at Robin, as you gently hold her face, while she carefully holds your hips. Brushing your fine make up over her, and taking lots of care into making sure it worked well with what she was wearing, and all was done properly to perfection. Making sure Robin really would shine out tonight.
Knowing your girlfriend will give you the same treatment back at some stage. Whether she’s on top of you and doing your make up with care before, in between, or after you’ve gotten undressed, and changed into her very pretty dress. That Robin got just for you, and for her special night.
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book-place · 2 years ago
Text
Taylor Swift Lyric Prompts
“And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends.”
“Here’s a toast to my real friends.”
“The devils in the details, but you got a friend in me.”
“I had the best day with you today.”
“Oh darlin’, don’t you ever grow up.”
“Sneakin’ out late, tapping on your window.”
“And I wish you knew that I miss you too much to be mad anymore.”
“I wish you knew that, I’ll never forget you as long as I live.”
“Because the last time you saw me is still burned in the back of your mind.”
“I never heard silence quite this loud.”
“You saw me start to believe for the first time.”
“I think about summer, all those beautiful times.”
“I’d give all I have honey, if you could stay like that.”
“I won’t let nobody hurt you.”
“Little does he know, his whole world’s about to change.”
“Maybe, someday, when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about.”
“We’re happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time.”
“Don’t you dream impossible things?”
“And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid.”
“Can we always be this close?”
“I know that I’m a handful.”
“And I would’ve stuck around for ya, would’ve fought the whole town.”
“But if the story’s over, why am I still writing pages?”
“It’s nice to have a friend.”
“At every table, I’ll save you a seat.”
“Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?”
“This is how the world works, you have to leave before you get left.”
“For you, I would cross the line.”
“Nobody’s heard from me for months, I’m doing better than I ever was.”
“Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you.”
“They might be bigger, but we’re faster and never scared.”
“And you might think I’m bulletproof, but I’m not.”
“And you’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town.”
“Don’t you ever change.”
“I didn’t choose this town, I dream of getting out.”
“You’re on your own kid. You always have been.”
“It came like a postcard. Picture perfect shiny family. Holiday peppermint candy.”
“By the way, I’m going out tonight.”
“You’re in the kitchen humming.”
“Did you see the photos?”
“You know there’s many different ways that you can kill the one you love. The slowest way is never loving them enough.”
“Do you really wanna know where I was April 29th?”
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ilovemilestellersmoustache · 1 month ago
Text
Say my Name and Everything Just Stops
Bob Reynolds x Thunderbolts!reader
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Summary: If Bob and you were only platonic, absolutely no other feelings
 Then why do you feel sick to your stomach when he looks at her like that?
WC: 3.K
*Might have to remake this with more specifics to the song because I added the song after writing it because it lowkey fit the storyline a bit*
âž»
You weren’t sure when it happened.
One day, you were just another warm body at a mission briefing, nodding through tactical discussions, biting your tongue through Alexei’s grating pep talks and Valentia’s obligatory press training. You showed up, suited up, cleaned up, and tried not to get killed. That was the job. That was the team.
Then, somehow, somewhere along the line
 you and Bob Reynolds got attached at the hip.
Not officially. Not romantically. Not even consciously, really. You didn’t talk about it. There were no glances across the room filled with meaning, no loaded conversations behind closed doors. It was never dramatic.
It was something quieter. Subtler. Like gravity.
If you were in the kitchen making coffee in the morning, hair tied back, hoodie halfway off your shoulder, still trying to blink the sleep from your eyes, Bob was always there, standing beside you like he’d been summoned. Making tea. Or at least pretending to. Half the time his mug stayed empty, forgotten on the counter while he hovered behind you, offering sugar before you even asked, or opening the fridge before you could.
He wasn’t loud. He wasn’t even particularly expressive. But he was there. His presence made the sterile, metal and glass Tower kitchen feel less like a military bunker and more like home. It was in the little things. The way he shifted when you reached past him. The way he knew how you liked your coffee and made sure no one else drank from your favorite mug. The way he stood just close enough that you could feel his heat at your back.
Game nights made it worse.
Or better, depending on who you asked.
Every week, like clockwork, someone would suggest it usually Alexei or Yelena, high on boredom and low on impulse control. Uno, Jenga, some Russian board game that none of you understood but that Alexei insisted was “better than Monopoly.”
No matter the game, no matter the teams, somehow you and Bob always ended up on the same side. It wasn’t on purpose. No one assigned you to him. It just
 happened. You’d be sitting on opposite couches, and by the time the game began, you’d be side by side. Synced up. Aligned.
Charades became a blood sport. You and Bob didn’t even need words. One raised eyebrow from you, and he was guessing the entire plot of The Matrix. He mimed a single motion, and you blurted out Jaws before anyone else even understood it was a movie.
“I don’t even know how they’re communicating,” John muttered one night, tossing a card at Bucky. “They didn’t say a word. Are they cheating? They’re probably cheating.”
“Y/N and Bob have their own frequency,” Ava mumbled from the corner, arms folded but the ghost of a smile tugging at her mouth.
Then came the promo events.
Photoshoots. Talk shows. Those absurd staged press moments where Valentina shoved you all into matching black tactical gear and called it “branding.”
You and Bob migrated toward each other like it was coded into your DNA. Unconscious. Effortless.
Cameras flashed and you were already beside him your shoulder brushing his arm, his hand resting just near the small of your back, not touching, but almost. Always almost. And somehow, no matter how stiff or awkward he looked beside the rest of the team, when he stood next to you, Bob’s shoulders loosened just enough. His eyes softened. His lips curved, barely.
Protective. Steady. Yours.
That’s how it felt.
And still, you told yourself it wasn’t anything.
Just comfort. Just familiarity.
But at night when the compound dimmed, and the war room was dark, and the wind whispered against the windows you started to hear it.
The softest knock. A pause. Then the door creaking open.
He never needed to ask.
He stepped inside like he didn’t want to make a sound, curls still damp from a rushed shower, wearing the same old hoodie that hung loose on his tall frame. Sometimes he’d say your name like a question. Most nights, he just climbed into your bed with a sigh so deep it curled in your chest.
He never reached for you. Not at first.
He just drifted closer, closer until his forehead was resting on your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin, his body folding around you like ivy.
And you’d always find your fingers in his hair. Threading, soothing, grounding. Like they were meant to be there. Like you’d done it a thousand times.
He always fell asleep that way. The Sentry. The most powerful being on Earth. Curled up around you, clinging to the quiet, tucked in by your heartbeat.
And you thought you were subtle. You thought it was private.
You thought no one knew.
Until the night John Walker walked in.
You’d been half asleep, humming something soft while combing your fingers through Bob’s tangled curls. He was a deadweight against you, long limbs twisted around yours, chest rising in the steady rhythm of someone deep, deep asleep.
The door slammed open.
“Y/N! You gotta see the new tech—I finished the—”
He froze.
You cracked an eye open.
Bob didn’t even stir.
And John
 just stood there, blinking. Processing. His mouth opened and closed twice before he backed out like he’d walked in on a hostage negotiation.
“
I’ll come back later,” he muttered, nearly tripping over your laundry basket on the way out.
That was the end of the secret.
The next morning at breakfast, the teasing came with knives.
Yelena leaned across the table with a smug little grin. “So
 Bob. Y/N. How long has the co-sleeping initiative been active?”
You choked on your coffee. Nearly died.
Bob flushed so red his ears matched his hoodie.
Ava didn’t even try to hide her smirk. “Please. We’ve all seen it. They’re like cats. Always draped over each other. It’s gross. It’s adorable. I hate it.”
“Just don’t bring it on the jet,” John muttered into his eggs. “Some of us like to fly without PDA-induced nausea.”
You didn’t answer. Neither did Bob.
You didn’t have to.
It wasn’t like that, you told yourself.
It was just Bob. It was just you.
But when your eyes met across the kitchen when his hand brushed yours reaching for the honey, and his fingertips lingered just a little longer than necessary, you wondered if maybe it wasn’t just anything.
Maybe it was everything.
And you’d just been too scared to name it.
âž»
Until the charity gala.
You’d pulled out all the stops.
The gown was custom silk that hugged every curve like it was made for you (because it was), with a low, sloping back that shimmered under the chandelier light like molten metal. The color was blood-red, deliberate. You wore it with graceful confidence . Your hair was swept into soft waves that kissed your collarbones. And your eyes, lined lit with something vulnerable and electric, scanned the ballroom for one person.
Bob Reynolds.
He arrived late.
Tugging awkwardly at the cuffs of a tailored suit that fit too well for how uncomfortable he looked in it. Hair combed, clean shaven, tall as hell and radiating nervous energy. You turned the moment he walked in.
He stopped in the doorway when he saw you.
And for the briefest second, everything else in the glittering, champagne soaked ballroom dimmed. His eyes locked on yours across the crowd and something passed between you. Something that hit you low in the chest, unspoken and sharp. You almost smiled.
But then he looked away.
Fast. Like it burned. And he didn’t approach. Not even close. In fact, every time you started to drift toward his side of the room, champagne in hand, casual and hopeful he moved. Ducking away under the guise of conversation or needing air. It was obvious. Painfully so. He was avoiding you.
By the time everyone was seated and smiling for cameras at the table, your chest ached from it.
Had you misunderstood everything?
The closeness, the late nights, the way he always reached for you without thinking, was that just friendship? Just comfort? Had you embarrassed yourself in front of the whole team?
And then came the woman.
An older socialite, jeweled and charming, grabbed Bob by the elbow with a too-knowing smile. She gestured to a girl in satin blue, pretty, long-limbed, her laugh high and flirtatious. Bob looked panicked for a split second. Then he smiled. Small. Polite. He let the woman lead him away.
From across the ballroom, you watched.
The girl touched his arm. He leaned in to hear her. Laughed at something she said. All the alcohol he downed making his eye contact extremely well, didn’t matter that he looked a little stiff. A little out of place. From where you were standing, it looked like he could love her.
And it broke you.
You didn’t say goodbye. Just slipped your clutch under your arm and moved. Valentina caught your elbow at the door.
“Where are you going? You haven’t even spoken to—”
“I don’t feel well,” you said, voice brittle.
“Y/N—”
But you were already gone.
âž»
The Tower was silent when you returned.
You didn’t turn on the lights. Didn’t go to your room. Just stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the roof like muscle memory.
The city stretched below you in a haze of gold and glass. Cold wind bit at your shoulders through the fabric of your dress, but you didn’t care. You needed the air. The silence. The distance from the noise in your head.
Why had he avoided you? Did you look bad? Did he regret all those nights he spent in your bed not with you, but beside you? Holding onto you like you were his only anchor?
You blinked hard against the tears stinging your lashes.
Don’t cry. Don’t be stupid. You’re not sixteen.
The door creaked behind you.
You didn’t move. But your heart knew.
Bob.
He stepped out slow, breath ragged, suit jacket flapping slightly in the wind. His tie was crooked. His hair was messy. He looked like he’d been running.
“You left,” he said quietly, almost breathless.
“I did,” you murmured, arms crossed against the chill.
“I couldn’t find you.”
“I saw you,” you replied, voice sharper than you meant. “You were busy.”
A pause.
“Y/N
” His voice cracked. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”
“I’m not stupid,” you snapped. “She was gorgeous. Polished. Exactly the kind of girl a mother would want for her son-in-law.”
He flinched. “That’s not what I want.”
“No?” You turned now, eyes shining in the low rooftop light. “Because you looked like you were having a great time. Like you were relieved not to be around me.”
“I was avoiding you.”
That stopped you cold.
“I know.”
Bob took a step closer, then another. “You walked into that room and I forgot how to breathe. You were
 radiant. Like something out of a dream I wasn’t supposed to be having. And all I could think was, Don’t ruin this. Don’t touch her. Don’t make it weird. So I panicked.”
You stared, wind whipping your hair around your face.
“You avoided me because I looked nice?”
“I avoided you,” he said, stepping right into your space, “because if I didn’t, I was going to tell you I loved you. In front of Valentina. And three senators. And six photographers.”
Your lips parted, but no sound came out.
He laughed, but it was soft. Raw.
“You don’t know what you do to me, Y/N. I can’t think straight when you’re near me. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep unless I’m next to you. You touch me just, like, hand on my arm or fingers in my hair and the world goes quiet. You make me feel like I’m not broken.”
“Bob
” you whispered, tears threatening again.
He took your hands gently. “I don’t know when it happened. I just know I’m in love with you. And if I messed this up tonight
 I’m sorry. But I had to tell you.”
You let out a laugh. Choked and wet and unbelieving.
“You idiot,” you said, pressing your forehead to his. “You beautiful, stupid, sweet idiot. I’ve been in love with you since the first time you handed me coffee without asking how I take it.”
His breath hitched. “You have?”
“Obviously.”
The kiss came easy.
Soft, like first light. Like every moment between you had been leading to this, every brush of hands, every shared blanket, every look across the table when no one else was watching. He cupped your face like it was sacred. You buried your hands in his curls like they belonged there. Because they did.
The city sparkled below. And in the quiet, with the wind, and the stars above, the noise finally stopped.
âž»
You woke up in his arms the next morning. Again.
Only this time, your lipstick was smudged on his jaw. His tie was still on your bedroom floor. And when Bucky walked in to grab the TV remote, he paused at the sight of you two curled up, a sleepy smile tugging at his mouth.
“About damn time,” he muttered, shutting the door again.
Neither of you moved.
You were too busy holding onto everything you’d been scared to lose.
—
A/N: PLEASE I NEED MORE IDEAS OR LIKE SONGS TO WRITE THINGS BASED OFF 💔
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miyamoratsumuu · 10 months ago
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IN A WORLD OF BOYS...
↳ ...they're gentlemen. wherein you don't need to be royal blood for your best boys to treat you like a princess platonic!bksquad boys (k. bakugou, e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero) x fem!reader notes/warnings: swearing/language, the boys call reader nicknames (babes, babe, darling, sweetheart, etc.) from time to time
navigation . . . mha masterlist
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a/n: aka my fav taylor swift song with my fav boys!! sort of a 1k special? I'm still debating on the event ahaha anyway, I'll be answering asks tomorrow!! classes are suspended so I have all the time in the world tomorrow hihi<3
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kissingchamber · 8 months ago
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illicit affairs
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𝜗𝜚 synopsis: Tony finds out his son is dating his intern. His intern!
𝜗𝜚 pairing(s): MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!male reader; Tony Stark x son!reader
𝜗𝜚 warning(s): nothing really this is just silly fluff and Tony being clueless
𝜗𝜚 note(s): English is not my first language!!! Based on this request, hope u enjoy anon :3 title from taylor swifts "illicit affairs" !!
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Everyone in the Avengers tower knows you and Peter are dating! Well, almost everyone in the Avengers tower knows you and Peter are dating. The only one who hasn't yet figured it out is the one and only, Tony Stark, your dad.
Honestly, it's a surprise he hasn't found out yet with the way you and Peter have been looking at each other with longing heart eyes and cuddling during movie nights. And he calls himself a genius...
It's sort of become a game for you and Peter, seeing how long it'll take for Tony to realize what's really going on.
What makes it even more unbelievable is that Pepper was the first one to know!
─────────────── ⋆ ───────────────
You make your way down to the lab where you knew Peter would be— he'd texted, telling you he would be down in the labs today— working on something for his suit with Tony.
You slide into the lab, finding Peter sat in a chair, eagerly chatting with your dad and typing something on a tablet at the same time.
You come up behind him, wrapping your arms around him, hugging him to your chest and burying your face into his hair. "Hi, Pete." You murmur.
"H— hey!" Peter's face flushes a pretty pink color and you can't help but smirk. He's so easily flustered.
You almost forget Tony is there until he starts talking. "Oh, hey kid! Care to help us a little? We could really use an extra set of hands." He says, acting like the way you're holding Peter is totally platonic.
You nod, mumbling a sure, but not before sending Peter a look. He cannot be serious... He shoots back an agreeing gaze.
─────────────── ⋆ ───────────────
It's movie night, most of the Avengers are scattered across the room, sitting in all kinds of weird positions that make you want to laugh. You and Peter are laying on one of the couches, practically entangled together.
Everyone is arguing about which movie to watch when Tony walks in with Steve trailing behind him, their arms filled with snacks.
Steve looks at you and Peter, mumbling something about lovebirds and takes a seat on one of the recliners.
Tony settles on a loveseat next to Pepper and joins in on the movie debate.
You and Peter share a look, Tony definitely heard what Cap said, right?
─────────────── ⋆ ───────────────
You walk into the kitchen where Peter is sitting on a barstool, leaning onto the island and nodding along to whatever Tony— who is currently refilling his coffee cup— is saying.
You press a kiss to Peter's cheek in greeting, sitting down on another barstool. He gives you a soft smile in response and grabs ahold of your hand.
Tony finishes getting his coffee, ruffles your hair and leaves the room wordlessly, like you hadn't just kissed your boyfriend— that he doesn't know is your boyfriend— right in front of him!
You and Peter stare at each other for a silent second before bursting into laughter. Tony is so clueless it's hilarious.
─────────────── ⋆ ───────────────
When Tony finally does find out it's possibly in the most embarrassing way ever.
You and Peter were in your room, making out on your bed, when Tony walked in.
"Dad—!" You yell and scramble to get off of Peter, whose face is currently the shade of bright red reminiscent of a tomato.
"Sorry, sorry!" Tony says quickly, at least he sounds apologetic.
You glare at him with no real heat in your expression. "You could've, you know, knocked before you came in. Like you're supposed to." You grumble.
"I know, I know. But uhm... since when were you two a thing?" He asks, almost sounding hesitant.
Peter looks like he's trying his hardest not to laugh, barely succeeding. "Everyone else figured it out months ago, if that gives you any idea."
"What—" Tony begins but you interrupt him; "And Pepper was the first one to find out"
"And she didn't tell me!?" He sounds so betrayed, it's so funny you can barely respond. "Apparently not!" You get out before bursting into giggles, Peter laughing beside you.
Tony turns on his heel and rushes into the hallway "Pepper!" He cries out.
At this, you and Peter can't hold it in anymore, erupting into the kind of laughter that makes your tummy hurt and leaves your sides sore afterwards.
And he calls himself a genius.
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𝜗𝜚 note: this is longer that anything ive posted previously so thats why this took me so long to post đ–Šč ÂŽ ᯅ ` đ–Šč thanks 4 reading!!! reblogs r super appreciated!! :3
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withwritersblock · 6 months ago
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You are in Love
~You are in Love by Taylor Swift~
Author's Note: requested! sorry for blue balling you all! But I couldn't figure out how to really finish this, if that makes sense? Summary: Y/N needed a plus one to her friend's wedding. She invites her best friend Warnings: brief mention of former verbal relationship abuse, implied smut Word count: 15,031 Luke Hughes x fm!reader
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They were neighbors first. She knew Jack for a long time. Their interactions never passed a polite conversation and a small smile and wave. The conversations never lasted long enough to even get to know one another. 
That ended when Luke moved in. He was a talker. Jack was always trying to end the conversation so they could leave but Luke and Y/N could talk forever. It was easy and never forced neighborly chat. 
Jack swore it was because Luke was attractive to her. But their conversations were very platonic. But that was because her boyfriend marked his territory from the first time Y/N and Luke met. Jack didn’t even know another person lived in Y/N’s apartment. 
But the second his little brother arrived, her boyfriend felt it was important to make his presence known.
It was only a month into Luke’s rookie season when he offered to have Y/N and her boyfriend come to one of their games. Without hesitation, they agreed to go. After that, the four of them became “friends”. Luke, Jack, Y/N, and Jonathan. 
They would travel to bars together and they would hang out at each other’s apartments. It was safe to say that they were all becoming close. But Jonathan definitely did not like Luke. He was fine with hanging out with him but he thought Luke was attracted to Y/N. Who wouldn’t be, she was the definition of stunning.
Jonathan and Y/N had been together since she was a junior in high school. It had been almost four years of them being together. But it was obvious that their relationship was not perfect or good. They would put on a front to show that they were happy. 
Luke was definitely attracted to her but when they first met he had no intention of romance. His intentions went strictly platonic. His intentions got even more platonic after he found out she was in a long term relationship. He’s not the type of guy to hit on another guy’s girlfriend. Any passing thought he had disappeared.  
Tonight was the last hang out before Jack flew to get his shoulder surgery. They were all hanging out at the Hughes’ apartment. They were sprailed out in the living room, drinking some beers as they watched Quinn’s game on the screen. 
Luke delicately rested his hand onto Y/N’s arm as he stood up from the couch. She smiled softly towards Luke. “Do you guys want anything else?” he asked as he walked towards the kitchen. Jonathan fought back spits of anger as he tilted his head back to stare towards the ceiling. 
“Nah, we’re good,” Jonathan offered. 
“Actually I was hoping–”
“We’re good,” he interrupted her, his face was practically bright red from anger. Y/N pulled her head back as she met Jonathan’s gaze. “We’re good, we don’t need anything else,” he said through gritted teeth.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked softly before clenching her jaw. He huffed as he rolled his eyes. 
“What’s wrong with me?! What’s wrong with you?!” he shouted. 
“Dude,” Jack mumbled. 
Jonathan stood up from the floor. His back was pressed against the couch as he pointed towards the front door. He quickly began to walk out of the apartment, the beer still in his hands. 
Y/N took a deep breath as she tilted her head back. Shutting her eyes for a moment while she contemplated on following him. She would probably get screamed at if she didn’t follow within the next five seconds.
Jack pursed his lips forward as he awkwardly looked down towards his lap. “Are you okay?” he asked Y/N as he watched her reluctantly stand up from the couch. 
“Nope,” she let out as she walked towards Luke, handing him her half dranken beer. 
“Y/N, hey,” he said softly as he awkwardly took a hold of the drink.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” she expressed as she walked fast out of the apartment towards her own apartment. 
Jack tilted his head back as he looked towards Luke who was still staring towards the door she left from. “What did you do?” Jack asked as he saw Luke awkwardly place her beer onto the counter. 
“I–I don’t know,” Luke stuttered as he pulled out another beer for himself and for Jack. As Luke walked back towards the couch, their was loud muffled voices coming from her apartment. It was hard to make out the words being said but it was definitely Jonathan yelling towards her. Luke’s eyes widened as he felt his heart start racing.
“Should we go over there?” Jack asked softly as Jonathan’s voice got louder and clearer.
“I’m tired of seeing you throw yourself at every fucking guy on the planet!” Jonathan shouted so loud they could hear it through the wall. 
“I–I don’t know,” Luke mumbled as he swallowed hard. 
It took another ten seconds before they both stood up from the couch, placing their beers onto the coffee table. Luke led the charge towards the door, pulling the door open. His body ran hot. He was seeing red. How could anyone talk to a girl like that? Let alone someone they called their friend. 
“Do we just walk inside?” Luke let out softly. 
“You’re the one that’s acting all macho man!” Jack said as he nervously chewed on his bottom lip. They stepped into the hallway the same time Jonathan pulled her apartment door open. 
“I’m fucking done! We’re done! I’ll get my shit tomorrow! I’m staying with Veronica!” he shouted smugly as he slammed the door shut. He smirked once he saw Jack and Luke. “She’s all yours boys, have at her! I’ve got a much hotter–” Jonathan began before he met Luke’s gaze, “Much hotter woman who isn’t a massive–”
“Fucking finish that sentence and I’ll break your arm,” Luke let out simply as he crossed his arms over his chest. Jonathan’s mouth clammered shut before he shoved passed Luke and Jack, storming down the hallway. 
Jack and Luke instantly walked up towards the door. Carefully pushing the door open. She was sitting on the couch, her face in her hands. 
She didn’t lift her head as another sob fell from her lips. Both of them sat on either side of her, wrapping their arms around her shoulder as they held onto her tightly as she sobbed. Luke glided his hand along her upper back as Jack kept his hand on the center of her back. 
They shared glanced as they both took deep breaths. She was still sobbing. Not caring that she’s technically only known them from less than a year and how embarrassing this probably was. But she didn’t care. She took the comfort, she needed the comfort.
Nine months later
She was sitting on her bed, staring towards the light blue floral maxi dress hanging from her closet door. It was form fitting, a dress that Jonathan wouldn’t have let her wear. Because God forbid another man found her attractive. But she was wearing it tomorrow. 
Tomorrow she had a wedding to attend where she had checked plus one on her reservation card. The reservation card was sent out six months ago. Out of habit she would check the box. She didn’t think she would have a date for the wedding after everything that happened with Jonathan. 
She forgot that she said that she would bring a plus one until the bride, her freshman roommate, Anna, gave her a call and briefly mentioned it. Now she has to have a date to the wedding for tomorrow. 
Standing up, she took a hold of the fabric of the dress, letting it cascade against her hands as she smiled softly. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she quickly pulled it out to see a text from Luke.
–Luke: let me in pleaseeee
A soft chuckle fell from her lips as she left her bedroom. Y/N took fast steps towards the front door as she pulled it open. “Hey,” she said as she allowed him to step inside of her apartment. 
“Thank god you’re home,” he mumbled as he happily plopped down onto her couch, he took up the whole thing. “Jack’s been gone for like a day and I’m bored out of my mind,” Luke explained as he ran his hand over his eyes. She chuckled softly as she shoved his feet off of the couch. He sat up slightly as she sat down beside him. 
“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” she asked shyly as she twisted the rings on her fingers in a different cadence. He pursed his lips forward as he tilted his head to the side to meet her eye. His cheeks flushed slightly. 
“Nope,” he said as his gaze fluttered all over her features. She nodded as she chewed on her bottom lip nervously. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“Do you remember me telling you about my old roommate Anna?” she questioned. He hummed as a reply as he awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair. “Apparently, I’m supposed to bring someone to her wedding. I checked plus one without actually having anyone so now I need a date to this wedding,” she explained in what felt like one quick breath.
Luke nodded slowly, “What suit should I wear?” he asked softly. Her eyes widened slightly as the corner of her lips curled upward. 
“Wait really?”
“I don’t have anything better to do,” he let out somewhat teasingly. Her soft smile widened as she giggled excitedly. She tapped her fingertips against his shoulder several times, joy pouring out of her frame. 
“Okay this is going to be so fun!” she said as she leaned away. “I might’ve forgotten a little detail,” she mumbled as she shyly looked down towards her lap. 
“What’s up, Y/N?” he asked while laughing.
“The wedding is in Connecticut,” she said while awkwardly twisting her rings on her hands again. 
“Doesn’t Anna live in Jersey?” he let out while laughing.
“I don’t understand it either but if we leave today, she has a hotel room that we can stay in,” she explained as she had a hopeful grin on her lips. He tilted his head back against the couch as he rolled his eyes playfully. 
He took a deep breath, “Let me guess you want me to drive?” he let out as he pursed his lips forward. 
“I can drive,” she said as she looked into his light eyes. Her cheeks suddenly heated up as she watched his gaze dip towards her lips for a second before lifting back up to meet her eye.
“I hate your driving,” he mumbled as he stood up from the couch. She scanned his frame for a moment before he held out his hand towards her. “Let me see your dress so we can try and match,” 
Looking up towards him, she fought a grin forming to her lips as she happily took a hold of his hand as he helped her up from the couch. Luke started walking towards her bedroom, still holding onto her hand as he guided her towards her room. Her eyes landed onto their hands, it felt as though electricity was coursing through her veins. 
After a few seconds, Luke pulled his hand away from hers to push open her bedroom door. Y/N awkwardly crossed her arms over her chest as she rested her hand against her own cheek. It was instant heat radiating from her skin. 
Luke was not a guy that put too much thought into the idea of physical touch. Holding hands for a few seconds didn’t mean anything to him. There was no other intentions, he swore. Luke walked towards the closet looking towards the light blue maxi dress and his eyes widened slightly.
He glanced towards her, his lips curled upward slightly. “That’ll look pretty on you,” he mumbled as he looked back towards the dress.
Compliments fell from his lips so easily that they didn’t have any hidden meaning. He was a gentleman afterall, compliments were him being nice. Not being interested in her. She knew that. She knew that. He was just nice, that’s all.
“Thank you,” she mumbled before taking in a much needed breath. “Do you have anything that can work with that?” 
He pressed his lips together as he tilted his head back thinking. He nodded as he met her eye. “I’ve got some options,” he mumbled. He pulled his phone from his pocket as he quickly took a photo of her dress. She furrowed her eyebrows as she smiled softly. “I gotta know if it matches,” he said nonchalantly as he ushered her to walk out of her bedroom.
“I’m going to finish packing while you do that,” she said as she stepped aside. 
“Okay, what time are we leaving?” he asked as he poked his head back into her room. His eyes scanned her frame subconsciously.
“Whenever we’re ready,” she mumbled as she still kept her arms shyly crossed over her chest. 
“Okay!” he called out as he walked down the small hallway towards the front door. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully as she took the dress and placed it into the suitcase very delicately. She was planning on bringing a steamer anyway, but she wanted to make sure it was perfect. 
Obviously, it didn’t need to be perfect. It’s not like she has anyone to impress, or leave speechless. 
An hour passed and Luke reentered her apartment, unannounced this time. He had rolled his suitcase next to her kitchen countertop as he leaned against it. His phone was vibrating in his pocket. Quickly, he pulled it out to see Jack was calling him. 
He brought the phone towards his ear, “Hey,” he let out softly. 
“How’s your break going?” Jack asked sarcastically. Luke chuckled while rolling his eyes.
“I’m actually getting ready to drive to Hartford,” Luke let out as he watched Y/N walk out of the hallway rolling her suitcase behind her. She smiled towards him as she switched her gaze towards her own phone in her hand. Luke continued to watch her, admire her frame.
“Connecticut?” Jack asked while laughing. 
“Yeah, Y/N needed a plus one for her old roommate’s wedding,” Luke explained. At the mention of her name, she lifted her gaze meeting Luke’s gaze. He smirked before he dropped his gaze towards the floor.
“Can’t wait to hear how that goes,” Jack said sarcastically. 
“Sharing a hotel room, huh?” Quinn chimed in.
“That sounds like it’ll be a good weekend,” Jack expressed teasingly. 
“I mean it’s been a long time coming, right?” Quinn shot back.
“Oh yeah, weddings have a lot of romance in the air,” Jack let out through laughter.
“Alright!” he said while laughing, “Goodbye, good luck tomorrow,” Luke forced out as he hung up the phone, silencing the eruption of laughter from his brothers. Luke shoved his phone back into his pocket as he looked towards Y/N. “Ready?” he asked softly as he awkwardly chewed on his bottom lip.
“I think so,” she expressed as she shoved her own phone back into her pocket. “Did you pick a suit?” she asked as she took a hold of her suitcase and began walking towards him. He nodded as he fought off a grin as he looke deeply into her eyes.
“I might’ve packed three of them,” he muttered as his cheeks pinked up. A soft chuckle fell from her lips as she walked up towards him.
“Of course you did,” she mumbled as she walked towards him. He scanned her features as he swallowed hard. “We’re going to have to get gas before we get going,” she offered. 
Nodding slowly, “No we don’t, I’ve got a full tank,” he offered as he pulled his keys from his pocket, dangling them in front of her face. 
Tilting her head to the side, she pursed her lips forward fighting a grin. She rolled her eyes playfully as she began walking towards the door. “Come on, Lukey,” she let out teasingly as she walked towards the door. He chuckled dryly as he followed after her, taking a hold of his own suitcase.
~~~
They only had thirty minutes left of their drive and it was safe to say this was her favorite road trip yet. Luke was an amazing driver, so she didn’t have an ounce of anxiety with him behind the wheel. She couldn’t say anything like that about Jonathan.
She was in control of the music. Luke didn’t mind because they had pretty similar music taste. She would sing along softly to the songs but if Luke was confident, and not so confident, in the lyrics he would sing loudly. He mostly did it to hear her giggle. Her giggle was everything to him. 
Rihanna was playing loudly in the car and Luke was trying to sing the lyrics, pretending to know what he was singing along to. She was laughing as she was singing along. He held his hand towards her and she happily dropped some pretzels into his hand. He tossed them into his mouth as he continued to dance slightly.
Through laughter, “You are an awful singer,” she mumbled out. He glanced towards her, smirking through a mouth full. He tilted his head back slightly against the head rest. “Like so bad,” she said while covering her mouth. 
“Well play something I know!” he said while laughing.
“Fine, fine!” she let out, “You listen to depressing country music, so if you want to kill the mood. Then I’ll play something you know,” she teased. He smirked as he nodded, urging her to change the song. “Depressing country music it is,” 
After a few seconds the song switched to Love You Anyway by Luke Combs. Luke smiled widely as he glanced towards her before he switched lanes. He held his hand towards his mouth mimicking a microphone. 
“If your kiss turned me to stone, I’d be a statue standing tall in Ancient Rome. And if your touch shattered me like glass–” he sang with a country twang in his voice. She giggled as she watched him sing as he bobbed his head back and forth to the slow beat. 
He was adorable as he continued to stare ahead, singing along to the song. He was right he did sound somewhat better. 
“There’s just some things that leave a man no choice. Like a compass needle needing it’s true north. Even if I knew the day we met you’d be the reason this heart breaks. Oh I’d love you anyway,” 
She fought the grin and the soft laughter falling from her lips. He was fully invested in a dramatic performance.  It was probably the cutest thing he’s ever done. 
He finished singing, looking towards her for some sort of approval. “Definitely better,” she said as she clapped her hands together. 
“Thank you, thank you,” he let out grinning as he pulled off on the exit. “Alright, I need a performance now,” he offered as he glanced towards her as they were waiting at a red light. 
“I don’t do solo performances,” she teased.
“Come on!” he begged as he tapped his steering wheel. “Please! I just sang my heart out,” he whined as he pouted his lips. Rolling her eyes playfully, she took a deep breath as she began to search for a song of her own. “Yes!” he cheered as he bit his bottom lip with a grin on his lips.
She pressed play on Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield. She began to dance slightly as she brought her hand towards her mouth as she started singing, “I am unwritten. Can’t read my mind, I’m undefined. I’m just beginning, the pen’s in my hand,” she sang not too seriously. 
Luke was bobbing his head along as he watched her, he glanced in front of him as the light switched to grin. “Staring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window. Let the sun illuminate the words that you cannot find. Reaching for something in the distance, so close you can almost taste it. Release your inhibitions, feel the rain on your skin–” she continued to sing.
Luke was tapping along on the steering wheel as he was lip syncing. She was pretending to sing badly but even without trying she sounded beautiful. She was an amazing singer, something she always hid. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. Soon she put her hand in front of his mouth mimicking a microphone. He pouted before he sang the chorus loudly with her.
After another fifteen minutes, they finally arrived at the hotel. It was a short cab ride from the wedding venue. Anna’s family rented out the hotel so that all of their guests could have a room to stay in. Luke parked pretty far from the entrance since all of the guests were practically already there. 
She led the charge with her suitcase behind her. She was practically skipping towards the entrance. He rolled his eyes playfully as he followed after her. 
They walked into the lobby, she walked straight up towards the desk. Luke trailed behind her, glancing towards an entire lobby of people he had no idea who they were.
“Are you here for the wedding this weekend?” the desk attendant asked with a forced smile. Y/N nodded encouragingly. “Okay, name?” 
“Y/N Y/L/N,” she let out she glanced towards Luke as he walked up beside her, his shoulder brushed against hers.
“Perfect,” the desk attendant said as he crossed off her name on the paper in front of him. He spun around pulling the key cards from a collection. “Rooms are already assigned, here’s your keys,” he said happily as he handed the key cards towards Y/N and then Luke.
“Thank you so much,” Y/N mumbled as she glanced down to the card that said their room was 805. She switched her gaze towards Luke. “Ready?” she asked softly. He nodded as his eyes flickered all over her features. Her lips curled upward before she began to walk towards the elevator. Luke was following after her like a lost puppy.
She pressed the button for the elevator, “This is going to be so fun,” she said as she was practically exploding with excitement. 
“You really like weddings huh,” he let out as he continued look over her features. 
“I really do,” she let out happily as the elevators door opened. “Come on,” she mumbled as she walked into the elevator. Luke chuckled as he followed her inside. She pressed eight as she stepped back as the doors shut. 
His eyes were still admiring her features. He stared towards her lips, admiring the gloss and the soft smile on her lips. 
After a few seconds, she shifted her gaze to meet his eye. She watched his gaze flicker up towards her eyes. Their eyes remained connected without saying anything. Her eyes squinting slightly while her breathing was starting to quicken. Her lips parted as she was going to say something but the elevator dinged as the doors opened. 
At the same time their eyes shifted towards the brightly lit hotel hallway. Swallowing harshly they both began to walk into the hallway. He clenched his fist as he pressed his lips together as he followed her towards their room. She bit her bottom lip as she kept her gaze onto the floor.
She stopped in front of the room, staring at the 805 on the door. She dipped her card into the card reader, unlocking the door. She pushed it open as Luke rested his hand onto the center of the door holding it open for her. She smiled softly as she walked inside. Her eyes landed on the king size bed. One bed. 
A dry chuckle fell from her lips. Luke walked up behind her, placing his suitcase beside the wall. She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip as she stared towards the bed with a card on it.
Letting go of her suitcase, she reached towards the card. “Y/N and guest. Enjoy,” she read aloud fighting laughter climbing into her throat. “There’s a heart,” she said while chuckling holding it behind her showing it to Luke. 
He cleared his throat as he took the card from her hand. Staring towards the perfect cursive handwriting. “I can go see if there’s a different room available,” he mumbled as he kept staring at her name. 
“We can make it work,” she mumbled as she spun around meeting his gaze, “As long as you keep your hands to yourself,” she let out teasingly. He rolled his eyes as a sudden laugh fell from his lips. 
“Right back atcha,” he teased as he stepped around her, flopping down at the center of the bed. “What time is the ceremony tomorrow?” he asked as he adjusted the pillow beneath his head. 
“We have to be there by four,” she expressed as she rolled her suitcase beside Luke’s. She stood at the end of the bed staring towards him. 
“What?” he asked softly. She shook her head as she sat down on the edge of the bed, kicking off her shoes in the process. “How rich is Anna exactly? This place is nice,” he asked as he continued to look around the small hotel room. 
“Her family owns like Haribo or something like that,” she explained as she stood up from the couch, pulling her suitcase towards the bed. She quickly rested it beside Luke. 
“Actually?” he asked as he watched her unzip her suitcase. She flipped it open and instantly pulled out the dress. It cascaded down as she held it out in front of her. Luke’s gaze landed on the dress, picturing it on her gorgeous frame. 
“I’m not sure, I just know they own something,” she said while laughing. He smirked as she walked towards the bathroom door, hanging it from the top of the door. After a few seconds he stood up walking towards his own suitcase to try and decide what suit would be for the best. 
“Is there a specific color I should avoid?” he asked as he slammed his own suitcase onto the bed. 
“I would definitely say white–” she let out teasingly.
“No I mea–” he trailed while rolling his eyes playfully. “I’ve got a suit that would be perfect but it’s a cream or off white or whatever it’s called. But I don’t know if that would be weird,” he questioned. “I’ve worn it to other weddings but I don’t really know Anna and I don’t know if she would be mad.” 
She nodded as she watched him pull out the cream suit jacket, it was one of her favorites. Her lips curled upward just as there was a knock on their door. Her eyebrows fell into a harsh furrow as she walked towards the door. She looked through the tiny peephole to see Anna standing outside the door. 
Y/N smiled widely before she pulled the door open. “You made it!” Anna cheered excitedly, instantly wrapping her arms around Y/N. Loud giggles fell from her lips. 
Luke rounded the corner to see what was going on. Anna met Luke’s gaze while still hugging Y/N. “Oh my god,” she whispered as she pulled away. “He’s so much hotter than Jonny,” she said, “So much hotter,” she fanned herself.
Y/N eyes widened as she awkwardly chuckled. She pointed towards Luke as he laughed nervously too. “We’re not–he’s not–we’re just friends,” she explained while nervously crossing her arms over her chest. 
“I’m Luke,” he held out his hand towards Anna. She happily shook it. Anna’s eyes widened as she stared towards the one bed.
“Oh my god! I didn’t think–I just assumed. There’s no other rooms available. I’m sorry!” she said panickedly as she pointed towards the bed. 
“Oh that’s amazing suit jacket, that’ll be a great color on you,” she expressed genuinely before she looked towards Y/N.
“It’s okay, Anna. We don’t mind, it’s cool,” Y/N offered as she delicately rested her hand onto Anna’s shoulder. Anna stared towards her while taking in a deep breath. “We promise,” she muttered.
“Oh so that note was probably super awkward,” Anna mumbled. The three of them chuckled. Luke awkwardly pressed his lips together as he stared towards the ceiling.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Anna pulled it out to see her fiance, Brandon, texting her saying there was a few more guests arriving. 
“Okay, I have to go but I’m so happy you came! Lots of people I have to see and like no time. I love you, have fun this weekend! We’ll see you at the reception!” Anna expressed as she quickly hugged Y/N before smiling politely towards Luke.
Anna left the room nearly as quickly as she entered it. Y/N swallowed harshly as she forced a small grin towards Luke. “So, that’s Anna,” she mumbled. Luke laughed as he looked back down towards his suit.
“She seemed like she’s fine with the cream–off white– suit,” he let out awkwardly. She laughed as she pushed him slightly. 
“I’m starving, can we find a place for dinner?” she switched the subject quickly. He smirked for a moment.
“I’ll get to googling,” he offered as he flopped back down onto the bed.
~~~
They returned from the restaurant an hour ago and they were getting ready for bed. Luke was in the shower while she was steaming her beautiful dress. A dress she has been wanting to wear for almost a year. 
The TV beside her was playing a random episode of Friends. She listened along as she placed the hand held steamer onto the small desk beside her. She smiled towards it. Weirdly, the dress holds a lot of power over her. All she wanted was for it to be perfect. 
This weekend had to be perfect.
The shower turned off and she spun her head around staring towards the bathroom door. There was small amounts of steam coming from the small crack at the bottom of the door. 
“Oh shit,” she heard Luke say from the bathroom. “Dammit,”
Swallowing harshly, she bit her bottom lip. Almost instantly Luke pulled the door open. Steam poured out of the bathroom behind him. His hair was soaking wet. His body was only covered by a towel loosely around his waist. There were small droplets all over his frame. Her eyes widened as she scanned his frame. Her body froze as she suddenly felt weak looking over him. 
Her eyes trailed up his frame as she soon met his gaze. “I um–” he let out as he stepped towards her. “I forgot my clothes in my–” he mumbled as he looked into her eyes as he gripped the towel tighter on his waist. “My clothes are in my bag,” he let out softly as he continued to look into her eyes. 
Slowly, she nodded as a hum fell from her lips. He took a deep breath, his gaze dipping towards her lips. He cleared his throat as he slipped past her. Spinning around, she rested her hands onto the small desk beside her. Her hands clenched into fist as she let out a breath she was holding. Her shoulders slumped as she squeezed her eyes shut.
She could hear Luke rummaging through his bag. Her fist delicately hit the desk. He shuffled past her as he stepped back into the bathroom. She took a deep breath as she walked towards the bed. She sat down as her feet dangled off the end of the bed.
She took a deep breath as she stared towards the ceiling. “I can’t–” she mumbled as she swallowed harshly. It took another minute before he stepped out of the bathroom. This time a pair of black sweats and a lose black t-shirt on his frame. Her eyes widened as she kept her gaze ahead.
He walked around her as he laid on the bed. Luke leaned up on his elbow as he looked passed her towards the screen. Her body straightened as she took a deep breath. She could feel him laying behind her. She clenched her fist as she tilted her head back. 
“Y/N,” Luke let out.
She stood up from the bed instantly. “I’m going to shower,” she mumbled as she walked towards her suitcase taking a hold of her own set of pajamas before she walked into the bathroom. Quickly, she shut the door as she pressed her back against the door. She let out a huff of air as she shut her eyes again. Carefully, she placed her pajamas onto the bathroom counter.
She walked towards the walk in shower and turned it on. The water was already hot, steaming as it shot out of the shower head. Stepping back, she took the ends of her shirt and pulled it over her head and tossed it quickly towards the floor. Her breathing was fast as she took the remainder of her clothes from her frame. 
Without hesitation, she stepped into the shower. Letting the steaming water burn against her skin. Washing every thought out of her mind as she tilted her head back. Her eyes shut as images of Luke shirtless flashed into her mind. Swallowing hard, her eyes opened trying to push the image from her mind. 
Despite shoving the thought away it found itself back in her mind. Shutting her eyes, Luke’s body came back into her mind. The muscles that look like they’re sculpted by hand. 
Clenching her jaw, she forced her attention towards her body wash to shower as fast as possible.
It took another twenty minutes before she was done with her shower. Stepping out of the bathroom, her entire frame got hit with what felt like a wind of cold air as she reentered the tiny room.
Luke was scrolling on his phone as he was still sprailed out on majority of the bed. He lifted his gaze as he saw her walking towards the bed. “How was your shower?” he asked softly as he dropped his phone face down.
“What?” she forced out, her eyes widened.
“How was your shower?” he repeated slower. 
“Fine,” she mumbled as she climbed onto the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. Luke looked over her side profile, watching her brush her wet hair away from her face as she stared straight ahead. 
“What’s wrong with you?” Luke let out while laughing. Her eyes widened as she looked down towards him, he was still laying and leaning on his elbow. 
“Nothing, I’m fine. Wa–Water was hot, really hot,” she mumbled, swallowing hard. “Really hot water,”
“Yeah?” he let out as he smirked slightly. She hummed before she shifted her gaze back towards the TV, tapping her fingers against her knees. Luke nodded slowly before he climbed off of the bed. “It’s late,” he mumbled. “Are you cool if I turn off the light?” he asked as he walked towards the light switch beside the bathroom door.
“Yeah,” she muttered as she took a hold of the comforter and climbed under the covers. She laid facing the wall. Luke looked over her frame for a moment before he flicked the light switch off. He walked around the bed and laid onto his side again. He climbed under the covers as he was sitting up slightly. 
She tossed the comforter lower on her frame. Luke looked over her, watching her body rise and fall. He took a deep breath, tilting his head back against the headboard. He chewed on his bottom lip as he shifted his gaze towards the TV. 
“I’m gonna watch this a little longer, is that okay?” Luke ashed as he shifted his gaze towards her. Y/N adjusted the pillow beneath her head. 
“I don’t mind,” she mumbled as she forced her eyes shut, needing sleep to overtake her body. He nodded as he kept looking over her body. He took a deep shaky breath as awkwardly fidgeted with his fingers.
~~~
She woke up to the sound of her alarm blaring beside her. She stirred as she reluctantly reached towards her phone that was rested on the night stand beside her. Luke jolted awake before he rolled onto his stomach with a groan falling from his lips.
“Oh my god, turn it off,” he mumbled as he covered his head with a pillow. She chuckled softly as she turned it off. She snuggled deeper into her pillow as she rolled over to face him. Well the pillow that was covering his head. “Why is your alarm so obnoxious?” he questioned, his voice rasped as he spoke.
“How else am I supposed to wake up?” she shot back as she stretched her arms up. 
“To peaceful bird sounds and twinkley noises, not whatever the hell that was,” he expressed as he pulled the pillow from his head. He rolled onto his side to face her, holding the pillow against his chest.
“Is that really what your alarm sounds like?” she asked as she chuckled softly. 
“Absolutely, I like to wake up in a good mood,” he offered before he rolled onto his back, staring towards the ceiling. “Now I’m in a bad mood,” he muttered as he fought off a grin on his lips. 
“I can fix that,” she offered as she looked over his side profile. He swallowed hard as he shifted his head to meet her gaze. 
“Yeah?” he asked as his gaze lowered towards her lips briefly. “Fix it how?” he asked teasingly.
She watched his gaze meet her eye again. She pursed her lips forward as she stewed on it for a few seconds. “There’s a breakfast buffet downstairs that opens in ten minutes,” she offered. He smirked as he raised his eyebrows. He fought off a chuckle as he shifted his gaze towards the ceiling. 
“You do know the way to my heart,” he let out teasingly as he stood up from the bed, whipping the comforter off of his frame. She smiled teasingly before she followed in pursuit. “When do we need to start getting ready?” he asked as he turned on the sink while also reaching towards his tooth brush. She took a hold of hers as well.
“I want to show up by three-thirty, so shoot for that,” she expressed as she applied toothpaste to her toothbrush. 
“And you set our alarm for nine in the morning,” he let out while shaking his head. She chuckled as she rolled her eyes playfully. “Disrespectful,” he muttered before he began brushing his teeth while fighting off a grin.
After another ten minutes, they were walking side by side down in the lobby towards the buffet. 
His phone started vibrating in his pocket, he pulled it out to see Quinn was calling him. “I’ll meet you in there,” he expressed as he held up his phone, showing it to her. She nodded encouragingly before she entered the huge dining area.
He brought his phone towards his here, “Big day!” Quinn shouted into the phone. 
“Yeah, first game of the tourney, right?” Luke let out before taking in a deep breath. He spun around watching her search for an empty table. He watched her look towards his direction. He looked down towards the floor as his heart jumped into his throat.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever–not what I was talking about!” Quinn said while laughing, “Isn’t tonight the wedding of Y/N’s old roommate,” Quinn expressed.
Luke chuckled dryly as he lifted his head up again to look back in her direction. Yet she wasn’t where he last saw her. A small frown formed to his lips as he forced his gaze to the ground again.
“Did you seriously say whatever about the Four Nations Faceoff?” Luke questioned.
“You have been pining after this girl for almost a year and you two are going to a wedding. Where you are sharing a hotel room for fuck sake,” Quinn expressed excitedly.
“Quinn,” Luke let out while laughing. 
“Y/N inviting you to this wedding was practically handing you a condom. You just gotta use it!” Quinn said through laughter. Luke was sure he could hear Jack and a few other guys laughing in the background.
“I cannot believe you just said that!” Luke said as he tossed his head back, “What the hell does that even mean?” he let out while laughing, “You know what, I don’t even want to know! Good luck today,” 
“You too, big guy,” Quinn teased before Luke hung up the phone. 
Luke dragged his tongue across his bottom lip as he fought a grin. He tapped his thumb against the screen a few times before he shoved it into his pocket again. He lifted his head up as he began walking towards the dining area. Y/N was already sitting down, waiting for Luke. Her plate full of food. 
He walked towards her, delicately resting his hand onto the back of her chair. Tilting her head back, she met her gaze. “How’s he doing?” she asked softly. He took a deep breath as he bit his bottom lip for a second.
“He couldn’t care less I think,” Luke muttered as he glanced towards her food. “That looks amazing. I’ll be back,” he said walking towards the line. She chuckled to herself as she glanced behind her watching him walk away. He shifted his gaze behind him, quickly Y/N looked back down towards her plate; avoiding his gaze. 
Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears. Shutting her eyes, an image of Luke standing in front of her. His body was only covered by the towel. Her gaze lingered on the muscles tensing from the cold air. All she wanted was to glide her hands across the lines of the muscles. Instead of him walking away from her, his hands took a hold of her cheeks desperately leaning towards her.
Forcing her eyes open, she swallowed harshly. She clenched her fist as she took a deep breath. “I can’t,” she reminded herself as she poked her food with her fork. “I can’t think about it,” she mumbled before she brought a forkful of food towards her mouth. 
She kept her gaze on her plate despite the incoming steps towards her. “Everything looked so good,” he offered as he sat down beside her. She hummed as she kept her gaze onto her plate. “Suprised you didn’t get coffee,” he muttered. She hummed again before shoving a bite of food into her mouth.
He nodded as looked over her features suspiciously. “Are you okay?” he asked again as he poked the scrambled eggs on his plate. She hummed again as she avoided his eye. He pursed his lips forward for a moment as he looked over her; avoiding his eye. “You’re doing that thing again,” he asked before he took a bite of food. 
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows harshly before she shifted her gaze towards him. “What thing?” she mumbled before she took another bite of food. He smiled softly as he took a deep breath.
“You go all quiet and avoid looking at me,”
“I do not,” she muttered lowering her gaze again, “I’ve been told I don’t shut up actually,” she shot back. He chuckled while rolling his eyes playfully. He continued to look over her features. Taking note of the soft grin on her lips as he watched her lift her gaze back up towards him. Tilting her head to the side, she met his eye. 
“Which is why it’s weird when you do the quiet thing,” he let out.
“Just eat your food,” she said as she kicked him under the table. He laughed before he took a dramatic bite of food.
~~~
The ceremony was starting in an hour and she only had thirty minutes left to get ready. A robe covered her frame as she was leaning into the mirror as she was applying the final touches of her makeup. 
Luke was standing beside her as he ran his fingers through his hair with some gel in his hands. He was almost ready, he was procrastinating on putting on the suit. It was something he’s always done before game days. Luke felt good for all of five seconds while wearing suits, so he avoided wearing them for as long as possible. But tonight was special. She loved that suit. 
She met his eye through the mirror as she pulled out her lip gloss from her travel bag. He smiled softly towards her as he rinsed the gel from his hands. She applied the gloss onto her lips as she continued to look towards him through the mirror. He smiled softly as he dried his hands off before he began to walk behind her. Delicately, he rested his hand onto the center of her back as he squeezed passed her. 
“I’m going to get changed,” he said softly as he slipped passed her. Her posture straightened as she pressed her lips together to even out the gloss on her lips. She hummed as she watched him walk out of the bathroom while delicately shutting the door. 
The light blue dress came into view. A soft smile formed to her lips as she looked over it. Y/N took a step back as she began to undo the robe. Slowly, she let it slip from her frame before she adjusted her matching underwear. Y/N reached towards the dress and pulled it off of the hanger as she began to unzip the dress and pull it from the hanger.
After a few seconds, she was able to pull it up her frame. Her eyes lit up as she put her arms through the thin straps. It remained unzipped in the back as she admired the color against her skin. Her eyes were brighter as she admired herself in the mirror. Blue was not usually a color she wore. Her business casual attire was constantly neutral tones only.
Her hair cascaded down her back as she glided her hands across her shoulders. Smiling to herself, she felt beautiful. She felt beautiful and sexy and the dress wasn’t even fully on yet. Reaching behind her, she took a hold of the zipper, she began to pull the zipper up her back. 
She was only able to get it halfway up but it began to squeeze her body in an amazing way. She turned to her side admiring the way the dress showed off each curve of her body. Her hands glided along her frame, the fabric was smooth against her hands.
It was everything she was hoping for and more. Except she couldn’t get the damn zipper up all the way by herself. She took a deep breath as she clenched her jaw as she attempted to reach for the zipper again. It moved a milimeter before she realized that she would need help.
The dress was perfect, her hair was perfect, her makeup was perfect. She was perfect. Tonight had to be perfect. 
Swallowing hard she glided her hands along the dress again before she took a delicate hold of the door handle and pulled it open. 
“Luke,” she let out softly. 
“Yeah?” he called back.
“Can you help me with something?” she asked as she took a step out of the bathroom. 
“Yeah,” he said as he walked towards the bathroom. Stopping short as his gaze scanned her frame. He bit his bottom lip as he continued to admire her. “Wow, you look–” he trailed off as he dragged his tongue across his bottom lip, “Gorgeous,” he muttered.
She took a deep breath as she smiled softly as her own eyes looked over his frame. The suit was cream colored with a hint of blue. It was such a unique shade of white that his eyes were the brightest she’s ever seen. His undershirt was more blue but it was still cream-like. He smirked as he watched her eyes look over his body. 
“I can’t get the zipper all the way up,” she said nervously. He nodded as he chewed on his bottom lip. “Can you help with that?” she questioned barely above a whisper. He nodded again as his eyes flickered all over her features.
It was impossible to speak. He was speechless. His gaze lingered on the clear gloss on her lips. Her beautiful lips that he hasn’t stopped thinking about. Her lips that he’s dying to feel on his. He forced his gaze to meet her eye. Her eyes squinted slightly.
Slowly, she spun around pulling her hair over her shoulder. Y/N took a deep breath as she felt Luke’s hesitant hands hover over her frame. It was electric as tension and desperation coursed through her frame. 
Her body straightened as he rested his hand delicately onto her waist as his other hand took a hold of the zipper that was nearly zipped up. Her eyes shut as her breathing picked up. 
He glided the zipper up her frame as his slender fingers grazed the smooth skin of the center of her back. It was fully zipped up and it fit her frame perfectly. His hand kept a hold of the zipper as he watched her tilted her head back slightly.
It was a moment that lasted longer than it should’ve. Him being that close to her and her unsteady breaths. His hand on her waist was twitchy and hesitant. Almost as if it didn’t belong there. It was intoxicating having him that close, her vision was blurring. Yet, it felt right. 
His fingertips glided down the center of her back before he reluctantly pulled his hands away from her waist. Her body instantly ran cold without his touch on her skin.
Luke pressed his lips together as he took a deep breath. Y/N turned around to face him. Her gaze stared towards his chest for a few seconds before she looked up and met his urgent gaze. 
“Gorgeous,” he let out barely above a whisper.
She smirked as she took a deep breath, “I was shooting for stunning, but I’ll settle for gorgeous,” she teased as she watched a wide toothy grin form to his lips. “You look handsome,” she offered as she scanned his frame again.
He nodded, “I was shooting for sexy but I’ll settle for handsome,” he shot back as she pushed him backwards while chuckling. His hands landed onto his collar as he was adjusting it. “Are you ready to head out?” he questioned softly. 
“I will be in like two minutes,” she mumbled as she walked towards her suitcase to pull out the white strappy heels that matched with the light blue. Luke sprayed himself with his cologne three times all over his body. She smiled softly as the smell took over the hotel room. It was the one she bought him for his birthday back in September.
It was a bourbon and oak cologne that she thought he would hate. It was sweeter than a typical men’s cologne. It had hints of vanilla. She thought that alone would force him to leave it on his shelf and never wear it. Except, he has worn it nearly every day since she bought it. 
Luke placed his cologne into his bag, watching her struggle to slip the heel onto her foot. He smiled to himself as he walked towards her, awkwardly holding his hands in front of her to help her. Meeting his gaze, she rested her hand onto his shoulder for stability. 
Once the heels were on, she met his gaze. His cheeks were pink as he was scanning her features. “And we’ve reached stunning,” he expressed. A shy smile fell on her lips as she pushed him away from her teasingly. 
Quickly, she pulled out her own perfume bottle from her own suitcase and sprayed it all over her frame. It was a beautiful mixer of rose and vanilla. “Okay, let’s go! We are going to be late,” she expressed. He chuckled while rolled hos eyes playfully. 
~~~
The wedding venue in itself was gorgeous. The ceremony side was outside. It was an old garden house that was refurbished into a wedding venue. It was covered in vines and gorgeous white and pink flowers. The floor was a shiny concrete that look slick and new. It was beautiful. Luke and Y/N were sitting beside one another near the outmost aisle.  She was sitting on the inside as he was awkwardly resting his hands into his lap.
The ceremony was going to start in a few minutes and she saw a few of her college friends walking towards her and Luke. Y/N smiled a wide grin. “Y/N!” Chloe cheered. Y/N stood up from her seat and happily wrapped her arms around Chloe for a hug. “I’m so glad you came!” she expressed as she pulled away.
“Me too,” Y/N mumbled as she pulled away. “Chloe, this is Luke,” she muttered as she pointed towards Luke behind her. Luke stood up as he adjusted his suit jacket. Chloe’s eyes widened as she nodded approvingly. 
“Ten out of ten,” Chloe let out teasingly. Y/N mouth fell open as she fought off a grin.
“Oh no, we’re just friends,” Luke interrupted as he delicately rested his hand onto the center of her back. Chloe’s eyes widened as she nodded slowly. She took note of the hand on Y/N’s back. “Nice to meet you,” Luke offered his hand towards her. Chloe quickly shook his hand. Sharing awkward glances between them.
Some music erupted inside of the ceremony room, signalling that everyone should get ready for the bridal party to come out. Chloe’s boyfriend jogged down the aisle of seats. Luke, Y/N, and Chloe all sat down in a row. 
Luke looked towards her, taking a deep breath. After a few seconds, she shifted her gaze to meet his eye. “Thank you,” she mumbled. 
His eyes squinted slightly, “For what?” he asked softly.
She smiled softly, “For coming with me,” 
“Of course,” he let out with a dry chuckle as the music switched towards the typical bridal music. Their eyes remained connected as the bridal party began making their entrance into the venue. “Y/N,” he let out softly.
Swallowing hard, she forced her gaze towards the bridal party. Awkwardly, he pressed his lips together as he tilted his head back.
The ceremony began with the usual wedding speech. The sun was starting to set behind the alter. From the glass being somewhat clear, it created a beautiful hue of orange and pink. Anna and Brandon were stunning. 
“Today is a celebration. A celebration of love, of commitment, of friendship, of family, and of two people who are in it for forever. You don't have to have a ceremony to have a marriage. And when you think about it, the whole thing is kind of weird, right?” Anna’s brother began, who was officiating the ceremony. He continued on cracking a few jokes here and there. Anna didn’t want anything serious, her brother officiating the ceremony was the perfectw ay to make that happen.
“You fell in love by chance, but you're here today because you're making a choice. You both are choosing each other. You've chosen to be with someone who enhances you, who makes you think, makes you smile, and makes every day brighter. You're about to make promises to each other that you intend to keep. You're going to vow to take care of each other, to stand up for one another, and find happiness in the other.”
You’ve chosen to be with someone who enhances you.
Her gaze shifted towards Luke during the speech, his gaze was already on hers during it. Meeting his soft gaze, her lips curled upward. A barely audible chuckle fell from her lips as she tilted her body into him; bumping him. A toothy grin formed to his lips while he rolled his eyes playfully. 
The rest of the ceremony went by beautifully. Anna’s brother’s words were clearly something that Anna wrote for him to say. Anyone that knew him, knew he had to study those words. But it was beautiful and unique to Anna and Brandon. 
Anna could barely get through her vows. She spent most of her two minute speech, trying to stop crying. Through the tears, she was able to express all of her love and admiration for her partner. “My everything, my world. I want nothing more than to spend forever with you. I love you, B,” she concluded as she carefully handed the paper towards her maid of honor.
“Anna,” Brandon began as his voice shook, “There was a time in our lives where we were convinced that we were just friends. That part of our life lasted seventeen years. In case you guys didn’t know, we’ve been friends our entire lives because our parents we’re best friends. You’re my soulmate but I thought we we’re those platonic soulmates. That was until we went to prom as just friends and then I kissed you. So that whole just friends thing went right out the window.”
The entire ceremony began chuckling along as Anna rolled her eyes playfully.
“But you’re my best friend and the love of my life. I never thought that I would fall in love with the girl I’ve seen eat worms at the age of six or the girl who fell off of the monkey bars and broke her arm trying to impress the playground yard at the age of nine. I never thought that my best friend and I would fall in love. But everyone in our lives did. It was as if destiny refused to change our path, the path that allowed us to fall in love and stay in love. I want nothing more than to grow old and wrinkly with you. I am so in love with you Anna Julie Grimes,” 
Y/N tilted her head back slightly as her eyes began to get teary. God did she love weddings. Delicately, she raised her hand up and tapped away the tears that were fighting to fall from her eyes. She took a deep breath as she watched Anna wipe tears away from her face. 
Y/N sniffled as her lip quivered. Luke rested his hand onto her clothed thigh forcing her gaze towards him. She met his eye as she smiled shyly. He dragged his thumb across the fabric of the dress as she looked back towards Anna and Brandon. Luke kept his hand low on her thigh.
After a few more seconds, Brandon kisses his bride in the most dramatic fashion. He dips her back. Everyone began to clap and cheer for the newly weds. The bridal party began to walk down the aisle the same order they arrived in the ceremony. 
Anna and Brandon kissed several more times as the bridal party was leaving. Y/N wiped her tears again as she was smiling widely. As Anna and Brandon started walking down the aisle, all of the guests stood up and clapped as they walked out of the venue. 
Hesitantly, Luke rested his hand onto the center of her back. His thumb gliding along her skin. Her body stiffed, not used to his hands on her skin like that. She turned to meet his gaze, smiling softly. 
“You really love weddings, huh?” he let out teasingly. She fought off a smirk as she tapped beneath her eye again.
“I really do,” she mumbled as she looked into his soft gaze. He ran his hand back and forth slowly. Their eyes remained connected as they talked quietly about the ceremony in itself.
Chloe glanced down towards Luke’s hand onto Y/N’s lower back. A teasing smirk on her lips.
The reception started two hours ago and it was safe to say that majority of the guests were tipsy from the open bar. The food was incredible and now all of the guests were on the dance floor. There was not a single person sitting down. 
It was as if they were in a night club with everyone clustered together dancing and singing along to the songs that the DJ was playing. To her suprise, Luke was fully invested in dancing, she thought he wouldn’t want to partake. He looked ridiculous but she was convinced that she also looked ridiculous.
Resting her hand onto his chest, she leaned towards him, “I’m going to get another drink,” she whispered loudly into his ear. He nodded.
“I’ll come with you!” he shouted, a smirk toying to his lips. He held out his hand towards her and she gladly accepted it allowing him to guide her through the crowd towards the bartender. He was holding her hand tightly as he glanced behind him every time making sure she was okay. Every time their eyes met, her stomach erupted into butterflies.
Once they left the crowd, she thought that he would drop her hand. Except he didn’t. He kept a hold of hers as he slowed down. He stopped short waiting for her to walk beside him. 
They reached the bartop, the bartender immediately looked towards their direction. “I’ll take a beer and she’ll have–” he trailed off as he met Y/N’s gaze. Her mouth fell open as she looked into his eyes. His eyes were so bright despite the darken venue. She watched as his gaze lowered towards her lips as he bit his bottom lip. 
“Vodka cranberry please,” she offered as she forced her gaze towards the bartender. Slowly she slipped her hand away from Luke’s. His gaze immediately dropped down towards his hand without hers. He pressed his lips together as he rested both of his hands onto the countertop. She followed in pursuit as she bobbed her head back and forth to the Wocka Flocka Flame song in the background.
“Having fun?” he asked softly as he inched towards her. His shoulder bumped into hers.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” she mumbled. He smirked. She loved when he did that. His cheeks would also flush slightly every time his lips curled upward like that. Her heart would pound so hard against her chest. 
She was tipsy, her thoughts always toyed the line of what it would be like to kiss his perfect lips. A mental pros and cons list of what would happen if she did. 
The bartender slid over the beer and the short glass. Luke forced his gaze towards the bartender, sliding over a fifty dollar bill. The bartender’s eyes widened but he didn’t oppose on the tip.  
Luke brought the beer towards his lips, taking a long sip while making eye contact with her. She took the tiny straw towards her mouth, sipping urgently. 
He rested the beer onto the bartop as he reached up and unbuttoned another button of his undershirt. His cheeks were flushed red as his forehead was glistening with sweat. She didn’t slow down, desperate to intoxicate more and more of her thoughts.
His eyes widened slightly as he chuckled, “Woah,”
“Was thirsty,” she let out teasingly, the glass was empty and she happily placed it back down onto the countertop. 
“Guess I gotta catch up then,” he mumbled bringing his beer towards his lips.
“You’ll need like four more,” she let out. He shook his head while drinking it. The bartender wandered back towards the pair, looking towards her expectantly. “Can we have two vodka cranberries, please,” she let out. The bartender nodded as he began making the drinks again. 
Luke finished his beer, nearly instantly and placed it down. He leaned against the bartop on his elbow as he looked into her eyes. “This is crazy,” he let out as he pointed towards the dance crowd. Even Anna and Brandon’s older relatives were apart of the dance floor. 
“I expect nothing less from those two,” she explained while chuckling. Y/N brushed her hair off of her shoulders. Tilting her head back as she shut her eyes for a moment.
“If my wedding isn’t a party like this, there is no point,” Luke expressed as he looked towards Anna and Brandon dancing like no one was watching. Anna was scream singing in Brandon’s face. They were in love and it was so evident from how they were looking and dancing. Luke dropped his head towards the floor as he dragged his tongue across his bottom lip.
The bartender placed two of the short glasses in front of them. Y/N happily took a hold of it and instantly brought it towards her lips. He smirked before he brought the tiny straw towards his mouth. He took a cautious sip before he nodded. Shocked that it was good. 
“Alright, I need all of the couples on the dance floor for a little slow dance,” the DJ spoke as he slowly changed the song to Easy by James TW. Luke took another long sip before he placed the mostly dranken glass onto the countertop.
He held out his hand towards her. She squinted her eyes slightly as the corner of her lips turned upward. “Luke,” she let out barely above a whisper.
“We’re dancing,” he expressed as he let her take another long sip of her drink before she placed it down.
“Okay,” she mumbled as she took a hold of her hand. He guided her towards the dance floor where people were dancing together. Anna and Brandon were in the center while the couples surrounded them. They found a spot, where Luke dropped her hand waiting for her to initiate. 
A shy smile formed to her lips as she delicately raised her hands up and rested them onto the base of his neck. Her thumbs glided along the skin beneath his jawline as he slowly wrapped wrapped his arms around her lower back. His hold at first was hesitant but she slowly got closer to him. Subconsciously, she glided her fingers through the ends of his hair. 
“I’m surprised,” she muttered as her gaze flickered all over his features. His eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“About what?” he questioned softly.
“From your dance moves earlier, I assumed you had no rhythm but here you are,” she let out teasingly. A chuckle fell from his lips as his arms around her waist tightened, pulling her closer to him. 
“I have incredible rhythm, thank you,” he shot back. 
Soon her arms wrapped around his neck, getting closer to him. He smirked as he stared towards her lips. “Found a way to my heart now it’s like you’ve here the whole time, ‘cause girl, you make it, oh, so easy. Oh so easy to love you,” the lyrics rang loudly throughout the room. 
“Not as good as me,” she teased. He pursed his lips forward as he fought a grin while shaking his head. 
Their eyes remained connected for a while. She never wanted to look elsewhere. His blue eyes were so intoxicating as he didn’t look away. Usually by now she would look away, overly shy. But the alcohol in her system or his hands around her waist gave her the confidence to fully look into his gaze. There was something different with the steady gaze he gave her. 
His cheeks were flushed red while they continued to sway to the new slow song, This Love by Taylor Swift. She took a deep shaky breath while her lips curled upward slightly. 
Luke’s lips parted as he contemplated on saying something. One of his hands glided along the exposed skin of the center of her back. His thumb very delicately glided along her skin. Her body erupted with goosebumps.
“You’re my best friend, you know that right?” he let out softly. 
Her smile widened as she looked into his eyes while her heart jumped into her throat. All she could muster up was a nod as she rested her head against his shoulder. Words were impossible but being this close to him felt so right. He tilted his head against her head as they continued to sway back and forth to the lyrics.
“Been losing grip on sinking ships. You showed up just in time. This love is good, this love is bad. This love is alive back from the dead. These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to me,” the lyrics rang out.
Her eyes shut as she took in the familiar scent of the cologne he wore; every day since she bought it for his birthday. She could hear her heart pounding against her chest. 
They’ve never been this close, their bodies pressed against one another. Yet it was familiar, like their path allowed them to be this close. All she ever wanted was to stay in this moment, their bodies swaying in perfect sync.
“Y/N,” he mumbled against her ear. Slowly, she lifted her head off of his shoulder, their faces mere inches away from own another. Taking in a deep breath she pulled her hand back, gliding it along his neck before she took a hold of his cheek. 
Her manicured thumb glided along his cheek. Their noses bumped into one another as his breathing was uneven. Her lips curled upward slightly as her eyes shift upward, meeting his gaze. His eyes squinted slightly before she looked back down towards his lips. Her eyes fluttered closed, trying to obtain any amount of courage she has.
She couldn’t wait any longer while pulled him towards her. Her lips met his with so much need and desperation that Luke froze for only a second. His lips parted, deepening the kiss instantly.
His hands tightened along her waist as he pulled her against him, kissing her back instantly. His lips tasted like the vodka cranberry he just drank as his tongue met hers. Her entire body felt like fire while his lips were perfect against hers.  
There was no moment where they were trying to figure out what each other liked. It was as if they knew exactly what the other person wanted. He pulled back taking an urgent breath before he reached his hand up and tangled his hand into her hair as her arms wrapped around his neck.
A soft moan fell from her lips as her hands found his curls again. Her fingertips glided and tugged at the short curly pieces at the base of his neck. He pulled back, his eyes flickering open as he watched her lean towards him again. 
Looking around him, he noticed the other wedding guests. The reminder that they weren’t alone, surrounded by a hundred people he didn’t know. He chuckled softly as he raised his hand up, delicately brushing a few pieces of hair away from her face. She took a deep breath as she finally opened her eyes meeting his gaze. 
“Luke,” she mumbled out. 
“Can we–” he trailed off as she instantly nodded as her hands glided down his chest, gripping the suit jacket. 
He chuckled dryly as he stepped back, tilting his head back slightly. He grinned as she held out her hand towards him. He gladly rested his hand in hers as she began guiding him away from the crowd. 
Her gaze stared towards her phone in her hand as she was ordering an Uber to take them back to their hotel. After the order was placed, she raised her hand up towards her cheek, feeling the heat rising against her skin.
Luke admired her frame. Her hips swayed as she walked in front of him. There was an overwhelming sense of urgency in the way she guided him out of the venue. He was drunk but his mind was the clearest its ever been. 
She was everything to him. 
She’s everything that he’s ever wanted. 
She’s everything that he’s ever needed. 
They stepped outside, the Uber was nearly there. The cold air hit her skin yet her body was so hot it didn’t matter. She leaned against the wall outside of the venue and Luke stepped in front of her. Luke pulled his hand away from hers as he scanned her features. Looking up towards him as he took a hold of her chin. His thumb glided along her jawline as he looked into her eyes.
Her hands rested onto his chest for a moment before she glided her hands up towards his neck.
He leaned towards her delicately pressing his lips against hers. Her phone vibrated in her pocket as she reluctantly pulled her head back. His eyes flickered open as he glided his thumb across her swollen bottom lip. 
“Fuck,” he let out barely above a whisper. She smirked as she glanced behind him, noticing the car behind them.
“Uber’s here,” she mumbled. He hummed before he leaned towards her pecking her lips for a few seconds. He walked towards the Uber, introducing himself as they both climbed into the back seat.
The Uber took off to the hotel that was only a few minutes away while Luke reached over and took a hold of her furthest thigh from him. His hand was running along the fabric of her dress soothingly. 
Y/N tilted her head to the side looking over his side profile, admiring the redness of his cheeks. “Luke,” she mumbled. He turned his head to meet her gaze as the driver turned up the radio. He took his hand off of her thigh as he raised his hand up and rested it onto her neck. Luke pulled her towards him, kissing her so delicately before he leaned forward; pressing his forehead against hers.
It only took another minute before the Uber driver pulled up to the hotel. 
They climbed out of the car together. She began walking ahead of him. Luke glided his hand across his chin as his eyes trailed her frame. 
She glanced behind her, almost double checking that he was following after her. Of course he was. They entered the hotel lobby and walked straight towards the elevator. Luke pressed the elevator button several time before he reached towards her, taking a hold of he waist. 
Y/N giggled as her back pressed against his chest. He brushed a few pieces of hair away from her neck. She pressed her lips together as she tilted her head to the side. Luke pressed wet kisses along the side of her neck. Her breath caught in her throat as his hands wrapped around and rested onto her stomach.
The elevator doors opened and Luke instantly guided her into the elevator. Another giggle fell from her lips as she instantly pressed eight. He guided her towards the back of the elevator, forcing her body against the wall. A sudden gasp left her lips as she watched his swift movements. The elevator doors closed and he instantly took her lips with his. 
A rush of heat coursed through her body as he began to suck on her bottom lip. A breathy moan left her lips as he popped her lip out of his mouth before he devoured her lips once more. Her stomach tightened as pleasure coursed through her body. His body pressed against hers, desperate to get as close as possible.
The elevator dinged as it pulled open. Reluctantly, he stepped back, his chest rising and falling quickly as he scanned her frame. He grinned as he walked backwards holding his hand towards her. She smirked as she took a hold of his hand, letting him lead her towards their shared hotel room. 
Luke was pulling out the keycard from his pocket as he continued walking down the hallway. They reached their hotel room and he instantly unlocked the door.
The hotel room was nearly pitch black. Luke pulled her inside, a soft giggle fell from her lips. Her back pressed against the door as she met his gaze. Slowly, Luke pulled the suit jacket off of his frame while looking into his eyes. He tossed it towards the floor as he reached towards her taking her face in his hands as he continued to look into her eyes.
“Should we talk about this first?” he asked softly as he searched her gaze for answers.
Shaking her head slightly, she took a hold of one of the buttons on his undershirt. She began to unbutton his shirt, “I’d rather not talk,” she expressed as she tugged at his shirt. He stepped back, kicking his shoes from his frame as he continued to unbutton the shirt for her. 
Without hesitation, he pulled the shirt from his frame, tossing it to the ground. Luke instantly stepped back towards her, taking a hold of her cheeks as he devoured her lips. Quickly, she kicked off her heels as her hands glided along his newly exposed skin. 
He took a hold of her waist, guiding her away from the door, towards their shared bed instead. They tripped over his suit jacket over the floor, causing giggles to fall from their lips. She pulled her lips away from his as she glided her hand down his chest teasingly. His lips curled upward as his hands glided along her frame.
Slowly, she turned around, pulling her hair away from her back. He glided his fingertips across her upper back while he carefully took a hold of her zipper. Hesitantly, he rested his hand onto her waist. He didn’t tug the zipper down instantly, suddenly nervous. 
“Please,” she mumbled as she tilted her head back slightly. A soft blush formed to his lips as he tugged the zipper so slowly down her back. He glided his hand along the skin, toying with the clasp of her bra before he slowly pushed the straps of the dress from her shoulders. 
Carefully, still facing away from him, she pulled the dress frome her body. Stepping out of it, she kicked it away from them. Luke took a hold of her stomach pulling her back against him. “Luke,” she mumbled as he pressed wet kisses along her shoulder, towards her neck. He hummed against her ear before she slowly turned around to face him. His eyes widened as his gaze lowered. Her body was only covered by the lacy light blue bra and underwear. 
Standing so exposed in front of someone like this, she was used to overwhelmed. A wave of insecurity used to wash over her. But right now, she’s never felt so beautiful. Subconsciously, her arms began to cover her frame. Luke instantly took a hold of her arms, pulling them back down to her side.
His lips curled upward, seeing her like this; seeing her in a light that is only for him to see. He took a delicately hold of the strap of her bra, pulling it forward as he glided his hand down. Letting it clasp back in place. 
Her gaze was shifty, afraid to fully look into his eyes. He reached towards her, resting his hands onto her cheeks’ forcing her to meet his gaze. “So fucking beautiful,” he mumbled as his thumbs glided along the hot skin of her cheeks. He leaned towards her pressing his lips so delicately against hers. 
Slowly, she pulled away from him as she carefully sat down onto the bed. She looked up towards him, her eyelashes fluttering. He stepped back, unbuttoning his pants in the process as he grinned towards her. His chest was hurting from the intense unsteady breathing. She leaned back, scooting back on the bed as a soft chuckle fell from her lips. 
Without hesitation, his boxers the only thing covering his frame, he climbed on top of her. Their lips connected instantly. Her hands instantly found his curls as she tugged on the small strands. His hands started roaming her body, delicately gliding along her silky skin. 
“Luke,” she mumbled against his lips. He pulled back briefly before he began to trail wet kisses from her lips down her neck. She tilted her head back giving him more access. His tongue circled momentarily as slowly climbed lower down her frame. “What does this mean?” she found herself asking as her hands ran into his curls. He hummed against her collarbone as he toyed with the clasp of her bra. 
“I thought you said no talking?” he muttered as he looked up towards her as he unhooked her bra with one hand. She bit her bottom lip as she helped him pull her bra from her frame. “Just be here with me, right now,” he mumbled against her skin. “No overthinking, no thinking at all,” he pressed his lips against her collarbone. 
“Yeah, yeah; let’s do that,” she mumbled breathlessly. He chuckled against her skin, sending a vibration through her body.
~~~
It was early the next morning when she finally woke up. She stirred slightly, taking in a deep breath as her eyes slowly flickered open. Glancing down, she saw familiar hands around her stomach. She felt his lips, softly brush against her shoulder.
Flashes of last night entered her mind like photographs. The way his hands gripped and glided along her skin. His lips pressing and sucking against her skin. The breathiness of his voice and the soft moans coming from her own lips. Her vision blurring from the overwhelming amount of desire as he continued to make her feel so good. His lips and hands felt like they were meant to touch her frame, please her.
“Morning,” he whispered before he continued to brush his lips delicately along her skin. Slowly, she rolled onto her back, meeting his tired gaze. She raised her hand up and delicately glided her hand along his skin.
“So last night wasn’t a dream,” she mumbled while looking into his gaze. He smirked slightly as his fingertips glided along her skin of her back in an inconsistent pattern. Leaning towards him, she kissed him; mainly to see if the magic from her intoxicated mind was still there. 
As soon as his lips connected with hers, the sensation was almost more magical then the night before. She hummed as she pulled away, every ounce of tension in her body faded as she looked into his eyes.
“What are you thinking?” he asked softly as he continued to glide his hand along her skin. She shook her head as she began to kiss him again. He chuckled against her lips as she carefully push him onto his back. Her hand glided along his chest, the more she deepened the kiss. She could feel his heart pounding hard against his chest.
She pulled back, meeting his gaze, “What’s this?” she asked softly as her hand continued to carefully glide along his chest. 
“What?” he asked softly, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.
“Why is your heart beating so fast?” she asked. He glanced down towards her hand on his chest.
He smirked, “I can’t really control it,” he let out teasingly. 
“Do I make you nervous?”
“A little,”
“Why?” she asked softly as she continued to look into his eyes. His lips fell into a pout as he shook his head slightly. “Don’t be nervous,” she whispered.
“What are we doing?” he asked softly as he ran his hand across her cheek. His thumb gilded along her lower lip. Y/N hummed as she looked into his eyes deeply. She didn’t reply right away as their eyes remained connected. Simply enjoying the moment of them being this close. 
“Right now, I just want to stay like this,” she explained as she inched towards him, wanting his lips on hers again. Luke nodded as he looked all over her features, “I don’t want to talk about anything yet,” she mumbled. 
“But–” he muttered as he glided his hand to the base of her neck. Her lips fell into a pout. “We’re going to have to talk about it eventually,” he expressed. She nodded as he quickly leaned towards her kissing her desperately. 
“Okay,” she mumbled against his lips as he slowly climbed on top of her, a giggle falling from her lips.
~
They were only fifteen minutes from their apartment complex and neither of them have talked about what has happened. The music was loud and they were singing along to the  songs. Their hands were kept to themselves. Suddenly aware that the bubble they have been in since the wedding won’t last.
Reality was around the corner and wedding bliss was completely gone. The tension between them was high, she missed having his lips on hers. She knew that last night meant more. It was obvious to both of them that they had feelings for one another. But it was difficult to finally say the words.
Luke swallowed hard as he reached over and turned down the music. 
“I was listening to that,” she mumbled as she tilted her head to the side to meet his brief gaze. 
“Y/N,” he let out with a soft smile on his lips.
“I know,” she muttered while chuckling softly. “I just don’t know what to say,”
“I would maybe start with something like “Oh my god Luke, you’re like the best kisser ever,” or something,” he let out mocking her voice slightly. 
She barked out a laugh, “I would never say anything like that,” she teased.
“So it’s not true?” he said with a smirk.
“I would never stroke your ego like that,”
“Funny, you did a lot of that last night–”
“Luke Hughes!” she scolded smacking her hand against his shoulder.
“And this morning,” he let out, a teasing grin on his lips.
“Oh my god, Luke,” she let out again while shaking her head.
“There you go,” he teased.
She rolled her eyes playfully while looking back down towards her lap. Slowly, she spun the rings on her fingers as her heart was pounding so loudly. She chewed on her bottom lip as she searched for the right words.
Usually she would run. She hated confrontation or real conversations. Maybe that’s because Jonathan was never good at it. She was always afraid of speaking her real feelings, finding the right words.
Luke took a deep breath, realizing it was more serious than what he was letting on. It was important, this moment was important. Probably not perfect timing on his part because all he wants to do right now is kiss her. Except he was flying down the expressway going eighty miles an hour. 
Y/N fist clenched as she shook it slightly. She tilted her head back, staring towards the car in front of them. “I am not good at this,” she muttered while letting out a long breath. 
“What do you mean?” he asked softly as he glanced towards her for a second.
“I’ve only been in one relationship and it was bad. Not even just at the end. It wasn’t good from the start. I don’t know what’s good. I don’t know how to be–” she trailed off as she dropped her gaze towards her lap. “I know but I can’t say it. I don’t know how to say it,”
“I don’t know either,” Luke let out while taking a deep breath, “But I do know that I am in love with you,” he forced out. His eyes widened slightly as his mouth forced shut. He stared ahead as he pulled off the exit towards their apartment. Her lips curled upward as her heart jumped into her throat.
“In love?” she asked with a smile. 
He scoffed before he let out a sudden laugh. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know,” he teased as they pulled up to a red light. Their eyes finally met as he tilted his head to the side.
“I’m not pretending,” she mumbled, “I thought–I didn’t– I thought you were just
” she stopped talking as she continued to look into his eyes. “In love?” she asked a grin toying to her lips. 
“I thought I was obvious,” he let out teasingly as the light switched to green. He forced his gaze ahead. “Like embarssingly obvious,”
“And how were you obvious?” she questioned teasingly.
“Well there was the constant flirting with you,”
“It was not constant,” 
“It was almost all of the time, actually,” Luke let out while chuckling.
“Maybe you’re bad at flirting,”
“Maybe you’re oblivious,” he turned his head meeting her gaze as they landed at another red light. “I was kind of just waiting until you were ready,” 
“Ready for what?” she asked softly.
“Ready for this,” he muttered as he leaned towards her, kissing her desperately for only a few seconds. He kept his hand onto her cheek, gliding his thumb across the skin momentarily before he pulled away from her.
“We need to get home,” she mumbled as she tilted her head back as she bounced slightly. Her body was full of adrenaline as she saw their apartment complex straight ahead.
“Yeah?” he let out teasingly as he drove ahead. All she come muster up was a hum as she chewed on her bottom lip. He pulled into the parking garage towards their apartment complex. He parked his car in his parking spot and instantly climbed out of the car. She followed in pursuit. 
He jogged around towards her side of the car, looking deeply into her eyes. Luke stepped up towards her as her back pressed against his car. Her heart jumped into her throat as she looked into his eyes. 
He reached his hand up and delicately took a hold of her cheek, “I’m in love with you,” he whispered again. Her lips curled upward as she scanned his features. 
“Yeah?” she teased. He rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head slightly before he leaned towards her kissing her urgently.
Her hands instantly found his hair again, pulling him closer if it was even possible. “I’m in love with you too,” she mumbled against his lips. 
He pulled back as he tilted his head to the side, “Thank god,” he mumbled before he devoured her lips once more. 
848 notes · View notes
raven-dor · 9 days ago
Text
'cause i like you
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the four times james 'bucky' barnes calms you down, and the one time you return the favor
PAIRING: bucky barnes x fem!reader, bucky barnes x thunderbolt!reader, platonic!thunderbolts x fem!reader
WARNINGS: Walker, mean man, protective Bucky, crying, hurt/comfort, low self esteem, DEPRESSIVE EPISODE, SELF HATRED, angsty af, like super angsty, mission gone wrong, love confession!!
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
đŸŽ¶ : delicate - taylor swift
AN: đŸ©”â™„ïžđŸ’›đŸ’— - alternative title - you and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day!! reader is like a 'female Bob', powers are sort of the same as Bob's but weather (weather manipulation and such) your superhero name is Vortex!!
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one. 
The overcast weather perfectly reflected your mood, the gloomy grey sky making it nearly impossible to see the brighter side of things. 
This day would go down in the books as one of the worst days of your life, of that you were sure. You’d woken up with a pounding headache, nothing out of the blue, but not exactly something you were looking forward to. You then made your way to the kitchen, grabbing your favorite cereal box, only to realize that it was empty. Someone (most likely Walker) had put the empty box back in the cabinet, apparently forgetting the trash can that was a mere two feet away from him. Then, on your way to the deli to grab your favorite chicken noodle soup, a very rude man shoved past you, almost causing you to fall into the slush-covered sidewalk. 
You’d finally reached the deli, a sort of solace from the day you’d had. The counter was within reach, you were about to order, when a bald man cut in front of you. You frowned, taking a deep breath so that your powers didn’t get the best of you, the cloud above your head storming. “Excuse me, sir.” 
The man in question ignored you, continuing to anger you by shouting out his order. You crossed your arms, clearing your throat once more. “Excuse me-” 
“What?” The man whipped around, and you almost ran away, his eyes full of annoyance and anger. “Listen, lady, why don’t you just shut up so I can order my food?” 
Your eyes had begun to water, this man’s rude nature becoming the final straw. Your bottom lip began to shake as you opened your mouth to fight back. “I-” 
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
An angry tear fell down your cheek. You tried to reason with yourself - maybe this man was also having a horrible day, maybe his car got hit, or his rent was late. But your anger didn’t care about what had happened to him, because he had finally broken you, and now-
“Hey.” A gloved hand reached around you, his voice dark as he tapped the man’s shoulder. “Apologize.” 
“I swear to god, lady-” He turned around, eyes wide as he came face to face with the Winter Soldier. “You’re the- the-” 
Bucky nodded, stepping in front of you to put space between you and the man who’d upset you. “Yes, I am.” He had a horrible sort of smile on his face, one that at first glance seemed polite, but under the surface was destructive, almost begging the man to upset you again.  So why don’t you apologize to the lady for cutting in line, and we can go about our day?” 
“Yes- I um-” The man couldn’t get a full sentence out under the watchful gaze of the Winter Soldier, his cheeks bright red as he addressed. “Sorry, miss.” 
“Thank you.” You whispered. “No harm, no foul.” 
The man scurried away, a light laugh falling from your lips when he forgot his order he so urgently needed. You looked up at the man beside you, smiling gratefully. “You didn’t need to do that.” 
Bucky scoffed, ordering your chicken noodle soup before giving you his full attention. “Yeah? It looked like if I hadn’t, he would have faced your wrath.” 
You laughed, hooking your arm through his like it was second nature. “You’re not wrong.” 
“Your little storm cloud was thundering and everything
” He shuddered, muttering a quick thanks when the man behind the counter handed him your soup. “Last time that happened, New York was suddenly in the eye of a hurricane.” 
“It wasn’t just him that made me upset, you know.” You leaned your head onto his arm, suddenly feeling a lot better. “Walker ate the rest of my cereal.” 
“I know.” You looked up, confused as to how anyone else could have known. “Bob told me.” 
“Ah.” 
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two. 
The Watchtower receptionist made herself busy when she looked up and saw you stalking through the lobby and straight into the elevator. Your powers were wild, the cloud above your head conjuring up yet another storm, no doubt caused by your knee injury, which was throbbing in pain. 
You’d been having a good day: you’d gotten your favorite drink at your favorite cafĂ©, visited a quaint bookstore with a plethora of antique books, and no one had bothered you as you walked down the busy New York streets. 
Then you tripped over the curb, flying forward and scuffing your knee and palms. 
The ever-familiar ding echoed through the empty elevator, finally reaching the penthouse. You stumbled toward your room when Bucky’s unmistakable tone stopped you in your tracks. “Hey Trouble. Where have you been? I missed you.” 
He hadn’t seen the front of you, the torn-up pant leg, the teary eyes. What he said was not even in the slightest upsetting, if anything, it was kind, heartwarming, even. It was his kind question that made you cry, tears falling in consistent streams. “I’ve been out.” God, your voice sounded uncharacteristically shaky, whiny even. “Sorry, can I just-” 
“Hey.” He walked in front of you, holding your face in his hands. “Why the tears, Doll?” 
“I fell. Scraped my knee.” He looked down, wincing at the bloody wound. 
“I have a lot of experience with these sorts of things.” His boyish grin instantly lightened the mood, causing your stomach to flutter as a result. “Why don’t I fix you up, yeah? Would that make you feel better?” 
You nodded, following him to his bathroom, and promptly hopping onto the counter. “Thank you.” 
“Of course.” He smiled, standing between your legs, your cheeks growing hot at the proximity. “This is gonna sting, okay?” 
“Just do it.” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. “Thank you for this.” 
“You said that already.” His tone was soft as he carefully tapped your wounds with an alcohol wipe. “It’s nothing. You know I’d do anything for you.” 
“Bucky
” If you’d thought your cheeks were hot before, it was nothing compared to the way you felt now as you peeled your eyes open. He was already staring at you, eyes as gentle as ever. “You’re too sweet to me.” 
He shook his head, his smile shy as he looked back through the kit, grabbing a band-aid. “You’d do the same.” 
“I would.” You nodded. “But you always do this.” 
“Yeah?” He carefully placed the band-aid over your knee, grinning like he’d just accomplished something spectacular. “Do what, exactly?” 
“You take care of me.” The super soldier still stood between your legs, his hands lying gently on your thighs. “No one’s ever done that for me.” 
“As long as I’m around,” His eyes were captivating, pulling you in every second you held contact. “You’ll be looked after, I promise.” 
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three. 
You didn’t possess the will to roll out from under the covers, telling yourself it would be fine if you stayed in bed all day. It wasn’t like anyone would miss you, or anyone would come looking for you. Your room was practically pitch black with the shades pulled shut, the only source of light the crack at the bottom of your door, the hallway light peeking through. 
You just stared at the ceiling. That’s all you could do, all you felt like you could do at least, at the moment. 
 This always happened when you least suspected it. If you were being honest with yourself, it was something you could never escape from, no matter how well you thought you were doing. Your mind had dangerous corners, thoughts that pestered at your walls until you cracked. No matter how hard you worked to rid yourself of them, they stayed there, like a disease. 
Sometimes, on good days, you could push them away, back where no one could find them. Other times, times much like today, you allowed them to control your senses, pull you into an infinity pool of self-pity, of doubt, of hatred. 
Hatred, the kind that ran deep in your bones, the kind that made you think you were worthless, undeserving. A knock rang through the silent room, and you turned your head toward the door, voice hoarse as you called out. “What do you want?” 
“Doll.” Of course, He always knew. Always. “I’m coming in.” There was no fighting him. He shut the door gently behind him. “One of those days, huh?” 
You nodded, not having the strength to speak. He crossed the room, flipping on your bedside lamp. It was yellow, the light. Like the sun, it was comforting, much more comforting than the fluorescent lighting the tower came with. 
If you looked at Bucky, if you truly took in his beautifully sweet face and kind eyes, you would crumble into a pile of tears. He lay beside you, draping a hand over your waist and pulling you into him. “What happened, Trouble?” 
“I-” Your eyes immediately welled. “I-” 
“It’s alright.” He whispered, kissing your temple so softly you could have sworn it never happened. “You know it’s not true. You know that.” 
“But it is.” You sobbed, shaking in his hold. “I- I don’t deserve this. Any of this.” 
“You’re everything.” He kept whispering sweet nothings over and over, his embrace pulling you back to reality, to reason. “Everything. Don’t listen to that voice. Trust me, Doll.” You couldn’t respond, sobs still wrecking through you. 
“Don’t leave me.” You cried, “Please-” 
“I’m right here.” He pulled you closer, wiping away your tears. “Not going anywhere.” 
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four. 
The trees brought you much-needed shade from the summer sun. You’d dragged Bucky out of the Watchtower for some much-needed fresh air. He hadn’t fought that much, giving in to your incessant begging almost immediately. 
You clung to his arm as you walked through Central Park, your fellow New Yorkers also taking advantage of the perfect day. He looked over every so often, before quickly looking away whenever you caught him.
“Is something on my face?” 
He shook his head, laughing. “Just admiring the view, Doll.” 
You rolled your eyes, smacking his arm playfully. “Don’t.” 
“Don’t what?” He laughed, enjoying your attention. “You’re gorgeous.” 
“James
” If the summer sun didn’t completely melt you by the end of the day, his compliments would. “You’re just saying that.” 
“Am I?” He spun you into his arms before you even had the chance to blink. The others who populated the path just walked around you, unbothered by this blatant show of affection. “It’s funny.” 
“Funny?”
“You have no idea.” 
Your heart beat hard against your chest, pupils wide as he leaned his forehead against yours. “And just what do I have no idea about?” 
“What you do to me,” His eyes trailed to your lips, pulling you closer. “I can’t even begin to-” 
“Hey!” And just like that, the moment vanished. Bucky’s posture was stiff, pin-straight, and defensive. “You’re the Winter Soldier.”
He turned around, facing the stranger. “I am.” 
You watched the man who’d addressed Bucky for any sudden movements, frowning as you observed his body language. He was angry, aggressive, his fists clenched. You wondered how long it would take for Walker and Ava to get here. 
“How do you sleep at night? How do you sleep, knowing how many you’ve killed?” Bucky simply stared, like it was something he dealt with every day. “How do you live with yourself?” 
You stepped out from behind Bucky, tired of cowering. If he wasn’t going to defend himself, than you would be damn sure that you did. “Do you know what he’s been through? Not only that, but what he’s done for this country, for this world?” You were positively shaking with anger, the sun disappearing behind the storms clouds you unknowingly conjured. The park’s attendees started to whisper, staring at the sky in fear. “Do you know how many times he’s saved this city alone?”
“Doll.” He whispered. “Stop.” 
You whipped around, eyes wide. “What?” 
“It’s not worth it, honestly.” 
“This man is- “
“Let him.” He smiled. “I’ve dealt with worse.” 
“Bucky-” 
“I’m not finished.” 
“Yeah.” You glared, effectively shutting him up. “You are. Get out of here before I do something I won’t regret.” 
“Alright.” Bucky coughed, hooking his arm through yours and pulling you away before you made good on your promise. “That’s enough out of you.”
“I’m sorry.” You whispered once you were far enough away from the heckler. “He just- I can’t believe he would say that to you-” 
“He has every right to. And I can’t blame him.” He smiled, kissing your temple quickly. “But thank you for defending me.” 
“And thank you,” You smiled, leaning your head on his arm once again. “If it wasn’t for you, I’m pretty sure New York would have been in a Category Three hurricane.” 
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the time you saved him
It was supposed to be a simple mission, so simple that only three out of the seven of you were needed. Bucky, Walker, and Yelena had left two days ago. 
They had yet to return. 
The first day, you’d been fine, telling yourself that Bucky probably insisted they stay in a safe house to ensure they weren’t followed.
The second day was a different story. You were a mess, horrible thoughts echoing through your mind, thoughts that did nothing to soothe the ache of Bucky’s absence, of your friend’s possible death. You couldn’t sleep, eat, or focus on anything other than willing them to return. 
You were now standing in the kitchen, forcing yourself to drink a hot cup of cider. Perhaps that would calm your growing nerves. Bob sat behind the island, head in his hands.
He was as anxious as you, if not worse. Those two nights Bucky, Yelena, and Walker were gone, you kept each other company, staring at the city below from your balcony. 
The elevator chimed, indicating someone had reached your floor. You made no movement to see who’d come to visit. It was probably Val dropping by to let you know you had interviews with every major news outlet tomorrow morning. 
While you and Bucky had never made it official, everyone knew there was something between the White Wolf and Vortex. You almost cried thinking about the fact that you'd never been brave enough to confess your feelings to him.
She would tell you what outfit to wear, something dark, grey, but still flattering. She’d tell you to play the mourning lover act with the interviewers, to cry when you said his name, to pause in the middle of your sentences to feign emotion. 
Your eyes welled at the thought. Little did Val know that you would end up doing that without her pointless guidance. 
“You had one job, Walker!” 
You slammed your mug on the counter, racing toward the lobby. “Bucky-” 
He looked livid. The super soldier was radiating anger, his eyes shooting daggers at the US Agent. “If it wasn’t for your stupidity, we would’ve been home by now!” 
“I said I’m sorry-” Walker looked genuinely apologetic, his face resembling that of a kicked puppy. It was rare that Bucky yelled at anyone after missions; he'd mellowed with age, you'd joked with him. This was another side that the Thunderbolts had yet to see. 
Yelena stepped in between the two men, trying to seek reason. “Alright. You made your point.” 
Bucky scoffed. “Are you defending Walker right now?” 
“No, Walker fucked up.” She quickly glared at the US Agent. “As always.” 
“Hey-” 
“But he apologized. He can’t fix the past. Let it go.” 
“You-”
“You’re back.” 
Bucky whipped around, smiling when he saw wrapped in his favorite crewneck.  His eyes, which were always soft when he looked at you, held a certain guilt today, something you’d yet to see before. “Hi, Doll.”
“What’s going on?” You carefully approached your teammates, frowning at the visible wounds each of them had. “You were supposed to be back yesterday.” 
“I know.” He nodded. “I tried, I swear I did, but Walker-” 
“I said I was sorry!” 
“Walker-” You stepped forward, your fingers grazing over his cheek, assessing his cuts. He stilled like the act had startled him, like it had shocked him to his core. He faltered, stepping back like he wasn’t allowed to enjoy your touch. “I have to go clean up.” 
You frowned. “I’ll see you later, then.” 
You waited until you’d heard his door slam shut to address the remaining two. “Anyone want to tell me what happened?” They avoided your eye contact, staring anywhere but you. Yelena even tried to ask Bob for help, but it was no use. “I’ll wait.” 
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“Bucky?” You stood outside his door, waiting for a response. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 
You heard his feet shuffling, and a small smile broke free as you thought about him trying to tidy up his room for you. “One second.” 
You waited patiently, smiling brightly when he opened the door. “They told me what happened.” 
“Yeah?” He looked nervous, not at all like the man you’d grown to love. “Remind me to-” 
“Do you want to talk about it?” You stepped closer, hands itching to reach out and hold him. “You know you can talk to me, right? You’re always there for me, for everything, and I want to make sure you know I’m there for you too. You can trust me with anything.” 
“I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.” 
“Yeah?” Your voice was soft. “Then talk to me.” 
He stepped aside, shutting the door behind you. “It’s a mess in here.” 
You fought the laughter that threatened to spill from your lips. The ‘mess’ he’d talked about was a few shirts on the ground and a cup on his bedside table. “This is nothing. You should see my room.” 
“What did they tell you?” He stood nervously in the center of the room, too anxious to sit down. “Because-” 
“They told me that you were the reason they got out alive. That when Walker went down, you stepped in and took out the enemy before they could get to him.” 
“Okay.” He nodded. “Thought they would say something much worse than that-” 
“They look up to you. Walker especially. And I know he’s annoying, but he-” You squeezed your eyes shut, shocked that you were even saying this. “He means well.” 
“It’s not Walker that upset me.” 
You tilted your head. “What upset you?” 
“I-” He shuddered. “I felt like I wasn’t in control of myself.” 
Oh. “Bucky-” 
“When I finally stopped, when I had taken down the last of them, I didn’t recognize myself.” His voice was small, much like when you’d saved him with Steve all those years ago. “It felt like I was him all over again.” 
“You know you’re not.” You reasoned. “The Wakandans got the last of it out. I was there.” You reached up, caressing his cheek once more. “You’re not him anymore.” 
“I know.” He croaked, this time leaning into your touch. “I was scared. For the first time in a while, I was scared, and I took out that fear on Walker.” 
“Oh, Bucky.” You pulled him into your arms, hugging him tightly, his head nuzzling in the crook of your neck. "It’s alright.” 
“I just wanted to get back to you.” He murmured into your skin, his voice causing shivers to run down your spine. “I just wanted to see you.” 
“I’m right here, James.” You gasped when he pulled you closer, your bodies practically one. “I have to tell you something. It’s really bad timing, but-” 
“I love you.” He stood straight, eyes desperate as he spoke. “I told myself that if we got out of there, I would tell you.” 
You hoped that this wasn’t some twisted dream, a soft sob leaving your lips. “I love you, too.” 
“Good.” He nodded, leaning his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what I would do with myself if you didn’t.” 
“I’ve loved you since you gave me that plum you bought from the market.” 
“That long, huh?” He smiled, eyes darting to your lips. 
“Don’t get a big head about it.” 
He laughed, his lips brushing against yours. “Too late.” 
“You know you’re gonna have to apologize to Walker, right?” 
He nodded. “I know. But for now
” His breath tangled with yours as he spoke. “I think I’m going to kiss you.”
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tea-biscuits-books · 10 days ago
Text
invisible string
bob reynolds x reader
âšœïžđŸ„‚đŸŠŸđŸŒ«ïžâšĄïž*ïžâƒŁ
sunmary : you never believed in soulmates
until one day you feel a pull
word count : 3.2k
a/n - ik bob doesnt canonically have a little sister but hear me out - protective older brother hcs?
!soulmate trope !invisible string trope ‱ brief mentions of steve x reader, !platonic bucky x reader
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song : invisible string - taylor swift
âšœïžđŸ„‚đŸŠŸđŸŒ«ïžâšĄïž*ïžâƒŁ
You don’t believe in soulmates. They’re silly little children’s stories, the type that lull little girls to sleep with dreams of princes and fairytale endings. The simple truth is that the only prince that saves you is yourself. You thought someone was your soulmate once. Blonde, charming and a grin that made girls swoon, and pretty blue eyes that gazed at you with something you could only describe as adoration. ‘Doll,’ he called you with that voice that whispered promises late at night into your ear. ‘Stevie,’ You called him. He was ‘Captain America, Steve Rogers,’ to the world, but in your small little protective bubble he was yours and you were his. Until he left. With a briefcase in one hand, and your heart in the other, until he arrived back a couple seconds later, wrinkled with age and a golden ring wrapped around his finger. His eyes, still cornflower blue and just as alight with youth.
“Stevie.” You acknowledge, as if it was merely a casual greeting.
“Doll.” You can hear your voice break, feel your hands tremble by your sides, feel the burning hot blurring of your vision. You watch his lips move to form the familiar nickname. Doll. It had been years for him, minutes for you and it seemed to elict the same bittersweet sting within your chest as always.
“Was the dance worth it?” you breathe. There’s a pause, as if contemplating breaking your heart even further. And then he gives the tiniest nod. And you feel everything inside you shatter just one last time. And only when he turns around, you let a tear slip through the crevice of your mosaic heart.
You always thought these galas were a waste of time. You hide your scoff in your bubbling champagne glass, downing it within two gulps, plucking another from a passing waiter. Political opinions, the soft tinks of wine glasses, and the murmured chatter that was for only one purpose. To build connections. Frankly, quite stupid if you did say so yourself. You had to spend money on nails, to get your hair done and a new dress, though it wasn’t like you were short on assets. Your father had hosted too many charity events in his time, and yet every time he seemed to get drunker than the last, and each time people let him; merely because he was Tony Stark. Genius, philanthropist, billionaire, ironman and devoted father. Those were the titles that stained his name, etched into history books for ions to come. You never expected to be dragged into legal drama after Tony died. But then again, you never expected the government to repackage his legacy into a glossy, weaponized PR stunt. The Thunderbolts— John Walker (ew), Valentina Allegra De Fontaine (who names their child that?!), Bucky Fucking Barnes (backstabbing bitch), Ava Starr (eh), Alexei Shostakov (ehh), Yelena Belova (you weren’t necessarily opposed to her), and now Robert Reynolds (the guy who practically voided New York out of existence)—are being marketed as the “New Avengers” It’s not just insulting. It’s theft. Sam made his stance loud and clear. He filed a lawsuit backed by people who actually understand what the Avengers stood for. And since you’re a Stark with a law degree tucked between your engineering certifications and your grief, you’re now the face behind the suit. That’s why you’re here. This gala isn’t a party. It’s a battleground, dressed in tuxedos and champagne flutes. You’re here to corner Bucky. Strapped into heels far too high for comfort and wrapped in the kind of gown that demanded attention- coloured deep wine red and your hair was done in cascading curlsïżœïżœïżœthick and glossy, tumbling down your back like a waterfall of y/h/c silk. You’re halfway through the crowd—eyes sharp, mouth neutral—when something shifts. You feel it like a snap in your chest. Not pain. Not panic. Just
 tension. Like something soft winding around your ribs and gently pulling forward. Its insistent, a small tug that lures you to the target of the small annoyance. And
its
not who you expected. Robert Reynolds, fiddling with his tie, clad in a dark tuxedo, hair tentatively placed and smoothed with gel, dark and thick and looks soft enough for you to run your fingers through. And before you know it, your heels are striding across the floor with soft clicking that warns him of your upcoming presence. You hear the shuffle of his feet nervously, as he raises his eyes to meet yours, easily towering over your despite the 5 inches your shoes assist your height with. The first thing you notice is how warm his eyes are. They’re a soft brown, almost golden around the edges—eyes that looked too human for someone like him. The type of honeyed amber that reminded you of cocoa that hadn’t been stirred properly, dark and cloudy and a little too easy to sink into if you weren’t careful. You could feel the pressure behind them—barely restrained power, fragile control. One blink too long, and the Void might blink back. His lips twitch, his mouth opening then closing.
“You’re Y-Y/N Stark.” You let out a soft laugh at his stutter, his cheeks tinging pink at the sound.
“And you’re Robert Reynolds and you’re my key to finding Bucky Barnes tonight.”
“Bucky’s occupied at the moment-” He pauses for a moment as if contemplating his next words.
“And you can call me Bob.” The words hang in the air for a moment, unsure, but spoken with the tiniest curve of his lips.
“Bob. Right.” You murmur, sighing, your eyebrows furrowing as you begin to mumble incoherently. Bob’s face falls slightly as he stumbles over his next words.
“B-but he will be back soon. Valentina’s just sent him out-why do you want him anyway?” He covers his mouth.
“Sorry, I get talkative when I’m nervous I shouldn’t have asked that I’m sorry-” You wince at the steady pouring of words from his mouth as he stops to catch his breath.
“It’s alright Rober-Bob.” You catch yourself, watching as his face lights up, like a Christmas light.
“I’m here to talk to Bucky about coming home.” You watch as his face creases into confusion, his brows puckering.
“But Bucky is home,” He protests softly. You stop for a moment.
“Bucky’s home is with us.” You respond firmly.
“Sam, Joaqin and I. Away from those deranged fuckups and that psycho Valentina.” You can’t help the venomous words spilling and spitting from your mouth, they tumble out like dominoes, thoughts that had marinated a little too long so that it hurt and weighed down your chest.
“They’re not fuckups.” You turn your head back to him, feeling his eyes intensely stare at yours. They crumble slightly at your harsh gaze, but he doesn’t back down.
“Alexei, John, Yelena, Ava. They’re not fuckups. They saved me. They’re family.” You purse your lips, turning away.
“We’re Bucky’s family.” You murmur softly into the night. You don’t hear a response, already striding towards the shadowed figure that emerges into the bustling ballroom. As you increase the distance between the two of you, you attempt to ignore the pull that pulses in your chest, an invisible cord straining and unravelling in between the both of you.
“But-” Bob doesn’t finish, the words falling off his tongue as you walk away, his eyes following your retreating figure. His hand drops uselessly to his side, the apology dying in his throat. He wants to call after you, to explain, to do something, but his feet feel cemented to the floor and his chest aches with all the things he didn’t say soon enough.
“Bucky.” You greet, as you meet the dark eyes that remained cemented in your past, and hit a little too close to home. Dating Steve, Bucky was a constant, a close friend and companion that you trusted with your whole heart. He stiffens just slightly when his gaze meets yours—shoulders squared like he’s preparing for impact, and the soft sink of nostalgia and familiarity. Like everything was right except it wasn’t-like an old song that kept going out of tune. You remember long nights on the Tower rooftop, him nursing a drink while Steve paced and you laughed too loudly about things none of you had time to process. You remember what it felt like to have a family. Now, with Steve gone and the team scattered, seeing Bucky under this sharp lighting, in a pressed suit and behind the Thunderbolts’ name, feels like staring at a stranger who shares your grief.
“You look
” he starts, trailing off as his gaze flicks down to the wine-red of your gown.
“Different.”
“I had to,” you say simply. He nods, jaw tightening.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Believe me, I didn’t want to be.” There’s a silence—thick with everything unsaid. The lawsuit. Steve. The way this new team uses the Avengers name like it’s just another label to wear. You glance behind Bucky’s shoulder instinctively. Bob isn’t there. But the string still hums. You feel it like static in your chest. A pull. Not painful—yet—but persistent. Like something reminding you he’s still in the room.
“You came to talk to me?” Bucky asks. You look up into his face, noticing the unshaven but groomed stubble that peppered his chin, and hair was slicked back, unruly even under the product. You feel the words clog your throat, feel your palms sweat against the silky fabric that clings to your sides. You feel his eyes roam your figure, suddenly finding yourself unable to speak.
“I-I wanted to talk to you about Sam and-” Bucky dismisses you with a stiff shake of head. You see the bitter acceptance on his face.
“He doesn’t want to talk to me. I tried.” You sigh softly, finding his prosthetic hand tentatively. It feels too comforting, too familiar, the way the feeling of cold metal clashes with the warm flesh of your palm. It flexes against you involuntarily, pausing and contemplating and drawing back ever so slightly, before finally clasping it’s fingers around yours.
“Did you really? He wants to Buck-he just wants things to be normal again.” Your voice softens.
“He just wants you to come home.” Bucky drags his other hand down his face, his features contorting into frustration.
“Well he ruined that the minute he filed a lawsuit against us.” His tone turns sharp, like a knife that nicks against your heart as you release your grip on his hand slightly.
“Us?” Bucky shuffles on his feet nervously, avoiding your gaze.
“y’know, the team and I.”
“right. The New Avengers.” The words feel venomous on your tongue as you release your intertwined hands, finding yourself craving for some liqour therapy. This night was really not going as you thought it would be.
The moment the glass doors click shut behind you, the noise of the gala fades into a dull hum—just another party filled with expensive perfume and fragile egos. Out here, on the balcony high above New York, everything feels colder. Cleaner. The wind snakes through the air, tugging at the curls pinned behind your ear, and you finally let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The city sprawls out beneath you—steel and light and memory. It’s beautiful in that chaotic, untouchable way. Just like it always was. You take a sip of your champagne. Then another. This one longer, more deliberate. The bubbles burn slightly down your throat, but it’s the sharpness you’re chasing. A distraction. Something fizzy and sweet to fill the ache in your chest that even fresh air can’t quite clear. You grip the edge of the stone railing, cool beneath your fingertips, and tip your head back. Inhale. One, two. The air tastes like autumn and exhaust and the faintest trace of rain, and somehow it still feels better than anything in there. Behind you, there’s music. Laughter. Chatter. The world pretending everything’s fine. Out here, it’s quiet. Out here, you can think. And try to ignore the golden thread tugging gently at your ribs—reminding you that someone else is still in there. Still waiting. Still watching. It’s become insistent, painful, dragging your eyes over to his presence like an addictive sensation until they linger for just a moment too long and his eyes snap to yours and you have to pull your stare while your cheeks painfully colour like an embarrassed teenage schoolgirl.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” The voice is soft—low and warm, like honey stirred into coffee—and it startles you more than it should. You don’t turn around. Not yet.
“I’ve been alone for a while, Bob,” you say quietly, fingers curling tighter around the champagne flute. The glass is nearly empty. The sky above you is wide and starless. Below, New York pulses—bright and careless. You feel him step closer. Not enough to crowd you. Just close enough that the string between you pulls a little tighter.
“I know,” he says.
“I felt it.” That makes you pause.
“You feel it too?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your throat as he slowly nods.
“I thought I was just being delusional.” You redirect your eyes from his face to the skyline, watching the city lights bounce off each other, bustling traffic piercing the cool night air, leaning into the ornate railing. You watch his shoulders lose some of its tension from the corner of your vision, feeling the heat burn off him and seep into your bare arms, hear the breaths that let his chest rise and fall. The light from the ballroom spills faintly behind him, catching the edges of his soft brown hair with hints of gold where the light caught it and the soft brown of his eyes—almost too soft for someone who’s seen what he has. Almost.
“I have a theory. Just hear me out,” He holds up his hands, splaying his fingers out in a gesture of innocence.
“Soulmates. An invisible golden thread knots them together when they meet.”
“You can’t be fucking serious,” You laugh.
“Soulmates? What, we meet and fall in love?” A faint blush colors his cheeks—something you’ve started to notice happens more than he probably knows.
“No. We could be anything, platonic, romantic, enemies.” He mumbles, tugging on his suit sleeve jacket. You turn then, slowly, leaning your shoulder against the railing as you meet his gaze.
“You believe in all this, don’t you?” you murmur.
“The string. The soulmate thing.” His eyes don’t waver.
“I didn’t used to.” You snort, a bitter sound.
“Right. But then we made eye contact across the room and your whole worldview changed?” He doesn’t smile, though his lips do twitch in amusement at your blunt tone. But he also doesn’t flinch.
“No,” he says.
“But then my sister met hers.” You swallow.
“Sister?”
“Emily.” He confirms.
“21 in November.” You hum, noting the tone of protectiveness and love laced into his words. It’s the way he says her name, like she’s everything good in the world. Like she’s the reason he still tries. Something about that disarms you. Just a little.
“You’re close.” Bob nods.
“She’s the reason I got better. She used to write letters to me. Even when I couldn’t answer. Even when I didn’t remember who I was.” You don’t speak. You just listen—watching how his gaze drifts out over the city, how the wind plays with a few unruly strands of his hair.
“When she found her soulmate,” he continues, voice quieter now,
“It wasn’t fireworks or fate or some magical golden thread. It was subtle. Gradual. And terrifying. But I saw it change her. I saw her start breathing easier.” You study him in the dim light, unsure what to say.
“After that, I stopped rolling my eyes at the stories.” Your chest tightens. You’d mocked the golden string too—chalked it up to desperate hope or people needing something to believe in after the world had already ended five different ways. But now you feel it. Thin as breath. Quiet as a whisper. Pulling between you and him.
“I don’t want to believe in something just because it’s convenient,” you hear yourself say.
“Because it would make things
 easier.” Bob finally turns to you again. And this time, he doesn’t look away.
“It doesn’t make anything easier,” he says softly, eyes burning into you.
“It just makes it real.” You take another sip of your champagne, though it doesn’t burn the way it did earlier. It’s lost its fizz. Or maybe you’re too distracted to notice it. The city below continues to hum—uncaring, alive.
“Do you feel it?” you ask, voice barely audible.
“Even now?” He nods. Once.
“Every time you speak,” he says. “Like something pulls a little tighter.”
You don’t respond right away. Just ponder on his words. ‘We could be anything, platonic, romantic, enemies’
“You know I have a story, on why they exist.” Filling the silence stretching between the pair of you.
“Soulmates exist because they’re two halves of a quantum entanglement—a pair of souls linked beyond space and time, their energies forever intertwined. No matter the distance, no matter the trials, their strings pull taut to guide them back to each other.”
“Now you’re speaking my language. Science.” You laugh softly.
“Quantum entanglement huh?” Bob nods, smile widening ever so slightly at your laugh. He made you do that. He made you laugh.
“And we could be whatever we want to?”
“Anything.” You step closer, the tension between you thick enough to taste. Without a word, you brush your fingers lightly against his jaw, then lean in—just for a moment—to press a soft kiss on his cheek. You feel the golden string inside you leap, as if glowing and radiant between the two of you. Bob freezes, his eyes wide, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. The warmth of your lips lingers, and for a second, he’s caught somewhere between stunned and completely undone. You pull back, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. Then, without another glance, you slip away—turning back inside the gala, leaving him standing alone on the balcony, heart pounding and face burning.
A week later, Bob lounges on the couch, book in hand, his eyes scanning the words but not quite reading them. His mind is stuck on the addictive feeling of warmth, the feeling of your lips pressed against the skin of his jaw, the red that bloomed on his cheeks. The feeling of you. The elevator rings, resonating throughout the common room of the tower as Valentina enters, holding up his suit jacket – freshly dry cleaned. And in the other hand- a crinkled slip of paper with numbrs inked in blue ink—Your number. Before he can react, Valentina’s voice cuts through the utter mortification that races in his mind and shows on his face.
“Well, well,” she says, eyebrow raised and knowing smirk wide on her face.
“Care to explain who this belongs to?” Bob’s blush deepens, a nervous laugh escaping as he tries to find words.
“It’s
 complicated.”
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cherry-coffees · 29 days ago
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actress!Caitlyn x reader
cw: 18+ mdni, mutual pining, reader falls first but Caitlyn falls harder, mentions of fingering/oral sex/strap sex, Caitlyn's a little possessive, dom!Caitlyn, but both are switches, nothing too explicit but yk, inspired by the Wildest Dreams music video
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Wildest Dreams starring Caitlyn Kiramman.
Caitlyn Kiramman is the darling of the acting industry. She never wanted to go into the political world of Piltover, thus she hired an agent and found her way into acting before her mother could say no. She's an immediate success. After all, she's a tall, commanding, endearing woman: the acting industry's lesbian heartthrob, if you will. So when the opportunity arises for you to co-star in a romance movie with her, you jump at the chance.
It's over from the start, basically. You fall victim to her alluring gaze and long legs and her surprising amount of strength. When you film a scene, Caitlyn picks you up from behind and swings you around a little, holding you securely against her chest. She's ever the gentlewoman: even when your dress flies up, she's smoothing it down with one hand before setting you on your feet. You come off the set with your cheeks flushed pink. It's not your fault that she's devastatingly attractive.
It takes you a few weeks to figure out that it's not an unrequited crush. You're filming a scene in which you run after her in the rain, your clothes soaked and breath shaky. When the director calls cut, Caitlyn immediately slips off her jacket and lifts it above your head to shield you from the rain.
"You're not too cold, are you?" Caitlyn's hand brushes stray raindrops from your messy hair, lingering a little too long as it slides down your cheek: a touch too intimate to be platonic. You look up at her with widened eyes and see nothing but concern in her own. "I have extra blankets in my room. I don't want you to catch a cold." Her posh accent and furrowed eyebrows display a picture of innocent worry.
That's the night it begins.
Fleeting glances and the occasional brushing of hands on set become messy kisses in the privacy of Caitlyn's hotel suite. She fucks you nice and deep, putting her unfairly long fingers to use. At night, she'll guide your face between her legs, then shift your body upwards so she can fuck you properly. "Oh, just imagine if fans knew you were this desperate," she whispers when she curves her fingers to hit the spot that makes you keen. "We're here to work, but all you want to do is get fucked, huh? But not by everyone. Only me."
It's not just nights with her, either. When Caitlyn reads over her script in the morning, memorizing her lines for the day, she'll tug you into her lap. You shouldn't be surprised when you feel her strap against your thigh. "Go on," she coaxes, though she doesn't look up from her script. "You can ride me. But you're not allowed to come until I have this scene memorized."
Yet, the second you step on set, it's like none of that ever happened. You're keeping a secret that only the two of you share, and you're not sure how to feel about it. Maybe you want Caitlyn to be yours, and maybe you want other people to know it too. When you kiss her in front of the cameras, you pretend it's the first time you've ever known how soft her lips are.
And when you're back on set to film a scene, draped in luxurious fabrics as fans mimic the wind brushing through your hair, you can feel her icy eyes burning into your back. Her eyes follow your form constantly, always observing from a distance while the two of you are working. Even when you're getting your makeup touched up, Caitlyn's gaze traces over your face as the makeup artist smears blush on your cheeks. It's the first sign that sex isn't all she's interested in, that this illicit affair has grown into something far more akin to love.
Nothing ever really stays a secret, right?
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inspired by Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams music video ♡
I want Caitlyn so bad ugh. My fics are a manifestation of exactly what I want with her. Like pleaseee, Commander, I'll be an angel :(
~Cherry 🍒
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viennakarma · 1 year ago
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Everything I Wanted III.
LESTAPPEN x READER (PART 3/FINALE)
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Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.
Word count: 10k
Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, open ending, HEA, not beta read
Relationships: Lestappen x Reader
Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader
Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader
Notes: this is full of motorsport inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are also a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is a tiny bit angsty. Maybe I should've mentioned it before, but both Max and Charles are single in this story. I'm sorry if it feels rushed or if it has any mistakes, I just let my heart go with the flow!
Find me on Twitter!
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
You spend a few days in some happy daze, just shamelessly bashing in your Championship. Everyone knew because you were positively giddy during the last race week in Abu Dhabi, you were seen smiling more during that one week than you had been seen smiling in your three years of Formula 1. 
Some of the drivers were even more amicable towards you and your closest friends were even teasing you all the time, calling you Champion so they could see you blush and giggle.
“Hey there, Champ,” Lewis would greet you.
“Buenos días, campeona,” Fernando would say and laugh at your reaction.
Lando even joked to some reporter that you were in love with the championship.
There was a dinner organized by the drivers to say farewell to Sebastian. Despite knowing most drivers confirmed their presence there, you planned to go and leave early because you always felt left out whenever most drivers got together.
That’s why you texted Lewis to ask what he was wearing that night, and you ended up wearing high waisted suede pants, and a white T-shirt, finishing with a classic black scarpin in your feet and a purse. 
Since you and Nando were in the same hotel, you decided to go together with his driver. Only when you got to the car, Charles was also inside the car, and you had to sit quietly by his side, his thigh brushing yours. Nando was in the passenger seat, and you started small talk with him to diffuse the tension he was unaware was happening in the backseat. You were engaged in conversation with Nando when you felt Charles fingers touching your knee. Jolting, you immediately slapped his hand away.
“You ok there?” Nando asked from the front of the car.
“Uh, yes! Just an- annoying mosquito!” You said, faking a smile.
Charles pouted, crossing his arms and pointedly looking to the window of his side.
As the three of you arrived there, half of the grid was already there, seated and chatting. Lewis welcomed you first, warning that he purposefully invited Sebastian to arrive thirty minutes later, so he was the last to arrive. As you sat beside Nando, you noticed how Charles sat beside you again, facing Pierre across the table, and you ended up facing Max. Your eyes met, but you looked away, deciding to focus on conversation with Nando and Lando, who was in front of him.
When Seb arrived, he was welcomed with a round of applause, which made his cheeks redden a little as he laughed. The dinner went well, and you shared red wine with a few of the others, some of them preferred other drinks. It was nice chatting with everyone, and it was the first time you really felt part of the group, everyone together laughing and eating.
“Y/N, who’s your idol from this table?” Carlos asked with a smirk.
“You wanna put me in trouble,” you eyed around. Everyone knew that the people you were closest with, Lewis, Seb and Nando were your racing idols.
“Come on, your favorite, Lewis, Seb or Fernando?” Lando joined in, and the others joined too, egging you on.
“Kimi is my favorite,” you muttered before taking a sip of your wine. Everyone started shouting and calling you a liar, “fine, fine, it doesn’t mean I’m not a big fan of the other two, but growing up, I’ve always wanted to race like Fernando.”
“And now you do,” Fernando said, raising his glass in a toast, which honestly made you blush. Everyone started making fun of you because you were shy and giggly.
You ended up staying until the end, when everyone had to leave to get a good night of sleep for the free practices the next day.
Race day there was a small ceremony to say goodbye to Sebastian, and it was the only part of the week that made you a little sad, even though part of you were really happy knowing he would get to spend time with his family and dedicate himself to his projects of sustainability. When the drivers made a little corridor to applaud him, Sebastian hugged you and you felt a little teary eyed.
The race was great, and you put some effort into winning that one, because you wanted to finish the season with a bang. And a bang it was, holding the P1 trophy again, kissing it and then raising it high as homage to mom.
After the season ended officially, you went straight to Woking to visit the factory and thank everyone personally for making you a car fast enough to make you the champion. Then you had a few media commitments, had to go over some marketing and legal meetings about brands deals and whatnot interested in your image.
Finally, by the beginning of December, you went back to Monaco and slept in for a few days, relaxing body and mind.
When Lando found out you were living in Monaco, he invited you to a padel match, and despite not knowing the game very well, you never said no to any form of competitive sport that could take your mind off things.
“I’ll let you know, I’m a fast learner, Landito.” You pointed when he gave you a padel racket.
“Come on, you have 20 minutes to learn the basics before our competition is here,” he said.
“Oh, we’ll be playing as duos?” You smiled, letting him lead you to the court.
Lando taught you the basics for a while, and you were getting the hang of it when you heard voices behind you. You stopped short as you noticed your competition were Charles and Max, and as they saw you, they too seemed surprised.
“Hello,” you greeted them with a nod.
Luckily Lando didn’t waste any time with pleasantries and went straight to the game. Which was great, since that was a language you could speak. You soon noticed Charles and Max had a bit more experience than you, so you had to up your game a bit, using strategy to outsmart them.
You and Lando won three games and Charles and Max won four.
As you finished, you went to the net and shook their hands. Max stared at you intensely, but you ignored him and went grab your bag.
“You’re leaving?” Lando asked, “we were going to grab a snack after.”
“Oh, um, yeah- I gotta go, I still have a lot to do around the apartment and I’m waiting for some furniture to arrive,” you gave an excuse.
“You’re living in Monaco?” Charles asked, visibly surprised at the info.
“Yeah. So, bye. Thanks for the game.” You started walking away, but Lando jogged to catch up to you.
“Hey, uh- text me when you’re free this weekend. I wanted to talk to you privately about
 McLaren” he whispered your team’s name and you raised an eyebrow, you had no idea what he wanted to talk about, but you nodded.
Lando ended up coming over to your apartment Saturday afternoon, he helped you paint your living room walls a soft green, and after you finished, you were eating a few snacks when he finally said what he wanted to talk about.
“So, I know that legally we shouldn’t be talking about it, but- for how long is your new contract with McLaren?” He breached the subject. You paused.
“What? You know my contract ends by the end of next season.”
“Yeah but- the new one-”
He silenced himself abruptly, probably realizing you didn’t get a new one. You pressed your lips in a thin line. You had a contract similar to Lando’s, that would end by the end of next year. But now- now Lando had been offered a renovation, and you weren’t.
“They offered you an extension already?” You asked, shocked.
“No- I mean- It’s just-” Lando realized by your face that he had fucked up.
“Lando.”
“Yes, from 2024 on, with possible extensions,” He said, apologetically.
“Oh” you whispered.
“I’m so sorry, I’m sure they are just taking their time putting your contract together since you’re, you know, the world champion,” Lando startled rambling, until his phone started ringing, “I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’m streaming tonight and I need to set up. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sure they’ll offer your renewal soon.”
You bid him goodbye, still processing his words. You tried to be reasonable and not be upset, but the prospect of not receiving a proposal being the world champion didn’t sit right with you. You meditated, thinking to not let that get to you, but a few days before the FIA Gala, you received a proposal from Mercedes, and another from Aston Martin. Both were great, great contracts. They offered a lot of money, security and great publicity.
The night of the Gala, you went all out. Amanda helped you hire a glam team, so you had make up, hair and stylists helping you dress. You wore a silver dress, long with a high slit on the leg, black heels, and your hair was short now, shoulder length and dyed black. You wanted a femme fatale look, and that’s what you got.
Unfortunately, Kimi and Minttu couldn’t go with you, and you didn’t bother to find a date, opting to go by yourself. When you arrived at the ceremony, all eyes were on you. You posed a little by the red carpet and answered a few questions about the championship.
During the ceremony you sat with Lewis, chatting up until the main awards were called. You watched as Charles went up the stage for the third place trophy, he was handsome wearing some designer suit and tie, and glasses that made him even more attractive. He said a couple of words, before making his way down. Then was Max, wearing a gorgeous tux, perfectly tailored to his shoulders and waist. While he was talking, you fixed the bust of your dress and waited for your name to be called alongside the words world champion.
When you got to the stairs, Max was down there, and he offered you a gentlemanly arm to help you up, you hesitated for a brief second but then accepted, letting him guide you up the steps.
Your eyes were on the beautiful trophy. The smile on your face was big, almost giddy, as you went on the stage. You kissed your trophy, leaving a red lipstick stain on the side of it, and you stopped by the mic. After a brief second to recollect your thoughts, you sighed.
“Wow! It’s such an honor to receive this as a token of my hard work and all my years facing pushback for this dream,” you smiled down at the trophy, “I’ll try and keep it brief. I know I have already said some of this, but I’d like to thank my team, not only for making this amazing car that became part of me during this season, but also for giving me a chance three years ago. Thanks to Jace and Amanda, who were such great help this year. I’d like to thank Kimi for seeing me when I was on the brink of giving up and when no scouts looked in my direction, and Minttu for taking me in as one of her own,” you put a hand on your chest, above your heart as your voice choked a little, heavy with emotion, “Thank you, Sebastian and Fernando for accepting my friendship when everyone else turned their backs on me,” you found them both around the crowd, Nando sending you a wink, and Sebastian smiling wildly, “and last but not least, I’d like to thank my mum for working hard to put a roof over my head and food on the table while I was out there hustling for my dream.”
Everyone clapped and you waited for the applause to die down. You could end your speech there, but you wouldn’t be the Lioness if you did.
“Oh, and for those who said I wasn’t gonna go far
 You can suck my-” you interrupted yourself, showing your tongue cheekily, making almost everyone in the room laugh.
That night you drank, danced and sang like never before. You woke up hungover and a little blacked out, not remembering the whole night, only some glimpses of it.
You stayed the Holidays with Kimi and his family, and despite being invited by Lando to a big New Year’s Eve party, you opted for a chill celebration. You still found time to send Sebastian and his family some Christmas presents and you managed to go karting with Fernando on his track in Asturias. 
After meeting with Fernando, you went on a solo trip around Spain, visiting cities and learning a little bit about history while practicing your spanish. You also tried a few hobbies, out of curiosity. You tried playing tennis, skydiving and surfing.
Soon, you were back in Monaco to resume your training for next season and traveling to Woking to see your new car. You also sat with Amanda and your lawyer, and accepted a few brand deals, one for makeup and another for a big fashion brand. You were genuinely happy with both, you always wanted to get into fashion but never had the time or knack for it, but now with your deal, they would link you to a stylist and give you outfit options.
You entered the new season fresh, feeling good not only about your talent as a racing driver, but about your looks and new style, feeling that your championship could finally back you up.
Only if the media got the memo.
“Y/N do you believe when people attribute your championship win to Verstappen’s mistake?”
You felt fire in your throat, anger bubbling up.
“No, I believe I won the championship because I drove well the whole season. I attribute my championship to myself, my talent and my hard work,” your tone was harsh, and you didn’t even bother to sound pleasant, “I wonder if this was asked to every other Formula 1 champion of the world or just me?”
You huffed, putting your mic down, and you saw Fernando leaning towards you to whisper, “it’s good to have the Lioness back.”
It was different seeing Nando wearing green now and Sebastian’s absence was noticed from day one. He had sent you a text wishing good luck in the season.
There was also a weird shift that you noticed soon, right in the first few races. The rivalry between Max and Charles had been placated a little. They were still rivals on the track, but out of it, they were seen chatting and discussing, all in good spirits and friendly. Whatever rift had caused the tension all these years was apparently mended. So now, they were only your rivals, together against the greater evil. You.
Without a win in the first three races that season, you were sure something was wrong. Could it be your car, but it could also be you.
You came out of debriefing feeling a stress induced headache starting. You walked around the paddock aimlessly, just trying to clear your head and not face any photographer or reporter. That’s why you were around the moving boxes and trucks, trying to find a secluded spot to breathe and meditate.
Unfortunately, you ended up facing two people pressed against a wall. Frowning, you tried to understand what was going on, when you realized it was Max and Charles. Their sides were pressed on each other, but what caught your attention was that they were holding hands, whispering to each other.
You paused, trying to make sense of it. And then Max caressed Charles’ jaw. Then you decided, it was none of your business whatever they did.
Turning around, you were leaving when you stepped on something and it broke loudly. You just kept walking away, not looking back, you were almost leaving the lot when someone held your wrist, making you turn back around.
“Wait, Y/N, we- we can-” Charles’ voice failed him, visibly nervous.
“We can buy your silence,” Max added, suddenly. You frowned, shaking your head.
“I didn’t see anything,” you muttered trying to walk away, but now Max also held your other wrist.
“Say your price,” Max pressed further, making you angry.
“I don’t know what kind of psycho you take me for, but I didn’t see anything,” you say, suggestively, “I wouldn’t want someone to out me, and I wouldn’t do that to anyone else either. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Fuck,” Max whispered, letting go of your hand.
“You- you promise?” Charles asked, still not letting go of you.
“I swear on my mom’s grave.” You said softly just because you could understand their fear, you knew first hand how cruel the motorsport world could be. Whatever was going on between them was none of your business.
You left without another word, hoping they believed you. 
The season kept going, and your car wasn’t as good as the year before which was really upsetting you and forcing you to work even harder to match your quality the previous year.
But also both Max and Charles stopped publicly taunting you, making people wonder if your rivalry had ended. It was annoying because that dynamic was all that you’ve known from them, and the fact that they stopped shading you because they were scared to anger you and you eventually exposed them to the world was even more annoying. You wondered if you should talk to them, to let them know it was never coming out of your mouth.
You decided silence was the best course of action. You had enough problems with your car as it was.
Before the fifth race of the season, all the drivers were called for a meeting, to talk about a few safety measures that were being put in place for paddock safety. You sat through it quietly, only listening to the FIA representative. You knew that meeting was because of what had happened to you in Zandvoort the year before, you had taken your complaints to the FIA and miraculously, they had abided by it.
You left the meeting as soon as it was over, walking away. But then, you touched your wrist as a nervous tic.
No. No.
You noticed you didn’t have your watch with you the moment you left the building, patting your pockets to make sure it wasn’t there as you ran right back to the meeting room where the drivers debrief had been.
As soon as you entered, you saw both Max and Charles checking the watch, the monegasque was the one holding it.
“Hey, uh-” you paused, trying to not sound rude, “that’s mine, can I have it back?”
Charles looked at you with that smirk as Max moved away a few steps. Charles opened his hand in your direction, handing you the watch. But as you were to grab it, he pulled back and threw it. You froze, seeing the watching flying directly into Max’s awaiting hands behind you.
“Please, don't-” you gasped as Max pretended to throw it back to Charles. But he didn’t, he just extended his open hand to you, probably noticing the worry in your face.
Skittishly, you got closer to him and grabbed the watch from his hand. He didn’t pull away like Charles had done.
But as you pulled it back, your own hand slipped the watch, and you eyed it with horror as it hit the ground immediately breaking the crystal. You felt like your heart was breaking along with your mom’s watch.
“No, no,” you whispered, kneeling down to take it back.
“Hey, what is happ-” you heard Lewis’ voice entering the room but he stopped short as he saw you almost crying on the floor. He immediately helped you get up.
Both Max and Charles were shocked, still rooted to the spot as it was the first time they ever saw you show any kind of extreme emotion, and the pain in your eyes made both of them get filled with guilt.
You stood up still holding the watch in your hand as a fragile thing, pretty much like your heart.
“Hey, kiddo. Come on,” Lewis put an arm around your shoulders, pushing you away softly after giving the other two drivers a nasty glare.
You didn’t try to get it fixed, and you still wore it even with the crystal shattered. You knew it was a relic, vintage and probably handmade since it was generations in your family. But also you were too emotionally attached to it to get rid of the watch.
After the race, once you got a P2, finally, you went to the hotel, skipping the celebration the team wanted to throw for you but still picking the bill for their night out. 
It was late at night when you were rewatching the race, trying to see whatever mistake caused you to miss that P1 that was just within reach but you didn’t manage to take it. You were taking notes, typing in your laptop, when a knock on your door interrupted. You had already ordered room service, but sometimes Amanda did it for you if she thought you weren’t eating enough.
You opened the door to be faced with Max and Charles.
“Can we come in?” Charles asked, and confused, you opened the door wider to let them in.
“We came to apologize about the watch, we’re sorry.” Max started, looking at Charles for his cue.
“That was really immature of us, sorry,” Charles added.
“It’s alright,” you sighed, a little tired, “it’s not your fault, really. I dropped it, not you.”
“But it wouldn’t have happened if we just didn’t mess around with you.”
You sighed again, despite being sad about the watch, you didn’t really blame them for it. Charles took your hand suddenly, making you stare up at them, both of them looking at the broken watch you were still wearing. Max opened the bag and handed you a small box. It was a Rolex.
“We’re really sorry, Y/N,” he handed you the watch. You stared at the box, taking it as a sign of good faith from them.
“Thanks,” you whispered, “I was just eating, you wanna join me?”
They nodded, uncertain. They followed you to the en-suite, the most recent race paused on the TV. You closed your laptop.
“I appreciate the gesture, but-” you unclasped the watch in your wrist, handing it to Charles who was sitting closer to you, “it has emotional value, it was mum’s.”
You waited as they read the inscription, Charles gasping when he realized it had way more value to you than the stupidly expensive Rolex they managed to buy you. Running his thumb on the inscription, Max looked at you.
“I know a guy back home, he- he can fix the crystal,” Max told you, “would you trust me to take it to get fixed? It’s the least I could do.”
“You don’t have to,” you shook your head, “I don’t blame you for breaking it.”
“Please?” Max asked, and something inside you spread warmth in your chest.
“Fine,” you sighed, seeing Max pocket your watch in his bag, “please, help yourselves.”
They went to the table of room service and grabbed a bit of food. They sat around.
“You were rewatching the race?”
“Yeah, I like taking notes, seeing what I can improve
”
You closed your laptop and the TV, not wanting them to check your confidential information.
“How are you feeling this year?” Max asked, awkwardly trying to start a conversation.
“I’m alright, I guess. I mean, the car could be better,” you shrugged.
“And about your mom?” Charles looked at you intently.
“It’s grief, right?” You blinked slowly, “it comes and goes in waves. Sometimes they’re tiny waves breaking on your ankles, and sometimes it feels like you’re going to drown in them.”
There’s a brief silence, but when you meet his eyes, Charles’ eyes shine in understanding.
“I know.”
Max managed to change topics, talking about the track, the race and his impressions. Was a safe topic, lighter. You didn’t notice how, but you three ended up sitting in a small circle on the floor. Max was passionately talking about track adherence, and he was so focused on his explanation that it was actually funny. You eyed Charles, and you two bursted out laughing, which made Max stop, looking at you confused.
When you stopped laughing, sitting straight, Charles was suddenly very close. Way closer than before. His face was just a few centimeters away from yours, and it made you dizzy.
You snapped your head to Max, who was looking at you with just as much desire as Charles. He nodded to you, giving you permission.
Charles held your face and kissed you, softly and tentatively. You broke the kiss, looking from Charles’ beautiful eyes to Max’s. You watched as Max shifted closer to you, holding your jaw as he kissed you too.
You couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening, but you were very shocked and equally turned on.
Max’s hand slid from your jaw, down to your neck, and you were still wide eyed, your breathing progressively more shallow. You felt Charles behind you, his hand on your waist, pressing softly. You closed your eyes as Max slowly closed the distance between you again, and you felt his lips pressing against yours. With shaky fingers, your hands trailed beneath his shirt, up his back, nails grazing his skin. While you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss, you moaned, feeling Charles leaving open mouthed kisses to  your neck and shoulder, goosebumps rising in your skin. It was overwhelming, because they were everywhere, hands, lips and bodies stealing your breath. Everything was so hot, you felt like removing your clothes and the pulsing in your shamelessly wet panties.
“Take it off,” Max breathed after breaking the kiss, he helped the monegasque, who quickly tore your clothes leaving you only in panties. Max pushed you until your back was on the floor, and he and Charles were kneeling on each side of your body. “Charlie, come kiss her.”
Charles laid down, kissing you gently first, then deepening the kiss until you were pawing his waist and torso under his shirt. Seeing your struggle, he removed the shirt himself, while Max watched, running both hands up and down your thighs. Max suddenly pulled Charles closer, kissing him, their kiss was just as hard and messy as the kisses they had given you. Seeing the way their lips explored each other made you even wetter, and you couldn’t help but run your finger above your slit, your pussy still clothed. They removed each other’s clothes very fast.
They stopped, and Max soon removed your panties, laying between your legs. You moaned as his tongue lapped at your pussy, tentatively and Charles leaned down to kiss you again. Your heart was running insane, so fast you thought it would stop. Charles went lower and mouthed at your nipples, and you reached for his cock.
“Spit,” you ordered Charles, offering the palm of your hand. A little hesitantly, he did, a glob of spit on the palm of your hand and you grabbed his cock again, and he moaned out loud feeling the glide of your hand.
You felt one of Max’s fingers inside you, twisting so good that you had to hold his head, grinding your hips into him. The pleasure of Max working your cunt was so blinding that you lost focus on the handjob, but it didn’t deter Charles, who just decided to fuck into your hand.
You looked down, just to see Max looking straight at you through his lashes. He sucked at your clit, watching you writhe and come undone, grinding your hips on his face, wetting half of his face as he devoured you.
“Charlie will fuck you now, yeah?” Max asked as you recovered, and he carried you to the couch, positioned you on his lap, facing Charles, who just knelt between your legs.
Charles filled you up in one swift movement, and you moaned at the tight fit, melting into Max just behind you, holding you firmly, one hand on your neck, the other across your abdomen. The dutch kissed your neck, biting and sucking your skin, but his eyes trained on the way Charles’ hips started moving into you, you pulled Max’s hand that was on your neck and put it over your mouth, to muffle your moans, he pushed two fingers in your mouth and you sucked. The pressure was deliriously good, and Charles kept blabbering about how good you felt, and how warm was your cunt, and you were making him feel so good, mixed with lots of french expletives. Charles pressed further, his chest against yours as he found Max over your shoulder and kissed him. You felt Max’s hand that was between your bodies, find its way to your clit, rubbing in circles and pushing you even faster to your second orgasm, drooling over the fingers he still had in your mouth, you hips shaking so much you were rubbing Max’s cock with your ass, at the same time that Charles came crashing down, filling you up as he moaned out loud.
“My turn now, yes?” Max said, repositioning you like a ragdoll, while Charles laid down, pulling you on all fours on top of him, as Max took his turn behind you.
Charles pulled your face closer, kissing you all sloppy and open mouthed as Max filled you up to the hilt, making your knees shake. As if he knew, and he probably did, Charles held your hips up when Max started pistoning into you, fucking you so good you could only hold onto Charles and bite into his shoulders to keep yourself from being too loud.
You did not sleep that night. Max and Charles’ stamina wa otherworldly, and you three kept fucking until morning came. Sometimes you just watched them, sometimes you took one while the other rested, sometimes you took them at the same time. With them, you tried more adventurous positions than you had tried your entire life. They had a different way of finding out the workings of your body, of discovering the rhythm you liked and the sound of your moaning echoing on the walls.
The second time they slipped into your room was almost three weeks later, under the guise that they wanted to give your watch back now fixed. 
After a little chit chat Max pulled you into his lap and Charles pressed his chest to your back and in minutes you three were naked, touching and kissing and moaning into each other's mouth.
It became some sort of routine, every few weeks, they would sneak into your room, and you’d bang them any way you wanted.
Then they would stay more, bring dinner or put on a movie. They would snuggle with you in bed while the movie played, Max holding your thigh softly and you playing with Charles’ hair. It was good to unwind and forget about Formula 1.
Every day, after they left, you’d whisper to yourself.
“Don’t get too attached, Y/N. They’re your rivals.”
You didn’t want to poison all the sexy moments and all the tranquility they made you feel, but at the same time, you didn’t want to get too caught up in this. It should be fun, but it couldn’t be more than that.
Racing was never a topic of conversation between you, not only because those few hours together were sacred but also because all three of you were rivals and were in different teams, which could get very messy, very quickly.
Eventually, after Barcelona, McLaren brought a new upgrade. Which for you, it was a godsend. Finally, you could get back on your feet again. The car felt lighter and you had much more control. And in Montreal, you finally got the first win of the season. A huge weight was lifted from your shoulders and you even cried a couple of tears finishing the race first for the first time that year. And it was also the first 1-2 you and Lando had ever, which was even more reason for celebration.
You and Lando ended up closing a club for your celebration, inviting the whole team.
Max and Charles were there too, and they spent most of the night in a booth, chatting among other drivers. You knew they were watching you even pretending not to, and it was a matter of time until they had drunk enough to approach you. So you decided to not stay late and just leave.
You bid Lando goodbye quickly, telling him you were tired even if it was relatively early for a clubbing night. As you made your way to the most discreet exit, you felt a hand on your forearm, pulling you to a corner, and you were faced with both Charles and Max.
“Leaving so soon, chĂ©ri?” Charles asked, eyes glossy and probably a little tipsy.
“We came here to celebrate you,” Max said, one hand going around your waist. Wide eyed, you immediately pushed his hand away, taking a step back. They were confused.
“Not here. Too public, someone might see us, or even take pictures.”
“Don’t be like that, there is no one around now,” Charles pointed around, and granted, it was really empty on that side of the club, but anyone could walk in any moment.
“I can’t,” you shook your head, “not in public.”
“You’re ashamed of us?” Max squinted, looking into your eyes.
“I never said that. I can’t risk anything happening to my image just because I wanted to screw someone.”
“So that’s how you see us? A good fuck and nothing else?” Max pressed you further.
“Again,” you repeated slowly, your patience running thin, “that’s not what I said,” there was a tense pause and you pinched the bridge of your nose, “look, we all had more than enough to drink, and this is not the moment or the place for this conversation.”
“No, no,” Charles shook his head, “I believe you made yourself clear enough.”
With that, they walked away clearly pissed with you. Going back to the hotel, you knew there was nothing you could do at that moment to change their minds. They wouldn’t understand your point of view that easily, not only because they were drunk, but also because they weren’t a woman in Formula 1. Everyone fed off your failures like vultures, and if it leaked that you were going out not only with one, but with two other drivers, you knew you could kiss your career goodbye.
The media was never the kindest to you, and the majority of the fans weren’t either, so you knew how it would look if anyone found out about you three. They already call you slut without any knowledge of your romantic history, they would ruin your life if they were to know. And most certainly question not only your seat in Formula 1 but also your World Championship.
You just hoped you could explain that to Charles and Max when they were with clear heads.
Only you didn’t.
They never came back to your room, nor did they answer your texts.
Two entire weeks passed with only anguish gnawing at your insides, trying to reach them privately, but failing miserably. They were not only ignoring you, but also avoiding you. You couldn’t take it anymore, so in Austria, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You’d corner the first one you saw.
And that was Charles right before the drivers parade. You were the first ones to get there, which gave you some sense of privacy, well, as much as you could.
“You need to listen to me, this is a misunderstanding, Charles.”
But he straight up ignored you, not even bothering to look in your direction. With a heavy heart, you nodded, moving away from him. Making peace with the fact that maybe this was the end of your little affair. They had not understood you, and had ignored all your efforts to explain, closing the door of whatever was going on.
Resolute, you decided that maybe it was for the best. If they couldn’t understand where you were coming from, then better say farewell already. But you couldn’t help that anguishing feeling in your stomach.
It showed to be true during the race, when you were P4 fighting to get into the podium at least. Max was P3, and he fought tooth and nail to not allow you to pass, even if you had the pace to overtake him. You tried a risky move, one you had learned from Fernando Alonso. Pretend you’re going to overtake on one side, let him defend that side, then push your car to the other side and dive for the position.
You almost did the full move, but when you were going for the position, Max just pushed his car into your side, which caused you to lose control and you spun to the gravel. You just decelerated as much as you could. You left the car and went back to the pits with the help of marshals. You didn’t bother to even look into Max’s direction, feeling your eyes getting teary. You weighted with your helmet on, and only took it off inside the garage, because you didn’t want people to see you cry.
It was relatively normal to DFN because of a crash, and given the history of rivalry between you and Max, it was also very common to collide with him. What made you upset wasn’t him protecting his position, but him purposefully taking you out, like he was just getting back at you because he was angry. You had left enough space for him. Despite the overtaking maneuver being a little risky, you never once got close enough to him that you could cause an accident. He had not slipped and lost control. He had not tried to avoid you. He just ran straight into your sidepod.
“What happened today?” A reporter asked you when you went to the post race interviews.
“What is there to say? I think the images speak for themselves.” You shrugged, feeling tired but not wanting to give the media too much as to not cause a PR nightmare to Amanda.
“Seems like the FIA will investigate Max Verstappen because of today’s incident.” Someone else mentioned, and you couldn’t help but scoff.
“I’m sure they will,” you muttered, voice laced with sarcasm.
The debriefing was just as bad with your Team Principal calling you out in front of the whole team not only for damaging your car but also for putting yourself at risk like that.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, I did what any other driver would do in my position!” You sighed trying to calm down, “don’t make me quote Ayrton Senna to you. If you no longer go for a gap that exists, then you’re no longer a racing driver. You and everyone saw that Verstappen didn’t have the pace to match me, so he just plunged into me to take me out!”
God, you needed an ice bath. And maybe a new punchbag.
You were getting ready to leave when Max came up to you. You didn’t say anything to him, you honestly didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. You just wanted to go home and cry under the shower.
He was red in the face and looked distressed. You couldn’t help but feel defensive, holding your bag to your chest.
“I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” you said, trying to walk away but he blocked your path.
“Listen,” he started and the moment he raised his hand to remove his cap, it triggered you, and you flinched as if he was gonna hit you.
He stopped immediately, because he knew that was a trauma response. He knew that him being angry must have reminded you of your father growing up. He knew all that because he too, sometimes, had this kind of knee jerk reaction.
But you felt sick to your stomach. It wasn’t intentional, but it made you look like you believed he would’ve hit you, and rationally you knew he wouldn’t do that. But your stupid body did.
You avoided Max and walked away as fast as you could.
Back in the hotel you just packed your bags and left, going straight to the airport to fly back to Monaco. You were exhausted by the time you made it home, but you still took a shower and cried a couple of tears under the streaming water.
In bed, you tried to convince yourself this ending for your fling with them was for the best. It was too complicated anyway.
And you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t miss the feel of Max’s lips against your neck, or the feel of your hands pulling Charles’ hair softly. Or the way Charles used to mumble French mindlessly whenever he was concentrating on something. Or how often Max would do his maxplaining with his vast knowledge of the most random topics.
Your body was so tired but your mind just did not shut off.
You were a couple of hours into staring at the ceiling when the doorbell rang. Carefully, you went there, it was the middle of the night, so you checked the door camera to see both Max and Charles by the door.
Slowly, you opened to them. You swallowed, waiting for them to say something. You felt so vulnerable, this knot in your stomach had been tormenting you since the day they walked away.
“I’m- we’re really sorry,” Max started.
“For ignoring you and mistreating you and never once giving you the chance to explain your side,” Charles took a small step inside.
It was like a dam broke, and you ran into their embrace, sobbing. All three of you hugged, Charles with a comforting hand on your back and Max kissing the side of your head. They patiently waited for you to calm down, and then closed the door and walked you to the sofa.
“I missed you,” you murmured, holding Max’s jaw to peck his lips, doing the same to Charles, “I’m so sorry about everything.”
“Can we talk?” Charles asked, “you said it was a misunderstanding.”
You nodded, taking your phone from your room. You sat on the coffee table as you gave them your phone with your instagram profile opened.
“Check the comments on my last post,” you pointed and they sat side by side scrolling through it, the horror on their faces getting worse every second they kept going.
You knew the kind of comments you had on your profile. Hateful, hurtful comments. It had been that way since you made it into Formula 1.
“What a slut” “I bet there’s a reason why Charles hates her” “She never deserved that championship! #Retire” “Ugly bitch” “Whose dick she had to blow to get a seat?” “Overrated dumb whore” “I bet she tried to fuck her way through the grid, that’s why most of them hate her” “Max should’ve crashed into her harder”
It was nothing new to you, Kimi and your PR team had prepared you for years for this type of treatment. And you honestly had grown used to it, learning to ignore.
“This is disgusting, Y/N!” Charles exclaimed, trying to put the phone away, but Max snatched it back, still reading the comments.
“That’s just a regular Monday for me,” you shrugged, “I’m not trying to victimize myself or anything, but-”
“You are a victim, this is not okay!” Charles said.
“What I wanted to say is, I can’t risk us going public. This is what I face just for doing my job, and it would get so much worse if people ever found out. They already believe I fucked my way to the top, to them, we would just confirm their suspicions,” you felt Charles holding your hand for comfort, “it is very different for a woman. And I adore what we have, but I can't put you above my career and my dreams.”
Max extended his hand to you, and you grasped it, letting him pull you to sit between them. Charles kissed your cheek.
“We would never ask you to do such a thing,” Max said.
“I’m sorry we didn’t see what you are going through with the media and our fans.” Charles muttered, pulling your hair back with a hand, and holding your waist with the other.
“We missed you,” Max whispered against the other side of your neck.
In a couple of minutes they had you spread open on the sofa, Charles’ head between your legs and Max’s lips latched on to your nipples. They made sure to apologize orgasm after orgasm, cooing your moaning mess and kissing you stupid.
Routine went back to normal after that. You still didn’t name your affair and decided that for now, it was better this way.
With the upgraded car, you actually managed to pick up the pace and find yourself rising up the standings.
Silverstone was promising, being one of your favorite tracks, and one you knew you could win again this year. You did great both of the free practices, trying to keep your focus now more than ever, to get a chance at the championship again. There were specific races that you’d amp up your security team for safety, but Silverstone wasn’t one of them.
Qualifying day, you went to the track early morning, to meet with your team, talk about the results of free practices and your input. As you walked to your garage quietly chatting on the phone, you felt a hand on your arm, pulling you aside. You yelped, jerking around and you ended up facing the person. A man, and it took you a couple of seconds to recognize all the gray hair, but the evil eyes were still very much the same.
It had been more than a decade since you saw your father for the last time. Gasping, you took a step back to walk away, but he gripped your forearm, forcing you back.
Funny how fear worked, you hadn’t seen him for years, and you always imagined that now that you were all grown up, you’d be fearless, a big girl, brave and face your father head on. But it wasn’t how things happened. Immediately your fight or fight kicked in. Your eyes darted around, trying to catch someone you knew or someone from security.
“Let. Go.” You said, with gritted teeth.
“Is that how you greet your father?” He said, and you pulled your hand from his grasp.
“I don’t have one,” you spat, anger rising in your chest, hand in hand with fear. You wanted to bolt, to ban him from your life forever, to cry and shout all at once.
“I made you. I spent thousands investing in your career so you could be here, a little gratitude would be good,” he said with a fake smile, and it disgusted you.
“I’ll never attribute my success to you, you disgusting piece of-”
He held your face with a hand, pressing your jaw with such force that it made you stumble a step back. You gripped his wrist, trying to pull away but he pressed your face harder, pressing your head against the wall.
“Very careful how you speak to me!” He rasped, gritted teeth and all, “you little shit, you think you are better than me? I turned you into who you are! The least you own me-”
“I owe you shit!” You said, and spat on his face.
“I gave money and a house to that whore you called a mother-”
You snapped, getting a hold of the fear, and you punched him in the face, hard enough for him to get away and you get space to run. You took one single step when you stumbled into someone, and your eyes found Max.
It was a brief second between looking at you, looking behind you and recognising your father. Recovering from your punch, your father tried to get to you again, but Max stood between the two of you, pushing your father’s chest so he stumbled back. Charles arrived soon after with security, as Max explained that this man was to be escorted out and never allowed to come back.
“ChĂ©ri, are you ok?” Charles asked, seeing you taking a step back and leaning against the wall.
You nodded, trying to talk but your voice caught on your throat, trying to make sense of what was happening. Your legs gave in and you slid down until you were sitting on the floor.
“Amour, talk to me, hey-” Charles was worried, you were pale and shaking. Max also knelt down beside you, holding your face to try and see if your father had hurt you.
“Get him out,” you said, and Max nodded, going to talk with security.
“Amour-”
“Guys, there’s cameras around the corner!” Lewis showed up out of nowhere.
“I’m fine,” you managed to blurt, holding on the wall to stand up.
“Hey, hey-” Charles tried to hold your arm but you took a step back.
“I’m fine,” you repeated, walking away back into the garage.
Your mind was spinning, all over the place, and through text you told Charles and Max that you were fine and wanted to be alone. The qualifying was a shitshow. Your mind was completely all over the place, and even making it to Q2, you couldn’t go farther than P14, it felt like the car wasn’t responding to your commands.
You came out of qualy completely pissed. At your father, for showing up and ruining your good streak of races. At yourself, for letting him get to your head, for still giving him so much power over you. You walked away without a second thought, went to your room and kicked your boots off.
Press talk was another shit. You couldn’t pay attention to most questions, gave monosyllabic answers, and couldn’t explain why your qualifying performance was so bad compared to the rest of the year.
You just apologized to your team during debriefing, and silently acquiesced to whatever the strategy for the race was. Kimi had texted you asking about what happened, you didn’t want to talk to him just yet.
You were getting ready to leave for the day, when Fernando came into your room.
“I don’t want to talk, Nando,” you held your bag, not even bothering to look at him.
“Good, because I do the talking then. Go, sit down.” He pretty much ordered, his face stony and serious in a way you hadn't seen before. “What happened today?”
“I’ve got a lot going on,” it was all you said.
“Your father showed up, messed with your head and with your confidence,” Fernando said, with the certainty of someone who knew you really well. You wondered if the whole grid knew about your father’s presence today. You gulped. “Look, this is something you will master with time, but I’m going to tell you now. When you put your helmet on and get in the car, you’re a racer, nothing more. Your problems, your worries, they stay back and they never cross your mind for the entirety of the race. Out on the track, you’re one with the car, doing your best is the only thing that matters.” Fernando pressed his index finger softly to your forehead, as if he was quite literally putting it in your head, “Clear. Your. Mind.”
You sniffled, wiping the one tear that came down. Fernando’s face softened, but you knew he wanted only the best for you. And he was right. You kept giving your father this power. You handed him the power. You couldn’t keep letting him get away with it. This was the one thing you knew you were good at, your calling, your destiny and all your hard work. And you’d be damned if your father would keep a hold over your life.
“Clear my mind,” you inhaled, nodding.
You did your best to study your strategy for the day, to focus on what you could do to achieve the best result. 
Early the next morning, you went to the FIA, to request access to the camera footage to find images of the altercation between you and your father the day before. The representative you talked to was initially reluctant but once you told him what had happened, he was quick to help you. You explained that it was for the better that none of that came to light, and hopefully you could get your father to be completely banned from Formula One. The representative prepared a report and assured you that your complaint would be taken seriously and they’d work on the matter as fast and as discreetly as possible.
You went to meet your team and go over and over plan A, B and C. When you got in the car, ready to race, you still hadn’t talked with Max or Charles, and you were hopeful to catch them after. Attaching the helmet, you breathed in, slowly, remembering Fernando’s words.
Clear your mind.
You raced like there was no tomorrow, only thinking of the next turn and the next car you had to overtake, you didn’t think of who it was or when, you just did it. In the future, that race was going down in history as a masterclass in overtaking and taking every little opportunity thrown your way. The time passed really fast, and when you came to be, you heard Jace screaming in your ears that you had made it. You had made it to P1 and taken the checkered flag.
Your voice was shaky as you thanked the team and Jace on the radio.
When you left, running towards your team, they congratulated you and despite the great desire to run towards Max and Charles, who were on the podium with you, you somehow managed to find Fernando. You ran towards him, jumping in his arms, not even minding the way your helmets hit with a loud thud. He hugged you, removing your feet from the ground.
“Thank you! Gracias, muchas gracias, Fernando!” You shouted hoping he could hear you with both visors up.
He patted your shoulder as you had to run back to get weighted and to post-race interview. 
“Wow, I’m at a loss for words right now! You were a true Lioness during this race! Can you tell us what happened after the difficult Qualy yesterday?” Jenson Button was the one to ask.
“I was in a difficult place yesterday, and I’m very thankful for a pep talk Fernando Alonso gave me, that helped me get back into my jam!” You said, breathless, wiping sweat from your forehead, “I’m also grateful to my team for making the car that matched my energy and focus today!”
“And what did Fernando tell you?” Jenson asked, probably out of curiosity.
“Well, I can’t go out telling my secrets, can I? My rivals are all around!” You winked, and left a laughing Jenson behind.
In the cooldown room, where Max and Charles were already watching a montage with all your overtakes on a screen, you walked up to Charles, taking his hand. He looked a little concerned as you had agreed to keep your relationship private. Max joined, patting a hand on your back, and the three of you made a little triangle.
You looked at them with so much adoration, that it hit Max right in the chest and he wanted nothing more than to hold your face and kiss you silly. Charles held his breath for a brief second, being in the moment with the two of you.
“You were brilliant, today,” Charles muttered, low and hoping no mic would catch the sound.
“Unbelievable, Lioness.” Max also said with a discreet wink, then taking a step back and interrupting the moment.
That wasn’t your first podium, nor your first win, but something was different when you kissed the trophy and raised it to the sky. You felt like you’d taken back control of your life and your career. There was nothing that could actually stop you if you put your mind to it, and you knew now. You shitty father couldn’t squander your dreams when you were fourteen, and he couldn’t do it now either. You were so much bigger than him, greater than that pathetic man could ever be.
And you didn’t need him.
You had a mother that, despite not being there anymore, but she’d always be in your heart, a constant source of strength and faith. You had Kimi, who believed you when no one else did, who put his own hand over fire for you. You had Fernando, Seb and Lewis, your idols in this sport, and such good friends. You had Charles and Max, your lovers, and hopefully your future.
That night, as you were laying down in your suite, sandwiched between the two men that stole your heart, came the email with your renewal contract proposition. A five year offer, possible extensions, to make you the face of your McLaren.
You made love with Charles and Max with renewed energy, enjoying yourself and the feel of their love for you. It was just the assurance you needed to say the words.
“I love you. I love you two very much,” you whispered, running your hand through both their hairs, “I can’t promise much right at this moment, like a normal, public, relationship yet, but I do love you.”
“We know. We love you too.” Max whispered and Charles took your hand and kissed your knuckles.
“We love you too much to risk you facing awful dangerous things just so we could call you ours publicly,” Charles agreed.
That year, you didn’t get a second championship as you had dreamed, but you proudly stood with your P2 trophy during the FIA’s Prize Giving Ceremony, your chest swelling with pride as you watched Charles’ beaming face with the P1 trophy.
There was some renewed sense of purpose in yourself as you held the trophy, and in your heart, this one meant just as much as the champion trophy you had gotten the year before. This year you had overcome all the demons that had controlled you for a long time, this year you had not only learned to live with the undying love for your mom, but you had also learned about new forms of love. You had somehow rekindled that love for racing, for believing you were the best and could prove it amidst adversity.
And of course, many adversities were still to come, but now you were sure you had in yourself the power to face them.
When the next season started, you had your eyes on the prize.
Even spending a great amount of winter break with your boyfriends, they were still your rivals on track.
You were fixing your suit on the pitlane when they walked up to you.
“I hope you know this championship is mine,” Max said with a smirk. You caught his playful tone fairly quickly.
“Well, I am the current champion of the world, so we’ll see about that,” Charles crossed his arms.
“Boys, no crying when I leave the both of you eating dust, yeah?” You added, biting back a giggle.
“Baby, go easy on us,” Max joked, and you shook your head.
“Never going easy on my rivals,” You added with a whisper, “not even when they’re my handsome boyfriends.”
“See you after the finish line,” Charles winked, and they both walked away.
“Hope you enjoy the view of my rear!” You said, and they left, laughing.
Always rivals, but much more than that.
NOTE: If you want to know why I chose to end the story this way, or have any questions about the characters future, or any random headcanons, drop by my inbox and I'll try to answer most! Thank you so much for the support in this little adventure! Thank you to everyone who dropped a little ask/message asking for more, I'll try and answer you if I haven't yet! (also, sorry if i missed any tag)
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jamminvroomvroom · 2 years ago
Text
our secret moments.
ln x fem!reader // childhood friend to lovers
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in which you’re friends. best friends. but then you buy a dress for him to take off.
this one is for you guys. thank you for inspiring this, my beloved dress anons. i hope you guys love this as much as i do, and that i got it right for you! obsessed with the concepts and brain rot that went into this aaaaaaa lemme know what you think i beg <3 also sorry if the formatting gets weird, trying out smau elements again :D
songs to set the mood: DRESS by taylor swift
warnings: 18+!! minors dni! smut, oblivious friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, mutual pining, general sex acts, language, an argument
5.6k words
-
your dress sparkles like a mirrorball as the lights flash along the strip.
vegas week begins with a bang; it’s the night of lando’s 24th birthday. the name of your dad’s company is plastered all over the city, as it usually is wherever there’s a race weekend. a round of golf leads to dinner plans and you get dressed up nice with your girlfriends.
you’re almost ready when lando texts you, your friends giving you a look that you brush off when they see the papaya heart next to his name. you tell him you’ll all be ready soon, that’ll you meet him and the boys in the lobby.
high heels sound against the marble floor of the hotel. you walk confidently, tall, scanning for the group of men you’ll be spending the evening with. you spot max fewtrell first, your dear friend here for the occasion, and then ash, who has his back to you. it’s because he’s talking to lando, your best friend, the man that made you fly in to sin city a week earlier than you would have liked.
he’s looking at you before you even see him, watching you walk towards him over ash’s shoulder. he’s checked out from the conversation the second he spots you, glittering under the chandeliers. he can’t breathe, because you’re wearing a dress that renders him somewhere between life and death.
but you’re getting closer, and max, who can see the look on lando’s awestruck face, nudges him so hard in the ribs. he forces himself to inhale, smile, keep breathing.
“good evening, mr norris.” you grin, squeezing his shoulder. “we starting with slots or drinks?”
both is the agreed upon answer, and you let loose in the casino. you watch him roll the dice at one of the game tables, and suddenly, you’re twelve years old again, playing board games on the floor of a hotel room, while your dads talk at the bar downstairs.
your father is, perhaps, the worlds biggest motorsport fan. he’d been sponsoring different series’ since you were little, and he hadn’t stopped expanding as you’d gotten older. that’s how you’d met lando, aged ten years old with braids in your hair, covered in mud, somewhere in the english countryside. you’d been going to kart races since you could walk, and you were sure from the first time you spoke to the small british boy that you’d be destined to meet him. he’d left a mark on you that day, something golden; he radiated sunshine.
your friendship flowed like wine over the years, nice and easy. time on the road with your father meant that lando was the friend you saw the most, and it stayed that way throughout your teenage years. lando’s step up into formula 1 was paired very well with your dad’s investment into mclaren, and five years later, you rarely missed a race.
lando was so easy to be friends with that it was only natural that he was just as easy to love. platonically. you loved him platonically. it was easy to have late night dinner’s with him in his hotel room, easy to walk around the cities you visited with him until your legs hurt, easy to fall asleep on his bed after a netflix binge. so when he told you to pack your bags and be in vegas, it was like he’d pulled an invisible string, because of course, that’s where you would be.
your friend is waving her hand in front of your face when you finally snap out of it. you’ve been staring across the room for god knows how long, and now the girls are laughing at you.
okay, so maybe it’s not just platonically, but you’d rather die than admit it.
“still gonna tell us there’s nothing between you?” nancy, one of your closest friends, teases. your other friend, mia, is giggling beside her. they’d both flown out for the race as well, and had spent the last two years helplessly watching you fall harder and faster.
“shut up,” you whine. “he’s my-“
“best friend.” they both cut you off in unison, mockingly. nancy rolls her eyes.
“he is!” you protest, waving them off.
you leave them in the dust to join the lads at the table. lando’s arm is draped over your shoulder the second you arrive.
“lost your millions yet?” you whisper into his ear. he tuts in response, knowing grin on his face.
“you have no faith in me, honey.” he bumped your hip with his as he spoke.
the game continues, and somehow, much to your surpise, lando gets richer. the walk from the casino to the club is short, and soon enough, you’re drunk and sweating under strobe lights. rounds and rounds of shots disappear and you sink deeper and deeper into the booth you’d reserved.
you let the music thrum through your body, closing your eyes in contentment. a knee nudges yours, and you open your eyes to see lando sliding into the booth next to you. he hands you a drink, and you mouth him a thank you.
“got your eye on anyone here?” lando’s head is resting in the crook of your neck when he asks. it’s obviously just so that you can hear him.
you pull back from him, scanning his face for a moment, really taking him in. the slope of his nose, curls matted on his forehead, grey blue eyes that you swear flit to your lips for just a second. just a brief second. you smile, soft and tired.
“nope.” you mouth back to him. “you?”
lando returns your smile, mirroring you perfectly. he shakes his head.
it’s around 3:30am when you crave the sweet release of sleep. your feet are aching and your head is throbbing. no questions are asked when lando offers you a piggyback ride.
you ignore the way your friends look at you both when he carries you up to your room.
youruser just posted on instagram
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liked by: landonorris, yourfriendnancy, yourfriendmia, maxfewtrell and 378,654 others
youruser: sin city for nozza’s birthday
user: are they together?
otheruser: mother?
landonorris: lost millions.
user2: the photo of the dress next to the photos of lando? she’s tryna tell us something i think.
and 444 other comments
-
you ignore the nausea pooling in the pit of your belly.
apparently, the medical centre isn’t that far away when you sprint there. harsh fluorescent lights greet you when you burst through the door, searching for a mop of curls and a burst of orange. your eyes find adam, lando’s dad, and you rush to his side.
“is he okay?” something about the fear in your eyes makes adam crack a smile. it seems there’s no hiding how you feel from anyone except lando.
“they’re just checking him over now, think they might take him to the hospital, just to be safe.” adam explains. “he was asking for you.” he smiles again.
“so it’s just precautionary?” you ignore the last bit. you ignore the way it makes your stomach twist and your brain fight to keep a smile off of your face.
“you can see him, if you want.” adam gestures towards the nearest examination room.
you’re gone before he can say anything more, bursting into the room without even thinking of knocking.
lando’s pretty much stoned. god knows what they gave him but it seems to be working; he’s propped up on the bed, cracks a sleepy smile when he sees you.
“hey, pretty girl.” he drawls, waving slowly. you pray you’re not blushing.
“scared me out there, you prick.” you joke, but your voice shakes.
“c’mere.” he frowns, so you walk around his bed. he slaps the small spot next to him clumsily, and you perch on the edge of the bed.
lando grabs your hand, pulling you in closer, eyelids drooping as he does it.
“i’m sorry, honey. always wanna race well for you.” lando is pouting. he’s fucking pouting at you.
“hey, hey, it’s fine! as long as you’re okay.”
he nods like a child being told off, but he doesn’t drop your hand. he doesn’t drop it in the helicopter to the hospital, either.
youruser just posted on instagram
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liked by: landonorris, ashjbibby, yourfriendnancy and 344,555 others
youruser: alls well that ends well (but i’m in a new hell every time you go to the hospital)
landonorris: whoops?
user1: THE TAYLOR LYRICS HELLO?
user44: do y’all think we can’t see you.
user2: 3RD SLIDE HELLO?
yourfriendnancy: anyway. the dress ate.
otheruser: @ yourfriendnancy WHAT DO YOU KNOW
and 567 other comments
-
“i just don’t get why you keep wearing the fucking shoes if they hurt so much.” lando bumps your shoulder with his, teasing you.
“sometimes you do what you gotta do for the ‘fit.” you huff, trying to keep up with him.
you’re on your way to dinner with lando, marking your first night in dubai. the restaurant isn’t too far, but your shoes are simply not cooperating. you’d left lando to book a table, knowing that a name drop from him would mean good food and not too many people there to watch you both eat it. after vegas, the rumour mill was working overtime, and you’d had a headache for two days as a result.
none of your other friends have arrived in the emirates yet, so it leaves just the two of you to hang out. it’s something you usually love to do, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, it makes your tummy twist.
you can’t stop thinking about the hospital, your hand in his, the way he’d demanded you accompany him despite the presence of his literal father. you absolutely can’t stop thinking about “pretty girl” or the lazy smile on his face when he said it, like it was what he always called you. he usually sticks to honey, not the most platonic thing in the world, but he said it once and it just stuck.
you’re pulled out of your downward spiral by the way he suddenly comes to a stop in the middle of the pavement. you look at him confused, but then he’s making a suggestion that makes you want to lay done in front of an oncoming ferrari.
“want me to carry your shoes? you can put them on right before we go in.” lando shrugs. you must be blushing by the way he fights off a smile.
“lando, i cannot walk down the streets of dubai shoeless.” you scowl. he chuckles.
“says who? give ‘em here. you can wear mine if you want.” lando reasons, and after staring at him likes he’s grown a second head, you cave.
you start to crouch down but he beats you to it. your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers graze your ankle. you watch in shocked silence as he undoes each clasp, letting you step out of the shoes. the pavement is relatively cool under your feet, and it snaps you out of your state. you decline his offer of his own shoes, and he’s started walking again when you stop him.
“lando, why are you doing this?”
“you took good care of me last weekend. least i can do.” he tells you, and you nod once. “c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he ushers you along and you walk the rest of the way in silence, silver heels swinging in his hand.
youruser just posted on instagram
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liked by: landonorris, maxfewtrell, yourfriendmia and 332,211 others
youruser: dinner w bestie
user: lando took this. bet.
user3: her other friends aren’t in abu dhabi yet she has to be with lando
landonorris: how was dinner?
youruser: @ landonorris u tell me.
user4: a date if i ever saw one?
user63: are we sure they’re not just friends?
user4: @ user63 girl. be so fr
and 329 other comments
-
the restaurant is licensed, so you find solace in a glass of white wine. lando sticks to water.
your mains arrive and you natter back and forth, discussing the end of the season and any gossip you may have acquired. you barely stop laughing, head thrown back every time he opens his mouth. it feels easy again, and you find yourself thawing out, previous worries shoved to the back of your mind.
“so what’s next year looking like? last year of your degree.” lando wiggles his eyebrows, wearing a hint of pride on his face.
“might have to stay away from race tracks for a while. it’s gonna be a busy year.” you sigh. his face obviously falls.
“how long is a while? need my cheerleader.” it’s said in jest, but desperation lies in the outskirts of his voice.
“until the summer break.” you frown. you’d gotten far too comfortable studying on the road.
“can’t you continue as you are? i’m gonna mis- your dad will miss you.” lando corrects himself and your fork clatters against your plate.
“can’t get rid of me too easily, norris.” you clean up the awkward mess before it can even become one, returning to the lighter side of the conversation.
“trust me, i’m not trying to.” he flirts. in jest.
you roll your eyes and gulp down wine.
youruser just posted on instagram
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liked by: landonorris, abudhabigp, yourfriendmia and 543,288 others
youruser: new heights n pretty lights
user2: i know who took 3/4 of these pics.
landonorris: i want that hat back btw
user6: she is the moment
user: mommy? huh who said that?
and 588 other comments
lando.jpg just posted on instagram
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lando.jpg: from the road
oscarpiastri: violation.
youruser: can u send me these. especially the one of oscar :)
user4: WAIT didn’t she post the second one a while? LANDO TOOK IT?
user81: oscar 😭😭
maxfewtrell: why don’t you take nice pictures of me like this?
user11: the wags are fighting omg
and 799 other comments
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your back is to his chest and the music is unbearable. it doesn’t stop you from swaying your hips against his.
nothing beats the abu dhabi grand prix’s after party.
lando stays p6 in the championship, but it’s only by one stupid point. celebration is certainly called for, and you bask in the freedom of the season ending.
you don’t even want to think about the way he hugged you when he got out of the damn car.
so you don’t. you drink and you dance and you beg for someone else to try and take you home so that you can avoid him. you’re scared, fucking terrified, and avoiding him seems like the best option.
that’s until he finds you in the sea of people, because of course he does, and you get closer, closer, closer, until there’s no room for god and his hands are on your hips.
it feels too fucking good to stop, you can’t even compute pulling away, so you let yourself go. what’s the point in trying to hide the way you feel when he’s holding you against his crotch? ah, yes. a cornerstone of friendship.
but it’s too hot and it’s too bright and it’s too loud and the anxiety hits. it hits and you can’t stop the way you freeze up against him. you’re sick to death of pretending. you’re sick to death of nights like this one repeating themselves far too often, only to wake up in the morning and act like it means nothing. like the way he holds you and looks at you and touches you means nothing.
no matter how drunk he is, no matter how far gone he is, he knows you too damn well. he’s spinning you around in his arms and pulling you through the hoards of people.
cool air lands on your flushed skin and you realise you’re in the smoking area. lando looks wrecked, but he’s watching you as intently as he can manage.
“you okay, honey? want me to take you home?” he’s rubbing your arm as he speaks and tears well in your eyes. you’re not entirely sure why.
“stay, i don’t wanna ruin your night.” you croak. you need to get out of there immediately.
“no, no, no, you’re my priority, i’ll call us a driver and w-“
“stop it, lando. i can go back to the hotel alone.” he looks bewildered, and you don’t blame him. you sound harsh, way too harsh considering what he’d offered.
“i should take you.” he replies quietly and you feel bad.
great, now you are crying.
“just- i don’t want this to change, i don’t want us to change and if you keep on like this-“
alas, everything changes, then. every unsaid word is fair game and neither of you are holding back. the shots you’ve thrown back fuel an explosion.
“if i keep on like this? what, you think i don’t see the way you look at me?” lando’s words hit like venom and you’re white hot with embarrassment.
fiery despair hits you and you’re bound to regret every word when you’re sober and sane.
“at least i don’t fuck with your head.”*
“you think that doesn’t fuck with my head? the one woman i- fuck, you know what? it doesn’t matter.” he bites his tongue but you most certainly don’t.
“what? what, lando? as if the way i look at you compares to carrying my shoes and putting me to bed and calling me pretty and every other thing that you do to drive me up the fucking wall.” you spit.
your tears burn your cheeks, you’ve always been an angry crier, and they fall faster when he practically deflates and turns away, disappearing into the club.
you make your getaway, your father’s assistant sends you a car.
you cry yourself to sleep in your hotel room, watching the orange sun rise.
-
the flight home is quiet.
your plans to fly home with lando are abandoned, and you board the earliest flight available.
you never fight with him, so you don’t know how to proceed. everything had changed in a matter of words and you ignore the lump in your throat when you land in miserable, rainy london alone.
you’re surprised to see your dad’s blacked out range rover waiting for you when you get through customs. he’d been on the first flight out of the emirates as soon as the race had finished, and you assumed he’d be asleep for at least a day or two. the man never rests during the season, from the minute the lights go out in bahrain, until the flag falls in abu dhabi. then, he biblically crashes, the excitement and adrenaline hibernating until next year. average behaviour for the world’s biggest motorsport fan.
he’s out the car and opening the boot for you before you even reach him, and he’s pulling you into his fatherly embrace when you finally do. you let out a shaky breath, having been in desperate need of a hug.
“hey, kid.” he mutters into your ear. maybe it’s good to be home.
“what are you doing here?” you ask from the passenger seat, once all of your luggage is packed into the car.
your dad sighs, turning to look at you. you groan, thudding your head against the headrest. you know that look, the one that precedes a motivational speech, a bit of tough love, and usually very sound advice that you never ask for.
“lando called me.” he deadpans. they’d grown somewhat annoyingly close over the years.
“fantastic.” you reply, sarcasm as clear as day.
“he was beside himself. told me what happened.” your dad says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“it’s so, so fine. i don’t wanna talk about this.” your voice trembles and you don’t have the energy to cry anymore.
“there’s nothing wrong with telling him how you feel, sweetheart. don’t throw something away because you’re scared.” and, here we go
 you think.
“i can’t lose him.” you whisper, furiously wiping away the stray tears that fall, staring out the window.
“you won’t lose him if you tell him. trust me, kid. we all see how that boy adores you. no father ever thinks a guy is good enough for their girl, but lando comes pretty damn close.”
“i don’t even know where to begin.” you rub your temples, battling the tension headache you’d developed sometime the night before.
“well, start thinking. you’ve got a week.” you can see your dad smirking from the corner of your eye.
“what?” you blurt, blindsided. you’d need more than a fucking week.
“end of year gala, kid. pick a dress.”
fuck.
-
youruser just posted on instagram
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youruser: commotion for the dress?
yourfriendmia: *commotion*
user5: on my knees begging
user1: no lando like? divorce? 😟
mclaren: always good to see you! 🧡
yourfriendnancy: kicking my feet looking at this lord have mercy
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-
you’re glowing, draped in champagne pink silk.
from the other side of the room, you watch lando, and he watches you. it’s like a game, who’s gonna break first? who’s going to extend the olive branch?
he looks so pretty in his suit that you would cry if there were any tears left in you, if you hadn’t purged them all out of frustration and longing in the week of radio silence.
you’re nursing a glass of champagne, waiting for dinner to start. the room is full of rich people with big ideas, icons of the racing world, both past and present. you make small talk with oscar and his girlfriend, exchange pleasantries with your father’s many friends, and beg that lando makes the first move.
the clinking against a glass indicates that dinner is ready to be served, and you scan the tables for your place card. apparently, the event coordinator has a vendetta against you, because scrawled in deep orange cursive on the place card next to yours is mr lando norris. you scan the room for the nearest exit. your grand scheme to flee in a floor length gown and too high heels is interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping out next to you.
you feel a ghost of breath against your bare shoulder. curls tickle your skin and then, a head rests in the crook of your neck.
he says your name, and the world stops for a second.
“i’m sorry.” lando whispers in your ear, and your heart falls to your stomach.
you whip around, holding him tight as you wrap your arms around him. the tension plaguing your body since abu dhabi dissipates in seconds.
“don’t apologise. just
 i missed you.” you sigh.
“you look
 fuck. you’re gorgeous.” he breathes in your ear. one hand skims low over your waist. something inside of you explodes.
you don’t even try to fight the blush that tinges your cheeks.
someone important is trying to make a toast, so you take your seats. you’re not listening to a word being said, though. you just smile at lando, and lando smiles back.
you’re gonna tell him, you decide. he has to know, although you suspect he already does; you can’t imagine another day without the privilege of him looking at you the way he is right now.
dinner is a breeze. you eat, drink, laugh at the stories exchanged. you remember why you love this world you were raised in, and find yourself grinning mindlessly at your father as he rattles off yet another wild tale from your travels. you’re lucky, you know you are, and it’s reaffirmed when the man sat beside you - who you think you love a bit more than platonically - drapes his arm over the back of your chair.
plates are cleared away and a band starts their set on the makeshift stage. the mtc is lit so beautifully, fairy lights twinkle above you casting dainty light over the makeshift dance floor.
“dance with me.” lando requests. he hates to dance at these functions, so you know the request comes from the heart.
“lead the way.”
he takes your hand and you make your way onto the floor, which is slowly filling up with other couples. his hold is firm, yet gentle, and you lean into him as he keeps you close. eventually, your ear is to his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering away. you melt further into him as the song plays out, and you wish it would play forever.
“we gonna talk about it?” lando murmurs, just loud enough over the music.
“we are.” you mumble against the lapel of his jacket.
“come home with me.”
you nod, inhaling the scent of his cologne; god, how you missed every little part of him.
you keep dancing and dancing, until the champagne runs out and the band starts to pack up.
-
the door slams softly behind you.
lando takes your coat, and you drop your bag on his coffee table. when you turn around to find him, he’s stood in the doorway watching you. there is so much to say, but you can barely form a thought.
“i can’t take this any longer.” lando tells you.
your breath hitches in your throat.
“neither can i.” you whisper.
“we can be more.”
“what do you want us to be?” your chest is tight and you’re looking at him so fucking intensely, desire as clear as day in your eyes.
“you know what i want. and i know you want it too.” he walks towards you slowly as he speaks, footsteps punctuating each word.
“i need to hear you say it.” you breathe. you’re shaking; you’re not sure if it’s the anticipation or the way you’re holding yourself back.
“all i want, all i ever wanted, is you.” he’s right in front of you and his hands are on your waist. you’re tingling everywhere.
lando’s nose bumps yours. you’re scanning his face, every line, freckle, slope that maps him out. he can’t help but look at your lips, darkened eyes flitting over your face. all you can hear is shaky breaths, and perhaps your heartbeat ringing in your ears.
“can i
?” lando mutters.
you close the gap some more, lips brushing his.
“of course you can.”
he kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find his neck, gently pressing your fingertips into his skin. lando’s frantic, passionate, oh so careful as he deepens the kiss, pulling you somehow closer. you hum in surprise, and you feel him smirking. he’s moving hungrily, and you’re starving, impatient when your hands find his curls. the groan he emits at the sensation makes you ache for him all over.
you’re both panting when you pull away, the urgency to breathe the only thing stopping you. the relief you feel is astronomical, your lips lock perfectly and he feels wondrous under your explorative hands. he smiles wide and you grip his collar, pressing your forehead against his.
“i was gonna tell you, and then you turned up looking like this
 fuck.” lando groans, and you can’t help but lean up into him once more.
the kiss is slower this time, languid, and he licks slowly into your mouth. his pupils are blown when you break apart and his eyes flutter open. your thighs clench under your dress.
“so, you like the dress?” you giggle incredulously, buzzing from the interaction. lando looks at you like you’re stupid.
“you look
” he runs his eyes over you, pausing mid sentence tentatively.
“say it.”
“fucking incredible.”
“thanks. bought it with you in mind.” you tease, smirking coyly.
his jaw goes slack; you can see him mentally undressing you, and then he’s kissing you all over again.
his bedroom isn’t far, but he insists on carrying you there, sweeping you up into his arms. he peppers kisses over your neck, kicking the door open with his dress shoe.
lando places you on your feet at the foot of his bed, smoothing his hands over the curve of your waist, the silk of your dress. he tucks your hair behind your ears, drawing you close once more as he does, cupping your face in large, calloused hands.
“what do you want tonight?” lando asks, searching your face for any sign of hesitancy.
“need you. all of you.” you keen into his touch, and his breath hitches in his throat.
“we’ll go slow.” he murmurs.
“no.” you shake your head, and his hands drop from your face. “don’t want to hold back anymore.” he finds your ass, grazing his fingers upwards until he finds the fastening of your dress. you maintain eye contact while he drags the zip down, shivering as your hear the faint buzz of the metal.
lando stops, just for a second in an attempt to compose himself.
“take it off. bought it so that you could take it off.” your brutal honesty breathes some urgency into him.
he keeps his eyes on yours as the silk falls off your body, pooling at your feet. the cool air brushes your skin - covered only by lacy panties and stilettos - but his touch warms you when he grabs your waist. lando walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed. he places you on the bed, on top of you like a shot, kissing you into the mattress.
he clambers off of you, sliding down your body until he reaches your heels. kisses trail up your legs while he takes them off, the thud of them hitting the floor making you jump. anticipation pools in your barely there underwear; he can see you, all of you, and he cannot bring himself to look away.
“careful with those, they were expensive.” you joke, but your voice sounds wrecked already. you can’t even imagine how you’ll sound when he’s done.
“i have different priorities right now.” he flashes a grin and you lose him between your legs.
your underwear stay on when he dives into your pussy, teeth scraping over your covered folds. he can definitely taste you already, stuttering out a moan as he casts his tongue over you. you sink deep into the sheets, bucking your hips into his face, but his hold on you is firm and you have to relent. he lets go of you for a moment, just to pull your panties down, and as soon as they’re gone, he’s delving deep into you.
the sounds he’s making are obscene, his entire face buried away. lando flicks his tongue over your clit, beginning an extended assault on your nerve endings, sucking hard and fast until you whimper his name. a knot forms in your core.
lando takes his mouth off of you, lips slick and glistening. he swipes his tongue over them, sitting back on his haunches. he begins rolling his sleeves up, and you manage to push yourself up so that you’re resting on your elbows. you reach out to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt, leaving his torso exposed to you. you rake your nails over his abs, transfixed on the way he tenses, shudders under your touch. once his sleeves are out of his way, he pushes you back. your hair fans out around you as he resumes his position between your legs.
one finger ghosts over your clit, poking and tracing the bud. you’re reeling, writhing at the feeling of everything and almost nothing at all. he drags the digit down until he finds your entrance, abandoning the teasing and slipping it inside of you. he twists his wrist, adding a second finger, grinding them deep. he’s slow with it, watches the way your face twists in euphoria, finding a deep sense of pride in the way he makes you shake.
“you have no fucking idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” his words have you clamping down on him, fucking yourself onto his hand.
“the feeling’s mutual.” you gasp.
lando cocks an eyebrow. he scales your body until he’s hovering over you again, fingers still working in and out of you. the angle change is delightful, your back arching and your nipples harden as they skim his bare chest.
“is it, honey? was it mutual all those nights i pictured you next to me, right on this bed? all those nights i watched you dance in your short skirts? all those nights i carried you to bed and wished i could stay?” he whispers right into your ear. his fingers speed up.
“fuck, lando. yes.” you cry, mouth hanging slack.
“tell me. tell me how mutual it was and i’ll let you come, pretty girl.” he teases; goosebumps litter your skin. there he goes again with pretty girl. this fucking man.
“always wanted more
 was too scared to ask for it.”
“oh?” he coos, mockingly.
“couldn’t lose you if you didn’t want me.” you pant. a weight lifts off your chest as you let the words slip, his efforts sending you hurtling towards an orgasm.
“not going anywhere.” he kisses the base of your throat. “ever.” he punctuates, thumb sliding over your clit. “let go, love.”
the wave of pleasure crashes on your shores and it doesn’t stop, rippling through your belly and down into your toes. lando’s name falls from your lips like a sin, over and over until you can’t even hear yourself anymore.
lando’s smiling when you come down, small and knowing. he pecks your lips, once, twice, humming into the kiss when your hands find a home under his shirt. it’s unbuttoned already, so it slides over his bronzed shoulders easily. you hear it thud softly when it hits the floor.
“what?” you catch him looking at you, giddy.
“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” he grins. his words overwhelm you.
“i know.” you beam up at him bashfully.
he undresses himself and then the wait is over, and god knows it was a long one. he finds home between your thighs, runs his cock through your folds.
“you sure?”
“don’t make me wait any longer.” you insist.
it takes you a moment to adjust; he strokes your walls nice and deep and you feel everything he has to offer you. it’s surreal, really, stretching around him like this. you’d only ever daydreamed of the possibility, and now that it’s happening you can’t quite believe it. he moans low, forehead resting on yours. you watch his eyes roll back when he bottoms out.
your lip is quivering; it’s too intense, he’s too good. he takes it slow, just like he’d insisted, but he grinds deep, long strokes making you dizzy. you leave imprints of crescents in his shoulder blades, marking his pristine skin.
you can’t take much more of this, his hips hitting yours at such a delectable pace. he drags in and out, building a blissful rhythm and you’re whimpering into his neck. your teeth dig into the muscled plane of skin, minimal pressure applied, and his thrusts turn erratic, curses tumbling freely from his pink parted lips. it makes you squirm, spilling all over him, white hot and wet.
lando collapses into your damp body, the room is humid. you drag your nails through his hair, pushing the sweat slicked curls off of his forehead, and then your hand thuds lazily against the pillow.
“i’m done pretending.” he mumbles. “i’m yours.”
the last few years of your life flash before your eyes. you think back to his buzz cut and every time you’d failed to rebound. you think of bleached hair and lies about love and how he always saw the best in you. you think of nothing but him, you, together. he’s carved into you now, you think he always has been.
you fall asleep happy. you’ll wake up by his side and then you’ll do it the morning after, and the one after that too.
-
youruser just posted on instagram
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liked by landonorris, mclaren, francisca.gomez, lilymhe and 735,641 others
youruser: our secret moments
landonorris: “only bought this dress so you could take it off” đŸ•șđŸ»âœšđŸ’˜
youruser: @ landonorris omg shut up (omw over)
user1: FINALLY
user4: bisexual panic is a real thing.
otheruser: i used to pray for times like these
maxfewtrell: took you long enough.
yourfriendmia: mum n dad
user63: mclaren ships it and so do i
and 1,442 other comments
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crxwn-06 · 23 days ago
Text
NOSTALGIA
Yandere!Platonic!batfam x f!Hawkeye!reader: your life is all good, in the end. You have a loving father, awesome siblings, excellent grades, a good group of friends and a talent for archery, enough to almost convince your father to let you start being a vigilante. But when your mother tries to get back into said life you start to realise that, maybe, you were just living in a pretty cage.
Chapter 1: another fortnight lost in America
prologue , chapter one, chapter two, 

IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST, LEAVE A COMMENT <3!
Tw: yandere tendencies, mention of blood, violence
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The walk back to the mansion is slow and unhurried, the kind of pace that only comes when you don’t feel the need to fill the silence—though, as always with Dick, silence never really lasts long. He falls into step beside you naturally, like he never left, like he’s always been just a few inches away. The two of you meander along the stone path, the soft crunch of gravel under your boots barely audible beneath the quiet rhythm of your conversation.
You talk—about training, about the latest Robin mishap, about Alfred scolding Duke for leaving his cape on the banister again—and Dick chimes in with the easy rhythm of someone who knows the players, knows the stakes, and, more importantly, knows you. His jokes are perfectly timed, his insights sharp but never overwhelming. He listens like it matters. He laughs like he’s missed this.
There’s something calming about it. This is what you’ve always loved most about him—how he makes even the smallest things feel like shared secrets.
«I need to fix these arrows» you mutter after a while, shifting the worn bundle you’ve been carrying under your arm. «I’ll have to order some new pins. These are getting too old.»
Dick looks over, raising an eyebrow. «Why don’t you just get new ones completely? Wouldn’t that be, y’know
 easier?»
You scoff, as if he’s just suggested you throw away a family heirloom. «Pfft. Please. Every archer who’s worth something builds their own arrows. Besides, when I build them myself, I can modify them exactly how I want. Adjust the weight, change the fletching, switch out the heads depending on what kind of job it is. Off-the-rack stuff is for amateurs.»
Dick hums in approval, clearly impressed. «Well, excuse me, Miss Artisan. Didn’t realize you were out here custom-crafting your own arsenal.»
You shrug, but there’s pride in it. «Dad always says: your tools should feel like an extension of your body. If something’s off by even a centimeter, it could cost you.»
Dick’s smile dims just slightly, the corners softening with something closer to reverence. He doesn’t say it out loud, but you can see it in his expression: He’s proud. Proud of your skill. Proud of your focus. And maybe just a little shaken by how much you’ve grown into this life.
«How long have you been working on your own arrows?» he asks, and it’s not small talk anymore—it’s genuine interest. The kind of question someone asks when they want to memorize the answer.
You grin, gaze drifting upward toward the fading light pouring through the manor’s tall windows. «Since I was fourteen. I started sneaking into the forge when everyone was asleep. Tim caught me once and bribed me for two weeks to keep it quiet.»
Dick chuckles. «Sounds about right.»
By the time you reach the doors, the sky behind you has begun to blush with dusk, and the manor glows golden from within. He opens the door for you, hand lingering at the frame as he watches you step inside. You don’t notice how his eyes stay on you just a second too long. How his jaw tightens slightly, protectiveness flickering just behind the warmth.
To you, it’s just another conversation. Another easy walk back inside. To him, it’s another reminder that you’re growing sharper. Stronger. Braver.
And further from the version of you he used to carry on his back.
He dislikes it.
You and Dick are still laughing as you step into the manor, the hallway glowing with the last warmth of the afternoon sun streaming in through tall windows. There’s a rare ease between you—a rhythm you fall into whenever he’s around, as if no time has passed at all. He’s halfway through teasing you about your arrow modifications when a clipped voice cuts through the air like a throwing blade.
«TT. Don’t you have your own home, Grayson?»
You stop mid-step, instantly recognizing the tone. Damian, standing halfway down the staircase, arms crossed over his chest, looking down at the two of you like a judge delivering sentence. His glare is directed solely at Dick, sharp and cold, even though you can sense what lies underneath it: irritation. Something fiercely territorial.
Before either of them can escalate, you chuckle and step toward him. «Dami» you sigh fondly, reaching up to ruffle his hair. He glares at your hand, but doesn’t move away. Instead, he steps into your side and wraps his arms around your waist—firm, possessive, unrelenting.
His message is silent, but clear: mine.
As he leans into you, he throws a pointed, smug look toward Dick. It’s the kind of expression that says, she stays here. With me. Not with you. Not out there where it’s dangerous.
«C’mon, Dami» you tease gently, running your fingers through the hair he still pretends not to like being touched. «Be nice.»
«I am nice» he huffs, tilting his head up at you. «You’re just excessively so. It’s inefficient.»
Dick snorts from behind you. «Having manners is inefficient» he mutters.
But there’s something beneath Dick’s voice too—something quieter, sharper. He’s smiling, yes, but his eyes never leave Damian’s arms around your waist. And not in jealousy. In worry. In calculation. The kind that never really turns off in his mind.
Because he knows. He knows how attached Damian is. How he watches you like a hawk when you move through the manor, how he shadows your steps during training, how he always seems to position himself between you and any potential threat—including, sometimes, him. And Dick doesn’t doubt that, if it came to it, Damian would go through anyone who endangered you. Even their own family.
But what Damian doesn’t understand is that Dick sees the other danger—the one no one talks about. Not villains or missions or rooftop ambushes. No, the real danger is you changing. Growing up. Moving past the version of you that needed carrying home from scrapes. Past the time when you’d run into his arms without hesitation. The more capable you become, the more you want to join them in the field, the less control he has—and that terrifies him in a way he doesn’t know how to admit.
So his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he steps a little closer. «I was just keeping her company, Damian. You know, in case one of those wild training arrows found a new target.»
Damian doesn’t blink. «I can protect her.»
«I know» Dick says, and it’s almost gentle. Too gentle.
But what he doesn’t say out loud is I don’t trust anyone else to.
You’re caught between them now—one arm wrapped around your waist, the other standing just close enough to shield you from something invisible. Two different kinds of protectiveness.
Damian’s is sharp, immediate, and openly possessive. A warning growl before a bite.
Dick’s is quieter, colder. Not a growl—but a net. Spread wide. Carefully constructed. A constant calculation of every possible threat, including what happens if he lets go.
They both love you.
They both need you close, for entirely different reasons.
And as you herd them both down the hall toward dinner, sighing in mock exasperation, you can feel it in the way they walk on either side of you—like twin shadows.
Neither of them say it aloud, but they’re both thinking the same thing: She’s safest with me.
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Damian Wayne has always known—knows—that the connection between you and him runs deeper than the ones you share with the others. It’s not a matter of jealousy, not really. It’s something else. Something innate. Undeniable.
He prides himself on it, as he does with most things that matter. You and he are not just siblings. You are connected by blood—Father’s blood. The only two children born directly of Bruce Wayne’s lineage, forged by legacy and legacy alone. What bond could be stronger than that?
To him, it’s obvious. Natural. You are his.
His sweet older sister—gentle in your gaze, sharp in your mind, and warm in a way no one else has ever truly been to him. You didn’t speak down to him when he arrived at the manor, bristling with arrogance and centuries of League indoctrination. You didn’t flinch from him when he tried to assert dominance, the way most people did.
No—you laughed.
He remembers that day vividly. The day he first saw you. You moved through the manor like you had nothing to prove and nothing to fear, and he—young, prideful, still drowning in his own armor—made the mistake of testing you. A surprise attack, a strike from the shadows—swift, precise, and perfectly aimed.
You dodged.
Effortlessly. Smoothly. As if you had expected it (had father warned you?). As if you’d been watching him longer than he realized.
And then, some hours later, without so much as glancing over the balcony, you flicked a coin down from three floors above. It struck him square in the forehead.
He’d blinked in shock, hand rising to his head, not entirely believing it had happened. And you—unbothered, still walking—had simply called back, telling him to calm down.
He didn’t. Not right away. But that was the moment it began.
That tiny, humiliating flash of defeat curdled into respect. And that respect—over time—hardened into something much deeper.
Now, years later, he no longer sees you as someone above him in the hierarchy. You are not just an older sister, not just another Wayne under the manor roof. You are his person. The one who understands the weight of expectation. The one who speaks to him without flinching. The one who never tried to fix him—because you never saw him as broken in the first place.
He told himself it was strategic at first. Tactical. You were the strongest ally in the manor. The only one he wouldn’t truly outpace or outwit. But deep down, even then, he knew that wasn’t why he gravitated to your side during training. Why he sought you out at night under the guise of patrolling the manor. Why your praise meant more than Father’s—more than anyone’s.
Because no matter how often Dick smirks at him or Tim acts like he’s a puzzle to solve, or Jason throws barbed jokes that mask something softer—you’ve always been constant. Protective, yes. But never patronizing. Stern when needed, kind when undeserved.
In his world of conditional affection, you were unconditional. And that is something Damian Wayne does not take lightly.
He knows the others love you, in their own flawed, fractured ways. But to him, you are blood. The thread of his lineage. The only person who has ever made him feel like he was more than the weapon he was built to be.
And if he has to glare, growl, and stand too close to remind everyone—especially Grayson—of that fact?
So be it.
Because while the others orbit your world, Damian? He lives in it.
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Dinner unfolds with the kind of rare ease that doesn’t come often in the Wayne household—everyone gathered, warm food shared, the sound of forks clinking and laughter echoing softly through the manor’s vast dining room.
Bruce sits at the head of the table, silent but present, his watchful eyes moving from face to face. He doesn’t speak much, but his silence tonight is gentler than usual, his gaze lingering just a few seconds longer on you.
To his right, Dick leans back in his chair, teasing Tim about something he did during training, hands flying with exaggerated gestures. You sit at Bruce’s left, calmly sipping your water, smiling at the chaos as Damian—seated protectively at your side—glares daggers at anyone who interrupts your meal or your space. Across from him, Tim rolls his eyes every time Damian opens his mouth, while Duke, somewhere at the far end, tries to keep things from devolving into a full-blown philosophical debate about whose suit color is the most tactical.
It feels normal. Almost domestic.
For a moment, it’s easy to pretend there’s no darkness outside. No masks waiting in the Cave. No weight pressing silently on your father’s shoulders.
When the plates are cleared and the evening winds down, you make your rounds—like you always do. Hugs are exchanged with a grin and a tired “good night,” your arms thrown around Dick with practiced ease, brushing a hand across Duke’s shoulder, dodging Tim’s half-hearted attempt to escape affection, and tugging Damian toward you with a knowing look until he begrudgingly lets himself be hugged—only to hold on half a second longer than he means to.
You turn to Bruce last. He doesn’t stand, but he nods, the barest flicker of something warm crossing his face. «Sleep well» he says quietly.
«You too» you reply, already halfway toward the stairs.
You disappear into your room, the hall closing behind you, and the house exhales.
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It’s late when Bruce comes.
The manor is dark, the moonlight stretching long across the hardwood floors. He doesn’t announce himself, doesn’t knock. He doesn’t need to.
He opens your door with the same quiet control he uses on rooftops and crime scenes—calculated, careful. You’re fast asleep, the blanket pulled high, one arm half-draped across your pillow, breathing steady and soft.
For a moment, he simply watches.
There’s something raw in his eyes. A mixture of pride and fear, quiet and ever-burning. The kind that doesn’t show in daylight.
He steps closer. He brushes a hand over your head—just once. His glove is off, fingers gentle. He lingers there, eyes scanning your face as if memorizing it all over again. Your peace. Your stillness. The proof that—for tonight at least—you’re safe.
He doesn’t speak. But his presence says it all.
Stay like this.
Let me keep you like this.
Just a little longer.
Then, without a sound, he pulls away. Leaves the way he came. Silent as the shadows that made him.
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Was gonna write more, but then I realized I was yapping SO MUCH. It’s a problem guys it really is

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE SHOWED ON THE PROLOGUE 💜💜
Taglist: @mazixxss @tenshi444 @cynnie @trashlanternfish360
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duvetchico · 3 months ago
Text
we’re not each other’s, but god, we could’ve been.
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summary y/n and yunjin are besties who are way too not platonic for people who aren’t dating. they hang out constantly, act like a couple, do all the little things together
 but at the end of the day? they’re not actually together. because they both have their own partners.
genre platonic angst / slow heartbreak / quiet realizations / unspoken feelings / jealousy / emotional repression / yunjin being an idiot (affectionate)
pairing platonic!huh yunjin x fem!reader
masterlist.
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you’re not really sure when it started. maybe it was the first time yunjin grabbed your hand without thinking. or maybe it was when she started leaning her head on your shoulder like it belonged there. maybe it was when you started looking at her like she hung the damn moon—then remembered she had someone else waiting for her at home.
tonight’s no different.
you’re both sitting on your shared spot at the rooftop, shitty convenience store snacks between you, stars above you, and her hoodie on you. of course it’s her hoodie. you didn’t even ask—she just threw it over your head like always.
“you’re eating the strawberry one again?” yunjin scoffs, eyeing the pocky box in your hand.
“yes, strawberry supremacy bitch,” you reply with a full mouth, flicking a stick crumb at her. she glares but it’s all fondness.
she takes one anyway.
you don’t talk about your days anymore. not since she started seeing her. not since you tried and failed to move on and ended up with someone who doesn’t get why you laugh before the punchline of a joke.
but you still sit here like this, every tuesday night. still laugh, still share snacks, still fall asleep with your heads tilted toward each other like you’re scared of missing the other’s dream.
"you're cold," she murmurs, noticing your hands tucked under your thighs.
"and yet you refuse to let me steal your body heat. fake friend," you whisper, dramatic as hell.
she sighs. “come here, you clown,” and pulls you into her side anyway. your cheek ends up against her collarbone. her arm wraps around you like she forgot you’re not hers to hold.
you pretend your heart doesn’t do that stupid thing.
"your heartbeat's fast," she mumbles into your hair.
"so is yours," you shoot back, and it's the softest kind of war.
later, you walk her home.
not your home. her home.
her girlfriend’s home.
chaewon's home
she holds your hand until the last block like she always does. it’s instinct now. like breathing. or lying.
you let go first. always.
"see you next tuesday?" she asks, like there’s any other answer.
"of course."
you both smile. she leans in, forehead nearly bumping yours. “don’t fall in love with me,” she teases, grinning.
“too late,” you joke back, lighthearted. too light. too fake.
you wave, then turn around before she can see the way your smile drops.
your apartment feels too quiet after her.
yujin's already asleep, her arm loosely draped over the pillow where your thoughts used to be. you stare at the ceiling, and for some reason, you think about how yunjin hates canned tuna but eats it anyway if it’s in your lunchbox.
you think about how she once sat on the bathroom floor with you while you cried over something you couldn’t explain. how she hummed a taylor swift song until your breathing evened out.
you think about the way she kissed chaewon once right in front of you. how your chest cracked open like a dropped vase and you still smiled anyway.
you meet again. same rooftop. same snacks. different kind of silence.
“i think i’m gonna move in with her,” she says quietly, like it’s a test.
your stomach sinks. it actually sinks.
you fake a grin. “about damn time. you guys are like
 disgustingly domestic.”
she laughs, but there’s something sad in her eyes. “you think so?”
“totally. you're like one tote bag and a potted plant away from being legally married.”
silence again. except now it’s louder.
she brushes a crumb off your cheek. your breath catches.
“sometimes,” she whispers, “i think we’re more of a couple than me and her.”
you look away.
"but we’re not,” you remind her, gently.
“yeah.” she pulls her hand back. “we’re not.”
when she leaves that night, you don’t walk her home.
you can’t.
one night, you skip tuesday.
she texts you.
yunjin
where are you?
y/n
tired. next week?
-
she doesn’t reply.
you bump into her a week later at a cafe. her girlfriend’s with her.
you’re with yours.
your eyes meet across the room. she smiles. you do too. your respective partners don’t notice.
but for a second, it feels like a breakup you never got to have.
months pass.
you don’t text. she doesn’t either.
but sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night, craving strawberry pocky, hoodie too big on your shoulders, and you wonder if she's still sitting on rooftops alone.
and sometimes, just sometimes, you check your phone expecting a "you up?" text. it never comes.
until one day, it does.
“you still like strawberry?"
you grin. your heart cracks open again, but this time, it doesn’t hurt as much.
“always. bring choco for yourself. see you tuesday?”
“see you.”
-
it’s a tuesday night and you’re both back at your usual spot. same bench, same dumb vending machine behind you, same overpriced convenience store ramen steaming between you.
you laugh when yunjin complains about how she still can’t use chopsticks properly, and you steal her fishcake when she’s not looking. she pretends to be mad, but she’s not. you know she’s not.
she always lets you take the good bites.
"you’re such a bitch," she mumbles, flicking your forehead lazily. and you’re like, "you sound like a boyfriend when you say that."
the silence after is sharp. it cuts too quick. too deep.
she’s staring at you now, fishcake halfway to her mouth, frozen like you just said something unforgivable.
but you didn’t.
you were just being honest.
because she does sound like a boyfriend. because she does treat you like she’s yours. because she is yours, in every way that doesn’t matter on paper but means the entire fucking world to you.
"i didn’t mean it like that," you try, but you’re not even sure if you’re lying.
"i know," she says, and her voice is too soft. "i know."
later, she drops you off outside your apartment like always. no kisses. no goodnights. not even a hug this time.
her phone buzzes in the cup holder. you already know it’s chaewon.
you stare at your front door like it’s supposed to feel like home, but all you can think is.
you didn’t even get to say goodbye.
next day, yunjin sends you a dumb meme and says she misses your face.
you reply with "lol stfu" and a selfie of you looking half-dead from class.
she sends back a picture of her holding her lunch like it’s your shared child. caption: "say hi to our son."
you laugh.
you cry a little.
you pretend it’s from the spice of your tteokbokki.
you’re out shopping for snacks when you run into her by accident.
she’s with her girlfriend.
you smile. wave. pretend you’re totally fine.
she introduces you. chaewon shakes your hand and says, "oh, you’re the one she’s always with."
and you feel like throwing up.
you nod and say something about how yunjin never shuts up about her too.
when you part ways, yunjin gives you that look. the one that says she knows you’re hurting. the one that says she wants to reach out and fix it.
but she doesn’t.
she just walks away holding someone else’s hand.
you see her again two nights later.
just you and her this time.
sitting on the floor of your living room, watching reruns of dumb shows, wrapped in a blanket that’s too small for two.
"i saw you guys," you say quietly. "at the store."
she freezes. then nods. "yeah."
you stare at the tv screen.
"do you love her?"
she doesn’t answer.
you think that’s an answer in itself.
"do you love me?"
she exhales shakily. "don’t do this."
"why not?" you ask, and your voice cracks a little. "why shouldn’t i?"
she closes her eyes. then, almost whispering, she says, "because i don’t want to lie to you."
and that? that breaks you in half.
you both sleep in the same bed that night.
you don’t touch.
you don’t talk.
but you wake up at 3am and see her turned toward you, eyes barely open, whispering, "i wish we met at a different time."
you don’t respond.
you just close your eyes again and pretend she’s yours for a little longer.
-
it's another tuesday night.
same dumb bench. same vending machine that only ever gives you the wrong drink. same overpriced convenience store ramen steaming between you.
except this time, there’s no laughter. no forehead flicks. just silence.
your chopsticks tap against the plastic bowl as you try to eat, but your appetite’s long gone. yunjin’s next to you, too still, too quiet, staring down at her cup noodles like they personally offended her.
"you didn’t text me back yesterday," you say. it’s casual. like it doesn’t matter.
she blinks. then shrugs. "yeah. sorry."
you nod. you don’t know what else to say.
the last time you saw her, she told you she didn’t want to lie to you.
she hasn’t lied since.
but she also hasn’t said anything at all.
you’re the one who invited her tonight, like always. and she said yes, like always. but this time, the weight between you isn’t comforting.
it’s unbearable.
"i broke up with chaewon."
you snap your head toward her. her voice is soft. almost apologetic.
"what?"
"last night."
you stare. for a second, you think you misheard. then it sinks in. your heart does a full-on gymnastics routine in your chest.
"why?"
"you know why."
you go quiet. the ramen between you is starting to get cold.
"she’s a good person," she says, almost like a confession. "but she wasn’t you."
you don’t know how to respond to that.
then, after a long pause, you whisper, "i broke up with yujin."
yunjin’s eyes widen. she turns to face you fully. "when?"
"this morning."
"...why?"
you smile a little. it’s tired. sad. but real. "you know why."
her lips part like she’s about to say something, but she doesn’t. instead, she stands up suddenly and grabs your hand, pulling you up with her.
"come with me."
"where—?"
"just come."
you’re breathless, still gripping onto your half-eaten ramen cup, but you follow her anyway. she drags you down the street like it’s urgent, like this moment might slip away if she slows down.
you end up back at her car, parked in the usual spot. she throws open the door, gestures at the passenger seat.
"get in."
"yunjin—"
"shut up and get in."
you do.
you don’t know what’s happening until she’s speeding down the highway, windows cracked, music playing way too loud for this hour. her hand reaches over blindly, finding yours and squeezing tight.
"i thought we’d never get out of that loop," she yells over the wind. "you know? always being almost."
"we were always more than almost," you yell back.
she glances at you. smiles. and it’s real this time. the kind that reaches her eyes.
"i know."
you drive for an hour with no destination. the sky is bruised with early morning light when she finally pulls over at some empty overlook, both of you sitting on the hood of her car with cheap gas station snacks between you.
neither of you talk for a while.
then, she says, "i used to imagine this."
"what?"
"us. like this. actually together."
you don’t say anything. just nod. because you used to imagine it too.
she turns her head toward you. "can i—"
you’re already kissing her.
it’s messy and tired and tastes like strawberry pocky and sleep deprivation. but it’s also everything. it’s her hands on your cheeks, yours in her hair, her laughing mid-kiss because she’s so nervous and giddy and it’s real this time.
"so," you say against her lips, pulling back just enough to breathe, "what now?"
"now?" she grins. "we stop pretending."
you lean your head on her shoulder. she wraps her arm around you, pulls you in like she’s been dying to.
the sun’s rising.
the world’s waking up.
and for once, you don’t care who sees.
you’re hers.
she’s yours.
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