#lightly shade here and there

[purarupu]

「 kafhime: four seasons with you 」

[fuumiku]

Mickbell Tomas it seems I’ve grown quite fond of you you come to me as a long lost friend whom I once picked apples with in papa’s orchard

I headcanon his nose scrunches up and he bites his tongue sometimes when he’s reallyyy laughing… And he’ll snort sometimes of course. Free serotonin. Yk I connected the dots recently that since my twst 2nd top fave is Ruggie it was truly only a matter of time before the Mickbell brainrot got to me. Little "shhh-shh-shhh" laughs please and thank you

[luck-of-the-drawings]

I LOOOVE LOVE ALL THE NPCS IN PRIME DEFENDERS!! THEYRE EACH SO UNIQUE AND COOL, WITH THE GREATEST THING YOU CAN POSSIBLY GIVE TO SUPER HEROS IN A SUPER HERO UNIVERSE: WAAACKY FUCKIN SUPER POWERS!! (MADE WITH ONLY PEN AND COLORED PENCILES, MISTAKES CORRECTED WITH PAPER N GLUE)

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

miss possessive // bob reynolds

Summary: Valentina’s new assistant becomes too fixated on Bob for your linking, and it seems that she needs a reminder that she has to keep her hands off your man.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Thunderbolts!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: established relationship, possessiveness, new girl is a bit too touchy with bob, confident!bob at the end!!

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. I'm sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors. Unbeta'd.

Inspired by the song "Miss Possessive" by Tate McRae

marvel masterlist | main masterlist

Valentina's PR galas, which you were forced to attend, were undoubtedly your least favorite events.

You could even argue that the rest of the Thunderbolts —now known as ‘The New Avengers’— agreed with you. 

Dressing up in your finest attire, putting up a polished facade for investors and the press, while congressmen charmed their way through speeches, smiles carefully crafted for the cameras, and photo ops meticulously staged. Everything felt like an elaborate performance, a meticulously curated show designed to impress and persuade. Nonetheless, you understood it was part of the job — part of the game Valentina played so expertly.

“Can’t we just stay here and watch a movie?”

Bob had the worst time at these events. In the early months and at the first gatherings you were invited to, you managed to persuade Valentina to let him stay back at the tower. But your coaxing didn’t last forever. 

“It’ll be over before you know it,” you assured him, offering a comforting smile, though both of you knew the truth.

“I just wish I could skip the whole thing sometimes.”

You reached out, giving him a warm smile, and gently took his hand in yours. “I know, babe.”

He squeezed your hand tenderly, his eyes shining with affection. “You look beautiful,” he mumbled softly. His eyes flickered up and down, appreciation evident on his face. “Red really suits you.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you gazed at him with a small, satisfied smile on your lips, smoothing a few strands of hair out of your face.

“Thank you, baby.” You stepped closer, narrowing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “It would look even better on the floor of your bedroom later tonight,” your voice lowering to a sultry whisper as you pressed your lips against his ear.

You drew back just enough to gauge the reaction your words provoked in him — his eyes widened, cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red.

The grin on your face grew broader.

He was adorable.

Bob's cheeks reddened further, and he let out a shy laugh that made your heart flutter. “You’re terrible,” he mumbled, his arm instinctively enveloping your waist in a firm but gentle embrace, holding you close.

“You love it,” you teased lightly, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

Another thing you didn’t like about these galas was the necessity of hiding your relationship with Bob. Not being able to kiss him or hold his hand all night was the toughest part.

It was not a secret that you two were dating — at least for the rest of the team. But in Valentina’s and the government’s lexicon, “It’s not good press that there’s a romance within the team.” Whatever that meant, neither of you understood. The implication sat thick in the air, a silent judgment of your affection.

A very long night lay ahead of you.

You hated Valentina’s new assistant. 

Since Mel had finally received the promotion she had deserved—and had worked for—Valentina decided to bring someone new onboard to fill her old position.

And that someone was Gretchen.

Gretchen was everything Mel wasn’t — and not in the way that was admirable. But that wasn’t the basis for your dislike; it was her unhealthy fixation with Bob, which began the moment she stepped out of the Watchtower elevator.

From that first glance, her infatuation was painfully obvious. She watched him with an intense, almost obsessed expression, making up excuses to get close to him, to touch him, and to be near him.

And that made your blood boil.

No, it wasn’t jealousy.

You trusted Bob more than anyone else. Gretchen was fighting a lost battle; she couldn't compete with what you shared with him. However, seeing her deliberately seek opportunities to get close to him, her persistence crossing boundaries, wore thin on your patience.

Like tonight, since arriving at the gala, she hasn't stopped seeking him out. Every time he moved across the room, Gretchen's eyes followed him, tracking his every movement.

“Look at the floor, or the ceiling. Anyone else here, if you’re feeling it. Just keep your eyes off him,” you warned, your voice steady yet low, attempting to maintain your composure.

“Aw, are you scared that he’s gonna realize that he can do better than a misfit with blood on her hands?” she taunted, her tone mocking.

“Listen, I’ll be nice, up until I’m not,” you responded firmly. “Some fights you’re never going to win; the sooner you realize it, the better.”

She smirked, lips curving into a defiant smirk. “Ohh, I’m so scared,” she mocked, feigning that her hand was shaking.

“Last warning. Back off, or I’ll make you regret crossing me.”

Her smile grew even more confident, and a hint of danger sparkled in her gaze. “Or what? You’ll threaten me again? Been there, done that. But maybe you’re just all talk.”

The air grew heavier, the tension boiling just beneath the surface. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice urged patience, but instinct had already taken control. You took a measured step forward, your voice calm and unwavering. “Bitch, you haven’t seen the side of me when I’m two drinks in and you can’t leave my man alone.”

She seemed unfazed by your words, shrugging with a smug smile as she backed away. “May the best one win.” With a final scowl, she turned and walked off toward where Valentina and Bob were standing, chatting with a New York Times reporter. Well, Valentina and the reporter were doing the talking, while your boyfriend was just standing there, bouncing one leg and the other, clearly wishing he was anywhere else but here. 

‘May the best one win.’  What the hell was that supposed to mean? He was neither a trophy to be claimed nor a prize to be won. 

She was pushing it too far.

You should’ve slapped her right there. Instead, you clenched your fists, feeling that simmering frustration boiled over. 

How dare she act like she had a chance? As if she owned him? She knew nothing about him; she was just interested in the superhero propaganda Valentina was feeding the press—The Sentry.

But not Robert Reynolds. Bob. 

Sweet, respectful Bob, who valued genuine connection. 

“You're better than me,” Mel remarked, appearing behind you with a drink in her hand. “I’d have slapped the shit out of her already.”

“Trust me, I’m very tempted. But I don’t think that would do any favors for the positive image Valentina is trying to craft for ‘The New Avengers.’”

From your vantage point, you saw Gretchen placing her hand on Bob’s bicep, leaning in just enough to invade his space. Her eyes glittered with that same intensity. Bob’s smile was polite but strained, and you could see the underlying tension in his stance.

Your grip on the glass tightened as you resisted the impulse to march over and pull her away from him. Every second she lingered near him, she was eroding what little patience you had left. 

Mel leaned in slightly, voice hoarse with resolve. “You want me to do something? ‘Cause I will. I’m not about to stand here and watch her shitshow.”

You shook your head subtly, your eyes never leaving the scene. “No. Let her have her moment. It’s not worth the fight. But if she crosses the line again, I swear, I will not hold back.”

Bob glanced toward the crowd, probably wishing he could vanish into thin air. Then, she leaned in even closer, whispering something to him — the action a little too intimate for a professional conversation where there were investors at stake. Bob took a step back, but she brushed into him again, not seeming to notice or care. 

That was the last straw.

“She’s not even trying to be subtle,” Mel muttered. “Can she be more pathetic?”

You swallowed the last of your drink in one gulp, hastily passing the glass to Mel before striding over there with determination.

Valentina was the first to notice your approach, tilting her head in confusion. The press lady nearby shimmered with excitement, her gaze flickering with anticipation, convinced she was about to land an exclusive interview. But what was about to unfold was something even more compelling — something that would make tomorrow’s front page. 

Gretchen’s eyes darted to you as she sensed your approach, a flicker of defiance crossing her face. Bob looked up, and you could see the tension in his shoulders ease slightly when he spotted you.

Without hesitation, you reached out and gripped her wrist. “I told you to keep your hands off my man,” you snarled, pushing her aside with firm resolve.

In the background, you caught the faint murmur of Mel saying, “Set her straight, girl,” and Yelena’s thick Russian accent, “Oh shit.”

Then, gently, you placed your hand on Bob’s neck and pulled him down, pressing your lips against his. Though he was caught off guard, he quickly realized what was happening. His hands landed on your waist, drawing you in even closer as he kissed you back.

You didn’t care about the impact or the ramifications, because you were weary of being a puppet and being told what you could do and couldn’t do. And although under other circumstances, you might never have acted so boldly, Gretchen’s provocations had pushed you past your limit.

Yelena let out a low whistle, clearly impressed, while Mel’s cheers echoed softly in the background. You could even hear Alexei's obnoxiously loud voice clapping. “What a show. Young love. So beautiful.”

Gretchen, regaining some composure, tried to muster a cutting remark, but it fell flat. She spun on her heel and stormed off, muttering profanities under her breath.

“Well, I’d say that’s one for the history books. Tomorrow’s front page just got a lot more interesting.”

You pulled back just enough to look into Valentina’s eyes. “I’m sure Gretchen would be delighted to deal with the situation,” you replied sarcastically. “Now, if you excuse us.” Taking Bob’s hand, you guided him away from the turmoil and toward the exit. 

You were done with tonight’s gala.

You were back at the Watchtower, the strain from the gala finally dissipating, but instead, a heavy wave of awareness washed over you, reminding you of the upcoming consequences.

“I’m sorry.” You looked down, a bit sheepish, breaking the silence that had settled between you.

Bob tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “Why?”

You took a slow, deep breath. “For acting so impulsively. Now, we're probably going to be on all the front pages — people will talk about this.” You looked up, eyes earnest. “I didn’t want it to go down like that, but Gretchen pushed me too far.”

Bob was smart, so you knew he had figured out what she had been doing tonight and every day since she was hired.

“Yeah, she wasn’t very subtle about it… but I, uh – I promise I wasn’t interested.”

Bless his heart.

“I know, baby. But she was really getting on my nerves. Especially after I already warned her to back off before, and she hurled a challenge at me as if she even had a chance with you.”

A grin tugged at Bob’s lips, growing wider.

“Why are you smiling?” you inquired in confusion.

Why wasn’t he mad that you outed your relationship in such a possessive way?

His eyes were bright with mirth as he leaned in. “Honestly? I liked it. It was kinda hot,” he admitted, a little breathless. “No one’s ever gone so feral over me before… It’s a real turn-on.”

You blinked in astonishment. Bob's confidence grew only on rare occasions, allowing him to speak such things. 

A smile curved on your lips. “Oh, really? Well, if you think that was hot, you haven’t seen half of what I can do, baby.”

Without warning, Bob reached out, cradling your face in his hands and pulling your lips into his. It started slow but gradually escalated as his tongue pressed between your parted lips, seeking access that you willingly granted.

His hand on your face cupped your jaw, fingers curling gently as he held you steady. Your hands instinctively reached his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his tailored suit jacket, grounding yourself.

As the kiss deepened, his lips got more demanding. One of his hands slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you even closer — if it was possible — kindling a flame that spread through both of you. Your hands traveled to his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart beneath your fingertips.

When you finally pulled back slightly, your foreheads resting together, both of you out of breath. Bob’s gaze lingered on yours, a sly smile playing on his lips.

“Still think that dress would look better on my floor?"

[dior-luxury]

Oh my goshhhhhh I LOVED the Randomly Kissing the Dorm Leaders prompt you just did!! Their reactions were so cute and it was just the right amount of suggestive hehe!! Is there any chance you would consider doing the vice housewardens too?

Kiss And Make-Out

( ✧ ) ��───── boyfriend stories . fluff - no prns mentioned .

- [𝐜𝐡.] vice dormleaders

- [𝐩:𝐬] suggestive themes . mentions of making out . romantic tension

Note: I sure can! Here you go anon! <3

Trey Clover

It was supposed to be a normal afternoon. Trey had just finished up club activities and was making his way back to Heartslabyul’s dorm, a bit dusty from helping Riddle with some garden chores. He was in the middle of rolling up his sleeves when he heard footsteps running up behind him — and before he could turn around fully, you had grabbed his hand and yanked him into an empty storage room near the greenhouse.

“Whoa—! [Name]?” he blinked, only slightly surprised as the door shut behind you. “What’s going on? Did something happen—”

Your hands came up, cupping his face, and then? Kiss.

One, two, three — they came like sugar-sweet raindrops: on his cheeks, his lips, his nose, his forehead. A barrage of affection. Trey just stood there in stunned silence, warm hands lightly hovering at your waist as you showered him with love. He blinked behind his glasses, heart thudding a bit harder with each peck.

“Missed you,” you whispered between kisses. “And I just couldn’t wait anymore.”

That’s when he finally exhaled a soft laugh. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmured, cheeks flushed just enough to pinken under his freckles. He pulled you in by the waist, leaning his forehead against yours. “Dragging me into a room like this… You trying to give me a heart attack, sweetheart?”

You grinned up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Guilty.”

He chuckled, brushing your hair back gently. “You could’ve at least let me clean up first… I’m all sweaty from gardening,” he teased — but even as he said it, his thumb was brushing softly along your cheek, eyes drinking you in like you were the sweetest confection he’d ever laid eyes on.

Then, in a rare moment of selfishness, Trey kissed you back — not just once, but again and again, slow and thorough like he was trying to memorize the shape of your love. The kind of kisses that felt like coming home after a long day.

“I’ll never get tired of this,” he said against your lips. “But next time… at least give a guy a warning before ambushing him, alright?”

Yeah. Right. Like you wouldn’t do it again tomorrow.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie had been running errands all over campus — Leona had sent him out again (as usual), this time to fetch some imported tea, organize his notes, and somehow restock an entire cabinet full of snacks that the Savannaclaw students had obliterated.

He was already planning a nap in the shade when you caught him walking through the hallway.

“Oh hey, babe—whoa!!” he yelped as you grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him into an old classroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

He blinked, confused and very much on alert. “H-Hey now, what’s the deal?! We gettin’ chased or somethin’? If this is about those donuts from Sam’s shop, I swear I only took—”

Then? Smooch.

You surged up on your toes and planted a kiss right on his lips, catching him mid-ramble. And then another. And another.

His back hit the wall, and you kept going — kisses on his face, his jaw, even his temple when he tilted his head in disbelief. The poor boy froze like a raccoon caught in headlights.

“Shishishi—W-Wait, hold up! You’re—You’re attackin’ me with love outta nowhere!” he laughed breathlessly, heart pounding fast under his hoodie. “Geez, I didn’t even get time to fix my hair—!”

But his words melted into mush as your lips brushed his again, and all that sass slowly melted into the softest sigh.

Ruggie’s hands eventually found your waist, gripping lightly like he wasn’t sure this was real. “Man… you really like catchin’ me off guard, huh?” he muttered with a grin, ears pink and twitching.

“You’ve been working hard,” you whispered. “You deserve a break. And kisses.”

Ruggie let out a crooked little chuckle, his smile lazy and warm. “Y’know… if this is what I get for runnin’ errands, I might start askin’ Leona for more chores.”

He leaned down, brushing his nose against yours playfully. “But hey… next time, at least lemme grab a snack first. You’re wearin’ me out, and I haven’t even had lunch.”

Still, when you reached up for one more kiss, he was already meeting you halfway — because honestly? This was the best kind of exhaustion he’d ever felt.

Jade Leech

Jade was never one to be caught off guard. He prided himself on reading people like books — knowing what they wanted, how they moved, what they might do next. He enjoyed the thrill of control, of having the upper hand in every conversation, every moment.

Which is why he found it exceptionally entertaining when you managed to surprise him.

You spotted him near the Lounge after a long, tiring day, a sly glint in your eyes. He looked elegant as ever, uniform crisp, a tray in hand, about to disappear into the staff hallway—

And then?

You grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him into an unused supply closet.

“My, my,” Jade chuckled, amused. “How assertive. Dare I ask what your intentions are, dear—”

Kiss.

Right on the lips.

And another. And another. And then down to his neck, his jawline, the corner of his smirking mouth. You didn’t give him time to speak again. You were on a mission, and that mission was: love attack.

For a moment, Jade just blinked, caught between laughter and stunned silence.

“…Oh?” he finally hummed. “Is this an ambush, or am I merely dreaming?”

You grinned against his cheek. “Just wanted to smother you in affection. No plotting, no schemes. Just kisses.”

He tilted his head, his long fingers ghosting along your waist as if to steady himself. His mismatched eyes sparkled in the low light.

“How very... reckless of you,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a silken purr. “You’re lucky I’m quite fond of recklessness—especially when it comes from you.”

Then, with a grin sharp enough to cut through the quiet, he kissed you back — slow and deliberate, making you feel every second of it.

He pulled back only slightly to whisper, “Next time, let’s make it a proper ambush. Candles, a romantic setting… maybe even a little danger.”

And yet, even as he teased you, Jade was smiling. A genuine, rare smile that reached his eyes.

“You always manage to catch me off guard, darling,” he whispered. “And I must admit… I love that about you.”

Jamil Viper

He was walking down the hallway of Scarabia dorm, finally — finally — done with a mountain of tasks that had kept him running around all day. Between Kalim’s social plans, paperwork, magic practice, and student council duties, Jamil hadn’t had more than ten minutes to himself.

So when he saw you turn the corner up ahead, your eyes lighting up the moment they met his, he felt a brief but blissful relief wash over him.

“Hey, I was just about to—”

You grabbed his wrist. And pulled him straight into the nearest empty room.

“What the—?! [Name]?” he said with alarm, barely managing to close the door before your hands tangled in his scarf and you kissed him. Not once. Not gently. But in a fast, frantic flurry of affection that sent his mind into a complete stall.

“W-Wait, wait, what’s going on?” Jamil gasped between kisses, back hitting the wall. “You—I—why now?!”

But you didn’t answer — only looked up at him with that dazzling smile, the one that always cracked through his carefully built defenses. You were peppering kisses across his cheeks, his lips, even the line of his jaw, and Jamil’s brain? Short-circuited.

He tensed up at first, a natural instinct — he was used to being on edge, always cautious, always guarded.

But with every press of your lips, something in him loosened.

He let out a low breath. His eyes fluttered shut. His arms slid around your waist as if they had a mind of their own. “…You’re so unfair,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and soft against your ear. “How am I supposed to stay composed when you do things like this?”

You giggled and kissed his nose. “You don’t have to. I just wanted to remind you that I love you. Like… a lot.”

A laugh — an actual laugh — escaped him, warm and full of something he rarely allowed anyone else to see. “You’re a menace,” he muttered. “But you’re my menace.”

He cupped your cheek gently, pressing a final kiss to your forehead with a smirk. “Fine. But next time you kidnap me, warn me first. So I can at least prepare my heart.”

(He was already planning to steal you away later that night to return the favor — with interest.)

Rook Hunt

The day had been insufferably long. Between classes, track practice, and a surprise club meeting that ran two hours over, you hadn’t had a single moment alone with Rook. And the thing about dating the ever-dramatic hunter of beauty was—when you missed him, you missed him.

So when you finally caught sight of him sauntering down a hallway, humming a tune to himself, golden hair catching the sunlight through the windows, you acted.

You grabbed his wrist without a word and pulled him down a side corridor.

“Chéri?” he blinked, a surprised smile curling at his lips. “What is this sudden mystery—oh!”

You shoved open a storage room door, pulled him inside, and slammed it shut behind you.

“Mon dieu,” he laughed breathlessly as you pressed him against the wall, your hands sliding up his chest. “Such fire, such passion—!”

Kiss.

You didn’t even give him a second to finish his sentence. Your lips crashed into his like you’d been starved of him for days. And maybe you had. You kissed him over and over, hands weaving into his hair, your body pressed flush against his as if trying to make up for all the stolen moments you didn’t get today.

He gasped softly under your touch, eyes fluttering half-shut as his arms wound around your waist.

“Ah, mon ange,” he sighed between kisses. “You must know this is quite the divine surprise…”

But he made no move to stop you.

If anything, he encouraged you—letting you trail kisses down his jaw, nuzzle into his neck. His fingers splayed across your lower back as he tilted his head, allowing you all the access in the world.

“You ravish me like the fiercest of hunters,” he whispered, lips brushing against your temple. “And I am but your prey, helpless to resist.”

You giggled breathlessly. “Maybe I just missed you.”

“Oh, but that makes it all the more romantic, ma chérie,” he purred, nuzzling your cheek. “To be missed so deeply… what a privilege. What a delicious ache.”

He kissed you this time—slower, deeper, full of longing.

When you finally pulled away, dazed and flushed, Rook looked at you with such open affection it nearly stole your breath all over again.

“You always catch me so beautifully off guard,” he murmured. “Next time, let me steal you away… and I’ll make sure we don’t leave that room for hours.”

Lilia Vanrouge

You didn’t plan it.

But there was just something about Lilia that made self-control impossible. Maybe it was the sly smirk he always wore, or the way he teased you just enough to stir your heart but never enough to satisfy it. Maybe it was the fact that he could vanish in the blink of an eye, leaving you aching with the need to grab him and never let go.

So when you spotted him walking through the dorm halls, humming some old war song and sipping from his spiky black tea thermos, you pounced.

“Eh? What’s this, darling—?”

You tugged him by the arm, swung open the nearest empty music room door, and dragged him inside.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, you launched.

“Whoa-ho-ho~!” Lilia laughed, clearly amused as your hands clutched his shirt and your lips met his in a storm of kisses. “Oh my~ aren’t we enthusiastic today?”

You didn’t even respond. You just smothered him—kisses on his lips, his cheeks, his neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you kissed him again and again, like you’d been holding it in all week. Because you had.

At first, Lilia let you do as you pleased, laughing into your kisses, his hands gently guiding you closer. “My, my. Did you miss me that much?” he teased, his voice low and fond.

You kissed him harder.

“…I see,” he said, amused and delighted. “So you needed your fill of me. How bold, my love. I’m flattered.”

But then, he flipped the dynamic in an instant.

He spun you around and gently pressed you to the piano behind you, lips brushing your ear. “Now that you’ve had your turn…” he whispered, voice rich and playful, “I believe it’s my turn to smother you~”

Before you could even gasp, his kisses came fast—fluttering, playful, then deep. One moment he was peppering your face with quick kisses, and the next, he was cupping your jaw and kissing you like he wanted to melt you.

When he pulled back, both of you breathless, Lilia grinned wickedly. “Stealing me away in the middle of the day? How very romantic. I should reward you for that sort of boldness more often.”

Then he winked.

“But next time you pull me into a room, dearest, make sure it locks properly. I’d hate to be interrupted while being so thoroughly loved.”

⟡ tag list : @owlisbuffering @chai-yas @yunar1 @fever-en

[zae-heeyyy]

Causerie

Summary: You send Arthur a letter. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word Count: 2,185 Tags: Male Masturbation, solo handjob, mentions of oral and unprotected p in v, dirty talk, long distance relationship, high honor Warnings: 18+ MDNI

an: So this came out of nowhere LMAO It's a bit different from what I'm used to, but I ran with it. The mentioned photo was heavily inspired by @sir-walton-goggins's under-the-cut sketch of their OC, Kris Blake. 😍😍😍 I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

Causerie: an informal conversation

Channeling the self-control of a brigade of soldiers, Arthur willed his unruly cock flaccid as he left the post office. An envelope addressed to Tacitus Kilgore in familiar dainty cursive teased him from inside his satchel. The nagging twinge in his gut could only be satiated by his fist wrapped tight around himself in the solitude of his tent. 

He didn’t know how he’d make it through the rest of the day without losing his sanity. Once you’d unknowingly planted the seeds, his thoughts of you grew wild and untamed like the weeds at your feet. He’d never seen something so ridiculous—a woman in her day dress, the lacy hem stained with dirt, trying to repair a loose fence post on her own.

“No man ’round here?” he had asked, holding his hand out for the hammer.

“There is now.”

You beamed, your smile stunning him like a camera flash. Unbeknownst to him, that grin was a brand, marking him as yours for a long time to come. 

Every time he passed by the quiet homestead, he found himself lightly pulling on Boadicea’s reins and scoping out something to fix. Your ways of showing gratitude, like a hug or kiss on the cheek, turned his neck to shades of crimson, yet he’d still come knocking again some time later. On his last visit, you were dragging him to your room by cotton suspenders, mouth attached to his before he could get a word in.

An innocent lamb you were not—he was sure of it now in a half-daze, hypnotized by your breasts as you bounced on top of him. Matter of fact, you must’ve been a witch or a succubus; he’d never felt so used, drained, and perfectly satisfied.

And guilty, too. He couldn’t even look at you as he confessed to his life of criminality, finally admitting what he’d come to tell you in the first place. After this job, he was leaving for good.

To his surprise, you didn’t put up a fight—just wished him well—and dammit, that made him want you even more. You didn’t follow him outside—only watched from under the blanket as he said his last goodbye and promise.

“I’ll write t’you.”

Receiving your letters kept his heart ticking and dick aching. What started as a pile of polite notes quickly transformed into a library of erotica. His hands trembled in anticipation as he opened the latest letter. 

Dear Arthur, 

Are you still alive? I hope you haven’t gone and gotten yourself killed. I’m sorry if I kept you waiting. A new photographer opened up in town, and I stopped by the studio one evening just before he closed. I may have batted my lashes and stood a little too close when I asked for his help. A special photo of me would be the perfect gift for my dear husband, who was about to be shipped away to war in the Philippines. You should’ve seen how red he got when I dropped my blouse. I tried to sit pretty. Did it work?

A photo? Arthur checked the discarded envelope, searching for the supposed gift. A small photo was still tucked away in the envelope. He took it out and held it up to the lantern to get a good look.

Christ.

You were directly in the center of the camera with a lazy smile on your face. Pearls adorned your neck, and velvet cloth draped over your shoulders, just barely covering those twin humps on your chest. Fuck, he wanted to rip that photographer’s head clean off his shoulders for capturing you like that, but goddamn, he wanted to shake the man’s hand too. This slip of paper was a slice of heaven on Earth.

And for what he was about to do with it, he was going straight to hell. Setting the letter aside, the gunslinger undressed down to his union suit with the ardor of his twenty-year-old self. As he settled back onto the cot, he locked on to your sultry eyes and sighed contently.

I had a dream about you. Do you ever dream about me?  

The bulge in his pants begged for attention, and he appeased it, palming himself idly while his eyes stayed trained on the photograph. He’s too old and weathered for this—pining over some girl and touching himself like he’d gotten a second wind of puberty. 

But he couldn’t help it. Even after deafening gun fights and vicious animal attacks, he’d find a letter to re-read, and now he had this picture to accompany his fantasies. His gaze shifted from the photo back to your words on the page. 

We were in this beautiful room in a palace or someplace like that, swimming under blankets. It was far from my humble bed, but it felt like paradise. 

If only you knew, that little bed was his paradise.

Dream you tasted like whiskey and ash and smelled like leather and gunpowder. I don’t think it was too far off from the real thing. We weren’t wearing any clothes, of course, and your head was tucked between my thighs. 

Breath shaking, his hips shifted upward, the memory of your thighs on either side of him overwhelming his senses. Arthur sucked in his bottom lip and didn’t waste any more time undoing the bottom two buttons of his union suit. His cock sprung free, twitching and yearning. Flicking his eyes to your photo once more, his right hand moved on its own, kneading his leaking tip. He peeked over the edge of the paper, watching precum drizzle down his shaft, imagining it was you leaking around him. 

Oh, Arthur, I could feel your lips on every part of me at once, kissing up my stomach, bosom, arms, thighs, legs, all over. But when you found my lips again, I don’t know how my pounding heart didn’t suck me out of the dream. Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous your eyes are or how heavenly your hands feel? And your back, Mister Morgan, is like a brick wall. How I wish I could’ve dug my nails into it.

Arthur’s fisted pace quickened as he stifled a groan, trying his very best to keep the sounds of his sin quiet. He urged himself downward into the cot, hoping the friction could mimic the sting of your nails dragging down his spine, but it was no use. Tightening his grip in frustration, he turned his attention back to the photograph of you. He wanted to study your hands, to imprint them in his mind’s eye so he could imagine them scratching his back and pleasuring his cock.

But the photo was too close up, only your face and a peak of your breasts captured at that moment in time. Would he be too brazen to ask for another? To request a pose? Hell—he’d stuff the money in an envelope with a list of the depraved positions he’d like to see you in. Your hands on your bust, legs spread open, on all fours, one with your pretty fingers in your mouth, and a full body shot with just the pearls. Dammit—he’d kill for it. 

But then, at the very end of the list, he’d ask for a respectable one. One of you with your hair pinned up under a fancy hat, dressed in your finest, wearing a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet with your hands folded politely over your lap. One that was sweet and proper. One that he could tuck in his journal, frame, or pin up on the wagon. One that he could take out in broad daylight and pretend, just for a moment, that he really was that war vet admiring a photo of his loving spouse.

His hips moved involuntarily again, jutting up into his fist—the placeholder for the pussy of the woman he’d one day make his wife.

I didn’t plan to get you in bed that night, as unbelievable as that may sound. You were just so damn handsome and so so kind. I couldn’t help it. I needed to know how you’d feel inside me. I hope you don’t see me as just some Jezebel.

“No,” he gasped out. Wet sounds of his strokes accompanied his declaration.

I really did and still do have feelings for you, Arthur. It’s quite scary, actually. Maybe that’s why my dreams about you are so vivid? I realized just how much I cared that night, looking down into your eyes. I don’t take you as the type of man to just give yourself away on a normal day like that, so I hope you feel the same way as me. Did I ever say thank you? Thank you for being such a giver. I have a tendency to take, take, take when I’m on top, but you got payback in my dream. You had me pinned under all of your weight, damn near suffocating me. It was the good type, though. When you pushed into me, I forgot all about it. I never took you for an eager man either, but you were drilling me into those blankets with the fervor of a threshing machine. Are you an eager man, Mister Morgan?

He answered in shallow pants, twisting his fist around his length and rocking his hips. 

I have a curse of waking up right when I’m on the edge, so as you can imagine, I had a wet problem to take care of. My fingers just don’t quite do it like you. I wish we could’ve had more time together. I get the feeling that you do a lot of taking care of other folks and don’t get that in return. Am I right? I’d take care of you, Arthur. I’d keep your belly full and drain your balls all in a night.

They tightened at the thought, and his hips were a piston now, going up and down on their own accord.

I know you’d never ask because you’re too nice, but I’d get on my knees for you and take care of you in that way. I’m sad we never got to try it, that I never got to taste you. The thought gave me the silliest idea. Are you looking at my picture? Imagine that pearl necklace is your spend on my chest.

Jesus—the perverted imagery hit him like a train. He looked at the pretty pearls atop your chest. Goddamn, minx. 

Don’t think me too crass, but do you touch yourself to my letters like I touch myself to yours? Yours are more well-mannered than mine. But still, I wonder, is your fist wrapped around your cock?

“Yes, darlin.” 

Goddamnit, he was talking to himself now, arm cramping as he pumped feverishly at his engorged dick, his orgasm waiting to explode behind his eyes.

Do you imagine it’s me instead? I wish it was me. I wish I was on top of you again, milking you for everything you’ve got. Would you give it to me this time, Arthur? Would you spill inside of me?

And spill he did, teeth gritted and grunting, as hot ropes of lust spurted out over his hand. Once again, he’d made a mess of himself on account of you.

Shame crept in as he floated back to reality and stared up at the canvas of his tent. He brought the letter back to his face to read the last paragraph. The least he should do was finish it—dirty old bastard. But when he landed on your words and processed them, he was left with a numb, longing ache in his chest.

If we were together, I’d help clean you up, then maybe we could spend the rest of the night all tangled up in each other. I’m sorry I’m not there to touch you for real, but I hope these letters bring a little light to that hard, lonely life of yours. If I can make you feel good, even from far away, that’s enough for me. I miss you. Any chance you could come see me soon? 

Yours.

Arthur sighed and folded your letter back up neatly, tucking it away in his now hollowed-out copy of Rambles Through Woods and Plains. Though your photo and letter were out of sight, his mind refused to wander from the subject of you.

An assortment of motion pictures flickered in his memory: the way your head tipped in laughter at his dry sarcasm, how you so graciously welcomed him to that sitdown meal, the way you worried about him just as much as he worried about you, and how your words, even from afar, brought him unmeasurable comfort. Making it back across the Upper Montana could be a brutal fight, but he’d outrun the law and take a few bullets if he had to. He’d bare it all to bring you back with him. 

As he relaxed into the cot, another thought drifted by, small and almost weightless like a dandelion seed in the wind: maybe he wouldn’t have to bring you back at all. Perhaps he could stay right there with you.

[miaoua3]

Stay The Night?

Pairing: CEO! Choi Seungcheol x f!reader

Genre: shamless smut (MDNI), piv sex, oral (both receiving), mentions of the ex (ew), hickeys and scratches, no protection (don’t be silly wrap the willy guys, don’t make me smack you all),marking in general, possessive choi seungcheol, smallest amount of spanking, squirting

Description: after spending the night with the CEO and (unsuccessfully) trying to sneak away, Choi Seungcheol asks you to stay the whole day and later on, even the night. Will you say yes?

Or

Basically part 2 to “Stay The Morning?”

Note: late present from me to you for 1000 followers on tumblr and 10k on tiktok🥰🫶 and also because i had the chance of smelling creed aventus aka the perfume cheol uses more regularly than the one i smelled that inspired part one of this and i got the urge to suck this mans dick so….bon appetit🥰

Warnings: yet again barely proofread lol im sorry i just hate doing that

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“take that dress off and get back in here, i want cuddles…and maybe something more.”

and who were you to deny him anything?

well, you were you, and so naturally you cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side as a playful smile spreads on your face, in a mockingly offended voice you said “i’m not taking anything off or letting you anywhere near me until you brush your teeth and feed me something. what, you thought the last night was completely free? you’re a businessman, you should know better honey.”

cheol chuckles deeply as he stretches, the blanket slowly sliding down his bare torso, giving you a delicious view of his chest, ribs becoming more prominent the further he reaches with his hands above his head.

groaning in satisfaction, he then throws the whole blanket off of him before sitting on the edge of the bed, softly messing with his bed hair. looking at you with the cutest smile, he then gets up.

in only his boxers. the muscles all over his body softly flexing. his thighs looking deliciously big as he takes the slow steps towards you.

sweet baby jesus.

the moment he’s standing right in front of you in his naked glory, you feel your throat go dry with need and desire.

well i’ll be damned, i already got my christmas present, and it’s not even december.

almost as if he can sense your thoughts, cheol chuckles deeply before quickly dipping his head lower so he can press a gentle kiss on your neck, his tongue lightly grazing your skin. goosebumps irrupt all over your skin at his action, a shaky breath leaving your mouth as he moves away a little, just enough for his face to end up right in front of your own.

staring at your eyes, his own a deep shade of brown, almost black with desire, cheol slowly exhales, almost like he’s trying to control himself.

stretching to his original height, he then takes ahold of your dress with his fingers, lightly tugging on it.

“you should go take a shower while i make breakfast, this dress must be uncomfortable to wear. i will have someone deliver you some clothes before you’re done in the bathroom.”

you raise an eyebrow, amusement playing in your eyebrows.

“or you could, y’know, give me one of your shirts. like all the normal guys do.”

something dark suddenly appears in his eyes, the little smile that has been tugging on the edges of his lips disappears at your words.

he takes another slow step towards you, so that there’s barely any space left between your warm bodies. looking down on you, he darkly says “i’m not like other men. you should know that until know, baby.”

you swallow hardly, but not out of fear or anything like that.

you swallow because that was so fucking sexy of him.

good lord, i need him again, as soon as possible.

he then slowly kisses your cheek, like a gentleman that he is, before he takes ahold of your hand and starts pulling you out of the bedroom.

“c’mon, i’ll show you where the bathroom is and how everything works. any special wishes for breakfast? anything you prefer or not? allergies? would you like coffee or tea maybe?”

you chuckle at his questions, quickly stopping him to gently kiss his cheek before looking at him with your doe eyes.

“coffee is fine, i’m not that big on breakfast but you have spent all of my energy last night, so maybe something light but filling would be good. and i’m not allergic to anything, not that i know at least. now, before you start to terrorise the kitchen, brush your teeth, romeo.”

you push him through the entrance of the bathroom door, his skin soft and gentle to the touch as you do so.

cheol just chuckles before he starts rummaging through his drawers, finally finding you a spare toothbrush so you both can get rid of the morning breath.

as you stand side by side, dutifully brushing your teeth, you both sneak glances of each other in the mirror.

you eyes focus on his bare chest and how they move with every little movement, how his soft stomach jiggles a bit too, as well as the dark happy trail on his lower stomach. the way his biceps pops put by him holding his arms so high is just as delicious as the rest of him.

his own eyes are trained on your face, how beautiful it looks with barely any makeup from last night left. but also because he’s only a man after all, he lets his eyes also travel down your body, lingering on how your boobs jiggle as you continue brushing your teeth.

what can he say, he’s a weak man.

after you’re done, you kick him out of the bathroom in order to take a quick shower, almost letting a “wanna join me?” slip out of your mouth, but he leaves before you can do as much.

the warm water feels amazing on your aching muscles, relaxing you so much so that you almost fall asleep while standing.

after a few minutes, you finish up in the shower, looking around for the clothes that he promised you, but to no avail.

just as you open the door to yell for help, you notice a bag waiting for you on the doorstep.

opening it, your jaw drops at what you find inside.

white lingerie. with a white slip on and a white silky robe, accompanied by white house slippers.

this sneaky little-

“so, is this what the big-shot and ceo of the prestigious company, choi seungcheol, dreams at night? what he lusts for and what he desires?”, you say as you walk in the kitchen, crossing your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him as you wait for an answer, signaling to your outfit with your head.

cheol just smiles innocently, his eyes just two lines from how wide he’s smiling.

“no, this is what a simple man who you have wrapped around your finger, cheol, dreams of.”

you roll your eyes with a smile at the smoothness of his answer, failing to add anything else to his answer.

he then pulls out a chair and points with his hand for you to sit on it. not used to this type of treatment from men, you almost giggle as you sit down.

he sits right beside you, taking your plate in his hand and slowly filling it with all the food that he made (which is way too much amount of food for two people, or so you think until you see him devour everything like he hasn’t eaten in months.)

you chat lightly as you eat, laughing at some of his very badly made jokes-is the laugh out of pity or because he’s just so cute? you will never tell know.

“so, any plans for today?”, he suddenly asks you.

you look up, pondering for a moment if you had anything planned, but nothings comes to mind.

“no, not really. maybe clean my apartment a bit? haven’t done that in a minute, understandably so.”, you chuckle emotionlessly, thinking about how your heartbreak prevented you from functioning normally.

cheol just gives you a weird look, not understanding why you would say that.

it is in that moment that you realise that he doesn’t know anything that has happened with your ex three weeks ago.

you reluctantly sigh, looking him directly in the eyes. “not to be party pooper, but i actually broke with my ex just a few weeks ago, because i found him cheating on me. with his coworker. in my bed. in my apartment. in my silk sheets. that i paid for. with my money.”

for a second there’s no sound coming from either of you, when you suddenly starts giggling a bit, wiping away a little imaginary tear, you continue “you could say that i’m a bit bitter-“, and then you take a look at him.

cheol just looks at you, or rather somewhere past you, his eyes murderous, hand gripping his fork so tightly it could snap in two any second.

your breath catches in your throat, an unfamiliar emotion overcoming you.

finally looking you directly in the eyes, still with the same look in them, he asks darkly “what’s his name?”

you gulp, looking away as you quietly say “it’s not important, I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

sensing that your mood has changed for the worse, cheol breathes in deeply and then out as a way to calm himself down before taking your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of it as he quietly says “for the record, he doesn’t realise just what hell of a woman he lost. and that his loss is somebody else’s gain, so. he’s stupid, who in their right mind would cheat on you?”.

your eyes move to look at him, his eyebrows scrunched a bit as if this is hurting himself.

you can’t remember the last time that a man went out of his way to make you feel so seen and appreciated. it makes your heart do this weird thing. like it stops beating for a moment but also like it sped up by a big notch.

you smile gently at him before you lean towards him and, for the first time since you two woke up, gently kiss his lips for a moment.

pulling away, you just respond “let’s finish eating before it cools off.”

seungcheol, as if in a daze from your kiss, just nods a bit, a dopey smile taking up half of his face.

you quickly finish up, helping him put the dishes into the washer before he leads you to the humongous leather couch that is right in front of even more humongous tv.

he sits down first, right in the middle of it before he pulls you down. seemingly he had a vision for everything that is happening right now, because before you can even get comfortable, he pulls your legs over his thighs, letting a hand rest on the bare thigh, massaging it lightly as he wraps his other arm around your shoulders, your head falling on his shoulder as he does.

well, okay then you think to yourself as you wrap your own arm around his bare stomach, rubbing his hip gently.

he turns on the tv, more so as a background noise, before he starts asking you all sorts of questions- what your hobbies are, who the two friends from last night were, where you are from as in like the city, you favourite colour and many other questions, the weirdest one being “have you ever thought how the dogs think? like are they barking in their mind, or is it maybe english or korean? or whatever the language of the country they’re in is? what about deaf dogs?”

you spend hours talking and laughing, for the most part you. he tells you the stories of his childhood, stories of his brother and how he accidentally smacked him with a baseball bat on the hand which inevitably ended up being broken, how he fell from the tree, stories about his friends who he met in college and still talks to on the daily, calling them “his kids”, all while he traces the hickeys and bite marks on your neck and shoulders.

you two talk until your mouth gets dry and he fetches you a glass of water for it.

deciding that he should take a shower, he says that you can put whatever you want on the tv and watch it while he does so, saying he won’t take long before he disappears behind the door.

you turn something random on, a documentary you think??? when you suddenly realise that you haven’t been on your phone the entire time, just like you haven’t heard from your friends since the last night.

looking around for it, you find it on the little table in front of the large window, the one you stood in front of as seungcheol kissed you for the first time.

you turn it on to see hundreds of messages and missed calls from jihyo and sana.

the last message from your group chat read “that’s it, if she doesn’t answer in the next 10 minutes, i’m calling the police.”

the message was sent 7 minutes ago.

lucky.

you sheepishly reply with an “heyyy guys haha what’s up”

you immediately get spammed with the messages, variating from “WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN” to “WAS THE DICK GOOD”.

i think it’s pretty clear which one of them sent which message.

you respond that you are still at cheol’s to jihyo’s message and that you probably will be home later tonight and that you can meet up then for the detailed story time of your escapades, and you respond with a photo of your collarbones and neck full of hickeys to sana’s message, sending a little wink emoji.

you can see that both of them are losing their minds, writing messages all in cap locks. just as you were about to read them all, you hear the door of the bathroom unlock.

you write a quick “gotta go, the man of the hour is back from his shower, gotta go and make him sweaty again ;)” before turning your phone off and focusing on him.

the sight makes you want get down on your knees and send a quick thank-you prayer to the god.

because there stood cheol, in all his naked and wet glory, black wet hair messily falling on his forehead.

and he only had a towel wrapped around his hips.

you unconsciously bite your lip as you watch him, sitting up straight as you see him walk towards you.

he finally stops right in front of you, his hips on the same level as your face. you go from looking at his happy trail to slowly raising your eyes to look him the eyes, his bulky form towering over you.

his dark eyes are trained on your face, his eyes as dark as midnight as he watches your teeth bite your lips in need.

his hand comes to your face, before his thumb slowly pulls on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.

you don’t put any effort in closing your lips, letting them stay agape.

the same thumb starts to rub your lip, lightly dipping inside your mouth, your tongue poking it unconsciously.

suddenly, in the deepest voice ever, he says two words that make you completely lose all your self control.

“pretty girl.”

you grab his arm and pull him down towards you. he gasps in shock as he starts falling down. luckily, he has fast reflexes, so he quickly grabs the backrest of the couch, so he’s bent over you.

you loop your arms around his neck and pull him closer so you can kiss him.

cheol groans the moment he feels your lips on his, tongue prodding, asking for entrance to his own mouth. he obviously grants it, making your tongues meet in a battle for dominance.

you try pulling him even closer, making him kneel with one knee between your own legs. it is a wonder that the towel still stayed on up until this point. adamant on changing that, you use one hand to harshly pull it away, making his half hard on spring free.

like a woman possessed, you quickly use your hold on his neck to pull him to the side, making him fall on the couch.

just as he adjusts so he’s sitting comfortably on it, you slowly stand up in front of him.

eyes trained on you, unblinking, cheol’s mouth fall open when he sees you taking off the white robe, proceeding to take the white slip off too.

cheol never believed in heaven, but as you stood in front of him, in white matching lacy lingerie, with all of his marks on your body from last night, looking like an angel, he truly started to believe that this is the closest to the heaven that he will get.

reaching with his hands towards you, so he can pull you on his lap, you lightly redirect them, holding them in your own.

you are apparently set on giving this man a heart attack at ripe age of 29, because you then proceed to drop to your knees.

right in front of him, between his legs.

with his hard dick right in front of your face.

his dark eyes, pupils blown with desire, trace every movement you make.

you first adjust your hair a bit, so it’s not getting in your way, looking at him with what he can only describe as hunger of a lioness.

keeping the eye contact, you slowly lick the whole palm of your hand, making sure that it’s extra wet with saliva.

cheol gulps.

the moment that that very same hand wraps around his dick, he’s throwing his head back, a loud gasp escaping him at how sensitive it feels. his back comes off the couch, hand looking for anything to grasp on, only finding his towel instead.

you pump him a few times, looking at him, focused solely on his face, to see how he’s reacting to your touch-to you.

his eyes flutter shut, a groan rumbling somewhere from the depths of his chest, his torso expanding with every deep breath he has to take in order to control himself and not cum on your face this very second.

god, that last thought didn’t help him, at all.

you pump his dick some more, your hand not even being able to wrap itself around his dick fully, making you shiver at the thought of having the very same dick inside of you later.

deciding that enough is enough, you slowly lower your face when he’s not paying attention, until your lips wrap themselves around the head of his cock.

cheol moans the second he feels your wet mouth on him.

his eyes barely open themselves, he basically forces himself to keep them open, watching as you slowly push your head down more and more, until half of his dick is inside your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you pull back up.

you repeat the motion a few times just as slowly as you did the first time, enjoying his moans and groans every time the head of his dick hits the back of your throat.

deciding that you want him to be a complete mess, you start bobbing your head faster, hand wrapping itself around the base that your mouth can reach.

god, do you love the fact that his dick is so big you can’t even suck it fully.

something you certainly couldn’t say about your ex.

your mouth engulfs him, the wetness of it making him see stars. and when your tongue does that little things where it first wraps around the head, before sliding along his slit, right where he’s the most sensitive?

cheol sends a prayer up in hopes that he won’t cum right this second.

a strand of hair falls into your face, making you scrunch your face in mild annoyance.

seungcheol jumping to opportunity, quickly gathers all of your hair in his hand, making a ponytail out of it.

and as you go on, bobbing your head up and down his dick, saliva sliding down til it reaches his balls. cheol uses his grip on your hair to control your movements, moving your head in fast pace. you choke repeatedly as his dick hits the back of your throat, and seungcheol seems to like that very much, letting out a groan every time he feels your throat close around the tip of his dick.

as tears stream down your face, you feel yourself being so wet, you fear you might start dripping all over his carpet.

god, you truly hope you aren’t, because that is one dry cleaners you cannot afford.

you watch his beautiful face, head thrown back, long and black eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, lips red from him biting on them to suppress his moans.

he’s so beautiful, if you could, you would stay right here, between his legs, just so you can watch his face in pleasure.

“fuck, baby, that mouth. you’re gonna make me cum, ah, shit. look so pretty on your knees for me, sucking on this cock.”, he raps out, every few words interrupted either by a moan or a groan.

you feel him move your head even faster, as well as his hips buckling upwards, a clear sign that he’s close.

“shit, gonna cum in that mouth of yours, ah fuck, baby- you gotta- gotta stop if you don’t want to swallow it- i- ah-.” he continues to blab, but you don’t pay him any mind, focusing on sucking the head every time he moves your head upwards, and tracing the little vein with your tongue every time he pushes it back downwards.

his moans get louder, his hold on your hair gets tighter, hips stuttering as he’s right there, on the brink of cumming.

you remove your mouth completely away from his dick, immediately replacing it with your hand. looking him directly in the eyes, you say the words that finally push him over the edge.

“cum for me baby, all over my face.”

and that does it for him, spurts of pearly white cum falling on your cheeks, nose and lips. the last few drops you catch with your mouth, wrapping your lips around his sensitive head again in favour of swallowing every last drop of his cum, making sure that nothing is wasted and that he’s as clean as possible.

he moans loudly at your action, pulling your head away because he can’t endure the delicious torture.

you both pant, his chest moving up and down fast, beads of sweat gathered around the crown of his head.

you take the opportunity to finally take a deep breath in, feeling a little bit lightheaded due to being deprived of real oxygen for this long.

cheol slowly opens his mouth, looking at the artwork that is your beautiful face decorated with his cum. with a thumb, he swipes a bit of it away, holding it in front of your mouth as an offer.

you don’t hesitate a second before you wrap your lips around his finger, sucking on it like it’s the most delicious thing you have ever tasted.

cheol groans at the sight, quickly using the same hand to wrap it around the back of your neck, pulling you upwards so that he can kiss you. his tongue invades your mouth, massaging your own in such an erotic way it makes you squeeze your thighs together.

with the other hand, he reaches for your thigh, wrapping around the back of it and pulling on it. you gasp at the sheer strength of this man, because he lifts you up from the floor solely by the hold he has on your leg. for a second, you fly through the air, until your knee finds the couch.

you quickly straddle him, careless sitting down on his lap, his dick rubbing against the lacy material of your panties. he gasps at the sensation, still sensitive from the best head he has ever gotten from a woman.

in order to save his dignity, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you against him so your hips lift a bit from his dick, his lips still eagerly kissing, biting and sucking on your lips as he does so.

your hands find their home on his cheeks, holding his handsome face as you kiss him back just as enthusiastically.

at some point, after a few minutes, your lips naturally separate, but they stay close. panting in each others mouth, you use your hold on his cheeks to lightly brush your thumbs against them in comfort.

he takes a deep breath before he says in a hoarse voice “fuck baby, even though you look like an angel, that mouth of yours is so devilish.”

a giggle escapes you, leaving a quick peck on the corner of his lips. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”

he takes the towel to wipe the remains of his cum off your face before he directs your head so it’s resting on his shoulder, leaving a fleeting kiss on your neck.

“gimme a few minutes baby, i will eat you out then so good, you’re gonna cry.”

and your only response is the shiver that runs down your spine.

for a few moments you just sit there on his lap, playing with his hair while his hands rub your back, lips leaving kisses every few seconds across your shoulders and neck.

you breathe in the smell of his shower gel and his natural smell, mixing in a way that it makes your eyes flutter shut on their own.

that’s another thing, you never found anyone to smell so good like you find cheol does. something about his natural smell is just so…him, and manly, and makes you feel safe and protected.

you wish you could stay here forever.

suddenly cheol’s kisses on your neck start to linger a bit longer, a bit wetter, and his hands start to stray a little bit more on your ass than usual.

you shift slightly just to get more comfortable as your legs started cramping, when you feel his half hard on. your mouth fall open upon realising that it’s showtime.

ever so slowly, you move your hips back, almost dragging your clothed pussy over his bare dick, making him inhale deeply at your action.

he lightly nibbles on the shell of your ear, before whispering directly against it “you little devil.”

you turn your head towards him, looking all innocent and coy as you say “but i thought i was an angel according to your previous statement?”

cheol narrows his eyes, before taking your thighs in his hand and picking you up slightly so he can basically slam you against the couch.

you gasp at the action, adrenaline filling your veins more so than the blood does.

he hovers over you, his hands caging you as he leans on them right beside your head.

you look at each other for a second, waiting to see who will play the first move, when suddenly, cheol rolls his hips right into your own, his dick catching on the lace of your panties.

you gasp at the action, nails immediately imbedding themselves into his back, eyes rolling so far back in your head you can see your thoughts.

“bad, bad girl. trying to play all innocent…”, he pauses before he leans even more in, so his lips are right against your ear again “…when just a few minutes ago you were choking on my dick, so prettily and desperately.”

unconsciously you inhale deeply, making him smirk a bit.

“what, don’t tell me you’re still thinking about it? still not satisfied? cumming down your throat wasn’t enough for you?”, and the condescending voice, the smirk, the satisfaction in his voice.

it pissed you off a bit.

harshly grabbing the back of his head, your nails digging into his scalp as you pull him in a harsh kiss, your other hand purposefully dragging your nails down his back, which makes him shiver.

you break the kiss off just as harshly before you answer to his question “no, i’m still not satisfied, so you better get to it, before i found somebody who is willing to do it.”

his eyes turn black with jealousy, fire lighting up in them. within milliseconds, he’s grabbing your neck and kissing you just as harshly as you kissed him, teeth biting harshly on your lips.

you moan as he continues to kiss you, almost like he wants to prove a point to you. teeth clashing, hands clawing at each other, his hand around your neck squeezing tighter and tighter, making you wrap your legs around his hips tighter and pull him into yourself as he does so.

he pulls away aggressively, and his next words sounding like a fact, like it’s written in the stars, linger in the air for a second.

“even if you wanted to, you could never find somebody who would fuck you as good as i do.”

eyes laser focused on each other, you just utter two words as a response.

“prove it.”

getting right to it, his mouth attaches itself on your neck, sucking even more hickeys to the pre-existing ones from last night. while his mouth is busy with marking your skin, his hand wiggles under your back, fishing for the bra clasp. once he finds it, he quickly undoes it, pulling it down your arms before throwing it somewhere over his shoulder with no care whatsoever, even when it sounds like it crashed into what suspiciously sounds like the vase he got from one of his business partners.

choosing not to care, he lets his lips travel from your neck, to your collarbones, over the navel of your breast, straying to one side so he can suck on one of your tits, softly biting your nipple that causes you to moan loudly and grasp his hair in your hands.

he does it for a few more seconds, letting his hand massage the tit that isn’t getting the same attention as the one in his mouth, before resumes kissing a trail down your body.

once he gets down to you hips, he looks up to you over his short bangs that are getting in his eyes. the said eyes look at you like a hawk, preying on you, excited to see your anticipation and shiny eyes looking back at him.

he just lets his lips and nose travel of the skin of your lower belly, making it flex from the tickling sensation. once they reach your left hip, he lets his lips envelope the skin there and suck on it, a hickey forming on its place.

letting his lips pop, he looks up at you as he lets his head move even lower, until his lips are hovering right over the lacy panties you are wearing.

you hold your breath as you wait to see what he next move will be.

god, you hope to god that he will just-

just as the thought crossed your mind, cheol puts his opened mouth over your clothed pussy, prodding at the covered slit with his tongue, paying the special attention to your clit. the fabric that is still on you makes his action all that more stimulating, making you throw your head back as you moan.

hands fly to his still wet hair, pulling on it harshly, maybe in hopes that you can pull him in deeper, make his tongue finally enter your hole.

almost as if he can read your mind, he pushes your underwear to the side with the two of his fingers. the moment he sees your pussy, glistening with wetness, his lips are on you, parting your lips with his tongue, entering your pussy. he swirls his tongue around the entrance, gathering all your precum before swallowing it all, moaning at the taste.

quickly he starts pulling on your underwear, mumbling something along the lines off “off, off, i need these off now.”, before he throws them over his shoulder too.

placing your legs so they are resting on his shoulders, he immediately prods with one of his fingers at your whole, letting your walls swallow it whole. his lips wrap themselves around your clit, sucking on it just the right way.

you close your eyes in pleasure, your desires finally being fulfilled just like you dreamed of them to be.

not only was choi seungcheol a walking dream, sex appeal on legs.

he was also between your legs.

he continues to fuck his finger in you, twisting his hand when he’s pushing it in and un-twisting it when pulling out.

after a minute or so, he pulls the finger completely out in favour of pushing two back in. you squeeze your thighs around his head as he does so, moaning his name.

��cheol…”

choosing to ignore you, he just speeds up his movements, tongue still playing with your clit.

you taste so good on his tongue, it makes cheol close his eyes and groan every time he swallows.

the longer he eats you out, the more careless and messy he gets. he lets saliva cover your whole pussy, almost dripping on his leather couch. he lets his fingers push in and out of you at merciless speed, the fingertips grazing your sweet spot every time he tries to reach deeper inside of your pussy.

it all makes you feel lightheaded, moaning mess, your back arch, so much so that your whole upper body almost lifts off the couch.

“ah! cheol, more, ple-please!”

cheol never one to deny his lady anything, just speeds up his motion, sucking on your clit while his tongue pries at your entrance along with his fingers.

just as you feel yourself on the brink of cumming, your moans getting so loud they ring inside of cheol’s ears, he pulls completely away, slowly getting on his knees to admire the mess that he made of you.

tears streaming down your cheeks, your hair making it look like you have a halo around your head.

your chest heave up and down as you try to regain some of the air, nipples rock hard under his gaze.

your skin so prettily lathered with the hickeys, marking what’s his.

cheol just then realises that he started calling you his inside his head, no other reason other than the fact that you earlier mentioned the possibility of going to other men to get what you want.

he will be damned before he lets that happen.

and then your pussy. god, it looks so pretty, glistening under the light, his spit mixed with your juices, smeared all around your lips and thighs.

cheol was never that interested in art that much, but he’s pretty sure that this-you, is what a masterpiece is supposed to look like.

he suddenly realises that you have been calling his name the entire time, whining and almost crying in frustration-in need.

“cheollie please just-just fuck me already.”, you say as you pull on him with the hold of your legs that have wrapped themselves around his hips.

he immediately leans down over you, caging you with his arms around your head, his lips immediately finding yours in a hungry kiss.

just as his hand reaches down to take his dick so he can finally push it inside your gaping pussy, he suddenly remembers.

fuck, he forgot the condom.

humming in your mouth, he mumbles against them “wait baby, I forgot the condom, let me just get it from the-“, but he feels your legs just tighten around his waist, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, preventing him from getting up.

you mumble through a kiss “if you get up now, i will cry and make myself cum, all without you.”

well, alright then.

cheol just groans at the thought of having his dick in your pussy, with no condom to get in the way of truly feeling the wetness of your pussy.

little to excitedly, he takes his dick in his hand, and for a second just teases your folds with his tip, sliding it up and down, catching on your clit as he pulls it down.

as you start whining softly in desperation, telling him “hurry up” in a soft voice, cheol decides that it’s time.

and then he’s pushing in.

you both gasp at the feeling- you at the mere girth of his cock, and he because of how wet it feels to have his dick in your pussy.

he pushes a bit more in, but once he feels resistance due to you clamping on him almost painfully, he just kisses your cheeks in comfort, mumbling against them “relax baby or i won’t be able to give you all of my cock.”

you breathe in and out in hopes that it will help you relax, and it does, with help of his kisses and his hand rubbing your waist in comfort.

after a minute or so, you nod as a way to tell him that it’s okay for him to move. he continues to pepper little kisses on your face as he pushes his dick more in, groaning every so often at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him.

when he finally bottoms out, cheol lets a big breath out, relieved that he didn’t cum, which he felt multiple times almost happen due to your tight little pussy milking him so much.

i can’t, not yet, she has to cum first before i do.

with that thought, he starts to slowly rock his hips, making a fluid motion out of it. he feels his tip grazing your sweet spot, which makes you gasp and moan lightly, as well as rocking your hips into his a little bit.

you turn your face towards him, your eyes telling him clearly what you want from him.

he immediately kisses you, tongues dancing a beautiful and harmonious dance for a second and then pulling away just to do the same not even a second later.

he continues with the slow pace, rolling hips so professionally it makes you second-guess his profession.

but once you breathlessly whisper “more” against his lips, he’s doubling his pace, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs.

you stop kissing him in favour of moaning directly in his face, which seungcheol seems to enjoy just as much as your kisses.

“feels good, baby? yeah? fuck, you moan so prettily, all for me, only for me, hm? nobody fucks you as good as i do right? the same way nobody begs for my dick as beautifully as you do.”

you try to focus on his words and to answer him, you truly do, but his cock filling your pussy, sliding in and out of you, and hitting your spot repeatedly makes you forget all and every thought, only being able to respond “yes yes yes” over and over.

he groans as your pussy pulses around him, making him quicken his pace even more, his hips and balls slapping almost violently against your skin.

the words keep leaving from his mouth, but you’re just too focused on enjoy him fucking you like nobody has ever before, that you don’t even answer a question he asked you.

seungcheol doesn’t like that.

he stops his hips from moving, and as you open your mouth to complain, he quickly leaves a strong spank on the side of your ass, a gasp leaving your mouth instead.

“i said- is this my pussy, pretty girl? nobody can fuck you the way i do, hm?”

his eyes as black as obsidian, looking for an answer in your tear filled ones.

you nod your head, moaning as you try to rock your hips into his.

cheol doesn’t like that either.

he spanks you one more time, just as hard, a little scream escapes you as he does. “use your words baby, or i won’t make you cum.”

you nod as you respond “yes, yes, only you can, nobody ever fucked me so good as you.”

he kisses you quickly, tongue teasing your lips for a second before pulling away to ask “who does this pussy belong to baby? remind me again.”, he finishes with another spank to your cheek.

you moan as you desperately respond “yours, belongs to you, only you, p-please stop teasing me-“.

before you can continue, he starts fucking you again, hips slamming into you that you feel yourself move upwards on the couch from the mere force.

you scream as he rocks his hips, tears freely falling from your eyes now. you don’t even realise just how tight your nails have imbedded themselves into his back, pretty sure that you are drawing blood from them.

not that cheol seems to mind, he just groans at every little thing you give him, groaning “yes baby, just like that” in your ear.

still, deciding to spare him an ER visit, you switch to pulling on his hair instead.

which seems to be an even better thing, because he in return moans so loudly, eyes scrunched up in pleasure as you do so.

“fuck baby, don’t do that or i’ll cum right now right inside you.”

the thought makes you bite your lips, as well as clam your walls even tighter around him.

he notices this, causing a little smirk to play on the edge of his lips. “oh? would my pretty girl like that? for me to cum inside you? to cream your walls? hm?”

he looks carefully for your reaction, hoping that he isn’t crossing any lines with what he’s saying. but as you nod your head quickly, desperately saying “please! please please please please cum, cum inside of me-“, he just groans, the thought of cumming inside you, painting your walls white while your pussy takes in every last drop makes him almost cum right there and there.

seeing that he can’t go on for much longer, he lets his fingers find your clit, rubbing it just as fast as he’s fucking you, putting on just the littlest of pressure on it, knowing that it’s enough to make you finish.

your scream echoes through the room, hands pulling on his soft but wet hair like a maniac, feeling your end nearing at rapid pace.

“i need you to cum for me princess, now, fuck, cream on it baby, lemme feel you-“

and it’s done, with a cry, you throw your head back, your thighs squeeze his hips and you cum. you cum so hard that you squirt a little all over his thighs, making a mess out of him.

he, seemingly also almost there, just needs a little bit of your help, mainly just you saying “cum, please, cum inside me, need it so bad cheollie-“, he thrusts once, twice before he’s cumming inside of you, moaning in your face as he does so.

rocking his hips for a bit, to make sure that every last drop of his cum is fucked deeply inside of your pussy, he then drops his whole dead body onto your own, his legs shaking from how hard his orgasm hit him.

although he is a bit heavy, you don’t complain at all, instead hugging him even closer, welcoming his bulky body to squish you. it’s almost like it makes you feel grounded, as well as helping you clear up your mind, haziness due to your own finish clearing up the longer he lays there on you.

you two just breathe heavily for a minute, trying to regain your breaths as you rub his back, while his lips softly kiss your neck and cheeks.

he turns your face to his own so that he can kiss you gently, rubbing his thumb on your cheek in comfort.

he breaks the kiss off, his boba eyes looking at you as he gently asks “are you okay baby?”

you just nod your head with a tired smile.

“i didn’t overdo it, right? everything was okay? wasn’t too much?”

your smile spreads a big wider as you whisper “it was perfect…you are perfect.”

he smiles a little before softly pecking your lips, stopping only at one kiss in favour of whispering back “you are the one that’s perfect…my baby.”

you just loop your hands around his neck to pull him towards you, kissing him deeply and slowly, letting all your feelings and words you don’t trust to say out loud speak for themselves through that kiss.

after a minute or so, you feel his dick slowly get hard again, making you realise that he hasn’t pulled out the entire time.

you softly say “sorry about the mess i made on your couch.”

cheol just chuckles as he responds “i could care less about the couch, especially not after i just had you squirt all over it.”

you shyly hide your face in his neck, groaning in embarrassment as he chuckles some more.

suddenly, he grabs your thighs before going to slowly stand up, all while still holding your body wrapped around his.

you gasp as you get picked up, clamping onto his dick as you feel the shift in the angle.

cheol just groans as he starts carrying you towards his room, spanking your ass one more time as he walks.

“i’m not done with you yet.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

after two more rounds of wild and fast sex, you two lay there on his bed, both on your sides as you face each other, a thin blanket covering your bodies as the sweat on your bodies starts to slowly cool off.

seungcheol just looks at your face, almost like he’s in awe that a woman like you is truly in his bed and that has given him a chance, running the back of his finger up and down your cheek as you two quietly talk in what now has turned a dark room. the night slowly crept on you two, which you didn’t even realise until you fell onto the bed after you had just finished riding him into oblivion.

night, which reminds you…

you should slowly go home now.

you push his silky black hair back, looking at his youthful face and small smile.

god he’s so beautiful, I want to see him again.

you smile small, a little bit of bittersweetness visible in it, as you say quietly“i should probably go home soon.”

his mood sours immediately, a pout replacing the smile on his cherry red lips.

the arm that has been wrapped around your waist under the blanket tightens, pulling you closer to his body, almost likes he’s trying to prevent you from getting up.

ever so quietly, he whispers in the mostly dark room “do you have to?”.

the lamp that is turned on and is your only source of light illuminates his handsome face, eyes sparkling from the said light, begging you not to go.

you smile sadly as you respond “i should.”

he stays quiet for a second, teeth gnawing on his lip as he thinks about your words.

you just lean in to leave one last kiss on his lips, letting your presence and smell linger for a bit before you pull away and start to get up.

as you are sitting on the edge of the bed, looking for your things, you hear him shuffle behind you, but don’t pay him any attention, thinking that he’s probably just going to walk you out.

which quickly changes once you feel his arms wrap around your hips from behind, face nuzzling in your neck.

you turn your head to look at him surprised, the top his head only greeting you in return.

he tightens his hug around your waist, his legs spread so that you’re basically sitting between them.

and then, in the quietest and most unsure voice he asks you.

“stay? please? tomorrow is sunday after all…and-and I don’t want you to leave… i don’t want this to be over yet…”

you unconsciously start pouting yourself at his voice, heart breaking at how sad he sounds that you have to go.

you fish with your point finger for his chin, saying a little “cheollie, look at me, please baby.”

after a second or two, he lifts his head from your shoulder, face red from the lack of oxygen.

you smile a little at him before you say “okay, i’ll stay, but tomorrow i really need to go, because i have work on monday and i can’t miss it.”

you pause for a second to gulp your nervousness down before continuing “and…”

he just looks at you with puppy eyes, seeing you get flustered in real time, but doesn’t say anything to interrupt you.

you just look at him a bit embarrassed as you finish “…who says that this has to end?”

cheol just blinks for a second before the implication of your words finally delivers in his head, making a big smile explode on his face.

quickly kissing you, he lets your bodies fall back on the bed, his arms still tightly wrapped around you, making it hard for you to turn around so you can kiss him properly.

god, choi seungcheol, what are you doing to me?

[murcielagatito]

i need every single tv show ever made ever again to have a minimum of three latino characters at all times bc how tf r we the biggest poc population in usam yet our media doesnt represent that

[landoughnut]

The Tube Top Incident - KA12

masterlist - request

pairing: kimi antonelli x horner!fem!reader

summary: your top fails you in the paddock, so you go to kimi's garage, but when you're father sees his shirt on you, he doesn't take it lightly

w/c & a/n: 1.2k | this is based off of this request! thanks for sending it babe :)

"This is bad. This is so, so bad."

Your heart was now racing as you rushed through the paddock, one hand clutching the torn fabric of your top over yourself while the other frantically tried to keep yourself covered.

Eyes darted around, scanning for anyone who might notice Christian Horners daughter's very obvious wardrobe malfunction.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. And right now, that meant getting to Kimi's room without being seen.

It was one thing for you to date a driver, but a Mercedes driver? That was practically treason in your dad's eyes.

You barely managed to slip inside your boyfriend's room, slamming the door behind you, chest heaving.

Kimi, who had been lounging on his couch, looked up lazily from his phone—only for his blue eyes to widen slightly as he took you in. Then, a slow, amused smirk spread across his lips.

“Well, this is interesting,” he drawled, stretching his arms behind him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He tilts his head, eyes shamelessly raking over you, “Did you come running into my room half-dressed just because you missed me?”

“Kimi!” you hissed, still clutching your ruined top. “Are you serious right now? My top just ripped open in the middle of the paddock, and I was about two seconds away from flashing half the grid!”

Kimi tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “I mean… I wouldn’t complain.”

You groaned. “Kimi.”

He chuckled, finally standing up and pulling his team shirt over his head. “Relax, amore. Here.” He dangled it in front of you, but when you reached for it, he tugged it just out of reach, his boyish grin never fading.

You glared. “Kimi, give me the damn shirt.”

“What’s the rush? It’s just us here.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “Unless… you want me to help you put it on?”

Your face burned. “Oh my God, you’re the worst.”

"What?" He exclaimed, "I've seen you in less, you know."

"Oh my gosh! Shut up," you look away, now blushing even more.

He finally handed it over, laughing as you snatched it and turned away to pull it on. His shirt was oversized on you, the fabric soft and smelling like him.

"Drop your smile, this isn't a joking matter," you huff.

"I don't know, amore... this is pretty funny to me," he grins.

Just as you sighed in relief, thinking you had escaped disaster, the worst possible voice rang out from behind you.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?”

You froze. Kimi’s gaze flicked past you, his body stiffening slightly. You turned slowly to face your father, who was standing at the entrance of the room, eyes narrowed and arms crossed.

His gaze flicked to your oversized shirt, then to Kimi, then back to you. The realization dawned quickly.

“You— him—” Your dad's face turned an alarming shade of red. “You’re dating Antonelli?”

Kimi doesn't move but he does gently grab your hand with his, likely trying to comfort you.

You winced. “Okay, first of all, let’s not have an aneurysm about it—”

“Oh, I’ll have an aneurysm if I damn well please!” he snapped. “You are my daughter, and you are not dating a Mercedes driver—especially not behind my back!”

Kimi, to his credit, stayed calm, his usual cool demeanor unfazed. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think your daughter needs your permission to date me. In ogni caso, sono innamorato di lei,” he cracks a tiny smile, eyes soft and glancing at you.

Christian gaped at him. “With all due— Are you serious? Do you even know who I am?”

“Yes, not that it matters,” Kimi said smoothly.

You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing. Your dad looked like he was going to pass out and he looked back and forth between you two.

“This is unacceptable,” he declared. “You’re getting out of that shirt right now.”

“Yeah, not happening,” you shot back. “Unless you’d rather me walk around half-naked?”

Christian spluttered, trying to think something to say.

Finally, he groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “We are not done discussing this. Find something else to wear.”

“Oh, I figured,” you said, rolling your eyes.

He stormed off, still muttering under his breath, while Kimi turned to you with an amused smirk. “So… do I get to keep my girlfriend, or do I need to prepare for war?”

You sighed dramatically. “It’s Christian Horner. It’s always a war.”

Kimi chuckled, slipping an arm around your waist. “Don't worry, mi amore, I'd win a war for you.”

Later that evening, after the chaos had settled and your father had stormed off to complain to someone else, you found yourself tucked away in Kimi’s motorhome.

You greatly enjoyed the quiet moments like this, there weren't many times when the opportunity came about.

You sat between Kimi’s legs on the couch still wrapped in his oversized Mercedes shirt, your back pressed against his chest. Some random movie playing in the background.

His fingers traced lazy circles on your exposed thigh, the fabric having ridden up as you curled into him.

“I think my dad’s going to try and have you exiled,” you murmured, tilting your head back against his shoulder with a small smile.

Kimi chuckled, his breath warm against your neck. “He can try.” His lips brushed against the sensitive skin just below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You let out a slow breath, your hand reaching up to tangle in his hair as he pressed another lingering kiss against your neck. His hands, warm and soft, slid up your sides, just barely ghosting over your ribs, making you squirm and laugh.

“Kimi,” you warned, but there was no real bite to it.

He hummed, his grip tightening slightly as he turned you around in his lap, his blue eyes dark with amusement. “You’re still wearing my shirt,” he whispered, his fingers playing with the hem.

“Well, you did give it to me.” You shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His lips curled into a smirk of his own. “Mmm. I did. But now I’m wondering if I should’ve asked for something in return. And I think it would look better on the floor.”

You gasp, "Kimi! You naughty boy," you lightly slap his arm. You rolled your eyes playfully, “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

You didn’t have a comeback for that, not when he leaned in and kissed you, stealing the air from your lungs. You comb you hands through his fluffy hair and he lets out a content sigh.

His hands wandered, exploring, teasing, until you were practically melting against him.

By the time you pulled back, your cheeks were flushed and lips a little more plumped and Kimi looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“Your dad is going to kill me,” he mused, brushing his thumb over your kiss-swollen lips. This was his favorite look of yours.

You grinned, breathless. “Not if I kill him first.”

Kimi laughed lightly, pulling you in again. “I like the way you think, mi amore.”

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

Second Times a Charm

Bob Reynolds x Reader

Summary: After a small dog escape, Bob meets you and doesn’t end up exchanging details with you. Thinking it was just meant to be a one time thing till Maisie your dog brings you back together and eventually starts a relationship. But the Thunderbolts are suspicious when Bob lately has been in a too good of a mood so they all decide to track and investigate it.

WC: 3.3K

A/N: Guys… I might redo this it’s def not the best fic ive down, i’m like drained with all the fica ive released in the last week. #grind #slowingdownnow

⸻

Central Park, Late Spring.

Bob wasn’t much of a runner, yet.

He liked walking. He’d only recently learned to enjoy the quiet discipline of it. No heavy footfalls, no pounding heart. Just motion. Just breath. A rhythm he could set. Something calm and human and entirely his own.

The chaos in his head, dark, howling, bottomless, was quieter when he walked. Especially here.

Central Park in the spring was like something from a memory he’d never had. Trees budding green again. Sunlight catching in the ripples of the lake. Children laughing distantly, dogs barking somewhere beyond the trees. The world felt simple when he was out here. Manageable.

His boots crunched lightly against the gravel path as he made his way to his usual spot, a bench by the water, partially shaded by an overgrown maple. The bench itself was old, paint worn off at the edges, wood slightly splintered at the armrests. But it was his bench. The one he rested on during each walk, always at the same point in the loop.

He sat down with a soft sigh, stretched his long legs out, and tilted his face toward the sun. Eyes closed. Breathing even. Peace-

THUD.

Something hit his knee.

Bob startled slightly, blinking down in confusion. A leash, frayed and pink with little daisies on it, was coiled loosely around his shin. And attached to the other end.

A golden retriever.

Tongue out, tail wagging like it was powered by joy alone. Its big brown eyes looked up at him like he was the best thing it had seen all day. The leash dragged behind her like an afterthought.

“Oh- hey, buddy.” Bob said softly, as if afraid to scare her off. “You… uh. You got loose?”

The dog barked once, as if to answer.

Then-

“Maisie!” a voice called out, breathless, somewhere down the path. “You little menace, come back!”

He looked up.

And there you were.

Jogging toward him, your stride uneven from the sudden sprint. A t-shirt clung damply to your back, your hair pulled messily away from your face, cheeks flushed from exertion and probably a little embarrassment. There was something raw and real about you, like you hadn’t had time to smooth yourself into what the world expected yet. Something golden about the way the light seemed to settle on you, drawn in like gravity.

Bob felt the breath knock out of him in a way that had nothing to do with superpowers.

You reached him with a huff, one hand clutching your phone, the other already moving to scoop up the leash.

“I’m so sorry.” you said, slightly winded but grinning as you crouched beside him. “She gets overly excited when people sit down. Thinks everyone’s her new best friend.”

Bob smiled, half-crouched next to the retriever. “She’s not wrong. I could use a friend.”

You gave a short, surprised laugh. It made his stomach do something it hadn’t done in years.

“She didn’t bite you or anything, did she?”

“No, she just… announced herself with enthusiasm.” He gave the dog a fond pat. “Maisie, right?”

You nodded, finally catching your breath. “Yeah. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Bob.” he said, rising a bit awkwardly and offering a hand. You shook it, firm but warm.

“Thanks for catching her.”

“Of course. It’s not every day someone runs into you with a leash.”

Your smile turned shy at the edges. “No, usually I wait until the third date for that.”

Bob blinked.

You blinked.

Then you both burst out laughing.

The tension in his chest eased. Something about your energy was grounding. You weren’t looking at him like you sensed something was off, like people so often did. You were just… smiling.

You ended up walking together. Slowly at first, letting Maisie sniff her way along the path. You talked about how long you’d lived in the city, how your dog hated pigeons with irrational fury, how the best bagels were always from the sketchy places with no signs.

Bob told you he’d just recently gotten into walking every day. That it helped clear his head. That he liked being outside, in the real world. You asked what he did for work and he gave you the kind of vague answer that didn’t invite more questions, freelance consulting, logistics, a lot of government red tape. You nodded like you understood. Like you weren’t going to pry.

He liked that.

You laughed easily, shared the story of how you got Maisie from a rescue uptown, and how she’d managed to eat an entire rotisserie chicken when you turned your back on her once. Bob listened, enraptured. Every word from you felt like it mattered.

Eventually, the path forked.

“This is me.” you said, motioning left toward a small side path. The sun dappled your skin, your smile soft and open.

He pointed to the opposite direction. “And this is me.”

“See you around?”

“I hope so.”

You both turned, walking away.

Bob finds himself turning around to get one last glimpse of you just to properly engrave your memory into his head permanently. So he can brood and think about the time he was sure he met his future wife but forgot to ask for her number and couldn’t ask for it after because he was far too far already to ask without making it awkward.

Five feet.

Ten.

Twenty-

Then, the clatter of a leash.

“Maisie!” you gasped.

Bob turned just in time to catch the dog as she barreled into him like a guided missile. He braced, kneeling again, catching the leash before it tangled. Maisie’s tongue was already swiping at his face.

You came jogging back, hands on your hips, a groan half-laughing in your throat. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He stood, leash in hand, grinning.

“I think she’s in love with you.” you said, huffing as you reached him.

Bob looked at you, really looked.

His voice was quiet, but sincere. “Yeah. Me too.”

There was a heartbeat of silence between you.

You tilted your head, eyes flickering with interest.

He panicked.

“I mean- I didn’t mean me, I meant her-obviously, she- your dog- I just- uh-“

You laughed. A full, sparkling, head-tossing laugh that made Maisie wag her tail harder.

“Just- give me your phone, smooth-talker.”

He blinked.

You tapped your fingers. “Come on. Before she escapes again.”

He fumbled to pull it out, handing it over. You typed in your number, saved it with a little dog emoji next to your name, and handed it back.

“There. Now next time she escapes, you’ll have someone to blame.”

He looked at your name glowing on the screen.

“I’ll take that risk.”

Maisie barked again, triumphant, like she’d orchestrated this entire meeting with divine precision. Bob was still staring at your contact in his phone, thumb hovering over the screen like it was too delicate to touch, as if the moment might vanish if he blinked too hard.

You watched him for a beat longer, a smile tucked lazily in the corner of your mouth. There was something about him, tall and a little awkward, like he wasn’t used to being seen, really seen, but trying his best not to flinch when he was.

“I’ll, uh, text you,” Bob said, looking up, finally pocketing his phone. His voice was shy, but hopeful.

You nodded, stepping back, tugging gently on Maisie’s leash. “Good. And if you don’t, Maisie has your scent now. She’ll track you down.”

Bob gave a quiet, stunned laugh. “I believe it.”

You gave a mock salute and turned again, this time getting a few full strides before Maisie glanced back one more time, gave a soft whine, and mercifully kept walking with you.

He stood there, still half-smiling, until you and the dog disappeared down the winding path. The sounds of the park filtered back in, the breeze shaking the leaves above him, the faint honk of a distant cab, a couple laughing somewhere nearby.

And yet, everything felt different now.

It wasn’t until he sat back on the bench and

his fingers brushed the screen of his phone again, flicking it on to see your name one more time ”Y/N 🐾” glowing there like a small miracle.

⸻

Several weeks later. Thunderbolts tower.

Something had shifted.

It wasn’t drastic. No dramatic speeches. No cape swirling in the wind. But everyone noticed.

Bob was… different.

Lighter, somehow. More present. Like the edges of him, usually a little frayed from the weight he carried, had softened.

He was humming in the kitchen again, swaying slightly as he flipped pancakes with ease, the scent of cinnamon and maple drifting through the tower. Not unusual for Bob, he always cooked but there was something extra in it now. A rhythm. A bounce.

He didn’t pester John or clap back when John picked on him.

He smiled, a full, crinkled-eyes smile when Bucky called him Bobert.

And he hadn’t once spent the evening perched on the edge of the roof with a faraway look in his eyes.

It was deeply suspicious.

Yelena narrowed her eyes over the rim of her chipped mug, the steam from her jasmine tea curling around her face like mist. “You’re in love.”

Bob, mid-sip of his chalky protein shake, choked. Hard. He slammed the cup down and coughed until his ears turned pink.

“What?” he rasped.

“Don’t play dumb.” She leaned back, eyes sharp as glass. “You’re glowing. Like a woman in a shampoo commercial. Maybe Herbal Essences.”

Ava didn’t look up from polishing her blade. “He does smell like flowers lately.”

“Lavender and bergamot.” John added helpfully, arms crossed, brows raised. “He’s got that post-date aura. Like a dog who got into someone’s picnic basket and is too proud to feel bad.”

He is in love.” Alexei declared, pounding the arm of the couch like it was a gavel. “We must find her. See if she is worthy. Possibly interrogate her.”

Bob set down his smoothie and raised both hands. “Okay. No. First of all, no one’s evaluating anyone’s bloodline. Second, there is no girl.”

Yelena ignored him and reached for her phone. “He always leaves early. Walks the same route. Central Park. South entrance. Between 9:00 to 9:20.”

“You’ve been tracking me?” Bob blinked.

“You radiate suspicious energy.” she said simply. “We go. We spy. We report.”

“Absolutely not.” Bob said, half-laughing, half-panicked. “You are not stalking my-”

He froze.

Yelena’s eyes glittered. “My…?”

Bob sighed, pressing his hands to his face. “This is a violation of privacy.”

“This is family,” Yelena said smugly. “Deal with it, Bobert.”

“Don’t care.” Ava said. “If she broke his heart, he’d black out the sky.”

“She’s not going to break my heart.” Bob said quietly.

Everyone fell silent for a beat.

John grinned, nudging Ava. “Oh, he’s gone. Deep in the fluffy feelings.”

“Leave him alone.” Bucky muttered from the kitchen, pouring coffee. “Let the man have his peace.”

Yelena looked up with a sly smirk. “I will. After surveillance.”

“Yelena.”

“Fine.” she said, tossing her phone aside. “But if she shows up at tower, we’re giving her the talk.”

Bob rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks faintly pink. “She’s not showing up. She doesn’t even know who I really am yet.”

“Oh my God,” John whispered. “You met her as Bob, not The Sentry.”

Bob nodded.

Alexei let out a low whistle. “A civilian. You are in love.”

Bob just smiled softly into his hands, then reached for the waffle iron.

⸻

The Next Morning

The sun hadn’t quite crested over the tops of the brownstone buildings, but the world was already beginning to stir with the soft hum of morning life. The air was crisp and clean, the kind of morning that made everything feel a little more possible.

You jogged at an easy pace, Maisie trotting contentedly beside you, her leash loose in your hand. The rhythmic beat of your sneakers on the pavement echoed faintly through the quiet streets, punctuated only by birdsong and the rustling of early spring leaves dancing in the breeze. Your breath came steady, matching the easy cadence of the run, a ritual that had quickly become your favorite part of the day.

As you rounded the familiar bend, your eyes were drawn to the sprawling oak tree up ahead, the one that sat at the edge of the park like a quiet sentinel. The one where, not long ago, your world had started to shift.

And there he was.

Bob stood beneath it, leaning casually against the trunk like some lost chapter from a storybook, sunlight catching in the soft strands of his hair. He was wearing that same beat-up flannel jacket you’d teased him about, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing forearms that didn’t match his otherwise gentle demeanor. His posture was relaxed, but there was a tension in his hands, like he was trying not to fidget too much, not to overthink how this moment would go.

He saw you and straightened, raising a hand in a shy wave. That smile, the one that looked like it started in his chest before reaching his lips curled faintly at the edges of his mouth.

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Not the jarring kind of panic, but the warm flutter that made your fingers buzz and your throat tighten just slightly. The hopeful kind.

“Morning.” he called out softly, stepping forward.

In his hands, like a peace offering or a promise, was a steaming cup of coffee.

You slowed to a stop in front of him, brushing a few loose strands of hair from your damp forehead as Maisie circled your legs before flopping dramatically at your feet, before giving him sincere kiss on the lips.

Even after the countless times Bob still can’t help but feel himself grow hot and red.

“You remembered my order.”you said with a grin, accepting the cup. The warmth of it bled into your palms instantly.

“Black, two sugars,” Bob said with a quiet nod sheepishly. “Just how you like it.”

There was something almost reverent about the way he looked at you, like he was surprised you were real, standing there in front of him, flushed from your run and smiling at him like that kiss didn’t just make him see stars.

You were about to thank him when a strange rustling noise rose from the dense shrubbery a few feet away. You turned your head, brows furrowed.

Then, you heard it.

“Oh my god, she’s real.”

“Shut up, John.”

“Bob’s got moves?”

“I told you he had game.”

Your eyes narrowed, confusion knitting across your brow. You looked back at Bob, who had suddenly gone still, his expression a blend of horror and resignation. He muttered something under his breath, something that might’ve been a prayer or a curse before dragging a hand down his face like a man preparing for battle.

“…Did your coffee just talk?” you asked, clutching the cup tighter.

And then it happened.

Like the world’s worst magic trick or maybe a particularly ill-conceived prank, five adults dressed in tactical gear emerged from behind the bushes, one by one. They looked like they’d walked off the set of some spy movie, complete with holsters, combat boots, and the deeply awkward expressions of people who had absolutely not been invited to the party.

You blinked. Maisie let out a low, confused whimper and sat up straight beside you, ears alert.

“What the…” you murmured.

Bob let out a breath like it hurt. “No. No, I’m not being hunted.” He gave you a sheepish glance, eyes full of something between embarrassment and silent pleading. “It’s worse. That’s… that’s my team.”

Yelena strode forward like a woman on a mission, sharp eyes locked on you with unsettling precision. She had the look of someone who could kill a man with a paperclip and still be the most charming person in the room.

“You’re very pretty.” she smiles, offering you a firm handshake. “Congratulations.”

You stared. “…Thank you?”

Before you could process that, another stepped forward, a tall man with slightly blonde hair and a sharp face, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. He gave you a polite nod, his voice low and oddly gentle for someone wearing enough gear to storm a bunker.

“I’m John.” he said. “Bobby here has never acted like this around anyone. Ever.”

Your heart rate kicked up a notch. “I’m scared.” you whispered.

Ava moved closer, her approach quieter, more thoughtful. She had a steadiness about her, like she was used to chaos and knew how to navigate it. She gave your arm a soft, almost comforting pat.

“So are we.” she said, deadpan.

Interrupting the two, Alexei decided it was his turn to say something but by grabbing her and picking her up to spin her around all while yelling to Bob who looked like he was going to pass out if he as so much dropped her by an inch. “Robert! Yes! I am so glad you will not be sad lonely sad man rest of your life!”

Finally after being put down to Bob’s protest and mummurs from the team “Too much buddy.” Behind her, Bucky followed, trying to look casual despite the overwhelming energy of intervention. Bucky, simply nodded once, arms crossed, eyes flickering between you and Bob like he was trying to decode a threat level.

Bob sighed audibly, then leaned in just slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t know they were going to do this.”

You stared at him, at his ridiculous, sweet face and the earnestness in his eyes. And against your better judgment, despite the absolutely surreal moment, your lips twitched.

“You’re lucky I love you, i would have ran screaming. Not every you meet The Avengers on your run.” you muttered.

A long beat of silence passed, broken only by Maisie giving a grumble of displeasure and flopping dramatically against your calf. Then Bob looked back at his team, then at you, and offered a half-resigned shrug.

“Well uh- Welcome to the family.” he said softly.

And somehow, despite the thick gear, the ambush, and the fact that your morning coffee had turned into a stakeout, you believed him.

⸻

That night, in the kitchen.

Bob sat perched on the counter, cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink, not from exertion, but from a quiet embarrassment as the team retold the morning’s story for what felt like the fifteenth time.

You had left with a smile and a wave, promising to call. That promise replayed in Bob’s mind, steady and surreal.

He wasn’t sure if it was real. If you were real. If something this ordinary, this good, could really happen to someone like him.

“She liked you.” Yelena said, eyes sharp but kind. “Even after meeting us. That’s real love.”

The words hung in the air, warm and heavy.

And then Bob… cracked.

He pushed off the counter, fingers running through his hair in nervous rhythm. He paced a little, then turned back to them, eyes wide, raw.

“I’m dating her.” he blurted.

Bucky, never missing a beat, deadpanned, “We noticed.”

“No, I mean really dating. She calls me. She texts me. She wants to know how my day went. She laughs at my dumb jokes and all of them. And she… she touches my hand like it’s normal. Like I’m not made of… whatever I’m made of.”

His voice faltered as he took a shaky breath.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get something like this. Not with what’s in my head. Not with what I’ve done or what I could do. But she looks at me like I’m just some guy she met in the park. And I want to keep being that guy. For her.”

Silence settled over the kitchen.

Then Alexei broke it with a loud clap. “Bob is in love.”

John raised his glass with a sly grin. “To leash girl.”

“To Maisie.” Ava added, a soft smile touching her lips.

Bucky simply smiled, steady and warm. “To hope of a regular life.”

Bob sank back down on the counter, dazed, full of it, full of something he hadn’t dared to hope for in a long time.

⸻

[cheralith]

— baby blue. feat. michael kaiser || wc: 890 cw: gn!reader, no pronouns used, girldad!kaiser, parenthood, no explicit birth process/pregnancy mentioned, fluff, lightly suggestive at the end a/n: rather lazy writing soz! nothing too deep here i just felt like being soft

"why are you so small."

"micha, she's an infant," you sigh as your husband narrows his eyes at the little baby girl held in your arms that just simply stares back at him blankly with doe-like gaze that mimic yours.

kaiser crosses his arms almost stubbornly as your daughter babbles at him, smiling widely despite the frown on his face. she shoves her head into your chest, pretending to hide herself, before she peeks out curiously to look at him, then giggling again when she sees him in the same position.

it's hard to see, but you see his eyes soften slightly at her laughter, ocean hues that match hers lowering their guard.

"so?" he mutters. "yoichi's son is growing so fast already, she needs to catch up."

"maybe because he was born four months before she was?" you suggest with a roll of your eyes, cradling your daughter's head tenderly as she rests her cheek on your chest again, the baby fat squishing against her face.

your statement that bypasses his sense of logic completely, kaiser going to pick her up from your lap and examine her body like a foreign specimen. she coos at him, her legs swinging in the air and gloved hands flailing about as he twists and turns her, brows pinched in concentration.

kaiser turns her toward his stony gaze again. his sourness goes completely unnoticed by her, a look that your daughter doesn't understand the meaning of, so she merely imitates her father when he tilts his head at her, her golden locks drooping over her face when she repeats his action curiously. you fight the urge to laugh, the playfulness she gained from you peeking through.

"you need to start crawling soon," he states sternly to her. "your life plan estimates that you'll begin to crawl once you're around seven months, but it's never too bad to start early."

babytalk isn't in kaiser's nature when it comes to your daughter—he'd rather talk to her in a more professional manner, one that mirrors a boss to an office associate, with the only time he tried it resulting in him cringing at himself and leaving ness, her godfather, to do the work for him. surprisingly enough, however, everything else in parenthood naturally to him—changing diapers, rocking her to sleep, even his sense in fashion when picking her clothes out seemed so intrinsically normal for him.

"you're getting quite chubby, too," he mutters, glancing at her belly that sticks out a little from her sky blue onesie—courtesy of him, of course. nearly all her closet is in different shades of the striking blue that tints her father's hair. "that's good, though. you need to grow big and strong so you can overtake yoichi's brat. give me something to boast about."

"oh my god, why are you treating her as if she's some sort of pawn?" you exasperate. "she's your kid."

"exactly," kaiser affirms with a nod of his head. "she's my kid so like her dad, she needs to be the best. her father's not a world-class soccer player for nothing," your husband turns to your daughter again, gently planting his forehead against her own as though he was giving her some sort of pep-talk like his coach does to him before games. "you've got some huge shoes to fill, you know that?"

your daughter only incoherently jabbers again, happily babbling and smacking her hands to the sides of his face, laughing when he visibly winces at the impact of her tiny fists on his temples. kaiser pulls a sour face at the pain and pulls her back from him, but his frown is quickly replaced with a confident smirk.

"you've got my strength already, huh?" he remarks slyly to your daughter, to which she replies with a soft giggle at the familiar u-shape of his lips—one that she knows people make when they're happy. "perfect. you're perfect. you're going to be the best in the world, i can feel it."

"don't set her up for high expectations," you warn to him, your warning going over his head as he swaddles your daughter in his arms and takes her away from you, plotting something to your disdain.

an upbringing of sorrow and isolation had made your husband rather apprehensive when he learned he was going to be a father. you suppose that because kaiser knew the worst of the worst from a child's point of view that it compelled him to offer only the best things in life to his daughter, hence why he spoiled her endlessly and gave her everything in life that he wasn't able to get when he was a child.

he wanted to ensure that his daughter knew she was wanted in life, unlike he was, that her existence was born from love and desire. and while he had an odd way of showing his love, the way he watched over her, cared for her, and nurtured her was still love all the same.

"you know what a soccer ball is?" he asks her as he presses a gentle kiss to her head, her little "aguh!" making him nod affirmingly. "good. get used to it. think of it as your sibling for now."

kaiser then throws a look over his shoulder, catching your gaze.

"just until you get an actual one," he says, his snicker being mimicked by your daughter when you gawk at him.

like father, like daughter—almost too much so to your discontent.

[riddlesrose]

the small things he does pt. 2

w/ jamil, trey, vil, jade, rook & malleus

part one | part three

jamil knows each one of your habits, even the ones you think he doesn't, he does. his observance knows no end, he's always taking in information and storing it in parts of his mind that he can flip through like a filing cabinet. he can tell when you're overthinking something, or not thinking enough solely because he knows what to look for. he uses his observance against you sometimes, you simply can't hide anything from him. (stupid jamil and his educated guesses.)

trey shows up to the ramshackle dorm once a week with a small tray of desserts. it took him no time to realize which ones you'd set your sights on first; he starts bringing more of it, claiming 'there was extra' with a shrug. you knew it wasn't extra, ace, deuce, and hell, even grim wouldn't let a tray of trey's delicate sweets go to waste. you know he fought them off with a figurative stick to get them here untouched.

vil watches every ridiculous video you send him on magicam and reacts to the one or two he actually finds funny. he'll always reply to the cheesy relationship posts you send but he won't ever tell you about the small smile that graces his gorgeous features, no matter the attempts to suppress them. (rook caught him blushing lightly once and almost had his personal collections cursed.)

jade invites you to the mostro lounge under the guise that he's in need of help, but you quickly figured after the second visit upon jade's request that he is, in fact, perfectly fine and in need of no help, nor is the lounge in any dire need of an extra server. he just wanted you around. (an extra set of eyes on floyd never hurt anyone, either..)

rook uses your face as a makeup palette, "this is la roi du poison's new collection, you must let me try them out!" so you're sat in front of his vanity, face mismatched in foundations and blushes until rook finds your colours and shade matches, gushing about vil's inclusivity for all skin types and the coverage for such a small amount of product. you're left looking a little silly with a few incorrectly matched shade swatches on your cheek and neck but whatever makes the huntsman happy.

malleus leaves small flowers on the front step of ramshackle dorm before you know who he is, when he's still horton to you. you've never been able to catch who's leaving them, they're gone just as quick as you heard the rustling outside. when you're actually acquainted by name after the SDC he continues to leave colourful flowers on your doorstep, this time with a note, signing his actual name, inviting you along a walk occasionally.

heart eyes for my underrated jamil viper

masterlist

[kazusys]

— kissing under the mistletoe.

kissing genshin men under the mistletoe! / fluff / no cw / other: you’re not dating in all scenarios! (❕) a/n: i did NOT proofread. but this took me a bit… hope you guys enjoy nonetheless! happy holidays! :)

characters included: albedo, childe, cyno, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, lyney, scaramouche, tighnari, wriothesley, xiao, and zhongli.

wc: ~4.4k words

“relax, it’ll be fine!” he said. “just lead her to the mistletoe when you two are chatting at the party; after all, you both are probably going to stick together the entire time anyways.”

that was kaeya’s advice. of course albedo took it, considering the probabilities of it working due to his insane roster of people fawning over him for just existing. of course he’d be more educated in this area.

but how would he be able to enact said advice if the guy who gave the advice in the first place was busy taking up all your time at the stupid party?

albedo was ready to just head home at this point. there was no point in waiting for you if he was most likely going to chicken out in the end anyways.

a boisterous laugh from kaeya brought albedo out of his little slump as he looked over, watching as the guy pushed you lightly his direction. you seemed… almost bashful. it was cute.

you shuffled through the people dancing and walking around before stopping in front of him.

“hey, ‘bedo.” you smile.

“(y/n), it’s good to see you here.” albedo returned, realizing that besides the initial hello you two shared before you were whisked away elsewhere, this was the first time he’d been able to talk to you tonight.

“good to see you too, i was thinking— there’s this place i wanna show you outside of the party, would you want an escape for a bit?”

he followed you immediately.

the spot was serene. the backdrop of all the constellations and the hanging moon in the sky were in full view, a couple trees here and there adorning the already pleasing landscape. albedo wished he had brought something to paint with, but a mental remembrance would have to do for now.

“it’s… stunning.” he murmured out as you continued walking. you went over to a tree whose leaves leaned forward just a bit, providing some shade. you sat down under it, patting the ground next to you.

this was his sort of paradise. the cool breezes, the quiet atmosphere, the world seemingly frozen as you two sat so close that one movement would have your arms brushing together.

he made that one movement.

you gave him a glance before seemingly staring at the sky. “look up in the branches of the tree.”

he did so without a word, his eyes zeroing in at the singular, small irregularity amongst the greenery of the tree.

mistletoe.

a light blush spread across his face, his eyes widening as they faced yours, which were already staring at him. he forced his expression to go back to being as neutral as he could manage, before cupping your face with one hand and bringing you in for a kiss.

needless to say, kaeya was a good matchmaker.

the holidays have always been a heartwarming time with ajax’s family, not to mention that ever since you joined him, he waits twice as excitedly to see them again.

he loves the domestication of you with his younger siblings, his parents, him; in a warm house with snowflakes floating down amongst the scenic landscape outside and everyone inside away from the troubles of the world. all his loved ones, together, in one place, safe.

taking your hands and spinning you around, he lets go of one to hold your hand as you both sprint to the house ahead. you love how his eyes shine as he knocks on the door, his younger siblings tackling him and squeezing you tightly to the ground with his parents reprimanding them and herding them back inside.

you’re grateful for the warmth of the house as you shed off your winter gear and help ajax get off his as his siblings spout off with questions for him that they couldn’t fit in the letters sent back and forth between them.

at one point, they bring their big brother in to whisper something in hushed voices. ajax chuckles as they scurry off, shaking his head and smiling brightly at you. he almost seems like a kid again, the way his smile reaches far and he looks like he can’t get any happier.

you see teucer poke his head out from behind a wall and beckon ajax over. he goes over, but not without a glance to you showing off the mischievous glint in his eyes.

you wait in anticipation with a smile as you hear everyone with him giggle and push him out with a newly acquired headpiece, a headband with a string attached to a mistletoe.

a few seconds go by with your laughter before ajax teasingly says, “so, are you going to come over here, or?”

you be sure to give a thumbs up to his siblings before tackling him in a hug and bringing him in close for a smooch or two.

“stay still,” you softly chided, “i’m not going to be able to get all this sand out if you don’t.”

“sorry.” cyno replied, glancing back at the ceiling. of all methods…

this was purely tighnari and collei’s doing. they’re the only ones who know cyno’s preferred place to sit as you “help get the bits of persistent sand in his hair” even though he knows that he can do it himself.

when had they placed that there?

cyno quietly sighed as you finished with the ends of his strands, carefully taking off your gloves and putting down your brush on the towels beneath you both.

“alright, then— good night, cyno.” you say as you get up, although hesitant. you wanted to spend more time with him, but with his narrow schedule, you don’t mind putting his rest before your own desires. you wait for him to stand and get off the towels, which he does, before cradling them in a way so that the sand on top of them won’t spill. you give a small “bye, sleep well,” before turning to leave.

you feel his coarse fingers delicately wrap around your upper arm, a gasp leaving your lips as he pulled you back with a force that you’d be able to escape from if you wanted to.

“cy—”

“look up.”

you do as told.

as soon as your eyes meet the red and green symbol, you feel the same fingers that pulled you to him hold your chin, bringing your focus to him.

he speaks through the meeting of your eyes, and you allow him with a response of your lips against his.

he separates after a bit before diving back in. after such a small taste of paradise, he can’t help but want more.

of course someone put a mistletoe above the doorway of the tavern. and of course he didn’t remove it incase you came by today. and of course kaeya teased him for it.

no matter how annoying, he’d go through it if it meant you’d come to him at the end of the day.

and that you did.

you rushed past the door in excitement to tell him about your hectic, but interesting, day as diluc ignored the knowing stare he got from the calvary captain.

with a small smile, you two stayed talking until midnight, when diluc finished cleaning and closed up the tavern.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, ‘luc.” you smile, as he does the same despite his diminishing hope at being able to kiss you under the protruding plant that you two were still standing under.

just as he came to the conclusion that he’d have to be the one who’d initiate the kiss, you leaned in close to place a kiss on the corner of his lips. “you’re obvious when you want something, you know that?”

he chuckled a bit after he recovered. “you just know me well.”

he put a hand on the side of your face and pulled you in again.

“your office is so… bland. for someone like you, i expected at least some interesting decorations especially during this season.”

“‘for someone like you’?” kaeya rose an eyebrow, eyeing the box you set on his desk. “and furthermore, i haven’t had the time to decorate for the season! i’m always busy with work or spending time with you.”

“or at the tavern,” you pointed out, taking items and sorting them out across the floor from the box. “hmm, red or blue?”

“both. and what if i was just waiting for you to come in and help me since we both did a pretty good job last year?” it wasn’t a total lie. he was waiting for you, but only to be able to spend more time together.

“straight line or dips? then i think that’d be a lie,” you countered, “after all, your office was as brightly adorned as the outside all those years back before i came in to help.”

“on the walls? straight would be easier. dips would look good on the desk, though.” kaeya said as he adjusted some of the ribbons he fluffed out. “i like your company.”

a smile creased your features as you stayed quiet at the thought for a few seconds before replying with a “i like yours, too.”

eventually, you both stepped back to revel the sight. you sipped the last bits of the now lukewarm drink kaeya brought for you earlier. you remembered the way your fingers brushed against each other and the small spark that you hoped he shared.

you felt him brush a piece of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

when did he get so close?

he tilted your head up to the ceiling, your heart beating fast and resounding in your ears.

and then he kissed you, soft and delicately.

amidst the glowing lights and cheery decor, nothing could’ve matched the high spirits you and kaeya were feeling right then and there.

kazuha's observant. he always has been. so he’ll always know when you’re not giving yourself as much love as you should be. case in point…

“i know that i am not the most perfected in this art…” says the guy who can make cussing sound flowery and sweet sounding, “but i made this small book for you. it’s full of haikus and other forms of poetry containing everything i find attractive about you.”

you take the quite hefty book full of papers and some apparent trinkets sticking out of some of the pages (like flowers that remind him of you and such) with care. its title is (y/n), my muse and eternity.

you can’t seem to find your words. “kazuha… this is…”

he smiles at how happy you look.

he knows that insecurities are far from that of the like of small insects and the such, in which you can just kill them with a little flick or small press of a youth’s finger.

insecurities are plagues, brought from hell itself to block out what objectivity sees.

he knows that his words won’t be enough to quell your troubles permanently, but he’ll damn well try just to see that smile and see you free from what’s trapping you in that moment.

he flips the pages to the end where papers face you devoid of ink. he gestures above, where a small plant glistens amidst the dull space where you two are seated. you swear that wasn’t there when you walked in.

you feel him slowly trace your arm, as if asking permission to pull you closer. you lace your fingers together, relishing in the warmth of his presence as you let yourself come closer.

his lips meet yours, soft as his appearance but as passionate as his dreams and ambitions.

and when you two come apart, he takes ink and a quill from a nearby table and fills in the blank page with new words, swiftly getting the mistletoe from above to tuck into the pages like a bookmark.

lips—

with the snow falling

in the slumber of the world

Heaven-sent are they

with warmth to my days

with feelings of home in you

paradise is found

“a private show right now?” you softly laugh.

“exactly! and you’re in for a treat today— i picked up a book per someone’s recommendation about the significance of different flowers and their meanings! and i will incorporate that in the trick i’m about to show you!” he spouted excitedly, bowing in front of you as he usually does before a performance.

“well then, let’s see what you’ve got for me today that’s different than all the other shows you’ve already shown me!” you say, sitting in the chair he prepared ahead of time.

he smiles. taking his hat off again, he swirls his fingers over the opening.

“oh, it seems there’s something stuck; give me a second…” and with a yank, out he pulls a bouquet of rainbow roses. he offers them to you with a warm grin.

you take it with wide eyes, holding it close to you as you relish in how your fingers brushed against his and the remembrance of the meaning of these flowers.

taking advantage of the proximity, lyney brushes back a piece of your hair, reaching behind your ear and pulling out a piece of mistletoe with small buds blossoming on the branches.

you feel your face become unbearably hot.

he leans in to whisper. “this part isn’t a trick, by the way… these flowers represent my feelings rather well, i think. do you accept them?”

you can feel your heart pounding as you nod, his lips reaching yours as soon as you do. it’s passionate, just as the flowers represent.

once you both pull back, he says, “how do you rate your performance?”

“i’ll rate it ten out of ten if you kiss me again.”

he does. 10/10!!

what a stupid touchy feeling tradition. absolutely stupid. absolutely not worth his time setting up just because of your stupid romantic fantasies.

well, i guess that makes him stupid, then.

if all goes wrong, he has at least five back-up plans ready. so there’s nothing to lose, right?

except maybe possibly hopefully the norm of friendship you two have changing into something more.

but, he knows that if his hopes are set too high, they can come crashing down more hurtful than falling from a fifty-story skyscraper.

so he settles for stomping out his icky hopes and dreams for this encounter in favor of not going insane. at most, you were probably going to just peck him on the cheek as a ‘friendly gesture’. or slap him altogether.

it was still a good ten minutes or so before your designated meeting time, so he closed his eyes and waited beneath one of the shady areas of the forest hangout you both discussed on, listening for the sound of your footsteps. to his mild surprise, he heard them coming just a few minutes later.

you emerged from the trees, your eyes widening a bit before smiling to seemingly cover it up. “scara’! sorry, did i make you wait for long?”

he shook his head, eyeing the basket you were holding before meeting your gaze. “you’re fine. i just arrived.” which was a lie, he came extra early to prepare.

“that’s good to hear. i met with the traveler a few days ago, and he taught me a few new recipes. i was wondering if you’d like to try them out?” you say, taking a small picnic blanket out. scaramouche offered to take it as he spread it out under the tree he was leaning against.

“sounds good, your cooking’s always something i look forward to.” he replied, throwing that compliment in for good measure.

you laugh softly, opening the basket and setting out the dishes. he can’t help but notice a certain small plant in there as well for a brief second before it’s gone, covered by a few napkins shifting around as you arrange the food and utensils.

ah. well…

he stops you momentarily, gently moving your hands off the basket as he brings it closer to himself, knelt down as he rummages through it and pulls out the small piece of mistletoe inside.

you’re quick to talk. “oh, that’s… that’s just a lucky charm i carry around. i… a friendsaidthat it’s supposed to bring good luck! and fortune! and i brought it to ensure that you wouldn’t uh—get food poisoning or something, y’know? or so that i won’—!”

you’re startled by scaramouche pulling you to your feet, a smirk on his face as his hands trail up to your face. his thumbs trace the sides of it as he says, “if you look up, i’m sure you’ll find something very confidence-boosting.”

you do.

he slowly leans in, like he’s seen other couples do. and he swears you’re something else and that something zapped his lips and spread through the rest of his body, because the moment your lips met it felt as if a small electrocution was taking place in each part of his being.

it’s almost so overwhelming that he also swears that he can feel his own heartbeat in there. what did you do?

a small paradise of his own, and he plans on never losing it.

(also something ate a portion your food— it wasn’t you or scaramouche— but hey, at least that means that he can spend time with you cooking that same dish again!)

sleeping out in the forest can be difficult, but for people like tighnari, you just get used to it.

however, that’s not the case this time around with the only sound that his ears seem to be registering being the sounds of you outside your tent, sitting on a stump, writing in your plant/personal(? he thinks?) journal, and very much awake after he told you to rest up for tomorrow.

he sighs, getting up. he’s not letting you do this.

you immediately turn your head to the sound of him exiting his tent, knowing you’re in for an earful about taking proper care of yourself. you know he cares, but at least wait until you’re finished writing these last few words…

“i told you at least an hour ago to head to sleep. you’ll need the energy for tomorrow.” he walks closer, ending in front of you with a hand on his hip, which he drops as soon as you look up at him.

“i know, but…”

“you can fill in whatever you want to fill in tomorrow. come on.” he gently ushers you to your feet, taking your hand and confiscating your notebook.

“tighn—!”

“i’ll give it back tomorrow. i don’t trust you not to write in it in your tent.” he leaves no room for complaint, evading all your attempts in retrieving the book until you eventually give up with a more than devastated look.

you reluctantly lie down, tighnari watching you till you put your covers over yourself.

“good night, (y/n),” he gives a small smile, “tell me if anything nearby irritates your senses. i won’t mind being waken up for that.”

and with that, he leaves.

he spares a glance at the notebook in his hand, still open to the page you were writing on. he had no intentions of reading it, but when your name’s written down in someone’s time, you’re bound to be curious why.

𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘦

𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

— 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥…

you’ve certainly done your research. after swiftly skimming through that portion…

𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴

— 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵: 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘺. 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵

that’s where it ends. in the book, a small mistletoe plant is nestled in between the pages. tighnari can feel his face heat and his tail jerking around excitedly behind him, prompting him to take a deep breath to calm down. it’s no use, really.

you like him?

he can’t help the smile that flutters up, taking the plant out and dropping off your notebook in his tent.

he goes over to yours, knocking his foot against the rocks outside as a sort of doorbell. he knows you’re awake.

meanwhile, you’re panicking and on the verge of running out and taking your chances in the dangers of the forest in the dark. you hear his knocking.

“you read it.” you manage from behind the curtain like doors. “i’m sor—”

“may i come in?”

he hears you inhale deeply. hesitant footsteps make their way over, opening the entrance to him.

immediately, he takes your hand. lifting his other arm, the mistletoe he has a hold of dangles above you both.

“i would,” is all he says before his lips press against yours.

both of your worlds spin, and every other noise in the avidya forest blurs away.

when you separate, he’s the first to speak with rosy cheeks decorating his features.

“mistletoe is also categorized as a parasitic plant, meaning it depends on other plants to survive by drawing nutrients from them. be sure to add that to your journal.”

“tighnari.”

he kisses you again in apology.

“your knuckles are all bruised again…” you mutter, taking his hands into your own. you brush your thumbs over the especially calloused areas.

“it’s really no big deal…” he murmurs, thinking you to be sweet for caring so heavily about him.

you get your bandages out. “are there any other places that are injured that i should know about?”

he shakes his head no, but then answers verbally realizing that with your eyes focusing on his hands, you probably didn’t see.

a couple minutes later and you’re done, a lot sooner than wriothesley would’ve wanted.

“flex your fingers.” he does so. you take the hand you just bandaged to fix one loose end. “i think that’s it…”

he subconsciously holds your hand in his. as per tradition— a sort of inside joke between you two— you bring his fingers to your lips and kiss his bandaged knuckles with a smile.

when you do the same to the other hand, he chuckles. you look at his head tilted upwards, looking up at the ceiling. you trail up as well, your eyes widening for a moment.

“it looks like sigewinne must’ve slipped in and done some decorating for me. we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

you recall her words from a few days ago to you. “well, if you don’t make a move soon, don’t be surprised when i intervene.”

you meet his eyes. he looks… bashful? embarrassed?

you gather up your confidence before it evaporates and move up to kiss him.

He stiffens before melting into the kiss, bringing you closer with the hand not holding yours on the small of your back and the other intertwining your fingers.

he chased your lips after you separated, and well; you both didn’t leave his office for a bit.

you definitely made sure to hug and give sigewinne a new sticker sheet afterwards.

you thought up the idea a while back, but never acted on it. xiao was… well, xiao. you simply didn’t think he’d like it, especially if he didn’t like you in that way. that’d just be awkward.

so you never did it, until one day after you consulted zhongli.

“it seems he does feel the same way, after all the talks we’ve shared of the topic being you, to whom he speaks very highly of.”

you smile at the thought now as you sit beside xiao, explaining the topic of mistletoe, which apparently he overheard from some people walking past that he wanted to learn about. what he heard you don’t know, so you prompt to start from the very beginning from its origins all the way to its tradition.

he stays quiet with a few questions throughout your speech, seemingly deep in thought.

you think that’s a good sign.

when you’re done, you look at him only to find him already staring at you.

“would you want to do that with me?”

your eyes widen at the sudden sentence before you throw out a response. “yes, i would.”

“i’ll be right back.” and before you can say anything, he vanishes. he comes back a few minutes later with something in his hand. a small mistletoe.

you stand up to his level, eyeing the blush beginning to spread across his face.

you smile serenely, taking his hand holding the plant and raising it above your heads. you then take the lead and lean in to kiss him.

in all of his years of being alive, xiao thinks he’s never felt so… actually alive. it’s always like that around you. you take him away from the automatic responses he gives and seemingly endless monotony that is slaying monsters and the sort. you give him some sort of essence he can’t describe that he’s been lacking all these years, decades, centuries, millenniums.

he loves you so dearly.

and when you separate, he finds himself seeking more, pulling you closer and kissing you again.

it’s his sort of reward for suffering for so long without this, he supposes.

“it’s rather late,” zhongli glanced over at the night sky, “shall we get going?”

you nod. “thanks for accompanying me today; though, i still feel guilty for taking up your time…”

he gives you a reassuring smile. “it is of no concern. i was not particularly busy, and any time spent with you is never wasted.”

you smile back. “you flatter me too much.”

“it is not as if you do not deserve it.” he responds. you can’t help but widen your smile. he continues speaking. “you’re staying over at the baiju guesthouse for now until your renovations are completed, correct?”

“i am! it’s been pleasant so far, and the decorations adorning the building for the season are definitely a sight to wake up to!”

a good amount of talking later, and finally at around midnight, you both arrive.

“i’m afraid i now must apologize for taking up your time, you ought to rest for tomorrow. shall we meet up soon?” his expression is soothing, but if you look a little deeper, a small glint in his eyes shows a bit of hopefulness and something else.

“of course, and…” you trail off, glancing up at the archway you two are standing under in front of the guesthouse. “happy holidays, zhongli.”

you quickly kiss him on the cheek before hurrying away, leaving a stunned zhongli in your wake, hand to the place where you kissed him, seemingly in awe.

he says your name delicately, like a sacred word meant to be worshipped. you stop your hand on the door, turning your head over to see him reach for your hands and spinning you around.

a small intake of air leaves you as he walks you both back under the mistletoe above that you spotted earlier. he then leans in close.

“may i?”

and you close the distance.

happy holidays indeed.

©️kazusys — 24/12/24; do not plagiarize/steal, repost, translate, and/or claim any of my works as your own.

[woso-story]

Topless

Alexia Putellas x Reader x BarcaTeammates

You woke to the golden light of the Barcelona sun streaming through the bedroom window, spilling onto the sheets and painting lazy streaks across Alexia’s bare shoulder. She was still sleeping, her breathing soft and even, one arm slung around your waist. You took a second to just look at her, admiring the way the morning softened every sharp edge, how even the most intense captain in the world could look so at peace.

Today was rare—a full day off. No training. No meetings. No press. Just freedom. And better yet, beach plans with your favorite people.

You gently nudged her shoulder. “Lex…”

She groaned lightly, hiding her face in your collarbone. “Five more minutes.”

You laughed. “We’re gonna be late. And if we’re late, Mapi will steal our spot.”

“She can have it,” Alexia muttered, but she was already sitting up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

---

The drive down the coast was easy. The playlist was on point—mostly Spanish pop, with a few of your favorite songs Alexia had added for you. The city slowly fell away behind you, replaced by cliffs and sparkling water to your right. Alexia drove barefoot, sunglasses on, her hand resting on your thigh like it belonged there.

When you finally pulled into the dusty parking lot by the hidden cove, you already recognized the other cars. Patri’s SUV, Mapi’s Jeep - everyone was already here. You stepped out and immediately felt the warmth of the sand beneath your sandals, the scent of salt and sunscreen carried on the wind.

You grabbed your bag, threw on your sunglasses, and followed the trail down to the beach.

The moment you stepped onto the sand, it felt like a different world. Pina and Jana were already tossing a frisbee, Ingrid and Kika were setting up towels, and Mapi was halfway through building some kind of elaborate sandcastle. Patri was just cracking open a cooler filled with cold drinks, and Esmee waved at you from beneath the shade of an umbrella.

Alexia squeezed your hand as you joined them, and for a moment, everything just felt right. Easy. Sunlight shimmered off the water, and laughter echoed across the cove.

After a quick snack and a lot of sunscreen, someone shouted the obvious: “Water?”

You all charged toward the waves like kids on summer break, splashing and diving into the Mediterranean. The water was crystal clear and just cool enough to be refreshing. Salma dunked Jana almost immediately. Alexia swam up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist, spinning you gently in the water before pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

You felt so light. So free. For a while, there were no matches, no tactics, no cameras. Just you, the sun, the sea, and your friends.

Eventually, tired and wrinkled from the saltwater, you all stumbled back to the towels, laughing and dripping wet. That’s when something… unexpected happened.

Without much fanfare, Mapi unhooked her bikini top and tossed it onto her towel, laying back with a satisfied sigh. A second later, Patri did the same. Then Pina. Salma. Jana.

You blinked. Okay. That was… new.

You weren’t a stranger to nudity—being a footballer, you’d spent enough time in locker rooms to see it all. But this wasn’t like the locker room. This was casual. Public. Almost intimate.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw her—Alexia. Sitting up on the towel next to you, untying her bikini top like it was the most normal thing in the world. And for her, it was. For all of them, it seemed.

You weren’t sure what to do with your eyes. You stared back at the water, blinking, a little flushed.

A soft chuckle came from beside you.

“I can feel you overthinking,” Ingrid said, settling back on her towel to your left. She still had her top on.

You looked at her, sheepish. “Is it that obvious?”

She smiled. “You’re not the first. First time I was here, I thought I’d wandered into some nudist retreat.”

You laughed, grateful for her presence. “It’s just… I’m not used to it. At home, we don’t really—do this.”

“I know,” she said warmly. “You’ll get used to it. No one expects you to. It’s just a Spain thing. They sunbathe topless like it’s no big deal.”

You nodded, a bit more reassured. Ingrid laid back, still wearing her top, and you exhaled. At least you weren’t alone.

Still, you couldn’t quite relax. Your thoughts were doing somersaults. Why was this such a big deal? You’d seen all of them in every state of undress before. So why now, lying next to your topless teammates on a beach, was your brain acting like this was the most scandalous thing ever?

You felt a hand touch your shoulder.

Alexia.

She scooted closer, resting her chin on your shoulder. “Everything okay, carino?”

You gave a small nod. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“You never think this much at training.”

You rolled your eyes. “Because at training, I’m not surrounded by topless teammates.”

She laughed then, a full laugh that shook her shoulders. “Oh no,” she said between breaths. “You’re having a crisis about boobs, aren’t you?”

You slapped her arm gently. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not. Okay—maybe a little. But it’s cute. You’ve probably never had this many thoughts about Patri’s boobs before.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hand.

“Hey,” she said, her voice softer now. “You don’t have to do anything. No one’s expecting you to. You’re not Spanish. This isn’t normal for you, and that’s okay. Look—Ingrid’s still wearing hers. So is Esmee. And you can keep yours on too. There’s no rule here.”

You looked at her, grateful.

“Really. Just… relax. You’re allowed to feel out of place. But don’t let it ruin your day, okay?”

You nodded slowly. She kissed your shoulder blade, just over the strap of your bikini, and then lay back down beside you.

For the first time since returning from the water, you let yourself breathe deeply. The sea breeze was soft against your skin. The sound of laughter, waves, and Spanish chatter floated around you like a lullaby. And slowly, your thoughts quieted.

Maybe you didn’t quite understand all the customs here yet. Maybe there would be more moments like this—awkward, confusing, new. But you were learning. You were growing. You were finding your place in this beautiful, sun-drenched world.

And as you turned your head slightly to glance at Alexia, sun-kissed and smiling, you realized: as long as she was by your side, you’d get used to it all eventually.

One sunburn and bikini dilemma at a time.

[mercurial-chuckles]

Pluvial Kisses!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 664

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Bucky being the absolute fuckin dream of a man! *heavy sigh*

A/N: I took a walk around my home today. It was my kind of weather, and I got inspired!

Note: Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work! I wanted to post a photo, but the sound of the rain was so soothing that I decided to post the video I took instead.

Video credits to me! GIF credits to the creators! Thank you! Unedited—written it on my phone. :D

Thanks @buck-star for the divider!

Check out my other works: Masterlist

Indulge Away!

Full from a delicious meal, you and Bucky decided to wander around your home together.

As you walked, the drizzle began as a mist, just light enough to be romantic without soaking through your clothes. Up here in the hills, surrounded by trees showing off their best shades of amber and crimson, it was almost impossible not to get lost in the beauty of the place, even with the gentle fog settling around you both.

Bucky grumbled, casting a longing glance back at the house, clearly itching to drag you into its warmth.

"You'll fall sick," he muttered, though the crisp air and the gentle drizzle felt too perfect to leave behind. When you resorted to your best puppy-dog eyes, his resolve crumbled.

He narrowed his eyes, giving in with a sigh, "Got me fucking wrapped around your finger," he groaned, pulling you snugly against his side as you walked, each step perfectly in sync in the cozy silence.

The path wound up toward the hill's edge, leading to a small pond nestled in a hollow, its surface dancing with delicate ripples as the rain tapped lightly against it.

You both stopped, breathing in the earthy, damp air. The pond shimmered under the mist, casting an almost magical glow around the place. His warmth seeped through his light jacket, and a little sigh escaped you in contentment.

A stray lock of hair fell onto your forehead and tickled, so you tried to push it behind your ear, and in the process, your beanie fell into a puddle beside you.

"Oh, shit," you giggled. Bucky leaned down and picked it up but it was too drenched.

"Tragic. My absolute klutz," he teased, his low voice teasing.

"Oops," you grinned, holding out your hand to take the beanie from him, but he rolled his eyes, moving it just out of your reach. Instead, he pulled you closer, one arm enveloping you and your sweater-clad form.

You looked up into his eyes, and he chuckled, crouching down to your level. He rubbed his sharp, cold nose against yours before moving up to place a wet kiss on your forehead, tickling your skin in the process.

You sighed happily as Bucky moved your chin up, his thumb rough against your skin as he caressed your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine. His blue eyes locked onto yours, a smirk tugging at his pink lips, and you instinctively licked yours in anticipation. His gaze shifted to your lips, his fingers moving to caress your cheek, and you leaned into his touch.

Bucky tilted his head slightly, placing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose before capturing your lips. The kiss was anything but gentle. At the first taste of your lips, he tugged at your lower lip and deepened the kiss, groaning at the sensation. You leaned into him fully, your hands gripping the back of his neck, your fingers threading through his beanie-covered hair.

'Wait? Where's his beanie?'

When you pulled back with a hint of worry, half-expecting to have dropped it, you saw his short, thick hair in disarray--no beanie in sight.

He chuckled at the confused, dazed expression on your face, the sound vibrating through his chest as he looked down at you, his eyes twinkling.

His fingers patted your head, and you instinctively touched your hair, realizing he'd slipped his beanie onto you instead.

Smooth move, Sergeant.

"Bucky..." you started, but he simply leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cold cheek, his nose brushing your skin with warmth.

"Not a word, or I'll keep shutting you up," he warned, his voice low as he murmured against the corner of your mouth, his lips brushing your skin with a teasing tickle.

"Such a controlling little shit," you replied playfully. He snickered, a low, fond sound, as he brought his other arm around you, completely engulfing you.

"I know," he shrugged, "And you absolutely love me," he chuckled, his forehead now against yours, eyes soft and loving as he pulled you close, his warm breath mingling with yours.

"I love you," you whispered, and he grinned, kissing you again, slow and gentle.

You could smell the wintry pine clinging to him, a scent as cozy and familiar as the woods surrounding you. The warmth of his kiss made the rain feel like it sizzled against your skin, his scent and closeness grounding you, making everything feel perfectly right.

"I love you," he whispered back, hugging you tighter as he sighed contentedly.

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[thinkinonsense]

ON YOUR COLLAR

old man!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: smut, logan has a bit of a pain kink, slightly jealous/possesive reader

masterlist

every time –without fail– you manage to leave a lipstick print on the collar of logan's white button down as he heads out the door for work. painted in all shades of pinks, reds, and brown; logan couldn't escape your lips even if he tried.

"can't have any of those customers thinking that a handsome man like you is single." you tell him, before pressing the white material to your lips.

logan never would've picture you being the more possessive one in the relationship but he sure enjoyed it. he can't stare at the lipstick stain for too long while working or else he will get unbearably hard and have to relieve himself in the back of the limo once everyone's gone.

"they don't want an old man like me." logan jokes as you place an extra kiss mark on his pulse point.

"good." you whisper into his ear, pushing him down on the bed. "because you're my old man. not theirs."

logan had to go soon but he couldn't resist your touch. fingers popping open buttons and snaking their way down his toned stomach. your eyes were darker than usual; clouded with lust. logan wasn't one to be take orders in bed but there was something about your dominating attitude that made his pants tighter.

"you're mine. isn't that right, baby?" you smile up at him.

"y-you already know that answer." logan huffs, not wanting to cave.

"c'mon, lo..." the sound of your giggles also cause a moan to slip from his lips. "entertain me."

your hand slips under his black trousers. logan sucks in sharp breath, letting his head fall back against the silk sheets. you free him from the tight restraints of his pants, slowly stroking him. in a rush of need, he chases after your lips.

"i'm waiting..."

logan always gave into your antics. sometimes it took him longer to come around but he would never leave you hanging.

your lips press kisses to his throat and down his chest. the lower your head went, the closer logan was to telling you exactly what you wanted to hear.

"i-i'm yours, honey." he stutters, hips thrusting softly for your touch.

you smile up at him, placing a kiss on the head before sitting up to straddle him and lifting up your dress. carefully, sliding him through your slit a couple time and letting the tip bump your clit.

"c'mon, sweets." logan whines, thrusting his hips up until he's able to slip inside. "gotta leave soon."

"s-shit, can feel you everywhere, lo." you purr, grabbing his left hand and placing it on your lower tummy. "especially, right here."

logan could cum from just feeling the bulge of himself inside of you. the urge became even harder when you started swirling your hips, bouncing lightly at first. not nearly going fast enough for his liking. too busy leaving a trail of red kisses behind; marking your territory.

answering his prayers, you finally pick up the pace.

"fuck," he curses under his breath as your teeth sink into his shoulder. you can feel him twitch inside of you at the pain.

"when were you gonna tell me that you gotta thing for pain, baby?" you ask, pulling back to tease him.

not even hesitating, logan wraps a fist in your hair, pulling it just the way you liked. you gasp at the action and he can feel you clench down on him, sucking him in deliciously. your nails dig into his bicep, leaving behind small crescent-moon shapes.

"hush," logan hisses, gaining back control.

the closer you teetered towards the edge, the more willingly you complied with him. you didn't have much of a choice as he repeatedly hit the sweet spot inside of you.

"c-close." you whimper.

logan nods, bringing his thumb up to your lips for you to suck on before lowering it to rub your button. it didn't take long for your orgasm to wash over your body, trigger logan's release as well.

within seconds, you collapse onto his chest, panting and sore. logan holds you closer as he checks the time.

"i gotta go, sweetheart." he says, carefully slipping out of you and rolling you over.

"wish you could stay." you pout as he covers you.

"i do too, but ill be back tonight."

you watch him get redressed, happy with your lips on his collar still. always with him.

"get some rest, you'll need it later." he smirks, walking out the door and listening to your heartbeat increase with excitement.