#when I CATCH you Duolingo

[concerningduolingo]

Went to do my lessons yesterday and was APPALLED to realize I had ads. I then realized I also had limited hearts again, which is even worse than the ads. It looks like they removed those features from my classroom. So, if you joined the classroom I shared here and you’ve lost those features, so sorry 😪

[siberianchan]

Can we please get Duolingo to cooperate with KyoAni to buy the rights for the movie (or heck the whole franchise), make the movie and get it international dubbing?

Pretty please?

[evilrobertsmith]

i hate that fucking green bird

[solstheimtxt]

So...duolingo scared the hell out of me 😭

[tastenorris]

⟢ duolingo streak · lando norris #4

lando has been learning spanish. no, it’s not for you (it's 100% for you)

pairing: lando norris x colapinto!reader faceclaim: cande gallo and pinterest girlies warning: use of y/n, spanish language, fluff, lando being a simp, inaccurate timelines (kinda but nothing major) also this is just for fun and obviously fiction, i'm not trying to reflect any person in real life ‹3

a/n: happy one week anniversary since lando won silverstone 🤍 this is the first time i'm posting something on tumblr !! any feedback, likes, or reblogs mean a lot ‹3

francolapinto

liked by yncolapinto, lando, alex_albon and 683.543 others

francolapinto feliz cumple a la mejor hermana del mundo, te quiero hasta cuando me ganas en los karts o me robás la ropa😄😄 gracias por ser mi fan nro uno

→ see translation: happy birthday to the best sister in the whole world, i love you even when you beat me in karting or steal my clothes 😄😄 thanks for being my number one fan

view all comments

yncolapinto basta me vas a hacer llorar en público que vergüenza [stop u are gonna make me cry in public and it's embarrassing]

yncolapinto igual te amo un poquito [kinda love u anyway]

username3 FRANCO POSTING HER MEANS WE GET LANDO IN THE LIKES HELLOOO

⤷ username4 it’s literally tradition atp ⤷ username5 why is he always first 😭😭 stalking behavior ⤷ username6 i think someone's has a crush

username7 i wanna be her so bad it’s getting unhealthy

alex_albon the first pic unlocked a memory i’ve been trying to suppress (she beat me)

⤷ yncolapinto and i'll do it again albono🫡 ⤷ francolapinto she’s actually terrifying behind the wheel

──── ୨ৎ ────

yncolapinto

liked by lando, francolapinto and 64.785 others

yourusername festejando mi cumpleaños en mónaco 🤍 al final los yates existen de verdad y no solo en pinterest

→ see translation: spent my bday in monaco 🤍 turns out yachts are actually real and not just a pinterest thing

view all comments

francolapinto obvio que existen boluda en qué mundo vivís [ofc they exist, where have you been living???]

⤷ yncolapinto te voy a bloquear [i'm gonna block u] ⤷ francolapinto hacelo, no te tengo miedo [do it, i'm not afraid]

username1 yn the woman that you are 😍

lando feliz cumpleaños 🍾 los yates es muy divertido [happy birthday 🍾 yachts is very fun]

⤷ lando son muy divertidos* [yachts are very fun*] ⤷ yncolapinto gracias landooo🫶 estás aprendiendo español? [thank u landooo🫶 are you learning spanish?] ⤷ lando trying my best, still looking for a good teacher ⤷ yncolapinto lucky for you i’m fluent ⤷ francolapinto what. is. happening. here.

username2 HELP LANDO SPEAKING IN SPANISH???

⤷ username3 "los yates es muy divertido" baby no but A for effort ⤷ username4 he tried and that’s what counts (but also pls never again)

username5 bestie you're the pinterest board irl

──── ୨ৎ ────

lando updated their close friends story.

❤︎ liked by yncolapinto, carlossainz55 and maxfewtrell

──── ୨ৎ ────

f1gossipwags

liked by username1, username2 and 25.754 others

f1gossipwags Lando Norris spotted having dinner in Monaco last night with Y/N Colapinto, younger sister of Alpine F1 driver Franco Colapinto 👀 The two were seen laughing together over dinner and leaving together, with Lando holding what appears to be her purse and a phone with a Rhode phonecase.

Ahead of the GP weekend, could this be a casual catch-up… or something more?

view all comments

username1 OMG THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING EVERYONE STAY CALM

⤷ username2 i am NOT calm. i am refreshing their profiles every five seconds

username3 after months of him liking every single post where she appears this is a big step

username4 manifesting a podium with her in the paddock

username5 he’s carrying her stuff like they’ve been married 3 years 😭😭 what a simp

──── ୨ৎ ────

yncolapinto updated their story.

──── ୨ৎ ────

lando

liked by yncolapinto, francolapinto, mclaren and 1.446.278 others

lando monaco win. for you mum and dad ❤️

view all comments

francolapinto well done landinioooo top weekend 👌🏼

username1 monaco babyyyyyyy

yncolapinto VAMOS LANDOOOOO🥹 [LET'S GO LANDOOOO🥹]

⤷ lando gracias hermosa [thanks beautiful] ⤷ francolapinto did you just call my sister beautiful ⤷ yncolapinto déjalo está practicando [leave him alone he's just practicing] ⤷ francolapinto practicando para que? [practicing for what?] ⤷ username2 the silence is loud even in comments ⤷ username3 🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗 ⤷ username4 “gracias hermosa” giggling kicking my feet twirling my hair

username5 i still can’t believe he won monaco like that

username6 LANDGOAT 🏆

lnfour no u don't understand what this means to me

⤷ username7 i'm not crying u are

username8 POLE POSITION FASTEST LAP AND GRAND PRIX WINNER

──── ୨ৎ ────

yncolapinto and lando updated their story.

──── ୨ৎ ────

alpinef1team �� Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya

liked by yncolapinto, pierregasly and 423.754 others

alpinef1team We have an intruder mclaren please come collect your driver before he becomes our new social media manager.

view all comments

username1 WHERE’S FRANCO RN

⤷ username2 plotting how to murder lando and yn quietly ⤷ username3 talking to their mom abt his future british brother-in-law ⤷ username4 updating his “reasons lando is banned from our family dinners” google doc ⤷ username5 inventing a new language and forcing yn to only speak that from now on ⤷ username6 the way all of them could be true

username7 lando you’re not slick we all see why you’re there 😭

username8 imagine being so whipped u start hanging out with another team mid-season

yncolapinto mclpine is a thing now

⤷ lando i just work here (no i don’t)

mclaren We’re reviewing his contract

username9 zak brown disliked this

──── ୨ৎ ────

yncolapinto

liked by lando, maxfewtrell and 70.542 others

yncolapinto besitos from barcelona xx

view all comments

lando 😍😍😍 ❤︎ liked by author

username1 i'm obsessed with you pls give me one chance

username2 lando can you fight

francolapinto quién es el de la tercera foto [who's that in the third slide]

⤷ yncolapinto métete en lo tuyo [mind your business]

username3 girl be serious we know who that shadow is

username4 YOU'RE SO GORGEOUS IT'S UNFAIR

──── ୨ৎ ────

lando updated their close friends story.

──── ୨ৎ ────

──── ୨ৎ ────

ln4content

liked by username1, username2 and 86.436 others

ln4content In the F1 premiere, Lando talked in Spanish for a bit!

I: Lando! Hola, how are you? We heard you’ve been working on your Spanish lately… is that true?

L: Kind of. I wouldn’t say “fluent” but I’ve been practicing.

I: That’s impressive. What made you want to learn?

L: I think... just spending more time with people who speak Spanish.

I: Would you say you're more “Duolingo streak” level or like… holding full conversations?

L: I started with Duolingo and I was very proud of my streak but now I have a real teacher. She's very patient.

I: Can you say something for us? Maybe a little message for your fans watching in Latin America or Spain?

L: Okay but please don’t judge me… I’m still learning.

L: Estoy aprendiendo español y es un idioma muy lindo. Todavía me cuesta un poco pero practico todos los días.

→ see translation: i’m learning spanish and it’s a very beautiful language. i still struggle a bit but i practice every day.

I: Wow, that was really good! You're a natural

L: Hopefully next time we get to do the whole interview in Spanish!

view all comments

username1 CAN YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING

username2 we lost him girls

username3 from 'soy lago' to this... we've come so far

username4 he's so cute 🥹

──── ୨ৎ ────

──── ୨ৎ ────

francolapinto, lando and yncolapinto updated their story.

──── ୨ৎ ────

lando.jpg · Argentina

liked by yncolapinto, francolapinto and 652.852 others

lando.jpg muy linda vista 🇦🇷

→ see translation: very nice view 🇦🇷

view all comments

username1 babe wake up lando.jpg is alive

yncolapinto u always get my good side

⤷ lando.jpg you don’t have a bad one

username2 he flew to her continent and then called her a “pretty view” in spanish i fear i’m melting

maxfewtrell Did you get lost orrr

⤷ lando.jpg dw i had the best guide ⤷ francolapinto i was there and he did in fact get lost multiple times ⤷ yncolapinto the bakery was two blocks away how is that even possible ⤷ lando.jpg ... i got distracted

username3 lando.jpg has risen from the dead

username4 he remembered the password just to post his gf i'm not okay

──── ୨ৎ ────

yncolapinto · Argentina

liked by lando, francolapinto and 83.243 others

yncolapinto they say home is where the heart is but god i love the english

view all comments

yourbff te acordás cuando dijiste que ni en pedo estarías con un piloto? [remember when u said “i’d never date a driver”]

⤷ yncolapinto 🫣🫣🫣

username1 LANDO WINNING AT LIFE FRRRRR

francolapinto los quiero un montón [love u both so much]

⤷ yncolapinto esto es lo más tierno que me dijiste en tu vida [that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me] ⤷ francolapinto espero que lo hayas disfrutado porque no va a pasar de nuevo [hope you enjoyed it because it’s not happening again]

mclaren Is it too early to ask for you in team merch in Austria? Asking for a friend

⤷ alpinef1team Nice try but she's ours

username2 i’d read a book about their love story

username3 we’ve been waiting this post since “los yates es muy divertido”

lando te amo hermosa [love u gorgeous]

⤷ yncolapinto te amo más🥹 [love u more🥹]

username4 i want what they have

──── ୨ৎ ────

francolapinto · Red Bull Ring

liked by yncolapinto, lando and 604.762 others

francolapinto bienvenido a la familia landinio (no la cagues)

→ see translation: welcome to the family landinio (don't mess it up)

view all comments

yncolapinto estoy eligiendo ignorar el hecho de que acabas de amenazar a mi novio públicamente [i'm choosing to ignore the fact that you just threatened my boyfriend in public]

⤷ francolapinto no fue una amenaza, es una advertencia con amor [it wasn’t a threat, it's a warning (affectionate)] ⤷ lando 😐😐😐

username1 men will post “don’t mess it up” instead of just saying “i like you for my sister”

username2 i'd pay to be in their family gc

username3 lando passed the franco test omg he’s in

──── ୨ৎ ────

yncolapinto and lando updated their story.

→ see translation: my winner !!! ♥︎

→ see translation: better than any trophy

[changbinniescurlyhair]

Talk Dirty to Me (In Korean) (Bang Chan)

Synopsis. You’ve been secretly learning Korean for months, and tonight, you decide to surprise Chan at a party. Casual conversations with Hyunjin and I.N in fluent Korean leave them stunned, but when Chan catches on, he’s not amused. Instead, he’s possessive and determined to remind you who you really belong to — and he’s going to do it in the language you’ve just mastered. Pairing: Bang Chan x f!reader Warnings: Sexual content (Minors DNI), jealous sex, p in v (unprotected, don't do it), Chan switches from English to Korean and it's hot. A/N: Requested by @true-queen-of-mischief. Thank you so much for the request and being respectful/polite. I wish every anon/user was like you! Taglist is open. Requests Masterlist

The music thumps around you, bass deep in your chest, lights low and shifting. Drinks are flowing, everyone’s loose and laughing — one of those rare nights where all of Stray Kids can just chill together. You’re tucked comfortably on the couch, a little warm from your second cocktail, cheeks flushed, heart buzzing with anticipation.

You’ve been planning this moment for weeks.

“...잠깐만요, 정말 그렇게 말했나요? (Wait, did he really say that?)” The words slide off your tongue effortlessly, and you watch Hyunjin’s eyes go wide like you just flipped his world upside down.

I.N nearly spits out his drink. “Wait—wait, what?! Since when do you speak Korean?”

You just giggle, swirling the ice in your glass like this is no big deal. “그게 중요한가요?” (Does it really matter?) you tease, voice lilting.

They lose it — both of them tossing out shocked praise and excited compliments in rapid-fire Korean, and you soak it all up with a proud little smile. Every late-night study session, every secret Duolingo lesson behind Chan’s back, every embarrassing moment practicing tongue twisters in the mirror… it was so worth it.

But across the room, something shifts.

You catch Chan in your peripheral vision — standing frozen mid-conversation, eyes locked on you.

There’s a moment. Like a record scratch. His expression flickers from confusion to disbelief to something darker, unreadable.

He walks toward you, slow and deliberate, his expression somewhere between a smirk and a scowl.

“Babe,” he says when he finally reaches you. His voice is calm, but tight — too calm. “Can we talk?”

You feel Hyunjin and I.N exchange a knowing glance behind you as you slide off the couch and follow Chan into the hallway, just far enough from the party for privacy.

He turns to face you, arms crossed, his body blocking your exit like he planned it.

“Since when do you speak Korean?” he asks, low and clipped.

You blink up at him with faux innocence. “Since… now?”

“Y/N—no.” His tone drops, low and dangerous, and your stomach does a slow, delicious flip. “You’re not getting out of this. How long have you been hiding it?”

You try to bite back your grin. “A few months. Maybe. I wanted to surprise you.”

“A few months?”

His voice lowers even more, that gravelly edge creeping in. You see it in the way his jaw ticks, how his eyes darken — not angry. Oh no, it’s so much worse than angry.

It’s personal now.

He leans in, and you instinctively back up, spine meeting the wall behind you. You can feel the heat of him, smell his cologne, feel that static electricity in the air between you.

“So let me get this straight,” he murmurs. “You’ve been secretly learning Korean, didn’t tell me, and now you’re using it to flirt with my members?”

You blink. “Flirt? I was just talking…”

“Oh, no, sweetheart.” His voice is syrupy now — sweet, slow, dangerous. “You don’t get to play innocent. You wanna be cute? Speak my language? Keep secrets and make me watch you bat your lashes at Hyunjin and Jeongin?”

He steps in closer, and your breath catches when his mouth brushes just beside your ear.

“Guess I’ll have to remind you who you really belong to,” he whispers — in Korean this time.

You shiver. Not from fear. Oh no. This is something else entirely.

You’re so down bad for this man and he knows it.

He pulls back just enough to see the heat rise in your cheeks, the way your lips part. His hand comes up to tilt your chin, his thumb brushing along your jaw.

“You understood that, didn’t you, jagiya?” he says, gaze burning into yours.

You roll your eyes just to be difficult, but your voice betrays you — breathless, soft. “...안타깝게도 (Unfortunately).”

His grin is slow, wicked.

“Oh, good,” he hums, brushing a kiss just beneath your jaw. “Because I’ve got plenty more Korean to teach you.”

~~~~

The door to Chan's room clicks shut behind you, and everything shifts. The air feels heavier, charged — like something's about to snap.

Chan doesn't say a word. He just stands there, gaze fixed on you. His eyes are dark, intense — glittering with something unreadable, something dangerous. The silence stretches. You can almost hear his heartbeat through the stillness.

And then, without warning, he's on you.

You barely register the movement before your back hits the wall with a soft thud, and his mouth crashes into yours. It's not sweet. It's hungry. Desperate. All teeth and tongue, tasting, claiming. His hands grip your waist tightly, fingers digging into your sides like he's afraid you'll slip through his grasp if he lets go. The groan he lets out — low and deep from his chest — vibrates straight through you, and your knees nearly give out.

"당신은 나를 미치게 합니다 (You drive me crazy),"he growls against your lips, his breath hot as it ghosts down the curve of your neck. His mouth follows — open, insistent — trailing slow, maddening kisses along your skin. "Walking around speaking Korean like that... acting like you don't know exactly what you're doing to me."

Your breath catches as his lips graze your collarbone, and you tangle your fingers in the fabric of his shirt, tugging. "Maybe that was the idea."

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide with something primal, something possessive. His gaze roams your face like he's memorizing it — etching the heat, the flush, the need in your expression deep into his memory.

"Oh, you planned this?"

You open your mouth to respond, but you don't get the chance.

Chan lifts you effortlessly, one hand slipping beneath your thighs, the other braced at your back. He carries you like you weigh nothing — like you're already his, and always have been. Your fingers tangle in his hair, and your lips find the curve of his jaw, tasting the tension there.

When he lays you down on the bed, it's with purpose. His touch is reverent, but firm — like he's placing you exactly where you belong.

And then he slows down. Purposefully. Torturously.

His hands explore first — gliding beneath the hem of your shirt, skimming over every inch of exposed skin like it's sacred. Fingertips drag across your ribs, your hips, your thighs. Every touch lights another fuse in your veins. His mouth follows, brushing trails of heat along your body: collarbone, sternum, stomach, lower. Each kiss is slower than the last. Measured. Intentional. Worship.

"그 느낌이 느껴지십니까?" he murmurs against the shell of your ear, voice deep, laced with a heat that makes your stomach clench. "Can you feel that?"

You nod, breathless, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He smirks, his teeth grazing the skin just below your ear. "You're burning up for me."

And he's right.

You are.

Every part of you is aching for him — for more. And when he starts whispering in Korean again, low and deliberate, you can't take it. You moan his name, breathy and wrecked.

But not in English.

You say it in his language.

Chan freezes.

Just for a second.

Like the air's been knocked out of him.

Then his eyes meet yours, and they're blazing.

"Say it again," he growls. "Say my name like that."

You do.

Again. And again. Watching his control fray with every breathy syllable.

And when he finally gives in — when he settles over you, skin to skin, body to body — it's not just lust. It's a need. A promise.

He moves with purpose, every roll of his hips deep and consuming. His hard length presses against your inner thigh, hot and throbbing. You can feel the slickness between your legs, how ready you are for him. With a groan, he reaches down and guides himself to your entrance.

As he pushes inside, you feel yourself stretching to accommodate his considerable size. He feels huge like this, filling you completely. He sinks in to the hilt with a low groan. You feel impossibly full, almost to the point of pain, but it's perfect. He holds still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size.

Then he starts to move, slowly at first. Every thrust feels deeper than the last, like he's claiming you from the inside out. His hands stay on your skin, stroking, grounding you both. His lips find yours over and over, whispering your name like a mantra between kisses, never quite breaking contact — as if he needs to feel you at all times to stay sane.

And through it all, he keeps murmuring to you — sweet, filthy words in Korean, soft praise laced with heat. You don't need a translation. You feel what he means in the way he touches you, the way he moves inside you, the way he holds your face when your body starts to shake beneath his.

You're not sure what language you're speaking anymore, only that it's his, and that you're calling out for him like he's the only thing that matters.

Because in that moment, he is.

He shifts the angle of his thrusts, somehow going even deeper. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your orgasm building. He's relentless, pounding into you now, chasing his own pleasure. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh fill the room, mingling with your breathy moans and his guttural groans.

Suddenly, your climax crashes over you without warning. It's intense, all-consuming. You cry out his name as you fall apart beneath him, your nails digging into his back. He follows a moment later with a deep groan, his hips jerking erratically as he spills inside you.

When it's over — when both of you are spent and trembling, tangled together beneath the sheets, skin slick with heat and breath still uneven — he reaches for your hand beneath the blanket, twining your fingers with his.

"I'm never letting you keep secrets like that again," he murmurs, voice hoarse.

You laugh softly, cheeks still flushed, heart still racing. "Guess I'll just have to find new ways to surprise you."

He turns to you, brushing his thumb across your lower lip with a look that says he's far from finished.

"Oh, jagi," he whispers. "You will."

Taglist: @jehhskz

━━━━━━━━━━━━��━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ © @changbinniescurlyhair

[byhuenii]

YOU-ology

Pairing Bucky Barnes x Reader

Syonpsis Bucky has been trying to understand you—your habits, your silences, your smiles. You speak in gestures more than words, in shared glances and cups of coffee left just right.The problem? He doesn’t know what a “love language” is. It sounds like a literal dialect. So naturally, he puts on his reading glasses, makes a study binder, and asks Peter Parker to teach him Gen Z slang, but he knows one thing for sure: if loving you means learning everything—he’s ready to graduate with honors.

(Inspired by TXT 'Love Language')

Word Count 2.6k

Tags + Warning Soft misunderstanding / no angst, fluff overload, accidental confession via ASL, soft!bucky

— YOU-ology Researching you-ology, all about you, from A to Z

“I can’t read your mind,” he says, voice low. “But I want to.”

The sunlight hits just right in the Brooklyn apartment. You’re sitting on the windowsill, nursing your third cup of coffee, and Bucky’s leaning against the kitchen counter like the world isn’t tilting every time you look away from him.

You don’t speak right away. You’re used to silence. He’s learning that.

He watches as you stir your coffee absentmindedly. You always stir five times. Clockwise. Never more, never less.

He’s been keeping track of things like that.

Like how you always set out two mugs in the morning, even when he doesn’t sleep over. How you keep an extra blanket folded at the end of the couch even though he insists he doesn’t get cold. How you hand him a protein bar without asking if he’s eaten.

You don’t say much. But you do a lot.

And Bucky? Bucky’s trying to figure out if this—whatever this is—means what he hopes it does.

He’s never been great with feelings. Too many years pretending he didn’t have any. But with you, he wants to get it right.

“I think I might be speaking the wrong dialect of love,” he tells Peter Parker seriously. “Is there a Duolingo for romance?”

Bucky has fought in wars, survived brainwashing, outpaced death—and yet, nothing has confused him quite like you.

Well, you, and this strange thing Peter said over lunch the other day.

"Oh, love language? Yeah, it's like how people give and receive affection. You gotta know your partner's love language to really connect.”

Love language?

Bucky had blinked at Peter from behind his coffee, the words rattling around like marbles in a tin can. “There’s a language for that?”

Peter had shrugged like it was obvious. “Yeah, there are five. Physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, and gifts. You know… the usual.”

Bucky had nodded slowly, like he understood. He did not understand. He thought "acts of service" was a military term.

Back home, Bucky had pulled out his reading glasses (the ones Sam doesn’t know he owns) and Googled:

“What is love language.” “Love language translation.” “How to know if you’re good at love.”

Twenty tabs later, he had a headache, a notebook full of bullet points, and a tiny post-it with your name surrounded by little doodled hearts he definitely didn’t mean to draw.

STUDY NOTES:

☑ Quality time → you always wait for him after missions

☑ Acts of service → you make his tea how he likes it (2 sugar, no judgment)

☑ Physical touch → light shoulder pats, a knee against his under the table, casual-but-not-casual hand touches

☑ Gifts → brought him a vintage Captain America comic once. He almost cried.

☑ Words of affirmation → okay this one’s harder. You’re quiet. You show love, but don’t say it much. Still… he catches you looking. That means something.

He circles the last one twice.

—

One morning, Bucky shows up to your door with a homemade dictionary titled:

“You-ology: A Comprehensive Field Guide to Understanding You” (Vol. 1 — Beta Edition)

It’s leather-bound. Handwritten. Indexed.

There’s a doodle of you on page one that looks suspiciously like it was done by a man lying on his stomach with his feet up and his legs kicking.

You flip through it, trying not to grin. “You made me a… glossary?”

Bucky pushes his glasses up his nose. “I’ve been decoding your signals.”

“You’ve been—what?”

“You say things without saying them. And I figured maybe if I could learn your dialect, I could say things back.”

You’re stunned. Speechless. Warm all over.

“Bucky,” you say, “you’re literally learning a love language like it’s a spy code.”

He squints. “It’s not?”

Once Bucky learns that love languages aren’t actual dialects, he’s a little embarrassed. For five whole seconds.

Then he decides:

“Fine. Then I’ll try all of them. Just in case.”

And he does. With alarming dedication.

Words of Affirmation: You wake up to a note on your fridge:

“You’re the smartest person I know. Even smarter than Banner. (Don’t tell him.) - B”

And another on your coffee cup:

“You deserve the world. But I brought you coffee instead. I hope that’s okay.”

When you turn around, he’s leaning on the counter, flushed red. “Too much?”

Acts of Service: You offhandedly mention your sink is dripping.

The next day it’s fixed. And your drawer doesn’t stick anymore. And your laptop’s updated. And your favorite hoodie that you thought you lost? Folded on your bed.

He salutes you on his way out like it’s a secret mission. “All in a day’s work, ma’am.”

Quality Time: He clears a Saturday. No missions. No distractions.

You watch four movies, eat terrible microwave popcorn, and fall asleep on his shoulder.

He doesn’t move. Not for hours. His arm goes numb. He doesn’t care.

He tells Sam later: “Best damn day I’ve had in decades.”

Gifts: He leaves a flower on your desk. Not a rose. A tiny forget-me-not. The tag says:

“This reminded me of your laugh. Kind of small. Kind of magic.”

You keep it in a book. He notices. Doesn’t say a word. Smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

Physical Touch: He used to flinch. Now? He leans in.

You touch his hair once and he forgets how to breathe. Next day, he wears it slightly messy. Hopes you’ll do it again.

One day, you reach for his hand. He holds it like it’s fragile. Like you’re holding him. His thumb rubs soft circles into your palm.

“Just… letting you know I’m here,” he murmurs.

You squeeze back. “I know.”

Peter Parker ends up being his unofficial relationship coach.

“Wait—what’s a ‘green flag?’” “Peter, what does ‘simp’ mean?” “Is it normal to dream about their smile for six nights in a row or is that brain damage?” “Be honest. Am I down bad?”

Peter: “...You’re down astronomical, sir.”

—

One rainy night, you both get stuck in the Tower’s media room during a storm.

Bucky fidgets with the sleeves of his hoodie. You notice he’s scribbled something in the corner of his You-ology notebook.

You tilt your head. “What’s that?”

He doesn’t look up. Just says, “It’s… new vocabulary.”

He passes you the notebook.

 He wants to understand you like he’s memorizing a secret language only the two of you speak.

He clears his throat. “I’ve been… trying to study you. Is that weird?”

Your brows raise slightly in amusement. “Study me?”

“Yeah,” he says, running a hand through his short hair. “Like—figure out what you’re saying when you’re not actually saying anything.”

You look at him now, eyes softening. “You’ve been reading my… ‘you-ology?’”

He laughs. It’s a quiet, rusty thing. Rare. But so warm when it happens.

“I guess I have,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I know you like your coffee sweet but pretend you don’t. I know you always hum when you’re nervous, and you’ll never ask for help, but you’ll stay up until 2 a.m. helping me.”

His metal hand flexes. Nervous.

“And I know you look at me like I mean something… but I don’t know if I’m reading it right.”

Your voice is soft. “And what if you are?”

He stops.

His heart stops.

The sun hits your cheek just right, your smile so shy it breaks something open in him.

“I don’t talk much,” you add, “because I never really had to. Not with the right people. But I make sure they’re warm. That they eat. That they know I’m there, even when I can’t say it out loud.”

He swallows hard.

“Then I guess,” Bucky says slowly, stepping into your space, “I’ve been speaking your love language this whole time.”

You smile, fingers brushing the inside of his wrist. You trace the edge where skin meets metal. He shivers.

“And you?” you whisper. “What’s your language?”

He thinks. He’s never been asked that.

Maybe it’s not words. Maybe it’s quiet, safe mornings and the way he remembers your favorite color. Maybe it’s standing between you and the crowd even when there’s no danger. Maybe it’s showing up. Not running.

“I think,” he says, “it’s time. Sitting with you. Watching dumb movies. Letting you talk or not talk. Just… being.”

You nod. “Then you’ve been speaking mine too.”

His hand curls around yours.

Chapter 6: When I’m With You, Everything Makes Sense

Coffee = comfort

Silence = trust

Laughter = home

You = safe

You = mine? (still unsure. researching.)

Your throat tightens. “You big dork.”

He glances up, hopeful. “But… like, a lovable dork?”

You kiss his cheek. “Fluently lovable.”

Weeks later, you hand him a little leather journal.

On the front:

“Bucky-ese: A Guide to Loving You Back (YOU-ology)”

He flips it open.

Page One:

“Your love language is: All of them. But especially being seen. And I see you.”

He presses the book to his chest like it’s holy.

Then: “You wanna watch that stupid baking show and drink tea out of mismatched mugs like we’re 80?”

He grins. “That’s my favorite dialect.”

There’s no grand declaration. No fiery kiss.

Just soft, sacred quiet.

But that’s the thing about love languages. You don’t always need to hear them. Sometimes, you just feel them.

And Bucky?

He feels you.

—

Lately, he’s gotten really into studying TikToks and music videos you like. You walk in one night and he’s watching TXT’s “Love Language” choreo on repeat.

He’s squinting at the screen, rewinding and mimicking one particular moment — where the members make the “I Love You” sign in ASL, fingers shaped just right.

He sees you enter and lights up like a puppy who just figured out how to sit.

“Hey! I think I cracked it. That hand thing—like, this?” He does it—thumb, index, pinky up. “It’s like, modern slang for love, right? Like Gen Z emoji but with your hands?”

You pause mid-step.

Your heart thuds.

“Bucky… do you know what that actually means?”

He blinks. “Yeah! It’s like, ‘you’re cool’ or something? Peter said it’s used in dances a lot. You know, like ‘🤟 vibes only.’”

You stare at him. He’s still holding it up—so proud, so casual—like he didn’t just set fire to your entire nervous system.

“James.”

Your voice is soft. He stops.

You step forward slowly, take his hand in both of yours, and gently lower it.

“That sign isn’t slang,” you whisper, eyes searching his face. “It’s American Sign Language. It means ‘I love you.’ Literally. Not ‘cool.’ Not ‘vibes.’ Love.”

Silence.

His eyes go huge.

His mouth parts—then shuts. Then opens. Then shuts again. He is rebooting.

“…Oh.”

Then—quiet panic.

“…Oh.”

He scrubs a hand down his face. “Wait. Wait, I’ve been doing that for, like, three days. To you. While you were making dinner. On the couch. That one time in the elevator—”

You nod, very calm. “Yes. You told me you loved me 17 times. And yes, I counted.”

He is bright red. Apocalyptic red. He looks like he might spontaneously combust.

“I—I didn’t know—*I mean I do, I mean not like—*I mean obviously I do—” He’s flustered and fumbling, hands waving.

You grab them. Hold them gently. Steady.

“You really do?”

His voice is barely a breath. “Yeah.”

Your smile cracks through the tension like sunrise.

“Then say it again.”

You release one of his hands. He looks at you—heart on his sleeve, nerves frayed.

And slowly, deliberately, he lifts his hand again.

Thumb, index finger, pinky.

I love you.

And this time—he knows exactly what it means.

BONUS:LATER THAT NIGHT!!

He flops onto your couch face-down and groans into a pillow. “I confessed on accident like some kind of boyband backup dancer.”

You’re sitting next to him, stroking his hair. “It was perfect.”

He peeks up. “You sure?”

You grin. “Fluently perfect.”

He groans again—but he’s smiling.

—

“You’re my safe place, and I think I just proposed to you using the wrong hand sign, oh my god—can we rewind time or am I gonna die here on this rug?”

Bucky has a Plan™️.

After accidentally telling you “I love you” 17 times in ASL (without realizing it) and then on purpose (with realization), he’s decided he wants to learn a full phrase.

Something simple. Something sweet.

Something like:

“I’m happy with you.” Or maybe: “You’re my home.”

So he goes to Peter. Again.

Peter, to his eternal regret, pulls out a basic ASL learning app and walks Bucky through the signs.

Problem is, Bucky’s fingers don’t cooperate yet. His muscle memory is stubborn. His brain is full of you and short-circuiting.

What he meant to learn was:

“You make me feel safe.” (“YOU — MAKE — ME — FEEL — SAFE”)

What he accidentally signs, in a combination of nervousness and fumbled syntax, is:

“YOU — MAKE — ME — YOUR — WIFE.”

He doesn’t realize it.

You, who actually knows ASL, absolutely do.

It’s a quiet afternoon in your apartment. Rain against the window. Music low.

Bucky has that look again—the one where he’s clearly been practicing something all day and is about to do it nervously but dramatically.

You’re curled up on the couch when he stands in front of you, face serious, eyes way too shiny.

He clears his throat.

“Okay. I’ve been learning more. ASL. Because I wanna speak it the way you do. With your hands. With your heart.”

You melt. Instantly. He’s fidgeting, biting his bottom lip. He looks like a storm in a sweater.

Then he signs.

Slowly. Carefully.

“YOU — MAKE — ME — YOUR — WIFE.”

You freeze.

Your eyes go wide. Your heart? Gone. Brain? Empty.

Bucky is beaming.

“Did I get it right?”

You blink. “Um. Almost.”

“Yeah?” He looks so proud. “I practiced for, like, six hours. I wanted to say you make me feel… y’know, safe. Like… like I’m home.”

There is a pause.

Then you start laughing.

Not a mean laugh—a breathless, overwhelmed, you-are-so-stupidly-perfect-how-is-this-my-life laugh.

Bucky’s face crumples. “Wait. Did I say something weird?”

You can barely get the words out. “James Buchanan Barnes—you just proposed to me.”

He freezes.

Like—winter soldier frozen mid-mission freezes.

“…Wait. I what?”

You take his hands gently and show him.

“WIFE.” You do the correct sign. “SAFE.” You show the actual one. “Different hand shape.”

Bucky looks between your hands and his own like they’ve betrayed him.

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

“…Did I really just—?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“…Oh god.”

He immediately flops to his knees, hands in his hair, face in his palms. He’s red everywhere.

“I didn’t mean to propose. I can’t propose like that—there was no ring, no speech, no flowers—you were in socks—”

You blink. “Would it have been better if I wasn’t in socks?”

“YES. I mean NO. I mean—GOD.”

He’s pacing now. “Do we take it back? Is it binding? Is this like vampire rules where once you say it it’s done—I didn’t even kneel on purpose—”

You walk up to him.

Cup his cheeks.

He’s still spiraling.

“…Was it weird? Was it bad? Was it too soon? Do you wanna break up with me and then date me again so I can do it right?”

You shake your head, smiling.

“Bucky.”

He stops.

You lean in, press your forehead to his.

Then you sign, clear as day:

YES.

He freezes.

“Wait. Yes what?”

You say it out loud this time. Soft. Steady.

“Yes. I’ll be your wife.”

His breath leaves him like someone knocked it out with a hug.

“…Even though I proposed by accident?”

You kiss his nose.

“Especially because of that.”

Bucky buys a ring the very next day.

He still does the ASL sign for “I love you” every time you leave the room. You never get used to it.

And one day, he signs perfectly:

YOU — ARE — MY — SAFE — PLACE.

You tear up.

And then, just to mess with him, you sign back:

MAKE — ME — YOUR — HUSBAND.

He drops his drink.

You both laugh so hard you forget the world.

(You've got mail!) well well well..WELL WELL WELLLLLLLL. this has been fermenting in my drafts so uh hereee. its very fluffy and cute and so much grandpa barnes code. i whole heartily believe hes such a cutie like you can not convince me otherwise. stream txt love language tho! i rmbered i had this while i was kinda making a txt series avengers masterlist so uhhhh yeah! ALSO I HAD NO CLUE THAT HUENING KAI WAS TRYNA LEARN MY YOU-OLOGY IM BLUSHINGGG

Tag List (For Mr. James Buchanan Barnes is open)

@bbsbrina @herejustforbuckybarnes @barnesandbouquets

[luviestarz]

ɴɪꜱʜɪᴍᴜʀᴀ ʀɪᴋɪ ꜰɪᴄ ʀᴇᴄꜱ ! ✷

✷ jock!niki x tutor!gn!reader - @delcakoo (how is niki supposed to focus on biology when his shy tutor is so irresistible and fun to tease?)

✷ take (me) out - @jennaissantes (eating from each others plates)

✷ CUPID’S CORNER — nishimura riki - @amakumos (because he’s a little shit, nishimura riki sends a totally embarrassing confession about you to “cupid’s corner”, a twitter account that posts anonymous confessions from decelis academy students. but when that joke confession suddenly makes a bunch of people confess to you on cupid’s corner (for real this time!) riki finds that he’s jealous — and oh… he can’t believe it took him a fake confession to realise that he’s crazily in love with you.)

✷ NISHIMURA RIKI B☆YFRIEND HEADCANONS... - @tyunni

✷ NERVOUS : NISHIMURA RIKI - @str0l0gy (IN WHICH you make riki nervous.)

✷ THE ATTRACTIVE THINGS NISHIMURA RIKI DOES - @enhyqenn

✷ JOAH (I LIKE YOU) - NI-KI SMAU - @jayujus (in where fashion student and model, jo y/n, has been openly crushing on dance student, riki nishimura for god knows how long. that is until one day, she crushes on someone else and riki goes feral.)

✷ ( 尤も ) NATURAL — riki nishimura ᯽ - @latriii (It was natural to call you pretty, it was natural to approach you, it was natural to confess to you, and it was natural to like you. Sadly for Nishimura Riki, his liking for you was meant from afar. Riki had seen you at the volleyball court during the first day of hybe sport summer camp, since then— he developed a huge crush on you, word spread that a huge amount of people have.)

✷ [ NISHI RIKI AS YOUR HS TROUBLE MAKER BF — 🩹 !! ] - @invvuu

✷ ｡⋅✴︎｡⚬⋅ WHAT ARE WE? - @goldenhypen (the way you and riki act as best friends has everyone questioning what you two really are.)

✷ bad game (aim) - nishimura riki - @saursoob

✷ three strikes - nishimura riki x fem! reader - @boydepartment

✷ READ YOUR CONTACT— ni-ki - @mandukkul (riki gets a bit confused end ends up texting his talented gf)

✷ “kissing, I hope they caught us” ┈ ❊ ﹒ 🌪️ - @chlorinecake

✷ and you?  - @palajae (niki x tutor!reader)

✷ team captain - @jongseongsnudes (badboy!niki, bf!nishimura)

✷ ୨୧ KISS IT BETTER — n. riki - @bywons (badboy nishimura riki x f!reader)

✷ i’m just a teenage dirtbag baby ( like you. ) - @leaderwonim (nishimura riki was infamous for being handsome and also quite the character. he’d purposely throw papers everywhere, bump into people without a care, and ditch class like it was nothing. you were the complete opposite, but deep down, nishimura riki knew you were just like him)

✷ DUOLINGO DATE : NRK - @chaewandz (niki catches u practicing japanese on duolingo just for him while he’s asleep)

✷ plushies and pouts ☆ riki nishimura - @star-sim (that one time that riki punched your plushie and you got mad at him.)

✷ TEXT ME BACK! - @hoony2k (it's the middle of the night, the phone keeps buzzing, you've been trying to fall asleep, there's a knock on your window...wait what?)

[cumironi]

no good deed : CRYBANGERS.ᐟ

feat. jujutsu kaisen x high school AU!

summary :

A school where therapy is graded, emotional intelligence is currency, and no one makes eye contact without three layers of irony. This is Kinjouku. Every hallway? Charged. Every smile? Weaponized. Every student? Gorgeous, broken, and pretending not to notice. Then the podcast drops. Private Playlist :

An anonymous audio diary. One episode per week. One person exposed. Not rumors—recordings. The sex. The crying. The late-night “I love you” never sent. Someone saved it all. Someone’s playing God. And now everyone’s panicking in perfect high-definition. Friendships curdle. Lovers combust. Everyone wants to know who’s behind the mic—but no one wants to admit they’ve listened to every single second. This is not about the truth. This is about what’s said when you think no one’s listening. And what happens when someone was.

so, who’s behind the mic?

TAGLIST : OPEN! | PLAYLIST | LORE, EVERYONE

WHO’S THE SCREAMER?

EPISODE 01, MIC CHECK .ᐟ

✶, the podcast drops during morning assembly, and also. . . mid fuck. just static. then : “no good deed goes unpunished.” cut to a recording of audio from three hookups back to back, mei mei fucking three different partners. one of them is married, your teacher. one is naoya. one is sukuna. the school erupts. yorozu scream about sex is dead before she scream at disability girl.

EPISODE 02, THIS D$CK BRING HARM IS A SAFE WORD .ᐟ

✶, everyone got call to the gymnastics, big pink glitter dildo get passed on the back and yorozu scream at yaga and mei mei, sluts everywhere and everything all at once. at the party, shiu kong standing with scissor in hand, crying because his dick cause harm.

EPISODE 03, SCHOOL TRIP BEFORE THE DO I EVER AND SOMEONE GET PEG!

✶, school trip, alcohol tape to your body like a bomb, and everything got drunk, secret slips and someone got bitten by snake.

EPISODE 04, DUOLINGO : ADVANCED MOANING EDITION.

✶, someone get spitroasted by ... and toji in the soundproof language lab. they thought it was soundproof. it wasn’t. the pink glittery dildo back and yaga got yelled once again.

EPISODE 05, ETERNAL RECURRENCE .ᐟ

✶, a hidden camera in the chapel catches $ex orgy and one boy standing like messiah! body fucking on holy ground. someone spray-paints SACRIFICE HIM on his locker the next day.

EPISODE 06, CROSS MY HEART, STAB YOUR BACK .ᐟ

✶, a costume party turns into a scandal when the projector glitches and plays someone’s sex tape instead of the horror film. half the room recognizes the voice— shoko and toji fucking zenin. the other half pretends not to.

EPISODE 07, 3G : THE GUN, THE GIRL, THE GOD COMPLEX.ᐟ

✶, wanna take turn? guess who’s now? yup, yours. congratulations! now everyone knows you are a slut! and what’s more? the reasons behind your name or your slut of a mother?

EPISODE 08, THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SLUT AND SURVIVOR IS HOW LOUD YOU MOAN

✶, SOON. ..

EPISODE 09, MOANLISA AND ALIBIS.ᐟ

✶, SOON. ..

Trigger & Content Warnings :

High School x AU, non-sorcerer reader, sukuna is a menace, gojo is too pretty to be trusted, geto is manipulative with a god complex, reader is in way too deep, emotionally damaged hookups, forbidden relationship (student/older student dynamic), possessive sukuna, jealousy-fueled sex, hate sex, public sex (library stairwell), sex tape (unauthorized), leaked audio, cumshot audio, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (m+f receiving), oral fixation (biting, tongue kink), choking (light & consensual), degradation (mild to explicit), praise kink, size kink, overstimulation, manhandling, spitplay, face sitting, thigh riding, fingering (public), dirty talk (filthy, mean, affectionate), orgasm control / denial, power imbalance (emotionally & sexually), implied voyeurism, sex while crying (consensual, emotional breakdown), brief dubcon implications (consent blurred by trust), aftercare / post-sex softness, trauma-coded affection, heavy swearing, emotionally unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping through sex, mental instability (character), casual drug use (pills / joints), school scandal themes (leaks, blackmail, sex tapes, shame), discussions of manipulation, toxic exes, emotionally manipulative behavior (sukuna, geto, gojo), implied stalking (yorozu), revenge sex, public exposure risk, possessive & obsessive behavior, references to breeding kink (implied, non-explicit).

𝒊. These warnings exist to help readers navigate themes that may be distressing, uncomfortable, or simply not what they’re in the mood for. Please read them carefully and prioritize your own boundaries. This story contains elements of dark erotica, psychological manipulation, emotional trauma, and power imbalance. In the future, trigger warnings may be updated or expanded per chapter depending on tone, character focus, or thematic content. If something here isn't for you — that's okay. You are never obligated to read past your comfort zone.

[withleeknow]

lemuria.

pairing: hyunjin x reader genre/warnings: established relationship; fluff; unedited bc i suck, self-indulgent etc etc, this is pretty straightforward idk word count: 0.7k note: SO! the only reason i wrote this was bc of a certain purple-haired artist who altered my entire brain chemistry just by saying the words "ma petite artiste" 🫠 iykyk! but please tell me someone knows bc i am dying to talk about this with more people. even the title of this drabble is another desperate attempt to find my people lmao

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

In your head, you have a list of favorite things that can’t easily be topped: Saturday mornings (it’s the best time of the week, argue with the wall), cuddles with Hyunjin, and cuddles with Hyunjin on Saturday mornings. Not necessarily in that order though. You’re a simple woman.

You’re in bed, draped over his chest like a lazy house cat, watching as the sunlight slowly filters into your bedroom. Hyunjin’s got one arm around you and the other reaching for his lap, where he’s balancing a pencil and his open sketchbook, gracefully dragging the pointed graphite head across the page until the doodle is detailed enough for you to recognize. It’s nothing special — just the (dying) plant that sits in the corner of the room. At first glance, it seems healthy, lusciously green and thriving but really, it’s grown too leggy to be able to survive on its own.

You call it Viv, short for Vivian, which obviously is an unconventional name for a plant. Hyunjin says goodbye to it every time he leaves the house. In a way, you suppose it’s like a child that you care for with him, something that you try to keep alive and nurture together.

You sigh, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Your artist, your love. Your muse too if you were even one tenth as gifted as he is.

The sun ventures further into your safe space, tiptoeing across the wooden floors like slowly-skipping stones, brushing against every object in sight until it reaches the two of you. You lean back when the light lands on him, smoothing over his soft, soft hair, caressing his cheeks, weaving itself in the tiny spaces between his fluttering eyelashes. You’d put him in a museum if you could.

You don’t know what compels you to reach out, but your hand has a mind of its own anyway. It makes him pause the sketch, your fingertips tracing the slope of his nose and the curve of his lips. His chiseled jawline and the beauty mark that you love to kiss. Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin – important things must be repeated thrice.

“What are you doing?” he asks, a glint of amusement in his sharp eyes.

“This is my way of drawing you,” you say, completely unbothered, enamored with the way his smooth skin feels under your finger.

He hums, abandoning the pencil and the sketchbook in favor of catching your wrist and pressing his lips to the palm of your hand.

“Ma petite artiste,” he murmurs against your skin.

For some reason, it floors you. Flabbergasts you, stuns you into silence for a few seconds.

When you come to, you make a show of dramatically arching an eyebrow, a silent accusation despite the way your face flushes with a rosy tint, burning you from the inside out. You can barely suppress the smile that tugs on your lips, and Hyunjin catches it oh so easily.

“Where did you learn that?” you probe with affection. “Who are you trying to impress?”

“Duolingo,” he says as he moves to press you against the bed, ignoring the second question in its entirety because it simply doesn’t warrant an answer. Who else would he do anything for but you? Who else would it ever be for?

“Duolingo,” you repeat in amusing disbelief, barely containing the laugh that threatens to escape from your throat even though the heat on your cheeks is still painfully obvious to the both of you. You’re shy, embarrassed that all it took to melt you was a couple of cheesy French words he learned on Duolingo of all places, but Hyunjin is endeared, always so damn endeared by you and everything you do. “That owl teaches people how to flir–!”

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, doesn’t let you get to the quip before he’s kissing away whatever remaining wit you have in your flustered state. The kiss, deep and slow and intimate in a way that sets fire to the heart inside your ribcage; his lips, addictively soft and wonderfully warm, much like the caramel sunlight that dances over the two of you.

It’s Saturday morning, and your plant is still (probably) dying but you can’t really bring yourself to care about it right now, not when you’re drunk on his pillowy smile pressed against your own, on his quiet giggles as he tries to make you blush.

It’s Saturday morning, and Hyunjin is your favorite person in the world.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.03.2025]

[p0orbaby]

blurb idea- r is spanish and plays for arsenal, one day she finds leah on duolingo trying to learn spanish and finds it so sweet and leah is just emberrased and lalalla and then r convinces leah to let her teach leah spanish (sorry if it’s confusing😔😔)

it wasn’t confusing 🤍

-

The training ground is quiet, still wrapped in early-morning fog, and you don’t expect to hear anything but the hum of the groundskeeper’s mower. Instead, you catch a voice, stiff and deliberate, coming from the gym.

“Yo bebo… el agua?”

You pause at the door, peeking in. Leah’s standing by the weights, holding her phone at arm’s length like it might bite her. Her brow is furrowed, mouth moving around the clunky syllables like she’s trying to chew them into shape. You’re about to say something when she suddenly groans and yanks her headphones out. The familiar ding of Duolingo announcing another failed attempt echoes in the room.

“La niña’ what?” she mutters, more to herself than anyone else. She hasn’t noticed you yet. “How am I supposed to remember if she’s drinking milk or eating an apple? Who drinks milk anymore?”

“Leah?” you finally speak, trying to keep the laughter out of your voice.

Leah jumps, nearly dropping her phone. Her face turns pink immediately, the kind of flush that spreads to her ears and down her neck. “Oh, God. How long have you been standing there?”

“What are you doing?” you ask, even though you know perfectly well what you’ve walked into.

Leah groans, stuffing her phone into her hoodie pocket like the evidence of her crime can be erased. “Nothing”

You raise an eyebrow. “Nothing? Because it looked like you were arguing with Duolingo about la niña’s dietary habits.”

She flushes deeper, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing outright. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh? So you weren’t learning Spanish on the sly?”

“I—” she pauses, caught. “Alright, fine. I was. Happy?”

You grin, stepping into the room. “Why?”

She shrugs, looking everywhere except at you. “I thought it might… I don’t know, be nice? For you”

That catches you off guard. “For me?”

“Yeah.” She scratches the back of her neck, a telltale sign that she’s embarrassed. “Because, you know, you’re always switching between Spanish and English so easily, and I just thought maybe I could… I don’t know, keep up”

Your heart softens despite yourself. “You could’ve just asked me, you know. I’d have helped”

Leah shrugs, suddenly fascinated with the floor. “Didn’t want to bother you”

“You? Never a bother,” you say lightly, stepping closer. “But if you’d rather an app keep roasting you, be my guest”

Her gaze snaps to yours, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. “The owl’s ruthless, by the way. Keeps telling me I’m on the verge of linguistic failure”

You laugh, taking her hand and pulling her towards the weights bench. “Alright, let’s make a deal. I’ll teach you Spanish, but you have to actually listen to me. None of this owl nonsense”

“Deal,” she says quickly, her grin breaking through the last of her embarrassment. “But only if you promise not to tell the team about this”

“Cross my heart,” you reply, though you’re already imagining the look on the rest of the teams faces if they found out.

You sit yourself on the bench next to her, and start to teach her the basics. As she repeats the words after you, her accent is a disaster, but the determination in her eyes is unmistakable. And when she finally gets a phrase right, the way she beams at you makes your chest feel warm.

If this is her way of showing how much she cares, you’ll take it. Even if it means enduring her tragic attempts at rolling her r’s.

[amirawrah]

⭐︎ Bienvenue à la Famille

with KYLIAN MBAPPE⭐︎

synopsis: While on vacation with his family in France, you struggle to keep up with the fast-paced conversations. Kylian notices and quietly translates everything, making sure you never feel left out.

amirah: guys my first kylian fic hope you all like this also i wrote a smut like 😃

The scent of salt hung thick in the breeze, soft waves lapping lazily against the shore as the sun cast its golden light over the terrace. The Mbappé family vacation villa sat like a postcard on the French Riviera—white stone, terracotta roof, and views that made you forget the rest of the world even existed.

You sat nestled between palm fronds and wicker chairs, hands resting in your lap as bursts of French surrounded you like music you couldn’t quite catch the lyrics to. The table was full—Fayza was recounting a story to Jirès with animated hand gestures, Ethan was teasing Kylian in rapid-fire French, and an aunt you hadn’t even known was coming had just arrived with a tray of fresh clafoutis.

You smiled politely. You caught a word here, a phrase there—but most of it flew right past you, leaving you nodding along while pretending to understand. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been learning French—you had. Duolingo, late-night YouTube videos, Kylian quizzing you before bed. But nothing had prepared you for the pace of a real family conversation.

You didn’t think anyone noticed. You were wrong.

Warm fingers grazed yours beneath the table, and then—his lips were at your ear.

“She said Ethan used to scream every time he saw seaweed in the water. Like full panic attack, swim-for-your-life energy.”

You turned slightly, startled, and caught the subtle amusement dancing in Kylian’s eyes.

“He’s lying,” Ethan called from across the table, in English. “I was like, five.”

“Six,” Fayza corrected sweetly.

You chuckled as Kylian leaned closer again, his breath tickling your skin. “Don’t worry, I’m your personal translator now. You’ll never be lost.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “You just like whispering in my ear.”

“True.” He paused. “Also, it’s funny when you blush.”

And there it was—that smirk. The one that spelled danger with a capital K. He leaned back casually, arm brushing yours as he reached for his water, as if he hadn’t just turned your spine to jelly.

Later that afternoon, the group migrated to the beach. You walked barefoot through warm sand, your sundress fluttering in the breeze as you tried to hold conversation with one of Kylian’s cousins. She was sweet, maybe a few years older than you, but she spoke French like a bullet train. You caught the word jardin, something about her mother, and Instagram.

You gave her your best smile, heart sinking. You hated feeling like this. Like you were always one sentence behind, a guest in the middle of someone else’s language. The more you tried to keep up, the more the words blurred.

Suddenly, a hand slipped around your waist.

“She’s saying her mom wants to redo the garden and asked her to find inspiration online,” Kylian murmured softly. “Apparently, everything she pins ends up being pink.”

You exhaled, tension melting from your shoulders. You nodded at his cousin, laughed, and said, “C’est une bonne idée.” That's a good idea.

She smiled, delighted. Kylian squeezed your waist.

“She also just called you très jolie, by the way,” he added, dipping his mouth to your neck. very pretty

“Kylian,” you hissed, cheeks heating.

He grinned. “What? I didn’t want you to miss out.”

That night, the villa buzzed with activity. Someone had lit the grill, music flowed from a Bluetooth speaker, and laughter echoed beneath the stars. You sat curled on the outdoor couch, a plate of food balanced on your lap, watching Kylian help Ethan light sparklers near the pool.

Fayza joined you a few minutes later, handing you a drink.

“You look relaxed,” she said in warm accented English.

“I am,” you admitted. “It’s beautiful here.”

She nodded, then added, “You’re doing better with the language than you think, you know. It takes courage to listen this much.”

You blinked, touched by her words. “It’s hard, sometimes. I don’t want to feel like a burden.”

“You’re not. And you have him.” She nodded toward Kylian, who was now holding a sparkler like a sword while Ethan shouted something dramatic in the background.

You laughed. “He’s very helpful.”

Fayza gave you a look—one of those knowing motherly ones. “He’s smitten. You ground him. You notice that?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t know what to say, so you smiled, quiet and a little overwhelmed.

Then Kylian bounded over, cheeks flushed from laughter, still holding a sparkler.

“Come dance with me.”

“What?”

“I’m stealing you.”

You didn’t protest. He grabbed your hand, pulled you gently to your feet, and led you a few steps away from the group, into the soft shadows near the palm trees. The music floated out to meet you—smooth, slow, dreamy.

There, beneath the moonlight and fairy lights, he wrapped his arms around you and began to sway.

“You’re showing off,” you murmured, tucking your head into his chest.

“Always.”

You laughed softly, fingers brushing the back of his neck. “I don’t know the words to this song.”

“I’ll whisper them to you,” he offered. “But only if you promise to keep blushing.”

“I hate you.”

He grinned into your hair. “You love me.”

You looked up at him, at the way his eyes sparkled, at the hint of mischief and the abundance of affection.

“Yeah,” you said. “I really do.”

The next morning, you woke to the smell of croissants and sun-warmed linen. Kylian was already out on the balcony, shirtless, legs kicked up on the railing as he scrolled through his phone. He looked up as you appeared, eyes crinkling.

“Morning, sleepy.”

You stretched and padded over. “Did everyone already eat?”

“They’re downstairs. I saved you a chocolate one.”

You kissed his cheek. “Mon héros.” My hero.

He pulled you into his lap without warning. “Say it again.”

“What?”

“Mon héros. You sound cute when you try to be dramatic in French.”

You smacked his arm lightly as he laughed.

The rest of the week followed a rhythm—lazy breakfasts, chaotic lunches, sunburnt afternoons, and golden evenings spent wrapped in conversation, or wrapped in Kylian. You started understanding more. He would lean over to translate a joke, but by the end, you were laughing before he spoke.

Sometimes, he whispered things he didn’t need to translate.

“Tu es belle quand tu es confuse.” You look beautiful when you’re confused.

“Tu fais de gros efforts et c’est adorable.” You’re trying so hard and it’s adorable.

And your personal favorite, one night at dinner when you struggled to find the right word in French, and he leaned in and whispered, “Tu es déjà parfaite, ma chérie.” You are already perfect, my darling.

On your last night, the whole family gathered around a bonfire on the beach. The stars shimmered overhead like spilled sugar, and someone passed around roasted marshmallows and cheap red wine.

You leaned into Kylian, your head on his shoulder, and listened to the voices around you—laughter, teasing, warmth. And for once, you weren’t lost. You didn’t understand everything, but you understood enough.

You felt his hand slip into yours.

“You were amazing this week,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I fumbled through half of it.”

“And still you did it. I’m proud of you.”

You looked up at him, eyes soft. “You really helped me feel like I belonged.”

He leaned down, nose brushing yours. “You do belong.”

You kissed him—slow, grateful, a little tipsy from wine and love.

He smiled against your lips. “So, uh… want to practice your French?”

“Now?”

He grinned, eyes gleaming. “I have a few phrases in mind. Bedroom only.”

You swatted at him, laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

He caught your hand, kissed your knuckles. “Tu m'aimes pour ça.” You love me for it.

You sighed, pretending to be exasperated. “Unfortunately.”

He pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you and tucking you into his side.

The bonfire began to dwindle, embers glowing red like coals behind your eyelids as Kylian led you up the path from the beach, fingers laced tightly with yours. The moonlight painted silver over the trail of your footprints in the sand, and your heart thudded a little harder with each step closer to the villa.

You knew that look in his eyes—the low burn, the barely-contained tension. He’d been on his best behavior all week: polite, sweet, translating for you, being the golden boy his mom adored. But now, with everyone asleep and the night stretched out before you, something different lingered in the air.

The moment your shared bedroom door closed, he pressed you against it, his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

“You’ve been teasing me all week,” he said softly, his voice a low murmur, lips brushing your cheek as he spoke. “Smiling at me in that sundress. Kissing my neck on the beach. Whispering ‘merci’ every time I helped you with your French…”

“I was being polite,” you said, breath catching.

He leaned in until his lips hovered over yours, eyes burning. “You were being dangerous.”

Then he kissed you—and it wasn’t sweet anymore.

It was hunger and heat, weeks of holding back poured into a single, breathless moment. His tongue slid against yours with confidence, familiarity, and just enough restraint to keep your knees buckling but your heart racing.

His hands trailed down your arms, over your waist, until they gripped under your thighs. “Jump.”

You did—wrapping your legs around him as he carried you effortlessly to the bed, laying you down like you were something sacred. His mouth trailed down your jaw, along your neck, pausing at your collarbone where he sucked gently—claiming you, but tenderly.

You tugged at his shirt. “Off.”

He grinned, pulled it over his head, and you let your eyes linger—he was all golden skin and carved muscle, the athlete in him obvious, but what got to you most was the way he looked at you. Like you were the reason he breathed.

He kissed you again, slower this time, hands exploring the familiar curves of your body with reverence. “You’re shaking,” he whispered.

“I’m excited.”

He chuckled, dark and low. “Good. I want you breathless.”

Clothes disappeared, tossed to the floor in a trail that told a story of urgency and trust. He kissed every part of you—shoulders, hips, thighs—with a whispered compliment in French. You didn’t catch every word, but you didn’t need to.

You understood what he meant.

When he finally moved over you, hands on either side of your face, eyes locked with yours, he paused.

“You ready, mon cœur?”

“Yes.”

He kissed you once more before he slid inside—slow, deep, letting you feel every inch. You gasped, arching into him, and his mouth found your neck again as he began to move. His rhythm was steady, intentional—driving you wild but never rushing.

“Tu es si belle,” he whispered, his voice strained with desire. “So tight. So perfect.”

Your nails scraped down his back. “Kylian…”

Clothes disappeared, tossed to the floor in a trail that told a story of urgency and trust. He kissed every part of you—shoulders, hips, thighs—with a whispered compliment in French. You didn’t catch every word, but you didn’t need to.

You understood what he meant.

When he finally moved over you, hands on either side of your face, eyes locked with yours, he paused.

“You ready, mon cœur?”

“Yes.”

He kissed you once more before he slid inside—slow, deep, letting you feel every inch. You gasped, arching into him, and his mouth found your neck again as he began to move. His rhythm was steady, intentional—driving you wild but never rushing.

“Tu es si belle,” he whispered, his voice strained with desire. “So tight. So perfect.”

Your nails scraped down his back. “Kylian…”

“That’s it,” he breathed, voice thick. “Say my name. Say it again.”

“Kylian.”

He adjusted his angle slightly and you cried out—pleasure blooming sharp and bright through your whole body. His lips brushed your ear.

“Je t’aime comme ça… you feel that.”

You barely registered your answer—you were too lost in the feel of him, the tension curling tighter with each thrust. He reached down, thumb finding your clit, circling it expertly while his lips captured your moans.

“Let go, bébé. Viens pour moi.” Come for me.

And when you did—when the pleasure surged through you in a wave so powerful it left your vision white—you clung to him like he was the only thing anchoring you to the world. He followed seconds later, whispering your name like a prayer as he spilled inside you, body shaking, heart thudding against yours.

You lay tangled together in the aftermath, skin damp and legs still wrapped around him. He traced slow circles on your stomach, eyes half-lidded.

“So,” he said, lips curving into a lazy smirk. “Still nervous about French conversations?”

You laughed softly, breathless. “Not anymore.”

He rolled over, pulling you with him. “Good. Because the only phrase I want you to remember tonight is tu es à moi.” you are mine.

You repeated it, messy and sleepy. “Too-ay… ah mwah?”

“Close enough.” He kissed your forehead.

The room was still humming with aftershocks when Kylian sat up, brushing a hand through his curls. He looked over his shoulder at you, a little dazed, completely satisfied.

“You good?” he asked with a grin that could melt glaciers.

You stretched like a cat beneath the sheets, glowing, lazy, and so very warm. “I’m amazing.”

“Yeah?” He leaned down, kissing your shoulder. “Want to be even more amazing?”

You turned your head to look at him, already knowing what that smirk meant. “Kylian—”

He scooped you up, bridal style, without warning.

“Kylian!”

“We’re showering,” he said simply, like it was the most innocent plan in the world. “Can’t have you walking around dirty.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He nudged the bathroom door open with his foot and set you down on the tile, turning on the water to a perfectly warm temperature. Steam began to fill the glass enclosure, curling around your bodies like a promise.

The moment you stepped in, his hands found your waist.

“God, you’re unreal,” he muttered, eyes roaming your body as water cascaded down your curves. “Turn around.”

You did.

He stepped in behind you, his hands running down your back, fingertips gliding along your hips. You leaned into his touch as his lips kissed along your shoulder, and you could feel him harden against you again, pressing into your lower back.

“This was your plan, taking about dirty” you whispered.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, voice husky, grinding slowly against you. “Just trying to help you get clean…”

You braced your hands on the wall as his hands slid around to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples until you gasped. He tilted your head to the side and kissed you deeply, the hot water mixing with the heat of his mouth.

Then, with one arm wrapped tight around your waist.

He slid into you from behind with a slow, deep stroke that stole your breath. The position—his body flush with yours, the slippery slide of water and skin—made everything more intense. His rhythm was smooth and controlled, his hands everywhere: gripping your hips, sliding up your ribs, tugging gently at your hair as your moans echoed off the glass.

The glass steamed completely over as your body arched, and he reached down again, fingers circling your clit with precise pressure. It didn’t take long—between the warmth, the closeness, and the way he whispered your name like he was worshipping you—you fell apart in his arms, your body trembling as the orgasm rolled through you.

He wasn’t far behind, burying his face in your neck, hips jerking as he came with a groan that you felt all the way down to your toes.

You both stood there for a second, panting, water running down your overheated bodies.

Fifteen minutes later, you were wrapped in a towel, hair dripping, as Kylian walked out shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips. You were mid-lotioning your legs, humming to yourself when—

“YO!”

The bedroom door burst open.

Ethan stood in the doorway, holding a phone charger, absolutely frozen at the sight of you on the bed and his older brother stepping out of the bathroom behind you with damp curls and a smug expression.

“Oh my God—”

“Ethan!” you shrieked, diving under the sheets with your towel clutched tight.

Kylian, unbothered as ever, just crossed his arms. “Tu frappes avec ta bouche ou… ?” You knock with your mouth or…?

“"Êtes-vous sérieux?!” Ethan yelled, covering his eyes dramatically. “ Je suis venu emprunter un chargeur ! Je n'ai pas demandé à être traumatisé !” Are you serious?! . I came to borrow a charger! I didn’t ask for trauma!

You peeked out from under the sheets, face flaming, as Kylian tossed a pillow at Ethan’s head.

“Get out.”

“I am out!” Ethan backed into the hallway, flailing.

Kylian closed the door behind him, chuckling as he turned back to you. “So… breakfast with the family might be awkward.”

You flopped back on the pillows, groaning. “He’s never going to let us live this down.”

Kylian climbed into bed beside you, pulled you into his arms, and kissed your temple. “He’ll survive.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Of course,” he said smugly. “We’re finally even. I walked in on him last year. Now he knows how it feels.”

You stared at him. “Your whole family’s just casually walking in on each other?”

He winked. “Welcome to the Mbappés, baby.”

[bambisnc]

𝖥𝖱𝖮𝖬 𝖠 𝖳𝖮 𝒵 ᕱ ᕱ i wanna speak "you"!

                  ❪ ➴ ❫─── 라이즈; hearing you speak your native language

ft. OT7 % fluff crack + hcs + 0k && w. i'm just yapping highkey + unspecified language so that this works for ALL of my baddies ˖ ✧

♡ [ t-t-teach me all about your (love) language ] : ty for sending in this request anon !! i hope i can continue to make you happy hehe :3

++ quick yap hi if i sched this right it should be on the day i start volunteering :3 also lwk gonna make an en- vrs of this so more ppl can see how funny i am

                  🔗. 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝗈 𝙁𝗶𝗟𝗘 ᰈ̠ 𝗡𝘼𝗩𝗶𝗚𝘼𝗧𝗘 ✮ 𝗖𝙇𝗶𝗖𝗞

大崎将太郎 — ❪ OSAKI SHOTARO ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤi see him as being instantly drawn in by you speaking it. will pull out his glasses and go full language nerd mode TRUST me. he's gonna get on duolingo and be sapphire league in NO time. but definitely be ready for constant "hey, how do you pronounce this word again?"s or "WAITT what does that phrase mean :O"s. when (not if) he's decently fluent, he'd whip out his new skills to impress you EVERY chance he gets ><

송은석 — ❪ SONG EUNSEOK ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤyou cannot look me in the eyes and tell me he wouldn't be slightly annoying (but like affectionately) about it. giggles like a 12 year old if you curse in your language and says it sounds hotter (totally not based on irl events btw) because it's more "authentic" like !! you do you sir !! also asks you to teach him stuff like "ily" in the language to say it right back to you (even if he does lowkey butchers the pronunciation </3)

정성찬 — ❪ JUNG SUNGCHAN ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤstunned pikachu face reincarnation on god. no because he'd be so dramatic about it "how could you hide this from me 💔💔💔" type shit like chill please... he'd be such a fanboy about it though. "wait say that again. one more time. no wait, two more." would use wanting to learn the language as an excuse to rope you into so many movie nights w/ all your favorite ones in the same language

박원빈 — ❪ PARK WONBIN ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤhe will have literal heart eyes. argue with the wall idc. lowkey malfunctions, drops everything to stare at you. also be cautioned; he might get a little obsessed with it </3 would hold up things to you and ask you what you would call it in your language and go "woah..." every single thing.

홍승한 — ❪ HONG SEUNGHAN ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤtries to act nonchalant so hard but he's like swooning with 10 minutes. will also definitely use it as a way to be a flirt; he'd do all his research to curate the best pick up lines he can in your language just to match you whenever you ALSO he'd try to get the accent right (if there is one in the language) so hard and he'd decide that he can speak the language too now. trust him.

이소희 — ❪ LEE SOHEE ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤpretty boy would likely ask you your "favorite words / phrases" and learn them for you and will also be the biggest hype boy EVER + i think he'd also want to learn how to write basic stuff in the language so that he can leave you cute little notes. might also tear up if you something sweet / confess your love in the language; will insist he's fine though :(

이찬영 — ❪ LEE CHANYOUNG ❫  

ㅤㅤ౨ৎㅤㅤprobably would act Kinda normal about it, he'd say something along the lines of "oh you can speak this language? i had no idea" but you will never catch him interrupting you EVER (which he wouldn't usually either, bc listener bf !! but especially when you're talking in your native language) and slightly similar to sungchan, but he'd get super into songs in that language + would love to listen to you sing along too

𐙚 . regulars : @x0llaz @fae-renjun @nicholasluvbot @totheseok @hanninova @evanesceki @soobundle1009 @cuntyhoesstuff @chrrific ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[voxslays]

WUTIWANT — IN-HO & GI-HUN

PART TWO — RED LIGHT, GREEN LIGHT SUMMARY: After playing a game of Ddakji with a tall, mysterious man in a subway, you find yourself scared and alone—trapped in a series of deadly games with people who don’t speak your language. PAIRINGS: Thanos x Reader (this chapter only) In-ho x reader, Gi-hun x reader WARNINGS: Reader is American, Gi-hun & In-ho both speak English.

You could understand some basic Korean sayings and phrases, but nothing Duolingo taught you could prepare you for something like this. You had struggled to keep up with conversations in normal, everday Seoul, but now that you were practically kidnapped by unknown men in masks, you didn’t know what to do.

They were saying something about children’s games and a prize from what you could understand, which wasn’t much admittedly. You were then prompted to sign a player consent form before being led to the first game. You stood in a large open roof box, with the walls to be painted like a field, reminiscent of your own childhood.

“Señorita, excuse me.” Someone said in English, you swiftly turned around to be met with a tall man, sporting violet hair. “Hi.” You waved politely. “You speak English?” You ask. “Of course.” The man responds, flexing his large veiny hands. He had multiple rings, a long tattoo, and his nails were painted the colors of the rainbow. “What’s your name?”

“Thanos.” He smiles, giving you a finger heart. “Oh!” You gasp, finally realizing. “I understand the nails now.” You smile. The man was about to say something when a loud robotic voice came over the loudspeakers. ‘The first game is Red Light, Green Light.’ The femme voice said, her tone as monotone as the dark clouds on a stormy day.

‘Cross the finish line without getting caught in five minutes. If you do, you pass.’ This might not be as bad as you thought. It actually sounded pretty easy. When the pink guards were talking about children’s games, you hadn’t expected to know any of them. But Red Light, Green Light? You used to play it all the time. How hard could it be?

“Green light!” The doll on the far side of the arena shouted. You quickly moved up, eager to win, despite the strange circumstances you were brought here under. A man runs in-front of you, yelling something in Korean you cant quite understand. “What’s he saying?” You ask Thanos.

“Just some crazy shit about people dying.” The man responds, unfazed. “Reminds me of my old man.” He chuckles. Huh. “Do you think he’s high?” You ask. Thanos smiles. “Nope.” He pauses as the doll calls out ‘Red Light.’ “No one is like that when they’re high.” You roll your eyes playfully. “You’ve been high?”

“You interested?”

Your conversation is interrupted by a faint buzzing sound. “What’s that?” Player 196, the girl in-front of you asks, staying as still as possible. “It knows you’re a flower.” Thanos pauses again, as if wondering if he should tell her. “There’s a bee on you.” The girl starts screaming and flailing her arms. Good going, ‘Thanos.’

“Crap.” She laughs. “I just moved.” Before she can say anymore though, there’s a gunshot and her body dramatically thuds to the ground. You gasp, your breath catching in the back of your throat as the girl’s blood sprays all over your face. What the hell? The crazed man from earlier yells something else in Korean you can’t understand.

“What is he saying!?” You feel tears streaming down your face. Thanos doesn’t respond. At the next green light, he simply opens his cross and takes out a colorful pill. You ignored him. All you needed to do was make it across the finish line without moving. You used to play this game all the time as a kid, don’t mess it up now.

[orimuraa]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Off my face - Nishimura Riki Smau

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆transferring from japan to a korean school comes with many struggles, but one sweet boy made it all worth while. so what happens when you accidentally catch feelings for each other? ⨾

۶ৎ nishimura riki x fem!reader ┆student au┆strangers to friends to lovers┆he fell first and he fell harder┆angst if you squint, fluff, crack┆swearing┆featuring: enhypen, ningning from aespa, soul from p1harmony, felix and lee know from stray kids, rei and yujin from ive, more to come...

kang haerin as face claim !! i know haerin isnt japanese but its just for the purpose of the smau

start date: Dec 15, 2024 end date: Jan 28, 2025

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first smau!!! i promise, ill try and update this as consistently as i can. please note that i might use kys/kms jokes and some suggestive jokes so please dont read this if you are sensitive to that type of content. enjoy!

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

Profiles: duolingo victims┆we love jake's mom

chapter 1: new girl chapter 2: why do you like toes? chapter 3: cute boy chapter 4: she called me cute?! chapter 5: refrigerator door chapter 6: personal translator chapter 7: i think i like him chapter 8: practically in love chapter 9: operation ynki is a success!!!

fin!

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

send an ask or comment to be tagged for chapters ^^

[florawrites-blog]

Can't catch us - enhypen

-when you and them get caught mingling

Lee heeseung - 이희승

Heeseung woke up in an usual flirty mood, his eyes following your every movement as you prepared breakfast. Standing in the kitchen, you could feel his gaze lingering, making you flustered. When you turned around, he was shamelessly checking you out, his eyes tracing every curve, and he gave you a small, playful grin. He stepped closer, one hand brushing through your hair as he leaned in, savoring the scent of your new shampoo. Feeling the tension build, you instinctively leaned toward him, your cheeks almost touching.

Just as things were heating up, Jake shuffled into the kitchen, sleepily rubbing his eyes and muttering a groggy “good morning.” Startled, you quickly pushed Heeseung away, trying to refocus on breakfast. The push caused Heeseung to stumble right into Jake, who looked utterly confused as Heeseung tried to play it cool by pulling Jake into an impromptu hug.

Jake just stood there, dazed and wondering why Heeseung was suddenly so affectionate, while Heeseung acted like it was the most natural thing in the world. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, a mix of awkwardness and amusement filling the kitchen.

Park jongseong - 박종성

After dinner, you’re tidying up the living room, fixing the pillows on the couch as part of your organizing duty, while Jay tackles the dishes. Technically, it was only supposed to be your job, but Jay had insisted on helping out, knowing you’d lost at rock-paper-scissors. As you fluff up the last pillow, Jay sneaks up from behind, draping his arms around your waist and leaning his chin on your shoulder.

In a low, slightly raspy voice, he whispers, “Can I help you, m’lady?” His words, warm against your ear, send a wave of goosebumps across your skin. You try to brush it off, muttering, “Um… no, they’re just pillows. I’m… good.” But he just leans in even closer, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Before he can say more, Sunoo’s voice rings out, calling for Jay as he continues his endless complaints about his argument with Ni-ki. Hearing Sunoo’s footsteps approaching, you take your chance, grabbing a pillow and pressing it firmly against Jay’s chest, pushing him back. You slip away with a small grin, leaving Jay standing there, slightly frustrated but clearly amused, watching you escape with a glint in his eye that promises he’ll get you back for this later.

Sim jaeyun - 심재윤

You’re sitting with Jungwon, guiding him through his English lessons, as he grows increasingly frustrated with Duolingo correcting him. For the past hour or more, you’ve been helping him, and he’s finally starting to relax, even cracking a smile as you both laugh together.

Just then, Jake calls, sounding adorably dramatic as he tells you he misses you and insists you come back to bed or he’ll "lose his mind." You chuckle, brushing it off, knowing how over-the-top he can be. But moments later, Jake appears, snuggling into you like a koala. Taken by surprise, you try to gently push him away, aware that Jungwon is watching you both with a mildly bewildered expression.

When Jake refuses to let go, Heeseung walks into the room. You take the opportunity to disentangle yourself, nudging Jungwon toward Jake with a mischievous grin. Jake just clings to Jungwon without a second thought, completely unbothered, while you escape the chaos with a smile, leaving Jungwon to handle Jake’s clinginess.

Park sunghoon - 박성훈

You and Sunghoon were in the living room, perched on the edge of the table while he focused intently on his laptop, working on something serious. You couldn’t help but be captivated, admiring his focused expression, and feeling a surge of affection as you watched him. The feeling was so overwhelming that you began covering his face in soft, adoring kisses, each one carefully placed over his moles, his features, and every pore. Sunghoon didn’t even seem to notice, completely engrossed in his work.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and in walked Jay and Ni-ki, returning from outside. Startled, Sunghoon quickly pulled back, sitting up straight and breaking the intimate moment as if nothing had happened. You just sighed and shook your head in mock disappointment, knowing Sunghoon wasn’t one for public displays of affection. You brushed it off with a smile, understanding him all too well.

Kim sunoo - 김순우

You and Sunoo were curled up on the couch, his arm draped around your shoulders, when he suddenly turned to you with a question. "Would you still love me if I were a color?" he asked, his expression completely serious. Smiling, you cupped his face and brushed your nose against his. "I’d love you even if you were a germ," you replied softly.

Just as he leaned in, about to brush his nose back against yours, Ni-ki walked by, rolling his eyes with a sigh. "Get a room," he muttered, continuing on his way. You and Sunoo jumped, eyes wide and frozen in place, your hearts racing from the scare. Once Ni-ki was gone, you both laughed nervously, trying to shake off the unexpected terror of nearly getting caught in such a cheesy moment.

Yang jungwon - 양중원

You’d been giving Jungwon the cold shoulder all day after he ate the last Subway cookie you’d been saving. No amount of his kisses or cute attempts to make it up to you had worked so far, and you kept brushing him off. But as you sat pouting, focused on the essay you’d been dreading, Jungwon couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled you into a kiss, surprising you. Despite trying to stay firm, his persistence won you over, and you kissed him back, forgetting all about your cookie grudge.

Just as things started to heat up, hands tangled in his hair, you suddenly heard footsteps approaching. Panicking, you yanked Jungwon back by his hair, making him let out a little hiss of surprise. Sunghoon walked in just in time to witness the scene, raising an eyebrow. "All this over a cookie, Y/N? I’ll buy you more; please don’t kill him." His dry tone only made you roll your eyes and laugh, finally letting Jungwon off the hook.

Ni- ki -남편

The tension in the hallway was so thick that it felt like you could cut it with a knife. Your eyes locked with Ni-ki's, neither of you willing to break the gaze. The longer you stared, the more you felt the invisible force pulling you closer, as if the world had stopped and it was just the two of you in that tiny space. You could practically hear your heartbeat as it drummed in your ears, and Ni-ki’s piercing stare felt almost too intense, but you weren’t backing down.

Then, just as your faces were nearly inches away, Jay’s door swung open with a loud creak, and you immediately snapped out of the tension, your instinct to escape kicking in. Without missing a beat, you bolted away, rushing past Jay’s doorway and into the safety of the room, leaving Ni-ki behind to deal with whatever just happened.

Jay, of course, didn’t miss a beat either. His casual "Sup, bro" echoed in the hallway, his tone as laid-back as ever, trying to play it cool despite the obvious strangeness of the situation. Ni-ki just stood there for a moment, still processing what just occurred, his eyes narrowing at Jay as if to say, You have no idea what just happened here.