#with a knowing smile letting him know it's ok and time for him to go

[anonf1writer]

the reaction after he stands up for his family — single parent universe

second part to this.

text au. ig post. 2k words. drivers: max, charles, oscar and lando.

note: i promised there would be a second part, and here it is. i tried something different, so i hope i didn’t disappoint (although i have the feeling already this wont be everyones cup of tea, so im sorry in advance!).

thank you to everyone who sent requests that led me to create this cute universe. ive had the greatest time with it, and i know it wouldnt have happened without your ideas. so thank you ❤️

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MAX

First, came the soft click of Oliver’s bedroom door, and then the lazy thump of Max’s feet making his way back to you. 

Leaning your side against the kitchen counter, you knew a conversation was coming. From the moment you heard the question and turned the TV off, to the moment Max arrived home with a smile on his face, you knew it wouldn’t be something either of you could ignore. 

“Fucking hell,” he murmured as soon as he stepped into view, both hands running up and down his face. “I can’t remember the last time I wanted to punch someone’s stupid face this fucking much.”

You pressed your lips together and shifted on your feet, stepping away from the counter. This was the first moment alone the two of you had gotten after the race, the first moment without a little boy demanding attention, and the first moment Max was finally letting it all out. The anger, the frustration, the disappointment. So you didn’t want to shush him. You didn’t want to tell him he shouldn’t be cursing and swearing right now, that he should be careful, that he should think before he spoke. It didn’t seem fair to him, especially after he had clearly tried his best to put on a fantastic show in front of your son. 

“Did you watch it?” he asked, voice closer than before.

You nodded, removing the whistling kettle from the hob and stepping towards the empty mugs. “Just saw the video. We were watching it live on TV, but I turned it off as soon as I noticed what was happening.”

“Shit.”

“Oli didn’t hear a thing tho, don’t worry about it.”

You took your time filling the first mug, watching how the tea bag floated and swayed in the water, then eventually sank into the bottom. 

“They were so out of line,” Max said, his voice a quiet whisper in the bright kitchen. “I can’t believe that question even crossed their minds.” 

“I know…” 

“But I caught his name,” Max added. “And I had a meeting with the team as soon as I called the interview off. I’ll make sure that guy doesn’t get a fucking word from me anymore.”

You nodded again, and poured boiling water into the other mug. His mug. 

A moment went by before you felt him. Before he wrapped his arms around your waist, rested his chin on your shoulder, and pressed his chest against your back. 

“You ok?” he asked, voice low and too close to your ear. 

You placed the kettle back in place and nodded, one hand resting on his forearm and the other reaching to touch his face. 

“Yeah…” you said, your body instantly leaning into him. “I’m just… I hate that you had to go through that.”

Max nodded, his facial hair brushing your skin as he moved to kiss your palm. Once, and twice. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “For putting you two in this position.”

At that, you frowned. You dropped your hand and shifted on your feet, turning to properly face him. 

Max’s exhaustion was written all over him. But there was also worry there. Maybe a little bit of fear, too. 

“Hey,” you said, hands cradling his cheeks, eyes firm inside his gaze. “Don’t be silly. What you did for us was amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The way you stood up for us… The fact that you won’t let anyone speak about our son like that… That’s what I care about.” 

He sighed, then leaned in. Forehead resting against yours while he closed his eyes. 

“Our son,” he repeated, like he was savouring the words. 

“Mhmm…” You nodded, slightly. Just for him to feel the movement face to face, skin to skin. “It was really hot, y’know? To see you like that…”

Max smirked. Eyes staying close while he listened to you.

“The way you talked about us… How you got all worked up… When you said ‘that kid is mine’?” You sighed. Loudly than you normally would. Your hands moving down to his neck, shoulders, then back to cradle his face. “And then when you stormed off… Damn you, Max.”

A low, amused chuckle escaped from his chest, his whole body shaking lightly against you. “I should’ve figured you’d like that.”

“You should, yeah…”

You leaned in, then. Your lips barely meeting his before you pulled back again.

Max reacted instantly, taking a step forward and fully pressing you onto the counter, his feet slotting between your legs. “Hate teasing,” he murmured, already crashing your mouths together for a much needier kiss. 

You smiled, his lips barely giving you any time before he was capturing them again. 

And again. 

And again. 

──────────────────

CHARLES

──────────────────

OSCAR

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LANDO

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Lando said, leaning against the handrail and watching Olivia run around the synthetic grass of the paddock. Just like you had been doing for the past ten minutes or so. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you said. “They were the ones who crossed the line.”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” you said, curling your lips into a smile just in case someone was watching you. “Like I said, it wasn’t your fault. That’s not up for discussion.”

Next to you, Lando sighed. Loudly. 

You heard it, you felt it. 

His unhappiness with your answer.

So you shifted on your feet, crossed your arms on your chest, and kept your eyes ahead as you said, “You stood up for her. That’s what matters to me. I wish these things didn’t happen at all, but it’s not up to us. We can’t control what others say or do, but we can control how we react to it. And the way you reacted… That’s how I want it to be. So as long as you stand up for her, just like you did today, then you don’t have anything to apologize for.”

For a moment, Lando didn’t talk. Didn’t move. Didn’t react. He just stared ahead, focusing on the little girl that had everyone’s attention as she distributed papaya-unicorn stickers all around. And then, when you thought he would finally speak up, he just coughed and looked away. As if taking a break to organize himself before returning his gaze back to her. 

To your daughter. 

Yours, and his. 

“Should we go inside?” you asked. “Talk inside?”

He shook his head. “She’s having fun… I just… I wanna watch her for a while.”

You nodded, but your heart skipped at that, and you couldn’t help but sigh and take a step closer to him. Unwillingly. Without thinking. 

Elbow almost, almost touching his arm. 

Lando’s whole body stiffened. 

He stretched his legs, straightened his back, and pulled his arms closer to his sides. 

And the tiniest gasp left his mouth. 

Once again, you couldn’t help yourself—you snorted, bringing your hand to cover your mouth and lowering your chin to look down at your feet.

“What?” he asked, quietly. But you could hear the smile in his voice. The amusement. Growing just like yours.

“Shut up,” you said, muffled behind your hand. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

Shaking your head, you held back your laughter and looked up, eyes meeting your oblivious daughter. Happy and full of energy amidst so many strangers. 

You dropped your hand back down to cross your arm around your chest, and after a beat, you murmured, “I can already imagine a video going viral…”

You caught the way he nodded. 

Neither of you ever facing each other.

But keeping the conversation for only the two of you to hear. 

“Lando Norris avoids contact with his girlfriend,” he said. 

And then, you cackled. Dropping your head back and laughing to the sky while bringing both hands to cover your mouth. 

Next to you, Lando chuckled as well, albeit not as hard. The soft sound making its way to you and adding extra warmth to your already heated cheeks. 

He waited until you had calmed down before speaking again, the playfulness hinted in each syllable of each word. “Little do they know… All along, I’m the one who’s been deprived of love.”

“Oh my God,” you grunted and laughed. A mix between disbelief, but also joy. “You’re so dramatic.” 

“Dramatic? Please. I’m just a boy… Standing next to a—”

You gasped and turned your body, leaning onto your side so you could face him. 

“—a girl… Asking her to hold my hand.”

“Lando…”

“Or give me a hug.”

“You do not get to quote my favorite movie back at me.”

He shook his head, eyes still fixed ahead of him. “Just anything,  really.” 

You pressed your lips together and turned back to Olivia, a sigh leaving your chest while you watched her engage in a conversation with some other kids she had met earlier that day. 

“You know that’s not how it works.”

Lando, on the other hand, simply smirked to himself.

“What I know is that you won’t love me in public.” 

“Because you get way too handsy!” you reminded him. “And you don’t know how to kiss me in public. You always end up going for a full make out session. Why is it so hard to keep it simple?”

“Because it’s you!” he laughed. “Can’t help it if you’re irresistible!”

“Yeah, well…” You shrugged. “If you can’t help it, then we stick to my rules.” 

“Fine.” 

“No PDA.”

“I know.”

“That’s all.”

“Yep.”

You sighed. 

He sighed. 

Max and Pietra stepped out of hospitality, both of them stopping to chat with Olivia before she pointed straight at where you were. Lando’s best friend looked at you and nodded with understanding, meanwhile his girlfriend waved and lowered her weight to get Livie’s attention. 

You knew, from that on, that Max and Pietra would keep an eye on her. That they would stay around and give you two a chance to take a little break, like they usually did. 

“I never thought I could get so mad at someone,” Lando blurted out. So out of nowhere that you needed to blink a couple times to make sense of it. “I’m watching her right now and it’s just… Look at her… She’s the cutest child around here… She’s kind to everyone… Makes everyone laugh… Always has the funniest, most random comments… And she’s so sassy and bold in such an adorable way… She’s just perfect. How can they… I mean how can they even ask something like that? I don’t get it.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, and you found yourself unable to reply.

“I meant what I said, y’know? About being proud of being her dad… I know it’s not on the paper… But I don’t mind that… Like it won’t make me love her any differently… What we have now it’s something I’ve earned, y’know? We’ve built it from scratch… I know you wouldn’t have allowed me to be here if you didn’t mean it… So I just… I can’t imagine my life without you anymore… Both of you. And I hate that they tried to use that against me… Because they knew what they were doing when they asked that… They knew they would touch a nerve…”

The emotions in his voice touched your nerves, your instincts, your need to protect him and stand up for him. And before you knew it, you were already walking. Already stepping away from the handrail, turning to him and closing the distance. Until you were standing in front of him and then close enough to crush your body to his. Wrap your arms around his waist and press your cheek against his chest. 

“Whoa…” Lando stumbled the slightest, the handrail keeping him in place as he placed both arms around your shoulders and kept you close. Close. Close. Close. “Hold on with the PDA, love.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled. “Just take it.”

At that, he chuckled. Chin pressed on your temple and arms squeezing you tightly. 

“Your favorite words.”

“Lando!”

“What?!”

You pinched his hip, and he flinched.

“Heyyy!” he laughed.

You smiled, cheek all nuzzled onto him while the world kept moving around you. While the public walked up and down the paddock. While curious eyes and intruding cameras watched you. 

“I love you,” you said. “And I’m so proud of you. Really. Thank you, for everything you do. For who you are. I can’t imagine our lives without you anymore, too. I don’t want to know what it would be like to go back to a life without you. So again, thank you.”

“Who are you and what—”

“Lando!” 

“Ok, ok,” he laughed. “I’m shy, I get nervous…” 

“I know, but I had to say it.”

He shifted his arms, his hug getting both gentler and tighter at the same time. 

“I love you,” he whispered in your ear. “And I can’t wait to show you how much. But Livie is running up to us right now, so I’ll keep it to myself for now… Just for now.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

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[charles-leclerizz]

wrong room

on the runway : lando norris x fem!reader

inspiration ( warnings ) : Smut !!! (male receiving!oral sex, (un??) protected p in v sex , light dominance, Lando being a little possessive, mutual pining, soft dom!Lando energy, swearing, teasing, light voyeuristic vibes (friends nearby), mild praise kink, overstimulation), and lots of suggestive jokes.

VIP's in the front row ( taglist ) : MUTUALS GET INSTANT TAGS [@vroomvroomcircuit, @disneyprincemuke, @verstappen-cult, @starkwlkr, @sailing-with-100-ships, @foreveralbon, @ksthegreat, @ccupcakqs]

before the show begins ( synopsis ) : What starts as a summer getaway at a friend’s villa turns into something a lot hotter when Lando walks into the wrong room - and finds you in his old hoodie, watching F1 replays. You’ve always been friendly, never close. But maybe the hoodie wasn’t the only thing you’ve been holding onto.

designer notes : well, hopefully it was worth the wait <33 . would ya'll be mad at me if I told you I haven't started chapter 3 yet? nah, cause I'm feeding you guys so well?? ok anyway, remember to wear your seatbelts. love you

The villa is carved into the hills of Côte d'Azur like a dream - terracotta tiles, arched windows, the sea glittering just beyond a blur of lemon trees and white parasols. It smells like salt, sunscreen, and freshly crushed mint. Laughter carries from somewhere deeper inside the house, floating up and over the vines crawling across the exterior walls. 

You shift your bag higher onto your shoulder and knock on the already - slightly - open door. It creaks as it swings wider. 

“Hello?” 

No answer - just music thumping softly from an unseen speaker, and the echo of distant conversation. 

You step inside. 

The marble beneath your sandals is cool. Someone’s kicked off flip - flops by the stairs. There’s a bikini drying over the back of a chair. You already know this isn’t going to be some luxury hotel - style getaway. It’s a shared house. A friend - of - a - friend kind of trip. Half of you doesn’t even remember who invited you - just that you needed the break, and this was close enough to what you craved so you said yes 

“Hey! You made it!” 

A voice - familiar - cuts through the quiet. You turn just in time to see your friend Luca come down the stairs in a pair of swim shorts and sunglasses pushed back into his curls. 

“Finally,” he grins. “You’re the last one here. Thought you bailed.” 

“I almost did.” You lift your bag with a huff. “Traffic was disgusting.” 

He helps you with your things, leads you into the living room where it smells like watermelon and something vaguely alcoholic. A few people are sprawled out on couches or clustered around the pool deck visible through the wide - open French doors. 

And then - of course - he’s there. 

Lando. 

He’s leaning back in one of the lounge chairs, a beer dangling from his fingers, legs stretched out in lazy confidence. Tan lines on his thighs, sunglasses pushed low on his nose, jaw still sharp even in the golden hour haze. He looks over when he hears your name. 

You haven’t seen him in maybe six months. You’ve never really been friends, but you’ve always hovered in the same social circle. Occasionally at the same parties, invited to the same post - race get - togethers, orbiting each other without ever really connecting. 

But now he’s looking at you like he recognizes something new. 

He nods, subtle. Gives you a half - smile. “Didn’t know you were coming.” 

You shrug. “Didn’t know you were either.” 

“Good surprise, then.” 

You’re not sure how to respond to that - so you just smile, polite, and follow Luca further inside. 

Your room’s upstairs, small but bright. There’s a ceiling fan and a tiny ensuite and just enough room to dump your suitcase across the bed without tripping over it. You unpack slowly, letting the noise of everyone else filter up through the open window. Somewhere below, Lando laughs - low and lazy - and you feel it like a fingertip dragged down your spine. 

You should be immune to him by now. He’s Lando Norris. A walking thirst trap with dimples and the most unserious sense of humour known to man. But there’s something about here - the off - duty version, the sun - drenched version, the one who isn’t surrounded by engineers or cameras - that makes it feel… different. 

Less like a boy on posters, more like a man below your window, dipping his feet into the pool. 

You shake your head and change into something breezy: cotton shorts, a crop top. When you finally go back downstairs, the sun’s just beginning to dip below the treeline, casting long shadows across the pool deck. 

People are already drinking. Someone’s pulled the Bluetooth speaker out again. There are half a dozen towels draped across every surface. 

Lando’s still by the pool. This time, he’s in the water, arms resting on the ledge, talking to someone. His wet hair curls a little at the ends. His back is freckled from the sun. You shouldn’t be looking. You are. 

He glances up just as you sit down. 

You pretend not to notice. 

Later, when you’re carrying two Aperol's back to your lounge chair, someone bumps your arm on purpose - gently, just enough to make the glasses slosh. 

“Careful.” 

You turn. 

Lando again. 

He takes one of the drinks from you before you can say anything. 

“That was for me,” you lie. 

“Too slow,” he grins, and sips. 

You narrow your eyes. “Are you always this annoying, or is it just the heat?” 

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it.” He takes another sip, gaze drifting over your legs where you’re standing in the late - day sun. 

You cross your arms over your chest, aware of how the top you're wearing hugs tighter now that it’s clung to your sun - warmed skin. 

“Is this your game? Steal drinks and flirt with every girl who makes eye contact?” 

“Only the ones who used to ignore me at parties.” 

You blink. 

“I didn’t ignore you.” 

“You never said more than two words to me.” 

“I didn’t know you,” you protest weakly. 

He smirks. “You still don’t.” 

There’s something in the way he says it - open - ended, inviting. Like he’s offering a chance. 

You roll your eyes and sit down, forcing the tension in your jaw to loosen. “You’re trouble.” 

“I try.” 

He settles into the lounge chair next to yours, shoulder brushing yours briefly before he tilts his head back to the sun again. 

The rest of the evening blurs into the kind of contented, alcohol - soft haze you only get on the second night of a trip like this - just enough comfort to start relaxing, not yet enough routine to feel bored. 

Dinner’s grilled and eaten outside. Someone plays bartender and makes the drinks far too strong. You laugh more than you expect. Lando doesn’t hover, but every time you glance over, he’s already looking. 

You should go to bed early. 

You don’t. 

You stay long enough to watch him light sparklers with a lighter he shouldn’t have, teeth catching on the cap of another beer. Stay long enough to feel the way his laugh drags across your skin from halfway across the patio. Stay long enough to admit - to yourself, at least - that maybe this time, you do want to know him. 

By the time you’re back in your room, showered and curled up on the bed with your phone in one hand and your sleep playlist in the other, you’re warm from more than just the heat. 

The last thing you see before you shut your eyes is the faint blue light of a replay clip of Lando’s onboard from Monaco. You didn’t even mean to open it. But your vague connection the world of driving means that you, just like the drivers, are addicted to watching race replays like a lullaby. You let it loop anyway - quiet, steady - as you fall asleep in a hoodie you stole from a driver party two years ago. 

You barely remember that it’s his hoodie. 

It’s hotter the next day. The kind of heat that makes everything feel heavy - time, clothes, thoughts. 

You wake up in the late afternoon, the bed tangled with your sheets and limbs, your skin still warm from the residual heat of the day before. The villa is quieter now. Most people must already be outside, and when you crack your window open, you catch the sound of a speaker playing something bassy and upbeat, mixed with the distant splash of pool water and a few hollered laughs. 

You take your time getting ready, pulling on the only clean swimsuit you packed without thinking. It’s cute, functional enough - but maybe a little revealing. Maybe not what you’d wear if you didn’t know who else would be outside. Maybe it’s stupid how long you spend in front of the mirror tugging the straps into place. 

When you finally head downstairs, the sun hits you like a wall - too much too fast, and all of it golden. The pool glimmers. Someone’s set out snacks, there’s a melting bowl of fruit beside a stack of half - read paperback books, and a cooler full of drinks wedged under the shade. 

And of course - he’s there. 

Lando. 

Lying on a towel just at the edge of the pool. Board shorts low on his hips, eyes squinting up from behind his sunglasses. He’s propped up on one arm, lazily sipping something bright orange through a paper straw. He’s laughing at something someone’s saying off to the side, curls stuck to his forehead, skin flushed just enough to tell you he’s been out here a while. 

You try not to look. You fail. 

He notices. Doesn’t say anything - just tips his chin up in a sort of wordless greeting. 

You set your towel down two chairs away. Not beside him. Not directly across. Just… within view. 

“Someone’s late to the pool party,” he calls after a moment, voice lazy from the heat. 

“I needed sleep.” 

“You needed to make a dramatic entrance, you mean.” 

You roll your eyes but smile. “You think everything’s about you.” 

“Everything is about me,” he says, deadpan. 

You stretch out on your towel, trying not to notice the way his eyes drift down your legs, then flick quickly away again when you catch him. The air feels thicker than before - or maybe it’s just your skin, suddenly too aware of every inch of exposed surface. 

Fifteen minutes later, you’re already sweating. The sun beats down mercilessly, and you sit up, digging through your bag for your sunscreen. You squirt some into your palm and reach for your shoulder - and that’s when his shadow falls across you. 

“You’ll never reach your back,” he says casually. 

One minute Lily and Kika where beside you, the next they weren’t.  

You blink up at him, “Thanks for the concern.” 

He holds out a hand. “Give it here.” 

You hesitate. Then place the bottle in his hand, trying not to think about how broad his shoulders look from this angle. He kneels behind you on the towel, the lotion cools against your overheated skin. 

His touch is… careful. Gentle at first. He smooths the sunscreen between your shoulder blades with slow, deliberate strokes, his thumbs brushing the curve of your spine before dragging back up again, just before the thin tie of your bottoms. His hands are warm and wide, fingers pressing slightly harder with each pass, until you're leaning into the sensation without even realising. 

“This, okay?” he asks, voice low - not teasing anymore, just… close. 

You nod, barely trusting your voice. 

He doesn’t stop. Works the lotion into your shoulders, your neck, fingertips grazing the strap of your swimsuit before pulling back just shy of scandal. You feel your whole - body hum, strung tight like a wire. 

And then - just as suddenly - it’s over. 

“All good,” he says, voice a little rougher than before. 

You exhale. Try to swallow. 

“Thanks.” 

He shrugs, tossing the bottle back toward your bag. “Don’t want your burning. Would ruin your dramatic entrances.” 

You laugh, light but shaky. “Wouldn’t want that.” 

You stay in the shade for most of the afternoon, half - reading a book you can’t focus on. Every time Lando walks past - dripping wet from a dive, towel slung around his shoulders, alcohol bottle in one hand - your eyes follow him before you can stop them. 

You don’t talk again. Not properly. But there’s something shifting now. You feel it in the way he looks at you longer than he should. In the way your fingers brushed his wrist earlier when he handed you a strong cocktail and didn’t pull away. In the way you can still feel his hands on your skin, hours later. 

Something’s changed. 

And you’re not sure which one of you is going to do something about it first. 

You can’t sleep. 

The villa’s quiet now - except for the creak of floorboards, the occasional pipe knocking in the wall, and the soft echo of wind sliding through open windows. Everyone else is either passed out drunk or tangled up in someone else’s sheets. The hallways feel like a lull, soaked in summer and moonlight. 

You’re curled up in bed, too warm to get under the covers, wearing nothing but the old, oversized hoodie and a faint sunburn still blooming across your thighs. You didn’t mean to put this one on - it was just at the top of your bag. Familiar, soft, slightly too big. 

Lando’s hoodie. 

You don’t even think he knows you kept it. One of those late - night party things - he tossed it to you on a balcony and never asked for it back. 

You’re not planning to see him tonight. Not thinking about the way he touched your back earlier. Not thinking about how he looked at you like he wanted to touch more. 

Your phone’s propped up on a pillow, volume low, screen lit with one of his old Silverstone onboard replays. There’s something soothing about it. The smooth rhythm of the track, the flick of the steering wheel in his gloved hands. He’s in control. Sharp. Focused.  You wonder what it’s like to make him lose that focus. 

The door creaks open. 

You sit up fast, yanking your blanket over the bottom hem of your hoodie. “What the - ” 

“Shit - ” a familiar voice mutters. “Sorry. Fuck.” 

Lando. 

He’s shirtless, in just sweats, hair a little damp like he showered but didn’t bother to dry it. His eyes are slightly wide as he sees you, as if his brain’s still catching up with what he just walked into. 

“I thought this was - ” He looks over his shoulder. “That’s not - yeah, this is definitely not my room.” 

You should say something - ask why he’s even trying to come in when most people are already knocked out for the night. 

But his eyes are stuck on your hoodie.  His hoodie.  You’re half - curled up, one leg bare up to the thigh, the hem bunched at the top of them, collar slipped low enough to show your collarbones and just a hint of skin underneath. 

“You wear that often?” he asks, voice a little hoarse. 

Your heart kicks up, fast. 

“You gave it to me.” 

“Didn’t think you kept it.” 

You shrug, hoping your face doesn’t give too much away. “Didn’t think you wanted it back.” 

He steps further into the room - slow, quiet - until he’s leaning against the inside of your door and shutting it softly behind him. 

You look at him.  He looks at you. 

Then, finally, he speaks - quiet, but direct. 

“You’re not telling me to leave.” 

You swallow. 

“Do you want me to?” you ask. 

His voice is lower now. “No.” 

You shift on the bed, pulse starting to hammer in your ears. “Then don’t.” 

He stands there for a second longer, like he’s giving you a moment to change your mind. And then he’s walking forward. 

He stands at the edge of the bed, eyes dark in the low light. One hand lift - slow, deliberate - and pulls at the blanket until he brushes your knee from where it peeks from under the hoodie. 

“You look good in that,” Lando says, voice soft, hoarse. 

You smile, lips parted. “Thought you said it wasn’t yours.” 

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Was trying to stay sane.” 

“Why?” 

He leans in, fingers tracing up your thigh, grazing higher until your breath catches. “Because if I thought about you in this hoodie too long, I’d do something stupid.” 

Your hands fist into the sheets. “Like what?” 

“Like this.” 

He kisses you hard - not rushed, but urgent. Like he’s been waiting, wanting, and now that he has you, he’s not wasting a second. You meet him halfway, fingers threading through his damp curls, hoodie riding up over your hips as he shifts between your knees and deepens the kiss. 

His hands slide up your bare thighs, slow and reverent, thumbs dragging soft circles. You gasp into his mouth when one hand cups the back of your thigh, spreading you further apart so he can settle between them. 

“Still not telling me to leave,” he murmurs against your skin, lips trailing along your jaw. 

“I’d kick your ass if you tried.” 

The room is barely lit by the faint glow of the bedside lamp. Shadows drape the corners, but the air is thick with heat - your heat, his heat - heavy enough to make every breath feel sticky and urgent. 

Lando’s sitting on the edge of the bed, bare chest rising and falling slowly, muscles tense as he watches you. The oversized hoodie you’re wearing - his hoodie - hangs loosely, but every inch of skin you show feels like a dare. 

You flip over his lap to kneel in front of him, heart hammering hard against your ribs. His cock is already hard, proud and aching beneath the loose sweats he’s left hanging low on his hips. His breath catches when you reach out, your fingers warm as they close around him over the fabric. 

“You sure about this?” he asks, voice low and rough, eyes dark and hooded with want. 

You smile, cheeks flushed and lean in closer, tugging down his waistband, “You’re the one who walked into the wrong room.” 

His hands find your hair before you can even move - gentle but insistent, threading through your curls as you lean forward, mouth parting to tease the tip of him. He groans softly, air escaping through his clenched teeth, and you know this is going to be slow, deliberate. 

You take him into your mouth, starting light - teasing with your tongue, lips barely brushing the sensitive head. His fingers tighten in your hair, nails grazing your scalp, holding you in place even as you pull back, just enough to make him desperate. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he rasps, his hips pressing forward instinctively. 

You hum around him, licking a slow stripe from base to tip, sucking just enough to pull a deep moan from his throat. His hands tighten, gripping the sheets as you bob your head slowly, tasting him, swallowing every hitch of breath he makes. 

When you take him deeper, your throat tightens, the stretch delicious and thrilling. He gasps, hips jerking up just a little, and you feel it - the pulse of his arousal, steady and strong. You slow down, using your tongue to circle the head, flicking the underside with precision that sends shivers through him. 

“God, you’re so good,” he mutters, voice barely above a whisper. 

His free hand slips to your waist, pulling you up close, and you wrap your arms around his thighs, holding him steady. You want to hear everything - every ragged breath, every curse falling from his lips. 

The way his hips start to grind forward against your mouth, desperate for more. 

His fingers dig into your hair, tugging lightly, and you take it as permission to go deeper - slow, steady, careful. You feel his body tense, muscles flexing as he rides the wave you’re building, his breath hitching in ragged bursts. 

When his hips jerk sharply and he releases a low growl, you swallow him down fully, holding him there as long as you can. He curses your name, gripping your hair harder, and when he pulls away, his lips are swollen, breathless. 

You look up, cheeks flushed, and meet his eyes - glazed, heavy with want and need. 

Without a word, he reaches out and pulls you to your feet, hands on your waist firm and sure. His mouth is back on yours instantly, a kiss that’s both desperate and possessive, teeth grazing your lower lip as he pulls you backward onto the bed. 

His hands roam your body with purpose, sliding beneath the hem of the hoodie, fingers finding bare skin with reverent curiosity. You arch into his touch, heart pounding as he trails kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, whispering soft promises between each press of his lips. 

He moves with slow, sure confidence, pushing the hoodie up over your head and tossing it aside like it’s been burning him all night. 

“You’re all mine,” he breathes, voice thick. 

You shiver, overwhelmed by the warmth of his hands, the heat radiating off his body as he trails down your stomach, palms flat and sure. His fingers brush the waistband of your shorts, hesitating just a second before sliding beneath. 

Every nerve ending in your body sings as he removes your shorts and panties in one smooth motion, exposing you completely. 

He kisses the inside of your thigh, lips soft and warm, fingers tracing lazy circles around your hip bones. 

When he finally parts your legs, his eyes darken, focused, hungry. 

He leans in and presses a kiss to your clit, teasing with his tongue in long, slow flicks that make you bite back a moan. 

His mouth wraps around you, warm and wet and demanding, and you clutch his hair, hips rocking forward into him without thinking. 

“Shh,” he murmurs against you, voice low and serious. “Gotta keep it down.” 

You bite your lip, nodding, desperate to keep quiet but drowning in the sensation of his tongue and mouth working magic. He hums, flicks his tongue faster, and you feel the coil tightening deep inside you. 

His hand slides between your legs, fingers teasing your entrance, brushing just the tip before pulling back to focus on your clit again. 

You’re trembling, breath coming in short, desperate gasps, hands grasping at his shoulders as he pulls you closer. 

When you come, it’s a shattered, stifled cry buried in his neck, fingers digging into his scalp as your body clenches around his mouth. 

He holds you through it, slow and steady, until you’re shuddering and soft again. 

Then, gently, he pulls back and grins up at you - wild, messy, utterly undone. 

“You taste like everything I want.” 

You laugh breathlessly and push him down, straddling him as his hands settle on your hips. 

You take your time, rolling your hips, sinking down slowly, savouring every inch. 

His hands grip your waist tight as you ride him - slow, deep, unrelenting. 

The only sounds in the room are your gasps, his moans, and skin sliding against skin. 

You lean down, kissing him hard, teeth clashing, tongues tangling as you move together - a perfect, messy rhythm. 

When he’s close, you bite his shoulder, smile against his skin, and whisper, “Not so quiet now, huh?” 

He laughs low and growls, “I’m not gonna last much longer.” 

You pick up the pace, bouncing harder, nails gripping his chest as he buries his face in your neck, fingers clutching your hips. 

And when he comes, it’s explosive - deep, guttural, his body trembling beneath you as he spills inside you. 

You ride out the waves together, panting and slick, limbs tangled. 

When it’s over, he pulls you close, pressing kisses along your jaw and whispering, “That was worth walking into the wrong room.”

The morning spills into the room like warm honey. 

Golden light streaks across the sheets, catching on dust suspended in the still air. Outside the window, someone’s already put music on too loud - something distant and summery and muffled by the thick villa walls. But in here, it’s all quiet. 

You shift under the covers, muscles pleasantly sore, skin warm from where Lando’s body presses into yours. He’s still half - asleep, one arm flung over your stomach, curls mussed against the pillow. You breathe him in sunscreen and sweat, salt and something softer. Like linen and heat. 

His hand tightens slightly at your waist, thumb brushing absentmindedly against your hip bone. It’s the kind of touch that says he's still here, even in his sleep. 

You turn toward him, nose brushing his jaw. 

“Lando,” you whisper, low and quiet, just to see if he’s awake. 

Lando hums sleepily as you kiss his chin. “Mmm, you’re up early.” 

“Not really,” you mumble. “I think it’s nearly noon.” 

He groans. “We should hide. Stay in here all day.” 

You smile. “You drooled on my pillow.” 

He growls softly, burying his face in your neck. “Could be worse. Could’ve been your chest.” 

You laugh, legs tangling with his. “You’re disgusting.” 

“Last night you said I was talented.” 

“I said you were decent.” 

He grins sleepily against your skin, voice still thick. “You came twice. At least give me ‘skilled.’” 

You roll your eyes, trying not to smile too hard - but you’re glowing, skin flushed from more than just the heat. 

His hand slips lower, resting over the swell of your ass, fingers tracing lazy shapes again. You’re not doing anything, not going anywhere. It’s rare - to feel like this. Not just satisfied but settled. 

Until -  

“OH MY GOD.” 

The door slams open, and you flinch, instinctively yanking the blanket up to your chin. 

Lando groans so loudly it’s borderline feral. “No. Nope. Out.” 

Oscar is standing in the doorway, already in swim trunks and a bucket hat, holding a protein shake in one hand like a fucking trophy. Squinting into the light like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. 

“I KNEW IT,” he yells, pointing at you both. “Fifty bucks, bitches!” 

You blink, dazed. “What - ?” 

“I told Lily it would happen before the weekend was over,” Oscar continues, stepping just one inch further into the room like he’s inspecting evidence. “She said you’d pussy out. Guess who was right.” 

You blink. “Wait, you two - bet on us?” 

Oscar shrugs. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And then you started wearing that hoodie again. It was obvious.” 

Lando rolls over and shoves a pillow over his head. “Oscar I swear to God - ” 

“Hey, don’t blame me, you could’ve been subtle. But noooo, you had to be all hoodie and eye fucking by the pool.” 

You groan. “How long were people watching us?” 

Oscar snorts. “We have eyes.“ 

“Congrats, by the way,” he says, like he’s handing out a wedding gift. It’s when he sips at his gym bottle and hisses, you realise there’s probably tequila in there, “Try not to traumatize the maid staff.” 

And then he’s gone. 

The door clicks shut again. 

Silence. 

You both stare at the ceiling for a second before bursting into laughter. 

Lando turns toward you, dragging you under him again, smirking like an idiot. “We are never living this down” 

“I kinda don’t care” 

He hums, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You gonna wear that hoodie again?” 

You grin. “Only if I want everyone to know what I let you do to me last night.” 

He pauses. Smirks. 

“Bold of you to assume I’m not wearing it next.” 

You shove him lightly, laughing, as he tackles you back into the sheets, messy and warm and unbothered - a little wrecked, a little teased, and a whole lot in trouble. 

But somehow, it feels kind of perfect. 

meet the models after the show ( epilogue ) :

It’s the last morning at the villa. 

People are packing. Doors opening, zippers skimming across tile. Half - melted iced coffees line the kitchen counter, and someone’s already yelling about who stole their charger. 

You’re still in Lando’s bed. 

Still in his hoodie. 

Still not ready to move. 

He walks back into the room with two mugs in hand - both his. One is basic ceramic with your initials scratched in red nail polish. The other says World’s Fastest Slut in hideous bubble font. 

He doesn’t even flinch when he hands you that one. 

“You’re really still wearing that thing?” he says, nodding to the hoodie swallowing your frame. 

You raise an eyebrow and sip your coffee. “You say that like you weren’t staring every time I wore it.” 

He shrugs, dropping onto the bed beside you. “Just surprised you never took it off.” 

You smirk. “Why would I? It’s comfy. Smells good. Annoys Oscar.” 

“Ah,” he nods, mock serious. “You stayed in my hoodie out of spite.” 

You hum. “Mostly. Partially because it makes my legs look good.” 

His gaze drags down. “Can confirm.” 

You blink. “You gonna tell Oscar that ?” 

“Absolutely not. He’s been insufferable since he ‘won’ a bet that didn’t exist.” 

You laugh, and he leans forward, catching your chin gently with his fingers. You try not to smile, but he leans forward and nudges your knee with his. 

“You’re still coming back to mine after this, right?” he asks, casual, but his tone softens halfway through. 

You blink. “Did I say I was?” 

He gives you that look - head tilted, lashes low, mouth twitching like he’s holding back something cocky. “You didn’t have to.” 

You take another slow sip of coffee. “Hmm. That so?” 

He leans in closer, fingers brushing the hem of the hoodie as he murmurs, “Only condition is… if you keep stealing my clothes, I get to start stealing your time.” 

You snort. “That was corny as hell.” 

“Did it work?” 

You meet his eyes, and yeah - it did. 

You set the mug down and pull him toward you, letting him kiss you slow, like the world isn’t about to start moving again. His hand curls over your thigh, his smile warm against your lips. 

When he pulls back, you sigh into his shoulder. “Okay. Fine. I’ll come back with you.” 

“Knew it,” he says smugly. 

“On one condition,” you add. 

He raises a brow. 

“I keep the hoodie.” 

Lando grins, eyes half - lidded. “Deal.” 

You settle back into the bed, sun rising behind you, the sound of car engines and goodbyes faint in the background. But here, it’s just him. You. And the hoodie you’re never giving back. 

[redeemingvillains]

with one glance - mattheo riddle

summary: a picture's worth a thousand words, and just one manages to say everything you've desperately tried to keep hidden from mattheo.

word count: 4k

a/n: fluff, fluffy, fluffiest, fluff fluff. i'm giggling over it! 🌻

“I did it! I passed!” Pansy shouted as she burst through the common room door.

Mattheo’s eyes tracked her as she marched over to the couches and plopped the folder in her hand on the table in front of him with a flourish.

“And not just passed, top marks!” she said smugly.

He rolled his eyes at her as she spun on her heels and pranced towards the girls dormitory.

“I’m going to tell YN! Drinks on me tonight!” she shouted, her voice echoing as it faded down the stone hallway.

He focused his attention back on the book in his lap, but then his eye caught the folder on the table, and the corners of the pictures that stuck out from it, and his leg began to bounce as his fingers fiddled with the corner of the page he was on.

He glanced back to make sure Pansy was gone.

And then he reached for the folder.

❀ Two weeks earlier ❀

Rain pattered against the windowpanes in the library as you sighed and turned the page of your history of magic textbook, taking a large sip of your coffee. Across from you Pansy’s head lulled in her propped-up hand before she finally surrendered, laying her head on her equally large muggle studies tome.

“If I don’t find something to do my end of term project on I’m going to fail and I am not retaking this class; I don’t even know why we have to study muggles, I mean really…” she said, her voice muffled by the pages.

Theo and Mattheo laughed quietly on either side of you and you smiled at her as she picked her head back up and began flipping through the pages again.

A few moments passed and you refocused your attention, the sound around you dulled to murmurs, the quiet turning of pages, the pattering rain, and the scratch of Mattheo’s quill.

“Ok wait, that’s adorable” Pansy laughed, something between mocking and sincerity in her expression as your eyes flickered up, sure that at this rate you wouldn’t get any studying done.

“What?” you appeased her.

“This chapter’s all about weddings and such and, look, they have this cute little concept of taking pictures for their betrothal– engagement, whatever they call it.”

She turned her book and your eyes skated over a myriad of pictures of couples who were clearly hopelessly in love, ogling over each other, here at the beach, there in a field of flowers.

“That’s sweet” you acknowledged, smiling.

Theo leaned over and let out an unsatisfied grunt.

Mattheo’s attention didn’t waiver from his homework but Lorenzo leaned over him, craning to see.

“What’s the point?” he asked. “Sitting there staring at each other when you’ll take a thousand pictures at the wedding anyway? Their pictures don’t even move.”

You looked up in time to see Pansy roll her eyes before she glanced back down at the page, fingers tracing it and you could see a familiar glint in her eye.

“That’s what I’ll do, I’ll do a little engagement photoshoot. I love photography anyway, it makes sense.”

You nodded assuredly, thinking of the prints that littered the walls of your dorm, of each other, of your friends; your mind wandered to your favorite, intentionally plastered amidst the rest so as not to stand out, of the dark haired boy beside you, your best friend, his curls ruffled as he smiled wide and then stuck his tongue out, a loop you spent more time than you cared to admit staring at.

You smiled thinking about it and willed yourself not to look at him as your cheeks flushed, betraying you.

“So, you’ll help me?”

“Hmm?” you hummed.

“You’ll help? You’ll do it with me?”

“I’m neither engaged nor a muggle, Pansy.”

“No but you’d be sooo perfect, please? And we’ll get someone to do it with you, obviously—"

“—Stare into her eyes in a field of flowers? Steal a sneaky kiss?” Lorenzo said, his hand shooting in the air. “My weekend’s free.”

You laughed and Mattheo’s attention was dragged from his parchment as he sat back and stared at Lorenzo.

“What?” Lorenzo said defensively at his dark gaze. “Surely you’re not going to do it?”

Mattheo’s eyes narrowed.

“Your whole aura doesn’t really give ‘prancing through the flowers’, mate.”

“And yours does?” Theo clarified.

Lorenzo sat back and gestured at himself in defense like the response was obvious.

“I was made for the camera.”

The two of them continued to bicker in whispers back and forth as you watched them and tried to contain your laughter.

“I’ll do it” Mattheo said, just loud enough to be heard over them.

Your head turned quickly to him in surprise.

Lorenzo wasn’t wrong. Mattheo was more than a little stoic, a bit of a closed book, but it was one of your favorite things about him, because you knew when he laughed, when he smiled, when he let his guard down around you, it really meant something.

Pansy glanced to you and him and back again, her smile growing wider.

“Perfect!” she said enthusiastically.

“Don’t come crying to me when you have a roll full of scowls” Lorenzo muttered.

That Saturday you woke to an idyllic late spring morning. The storms had cleared to welcome a perfect blue sky and even though you were tingling with nerves you couldn’t deny your excitement. You dressed in a simple white sundress, let your hair fall naturally and added just a touch of makeup; Pansy had wanted to lean into the whole outdoorsy theme, so you opted to keep things simple.

You wandered outside and just past greenhouse you could see two figures at edge of a large field of wildflowers near the forest and ran to catch up with them.

“Hi! Sorry! I’m here!” you said, a bit flustered.

“No worries!” Pansy said, and she continued talking, but you’d caught Mattheo’s eye as he turned to face you and his face broke into a smile that you knew all too well to be genuine happiness as his eyes traced you.

You smiled back as you looked up at him, appreciating the way his white top clung to his arms, the way the sun was glinting off his chestnut hair, averting your gaze quickly when you felt a familiar heat creeping in your cheeks. When did you think having a fake romantic photoshoot with the friend you were unfailingly in love was a good idea?

“…So yeah just go on then” Pansy said as she gestured to the field and then began fiddling with her muggle camera.

You both looked back at her, your bewilderment clear.

“Gonna need a bit more than that, Pans” Mattheo clarified, his voice scratchy in an early-morning way that had your toes curling in the long grass.

She glanced up and sighed, placing a hand on her hip.

“Just take her hand and walk” she instructed, shooing you off.

He looked back at you, eyebrows raised, and reached out his palm. You placed yours in his warm grasp and fell into step with him as he began to walk into the field.

But you didn’t make it three steps.

“You’re meant to be getting married, can you please intertwine your fingers, Riddle, and get a little closer” Pansy yelled.

His hand shifted without pause as he wrapped his fingers in yours, squeezing tightly as he gently pulled you into his side.

“So bossy” he muttered and you laughed, the moment breaking the intense nerves you’d had that you sensed he could feel as he squeezed your hand again.

“Alright, stop there, turn and face each other” Pansy instructed from a distance.

Your feet slowed hesitantly and you could hear the snap snap snap of her camera as you turned to face him and felt like your whole body was your heartbeat, like you could feel your nerves in the tips of your fingers as you looked up at him. He reached for your other hand, holding them both. You glanced down at the gesture before looking up at him and he winked, causing you to smile, to laugh again.

“Hey” he said quietly as your eyes met his. “I know there are loads of guys out there, but try to act a little happy you’re marrying me. For Pansy’s sake” he joked and your eyes grew wide at that.

“I’m not – I’m happy!” you said, unable to articulate why you were so nervous, realizing it was coming across as something else entirely.

“Why don’t we do a couple sitting then?” Pansy said.

“So artsy” you replied, turning to her.

She pointed adamantly.

“Ok! Ok!” you said, dropping down, your dress fanning you as Mattheo sat beside you.

“Closer.”

You sighed and scooched closer, terrified to meet his eyes again.

“Just go ahead and talk to each other or something.”

Mattheo seemed completely at ease and didn’t seem to have any problem staring at you and you felt like he could see through your soul.

Finally, you met his eye, gathering yourself.

“Why’d you agree to do this?” you asked quietly as the camera clicked, releasing the question that has been on your mind since he’d volunteered.

Because I wouldn’t dare let anyone else do this with you, he thought.

He shrugged.

“No plans.”

You pushed his chest playfully and he grasped your hand.

“Perfect! So cute!” Pansy said.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t an act.

Mattheo leaned in and you stopped breathing altogether, certain he was going to kiss you, but then he reached for a wildflower, plucking it before looking back at you and thoughtfully tucking it behind your ear.

“Swoon!” you heard Pansy mutter, her camera clicking away.

“Smooth, Riddle” you said, your voice wobbly as his hand lingered against your cheek.

He didn’t have the heart to tell you it wasn’t an act.

“Alright, don’t kill me—” Pansy said, her voice dragging you away from the look in his eyes, and the feeling of his fingers against your cheek.

“—But is there a way you could like—" she motioned her hands like she wanted you to get closer. Short of crawling into his lap, closer wasn’t an option. You looked up at her, an eyebrow arched.

“Pans?”

“Maybe just make it look like, you know, like you’re going to kiss her, but if I stand here,” she said, moving away from the sun and kneeling down, “we can just make it look that way.”

Both of you paused, looking at her.

“Pleeaasee? I’ll be forever grateful.”

You turned to see him already looking at you.

“We don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable—”

“—It’s fine” you said, probably far too quickly. His lip twitched in a grin.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

It seemed an odd question, but you nodded, of course you did.

In a moment he reached for your hips and pulled you on top of him, the weight of you nearly toppling him over as your arms wound around his neck and his wound around you, holding you steady to him.

Pansy’s camera went wild like it was trying to keep in time with your pulse as you settled on his lap. You could feel his warm breath, his lips inches, centimeters from yours. He moved and pressed his forehead to yours and Pansy had some incredibly happy comment about it, but the world and all of your senses were reduced to just you and him, to how tightly he was holding you, to the smell of his cologne, mixed with wildflowers, like evergreen and summer, to the smell of the winterfresh gum that he favored and the look in his eyes, an unfailing sincerity there that had been there all morning, that was reducing you to a puddle. And then he smiled, the same smile in the polaroid that hung next to your bed, the same one you fell asleep looking at and woke up to every morning…

“Now she’s happy” he whispered, and you realized you were wearing a huge smile of your own.

A heartbeat, two.

Your hands moved to hold his face, to steady yourself, and you knew you couldn’t stay here a second longer without kissing him. But you also knew that kissing him would betray three years of friendship, and feelings that, if not voiced by now, clearly were not reciprocated.

His hand ran up your back and you felt him pull you against him and all you could think was how well he was selling it.

“Matty” you whispered, a plea, a beg, unsure whether you were begging him to keep going or to stop, though you were sure you’d never wanted anything more than this.

“M’gonna kiss you” he said finally.

He said hastily, leaving no time for a reply and then he was pulling you into him fully, his lips drawing yours to his and you couldn’t help the way your body relaxed and sank into him, the way your fingers threaded into his hair, the way you let out a tiny noise you’d never made before as his lips moved over yours like you’d done it all your life, unable to understand how this was the least nervous you’d been all day, because it felt right.

You kissed him back with the passion of three years of thinking about it, not leaving a single thing on the table, because there’d never be another moment to parade it like this again as you wound your tongue into his mouth, flicked his and his grip on your waist felt bruising in reply before he pulled away, fast.

“Fucking fuck” he hissed, holding you at a distance from him as he tried to catch his breath.

“S-sorry!” you replied, trying to catch your breath, to clear your clouded mind, hazy with him as you touched your fingers to your lips, already swollen from his kiss.

“No, do not, don’t apologize—"

Pansy cleared her throat.

And you both turned to see her not even bothering to point the camera, her face gobsmacked.

“Think I got what I need, then.”

“Right!” you said, shifting as Mattheo reluctantly helped you off his lap and you both stood and walked to meet her.

He casually intertwined his fingers in yours, and you held his hand tightly without realizing it. You didn’t let go until you entered the castle.

By the time you were back to the common room, the façade of the morning fell, and with it came a wave of uncertainty, of regret.

Mattheo slid onto the couch with your friends and you made your way, head down, to your room as Pansy followed quickly after you.

She was unusually quiet as she set her camera down and sank into her chair, watching you as you moved about the room, fussing, folding laundry, tying your hair up only to let it down again.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly.

Your movements faltered and you sighed.

“M’fine” you said quietly.

���That was …”

“Yeah. Well... I hope you do really well on your project.”

She knew you were being genuine, she knew you meant it, and that made her feel even worse than she already did, because even though you'd never voiced it, she knew exactly how much Mattheo meant to you.

“It looked real, YN. I mean the way he was looking at you all morning” she tried, reaching for her camera.

You shook your head.

“I don’t – it’s not like that” you said, shaking your head as she offered the camera to you. “Please. He was doing us a favor, plain as.”

You moved to bathroom and closed the door, and Pansy stared at the camera, flipping through the pictures for a long time.

Mattheo lay in bed that night and all he could think was how fucking stupid he’d been.

The second you’d come back to the common room you’d been off, and the rest of the day you’d kept him at an arms’ length. He’d pushed way too far when he kissed you, and clearly it’d made you uncomfortable.

… But the way you looked at him… The feeling of the warmth of your body against him, your fingers in his hair, the way you’d whispered his name…. he’d thought…

It didn’t matter.

Clearly he’d read the signs all wrong. And even that perfect fucking kiss wasn’t worth it because now you wouldn’t even look at him. He shoved his head in his pillow and groaned.

❀ Present ❀

Mattheo had been reading and re-reading the same sentence when Pansy burst into the common room, going on about her project.

He hadn’t forgotten about it, couldn’t forget the way you’d looked surrounded by that field of flowers in your white dress. It shouldn’t have done to him what it did but for the life of him he couldn’t stop thinking about it, the way you’d looked at him, the way the wind rustled your hair, the soft cotton of your dress, the feeling of your fingers in his, your weight in his lap, your fingers in his hair, your tongue... it plagued him. But he had forgotten completely about Pansy, about the project, about the pictures.

So when she left he reached for the folder with eager hands and six polaroids fell out alongside a scrap of parchment.

He flipped the pictures over and his heart stilled to a muffled beat.

The photos didn’t move, but in a way it made them more ethereal, like you were frozen in time, like had a piece of you, a moment that would never be the same again.

Him, with his fingers in your hair, tucking a flower there, how you’d teased him that it was for show, when it so clearly wasn’t.

Your tangled hands.

You in the summer sun glowing like a fucking angel. He refused to put that one back, holding it close to his chest instead.

Two others caught his eye. One of him, alone, clearly listening to something you were saying off camera, he stared at it and realized he looked like a lovesick puppy, like just how down bad he was might well have been written across his forehead. Am I that obvious? he thought.

But the last one.

It was one he didn’t even remember taking, both of you hand in hand, his back was to the camera but your expression was clear, you were glowing, you were looking at him like he hung the damn moon and stars, your eyes sparkled, and he loved it. He loved you he thought.

He looked back and forth between your expression and his and he replayed how you’d looked that day in his mind.

Why’d you agree to do this? you’d asked, like you didn’t already know.

Smooth, Riddle you’d said, begging him to tell you it wasn’t an act, though he couldn't find the words to.

And it was like he was solving a puzzle he’d been working on for three years; all the times you’d shied away from his gaze, the times you’d turned down dates with other guys or laid your head on his shoulder, it was always exactly what he’d thought it was, exactly what he wanted it to be.

He reached for the piece of parchment then, eyes scanning it quickly as he smiled, grabbing it alongside the polaroids before following quickly in Pansy’s footsteps.

Your door was open and he could hear your voices echoing as he moved to stand in the doorframe. You were seated cross-legged on your bed, textbooks open in front of you as Pansy chatted to you, walking around the room.

You looked up at him, surprise evident on your face; you’d been keeping your distance and until now he’d been respecting it.

“Oh” you said simply.

Pansy turned to see him, glancing at the messy bundle of pictures in his hands, and the expression on his face as he stared wide eyed at her best friend.

“Ha, yup, I’ll give you two a minute” she said as she brushed by him.

“Pans!” you whispered after her as you scrambled to your feet.

“Can I talk to you, please?” he asked.

“…Sure” you said hesitantly, not meeting his gaze as you leaned against your bed, eyes darting to your feet, unsure if you could ever look in his eyes again and see anything but his expression after you’d kissed, something you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life chasing.

He rubbed the back of his head and looked down at the pictures in his hands.

“Remember when you asked me why I offered to do Pansy’s project with you?”

Your eyes flitted up as his chosen topic of conversation.

“Yeah” you said quietly.

“Well – it’s… I thought – when she said – I mean for the longest time I…” he muttered. “Fucking hell. Here” he said, moving to your bed and dumping the polaroids there.

You glanced up at him before focusing your attention on the pictures.

You pulled one then another towards you, turning them so you could see them, analyzing them quietly, your fingers tracing over the frames, and stopping to rest on the one of you looking at him, the same one that had told him everything he needed to know, the answer to every question he’d asked himself for years clear on your face.

Your cheeks heated. Gods I look smitten, you thought and you felt your whole body blush.

In response he pulled the one of him next to it, the one where he was looking off camera at you, totally and completely enthralled and you bit your lip to keep from crying because you still weren’t sure what he was trying to say. We’re really good actors? Something more? And then he pulled the piece of parchment out of his pocket and spread it next to them. It was a note from Pansy’s professor.

Excellent, Pansy. Your talent with the camera is exceptional and you captured the essence of this milestone moment clearly. These two? They remind me of Mihri Hatun, ‘At one glance I loved you with a thousand hearts’. Beautiful!

You read the words and you felt a tingle throughout your body as the small hairs on your arm stood at attention and you looked up at him again.

“At first, I offered to do it because I didn’t like the idea of Enzo drooling all over you. But, selfishly? I wanted to know what it’d feel like, to pretend, for a while, that I could be something more than a friend to you, that you could look at me that way. But…” he looked back at the picture of you, “you kinda are looking at me that way. And Merlin, if you could put ‘down bad loverboy on a poster that picture of me would be it.’

You laughed despite the sincerity of the moment.

“And that kiss, I didn’t mean– didn’t intend for it to be like that… but you kinda kissed me like you didn’t mind…”

“I didn’t. I don’t. I didn’t think—” You tried to form a coherent thought but couldn’t as your eyes drifted back down to the picture of him looking at you, feeling the way it permeated you, warmed you.

He reached for your other hand, tangling your fingers in his. And he tugged, emboldened now by what he knew as he reached a hand to cup your face and then dipped his head, pausing for a second, maybe just to be 100% sure that this was what you wanted as his lips ghosted yours.

You tiptoed yourself to him, pressing your lips to his. His arms encircled you eagerly and lifted you up to him as you wound your legs around his waist and you smiled and laughed against his lips.

“I’ve been looking at you like that for the last three years, YN. M’glad you finally noticed.”

taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @loverliner @smut-anarchy @locknco @wybieivy @itznotsophia @cipheress-to-k-pop @aur0ral1ghts @revesephemeres

[corrodedheartsclub]

I’m Dumb She’s a Lesbian

Steddie. Modern au. Getting together. Platonic Stobin. 1685 words.

Steve’s used to people mistaking him and Robin as a couple. Unfortunately, he’s not used to Eddie’s form of problem solving.

After trying to explain to Eddie, without success, that him and Robin are purely platonic, he mistakenly admits that he did have a crush on her briefly, but once he knew it was never going to happen, they’ve become best friend. Platonic soulmates even.

“It’s honestly so for the best, Eddie. We weren’t meant to be a couple. We’re like cosmically linked on a whole other level.” Ok, Steve might be a little high, but he really believe him and Robin are meant to be in the most platonic way possible. He’s laying on Eddie’s bed, the joint their sharing nearly gone, and he can’t help the goofy smile that splits across his face. “Eddie, you know… I actually-”

“You guys are perfect together though! You’re always together, laughing and leaning on each other. How could there be no chance?” Eddie laments.

Steve shakes his head and groans, turning his face into the sheet. Eddie was hopeless.

“You’ve just gotta find the right timing.” Eddie doesn’t understand a world where anyone would shoot down this newly evolved Harrington. He’s perfect, and if Eddie can’t have him, he’ll make it his personal mission to get Steve and Robin together.

Steve’s watching him, wondering what the heck is going on in that head of his. Eddie was a mystery to him.

-

Kicking off his plan, Eddie starts by asking them to go to the movies, only to bail at the last minute. “I completely forgot I promised Wayne I’d help him work on the truck. I’m the worst, but no you guys should still go! Enjoy the movie!” He urges them on.

They sit through a cheesy romcom, and by five minutes in, they’re both questioning Eddie’s choice in movies. Never mind that Steve did end up really like it.

“That was weird, right?” Robin questions as they leave the theater.

“Which part?” Steve was finishing the last of his candy by turning over the box. He looks over at her, a mouthful of sour gummy worms.

Robin laughs, “You look like a creature.”

Steve crosses his eyes and laughs.

She’s shaking her head. “Eddie. He’s being weird. Did you notice anything last night when you guys were hanging out?”

“Mostly that he’s gorgeous and still completely oblivious every time I try to tell him how I feel,” Steve grumbles. “Plus, he’s so convinced we should be dating.”

“We? Like, you and I?” Robin mock gags, but then she jumps and smacks Steve’s arm. “That’s it!”

“Ow what the fuck, Buckley? What’s it?”

“He’s trying to parent trap us!”

Steve looks skeptical, but he starts connecting the dots in his head. He gaps. “Oh fuck.”

“Ok, we’ve just gotta sit him down and tell him we’re not together.”

“You could just tell him you’re gay and have a girlfriend. That would probably kill this idea that we belong together. I mean, he’s gay, so you shouldn’t have to worry about him?” Steve suggests.

“I’m just not ready to scream it from the rooftops. Plus, Vickie’s in the closet too, and I don’t want our time together being put under a microscope and risk outing her before she’s ready. I know I can trust Eddie to be supportive, but he’s so loud and proud and though I love that about him, I worry he’d let it slip on accident.”

Steve understands. Eddie is bold and outgoing, and it’s all wonderful. It’s just not what Robin needs right now. He agrees they just need to sit him down and set the record straight.

-

Steve leans against the counter at Family Video. The day’s been painfully slow so far, and he finds himself slow-blinking at the door, dozing off against his better judgment.

The door chimes and shocks him awake. He’s greeted by Dustin dumping a pile of returns in front of him. “Good morning,” he teases.

He rolls his eyes and groans at him. “You watch too many movies.” He yawns through Dustin’s offended scoff.

“Did you just go to the movies last night? Hypocrite!” Dustin defends.

Steve shoots him a look. “How do you know that? Stalking me, kid?”

“I was picking up character sheets from Eddie. He had some extras and I’m prepping for our next campaign. He said you and Robin were out watching a romcom. Are you guys finally dating?”

Steve lets out a small chuckle. “Ah, the man of the hour. No, we’re not dating, and we’ll never be dating. Eddie’s just trying to make something happen. Nosy little shits, the lot of you.”

Dustin looks skeptical. “Why would Eddie want you and Robin together? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re the one that just asked if we’re finally dating, and now you’re flipping the script. Who’s the hypocrite now?” Steve is scanning in the movies and shaking his head.

“I just mean that Eddie wouldn’t want you guys together because he’s totally into you,” Dustin says it like an obvious fact. “He’s always so whiny about it.”

Steve freezes. “What?”

The kid’s eyes widen as he realizes his overstep. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Steve’s already reaching for the phone. He punches in Robin’s number and points at Dustin while it rings. “You shouldn’t have. We’re going to talk later about not blabbing other people’s secrets. For now- scram.”

Dustin has the hindsight to look remorseful.

Robin answers with a theatric sigh. “Are you so hopeless without me that you must call on my day off?”

“Change of plans. I’m going to catch Eddie in his own trap, and you’re going to help.”

-

It’s all going according to plan. Steve and Robin find that it’s pretty easy to give Eddie the slip on his attempts.

Eddie tries to get Robin and Steve on a romantic date? Oh no, Robin’s got a family emergency. Eddie, you should stay so Steve isn’t all alone.

Lined up for Robin and Steve have to ride the ferris wheel together? Whoops, Robin remembers she’s afraid of heights at the front of the line, quick Eddie switch with her so Steve didn’t wait in this line for nothing.

Eddie sent flowers to Robin at family video with a card that says from Steve. Shame that the order got mixed up, and they went to Steve instead. Oh, but look how Steve blushes at the delivery.

The duo is feeling pretty good about their plan, but Eddie is losing his mind. Instead of fixing his crush, he’s fallen harder than ever. Every time he thinks he’s set the perfect trap, it twists around, and he finds himself spending more time with Steve. He’s not complaining necessarily. Any time alone with Steve makes his heart pound in his chest, but if he can’t have this perfect guy, he’s set on getting him the girl of his dreams.

Alternatively, Robin is starting to find it more and more difficult to explain to Vickie why she’s playing a game of set-up chicken with her friends.

Robin decides it’s time to end Eddie’s misery.

Her and Steve plan an elaborate picnic out at skull rock. There’s a big blanket, tons of pillows, and the most classic picnic basket you’ve ever seen.

Steve is pacing at the tree line. He needs this to go well. His crush had settled deep in his chest, and Steve was sure it was love. He didn’t want to play games with Eddie. It was time for everyone to clear the air and be direct with their feelings, but he couldn’t help the nerves that made him question everything. What if Eddie didn’t like him? Maybe he really did think Steve and Robin belonged together.

He tries to clear his mind. Robin was telling Eddie to come meet him here right about now. He should be here soon. Steve fiddles with his hair, trying to quell the anxiety.

When Eddie finally makes his way through the woods, Steve isn’t sure how to greet him.

Eddie’s surprised at the setup, and he immediately tries to rationalize it before Steve can get a word out. “Did you mean for me to come here? Buckley said you were looking for me, but I can go get her? Or do you need help setting up… I’m not sure you can do much else. It looks perfect.”

Steve is dumbfounded at Eddie’s ability to completely misread his intent, once again.

“No, Eddie, I meant for you to be here. This is for you.” He tries to speak clearly, leaving no room for confusion.

Eddie looks utterly confused. “For me?”

Steve can’t help his fond smile. “Yes, dummy. You. If you can stop trying to set me up with my best friend for a minute, I’ve been trying to ask you out for a while now.”

The man is gaping at him. “No. You’re not serious.”

He groans and tosses his hands up. “Eddie, what do I have to do to convince you?” Steve stares at him for a moment before he gets a bright idea. He stands up straight, walks up to Eddie in two long strides, grabs his face, and kisses him.

Eddie lets out a surprised noise before grabbing at Steve’s arms, waist, hair, anything for purchase to pull him closer.

Steve parts, pressing their foreheads together and keeping Eddie close. Eddie whines softly before looking back at Steve, trying to understand it all.

“I just wanted you to be happy. I didn’t think- I had no idea this was an option. Even if it couldn’t be with me, I just knew you deserved all the happiness,” the words spill out as Eddie reaches up to touch Steve’s face gently, tracing along his jaw reverently.

“I’m in love with you. I tried to get the words out so many times, but I was so nervous for how you’d react.” Steve leans into the touch.

Eddie’s breath hitches. “I love you too.”

-

Later, Robin introduces Eddie to her girlfriend, and he spends the rest of the afternoon apologizing for his schemes.

[ptergwen]

saw the post for ideas 👀… yknow those vlogs peter would film in homecoming? what if the only exception in strange’s spell was to let him keep a copy of those films of you and him/memories of the team. he rewatches them when he needs to feel like someone is there with him eating dinner, on holidays, a rough night of patrol, etc :(

always belong to you ❤︎‬

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w/c: 2.0k

warnings: suggestive jokes, doctor strange being a bully, angst

a/n: ugh you know i love an angst/fluff combo, i lowkey got carried away if you can't tell by the word count lmao but i think y'all will like :) p.s. i have more things brewing so stay tuned!

"ok, so, we just got on the plane. we're taking off in... i don't know, soon."

the camera pans to you half asleep on peter's shoulder. you hide your face in your boyfriend's flannel, grinning nevertheless. "y/n's tired. it's early," peter tells the camera. "but i'm excited," you mumble. he beams and hugs you to his side. "me too. we all are."

you wrap your arms around peter's bicep and rest your chin on his shoulder. "so, where are you the most excited to go? london, right?" peter looks over at you, his hand rubbing up and down your side. "mhm. what about you, venice?" you ask him.

"definitely venice. i’ve been practicing my italian," peter says. you move closer to the camera so you can talk into it. "yeah, he actually learned some italian. and french, for when we go to paris." you smile sleepily. "city of love," peter adds. you peck his lips, and he smiles against yours.

you never actually made it to paris. god, that whole trip was a disaster. it's a miracle his camera even survived it, since most of his stuff literally got blown up. your plans kept getting changed, and peter barely got to spend any time with you or his friends because he got dragged into doing spider-man stuff, spider-man stuff that put everybody in danger.

but it's not spider-man's fault that he lost you — it's peter parker's.

"you've been practicing your british accent. that's something," peter jokes. "oh yeah, true. i also learned british slang. i wanna be cultured like you, innit?" you do an over-exaggerated accent, which peter chuckles at. "c'mon, i never even leave new york. except germany that one time, and..." he lowers his voice. "space."

"what are you doing?" mj pops up behind peter. her, ned, and betty are in the row behind yours. you got stuck next to flash, who's been snapping at one of the flight attendants for something. "just making video diaries of the trip," peter explains. "ooh, aren't those for may?" ned enthusiastically asks from the aisle seat. "hi, may! everybody say hi to peter's aunt!"

"hi, peter's aunt!" betty waves. "sup, aunt milf," flash chimes in. peter clenches his jaw. "hi, may. your nephew woke me up," mj deadpans. she manages a smile. "i don't know how i’m gonna get any sleep around the lovebirds."

"i'm gonna sleep, too. i'm still kinda tired," you tell mj through a yawn, squeezing peter's bicep. "you should try to sleep, darling. there's gonna be a pretty big time difference when we land." you lay your head on peter's shoulder again with a smile that he returns even bigger.

"okay, i will. don't wanna be jet lagged," peter agrees, turning the camera to himself. "well, that's it for now, may. love you! see you when we land!"

"bye, may!" you echo, peter resting his head against yours as the video ends.

you were both so happy back then. now, you don't even remember who peter is. all he has left of you is memories, ironically enough. it's all he has left of any of his loved ones. may is gone, his only family. his best friends have no memory of him, and neither does his team.

but if peter had just thought things through before he asked doctor strange to cast that spell, he wouldn't have needed to cast a second one, and the world wouldn't have forgotten peter parker.

peter wishes he could make you remember him on nights like these, when he's missing you extra. he'd kept to himself all day in his classes — he doesn't really engage with anyone unless he's in the suit. patrol was quiet tonight, though. so as peter lays on his creaky bed at the end of the day, all by himself in his cramped apartment, he's never felt more lonely.

he thought it might make him feel better to watch some of his old videos. his camera is one of the only things he'd kept from before, and it has videos with everyone on it. he watches them sometimes so he can hear your voice, see your face.

"peter! you look so cute in your little lab coat," you say behind the camera. "babe, you can't call me cute in here," peter groans. you zoom in on him setting up some test tubes. "yeah, you think you're so tough cause you're an avenger. spider-man can't be cute, he's too big and scary," you tease.

"maybe not scary, but he's big for sure." peter smirks at the camera. "i can confirm," you smirk at him. peter's eyes widen. "woah, y/n. i meant, like, my arms. you're so unprofessional today, i think i'm gonna need a new camerawoman," peter shakes his head playfully, pouring something into a beaker.

"you can't replace me. i'm irreplaceable," you insist. "yeah. i know you are," peter says, and means it. he can make out a smile in your voice. "anyways, since you're so tough, why don't you take off the coat? and the goggles? i guess you don't need them."

"i can't! if doctor strange comes back and sees, he'll say i’m-"

"-violating safety precautions and being stupidly, dangerously irresponsible."

doctor strange lands on the linoleum floor of the lab, his cloak trailing behind him. peter has his goggles on his head, so he quickly pulls them down. you prop the camera up against a stool subtly, all three of you coming into the frame.

"we're dealing with the quantum realm, parker, something neither you nor i completely understand. let's not take our chances." strange puts on his own pair of lab goggles, giving both you and peter a stern look. you make a face at the camera. "yes, sir. i mean, stephen. i mean... yeah, stephen," peter stutters.

you take his hand to calm his nerves. he laces your fingers together with a grateful smile.

"where's banner?" doctor strange asks. "still not here yet. scott and i started setting up, though," peter answers. "you're certainly no world renowned scientists, but fine. i trust you know enough to handle glassware," strange says sarcastically.

"and what have you been doing, practicing your magic tricks?" you ask doctor strange. "they're not tricks, it's a mystic art. but yes, actually. things work differently in the quantum realm than they do here," he replies, narrowing his eyes at you.

"thanks for clearing that up. wow, you know a lot about this stuff. i can see why they made you sorcerer supreme," you say smugly. doctor strange closes his eyes, visibly irritated. "no, they chose wong. you know that," he says in a monotone. peter bites the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile.

you'd naturally met the avengers over the years you and peter were dating. everybody loved you because peter loved you, and they loved him. doctor strange was another story. peter hardly felt like strange even tolerated him, let alone his girlfriend he was constantly getting humbled by.

you figured that if he did it to peter, someone should do it to him. peter always appreciated you having his back in those moments.

you and strange had your banter, though, and he did love peter in his own way. clearly, considering that he brainwashed the whole world for him on multiple occasions.

"is there a reason you're here exactly?" doctor strange questions you. "yeah, to watch you make pym particles." you shrug. he sighs. "make– it doesn't work that way." doctor strange turns to peter. "what is she doing here?" he crosses his arms over his chest, his cloak mirroring his stance.

"y/n's always here," peter innocently replies, swinging your connected hands back and forth.

"yeah, she's one of us!"

"who said that?" doctor strange demands, looking around the lab.

"it's me, i’m tiny. hold on." scott suddenly grows from the size of an ant to his normal, human size, appearing next to the three of you. doctor strange and his cloak jump backwards.

"have you been here this whole time?" strange's voice raises in anger. "um, yeah. pay attention much?" scott scoffs. "pete already told you, we're setting up. hey, y/n/n." you and scott fist bump. "pete," he claps peter's shoulder. peter nods at him. "hey, scott. keep up the good work."

"solidarity among the bug men, isn't that sweet?" doctor strange dryly remarks. scott points a finger at him. "listen, wizard. you should be nicer to me. i’m your ticket to this whole quantum thing."

the two of them start to argue, so you and peter sneak away. you grab peter's camera again and film him as he finishes setting up for their experiment.

"i can't believe we got all that on video," peter laughs out. "yeah, that was some avengers reality tv shit," you agree. peter tightens more test tubes in place. some have pym particles in them, others empty. you suddenly take peter's chin between your fingers, prompting him to stop what he's doing and look up.

"you know what i was trying to say before? i know you're tough, and strong, but i’ll never just see you as spider-man. you're peter."

his doe eyes lock with yours behind the camera.

"and you might be spider-man to the world, but you'll always be my peter."

peter stops the video. he rewinds it to the part where you call him your peter, and then rewinds it again. tears begin to well up in his eyes. at the time, it was just something sweet you said. you could never have known how much it would mean to him now.

peter curls up on his pillow. he's gripping the camera with both hands, holding on tightly like it's you, because it's the closest thing he has to you. tears drip down his face and land on the screen as the rest of the video plays.

"thanks, baby. i'm not that strong, though. i just try to act like it because i’m scared. this all gets pretty intimidating sometimes," peter admits. "i know, but you deserve to be here. they need you here, and i think you're strong for coming," you reassure him. you flip the camera so it's showing your face and the back of peter's head.

peter kisses your cheek, then your lips lovingly. he can't tell watching it back, but he assumes he tries for more because you giggle and turn your face away.

"okay, guys! we hashed everything out!" scott calls in the background. "something of that sort," doctor strange mutters. "and y/n, since you insist on being here..." the cloak of levitation flies over to you and forms a makeshift hand, holding out a lab coat and goggles. "we have a dress code."

peter snickers at you. you put down the camera and take the lab gear, glaring at doctor strange, who smiles wickedly. strange's cloak floats behind you and taps on the camera lens, alerting his attention to it. his smile drops.

"are you two idiots recording in my lab?" doctor strange asks you and peter. "bruce's lab," scott corrects him. "yeah, it's mr. bruce's. i mean, doctor bruce's. i mean, doctor banner's-" peter cuts himself off when doctor strange comes marching over. he narrowly avoids bumping into him.

strange's cloak swipes the camera off the lab desk. you reach for it, but the cloak floats higher.

"well, until mr. doctor bruce banner shows up, i’m in charge, and this is strictly confidential," doctor strange decides.

"but we're not gonna show anyone, it's just for memories!" peter defends. "bruce always lets us record," you add. strange grabs the camera. "coat and goggles on. now," he reprimands you, scowling at the camera as he shuts it off.

peter actually finds himself laughing when the video ends. he misses you and his team so much, but watching his old videos has been comforting. he's exhausted now, both physically and emotionally, so he gets under the covers and lets himself drift off to the sounds of your voice as the next video plays.

there's a piece of you in each one, and a piece of peter parker, too. the real peter parker — yours. he'll always belong to you, even if you don't know it.

tags

@spidermans-gf @sacharinee @thollandsgirl2013 @pettypeety @girlinlovewithlove @marvelgurl @superlegend216 @angelinabelovedballerina @moniffazictress11 @superlegend216 @doubledizzy22 @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @starlight-starks @hollandsangel @ellebutnotwoods @tayyx @valluvsu @ronweasleysslut @winchestersgirl222  @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @niktwazny303 @thismessymasterpiece @alina02 @itsjanedeluca @idkeverythingistakennn @prancerrparkerr @urfayevorite @getwellsoontana @deanswifeyy @marvelita86 @uhhhj13iguess

[emeraldserenade]

thunderbolts reaction to reader getting a cat?

Getting a Cat ~ Thunderbolts* plus Joaquín Torres

synopsis: How they react to you getting a cat

tw: fem!reader, established relationship for everyone, cat's name is Elsie, it gets suggestive with Joaquín (breeding kink goes crazy with him), barely edited.

I've never done something like this but I have it separated by character. I know I said I wasn't writing for John Walker yet, so I guess take this as me trying my hand before I dive head first into him. I also added Joaquín as a bonus because I love him!!

➽──────────────❥

Bucky Barnes:

Bucky had Alpine so his first thought was to make sure the two got along. As soon as he realized they did, your little baby was just as spoiled as Alpine. You laughed constantly as Bucky got baited into giving both the cats more treats, even if they were just fed.

"I swear, they don't care about us," Bucky grumbled one night when he saw he was being blocked from cuddling into you by both cats, again.

"Awe, you poor baby," you joked, reaching out to stroke his cheek. The actions stirred the cats before both jumped down to curl up by the window. "See now you can come cuddle," you opened your arms and Bucky made himself at home. His head falling on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your middle, you were his grounding presence. The only one he never felt he had to be completely strong around, he could be just him.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Yelena Belova:

Yelena would be so excited and automatically try and make Elsie and Fanny friends. You watched as she tried her hardest only for Elsie to run every time Fanny got too close.

"Just give it time, love," you cooed at Yelena's crestfallen face. "The shelter said Elsie's skittish," you reminded her and she nodded.

"I just want them to love each other," she told you and you smiled at her.

"And they will, just not yet," you said as went back to reading your book.

The second you saw Elsie and Fanny were curled up and napping together, you took a picture and sent it to Yelena with the caption "See, I told you."

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Bob Reynolds:

Bob would be terrified at hurting your cat, he would be scared that he would forget his strength and accidentally pet her too hard.

"Here, give me your hand," you told him, holding your dominate one out. Bob placed his hand in yours gently and you moved it over to your cat curled up next to you. With gentle movements, you guided Bob's hand over the cat a few times before letting go.

You watched with a small smile as Bob kept petting her, occasionally scratching her head. "She's soft," Bob mumbled and you hummed.

"Yeah, she is. And see, you aren't hurting her. Trust me, cats will make it known if they dislike something," you told him, relaxing back against the bed as your attention turned back to the TV.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Ava Starr:

Ava would act all uninterested in Elsie but you caught her holding Elsie tenderly one time after a harder mission. You said nothing but you did sit next to her and pet Elsie. Offering silent comfort and to let Ava know you were ready to talk when she was.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Alexi Shostakov:

He would be all loud and happy about you bringing in a cat. Constantly taking any affection that Elsie gave him as a sign that he was her favorite. You would roll your eyes and let him have it, after all, there was no way you would argue about it. Elsie did seem to like Alexi the most.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

John Walker:

John is a dog person and is completely uninterested in Elsie. But then he turns into one of those 'dads with the pet they didn't want' and Elsie is spoiled. Any joke you made about it was met with a huff but it only made you laugh harder.

"You love her, admit it!" You called from your spot on the couch.

"I do not, I just tolerate her more than normal cats," John huffed.

"You're literally cutting up a salmon filet for her!"

"She needs the fatty acids and proteins."

"Yeah, ok, you health freak," you pretend to not notice his offended look.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín Torres:

Joaquín is a dog person but loves you more, so the second you get excited over bringing Elsie home, he's already changing his pet preference. Your shared house is full of top tier cat toys, perches, and beds. Only for Elsie to like sleeping on either of you and messes with your hair ties.

"This is why I like dogs, at least they play with the things you buy them," Joaquín grumbled but planted a small kiss to Elsie's head anyway.

"She just loves us more than what we give her, the perfect kid," you joked without looking up from your book.

"Perfect kid, huh?" You missed the insinuation in his tone so you hummed. "Let's go make one," Joaquín said, pulling your book out of your hands before marking the page and pulling you into his chest.

"Joaquín Torres!" You laughed but let him pull you into the bedroom anyway.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[hearts4hughes]

OK HEAR ME OUT BUT LIKE SOMETHING WITH THIS TIKTOK BROO IT NEEDS TO BE WRITTEN and u’re rhe first author that came to mind😣🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Link:

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSk7dosHa/

ೃ࿔:･ bsf!rafe punching jj for you

it’s not jealousy. well, that’s what you keep telling yourself. it’s not jealousy—it’s just rafe. he’s always been like this. too protective. too intense. always hovering near the edge of something darker. but he’s also the one who carries your drunk ass home, who leaves snacks in your passenger seat, who remembers every tiny thing you’ve ever said like it matters. he’s your best friend.

you say that a lot lately. mostly to convince yourself. you were on your way into tannyhill when you heard the two voices. rafe invited you over for a movie night—a tradition between you two. although, he seems to have overbooked his plans. jj’s out there; rafe too.

you pause on the last step of the porch. you stand in the shadows, observing from afar. rafe’s hair is touseled and messy, eyes dark and bloodshot with whatever drug he’s snorted. his hat is thrown on the ground—most likely from jj’s antics. jj stands across from him with a smug smirk, sunglasses on even though it’s well past dawn, and arms crossed like he owns the grounds.

“what do you mean?” jj’s voice, light but cautious.

“i mean like,” rafe huffs, running a hand through his hair. “you didn’t kiss her or anything.” rafe’s, flat. no smirk or hint of amusement.

your breath catches. they don’t know you’re here, but blood still rushes to your cheeks. jj snorts. “no.”

rafe nods fast, eyes glued to the ground. “right.”

“absolutely not, no.” jj adds. maybe to egg on rafe or maybe to convince himself he didn’t want to kiss you in the first place. you should leave. you really should. but your feet stay planted, heartbeat thudding like a dare.

“did you want it?” rafe’s voice cuts through the air. he’s staring daggers into poor jj. like no matter what answer, he’s going to react the same way.

jj doesn’t answer right away. and that pause is too long, too telling. then, he chuckles, throws his head back and says, “oh yeah. totally.”

the hit comes fast—rafe was waiting for it. crack. jj stumbles back with a strangled grunt, clutching his jaw. “dude—what the fuck?” both of them are silhouetted by the dock light. jj’s laughing through the pain like an idiot. rafe’s standing like a statue, fists still clenched, breathing uneven. “what the hell is wrong with you?” jj spits, wiping his mouth. “you asked-”

“don’t fucking talk about her like that.” rafe’s voice is thin. he doesn’t want to waste his time with this pogue, but he’s never been too good at controlling his emotions. especially when it came to you.

jj scoffs, still smiling. “jesus, man. she’s not yours.”

“she is.” he growls, lips curled and fists clenched again. he’s ready to punch every tooth out of maybank’s head when they hear a noise.

you flinch hard enough that the porch creaks. they both turn. rafe sees you first. his expression doesn’t change, not really. but something in him tightens. like he’s bracing for you to run. he’s expecting you to look at him like he’s a monster, just like everyone does.

you don’t move or yell. you just stare. “you hit him,” you say, voice barely above the breeze.

“he deserved it.”

jj groans behind him, still hunched, still bleeding. “you’re psycho, dude.”

“and you’re an opportunistic little bitch,” rafe snaps without looking at him. “you think i didn’t see the way you look at her?”

you step forward slowly, like you’re approaching a wild animal. “rafe.” he turns toward you fully. the anger’s still there, but it’s buried now under something worse—something softer, needier. “he’s not your problem,” he says, too quiet. “i handle what’s mine.”

what’s mine.

you should correct him. you should. but the truth is that you’ve always let him talk like that. part of you has always liked it. your silence says more than anything else. rafe watches the way you look at him, blood still on his knuckles, and something in his gaze flickers. it’s ownership, devotion, and something that should scare you. but doesn’t. not nearly enough because instead of tending to jj, you grad ahold of rafe’s hand.

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @mojitrvo @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife @restinpaece @illumoria @meetmeintheemeraldpool @miaaaoa @imtalkinnonsense @strawberrymilk99 @angel06babysworld @rafesteddy @drewrry @urcoolgf @thegirlnextdoorssister @sydneysslove @dsfault @missabsey @ivysturnss @kisses4rafey

[hahaifolded]

hello!!!!!

I don’t know if this is a stupid or unnecessary ask but how would Kyle and the team react to Soap and Reader’s break up? Would they notice a difference since Soap wouldn’t be so happy and loud anymore? Maybe he would just whine and complain the whole time, and it happened too much that one of them pushed him to confess what happened (I would believe that to be Kyle since we called him and not the captain or such). I might be going off topic and beginning to rant right here, I am so sorry!!!! 🫶🏽

Enjoy this rough, continuation of Cellophane (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x POC!GN Reader

Warnings: MDNI, ANGST (racism), comparatively not as bad as the first part, Johnny still sucks however, mid-writing, abrupt ending Author's Note: You know what, I wasn't going to do a part two but I read this and boom... thoughts! Thank you for the ask, @shitaaba

Has the sun ever felt better on his skin? Gaz doesn’t think so.

What a perfect day! No early meetings or training. Sun is shining, the town isn’t too busy, and Kyle finally has time to hit that coffee shop you and Johnny showed him all those months ago. 

You and Johnny… what a beautiful couple. Well mostly you but Kyle will keep that to himself as he doesn’t need Johnny on his back for “fucking you with his eyes” again. His teammate sure is a lucky man, especially since Kyle isn’t a homewrecker, because if Gaz had his way, you’d be right next to h— 

“Ah!” Kyle quickly grabs at the poor soul that he smacked into. 

“Shit, so sorry. Are you ok… oh, it’s you!” he first apologizes then gleams. What a strange coincidence. Is this manifestation? 

You look up and immediately pull away from his grasp. Your eyes are wide as they wander for a quick getaway. “Don’t even worry about it. If you’ll excuse me,” you rush out as you side-step Kyle. 

Kyle blocks you and throws you a warm smile as an attempt to ease your embarrasment. “Woah, woah, why the rush? It’s been awhile. What, Johnny has you caged up?” Gaz laughs at his own joke. He thought that would for sure make you laugh. It doesn’t.

Your face falls, and for the first time ever, Kyle sees you shrink. Your energy completely dissipates as discomfort overtakes you. 

“Hey, everything okay?” Kyle softens his voice and reaches out, laying a gentle hand on your upper arm in an attempt to lift you up. You slowly step away from it which only worries Kyle more. “What happened? Did Johnny do something?” 

“John and I broke up.” 

-- -- --

“Up for drinks tonight boys? My treat,” announces Price at the end of the team meeting.

“Sure.”

“As long as you pay, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Can’t.”

“Again Johnny? This is the fifth time you’ve bailed on us,” Ghost remarks. 

Soap lets out a deep laugh. “You’re just bitter that I have something sweeter waiting for me at home.” Ghost rolls his eyes while Price laughs. 

“Wanker.” 

Soap, Ghost, and Price all turn towards Kyle. Did he just call Soap a wanker? Why?

“Just a wee joke. Meant no harm,” Soap yields. Gaz just rolls his eyes and continues packing his things. 

Instead of engaging with Gaz, Johnny decides to concede and continue packing. Clearly something is bothering his fellow sergeant but Soap knows it's better to wait until Kyle opens up. And if he’s honest to himself, he really doesn’t have the capacity right now for other people’s problems.  He has enough of his own. 

“Before I forget, ma has been nagging me to bring you guys over for dinner again. Worried that we’re starving or something. Think next week works for all of ya?” 

“Sure.”

“Should I bring anything?”

“Your mom okay with me coming?”

Ghost and Price do a double take as Kyle’s question catches them off guard. Kyle pays them no attention as he stares down Soap who’s smile drops. 

However, as fast as it dropped, it immediately reappeared. “What kind of question is that? Course she knows,” the Scotsman smiles. 

Kyle chuckles in disbelief. “Really? So she knows about me but not your bird?” 

“What?” Soap’s entire demeanor changes. His confident, go-lucky self crumbles, now replaced with shame and discomfort. “What are you on about?”

“Mate, you can’t be serious?” Kyle barks. He takes a step forward towards his counterpart but is stopped by a confused, but attentive captain. Price steps in and asks for an explanation. 

Kyle stares Soap down and bites, “you want to tell them or should I?”  All color drains from Soap's face

“That’s enough you two,” Ghost jumps in, unable to take this anymore. “Whatever problems Johnny is having with his bird is between him and—“

“They broke up two months ago!” Kyle finally exclaims. Ghost’s eyes widened. Price’s jaw drops. That made no sense as just last week, Johnny went on and on about the perfect getaway you two went on. Ghost and Price look to Johnny for answers, but with the way Johnny is standing, head down, shoulders slumped, their questions are answered. 

“Johnny, what happened?” Price tries to comfort the Scotsman. He saw how happy you made the sergeant happy. He even had a heart-to-heart with Johnny when he expressed his desire to marry you. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’ll tell you why.” And with that, Kyle goes off. He tells the team how Johnny, despite claiming to love you more than life itself, refused to fight for you. ”I bet you’re just like your parents,” spits Kyle. 

“You don’t get it,” counters Johnny. His face twists in despair. 

“What’s not to get? Your parents are fucking racist and you refuse to do anything about it.” Kyle couldn’t believe it. Johnny is his friend, his comrade, his brother in arms; despite everything they’ve gone through, Kyle thought he could trust the Scotsman. And worst of all, he wasn’t the one who got hurt, it was you, sweet, beautiful you got hurt. “You’re pathetic. You never fucking deserved them!” 

“That’s enough,” Price puts his foot down. His face stern. He gestures to Soap and sends him to his office. Soap drops his head and nods in defeat. As Johnny walks away, Price lets out a deep breath and asks Ghost to watch Kyle before heading off himself.

The lieutenant and sergeant stand in silence as Kyle is way too angry to speak and Ghost is just uncomfortable by the entire situation. Did Johnny really lose you because of his parents? Ghost couldn’t believe it. He’s seen firsthand how Johnny furiously defended you during late nights out at the bar when other soldiers got a little too crude with the way they spoke about you. Ghost personally has had to rip the sergeant off one too many times from rude allies. What made Ghost even more uncomfortable was the amount of time he’s spent with Johnny’s family and never once got the feeling that his parents were racist. They’ve always been kind to the Lietenant. He assumed it was because of his rank or even his own past, never for… 

“Kyle?” Kyle cocks his head towards Ghost, eyes still buring with rage. “Has his parents ever…”

“No,” Kyle admits. He exhales deeply, his shoulders easing a bit. “I mean, there's been some weird comments here and there but I just assumed it was cause they’re old, never…” Kyle trails off, clearly affected by everything. 

Ghost just nods. He stays quiet for a bit until another question pops in his head. “Are they okay?” 

Kyle shrugs his shoulders. “They’re alright. Still hurt but they’ll survive” 

Ghost hums. He has a million other questions but decides to stay quiet. As much as he wants to know how Kyle found out or what (but really who) you’re doing these days, Ghost sees that Kyle is just exhausted. So with that, the two men finish packing in silence. With their bags in hand, they both leave the conference room, walking side by side in the hallway. 

Kyle pulls out his phone and lets out a small chuckle. Ghost can’t help but give Gaz a weird look. What’s so funny? 

“You know something, L.T., I don’t even feel bad anymore.” Ghost tilts his head as Kyle shows him something on his phone.

You: Saturday works for me! 

Word Count: 1246

Thanks for reading! - Fold's Page Guide + Masterlist

[lush-escape]

The Vigilante's Guide to Grief

pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

wc: 1.4k

summary: Jason's therapist recommends journaling to help him through his grieving process after your death

prev: first entry

next: denial

Stage one: Shock

Hey,

Ok that's a little easier than writing dear. It's June 11th. Sorry it's been a little while. This just feels stupid still. But I told Christy (dumb stupid therapist who told me to do this) that I would give it another try. So here I am. Trying. Unfortunately she's not that bad. That's a lie. I actually really like her. Dick came by to check on me today. Him and Kori brought over some weird tameranian dessert. I dont know. I stuck it in the fridge it looks like it might grow legs and try to bite me.

Jason rubs at his eyes, “I still have no idea what I'm supposed to write.” He mumbles a curse under his breath while running his hand through his messy hair.

I bet you would have tried it. You always liked the weirdest shit. Like the time Steph and Cass tried to make a cake for you for your birthday. Who the fuck even makes matcha and strawberry cake?

“Um, why does it look like that?” Jason eyes the questionable looking cake in front of him.

“Don't worry about how it looks!” Steph waves him off with a nervous smile.

“Do not judge a book by its cover.” Cass crosses her arms as if she's actually offended by Jason's question.

“It's good! She loves matcha and strawberries, it'll be great.”

“Okay, but like… what kind of cake flavor is it?” Jason asks.

“Coffee.” Cass replies.

Jason groans and rubs his hands down his face, “I should have just ignored both of you and gone to the bakery. This is my first time celebrating her birthday with her as her boyfriend, I can't believe I let you two talk me into this. She's going to hate me. She's going to break up with me-”

“Oh no,” Steph shoots Cass a worried glance, “He's spiraling.”

Cass narrows her eyes and smacks Jason on the back of the head earning her an annoyed “ow! What was that for?!”

“Relax. Trust us.” She says calmly.

That night when you went to Wayne Manor at Jason's invite for a special birthday dinner, he said. And when it was time for cake you were just as surprised as Jason, just on the other end of the spectrum. You stare at it unblinkingly.

“It's, listen okay-” Jason stammers, hand on the back of his neck. “I know it looks a little off and I told Steph and Cass that this was going to be a bad idea-” he rambles.

You place a gentle hand on his forearm and immediately he melts. He sighs and deflates, his thoughts stop spiraling, and suddenly everything is right in the world.

“I hate how you do that….” He whispers.

“What?” You ask with a smile.

“Just.. calm me down like that. All you have to do is touch me and it's like- like everything stops and I can think clearly.”

You smile up at him, warm and bright and like he's created the entire universe just for you.

“Come on, let's try this cake.” You tell him softly.

And despite his better judgement he does try the cake. It's different, not what he imagined, and it's good. Jason grumbles as Cass and Steph tease him for being right.

“Alright, enough of everyone's pestering. We're getting outta here.” Jason waves off the family as he takes your hand in his. You look at him and silently ask where he's taking you and he gives you a soft smile in return. He can hear Tim and Dick snickering at the loving gesture. But he ignores them as he drags you out of the manor.

“It’s a surprise.” Jason tells you quietly.

That night Jason takes you for a drive to the harbor near Brown Bridge. It's quiet and cool, the lights from the city accentuating the bridge in front of you. Water slowly laps at the shore, you can hear frogs and crickets as Jason helps you climb onto the hood of his car before taking a spot next to you.

“What'd you bring me all the way out here for?” You ask him playfully with a smile, leaning your cheek against his shoulder.

Jason wraps an arm around you, “..just wanted you for m’self.” He answers questions as his heart thuds in his chest.

“An’... I got you something. Didn't want the brats to see it.” He finally admits after a few peaceful moments of silence. You knew it was coming.

Jason reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black box.

“It's not anything crazy, just…” He hands it over to you and he's thanking the stars that it's dark out so you can't see the way his face flushes in embarrassment.

Inside is a small, simple, heart shaped locket. Inside holds a picture of the two of you, one of your photo booth pictures - the one of you kissing Jason's cheek as he smiles. The opposite side is engraved with the day he officially asked you to be his.

“Jason…” you breathe out, touched. Heartfelt tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

Wordlessly Jason takes the locket from you and begins to fasten it around your neck.

“It's beautiful, baby.” Your fingers trace the edging of the locket, memorizing it. Jason blushes even more.

“S’not that big of a deal, calm down.” He plays it off with a smile. But even he can't deny the way his heart flutters when he sees it on you.

“Yes it is, you big softy.” You smile up at him and he mumbles something that sounds a lot like “‘m not soft”.

“Yeah, whatever.” He grumbled affectionately before pulling you back into his side.

Jason drops his pen and puts his head in his hands with a shaky sigh. The memory of your first birthday together as an official couple haunts him. He lets himself breathe for a few minutes before he picks his pen back up.

I need you here so bad right now. Not in that stupid fucking urn. I'm spiraling. Again. Sometimes I wish I could feel the same way I did right after you died. Empty. Numb. So I wouldn't have to sit with my thoughts. I was on autopilot. Freaked everyone out though. B said he’d never seen someone so emotionless while planning a funeral before. He said I was in shock. Yeah no shit.

“She doesn't want to be buried.” Jason’s flat tone made everyone on edge.

“We'll have her cremated.” Bruce’s hand is on Jason's shoulder as he looks through a catalogue of coffins and urns.

“Hm…” Jason hums. “Something nice.” His eyes are on the page but he's not really looking. He can't believe this is happening. It all feels fake to him. There's no way your body is going to fit into an urn. You're <I>you</I>, you're not supposed to be in an urn. You're supposed to be sitting on the couch, in his lap, making him watch Love Island or whatever the fuck.

“Something pretty and ornate.” Jason's eyes skim the page. “This one.” He points to a black urn engraved beautifully with stars.

Bruce nods once. He's aware of the shock Jason is in, but it still unnerves him to see his son like this.

“Of course.” He says.

“And for the service I think we should do a, uh, dessert pot luck. She loves desserts.”

Bruce notices the way Jason is still talking about you in present tense but doesn't say anything.

Jason's writing is rushed now as he's trying to get out all of his thoughts while memories of you swirl around in his head.

Christy says that's one of the worst states of grief but I miss it. God I miss you. This isn't fucking fair. None of it is. It wasn't supposed to be you you know. It was supposed to be me. It was always supposed to be me. I already died once what's one more time? I would die a hundred times over if it meant you got to stay here even if it was just for 2 fucking minutes

Jason sighs and closes his notebook. His head is a clouded mess, feels thick with cotton and heavy like lead.

“God damnit…” He pushes away from the desk and without a second thought goes to the kitchen to try that dessert from Kori and Dick. It's what you would've done, after all.

taglist: @vellichor01 @thy-crimson-king @theendofthematerialgworl @tinasdcstuff @4rachn3

[sweetromanova]

Claw & Order: Part Four (The Final)🐾

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is being accused of grand theft feline. The evidence? A very smug tabby. The problem? She kinda loves him now.

Chapter Four (The Final)

The compound was quiet when you arrived, you almost felt embarrassed considering the last time you were here, you may have been acting a little insane. But before you had time to dwell, something caught your eye just outside of the automatic doors: a small black collar lying abandoned on the cracked sidewalk, its tiny bell silent. You knelt down, heart tightening.

“Milo’s collar.” You whispered. “I put it back on him after he’d been with you.”

Natasha crouched beside you, scanning the street. “Looks like he made an appearance here recently.”

You clutched the collar like a lifeline, voice trembling. “This means he’s close… he has to be.”

Inside, the mood shifted. You fell into the sofa and finally let the walls fall down, tears spilling over as the weight of everything, lost job, the crappy apartment, the loneliness hit you all at once. Your sobs echoed through the compound’s living room. Natasha stood frozen, awkwardly clutching a can opener from the kitchen like it was a weapon.

She finally muttered. “Shall I… pat your back now?”

You let out a choking laugh mixed with tears. “Yes! Pat my back! Stroke my hair! Do something! Stop watching me cry like a weirdo!”

Natasha gave you the faintest smile, crouching beside you and awkwardly draping an arm over your shaking shoulders. “I’m better at missions, not feelings, but… I’m here.”

You hiccuped. “Thank you.”

And then, just as you thought the night couldn’t get stranger, Yelena appeared from the hallway, slumping downs and throwing her feet casually on the coffee table, munching dried mango slices.

“Oh hey!” She said cheerfully, ignoring your presence completely.

“Yelena, what are you doing here?”

“Is it illegal to come see my sister?” Yelena mock-gasps. “Although looks like you have a lot going on right now.”

“I- Yes- Well-“ How could she explain away your sobbing without bringing up Milo and making you cry more?!

“I think I will go hang with Wanda, this looks way too messy and emotional for me to even be near.” She cackles, turning around and starting to head out. “Oh wait, I got you something.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “What now?”

“Pss, pss, pss.”

“What are you doing?!”

“Here, kitty kitty.” Yelena whispered, getting up and leading a very familiar black cat out of the bedroom. “I got you a friend so you can stop whatever weird hobby is going on right now-“ Yelena stood, revealing Milo, who blinked lazily from her arms.

“Milo?!” “Liho?!

You and Natasha gasped together.

“Cool! You know him?” Yelena shrugged. “He snuck into my truck, climbed into my duffel bag. Found him snoozing next to Fanny during the mission.”

“You STOLE the cat?” Natasha barked, aghast.

“She really is your sister.” You deadpanned, feeling the relief drain from your shoulders as Milo climbed lazily into your arms.

“I borrowed him.” Yelena replied with a smirk. “He likes me better.”

“He’s MINE!” You declared, clutching him tight as he rubbed his face against your neck like a tiny, smug criminal.

“Congratulations. He’s now a freelance operative.” Yelena said dryly.

You groaned, tears filling your eyes all over again. “My cat is an international criminal.”

Natasha shook her head, half amused, half horrified. “You took my non-cat on a covert op?”

Yelena grinned. “He clawed a diplomat. Very effective.”

Milo meowed, smug as hell and rubbed his head against your neck like he hadn’t just gone AWOL with yet another trained assassin.

You sighed. “You gave my cat trauma.”

“He sat in the front seat and ate jerky.” Yelena said dryly. “I think he gave me trauma.”

“Ok, ok.” Natasha intervened. “Yelena, please go bother someone else before you do anymore damage.”

“Whatever, I’m more of a dog person anyway.”

Natasha waited until she was gone before turning to you and checking the lazy animal over in your arms. “He’s okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“She’s- that’s- Yelena is my sister and honestly we’re still trying to work out how to describe her. She’s-“

“Yeah, I got that. Did she really take my cat on a mission?”

“Yeah, she did.” Natasha sighed. “I’m sorry about everything, this has been a long day.”

“Yeah.” You agreed softly. “It has.”

Your hand gently scratched under Milo’s chin as he purred contentedly against your chest, utterly unbothered by the emotional damage he’d caused. “Well… I should probably get going now that he’s back.”

Natasha looked at you for a long moment. “You could stay.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Just for a bit. There’s a couch. I can make popcorn. He already thinks he lives here half of the time anyway.” She gave a small shrug. “Besides, if you cry again, I’d rather it be near government medical personnel.”

You cracked a smile. “Wow. So warm. So inviting.”

Natasha smirked faintly. “I’m practicing.”

A little while later, you found yourself curled up on the couch in borrowed sweatpants, a too-large SHIELD hoodie and a bowl of popcorn on your lap. Milo was already stretched across the cushions like he paid rent. Natasha had put on some old action movie but neither of you were really watching, just quietly enjoying the warmth, the stillness, the surprising comfort of being exactly where you were.

You glanced over at her, nervous. “So… you can still visit him, if you want? I can bring him over, if you’d like that is.”

Natasha looked at you with a soft and grateful look. “Yeah I would like that.”

She hesitated, for a second then with a crooked little smile: “Does that include you?”

Your brow lifted, playful now. “Are you asking if I come with the cat?”

She gave you a mock casual shrug. “Well, I mean… if you're part of the enrichment package, I’m not complaining.”

You laughed and leaned just a little closer. “That’s a dangerous offer.”

Your heart stuttered, breath catching slightly as her hand brushed yours. You leaned in too, just enough that you felt the spark, the moment heavy with possibility-

And then the door swung open.

Yelena strolled in, looking mildly annoyed and holding something behind her back.

“Wanda told me I should apologise.” She said flatly, like the word physically hurt her. She nudged a small bag toward you with the tip of her boot. “So… here.”

You stared then opened it.

Inside is a tiny black tactical vest, for a cat.

There were little slots for treats. A stitched patch that read ‘Meowgical Ops.’ And another that said ‘Property of No One.’

You looked up slowly. “You made him a spy vest?”

Yelena shrugged. “He earned it. Very bitey. Good instincts.”

Natasha groaned and facepalmed. “I can’t believe my sister drafted a cat.”

Liho meowed proudly, already trying to climb into the vest.

You held up the tiny thing in awe. “…This could have turned out to be the best day of my life.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You were still holding the tiny black tactical vest like it might explode.

Milo or Liho, smug, purring and somehow not remotely apologetic had already begun trying to roll into it, like he knew what it meant. Like he knew he was now not just a cat but a weaponised asset.

“He’s not going on any more missions.” You said, flatly. “He barely understands the concept of stairs.”

“He understands betrayal just fine.” Natasha muttered. “He licked Yelena’s face. I saw it.”

Yelena, leaning against the doorframe with a crooked smile like this was a sitcom, piped up brightly, “That’s called affection, Tasha. You should try it sometime.”

Natasha didn’t even turn around. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, sorry. Agent Grumpanova. My bad.”

You covered a snort with your hand.

Yelena zeroed in on it instantly. “Oh! She laughs now? Wow. Look at you, laughing and smiling. I go on one mission with your cat and suddenly we’re best friends. Kinda makes you think.”

Natasha side-eyed you. “Don’t encourage her.”

Yelena smirked. “I’m just saying. If she wanted to stay here longer… hang out… decompress… maybe get her emotional support feline debriefed-“

“She’s not staying because of you and she’s not going to any debriefs.” Natasha snapped. “She’s staying because I invited her to… I want her too.”

You blinked. “You really want me to stay? After everything?”

Natasha gave you a small shrug, clearly trying not to seem invested. “Well. You needed somewhere warm and emotionally stable.”

“And you brought her here?” Yelena said, completely scandalised.

“Are you done?”

“Me? Never. I want to witness whatever tragic thing is going on here.”

Natasha finally turned to her. “Tragic? If you don’t leave, the only thing you’re going to be witnessing is my tongue down her throat.”

You choked on your own saliva.

Yelena froze mid-step. “…You’re bluffing.”

Natasha raised one brow. “Try me.”

Yelena’s eyes went wide. She looked between the two of you like you’d grown matching horns. “You’re serious. You’re- ugh, no, I’m not emotionally equipped for this-“

She lunged for Liho, who was now comfortably nested on your lap, eyes narrowed in judgment at everyone.

“C’mon, tiny comrade.” Yelena muttered, scooping him up. “We don’t need to witness this. You’ve seen enough.”

“He literally attacked a diplomat.” Natasha called after her. “He’s seen worse.”

“He was defending democracy!” Yelena shouted from down the hallway.

And then, mercifully, she was gone.

Silence stretched in the room, just the soft whir of the heater and your heartbeat banging in your ears.

Natasha glanced sideways at you. “You okay?”

You blinked. “You threatened your sister with our hypothetical make out session.”

“I told you I was good with threats.”

You swallowed, pulse still fluttering. “Was it… really hypothetical?”

Her eyes flicked to your lips then back up, slow, deliberate. “Do you want it to be?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. You didn’t say anything but you didn’t have to.

Natasha took one quiet step closer. Her hand came up, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles grazing your cheek.

Then, softly, just above a whisper: “We can circle back.”

“Circle back? CIRCLE BACK?! What is this, a corporate email? I have spent the whole day stress crying about my cat, sobbing over tuna and catnip and you just want to schedule feelings-“

And then she kissed you.

To shut you up? Probably.

Did it matter? Absolutely not.

It wasn’t tentative, it never was with Natasha. It was steady, sure, like she’d already decided this was happening and all you had to do was meet her there.

You did. Absolutely, completely.

Somewhere down the hall, Yelena made a noise of disgust and dramatically slammed a door.

Neither of you stopped.

[angel-writes-skz-here]

Seduction

Prof! Minho x Student! Reader Synopsis: Minho's in town for Christmas break and he's got some questions that will need answers. Warnings: SMUT, unprotected p in v (Shocker! Fr be safe) oral (both rec.), fingering, pet names, soft Minho, romance. A/N: Christmas in June, my sweets! I apologize for the wait! But chapter 5 is here! I'll try to have chapter 6 out soon! Just bare with me! Ignore any mistakes, I'll proof read again later. Merry Christmas in June, y'all!! 😉 Xoxo💋

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Merry Christmas

The sunlight from the morning peers in through the curtains of your living room, waking you up. You feel a pair of hands around your waist, the memory of everything from the previous day flooding back. You smile to yourself as you feel Minho shift in his sleep. Your hand lightly goes on top of his; cradling it.

You gently turn in his arms, his face looking peaceful as you study it. You smile as you notice his brown hair in his face, his lips slightly agape and a small bit of drool on the pillow underneath him; the way his body subconsciously contorted to fit yours swells your heart.

You run your fingers through his hair gently, watching him stir and a small smile creeps onto his face. You breathe out a giggle before his eyes slowly open. You both smile at each other; it’s like you’re in your own little world.

“Good morning,” you whisper.

“Good morning,” he smiles.

“I have some shopping I have to do today,” you mention as your eyes scan him.

“Can I come?”

“I’d love that,” you smile. The two of you get up and as you head off to your room you notice Minho grabbing his keys.

“I left my stuff at the hotel last night,” he mentions sheepishly.

“Thought I might kick you out?” you playfully ask.

“I wanted insurance, yeah.” He shrugs honestly. You smile and nod understandably.

“Well, you can get your stuff, because you’ll be here with me this week,” you smile as you walk up to him, cupping his cheek.

“If you want to be, that is,” you whisper and he grins.

“No where else I’d rather be.”

He pecks your lips before leaving to grab his things.

-

The two of you arrive at the mall, hand in hand, walking around. It's nice to be out in public, together, physically showing affection for once.

“It’s so busy,” he comments.

“Yeah, Christmas around here isn’t nearly the same as it in Korea,” you inform him.

“How so?”

“Eh, it’s more family oriented, everything practically shuts down. People spend time with family at home opening gifts, sharing meals together, it’s really nice.” You smile sentimentally as you walk into the next store, making the final purchases for your family.

“So, am I allowed to join your American traditions?” he asks cautiously.

“I don’t see why not, my parents and I do Christmas at their house that evening and on Christmas Eve. So, we can do dinner and I’ll let them know I have a friend joining me.” You say as you pull out your phone to send a quick text to your mom.

“Friend?” He quirks a brow with a smirk.

“I think it’d just be easiest to say friend, for now, I mean, I can’t say, “hey mom here’s my former professor from Korea that I fucked before he was my professor,” you say and he nods with a small chuckle. He peels off from you a little, looking at a few things, as you finalize your purchases.

“Ready to go?” you ask, bags in hand, grabbing his attention from the clothing rack.

“Huh, oh yeah. Let’s go,” he smiles.

“Hey, do me a favor, take these to the car, would you?” you ask as you round a corner. He smiles and nods, heading out to the car giving you enough time to slip into the jewelry store. There’s no way you were letting him go without at least one gift on Christmas morning.

You glance at the watches, finding the one you think would suit Minho the best. You purchase it quickly and you feel your phone start to buzz.

“Hey,”

“Hey, I um, I think I’m lost.” He chuckles looking around not seeing you.

“Ok, well I won’t be long, can you get back to the car?” You ask as you eye the lingerie store.

“Yeah, are you sure you want me to wait?”

“Yeah, I’ll be out soon.” You smile.

“Ok,” he says simply before hanging up.

You walk into the store, instantly spotting the red bow tie lingerie. You smile as you think to yourself how sweet it would be, making love by the fire place, the warmth of the room surrounding you, the two of you together finally on the same page, no one trying to hurt the other, the only thing on either of your mind’s simply being pleasure and closeness.

You quickly purchase it along with a new bottle of perfume, smiling to yourself like an idiot. You make your way to the car, hiding the watch in the lingerie bag.

“What did you buy?” He asks, rolling the window down as you head to the trunk.

“Some perfume I found on sale,” you say simply. Minho feels a slight disappointment but masks it and nods.

“Let’s get home, I still have to wrap,” you say as you enter the car again.

-

The night goes by quickly, Minho ordering pizza and, poorly, helping you wrap gifts. He gets into a fight with the tape, flicking his hand like a cat, only getting it stuck worse to his hands and now sweater. You can’t contain your giggles as you watch him and catch his hand, the heat from the small fireplace hitting your back.

“Have you ever even wrapped a gift before?” you ask through fits of giggles.

“Yes,” he pouts, his brown hair falling in his face.

“Well why don’t you get me some more wine,” you say as you get the tape unstuck. He purses his lips and hops up with your glass.

“Want some more pizza?” He calls from the kitchen.

“Uhhh,” you say as you fold up the last corner on the gift, “Yes please!” you say as you place it under the tree.

“Now tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” you remind him as he brings back your drink and pizza and sits down.

“Meaning we spend the night at your parents’ with family watching movies, baking cookies and having a good meal. I remember.” He says confidently. You smile.

“Good boy,” you wink and he quirks a brow.

“Excuse me?” he says as he moves the wrapping paper and backs you onto the floor.

“I said. Good. Boy.” You punctuate each word with a tap to his nose. He smiles down at you, eyes traveling between yours.

“I’m happy,” he whispers softly. You smile at him, stomach twisting with excited anxiety.

“Me too,” you whisper as you notice the light from the fire casting a golden glow on his face. Minho gently presses his lips to yours, sighing against you.

Later that night, once you’re sure Minho is asleep, you’re able to wrap his watch, hiding it towards the back of the tree so he wouldn’t notice it.

-

The next night you’re surrounded by family and friends, something about it feeling more nostalgic than you remember years previously. The laughter, the young kids running around and watching the Santa tracker; all of it feels warm, familiar, almost final.

Everyone welcomes Minho with open arms, practically making him feel like part of the family.

“So you two met over in Korea?” your mother asks as she stabs a piece of food with her fork, her eyebrows raised suspiciously.

“Yes ma’am,” Minho answers.

“How?”

You smile nervously at your mother.

“He offered to tutor me for this psychology class I had gotten behind in, and we just hit it off. Became friends and kept in touch.”

“So, you shared the same class?”

“Yep,” you smile.

“Funny I never heard you mention a, Minho,” she says cautiously hoping she pronounced it right and Minho nods, “before.”

“Oh yeah, well it was a last-ditch effort to stay but ultimately I thought it better to come home and ya know, I’ve been busy since I got back.” You smile and eat your food nervously.

The dinner continues on, everyone having wonderful conversation, so much so you don’t hardly eat. Except for the few bites taken earlier so you could stuff your mouth and not have to talk to your mom.

As the family begins making cookies, Minho whispers in your ear.

“I’ll be back, ok?” You look at him concerned, not noticing your mother’s watchful eye.

“Are you ok?” you ask quietly and he nods, desperate to kiss your forehead but he resists, simply squeezing your hand out of sight of the family.

“I won’t be long,” he says and grabs the car keys. He leaves without another word.

Sometime later Minho returns, helping decorate the cookies with your little cousins, the sight swelling your heart as he helps them pipe the icing. The kids pick on him a little and he laughs, getting them back, starting a mini icing war that ends with you having to clean both Minho and the kids up. The two of you smile at each other, the moments between you still surreal.

-

“We’ll see you guys’ tomorrow afternoon, ok?” your mother says before kissing your cheek and hugging Minho.

“You treat her well, you hear me,” she whispers in his ear firmly. His eyes widen slightly and he looks at your mother.

“I’m sorry, I,”

“We’ll see y’all tomorrow.” She smiles like nothing was said, bright and happy, and helps you out the door.

“What’s wrong?” you ask noticing the paler look on his face once outside.

“She knows,” he says.

“She thinks she knows.” You correct.

“She always was good at that though. Picking up on the little things. But it doesn’t matter,” you shrug as you approach the car.

“The only way she’ll know, is if we tell her.”

-

You pull into your driveway, and Minho instructs you to stay put until he comes out to get you.

You quirk a brow at him as you watch him run inside and you giggle as he runs back out soon after and opens your door for you; helping you out of the car like a gentleman.

“What the heck are you doing?” you giggle. He doesn’t answer just leads you inside out of the cold.

When the door opens you notice your living room fire place is going, candles are lit and there’s soft instrumental music playing. You stop, your breath catching in your throat as you feel Minho’s hands rub up your arms and help you slide off your jacket.

“What did you,” you look back at him, a soft expression on his face.

The room is covered in candles, the fire place going, drinks and snacks out for you,  and fairy lights strung around the room.

“I had an idea and wanted to surprise you,” he smiles and pecks your lips before putting your jacket up for you. You walk in, the scene intimate, suddenly remembering the lingerie you bought.

“Give me a few minutes,” you smile and run back to your bedroom. You clean up a bit, get yourself dressed and spray on some perfume before you walk out in a silky red robe, and Minho’s brows raise.

“Wow,” he says and you watch his adams apple bob in his throat. You smile at him your heart beat erratic as you slowly step into the room.

“Technically, you don’t get presents till Christmas morning,” you tease, “But I figured in Korea, it’s already Christmas Day.” You walk up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and his hands come to your sides, holding you close as he dips his head down, connecting your lips. Your fingers tangle in his hair and soft moans are exchanged.

You step away from him, slowly undoing your robe revealing the outfit you’d bought earlier that day.

Minho’s breath catches in his throat as he stares at you, and the silk ribbon that leaves little to the imagination. You let the robe fall off your arms into a puddle on the floor.

“Well,” you pause, “Come unwrap your gift,” you smirk as he races over to you, your lips reconnecting in a heated kiss and a soft giggle escapes your lips at his excitement.

Minho’s hands are steady as he looks down, your foreheads together, and he undoes the ribbon, watching it fall off your chest.

He whimpers at how beautiful you look. Truthfully, he’d forgotten just how beautiful you really are and his hands cup your chest, thumbs brushing over your buds as your head falls back, soft moans coming from you.

“Come here,” he says and places you on your back, the heat from the fire place keeping your frame warm.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as his eyes travel down your body, noting the small piece of what the store called ‘underwear’ is covering you. He kisses your lips again, taking his time, worshiping, loving your body as his lips slowly travel down to your jaw then your neck. His teeth graze your skin, drawing goosebumps as his tongue flattens over your skin, a soft moan leaving you. You feel him smirk against your skin as he leaves open mouth kisses down to your collar bone, softly sucking at your flesh. You squirm beneath him as he kisses his way down to your breast, flicking his tongue over the hardened bud. You bite your lip, watching as his mouth closes around it, sucking slightly as he kneads the other with his hand, sending waves of pleasure to your core.

“Min,” you moan. He looks up at you through his lashes, gently biting the sensitive area. You hiss, watching him smirk as he lets go, giving the same kind of attention to the other; not in a rush. Savoring you like you’re his last meal.

He kisses down your stomach, lips dragging against your skin; peppering kisses at your waist line, teasingly. He can see the wet patch on your panties, and he chuckles to himself.

“You want me, don’t you baby?” you nod with your lip between your teeth as you watch him.

“Please,” you beg and Minho closes his eyes at your breathy tone, feeling his pants tent up. He removes his shirt quickly before settling between your legs, kissing up your inner thighs, nipping at the doughy flesh.

Your hips left near his face on instinct, and he hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down and discarding them to the side. His tongue is warm and wet against your core, and you both sigh as he makes contact.

“So good,” he whines into you, nose bumping your clit as he takes a deep breath. His tongue works magically, hitting all the spots that make you tick, watching and listening, figuring out your body; making it his mission to know it like the back of his hand. He smirks as his tongue circles your bud, feeling your hips roll against his face.

“God, Minho,” you gasp as his tongue enters your hole and your back arches off the plush rug underneath you. You grip onto his hair and roll your hips as his tongue goes in and out, tasting- treasuring you.

“Wanna live here,” his voice is muffled against you. His breathing gets ragged as his hips start to grind against the ground, desperate to get friction. His tongue moves to side, adding more a little more pressure, the two of you making eye contact. He reaches for your hand, rubbing circles onto the top of it.

“Minho,” you whimper as you feel the coil tighten in your tummy. He adds two fingers with his other hand, curling them up and he pumps them in and out, quickly matching the speed of his tongue making your head spin.

“Please keep going,” you whine as your hand goes to your breast to stimulate it, causing you to buck your hips as Minho swipes his tongue harder against your clit.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Cum for me, kitten. Cum on my tongue,” he mumbles against you and you cry out as the tightening in your stomach explodes, your body arching as he takes you through it, never stopping or slowing down.

“Such a mess,” he moans into you as he cleans you up. Your hips buck when he brushes your all too sensitive clit. He kitten licks, moaning at the taste and your face flushes.

He hovers himself over you, kissing you; allowing you to taste yourself with his chin and lips still glistening.

“Fuck I want you,” he groans as you palm him through his pants. He pulls back to undo his pants and slide them down along with his boxers. You sit up and your hands reach for him, tongue flattening as you tease his slit.

“Oh fuck,” he moans as his head is thrown back. He moves to sit down, your legs intertwined as he watches you. You pump a few times with your hand, watching him. His eyes flutter close as you squeeze him, teasing the slit once more with your thumb.

“Fuck stop teasing me,” he breathes out a laugh. You oblige, slowly sinking your head down.

You hear Minho sigh and feel his hand come to back of your head, resting in your hair. You swirl your tongue around the head as you come up, sucking on it harshly, causing his hips to buck.

“Fuck if you do that I won’t last,” he growls. You bob your head up and down again, creating a steady pace, Minho’s hips bucking up into you every once and a while. You pump what you can’t fit in your mouth, his moans and groans causing more arousal to puddle between your legs. You moan around him, sending vibrations through his body. He chokes out a moan, head tipping back as you hollow your cheeks and suck faster, desperate to get him to his release.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he whines as you feel him twitch in your mouth.

“God keep going,” he groans as you begin to taste more and more of his salty precum on your tongue.

 “Ah shit, fuck I’m gonna cum.” He says and you moan, encouraging him and he does with a loud groan. He paints your throat a shade of white as his ropes spill down your throat, making you swallow everything, happily.

He gasps for air, chest rising up and down. You giggle at him, seeing his fucked-out expression.

“Something funny?” He asks a playful glint in his eye, and you simply smile at him as he gently tackles you back down to the floor.

“My girl,” he whispers before sliding in slow, eye contact being made the whole time. When he bottoms out the both of you sigh, the feeling other worldly as you feel the stretch and he feels the warmth of your body.

“God this feels perfect,” he whispers in your ear.

“Like you’re made for me,” he says as he starts a slow pace, thrusting slow and deep, making you feel every inch of him. You look into his eyes as he does, bodies and souls connecting as one.

“You take me so well,” he mumbles before planting a kiss on your forehead, resting his forehead on yours as he starts to pick up the pace, causing you to gasp and your mouth to make the ‘o’ shape, your back arching you into him.

“Feel good?” he asks in your ear.

“So good,” you whimper arms coming around his shoulders, nails slightly digging into his skin. His head falls to your shoulder, nipping at it.

“Minho, fuck,” you gasp as he hits your sweet spot hard.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks.

“I wanna ride you, please,” you whimper as you feel him slow down. He gently pulls away from you, only to pull you with him in his lap, helping you position yourself on top, slowly sinking down on him.

You whimper in response, and he holds you close, bare chests touching as you take a moment to get comfortable.

Slowly you grind your hips, bouncing up and down, causing your chest to bounce in his face. The new angle has your world stopping. Time doesn’t exist, life isn’t real and Minho is the only thing keeping your tethered to earth at this point. Quickly you begin to feel the coil in your stomach.

“Fuck you look so beautiful using me like this,” he says before sucking on your chest, one hand coming down to rub your clit making you scream as you hold onto his shoulders.

“Cum for me baby, cum on my cock,” he says and brings you down for a fervent kiss.

“Minho,” you whimper against his lips and Minho’s hand comes up to your throat, squeezing lightly.

“Fuck,” you let out in a high-pitched voice as your body explodes causing you to shake, and Minho thrusts up into you as he notices your rhythm failing as you go through your orgasm. You gasp for air once breathing becomes possible again, and Minho finishes right after you.

You’re both breathing heavily as you come down, sitting together, bodies as one, holding each other.

You hide your face in the crook of his neck, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

“What’s wrong,” he asks, a slight chuckle in his voice.

“Just want you,” you say against his neck.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby girl.” He whispers into your hair as he kisses the top of your head. The two of you sit together for a moment, the low hum of the music creating a nice ambiance. Minho checks the clock and smiles.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” He whispers in your ear. You pick your head up, and look at him slightly confused.

“It’s midnight.” He smiles as he points to clock hanging up on the wall. You turn your head and check it.

“Merry Christmas.” You smile at him before pecking his lips and disconnecting your bodies.

Minho helps you get cleaned up grabbing a towel and warming it with water. Gently wiping between your legs and wiping himself off.

“How about a bath?” you suggest as he slides on his sweat pants.

“Actually, I wanna give you your gift.” He says as he hands you your robe.

“Huh?”

“Well, one of them,” he mentions as he unzips his suit case.

“It can wait till morning.” You try to stop him.

“Actually, it can’t.” he says as he pulls out an envelope and hands it to you.

“What is it?” you smile.

“Open,” he encourages and you pull out a certificate, your heart swelling and your breath catching in your throat.

“Minho,” you whisper as your read the paper. He smiles nervously.

“Come on, we should be able to see it.” He takes your hand carefully, grabbing you a pair of pants and a coat and you step outside into the quiet night. You look up into the sky and see it, your star.

“There, right beside the big dipper handle, you see it? Just beside it, shinning bright.” He points and you smile.

“I can’t believe you had a star named after me.” You whisper as you hug his side and look up at it.

“No matter how far apart we are, we can always be connected through this.” He whispers as he kisses the top of your head.

“Thank you,” you whisper and share a sweet kiss before heading back inside.

The two of you opt for a shower, washing each other off along with the sticky remanence of earlier activities.

In bed the two of you are curled up, staring at each other.

“So what does Christmas day look like?”

“Similar to what we did, but we get to have our own celebration in the morning.” You smile as your thumb rubs his cheek.

“And we get to watch cheesy Christmas movies and make breakfast and just chill the first half of the day.” You explain. He smiles and nods kissing your forehead.

“Good night,” he whispers.

“Good night,” you say and close your eyes.

-

The next morning you wake up to the sound of pots and pans banging together. It’s just past 7am and you slip on your proper pj’s and slippers and quietly watch from door way of the kitchen as Minho tries to figure out your appliances. He’s going back and forth from his phone trying to figure out how to make you something.

You watch as he puts the eggs in a bowl then looks back to his phone. Grabs the bread; back to his phone. Then whisks the egg, back to his phone and repeats the process until he has an egg-soaked piece of bread ready for the frying pan.

“Morning Master Chef,”

“Aish!” he jumps and drops the bread into the pan.

“You scared me,” he says you smile as you walk over to him and look at what he’s doing.

“Nah, no, back!” he says swatting the air with a spatula.

“Woah, what’d I do?”

“Go to the living room, I’ll be there soon.” He motions for you to leave. You smile to yourself as you turn on the tree, noticing a few more gifts under it than what was there when you went to bed.

You quirk a brow but wait for Minho to finish breakfast as you turn on the tv. Not long into A Christmas Story Minho brings out breakfast for the two of you; French toast with syrup and powdered sugar.

“It looks delicious.” You compliment and he watches as you try the food. You moan as the sweet taste hits your tongue. Eyes shutting.

“This is so good,” you assure him and he smiles, feeling relieved he did it right.

“I added some vanilla to the egg mixture for added flavor.” He explains.

“Recipe?”

“Did that one on my own.” He says proudly.

“Thank you, baby,” you smile as the two of you eat and half way watch the movie.

“So, places really do shut down today?”

“Mhm, you’ll see it later when we go to my parents’ house.” You smile.

After breakfast you help Minho clean up the dishes and the two of you sit down in front of the tree.

Minho distributes two boxes your way, and smiles.

“What in the world have you done?” you giggle.

“Just open them and see,” he smiles, innocent excitement taking over. You nod and grab his gift from the back.

“Here’s yours.” You smile and he looks flabbergasted.

“When did you,” he looks up at you confused.

“Yesterday,” you shrug.

“You go first!” you say and motion for him to go. He’s about to argue with you but instead doesn’t fight it and tears the wrapping paper off the box. He opens the box revealing the sleek and stylish watch. He pauses for a moment, emotions trying to get the better of him.

“I remembered how you always wore a watch to class,” you begin, “And I remembered our last night together, I saw it on the night stand and it looked warn. So I found this,” you mention and he doesn’t speak for a moment, shock over taking him.

“If you don’t like it we can take it back and you pick out what you do like,” you ramble and Minho leans over and kisses your lips.

“Shut up, I love it.” He says still in disbelief at the beautiful gift. He carefully takes it out of the box and puts it on.

“It’s beautiful, y/n. Thank you,” he says lowly. You smile, proud of yourself.

“Ok, he says as he blinks his eyes quickly, “You’re turn.”

You pick the box up with the red wrapping paper and undo it, revealing a small box. You open it to see a chain with an ‘M’ initial on it. It has your birthstone in the bottom right corner and his in the upper left. You grin as you hold up letting the light hit the jewels.

“When did you find this?”

“I found it in a shop a month ago, when I started planning my trip here,” he admits, a light blush painting his cheeks.

“You held on to this for that long?”

“Kept it nice and safe, yeah.” He nods.

“It’s beautiful, put it on me?” you ask as you take it out of the box.” He nods and you position yourself on your knees and allow him to drape the jewelry on your neck and he clasps the necklace together.

You smile as you look at the last box. You take the paper off the box and open it, revealing a delicate key.

“What, I have the key to your heart?” You giggle sweetly.

“No, well yes you do, but that’s a key to my house.” He says slowly. Your heart rate speeds up.

“What?” you ask, voice slightly pitched.

“I want you come back with me,” he says as he takes your hand. Your brows raise and your mouth falls open slightly.

“What do you say?”

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[n0rmal-cat]

Centipede x reader

[He knows nothing about love]

He watched as reader walked into their room, he scowled and rubbed the back of his neck.

Why did reader never hang out with him? They had work friends that they see everyday and now spider kept showing up, but not him? He was their roommate for god sake.

Was he…too much? He looked back at their room door with a sigh. “Idiot…” he grumbled.

He went on with his day like normal, he waited till night when he went to work frown still on his face.

It was almost closing hours and all he could do was think about them, he took his wallet out and let out a sigh. It was either this or use it for his collection.

He walked into one of the stores putting on a smile “excuse me ma’am do you mind helping me with something?”

“Is there something wrong?” The woman turned around to face him.

“N-no it’s just eh…what do you get someone you like but don’t know how to tell them.” His face became hot and his eyes drifted away.

“Oh, oh…” she smiled “well chocolate is a nice gift it works for all occasions”

“No, no none of that crap, it need to be special” he waved his hands

“Well what do you want then” she put her hands on her hips.

“I don’t know! Aren’t you supposed to be the expert here?” He asked

“Yeah not a psychic, jeez if you know them so well just get them something they’re like?” She crossed her arms with a humph.

That shut him up alright, what did reader like? Game, music, anime, movies? He had no idea what they were into.

“Wow you actually don’t know? What a great boyfriend you’d make?” She rolled her eyes.

“Now listen here you!- ‘tch’ nevermind” he walked back to his post. Was that why reader didn’t hang out with him, because he didn’t care enough to remember things about them?

He got home in the very early hours of the morning, he was too tired to ever make it to his room so he face planted on the couch.

“You ok?” A voice pulled him out of his tiredness, “reader?” Why were they up at this hour?

“Why are you up don’t you have work soon?” He pushed himself up.

Reader shook their head “nah our boss gave us a day off, though I think it was mostly a break for herself”

He changed his position to be sitting up instead “ah, so what are you going to do?”

“Probably just lay in my bed and eat junk food all day” they smiled

“That’s a good life” “yeah”

“How about you” they asked

“Oh, sleep?” He shrugged “nice”

A comfortable silence fell between them. “Do you one day maybe wanna go see a movie with me, i know you bugs…or me but-ah yeah” he had never felt so flustered in his life.

“I don’t hate you, I was pretty scared at first but spending the time that I have with you guys I think I’m ok now” they paused “and I’d love to watch a movie with you”

“Ok…” he blushed “ok” they said back

[motherofpirates]

And so, the quartet of intrepid adventurers, carried on their mission through the silent skeletal woods, the only sound was of their feet rustling through desiccated leaves that littered the forest floor. The oppressive silence was only broken by the thunder that followed the ominous pink lightning. Eddie narrated to himself as they made their way through the Upside Down. He was totally going to use this experience when writing his next campaign. It was going to be gnarly.

Eddie hummed the last few lines of Under Pressure to himself; it was still going round and round in his head. He was only dimly aware that Steve was next to him as he made sure his clumsy ass didn’t step on the ever-creeping vines, he was sure he could hear their constant wet slithering all the time on the edge of his hearing. He shuddered. Up a head Nancy and Robin were chatting, he kept getting snatches of their conversation. He kept pace with Steve who had slowed, possibly due to the pain in his sides from his wounds.

"Is that Queen you're humming, Munson? Seems a bit tame for you." Steve’s voice broke through Eddie’s revery.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of Bowie or Mercury. This seems apt, Under Pressure and all that." He chuckled.

"Not at all, just didn't expect it to be your bag."

“Freddie Mercury is everyone’s bag, man,” Eddie snorted, wondering if Steve would get his reference about Mercury’s sexuality, “I appreciate good music when I hear it."

“'Cause love's such an old-fashioned word.” Steve began to sing the outro Eddie had hummed a moment ago. He joined in with Steve’s quiet singing, he wasn’t bad, he’d give him that.

“And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night

And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves

This is our last dance

This is our last dance

This is ourselves

Under pressure.”

Eddie’s heart swelled in his chest as warmth flowed through him from the moment he and Steve were sharing. If it weren’t for the backdrop of haunted eldritch forest, it would have been quite heartwarming for anyone looking on. Eddie couldn’t keep the small smile from his face as Steve closed in on Eddie’s personal space their shoulders occasionally glancing off each other as they moved ever forward. Steve was so easy to be with, like the two nights they had spent talking to each other over the walkie. Even if the conversation wasn’t flowing all the time the silence was companionable, safe, almost cosy. Something that Eddie rarely experienced, he had always wanted to fill every silence he had come across. A trait he and Buckley seemed to share. Steve made him feel at ease; in a way he had only ever experienced with Wayne.

Steve smiled at him when they finished singing, it was a shy fragile thing, this smile, small and genuine. It did nothing to help the storm of sparkly butterflies that were buffeting the inside of his stomach. Steve reached out and gently tugged on Eddie’s elbow before letting go, the feel of where his fingers had been remained long after he released Eddie’s elbow.

“I just wanted to say thank you for saving my ass back there, Eddie.” Steve said quietly as he looked at the forest floor.

“Shit, you saved your own ass back there, Ozzy.”

“Ozzy?” Harrington surely wasn’t telling him he didn’t know who the Prince of Darkness was, damn him and his pedestrian music taste.

A laugh escaped him as he explained incredulously. “Yeah, dude, Ozzy Osborn? Frontman of Black Sabbath? Bit a bat’s head off?”

“Nope, never heard of him.” Steve shook his head in a clueless fashion. It was quite endearing really.

“All I’m trying to say is, what you did back there was very metal.” He threw devil horns in the air for emphasis.

“Oh ok, and that’s the highest of compliments you could pay me?”

“Sure, man, comparing you to the Prince of Darkness himself, that’s metal as fuck.” Jesus this dude was such a square.

“Uh, thanks.”

“Henderson told me you were a badass. Insisted on the matter in fact.” Eddie laughed at the memory; they were in the middle of a campaign and the Party were trying to figure out their next move when Henderson piped up with “what would Steve do?” Eddie had asked “Steve who?”. Henderson had gone on to explain, nay insist, that it was actually Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington who he was referring to as he was a complete badass. Sinclair had nodded his agreement, whilst Baby Wheeler had rolled his eyes. Eddie had simply refused to believe him at the time. As if the Steve Harrington was friends with these freshmen twerps and he picked them up from hellfire meets. Sinclair had swore that Henderson had an elaborate nerdy handshake that he did with him. Sounded completely made up if you asked him. The night Eddie had found out about the new sheepies friendship with Harrington he, Jeff, Gareth and Daryl had followed them out into the parking lot and witnessed for themselves the dork-tastic handshake Harrington willingly indulged Henderson in. His friends and he had spent the next half an hour attempting to scrape their jaws off the floor. That was what ignited Eddie's interest in the conundrum that was Steve Harrington into something more than a vague crush.

Now though, was a whole other matter. This dude was a metal as fuck monster fighter, who looked out for and protected his friends and a bunch of smart mouthed kids. He was compassionate, kind and interesting.

“Henderson said that?” Steve looked at him in disbelief. Eddie wondered who had robbed this lovely man of all his self-belief, Robin was doing a piss poor job being his best friend if Harrington didn’t think he was a good guy.

“Oh, shit, yeah. Kid worships you dude. Like you have no idea, it’s kinda annoying, if I’m honest. I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, but, uh, I think I got a little jealous, Stevie.” He gave a fleeting glance at Steve to see if he was listening, Steve was mirroring Eddie’s shy look, his gaze brushed over Eddie’s lips. Heat rushed to Eddie’s cheeks; he was weirdly thankful to the Upside Down for the perpetual gloaming that disguised his blushes. “I guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. Rich parents, popular, chicks love him. Not a douche? No way, man, no way. That, like, flies against all the laws in the universe and my own personal Munson doctrine.” Steve was looking quietly at the ground with a puzzled look on his face.

Eddie leant further into Steve’s personal space with a grin to whisper, as he tried to catch his eye, “Still jealous as hell by the way.” Steve used his elbow to nudge Eddie out of his face. Hurtful. Maybe he wasn’t particularly tactile. Unlike Eddie, Eddie always liked to be touching the people he liked and was close to. He knew some people were the opposite of him and found it overwhelming. Maybe Steve was just one of them. Other than the playful slaps and elbows Steve and Robin exchanged, they didn’t seem particularly tactile, and she was his best friend, the person he was closest to. Maybe he reserved close to touch for the people he was seeing. That made Eddie’s heart sink. Trust him to get a crush on a straight guy when the world was ending.

“There were two reasons I came in here.” Eddie carried on, “one was because those two ladies had no hesitation about following your ass as it got dragged down to the bottom of a lake. They love you, dude, I don’t know if it’s platonic or what for Wheeler, but she didn’t even hesitate for a second and neither did Buckley. And two, I followed them down here because you, Steve Harrington, are a good guy who deserved the help of his friends. You inspire bravery in others. Usually, when I see danger I’m outta there, ingrained from years of bullying.” They had stopped walking now with the intensity of their conversation. Steve was looking longingly over at Wheeler, but when he turned his gaze to Eddie he was once again solely focused on his mouth as he spoke before flicking his eyes up to Eddie’s to gaze at him coyly through his eyelashes. Talk about mixed signals. “But getting to know you over the past few days, sweetheart, has made me want to change that. I want to turn and face the things that scare me. Protect the people that have fought to help me and earn the admiration of that egotistical little shrimp, Henderson.” Steve continued to hold his gaze, the moment began to crackle with a potential that made Eddie’s breath catch in his throat. It was unlucky for them that at that moment they were interrupted by another tremor that knocked the pair off their feet and into a tangled mess on the ground. Luckily for Steve he had landed on Eddie which had broken his fall. Unfortunately for Eddie he received Steve’s elbow to the ribs which made him cough and splutter as it winded him. Eddie recovered and got up first, but it seemed like Steve was really struggling with the pain from the bat bites and appeared to find it difficult to stand.

Eddie held a hand out for him to take but he knocked it away, "You guys go on without me, I'll wait here until I get some energy back and then either meet you at Nancy's or wait here for you."

"Stevie, that's a terrible idea. This place doesn't let you build up energy after a rest, even I can feel that, and I haven't been injured. It seems to leech the energy out of you. You're coming even if I have to carry you bridal style." Steve gave him an incredulous look. Eddie realised that Steve thought of himself as expendable, he thought he wasn’t worth waiting for. It made him want to cry. Wayne had spent years making sure that Eddie felt valued and worthy of love and he wasn’t half the man Steve was. Here he was trying to sacrifice himself so that they could get home. “Stevie,” he whispered, kneeling down so that he could look Steve in the eye, “you are not a burden, nor are you expendable, you are an integral part of this party. The heart of it. They can’t function without you. Now I’m either helping you up or I’m gonna carry you, which would you rather?”

“Fine, Munson, fine.” Steve bit out slinging an arm over Eddie’s shoulder.

“Easy does it, princess.” He grunted helping take Steve’s weight as he stood.

“You didn’t need to do that, Eddie.” Steve complained softly.

“Yeah, I did. Couldn’t leave you behind. I’m rather fond of having all my limbs and Robin would have dismembered me if I left you here.”

“Ah, I see, you’re only helping me because you’re afraid of Robin.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle.

“You keep telling yourself that, Stevie. It couldn’t be because I genuinely like you, and want to help you out, you ridiculous ex-jock.” He huffed, even though being this close to Steve made his heart race. Steve opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by Robin.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you liked the snippet it from a WIP of mine called Leave a Light on For Me on AO3. You can use the link above to find it

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66010321/chapters/170085310

[crimson-cathedral]

—Lucifer Comforts You On Your Period—

—Lucifer x f!reader (or afab. There is no gender specific language)

—word count: 1,329

— Tags: hurt/comfort, smut, gentle sex, clothed sex, clit rubbing? (Idk what the proper term is), very little blood mentioned.

—Summary: Lucifer comforts you on your period by bringing you chocolate among other things and offers to get you off hoping that will be a nice distraction.

Lucifer opened the door to your shared bedroom to find you curled up in one of his fuzzy duck-pattered blankets. "You hanging in there?" Lucifer asked, setting down the plethora of things he had brought you. He may have gone a little over board but it's better to be safe than sorry. 

"I feel like a live animal had crawled it's way into my body and is trying to exit via my stomach, Every bone in my body hurts, I'm sad one moment, laughing the next, I cried this morning over spilling my water, I'm horny cause why the fuck not, I want to throw myself out a window and I want to smite God for doing this to me. So yeah I'm 'hanging in there'." You bite sarcastically, rolling away from him. You know he just asked a perfectly normal question but it couldn't help but piss you off. 

"Okaayyyyy so not great…and let's not do the last two…I would know." Lucifer says awkwardly. "Anything I can do? I brought a bunch of stuff. Like uh, plushies, chocolate, more blankets, heating pads oh and lots of movies. Any of that sound nice?" Lucifer asks, his large eyes looking at you hopefully. 

"I'll take the chocolate…." You say, slightly sitting up to take it from him. You weren't normally a fan of the specific kind he gave you but it felt like heaven on your tongue. 

"Good?" He asks, happy that he was able to help. 

"Mmhm" You mumble through a mouthful.

"Ok great,. You said you were in pain sooo maybe some Advil?" 

"Doesn't help." You grumble.

"Ok...-Wait did you say you were horny?" Lucifer asked as if it was just now loading. 

"Oh did I?" You ask, a slight blush painting your cheeks. You hadn't payed much attention to your own complaints, simply throwing everything out there that you could think of. 

Lucifer averted his gaze, moving his hand to rub the back of his neck. "I mean-If you want I can uh help." 

You flush harder, burying your face in your hands. "Ew, it would be like, gross and messy." 

Lucifer slowly lays on the soft comforter next to you, using his delicate fingers to gently pull your hands away. "It's not gross,—well to me at least. And besides, if you're self conscious about it you don't even have to take your clothes off. I can just slip my fingers right under here." Lucifer says with a small smile, teasing his fingertips along the edge of your waistband. 

"Y-you don't have to…" You try to argue but it's halfhearted. Taking your mind off things if only for a bit sounds nice. 

"No, I don't, but I want to, I like making you feel good, especially when you're in pain." Lucifer leans in to gently kiss your lips, soft and chaste. It almost seems like there's no hunger or lust behind it at all, simply tender affection. Lucifer pulls back, crimson eyes looking into your own, filled with love. 

His hands run up your sides, dipping under the fabric of your sleep shirt, thumbing the undersides of your breasts. You hadn't worn a bra today because you just felt too sensitive, so the feeling of his bare skin of yours makes you sigh. 

He moves his hands up to gently cup them, simply holding them, no urgency to his touch. Its not groping or meant to be arousing—or at least you assume, simply holding, comforting. You find yourself relaxing, your eyes fluttering closed. 

"There you go, just relax I'll take care of you, promise." Lucifer whispered reassuringly. 

"You feel his fingers trail back down over your ribs and past your stomach to your waistband again. They pause, taking their time trailing along it lightly, sending shivers down your spine at the ticklish and intimate touch. 

They finally sink under, easily finding their way to your clit. Lucifer normally enjoyed teasing you but this time he seemed solely focused on pleasuring you. Lucifer smiled as he began to rub small soothing circles with his pointer and middle finger. 

Warmth blooms in your core as you buck your hips up into his touch for more. He obliges pressing his fingers firmer as his other gently cards though your hair. 

As he does, Lucifer leans over to whispers praises into your ear. You're doing so good. There you go. You're so beautiful like this. Tumble from his lips and small gasps as whines fall from yours. 

Your head tosses back, hair splaying out of place as his fingers speed up, urging you closer and closer to your peak. 

"Lucifer-" You quietly gasp, unable to get much else out.

Lucifer's eyes gently light up at his name on your lips. "There you are, let go for me my love." 

You feel the warmth that had been pooling in your gut finally spill over at the unsuspecting pet name. Lucifer looks down, attentive to your every movement. The way you clutch at your hair, the way your eyes screw shut, the way your back arches, the way your teeth clench tight instead of gasping like you would expect.

He works you though it, continuing to rub gentle circles into you clit until you began to squirm from overstimulation. He slipped his fingers out and you noticed that were slightly more red than usual. You cringe at the sight, preparing for his reaction to having remnants of your literal period blood on his fingers but it never came. He simply reached for the wet wipes he had brought. 

"See no mess." He said when he saw your face, cleaning his fingers off easily. "It's not that big of deal." 

"Y-yeah, I guess." You say looking away.

"It's really not, especially when you think about it. I know society want you to think it's taboo, gross, unattractive and to be hidden away but it's just misogyny. If guys had them it would be seen as cool and manly cause you're like, bleeding. But at the end of the day it's just blood, unless you have hemophobia it's not a big deal." Lucifer says attempting his best comforting expression. 

"Yeah I guess you're right." You say returning his smile.

"Ok good, 'cause I didn't have another awesome-accepting-boyfriend speech planned." Lucifer replies with an awkward laugh. 

"You planned that? Oh come here you goofball." You say pulling him close to you, wrapping you both tight in the blanket. 

"What, you think I could think of that on the spot? I'm not God or something." Lucifer's laugh turns genuine as he nuzzles into your neck, inhaling the smell of your shampoo and something else that was distinctly…you.

"Good cause I'm still going to smite that guy for doing this to me. All loving my ass. Not even the Satan would curse half of the population with pain that can be worse than a heart attack ever month for no fucking reason." 

"Ookkkayyy." Lucifer said awkwardly. "I get where you're coming from but let's not go starting wars with heaven willy-nilly." 

"Humph." You say with an over-dramatic pout.

"I know, I'm sorry you can't start a war against God." Lucifer says comfortingly but you can hear the amused smirk in his voice.

"Don't mock me." You huff, softly pushing him away. 

"I'm not, I just think it's cute when you're cranky." Lucifer replied, his head tilted adorably.

"I'm not cranky." You retort.

"Yes you are." He teases.

"Fuck you." You throw back. 

"Love you too." Lucifer says pulling you into a hug and attacking you with kisses. 

You giggle as he kisses your neck. "H-h-he-y that t-tickles!" 

After a few more pecks he finally relents. "Are you feeling any better?" 

"Yeah a bit, thank you. I just like cuddling here with you." You say gently.

"I'll gladly stay, you've got me as long as you'll take me." Lucifer says with a smile. 

"Well that means forever." 

"Then forever it is, my love."

[bingleboy]

Hey there

*slides some lint, buttons and a very bent paperclip*

do you think you could do all Merc’s headcanon about what they would do for a nightly routine (maybe with the reader I dunnoooo 😋).

*flutters eyelashes cutely*

NO WAY DUDE I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS EXACT THING BEFORE..... GET OUT OF MY FREAKING HEAD

♡ TF2 Night Routines Headcanons ♡

Written as if they are in a romantic relationship with reader :3 teehee, all SFW. sleeping together but not SLEEPING together you freak

(under a read more just bc there's a lot)

⚾️ Scout ⚾️

Usually hates going to bed, even when he’s really tired. Just laying down and doing nothing is so boring. His mind wanders a lot, keeping him awake anyways.

He doesn’t always brush his teeth and wash his face before bad. He’ll do it more if you point it out though, or do it with him. He doesn’t really care if he’s gross, but he cares about what you think.

For pajamas, he wears a white tank top and red plaid pants. It's a classic

When you’re not there, he’ll stay up drawing, reading comics (looking at the pictures), or checking himself out in the mirror until he’s so tired he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Oh, but if you’re there, it’s great!

Doing all those things is so much more enjoyable with company. Even if you’re not as hyper as him, he likes that you listen to him. Gives him that warm tingly feeling inside.

He's used to sharing his space, so there won't even be an awkward phase when you sleep over for the first time, just jumps right into it

If you get tired earlier than him, he might groan and tell you to stay up later so you can have more time together, but he feels bad when he sees you looking exhausted. In the end he sucks it up and goes to bed earlier. He definitely thinks you’re cute when you’re tired, he would tease you a bit about it.

Time for cuddles baby

He insists on being the big spoon if there is any spooning to be done. He likes putting his chin on your shoulder to press his cheek to yours and holding you tight.

(Maybe he'll let you be the big spoon if you've been dating a while. And if you swear not to tell anyone about it.)

Other times during cuddles, it’s not really a certain position, you’re just tangled together. As long as his arms are around you, he’s happy.

Cuddling with you definitely helps him sleep. Instead of his mind wandering to stuff that would stress him out, he’s just thinking about you and how nice and warm you are.

🥪 Heavy 🥪

Goes to bed relatively early. He has shit to do in the morning, and he is a responsible man who needs his sleep.

If you stay up late, he will not-so-subtly suggest you go to bed earlier too. He cares about your health, and if that means dragging you to bed, then so be it.

Ok he wouldn't literally drag you, but he would make you feel guilty for making him go to bed by himself

"Oh, is fine.... just me and Sasha again tonight..."

For his pajamas, I imagine a nice basic long-sleeve shirt with a collar and pants, maybe with stripes. I think he'd like to be cozy

Man is tidy. Face washed, teeth brushed, pajamas on. It's nothing fancy, but he has a good routine.

Most definitely reads before bed, he's an intellectual. He prefers reading Russian literature just to relax. It's always like a thick-ass book with a dusty cover on it

Idk if this is canon or not but I think he deserves to wear little reading glasses. It would be so cute guys come on

If you ask him to read out loud or to share the book with you, he'll be very endeared by that. Knowing that you want to share it with him is really sweet, and of course he'll read to you

You're cozied up next to him in bed while reading, maybe with some hot chocolate or tea :] AWWW

He loves it if you fall asleep resting against him, like with your head on his shoulder of his chest

He also loves it if you fall asleep first, because he finds it cute. He'll gently set his book down and turn off the bedside lamp before settling down beside you with a sleepy smile.

🔥 Pyro 🔥

Pyro looks forward to going to bed! They don't have a particular time they go to bed, but they have no problem relaxing, especially when you're there

They do take their mask off to brush their teeth and wash their face, but they will not do it in front of you. It’s not that they don’t trust you, it just feels like a private moment to them

Their pajamas could be one of two options: the blue striped pajama set + nightcap combo OR a soft onesie. My first thought was a unicorn onesie, but really there's many animal possibilities here

See "Cat's Pajamas":

When they sleep is pretty much the only time they take off their mask. It would definitely take a lot of trust for them to show their face to you

Even when they get comfortable being "bare" in front of you, they tend to be more quiet when their mask is off, like they're not used to their words being unmuffled by it. They talk softly, which is actually very comforting

After the self-care and changing is done, they go back to their room, light a scented candle, then tuck their many plushies into bed. If you’re sleeping over, you’ll be lined up with them and getting tucked in too, no way around it.

Pyro would slide into bed with you, getting cozy with the blanket up to their shoulders and turn to you.

They’re a cuddler, usually, but they really just like a simple hug facing you. Facing away from you while cuddling just feels weird.

They like listening to you talk about your day, nodding along as you speak. They might fiddle with your hair or the edge of your pajama shirt too

Now is also a good opportunity for them to talk and actually be understood! They like telling you about their day too

I think they would usually fall asleep first :]

🗡 Spy 🗡

Definitely has a velvety soft maroon robe to wear in the evenings, and besides that, it’s a silk pajama set with matching slippers. Obviously. He would tolerate nothing less.

If you're really getting serious, he'll offer you a matching robe. He's so extra he'd get your robe like embroidered with your initials on it

Yay, you get to see him with his mask off!!!

He likes to spend a long while relaxing before even getting into bed, like drinking tea or wine while reading in front of the fireplace

He takes a lot of care into making sure you're comfortable too

He's not personally into face masks or that beauty-centered self-care stuff, but he finds it endearing if you are, and will supply you with only the best products to use

He likes seeing the difference between your 'professional' self and your relaxed self when it's just the two of you. It reminds him that what you two have is special

Speaks French more often while you're winding down. He'll usually translate for you if you ask, but sometimes he'll tease you by refusing to

He's more comfortable giving affection than receiving it, though he's good at hiding that under the guise of just being a generous lover

He'd give a killer shoulder massage if you're tense. He feels proud when he can make you melt into the bed

He's not super cuddly, but he does still enjoy it if you are. He prefers sleeping on his back, so he likes to put an arm around you while you lean into his side

He could fall asleep first if he wanted to, but he keeps himself awake until he's sure you're asleep

He snores a little bit guys. It's not that bad, really, but, it is noticeable

🎯 Sniper 🎯

Just sleeps in his black boxer briefs. It’s comfortable.

Okay, if you're around (depending on how long you've been together), he might be a little more shy and wear pajama pants, but still no shirt

(biased bc i wanna see his chest teehee)

Similarly to Spy, he likes to spend his evening relaxing. He's outside on his plastic lawnchair sippin' a cold beer with the boys

He doesn't have a set time for going to bed, he'll go to bed when you do. When you're not around, I'd say 10pm is the average

He'd usually prefer sleeping in his van to sleeping in the base, just because of the noise of the others, but he finds staying in your room kind of nice too. He likes poking around your things, it's sort of like looking into your head

Wherever you sleep, he fucking loves a little bit of ambience to fall asleep to, like crickets or rain on the roof. If those aren't present, maybe the radio playing quietly

He likes holding you while cuddling, but if you want to hold him, he's kind of shook. He didn't know that was an option

He likes being held by you when it's time to sleep though. Let him put his head on your chest and he will pass out

Especially if you pet his hair?!?!?! ITS OVER

May or may not drool on you a little bit

🔧 Engineer 🔧

Wears an old t-shirt and boxers/ boxer briefs. Also a good robe and slippers enjoyer, but he usually wears those when he gets up the next morning

SILLY HEART BOXERS

He does get wrapped up in work/tinkering with things for fun, but I think he would get tired towards 10/11pm, so he's not too bad about staying up too late

He'll also go to bed sooner if you do, no questions asked. He greatly prefers going to bed together

That also means he will insist you go to bed when he does

Won't leave you alone until you agree to go to bed. Very firm on his stance, crossed arms and everything

He likes literally going through your routine together, like sharing the bathroom while washing your face and brushing your teeth :] he likes that sort of domestic comfort

He also really like seeing you in your pajamas, whatever you choose to wear. You're so pretty/handsome when you don't even try

I don't think he would usually read before bed, he wants to give his brain a little break

He'd unwind by having a soft conversation with you as you two settled into bed, go over the day and maybe make some plans for tomorrow

He always compliments you.

"You did a real good job out there today, sweetheart. You've earned some shut-eye. Sweet dreams, darlin'."

Yeah this guy fucking cuddles

Let him be the big spoon he deserves it

He logically knows you're not small or weak, you certainly don't need his protection, but like... when he holds you he just gets that warm feeling of protecting someone he loves. Like, you're safe. :] D'AWWWW

💉 Medic 💉

Also a contender for the striped pajamas + sleeping cap combo. If not that, he would wear a nice button-up pajama set.

You would think he would have a good routine since he understands order is important, but... no. No, he doesn't.

He goes to bed at wildly varying times, from between 9pm to 4am, depending on how tired the day made him and how much "important work" he has to get done

One thing he puts more care into though is the night routine for his doves. He feeds them their seed and pets their little heads before he closes the cage up for the night. He kind of thinks of it as saying goodnight to his children, and it definitely makes him smile

He has a bad habit of falling asleep at his desk. Come get your man please, he's getting back problems

💜 Miss Pauling 💜

Okay, a lot of the time she falls asleep in her day clothes. Sometimes she actually wears a nightgown- light pink, long, loose and comfy.

She finally lets her hair down and she looks so cute when she's tired (which is unfortunately a lot)

By god, does this woman need sleep.

She pushes aside her own self-care for work stuff often, but she does try to at least brush her teeth every night

By the nature of her job and just her own personality, it can be hard to relax. She's always planning ahead and thinking of the next thing. She might definitely needs your help

This would happen once in a blue moon, but her ideal night time routine is finally taking an evening to fully relax with you

Bath, scented candles, face masks, painting nails, all of it

Well, actually minus painting nails because it wouldn't last long anyway. But all the other stuff!!!

She'd also enjoy cuddling with you on the couch while watching a movie and munching on buttered popcorn. I think she can appreciate a fun rom-com, but she usually prefers more gritty action movies. She would love Mad Max I know it

More often what happens is she comes home late, groans while she kicks her shoes off, brushes her teeth, and flops into bed where you already are

At least she still gets her cuddles

🇺🇸 Soldier 🇺🇸

Sleeps in his US flag boxers and that's it

Has an alarm set for 9 o'clock, at which IT IS TIME TO GET READY FOR BED MAGGOT

you do have to go to bed at the same time as him, he is yelling at you

you take turns brushing you teeth and flossing at the sink so he can (lovingly) yell at you through that too

He's being motivational!!

"THAT'S IT SOLDIER, I WANNA SEE SMALL CIRCLES!! SMALL CIRCLES!! BARE YOUR TEETH LIKE A REAL AMERICAN"

another alarm at 10 o'clock when you should be FIRMLY tucked in

You know how kids pretend their bed is like a fortress or a castle they need to protect? I think he's like that but for real

You will be getting aggressively tucked in and kissed on the forehead

"GOODNIGHT CUPCAKE!!!!!!!!!!!"

He's okay with cuddling or not, but it's very black and white. Either he is beside you, stiff as a board, or wrapped around you leaving no possible escape

Either way, he doesn't move much in his sleep

Snores. Loudly. :(

Also wakes up at the asscrack of dawn, so look forward to that

💥 Demoman 💥

For pajamas, he wears a t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, very comfy

He likes being involved and helping with your routine if he can, like fixing you tea to drink together or brushing your hair for you

He'll shower you in compliments! YOU ARE SO STINKIN' CUTE LAD/LASS

Of course, there are plenty of nights when he is entirely too drunk to go through his routine

You can try to lug him to the bathroom and help him brush his teeth, but he is gonna be laughing and leaning on you, making it very difficult

The cuddling he likes is like. One of you is just a blanket for the other one

He really doesn't mind whether its him or you on top, he just likes it ok. It's nice when you're on top because he can rub his hands over your back

If he's drunk, he may be exhausted but he will still be yapping for a good 15 minutes

Sober demo: gentle, soothing cuddles :]

Drunk demo: vice grip you are never fucking escaping

Also lots of kisses on your face, drunk or sober

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it :]

[csn-ily]

SUFFOCATE

PAIRING j.wy x gn!reader

WORD COUNT 1.3k~

GENRE fluff!! + sleepover + friends to ? + unusual way to ‘confess’ but not rly + silly friends in love but they don’t actually know they’re in love, honestly i think wooyo knows but yn doesn’t

WARNINGS none tbh, yn swears in their head twice i think, kissing (guys they make out ok), idk im sorry this is my first time writing anything, they don’t rly talk it out so ig its an open ending ? this was supposed to be a shorter one idk what i did wrong.

a/n: sorry for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language. also this may or may not be based off of a dream i had about me n a friend… uhm.. enjoy!

sorry, not proofread, i got sleepy heh

the once almost-empty floor of your living room was now covered in rows of thick blankets and pillows. the sleepover you had planned with your friends finally made its way out of the groupchat and into reality. now that the makeshift bed was all set for the night, everyone had gradually drifted towards the kitchen to make the snacks.

well, everyone except you.

sometime during the making of the ‘bed’, you had finished up on one end and crawled your way underneath the blankets, covering yourself entirely. it was really all nice and cozy until you felt a heavy weight land on top of you, pinning shut the only hole you had left for ventilation. suddenly it was getting too hot and hard to breathe. you tried pushing your arms upward to bring the blankets off your face, but to no avail. whoever was on top of you was really set on capturing you in the blanket.

meanwhile, the muffled sounds of your distress was going unnoticed by everyone else in the room. their passionate discussion on whether a turtle without its shell is naked or homeless was seemingly more important than the ongoing murder attempt.

seeing as your ‘murderer’ was using their hands to hold down the blanket, you pushed your hands down towards your waist where you could feel their legs caging you in. a loud yelp sounded above you. and while you had your suspicions from the beginning, the telltale squeak in his voice just solidified it.

“if you don’t get off me right now, wooyoung, i’ll-” your words were cut short when his weight suddenly shifted and was now distributed over your torso. the groan that left you was no louder than the sound of his giggles echoing above you. he laid his head on your chest and nuzzled his face down into the blanket.

“hmm? you’ll what?” his words were muffled into the fabric, but you heard him nonetheless.

“i swear, i’m gonna..” this time your words trailed off for a different reason. mid sentence, you realized he had finally let go of the blanket. taking the opportunity before he realized anything; you hurriedly pulled the blanket off your face, wrapped your legs around his, and shifted your weight around so that it was now him trapped underneath you. his eyes shut as his back met the floor and a soft puff of air left his lips. your hands quickly fumbled across the blanket to pin down his arms by his head.

finally having escaped the torture and wildly unsure of what to do next, you were just sat on top of his stomach, catching your breath. his eyes slowly opened and for a good minute he just blinked up at you. but slowly, amusement rose in his eyes and you could tell he was fighting back a smirk. your eyes narrowed. what the hell is he thinking about this time…

what you hadn’t realized yet was that as you went to pin down his arms, you had unknowingly leaned down over him. and thus, your position was in no way going to look appropriate to anyone who was to walk into the room.

“are you sure this is what you were going to do? ‘cause to me, this doesn’t seem all too bad,” the teasing tone in his voice just made you even more confused.

“huh?” now it was your turn to just blink down at him. how is it not bad to be rendered useless underneath someone else?

“huh,” your eyebrows furrowed together as a frown covered your face. when he just smiled in response to that, you huffed out a breath and rolled your eyes. you loosened your grip on his arms the slightest bit and he tugged them towards himself. your balance faltered and you had to let go of his arms to catch yourself from crashing face first into him.

his breath hitched as ur arms landed beside his head as you effectively caged him in once again. it was not until you felt his soft breaths on your face that you realized; his face is just inches away from mine. and fuck- his lips look so plump. i wonder if they’re as soft as they look. if i just lean a little bit closer i could-

as if it wasn’t bad enough that you were in such a compromising position, you were now fantasizing about kissing your friend? how great. immediately following the realization you could feel the heat creeping up on your face, and you scrambled to get up off him.

before you could actually go anywhere, you felt his hands tug you back down and his arms wrapped around your waist to hold you in his lap. his chin landed on your shoulder as he hugged you towards himself.

while it wasn’t unusual for wooyoung to be so affectionate, it was definitely sending your brain into overdrive today. your heart was beating out of your chest and you were almost sure he felt it. he hugged you harder against himself before he pulled back. your eyes were now squeezed shut, just hoping he’d let you go before your brain actually melts.

you knew he wouldn’t do that, but what you would never have expected was the overly wet kiss he planted on your cheek. it felt like a lick from a dog to be honest. your eyes shot open and you stared at him in disbelief. he was grinning, clearly proud of himself, but the nervous twitch of the corners of his lips let you know he was actively overthinking his choices.

your hands came up to softly grab his face and you wet your lips in preparation for revenge. his eyes were looking intently at your face before they trailed down to your lips and stayed there. you turned his face away from you and his eyes fluttered shut, your grip on him soft as to not hurt him.

your closed your eyes as you leaned in. less than a hairs width away from successfully getting your revenge when you felt him turn his head back towards you. once again, you realized it all too late. your lips met his as his grip on your waist tightened. he hesitantly deepened the kiss, waiting to see if you’d kiss him back.

completely dumbfounded, you pulled back. you wiped your saliva off your lips with the edge of your sleeve as your eyes scanned his face, looking for an explanation. his eyes were half-lidded and simply fixed on your lips. he swallowed once, completely lost in his own thoughts.

“wooyoung, what was-” no more words could leave your lips before you heard a soft “please,” and his hands hurriedly left your waist to hold your face and pull you into a proper kiss. a surprised whimper sounded in the back of your throat, but you kissed him back nonetheless. once you did, you could feel him smiling into the kiss.

your lips were moving together in such a way it had you both lost in the feeling, completely forgetting where you were. at some point one of his hands had traveled back down to hold your waist while the other was resting on your thigh. your legs were straddling his as your hands were tangled in his hair. it wasn’t until your fingers pulled softly at his locks, eliciting a soft groan from him, that you were brought back to the reality of it.

“woo?” you pulled back slowly to whisper his name. he opened his eyes to look at you like you’d just delivered him the worst news of his life.

“more,” he tried to lean back into a kiss, not nearly having had enough, but your hands squishing his cheeks together stopped him. a pout made its way onto his face, and you giggled. you pressed a final soft kiss onto his lips as an apology and a soft smile made its way onto his face as he looked at you.

right as he opened his mouth to say something the increasing sound of your friends’ voices told you they were making their way back to the living room and thus cut him short. you panicked, glanced towards the hallway, then when you finally looked at him it was not looking good. his hair was all over the place, cheeks all blushed, eyes glazed over, and his lips deliciously swollen and red from the kissing.

“oh no…” you whispered as you hurriedly reached out to smooth out his hair. while you did so he just admired your face, in absolutely no hurry to hide from the rest of his friends.

—

“guys, what snacks do you- oh, is youngie asleep already? yn, pull the blanket off his face at least, he might suffocate like that.”

oh, if only you knew, seonghwa.

© csn-ily 2025