#I feel full so full about to burst CONSTANTLY

[nathaslosthershit]

Emotional Times (OP81)

Summary: Pregnancy was a time full of hardships. Hormones on high, stress of the incoming baby, and all the sudden changes were what this father-to-be was expecting, ready to face. What he wasn't expecting was having to battle his pregnant wife's newfound sensitivity to everything that could have her emotions changing in an instant Part of my summer event!

It has been a rough time in the Piastri household. Oscar loves his wife, he really does, and god, would he move heaven and earth for her. In her current state though, she doesn’t know whether she wants heaven or earth and if he brings her the wrong one she will burst into tears, but if he brings her the right one, she will also burst into tears.

There wasn’t any winning. During moments like that, he just had to remember that greener grass on the other side. The other side where he finally has his own little family. 

The couple had also both made peace with the fact he would be traveling a lot during the season and she would have to spend some of her pregnancy by herself. It was easy while she could travel in the beginning but a few complications cut her ability to do so off much sooner than the two would have liked. And she did not like this. 

“Honey, please, get back in bed.” Oscar begged at 5 am. He was ready to head off to his next race, when he unintentionally woke his very pregnant wife up after giving her a kiss on the forehead.

This made her frustrated, she had finally gone to sleep after spending so much of the night tossing and trying to turn and the minute she drifts off he has the audacity to-

Then she realized he kissed her on the forehead because he was leaving her. 

Now, she was holding onto him by the front door, in absolute tears at the thought she would have to do another race weekend alone.

“Please, my love. It absolutely breaks my heart to leave you but I have no choice. Don’t make this harder for me…” Oscar tried to reason with her, but he was on the brink of tears himself seeing how much she wanted him to stay, realizing how much he wanted to stay. But he couldn’t.

“Oscar, I can’t do it, please it's so hard being here all alone. I know it's cliché but I can’t even tie my shoes. How am I supposed to do anything? How am I supposed to take care of a baby when I can’t take care of myself?”

He knew she wasn’t trying to guilt him into staying or make him feel bad if he did leave. These were real concerns she had voiced before. But he felt so helpless in this moment, almost as helpless as she felt constantly. 

The realization hit him, he couldn’t leave her like this. It was unfair to both of them. He had to do something.

“I will figure something out, don’t worry, Honey. Go back to sleep and when you wake up it will be much better, I promise.” He really shouldn’t promise that when he didn’t have a plan, but he couldn’t come up with one while she was sobbing into his neck and holding on for dear life.

With a few hiccups and a small nod, he wiped her tears and gave her a kiss as he left the apartment. 45 minutes later than he would have liked, hopefully the group he was sharing the jet with didn’t leave him behind. 

She already felt better when she woke up, having gotten hours of sleep, finally. It felt so good to wake up well rested and without that many aches. Nothing could bring her mood down.

Except when she couldn’t get in touch with her husband.

She knew he was traveling, that the minute his plane landed he was off to start preparing for the upcoming race. But no calls and no messages soured her mood real fast. 

She tried to shake it off, she went about her day trying not to dwell on it, trying not to send him threatening messages for not answering her the second she texted him. 

A call woke her up the next morning, well it was noon but she still wasn't pleased. Not till she saw who was calling.

“Oh sweetheart! How are you?” Nicole Piastri asked.

If there was one person she loved almost as much as her husband, it was his mother.

“I’m okay, haven’t heard from Oscar much, that asshole.” she grumbled.

“Oh I remember the days, that's why I have my twitter afterall.” Nicole said, making her laugh. It was sometimes a wonder how her husband was Nicole’s son. 

“Yeah well i-”

“Oh crap, honey, I have to go! But I’ll see you soon, okay? Hang tight!” Nicole said before hanging up.

She didn’t have time to dwell on the abrupt end to the call as a knock came from the front door. Connecting the two, she wobbled as fast as she could to the door, where her mother-in-law stood. 

And then she burst into tears.

“Oh, he told me you were going to do that but I didn’t know it would be that immediate,” Nicole said as she went to hug her. 

Through the tears and snot, she asked “Oscar? What do you mean?”

“He said he texted you, gosh, he is the worst at communication for someone who spends so much time on his phone,” she frowned at her daughter-in-law.

Quickly opening her texts, she saw he had messaged her a few hours ago:

Oscar: I told you I had a plan, just a few more hours, my love. I can’t wait to see you in a few days :) 

Thus the mother and daughter-in-law started their girls weekend. My god, it was exactly what she needed. As much as she loved her husband, this was 1000 times better than what she would have done if he was here. And despite how much she missed him, the weekend seemed to fly by. 

Oscar: How is she? I am only half an hour away.

Nicole: Currently napping, but she has been good! Relaxed and happy. Hasn’t even cried in the past few days

Oscar: Wow, I am almost offended she didn’t miss me more?

Nicole: She needed girl time, you couldn’t give that to her sweetheart. She also needed someone who actually knew how to correctly do laundry.

Oscar: Alright, mum, nice talking to you. I'll be back soon, please don’t turn my wife against me.

Nicole: 😉

Just as he did when he was leaving, Oscar unintentionally woke his pregnant wife up when kissing her on the forehead. Unlike when he was leaving, she didn’t get upset. She was too happy to see him that the thought hadn’t even occurred to her.

Holding him in a death grip, she recounted all she did while he was gone. She couldn’t really go out much at this point, so hearing his mom still found a way to make her weekend enjoyable was a relief. 

“I haven’t even cried over something stupid in a while!” She said as she finished her account of the past few days.

“I heard, I am glad you are feeling so much better, my love. I hated being gone but hearing you had a wonderful time makes me so happy.” He said as he began to tear up, thinking about how awful it was to leave. 

“Oscar, come on, just cause i'm not as emotional doesn’t mean you have to make up for it” She teased.

After pestering him about how his time away was, he remembered he had picked up something for her, and while he bought it thinking he would use it to stop her tears, why not just give it to her while she is this happy.

“I picked up your favorite,” he said as he reluctantly handed her the food he got, shuddering at the unusual combination she loved oh so much.

The sound of her son gagging as he watched his wife eat had Nicole coming into the room to investigate. The picture of her pregnant daughter-in-law, happy as a clam while she ate her food, and her son holding his nose and trying to stop himself from throwing up was a sight she committed to memory and knew she was going to bring up for years to come. 

“What have you got there?” Nicole asked, knowingly making Oscar gag again as he was reminded of the food combination.

“Cottage cheese and ketchup,” she answered. Instead of disgust, the couple was confused by the light bulb moment Nicole seemed to have.

“My goodness! That is what I craved with Oscar. Gross to think about now but I loved it then.”

“What! You never told me this?” Oscar asked, astounded he would be the reason his mom had to eat a combination that disgusted him so.

“I was saving it for the next podcast I did. Think I’ll have to talk about this moment too.” His mom teased. 

Rolling his eyes, he turned to his wife and immediately clocked in on the frown beginning to form.

Both mother and son had the same exact thought: Uh oh.

“You- you craved the same thing?” She stuttered out.

“Um, yeah? You okay, Honey?” Nicole asked, now on edge at the incoming storm.

Seconds of silence went by but were soon disrupted by the sounds of his wife’s cries as she took in the information.

“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you upset at that?” Oscar questioned as he went to rub her back in comfort.

“Its just- that is so sweet, and the thought that- that I could be having the same cravings, is just- I just-” His wife didn’t get to finish her sentence as more wails came out, followed by hiccuping.  

Nicole and Oscar looked at each other in alarm as they realized that this was most likely the consequence of a weekend with no breakdowns. They had a long night ahead of them. 

[rowanhoney]

hello my dears I am so so so so so in love with life

[sillyblues]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: miguel tells you how annoying you are

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: last and second part of annoying is here!! thank you so much for the huge support yall broke my app my notifications weren’t loading properly lmao THANK YOU! this was supposed to be just a short one but here we are with a part two and a bit bigger word count m’gonna need rest and need more time for the preggo fic

part 1

Wordlessly, you left the team. You returned to your own Earth and did your own thing again. There was a slight tinge of unfamiliarity, knowing that you might never work with other spider people, your friends, again, but you forced the feeling down.

Miguel’s outburst haunted you wherever you went. Even as you fought villains that disturbed the peacefulness of your home, even as you mingled with the other civilians and hung out with your friends, even as you laid down in the comfort of your bed, his words would constantly echo through your head, and they would threaten the fall of your tears every single time.

If Miguel thought you were annoying, what about your other friends? Do they think you were bothersome as well? Maybe, you bitterly thought as you brought your knees to your face. Maybe the civilians don’t like you as well. The thought of the people you treasure and care for so dearly, the people whom you devoted most of your life to save, the people whom you risk getting hurt every day for, hating you, left you breathless.

More tears fell, and you gasped. The ache in your heart was too much to bear and seemed to sting your entire being. You clutched your chest as you laid sideways on your bed, pillows and blanket long scattered on the floor. You tried to muffle your cries, but it was useless, as they still vibrated through the room of your apartment.

Oh, god. Please don’t hate me. Don’t hate me, please. Don’thatemepleasedon’thatemeplease—

“[Name]?” the familiar voice momentarily halted you in your weeping. You slowly rose a bit, supporting yourself on your arm and looked towards the source of it. Peter’s worried look greeted you as he crawled himself out of your window. 

“Oh, [Name].” you wavered at his heartbroken voice. He immediately rushed in to hug you. He sat on your bed beside you and embraced you. He rocked you back and forth, one hand on the back of your head that leaned into the crook of his neck, and one hand caressed your back.

“P-Peter, I ca– I can’t,” you hiccupped, and with shaking fingers, you gripped his suit tight. You felt your heart would burst with the way it was beating so fast and hard, ringing in your ears. “I can’t— I can’t breathe.”

“It’s okay, [Name]. I got you. I’m here, okay?” his voice was slightly muffled by the top of your head, but you could still hear him. “I want you to listen to me. Stay with me, yeah?”

You tried your best to respond, but it felt like your body wasn’t listening to you. He pulled back a little and held your face in his hands. You look at his eyes full of undisguised concern overflowing, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hate you too. You gathered what was left of your little strength and nodded weakly.

“Can you tell me three things around your room?” you try to look around as you cling to his arms. You looked away from his eyes and looked around you. Your old lampshade provided you with dim lighting in your dark, cold room. Your messy books were in disarray on the table. You saw a mirror. You saw yourself and how miserable you looked. Your face was wet with tears, and your eyes were red. You also saw how Peter looked at you with such solicitude, and you want to cry all over again.

“Um, lampshade.” You said and winced at the painful scratch in your throat and your hoarse voice. “Books. Mirror.”

“Good job. You did well. Can you move three body parts for me?” you unclasped your hands from his arms and tried to clench and unclench them. You wiggled your head out of his hold, embarrassment starting to creep onto you being seen so sticky and so wet and such a mess. It was fortunate that he understood and he chuckled. You were silent for a moment, and you didn't know what else to move so you settled on headbutting Peter.

“Ow! Of all things, really? Can't believe this is what I get,” he grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. You giggled at his exaggerated expression and unknowingly to you, your tears had stopped flowing, and only hiccups remained.

“Are you feeling better, [Name]? You can talk to me, my shoulder is vacant for you. Or do you want me to just stay quiet? Because yeah, I can do either. Just tell me what to do,” you chuckled even more at that. “I’ll even give you a pass for laughing at me.”

Seeing Peter comfort you like that, there was a sense of relief wash over you. It was obvious he was being genuine with you and if he wasn't, he most likely wouldn't even have the patience to sit with you and let you cry on him.

“It's nothing, um, it's just that,” you sighed as you weakly played with your fingers. The words are lodged in your throat, and you slowly breathe out. He looked at you with encouragement to take it slow, to breathe and you did. “I found out people at the headquarters think I talk too much and they didn’t really like me. Then I made Miguel mad, and I learned how I was annoying him. He probably hates me. And, uh, it got me thinking, what if you and Jess and Hobie think the same way? What if everyone thinks the same way?”

There was an urge to cry again, but it felt like you had cried it all out. There was none left for you to cry anymore.

“Wow, I knew Miguel was all bite and no bark, but I didn’t expect he’d bite that deep. What the hell is wrong with him?” the genuine disbelief made you sputter and chuckle. 

“First of all, whoever doesn’t like you is automatically wrong. I mean, who could not like you? You literally make everyone’s day. Jess loves gushing with you about her husband, and Hobie loves talking about how his punk stuff and fighting the literal government which I think it’s really pretty cool of him don’t tell him that he’s going to tell me I should do it as well and I just can’t,” he said. “And I love talking to you because you’re funny and so positive you just know how to make me cheer up. Besides, I’m talking too much now, aren’t I? Always have been. But did you think I was annoying?”

“No! I never once thought you were one.” You replied without a beat.

“Exactly. Us either. Look, [Name], everyone loves you. Trust me when I say that.” He said with confidence and finality that you had no choice but to believe him,

“But, Miguel..”

“He's stupid. I know. Don’t mind what he said because it’s all bullshit anyways.” He grins. “Lyla told me what happened. I’m not taking his side because what he said is just wrong and I get you, you know? Having to hear all of that hurts. But from the bottom of my heart, I think Miguel did not mean what he said. Like, all the pent-up stress got to his head and boom, it suddenly burst out. I’m not saying that it was a valid reason, no. I just wanted to let you know that he doesn’t truly think you’re annoying, you know?”

“Besides, from all the time I knew him, I had never seen him genuinely enjoy his time with someone nor mope so bad when you didn’t come to the headquarters anymore.” He said with a deadpan expression at the end.

“Pfft, really?”

“Yes, really.”

There was a pause, it wasn’t awkward but it made you appreciate him more for coming here for you. He smiled at you and you did too, leaning on his shoulder for support. He hugged you sideways, one arm rubbing the side of your arm and you closed your eyes.

“I missed you, [Name]. We all did.”

“...I missed you all too.”

.

.

.

The decision to come back to the headquarters was a bit hard but you took it slow with Peter’s support. He never rushed you nor forced you to come back which you really appreciated and when you did return, you were sure you didn’t regret it. Jess and Hobie immediately latched onto you, they hugged you tight and told you how much they missed you so bad. They asked you how had you been, if you were alright, if were you hurt, and all that. Seeing their sincere worry for you, you smiled hard enough to hurt your cheeks and slowly you were going back to the old, happy you.

What changed right now was that you avoided Miguel. When you first returned to the headquarters, Miguel was there a bit far away from you. You could feel his earnest gaze at you and you looked at him briefly. The bags underneath his eyes seemed to be bigger and you wonder if he had gotten a bit bigger too. A reminder of his words rang instantly through your head and you breathed deeply silently. You quickly looked away as soon as you laid your eyes on him and that remained true for a couple of weeks.

During the briefing of your missions, he would look at you expectantly as if you would stand beside him like you always did. But you usually stood nearby Hobie who was at the entrance of his office. Sometimes you stood beside Jess and Peter which was a bit near him but not quite so.

“You’re not gonna be near him?” Hobie once asked as he lay down on a flat surface. He nudged his head in Miguel’s direction who was looking at you a couple of times as he talked about the mission details. You smiled bitterly. 

“Aight, guess I got more time to catch up with you, huh?” the tip of his lips lifted up, “Wanna leg it and come join the protest in my home?”

“Oh no.” you silently snorted.

“What? It’s fun and we’re doing the right thing, you know.”

“Hobie, are you listening?” Miguel’s voice interrupted you both. You look away, not yet keen on looking at him.

“Yes, big boss. Ears open for you, don’t worry about me,” he stretched his arms before he folded them to lay his head on his clasped fingers. You wondered why he hadn’t called you when you weren’t really listening to him as well. Maybe he targeted Hobie on purpose to make you feel uncomfortable? You bit your lip. No, that can’t be. Peter said Miguel didn’t hate you and you trusted him so despite the voices haunting voices once more, you decided to believe in him.

Sometimes, you two would meet outside the building on his favourite Mexican stand outside the building. Maybe it was a habit formed over the time you knew him that you would buy him his empanadas. Now that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him just yet, you bought some for yourself. You could not deny that you missed buying his food, only to eat half of it yourself.

“Ah, it’s [Name]! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Mrs. Flores exclaimed as soon as she saw your walking figure towards her. You two have gotten close a bit back then and has since then insisted you to call her ‘Abuela’. “Have you lost weight? You’ve gotten smaller since I last saw you!”

You didn’t think you did but before you could deny she was immediately cooking some empanadas, “Just wait, I’ll cook some for you, okay? No need to pay.”

“Abuela, thank you, but I can’t accept this without payment. Please, let me pay,” you opened your wallet and took some money but she wasn’t having it.

“No! I told you I don’t need any money! Do I look like I need some, huh? Don’t make me angry,” she threateningly pointed her clamps at you. You just sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness was stronger than any villain you had fought. Suddenly, a figure crept behind you and you paid it no mind, figuring it was some other customer but the voice surprised you.

“Buenas tardes, Señora. Lo de siempre por favor.” You looked at Miguel in reflex. He wore a plain white shirt and trousers and oh, he was so close to you. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but hesitation dripped from him so you took the opportunity to look away and stepped to your side to create some distance between you.

“Oh, ¿es tú novio, [Name]? ¡Lo sabía! Why didn’t you say so? He’s been the one buying empanadas instead when you were gone.” You choked on your own saliva and embarrassment immediately crept up your cheeks. You coughed it out as she side-eyed you. Miguel was silent and you wonder if he wasn’t going to clear this misunderstanding up.

“You had a fight, didn’t you?”

“No, Abuela, he’s not my boyfriend—”

“He isn’t? ¡Qué hombre más estúpido! Are your eyes not properly working? What are you still waiting for?” she snorted at him. The bubbling noises from the oil fill the silence as you didn’t really know how to respond in this situation. 

“Well whatever, you will fix it, won’t you?” she glared at him. In that moment, you felt loved once more and you were starting to truly believe that those who said you were annoying were wrong. You bit your lip. You did not deny to yourself that you were expecting to hear his answer.

“I will.” He replied with such determination and resolution as he looked at you. Your heart throbbed, you saw how much he wanted to fix things right with you and you didn’t know how to feel. Glad? Happy? But you also felt upset at yourself because you almost wanted to smile just because of that and it felt like you were too easy in forgiving him even though he hurt you so much. You quickly dismissed the confusing feelings down and when Abuela gave you the empanadas, you hurriedly slipped some bills while you took the food and almost ran off.

But everything would have to come to an end, including this avoidance of yours of him. You sorted out your thoughts, and your feelings, each day as you avoided him like a plague after numerous encounters because you feared that if you saw him one more time, you would burst out and say things that you didn’t mean like he did. 

On the day that you decided to finally stop everything and just talk to him, you were beaten to it by Miguel. You were looking through the windows in the building and stared at the beautiful blue skies and the white clouds that decorated it. The flying cars and the mega train running vertically were like the birds and the beam of sunlight back in your home and you were reminded of the differences you and Miguel had. 

“[Name],” his voice was so soft, so unlike the tone he had the day he yelled at you. You admit you had gotten comfortable with the pain you felt since that day that you still wanted to evade his gazes and attempts to reach out to you. But the rational part of you, the one that grew from the pain, knew you had to meet his eyes this time. To let him reach you this time. And so you did. You looked at him, you looked at his eyes that were looking at you so desperately, so hesitatingly.

“Can we talk, please? Just the two of us,” he said but to you, it felt like he pleaded with the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw was clenched, awaiting your words that seemed like it would decide his fate.

“Okay,” you breathed out and he did too. The crease on his forehead slowly thinned out and his shoulders moved back. You knew that if someone different saw Miguel like this, they would think he was normal and that he wasn’t acting differently. But you knew better. Despite the tough shell he portrayed, there was a man vulnerable just like you. You just had a soft shell.

You two went to his office and the door closed behind you two. He asked Lyla to not let anyone enter for at least a while so nobody would disturb you both. She saw you and waved brightly at you. She then nodded and finally disappeared.

“Before you say anything, can you honestly answer this one question I have? Just one, please,” you asked him, nerves started to creep onto you and you wanted to look away so bad but you have to search for the truth in his eyes. You have to know his answer to your question.

“Sure, yes. I’ll be honest, I swear.” He promised you.

“Did you ever really think I was annoying? That all I do was nothing but cause trouble for you?”

“Never.” 

“Liar.” You were disappointed. You were not as stupid and oblivious as others thought of you. There was a part of yourself that knew that you were bothering them. That you were bothering him. But you couldn’t help it. You cared for him and if talking too much, if bothering him would make him distracted from the grief and the pain he had from Gabriella then you would gladly do it.

“No, I wasn’t lying, [Name]—” you looked away. He couldn’t even be honest with you. Were you that unworthy of honesty? That was all you had asked. You clenched your fist and let your nails dig into your palm. “Listen to me, please.”

You start to walk away.

“[Name], por favor,”

You were nearing the exit.

“I— fuck it, yes! I didn’t like you because you were so annoying. I hated you.” You immediately looked back at him. Disbelief was obvious in your face and tears fell from your eyes. You felt a sense of betrayal at this. If he hated me so much, then why did he let me so close to him? Were you just a show to him? Were you entertaining? He was approaching you and strength had left your legs from the shock at what he said but you remained still.

“I hated the way you talked so much I felt like I was losing a part of myself because I wanted to know more about you and listen to you talk. I hated the way you know so much about me. I felt like you could see through me and I was so scared that you would hate me if you knew what I truly am. I hated the way you cared for me like no other because I cared for you too and I was so terrified to lose you too. I hated the way you’re so reckless, you don’t care if you get hurt as long as it’s for others.” He stopped in front of you and tears were also coming out from his eyes. “I hated the way you captured my whole attention whenever you’re there by my side because I can’t look at anything else anymore. I can’t work properly anymore. I can’t think properly anymore and– and I, oh fuck.”

What?

“You’re so annoying because you distract me so much. I hated you because I fell for you and you’re all I could think about and I just don’t know anymore,” he shakily breathed out. His figure was so big but at this moment, you felt like he was so small. His tears ran continuously like a furious stream and you were sure yours were too.

“When you left, it didn’t feel right anymore. I missed you talking to me. I missed you eating my food. I missed you annoying me. I missed you so much it hurts.” His voice turned hoarse and you finally moved. You caressed your hand on his cheeks and he leaned his face against your touch. “Lo siento, [Name]. I really am. Es la verdad, por favor créeme. Por favor…”

“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried out as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. But you couldn’t really blame him. Because he was the same as you. Despite his flying cars and vertical running train and your birds and beam of sunlight, there was still the same blue sky and white clouds. Despite his tough shell and your soft one, you two were just as vulnerable as the other.

“I’m sorry, don’t hate me please…” he croaked out and gripped onto your suit tight. You leaned back a bit to hold his face in your palms. His face was wet, his hair was a mess, and he looked so haggard. You lean your forehead against his.

“I don’t, I promise. I could never hate you and I hate you for it as well,” you giggled amidst your tears. 

Really, he was such a stupid man and you were so annoying.

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[a-lexia11]

Crossing the line (part 2)

Ingrid Engen x Putellas!reader

Alexia Putellas x sister!reader

Word count:Around 4k

Warning:some angst

Part 1, Part 3

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. Ingrid and you began texting—nothing too serious, just light conversation, sharing random thoughts and funny memes.

But even through the screen, you felt something shift. Each message from her made you smile, your heart race, and gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, this could turn into something more.

Yet with each text, a sense of guilt started creeping in.You were hiding something from Alexia, and you knew deep down she wouldn’t be okay with it. The more Ingrid and you talked, the heavier that secret felt, like a weight pressing down on you.

You tried to act normal around Alexia, but it was difficult. Every time she asked about your day or what you’ve been up to, you had to hold back from mentioning Ingrid. Lying to her felt wrong, but you didn’t see any other option.

If she knew—if she even suspected—that you had a huge crush on Ingrid, especially after you exchanged numbers and started texting constantly, she would step in without hesitation.

Alexia’s protective nature would take over, and she’d end things before you even had a chance to figure out what this could be with Ingrid.

The texts between Ingrid and you weren’t anything overtly romantic, but there was an undeniable undertone. A lingering question in every exchange

A “what if” that neither of you said out loud but both of you seemed to feel. There was something simmering beneath the surface, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

——

One evening, after an exhausting day, you found yourself lying on your bed, phone in hand. Ingrid had just sent you a photo of her latest painting—an incredible piece bursting with vibrant colors and raw emotion.

You admired the artwork, but more than that, you found yourself admiring her—someone so strong, talented, and kind, someone who seemed to draw you in deeper with every passing day.

Just as you were about to reply to Ingrid's message, your phone buzzed again. It was a call from Alexia. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Hola, Alexia” you greeted, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Hola, cariño” she responded, her voice bright and full of warmth. “¿Qué estás haciendo?” (What are you up to?)

“Solo descansando” you replied, glancing at Ingrid’s message again “¿Y tú?” (Just relaxing,What about you?)

“Acabo de terminar de cenar con algunas de las chicas” Alexia said softly. “Pensé en llamar a mi hermanita favorita” (Just finished dinner with some of the girls. Thought I’d check in on my favorite little sister.)

A smile tugged at your lips, but the weight of the secret you were keeping made it hard to fully enjoy the moment. “¡Oh, le diré a Alba que dijiste eso!” you teased, hoping to keep things light. (Oh, I'm telling Alba you said that)

She laughed, the sound comforting and familiar. “De todos modos, estaba pensando… ha pasado un tiempo desde que tuvimos un buen rato de hermanas. ¿Qué te parece si vamos a cenar este fin de semana? Solo nosotras dos.” (Anyway, I was thinking... it’s been a while since we’ve had some proper sister time. How about we grab dinner this weekend? Just the two of us)

The idea of a quiet evening with Alexia should have made you happy, but your heart sank.

Spending time with her, knowing you were hiding something that could hurt her, felt like a betrayal. Yet, there was no way you could say no without raising suspicion.

“Sí, suena genial,” you said, forcing your voice to stay steady. “¿El sábado?” (Yeah, that sounds great, Saturday?)

“¡Perfecto! Haré una reserva en algún lugar bonito. Te lo mereces.” (Perfect! I’ll make a reservation somewhere nice. You deserve it.)

Her words only made the guilt gnaw at you harder. “Gracias, Ale. Estoy deseando que llegue” (Thanks, Ale. I’m looking forward to it)

“Te extraño, Y/N,” she said, her voice soft and sincere. “Las cosas han estado tan locas últimamente con el fútbol. Siento que no he pasado suficiente tiempo contigo.” (I miss you, Y/N. Things have been so crazy lately with football. I feel like I haven’t spent enough time with you.)

Her words hit you harder than you expected. Alexia had always been there for you, always protective, always your biggest supporter.

Now, you were keeping something from her that she would never expect. “Yo también te extraño,” you said quietly, your throat tight with guilt. (I miss you too)

“Bueno, solucionaremos eso este fin de semana,” she promised, her tone lightening again. “Te enviaré los detalles más tarde. Te quiero, cariño.” (Well, we’ll fix that this weekend. I’ll text you the details later. I love you)

“También te quiero, Alexia.” (I love you too, Alexia)

After hanging up, you sat still for a long moment, staring down at your phone. Your lock screen showed an old photo of the three of you—Alexia, Alba, and you as a baby.

In the picture, Alexia was holding you, kissing your cheek, while Alba smiled brightly at the camera, clutching your tiny hand.

The image filled you with warmth, but also deepened the ache in your chest.

How could you keep this from Alexia? Eventually, she would find out, and the thought of how much it would hurt her weighed heavily on you. Disappointing her, breaking her trust—it was something you couldn’t bear.

But at the same time, you couldn’t deny what you felt for Ingrid. Every conversation, every laugh you shared, made your feelings grow stronger.

The spark between you two was undeniable, and it made you feel more alive than you had in ages. You couldn’t just walk away from that, even if the risk was high.

You sighed deeply, running a hand through your hair, lost in the swirl of emotions. Your phone buzzed again, and your heart leaped, expecting it to be Alexia texting you details about dinner.

But it wasn’t.

It was Ingrid.

Ingrid: Hey, you still awake?

Your heart jumped a little when you saw her message. You hesitated briefly before quickly typing a reply.

Y/N: Yeah, I’m up. What’s going on?

Her response was almost instant.

Ingrid: You didn’t answer my last message, so I just wanted to check if you were asleep—and see how you’re doing.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, even as the guilt you’d been carrying gnawed at you. Somehow, Ingrid always had a way of making things feel lighter, even when everything was complicated.

Y/N: I’m good. Just relaxing. What about you?

Ingrid: Same. Been thinking about you, actually. Remember when we hung out at the park? I really loved that day.

Your heart fluttered at her words. Knowing she was thinking of you, too, made something in your chest stir.

Y/N: Yeah, me too. That was a really great time.

There was a short pause before her next message appeared.

Ingrid: I was wondering... how about we grab coffee again sometime? Or maybe something more? Like dinner?

Your breath caught in your throat. Dinner? Was this her way of asking you out?

A big part of you wanted to say yes right away. But the other part, the one weighed down with guilt and worry about Alexia, hesitated.

You stared at her message for what felt like an eternity, fingers hovering over the keyboard, before finally making a decision.

Y/N: I’d love to.

As soon as you hit send, a mix of excitement and dread washed over you. You were walking a fine line now, and you knew it.

But you couldn’t stop yourself. You wanted to see where things with Ingrid would go, even if it meant more secrets.

Ingrid: Great! How about Saturday evening?

Your heart sank a little. Saturday—your dinner plans with Alexia. Panic surged through you, but you quickly pulled yourself together.

Y/N: Actually, I have plans with my sister on Saturday. How about Sunday instead?

Ingrid: Sunday works! Let’s make it a date, then. 😊

A date. That word sent a rush of excitement through you, but it also tightened the knot of anxiety in your stomach.

This was it—you were crossing the line, stepping into something that might hurt Alexia if she found out.

But it was too late. You were already in too deep, and part of you didn’t want to pull back.

Y/N: I’m looking forward to it. 😊

Ingrid: Same here. See you Sunday. Sweet dreams, Y/N.

Y/N: Sweet dreams, Ingrid.

You set your phone down, leaning back against the couch and staring up at the ceiling.

Your mind was racing, spinning with everything that had happened recently. You were torn—caught between your loyalty to Alexia and the undeniable feelings you were developing for Ingrid. And you didn’t know how to make sense of either.

All you knew for certain was that Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.

——

Sunday arrived sooner than you had expected, bringing with it a whirlwind of emotions that you could hardly contain.

As you got ready, the nerves were almost overwhelming, but excitement pulsed just beneath the surface.

You spent Saturday evening with Alexia, trying your best to act normal as you laughed and reminisced over dinner.

It was like old times, just the two of you—but all the while, a gnawing guilt tugged at your chest.

You couldn’t tell her. Not yet. The weight of the secret was almost suffocating, but you pushed it down. You had agreed to the date with Ingrid, and despite the turmoil, part of you was incredibly excited.

It had been so long since you’d been on a real date, and Ingrid… well, she was someone you hadn’t expected to feel this strongly about.

You decided to meet at a small, cozy restaurant near the city center. It was intimate, perfect for a quiet evening, away from prying eyes.

You arrived a little early, trying to calm the nervous fluttering in your stomach as you checked your phone repeatedly. You were barely paying attention when you looked up and saw her.

Ingrid approached, looking effortlessly stunning. She wore a simple black dress that hugged her in all the right places, with a light jacket draped over her shoulders.

Her dark hair was tied loosely in a ponytail, and as she got closer, you noticed the soft, nervous smile on her lips.

“Hey,” she greeted softly when she reached you. “You look… incredible.” She wrapped her arms around you in a light hug, her perfume enveloping you in a scent that was both comforting and intoxicating. You could have stayed like that forever.

You felt the warmth rise to your cheeks as you pulled back. "Thanks. You look amazing too," you replied, feeling self-conscious but also grateful for her compliment.

Her blue eyes twinkled in the soft evening light, and she gestured toward the entrance. “Shall we?”

You walked inside together, and as you were shown to your table, her hand brushed against yours. The touch was brief, but it sent a shiver up your spine. You could feel the tension already building between you, subtle yet electric.

The dinner started easily enough. You talked about football, music, books—everything that usually filled your conversations. But tonight felt different. Every smile, every laugh seemed charged with something more.

As the night wore on, the topics turned deeper. You spoke about your families, your fears, and even your past relationships—or lack thereof.

You found yourself opening up to Ingrid in ways you hadn’t with anyone in a long time. There was something so comforting about her presence, like she really saw you.

After dinner, neither of you wanted the night to end, so you decided to take a walk through the city. The streets were quieter now, the evening settling in, and you found yourselves near the beach.

The sound of the waves crashing softly against the shore filled the silence between you as you made your way down to a large rock by the water.

You sat there together, so close that your arms touched, and it felt so natural, so right. Your heart was racing, and you could feel the heat from her body next to yours.

Ingrid broke the comfortable silence first, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. “I’ve never really been in a serious relationship,” she admitted, her eyes focused on the horizon. “I guess I just… never found the right person.”

Her words surprised you. Ingrid always seemed so confident, so sure of herself, but hearing this side of her—this vulnerability—made your chest tighten with emotion.

You swallowed hard, your own feelings bubbling up. “Maybe you just haven’t been looking in the right places.”

She turned to look at you then, a small, shy smile pulling at her lips. “Maybe.”

The air between you thickened with tension, the unspoken attraction growing stronger by the second. You could feel her eyes on you, the way her body leaned slightly closer, and your breath caught in your throat. Your heart was pounding so loudly, you were sure she could hear it.

And then, without another word, Ingrid leaned in. Her lips brushed against yours in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, testing, as though she was waiting for you to pull away—but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Instead, you leaned into her, your heart racing as you kissed her back.

The kiss deepened, her hand coming up to cup your cheek as you wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

The feel of her, the warmth of her lips, sent a surge of electricity through your entire body. Time seemed to stop. Nothing else existed in that moment but you—her lips on yours, her body pressed against yours, the world fading into the background.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless. Ingrid’s cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes wide and bright as she looked at you, her lips slightly parted.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I… I couldn’t help it.”

You shook your head, a breathless laugh escaping you as you touched her hand. “Don’t be sorry.”

She smiled, a mixture of relief and something deeper flashing across her face. For a long moment, you just sat there, staring at each other, the reality of what had just happened settling between you.

Then, without warning, she leaned in again, this time more confidently. Her lips found yours again, the kiss slower, more lingering. Your heart raced as you kissed her back, your fingers threading through her hair, pulling her closer.

Her hands roamed softly down your back, sending shivers through you as the kiss deepened even further. Every touch, every movement felt like fire, and you couldn’t get enough of her.

You kissed again and again, each one more intense than the last. You could feel the desire building between you, the heat of her body against yours as you held each other, lost in the moment.

The world around you seemed to disappear, and it was just you—just Ingrid and you, your lips, your hands, your hearts beating in unison.

When you finally pulled away for air, you were both panting, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. You couldn’t help but smile, the thrill of it all coursing through you.

“Ingrid…” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I don’t want to stop.”

She smiled softly, her fingers brushing against your cheek. “Me neither.”

You stayed there for a while longer, exchanging soft kisses, wrapped up in each other. It felt so perfect, so right, and yet, there was a part of you that knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

As much as you wanted to stay in this moment forever, reality was waiting, and with it, the complications of your lives—of Alexia.

Ingrid seemed to sense your hesitation because she pulled back slightly, her eyes searching yours. “Y/N, I know this is complicated. With Alexia and everything. But I want you to know that I really like you. And I don’t want to keep hiding how I feel.”

Her words were like a punch to the gut, but in the best way possible. You nodded, feeling the weight of everything you were getting into. “I like you too, Ingrid. So much. But…”

“But Alexia,” she finished for you, her smile turning bittersweet. “I know. It’s not going to be easy.”

You sighed, your heart heavy with the reality of it all. “She’s going to be furious.”

“She’ll understand… eventually. She loves you.” Ingrid’s thumb stroked the back of your hand soothingly. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Her words brought you a sense of comfort, even though you knew the road ahead wouldn’t be simple. But for now, all you wanted was to hold onto this moment with her. To let yourself feel the happiness you hadn’t felt in so long.

“Okay," I whispered. "We’ll take it slow.”

She smiled, leaning in for one last kiss, her lips soft and lingering against yours. “Slow sounds perfect.”

And with that, the world seemed to fall away once more, leaving only you—two hearts intertwined, the future uncertain, but the present full of hope.

——

In the weeks that followed, you and Ingrid continued to meet in secret, cherishing each moment like it was something fragile and precious.

Whether it was meeting for a quiet coffee in a tucked-away café, taking long walks through hidden parks, or sneaking in a few more intimate dinners, being together felt like an escape.

Each time, the world around you blurred, leaving just the two of you cocooned in your own private bubble.

It was impossible not to be swept away by her. The way her eyes lit up when she laughed, how her smile seemed to make everything else fade, or how she looked at you like no one else in the world existed—it was intoxicating.

Every kiss you shared, every hug, felt like time slowed to a standstill, as if nothing else mattered but the feel of her warmth against you.

You hadn’t defined what this was yet, hadn’t put labels on the connection between you. But it didn’t need words to be felt.

The pull between you two was undeniable, and you knew, even without saying it out loud, that what you had with Ingrid was real—and strong.

One evening after a late dinner, as the two of you strolled along the street of Barcelona, Ingrid paused, turning to face you.

Her hand reached for yours, fingers intertwining with a softness that made your heart flutter.

“Y/N,” she began, her voice low and thoughtful, “do you ever think about what we are? I mean… I know we haven’t talked about it, but this, what we have… it’s more than just casual, right?”

You felt your breath catch for a moment, the reality of the situation pushing against the feelings you had for her. You nodded slowly, unable to look away from her eyes.

“It feels like so much more,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I think about it all the time. I think about you all the time.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, and she leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m glad I’m not the only one,” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin.

The moments you spent with her felt like everything, yet the weight of what you were hiding from Alexia gnawed at you.

Every time you were with your sister, the guilt grew heavier, impossible to ignore. Alexia had no idea what was happening between you and Ingrid, and each time she mentioned her in passing—a casual comment about training or a game—you had to fight the urge to spill everything.

One afternoon, as you sat with Alexia after one of her games, she casually brought up Ingrid again. “Ingrid estaba imparable hoy, ¿verdad?” she said, her tone light as she scrolled through her phone. “Me encanta cómo siempre lo da todo” (Ingrid was on fire today, right?. I love how she always gives it her all.)

Your stomach twisted at her words, a pang of guilt creeping up your spine. You forced a smile, trying to keep your tone even. “Sí, estuvo genial” (Yeah, she was great.)

But inside, you were crumbling. How much longer could you keep this secret? The fear of Alexia finding out—of her being hurt, angry, or worse—was constant, always lurking in the back of your mind.

You wanted to believe she would understand, that she would see how much Ingrid meant to you, but there was no escaping the possibility that it would change everything between you.

Later that night, as you lay in bed, your phone buzzed with a message from Ingrid.

Ingrid: Are you okay? You seemed quiet today.

You hesitated before replying, your heart heavy with conflicting emotions.

Y/N: I’m okay… it’s just… Alexia. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this from her.

A few moments passed before Ingrid responded.

Ingrid: I’ve been thinking about that too. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide this, hide us. But I get it… it’s complicated.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the screen. The truth was, no matter how much you tried to act normal around Alexia, it was getting harder.

She had started to give you these curious looks, as if sensing that something was off. You were doing your best to keep things steady, but the cracks were beginning to show.

And the worst part? You didn’t know how much longer you could keep pretending.

The next time you saw Ingrid was for a movie night at your apartment, a special occasion since she would be staying over. Your heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you prepared for the evening.

When Ingrid arrived, you greeted her with a warm hug. “I’m so glad you’re here,” you said, your voice filled with anticipation.

“Me too,” Ingrid replied with a gentle smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

As the night unfolded, you both settled on the couch, choosing a film and making popcorn. Ingrid was her usual charming self, and her laughter filled the room as you joked and chatted about the movie.

At one point, as you sat close together, Ingrid’s hand brushed against yours. You felt a flutter in your chest, and she looked at you with a soft, understanding gaze.

“I hate that this situation with Alexia is causing you so much stress,” Ingrid said quietly, her voice tender. “I don’t want to be the reason for that.”

You squeezed her hand gently, feeling the weight of her words. “It’s not you, Ingrid. It’s the situation... and Alexia. I care about you so much, but it’s becoming really difficult to keep this from her.”

Ingrid’s expression softened with empathy. “Maybe it’s time we talk to her. Together.”

The thought of confronting Alexia was daunting, but there was comfort in the idea of facing it with Ingrid by your side. “I know you’re right,” you said softly. “I just don’t want to lose her... or you.”

Ingrid leaned in, her forehead gently touching yours. “You’re not going to lose me. I promise. We’ll get through this. But we can’t keep pretending this isn’t real. It’s too important.”

Her words, filled with reassurance, were followed by a slow, tender kiss. Her lips were soft and warm against yours, and the kiss seemed to hold all the promises and fears you both shared.

It felt like time had stopped, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, cocooned in your own little world.

When you finally broke the kiss, you both agreed it was time to end the evening and headed to your bedroom.

As you both lay on the bed, you hesitated, unsure whether to cuddle, given it was your first time sleeping together.

But Ingrid looked at you with a loving, inviting smile and opened her arms. “Come here,” she said softly.

You smiled and settled into her embrace, your head resting gently on her chest. Ingrid’s arm wrapped around you, pulling you close, and her fingers began to softly caress your hair.

The tender touch was incredibly soothing, and you felt your body relax completely.

You fought against the pull of sleep, not wanting to fall asleep before Ingrid. She sensed your struggle and whispered, “It’s okay, baby. Go to sleep. I’m right here.”

Her voice was soothing, and she placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You let yourself drift off, comforted by her warmth and presence.

Ingrid fell asleep a few minutes later, her breathing steady and calm underneath you.

The night unfolded serenely. You lay slightly turned away, with Ingrid nestled close behind you, her arm wrapped gently around your waist and her head resting in the nape of your neck. The room was calm, the only sound being the soothing rhythm of your breaths intertwining.

Suddenly, you were abruptly awakened by a loud voice that broke the peaceful silence.

“Qué coño está pasando aqui?!” (What the fuck is happening here)

———————-

For the people who wanted to be tagged:

@marvelwomen-simp @wososapologist @multifandomlesbianic

[mukbangg]

Size kink w Billy the kid and hes such a tall guy he towers over you and it's almost intimidating when you first meet him. You're more on the petite side, barely coming up to his shoulders when you're next to him and he loves it, constantly teasing you. You'd be mad if not for the shy smile that punctuates his sentence everytime, unable to stop that genuine burst of warmth in his chest when he looks at you.

Not so funny when you're under him and squeezing his cock so tight though.

You're small, and he finds that he can only fit in you fully after you've cummed twice, loosened up and loopy from his thick fingers and tongue.

And even then hes burying his face in your neck and breathing hard when he fits his swollen tip into your pussy that's already feels like its trying to milk him.

"Y'gotta relax for me, doll,"

He pleads with you, voice breaking when you clench around him again and he slides another inch into your sweet sweet cunny.

"M' tryinggg--!!"

You mewl in reply, nails digging into his nape while he grips your other hand, fingers interlocked by your head. You're teary-eyed and all gasping and whimpering, kiss-swollen lips glistening with your saliva as it dribbled down your chin.

Billy licks up the wet trail, pressing soft kisses to your pouty lips and whispering soft praises.

"S'good for me doll,"

"Just a little more...you can take it,"

And you're biting your bottom lip, snorting short bursts of pitchy whines and shaking your head and....oh.

Your head lolls back, eyes blown wide as his pelvis presses against yours, tip of his cock snug against your cervix. It's so full and you feel so stretched out and Billy's suddenly groaning low in his throat as your pussy pulses around him.

"Billy-"

But hes already cumming thick spurts straight into your womb, face buried into your neck as he whimpers apologies.

"Fffuuuckkk doll m'sorry m'sor-ry- jesus doll-"

I guess now you get to tease him back about being too "small" for him.

[jeondesu]

ೀ⋆ 🍂 SKZ + WAYS THEY SHOW “ I LOVE YOU ” !

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ ot8 x gn!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre: fluff warnings: not many… just some mentions of food & kissing <3

this is an old repost from my deleted blog !

방찬/BANG CHAN.

chan is the most perfect boyfriend you could ask for. he’s the type to never let you lift a finger when he’s around you. whether it be fixing a broken pipe in the house or carrying all of the groceries; it wasn’t a problem for him at all. he may get consumed in his work sometimes but that didn’t mean he spends less quality time with you. he’d call you throughout the day to check up on you and tell you how much he misses you. he’d share what he was working on and update you on small things. always smothering you once he comes home— no seriously, he does not let you breathe. he’d pepper kisses all over your face whilst having you wrapped tightly in his arms. the warmth of his loving embrace made you feel the safest and utmost protected.

리노/LEE KNOW.

lovesss taking you out on fun interactive dates. movies, bowling, mini golf, fruit-picking, and candlelit dinners were a just a few to name. minho enjoyed going to small family owned restaurants, he loved desserts and would order a milkshake with two straws on each side. you’d be playing footsie under the table like little kids, teasing you while staring into each others eyes trying not to burst out laughing. he loves you just as much as he loves his cats and that’s saying a whole lot. he has a picture of you playing with soonie and dori as his lock screen, it was probably the cutest pic he’s ever taken of you. he calls you and his cats a little family >\\< he loves the way they all get along with you and it affirms even more that you really are the one for him.

창빈/CHANGBIN.

constantly showers you with dozens upon dozens of compliments. could write a full-fledged novel on simply everything he adores about you. he’ll write sweet notes from time to time and leave them in random areas for you to find. your relationship with him always kept you guessing, he was so full of pleasant surprises. he noticed the littlest details about you and could practically read you like a book. he knew immediately when you were in a slump, it became his personal mission to cheer you up. is super touchy feely with you but does it with the most pure intentions. pressing feathery kisses along your hands and the insides of your palms, then trails further up your arm. he loved seeing how flustered you’d get by it, only wanting to keep doing it more.

현진/HYUNJIN.

treats you as his artistic muse. his deep infatuation with you fed his inspiration with new ideas constantly. his paintings were a reflection of his mind, his most inner thoughts and emotions. almost every painting he’s done was inspired by you in some way, shape, or form. art and photography are one his favorite hobbies so naturally he’s going to always wanna snap pictures of you. whenever you two go on dates he takes pics of you without you knowing, smiling to himself and thinking how lucky he is to have you. he tells you often how much you mean to him, he was a very vocal partner. you didn’t need to ask for reassurance because hyunjin would just give it to you anyway. it was like he could read your mind, he understood you on a intuitive and spiritual level.

한/HAN.

he is completely and authentically himself when he’s with you. your relationship is the most easy going thing in his life, he couldn’t imagine life without you. he loves that your humor is the same and you’re both always goofing off. he feels most accomplished if he can make you laugh until your stomachs start hurting. almost everything was a joke to him but the love he had for you was definitely not. he share’s everything with you, his clothes, favorite snacks, deepest secrets, nothing off limits for him. never stops talking about you with the other members, every little thing reminds of him you so he has to announce it. he could be doing something serious and then one of your inside jokes would randomly pop in his head, smiling like an idiot to himself. he was so proud to have you as his lover and best friend.

필릭스/FELIX.

the most sweet, nurturing, individual in the universe. put a million heart emojis next to your contact name and never fails each time to get a stomach full of butterflies every time he’s with you. hears a song that reminds him of you and instantly sends it; will make monthly playlists for you too. he gets lost in your eyes all the time, can’t help but feel his heart beat out his chest by your ethereal beauty. you could be having an in-depth conversation with him and he’d zone out from just looking at you. he can’t stand being away from you when he’s gone and gets real sad and lonely if he can’t hold you >.< will send you LENGTHY messages of what he loves most about you and how much he wants to be with you. if he can’t physically be there, he’ll do all he can to still feel like he’s right beside you.

승민/SEUNGMIN.

thoughtful gestures were his love language. he would notice your shoe is untied as you’re both walking and stop everything he’s doing to fix it for you. will do anything you ask him to at the drop of a hat. does chores and tasks around the house when you aren’t feeling up to it, he never complains about it either which you love. lots and lots of hugs and kisses !! he especially loves hugging you from behind and resting his head within the crevice of your shoulder. he’d kiss your knuckle before dancing with you in the kitchen and acting like an old married couple. the two of you would be slow dancing and lock eyes, your lips would collide as you both sway to the melody of the song. it was soft moments like these that proved seungmin owned all of your love.

아이엔/JEONGIN.

very much into showing PDA and lots of it. doesn’t really care about what the other members think when he touches or kisses you in front of them. likes to give you unexpected forehead and neck kisses, intertwining his fingers with yours while doing so. he bought you a necklace with his initial on it as a gift and you never took it off since the day he gave it to you. whenever he’s gone for long periods of times that necklace would get you through it all. he’d also buy matching couples pajamas and plan a night in where you do face masks and watch movies (^o^). late night cuddling was his forte; you’d be all tangled up in bed together and he’d leave short series of pecks to your cheek until you lull asleep in his arms.

[absfawn]

౨ৎ tender and careful abby who takes care of you to the best of her capabilities when she wakes up one day to find you with hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, constantly sniffling and wiping your nose with an endless stream of tissues, looking at her on the verge of bursting into tears. she knows you hate getting sick. knows that you feel completely useless when you get in that much pain, you can’t move. it takes her over 30 minutes to even get out of bed, each time, when you fall ill. clinging onto her arm, weakly mumbling not to leave into her shoulder, and while she doesn’t want to, she has to, to be able to get everything you need. always leaning down and kissing your forehead, leaving her lips resting against your skin for a couple more seconds, frowning at the obvious rise in temperature on your forehead, blatantly ignoring your whines about her needing to stay away from you for a few days until you get better. simply getting out of bed with a grumbled “you being sick won’t stop me kissing you, now, shut up and wait here” knowing damn well you can’t exactly get up. 

౨ৎ tender and careful abby who spends almost a full hour in the kitchen making you some honey tea and soup, soup that she knows you don’t normally eat when you’re not sick, but will eat gracefully when you are. her body moves quickly as she reaches over the counter and grabs one of the lap trays she bought for you the last time you had gotten sick, and carefully places the bowl of hot soup with the tea gently, not scolding herself in the process. something she does quite a lot. eyeing up the candy drawer, abby looked back over at the bedroom door, back to the drawer, and dropped her head between her shoulders slightly. it wasn’t that you weren’t allowed chocolate, you were and abby knew that. but it always made her feel worse because when you got colds, or sick in general, you couldn’t taste the food, and sweet treats like you could, but regardless, your girlfriend shrugged, opened the drawer and snatched a few bars of chocolate, and a bag of candy before placing them on the tray too. 

you were still slumped under the covers and blankets when abby appeared in the bedroom. finally. the messy bun she let you do last night, won’t admit she loved it, but you know, now even more messy. strands of hair stuck to her now sweaty forehead, this is what rushing around to make sure her girl has everything does to her.

wiggling her eyebrows at you when she makes her way to the side of the bed, places the tray on the nightstand, and carefully places the back of her hand on your forehead, pulling it away instantly when she feels just how high your temperature has gone up since she left. “s’not good baby, we need to bring it down, yeah?” she mumbled, handing you the mug of tea carefully. “drink that, then eat your soup. i brought you some chocolate, and before you say anything, yes i know you can’t taste it when you’re sick, but it’s there in case” abby trailed off, waving her hands everywhere while you simply giggled behind the mug of honey tea.

“thank you, abs. always taking care of me” you whispered, almost like a secret between you both.

“it’s my job, yeah? and you always take care of me when i get sick. we take care of each other.” the blonde smiled, holding out yet another item towards you.

a damp washcloth.

“what’s this for?” you grumbled, looking at the wet cloth like it personally offended you. taking it from her hands carefully, placing it on your forehead nonetheless, and sniffling quietly.

“for your temperature, you’re too hot” abby laughed like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“you told me that 3 days ago” 

“well, you’re hotter today because you’re sick”

“so you’re telling me i’m not hot when i’m not sick?”

“baby, love of my life,” abby paused to laugh again and shake her head at you. “you are always hot”

“even now?”

“yes, even now. very hot, especially with your blocked nose and wheezy coughs. s’cute when you suddenly sound like a cute duck” your girlfriend winked, disappearing into the bathroom before you could blink. 

quickly gasping in realization at her choice of words.

“abigail anderson, you did not just refer to my coughing as a duck!” 

“i love you!” she laughed from the bathroom.

“yeah, yeah. i love you too” you couldn’t help but smile.

tender and careful abby always being there to take care of you.

[rafesgfs]

wasted summer - one

series masterlist

watching jj like someone else hurts, thankfully, you finds comfort in rafe’s arms … and his bed.

Music boomed in your ears, the party in full swing as you made your way upstairs, away from the guys smoking weed and girls dancing to Kanye West. Using a guest room on the third floor, you opened the window and crawled out onto the roof. With a drink in hand, you watched partygoers jump into the Cameron's pool, observing the party from afar.

Taking a sip of the cheap vodka JJ had gotten, you glanced at the blond, a frown on your lips as you saw him sweep Kiara off her feet, jumping into the pool with her. Kiara likes JJ, that much you know is true after she had drunkenly confessed during a girl's night out. Bitterness grew inside you as you watched him respond to her subtle flirting, praying desperately he didn't return her feelings but your own.

You look away, downing the rest of the cup before throwing it off the roof in hopes of it hitting someone. Hopefully either one of them, but they were still playing in the pool. Together.

"Littering on my property? Harsh." a voice behind you murmurs as he crawls out the window, sitting beside you on the roof. Rafe grins at you, bringing the blunt to his lips.

You roll your eyes, keeping them on him instead of the heartwrenching scene below you. "Like you haven't littered at my house before. Payback."

"So vengeful ever since you started hanging out with those Pogues." Rafe chuckles, offering you a hit off his blunt. You decline it with a wave of your hand and he shrugs, taking another hit off of it.

Glancing back at JJ and Kiara, you can't help the pang in your heart as you watch them play in the pool, splashing each other with large smiles on their faces. Sighing, you look back at Rafe, suddenly wishing you'd brought a bottle of Titos with you.

Rafe arches a brow, a smirk dancing on his lips. "What're you doing up here, anyways? Shouldn't you be hanging out with the Scooby gang?"

Not wanting to be in his eyesight, you lay down on the roof, staring at the night sky, the lights from the party polluting the starry sky. "I needed a break."

"From those dirty Pogues?"

You smack his arm, causing the blond to burst out laughing. "Stop bullying my friends."

"Bullying works," replied Rafe, shifting to mirror your position. He groans softly as he lays back on the roof. "Remember Agatha Haynes? She no longer smokes fifty cigarettes a day after you called her Hagatha."

A snort escapes your lips before you can stop it. You shake your head. "God, I was a bitch."

"You still are." Rafe dodges another smack, a teasing grin slapped across his face. "Still the spoiled, snobby, selfish girl you were. You're just better at hiding it now."

"Oh, and the hits just keep coming." You groan out dramatically, smiling back at him. "I'll have you know that I am very empathetic and care about other people's feelings.”

The blond shakes his head, taking a hit from his blunt. "Is that why you're hiding out from your gang of mutts? Because you care about them so much you don't want them to know you're suffering in silence?"

"I wish you'd suffer in silence."

"Woah, don't violate the thirteenth-year truce," Rafe replies, drawing out a reluctant smile from you.

Rafe was ... Rafe. Born with a golden spoon in his mouth, acted like every rich kid from Figure 8, only worse, and knew how to get his way. The only fight the blond had lost was to a coked-out tourist to who Rafe ironically sold the coke.

Most people didn't see that he could be nice when he wanted to. You always held it above everyone that Rafe Cameron had a soft spot for you, even if it only came from being his little sister's best friend. Still, it was nice to be one of the few people not to be on the receiving side of his hostility, a side Sarah was constantly on.

It was a weird friendship built on a truce made by four and six-year-olds. During your fourth birthday party, Rafe had gifted you with a promise to never be the cause of your tears and you promised to never cut holes in his tighty whities again.

After a few minutes of silence, Rafe turns his head to look at you, exhaling out smoke. "Seriously, though, why are you hiding?"

"Not hiding, taking a break." You correct him, refusing to meet his eyes. He wasn't completely wrong, you were hiding from your friends, specifically two of them.

"That's such bullshit." scoffs the man next to you, rolling his eyes at your words. "Tell me."

You groan, covering your face with your hands in hopes of hiding your embarrassment from him. "No. It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"Stop being nosy."

Rafe snickers, putting his blunt out before grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your face gently. Eyes filled with serenity, a sight only you and Wheezie ever got to see. "Tell me, you know I won't tell anyone."

Your playful pout makes his grin widen. "You'll make fun of me."

"Me? After our truce?" asks Rafe, throwing his head back in laughter. "Never."

After contemplating whether to lie to his face, you sigh, rubbing your temples. It couldn't hurt to tell him, it's not as if he ever told anyone stuff you've told him before. "Kiara likes JJ. And ... I think he likes her back."

An awkward moment of silence hangs in the air before Rafe inhales sharply. "Oh. I didn't realize you wanted to fuck the help."

"Rafe." your tone made him throw his hands up in surrender. Staring back up at the sky, you scrunched your nose. "I kind of like him. It just sucks a little seeing them so touchy with each other and flirting in my face. If they become official, then I'll literally be the only person in the friend group without anyone. I'll be a seventh wheel and that's so fucking pathetic."

"You're getting ahead of yourself," says Rafe, scoffing. "My sister found someone who puts up with her shit, you'll have an easier chance finding a boyfriend. If you don't like anyone, I'll volunteer."

You can't help but roll your eyes at his not-so-comforting words. "Thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel better."

The blond chortled, sitting up. "I'm serious. Anyone who isn't blind can see you're clearly much better than those idiots you hang around. The girls you hung out with were annoying as hell but at least they were better than those group of Pogues."

"How very Kook of you to say," you mutter back, not taking Rafe's words earnestly. Shifting, you sit up, eyes flickering back to the pool, immediately spotting Sarah and John B., Pope and Cleo, and JJ and Kiara still playing with each other. "I don't know, they probably don't care I'm not with them right now."

You could feel Rafe's eyes burning a hole in your face, his lack of insults to throw at your friends making you uncomfortable. Anything was better than silence when it came to Rafe. Silence meant he was thinking and you almost always never liked what he was thinking of.

He stands up before holding his hand out, gesturing for you to take it. "Come on, let's get you something to drink. It'll cheer you up."

You immediately take his hand, standing up. "Don't need to convince me."

"None of that cheap shit you've been drinking. My dad has some expensive whiskey he keeps in his study." Rafe adds, climbing back through the window with you right behind him. He doesn't let go of your hand, even after you climb back inside.

Rafe leads you through the swarm of people in the hall, heading towards the second floor for his dad's office. He pushes a guy away from the door, unlocking it and holding it open for you to enter. You step across the threshold, glancing around Ward's office as Rafe shuts the door behind him.

You'd been in Ward's office a handful of times, most times with Sarah and one time with Ward himself when you had skinned your knee riding a bike and he bandaged it up. Being inside the warm-lit room with Rafe felt strange and slightly tense.

Plopping down on the big leather couch, you watch Rafe walk towards the desk, raiding his father's desk drawer until he finds the big bottle of GlenDronach. He grabs two glasses, sitting down beside you as he pours the amber liquid.

You scrunch your nose at the smell. "God, I can smell the hangover."

Rafe smirks, pouring too much into both of the glasses, capping the bottle back up. "Nah, if anything this will help you sleep. It goes down smooth."

You take the glass from Rafe, wincing at the strong musk of the whiskey before downing half the bottle like a shot, immediately coughing after swallowing it down. Rafe's brows furrowed as he watched you slam the half-filled glass down on the coffee table, exasperated. "That did not go down smooth."

"It's sipping whiskey, you don't drink it like a shot of vodka." the blond clarifies, judgment and confusion in his tone. "Who the hell takes a shot of whiskey?"

Glaring at him, you cough out the burning in your throat. "Get me a Sprite, motherfucker."

An amused smirk dances on his lips as he stands up and opens Ward's mini fridge, pulling out a cold can of Sprite. He opens it before handing it to you, sitting back down. "I just witnessed a crime."

You gurgle half the can, soothing your burning throat before glaring at him. "I don't like the taste of alcohol, I just drink it to get drunk. Besides, people who actually enjoy the taste are psychopaths."

"You never miss the chance to tell me I am," Rafe replies, grinning as he takes a more moderate sip of his whiskey. He makes an approving expression, swirling the liquid around the glass.

"You can have mine. I hate it." You push the glass in front of Rafe, leaning back on the couch. Rafe sipped his glass of single malt whiskey while you drank a can of Sprite. "Worse thing I've swallowed. And there's competition."

Rafe makes a face at that, shaking his head. "Please, no details of how the help was in your mouth."

Smacking his arm caused a drop of his whiskey to spill over the side. "Stop calling my friends the help, you snarky asshole."

The blond gives you a look, setting his glass back down on the table. "Maybank helped me carry my golf clubs at the club last week. I can't think of a better title for him. It's in the name."

You roll your eyes, downing the rest of your drink. Rafe could carry his own golf clubs so you knew he sought out JJ's help specifically to taunt and mock him. "If I get the lifeguard job, are you gonna start calling me the help?"

His eyes softened slightly, head tilting towards yours. "No, of course not. You're far better than anyone else, even if you decide to get an unnecessary job.”

"Even better than you?" you arch a brow, watching his lips quirk up in a genuine smile.

"Always," replies Rafe.

Heat pools in your stomach, the whiskey's delayed effect. You glance away from Rafe's sharp eyes. Clearing your throat, you shift on the couch, making yourself more comfortable. "It's not unnecessary, by the way. The job. It looks good on my transcripts."

"Hm, still going to Charleston?"

You shrug, staring at the insurmountably large portrait of Denmark Tanney in Ward's office. "I don't know. My parents want me to, and I'll get into it but I don't wanna be so close to home, you know?"

Rafe's brows furrowed, a frown tugging on his lips. "Where are you thinking?"

"Either New Orleans or London," you answer, pulling a laugh out of Rafe. "Yeah, a wide range of possibilities for me."

"You don't wanna go to Charleston?" questioned Rafe, his eyes never leaving yours. A look of displeasure passes his face. "It's not that close, seven hours."

You make a face, shaking your head. "Seven hours is too close for me.”

The blond scoffed, leaning forward to sip his whiskey.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you observed him. Teasingly, you ask. "What, you gonna miss me when I leave?"

"I thought it was obvious," Rafe replied, downing the rest of his glass. He shifts on the couch, placing his arms on top of it, giving you a sardonic grin. "I think Charleston is far enough."

Rolling your eyes for the millionth time that night, you lay your head back, sighing. "You can come visit me anytime. Just don't bring anyone. Especially not Topper or Kelce."

"Ah, I wouldn't wanna walk in on you and your victims." jokes Rafe, patting your thigh softly. "Wouldn't be the first."

You laugh, winking at him. "Maybe you'll be my next victim."

Rafe raises a brow, leaning back slightly as he stares at you. "Don't tease me, I have no self-control when it comes to you."

"Yes, I think that was clear when you sent Tom Schnitzel to the ER for trying to drug me," you reply, inhaling sharply at the memory. You were positive you still had Tom's blood stained onto the white top from that night. "Thanks for that, by the way. I don't think I properly thanked you for that."

Rafe waves it away with a hand, standing. "Don't worry about it. I needed to get it out that night, anyway. Come on, I have something to show you."

Curious, you follow Rafe out of the office, walking down the hall to his room. He opens the door, motioning for you to enter. Immediately, you plop down on his bed, laying out on the soft mattress as he closes the door behind him. You watch him walk towards his dresser, turning around with a small jewelry box, a bow sitting on the top.

"What's that for?" you ask, taking the box from Rafe, and inspecting it.

He sits on the edge of the bed, eyes watching you fiddle with the box. "Your birthday present."

"It's not for another month."

Rafe shrugs, grinning. "Consider it your early birthday present, then. Come on, open it."

Tilting your head, you lift the top from it, the diamond tennis bracelet sparkling as soon as the light hits it. You gasped softly, taking the bracelet from its mold, watching in fascination as the diamonds danced in the light.

"Holy shit, Rafe," you mutter, inspecting the bracelet. "What the fuck? How much was it?"

The blond chuckled, taking the bracelet and unlocking the hook. He gestured for you to put your wrist out. "Real diamonds. None of that lab-grown bullshit. Don't worry, the cost didn't even dent my account."

You give him a look, allowing him to put the bracelet on your wrist and shake it as soon as it's on. "I told you before that I don't want expensive gifts from my friends. Just my parents."

"I'd like to think I'm more than one of your obnoxious friends," replies Rafe, causing you to give him a look. He snickered, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Last time, I swear."

"Highly doubt that." you turn your attention back to the bracelet, smirking at how it looked against your skin. "Thank you, though. It's really pretty."

Rafe stares at you, blue eyes watching you admire his present. "Yeah, beautiful."

You glance up at him, cheeks flushed from the whiskey and drinks prior. Heat pools in your stomach as your eyes meet his. Clearing your throat, you tuck your hair behind your ear. "Best present I got this year."

He smirks, laying his head down on a pillow, watching as you mirror his movement. "Yeah? Do I get to be your favorite until I piss you off?"

"Of course. I give it five minutes." you tease, grinning when Rafe smacks you with a pillow softly. You dodge his second hit, rolling closer to him, your arm pressed against his. "I was kidding! You'll be my favorite forever."

"That's more like it," Rafe says, a satisfied grin slapped across his face.

You groan softly, rolling onto your side to face the blond, eyes closing. The party was still going on downstairs, the loud thumping of the music heard two stories up. Your mind briefly flickered to what was happening with JJ and Kiara until Rafe's fingers ghosted over your side.

"I swear to god if you're gonna tickle me, Cameron," you grumble, eyes still closed, feeling his fingers roam around until they hit your stomach.

Rafe chuckles quietly, fingers stroking the ribcage tattoo you had gotten with Sarah. "When did you get this?"

"A week ago." you giggle as he runs his fingers up, touching your neck. Your eyes snapped open and you immediately slap his hand away, your brand new bracelet swinging slightly from the movement. "Rafe. You know how ticklish I am."

"Sorry," he smirks, tone unapologetic. His hand drifts to your hips, fingers playing with your cutoff shorts. "Wouldn't want a repeat of the Jenga incident."

Your nose scrunches at that, remembering the night you spent at the ER. "It was an accident."

"Still sticking to that story?"

"You moved your head."

"You threw a glass at my head." Rafe corrected, a smile tugging the corner of his lips up.

Scowling at him, you shake your head. "No, I threw it at the wall behind you. You moved your head at the last second and had to get five stitches."

"If you weren't so fucking competitive ..." Rafe teases, trailing off.

You bite your tongue, letting the subject go with great difficulty, but managing to not bite back. Closing your eyes again, you let your muscles alleviate. "Hm. Whatever."

You both lay in silence for a few minutes, the alcohol in your system and Rafe's soft bed allowing you to relax despite the loud music creeping through the walls. Despite feeling his eyes on you, you felt your body intense, the bed cradling you.

Rafe's hand drifts slowly up your hip, fingertips softly brushing against the sliver of bare stomach before slipping slightly under the hem of your top. Your eyes flutter up at the movement, watching as his thumb draws circles on your skin.

Goosebumps arise, and you suddenly realize how close he is, not even a foot away. His eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue peeking out to wetten his own. Your breath gets caught in your throat, his face somehow closer now.

Maybe it was the alcohol you've consumed trying to forget your own despair or an excuse to get your mind off JJ and Kiara, but you watched as Rafe brought his lips to yours, not pulling back when the taste of whiskey invades your mouth.

A hand caressing your cheek, Rafe rolled over on top of you, his elbows holding up his weight as he kissed you. His tongue sought entry to your mouth, biting your bottom lip. You gasped slightly at the feel, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You melt into his touch, your lips parting slightly as Rafe's tongue sweeps in.

Rafe breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a string of soft kisses along your collarbone. Tilting your head back, you give him better access, running your hands through his hair, a soft content sigh escaping your lips.

He nips at your collarbones before sucking a mark into your skin, just right above your breast causing you to mewl at the touch, your hands drifting to his shoulders, freshly manicured nails digging into his skin. You meet his eyes, his ocean blues now darkened like the water during a storm.

Something comes over your body, seeing Rafe in a new light. Suddenly needy and impatient, your hands tugged at the hem of Rafe's black polo, pleading silently for him to take it off. Taking your hint, he sits up, taking it off in one swift move, tossing it on the floor.

You'd never admit it, not even to Rafe–especially to Rafe, but you'd always loved his abs. The definition of the, so toned, tanned, and delectable. He may have been your friend, but you weren't blind to his looks, and definitely how his abs looked when he flexed them.

As your fingers traced the defined line down his stomach, Rafe's hands slid under your top until the tips of his fingers met the fabric of your bikini top. Needing more, a lot more, you sit up, ridding yourself of the offensive clothing. You heard Rafe groan, pushing you back onto the bed, eyes roaming the sight of the hot pink bikini top you still wore, the top so little it was hardly covering your nipples.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured, reaching out and pulling off the top quickly, the thin string breaking at the force, your tits spilling out. You gasped, nipples hardening in the cold air. Rafe groaned at the sight, hands cupping your breasts, his breath hitting your nipples. "Fucking incredible."

You arched your back, moaning softly as his tongue wettens a nipple before taking it into his mouth. His teeth nibble it, sucking and teasing the hard bud while his fingers play with the other, rolling it between his fingers. Rafe pinches it gently, looking up at you with a smirk when you mewl.

Running your hands over Rafe's back, you feel the warmth and firmness of his muscles, wetness pooling at the thought of kissing every single inch of his torso. Before he could take the other nipple into his mouth, you pull his lips back to yours, wrapping an arm around his neck as a hand runs down his back, nails scratching his spine.

Rafe's hand moves down your sides, fingers playing with the button of your shorts. Pulling back from the kiss, he unbuttoned your shorts, slowly–and agonizingly–sliding them off. The cutoffs pile onto his shirt on the floor.

You know Rafe's experienced, so are you, but you swore he almost looked nervous as he stared down at you, his hands slightly shaky as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your matching pink thong. Those join the discarded clothing on his bedroom floor.

He looks like a man starved as his eyes focus on your bare cunt, hungry and almost animalistic as he leans closer to your glistening pussy, nose nearly touching the clit. "You're already so wet."

Instinctively, you spread your legs wider, hands grasping the sheets as his finger leisurely dips into your wet pussy, your lips parting slightly. His thumb touches your clit, rubbing it gently. You groan, hips bucking at the feel, needing more. "Fuck."

Rafe smirks, pushing a finger into your cunt, watching as your face contorted in pleasure. He adds a second before you could come down from the small high. "Look at you, so needy and desperate."

Before you could think of a retort, he leans down to replace his thumb with his tongue, licking and sucking at your clit as his fingers continue to thrust inside you, gaining speed. The sight of Rafe's head between your legs, his tongue flicking your clit was so erotic, the vision enough for you to get wetter. You throw your head back, your fingers tangling in Rafe's hair as you pull his head closer to your dripping pussy, a moan filling the room.

His fingers hit that spot inside you, causing a surprise whimper from your lips to escape. Rafe pauses, glancing up at you, pride in his eyes before he doubles his efforts, his fingers curling to reach that spot. He sucks your clit, nibbling it when you tug his hair.

"Rafe," you moan, arching your back. You push his head deeper between your thighs, pussy clenching around his fingers, so close to falling off. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"That's right, say my fucking name when you cum on my fingers," Rafe grunted, his fingers plunging in and out of your soaking wet cunt. He licks your clit, staring up as you come closer.

A dripping mess, you buck your hips up as Rafe continues his relentless actions on your pussy, moans of pleasure filling the room. His free hand moves up your torso, cupping your breast before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

You lose it when he pinches it harshly, moaning loudly as you come undone, pussy clenching around his fingers, throbbing. You whimper out his name, your hand gripping his hair. "Fuck!"

Rafe laps it all up, replacing his fingers with his tongue, hands holding your legs open as you attempt to close them, your clit sensitive. He runs his tongue along your pussy, lapping up your juices, groaning at the taste, unable to pull himself away.

He licks his lips, staring possessively at your cunt before looking up at you with a proud smile. "You taste so fucking good."

He then proves it to you, lips meeting yours in a kiss. You taste yourself on him as you kiss him back, lips moving against each other. As you come down from the high, you roll him over, straddling his torso. You move your lips to his neck, marking it until you kiss down his chest. Meeting his eyes, you run your tongue down his abs, kissing every individual one.

You move to straddle his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants, much opposite of his agonizingly slow approach. Rafe lifts his hips, helping you take off his jeans, sitting up to pull you in for another kiss. Giggling, you push him back onto the bed, your fingers sliding underneath the band of his boxers.

You bite your lip as you take out his cock, your hand wrapping around it immediately. The size of it made your mouth water, licking your lips in anticipation as you stroked it slowly causing Rafe to groan. With an approving hum, you lick the tip, meeting Rafe's hungry gaze.

Smirking, you run your tongue along the length of it, pulling back when Rafe bucks his hips up, glaring at you for teasing him. Chuckling, you decide to end the shortlived torture, taking his cock into your mouth, your warm, wet lips wrapping around his cock.

He groans, fingers pulling at your hair, guiding your movements, and urging you to take more of him. The sight of your soft, pink lips wrapped around his cock was something he'd never forget. "That's it, baby. Suck my dick like a good slut."

You felt your pussy clench at his words, growing wetter as you suck him off, eagerly bobbing your head up and down his dick. Pre-cum drips onto your tongue and you savor the taste, moaning around his cock, Rafe grunting at the feel of the vibrations.

Not wanting him to cum down your throat, you stop, slapping his cock on your tongue, smiling innocently when he narrows his eyes at you. He looked so hot staring down at you, chest heaving as he panted lightly, his knuckles white as he tried to restrain himself. His cock bobbed up as if begging for attention.

Shifting, you move up his body until your pussy is inches from Rafe's cock. You tap your clit with his cock, whimpering quietly, your clit still sensitive. Rafe's hands drift to your hips and you smack them away, giving him a smile as you rub your cunt against his dick, wanting to tease him just a little bit more.

He grits out your name, hands by his sides as he clenches them into a fist. "Stop teasing.”

"Or what?" you arch a brow, smirking as you let the head of his cock slip into your wet cunt. Temporarily speechless, Rafe lets out a guttural groan as you sink down unhurriedly, watching as your pussy wraps around his cock until he bottoms out. The size of his cock stretches you out, your walls fluttering around him as you rock slowly. "Holy shit."

"Jesus Christ." Rafe growls, his hands cupping your tits as you begin to bounce on his dick. He squeezes them, watching as your pussy swallows his cock like a vice. "So tight. Made just for me."

You moan at his words, leaning back and placing your hands on his thigh, giving him a view men would kill for. You ride his cock, throwing your head back at the feel of his cock stretching you out. Rafe reaches down, slapping your ass as you ride him, and you mewl at the gentle pain. "Rafe."

Rafe's thumb touches your clit, rubbing it as he watches you ride his cock, his lips parted slightly like he is seeing one of the seven wonders of the world. His eyes dart between his cock sliding in and out of your cunt and your face contorts with pleasure, moaning every time you slide down his cock.

"Fucking gorgeous." Rafe whispers, thrusting up into you, his pupils dilated when you whimper loudly. He sits up, his hands gripping your waist, moving his face in front of your bouncing tits, taking a nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. "So much better than I imagined, baby."

You place your hands on his shoulders, pussy clenching around his cock. You moan into his ear, kissing his neck as he thrusts up into you, your legs trembling as you draw closer to cumming. "Rafe, I'm gonna cum."

The words cause him to double his efforts, gripping your waist so tight it would leave bruises, his cock filling you up as he fucks you fast. His lips drag across your neck, leaving a mark as his cock brushes against your cervix. "Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like a fucking slut."

You cry out as you come, your cunt tightening around his cock. You bite Rafe's shoulder, muffling your ungodly loud moan. "Fuck, fuck!”

He pulls you back in for a kiss, spilling his seed into your awaiting pussy. Rafe slows to a stop, groaning against your lips, his cock nuzzled deep inside you. Rolling you on your back, he doesn't separate from you, keeping his dick warm as he kisses you languidly. Taking a breath, he breaks the kiss, staring down at you, a small smile gracing his lips. "You alright, sweetheart?"

Tired and content, you return his smile, pussy throbbing around his softening cock. You nod, eyes heavy. "Yeah, you?"

Rafe chuckles quietly. "Yeah, me too."

As your eyes drift close, you feel Rafe press a kiss to your forehead.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

I only want you | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Female!Reader

Summary -> During the party he confesses his feelings for you, he kisses you but the next day he isn’t the same anymore. Your best friend is the biggest idiot you have ever seen and you don’t know why.

Warnings -> Bucky being an idiot, mention of Bucky’s past/trauma, Sharon being a bitch, hurt/comfort, angst, crying, kind of insults, fluff

Wordcount -> 7.1k (it’s long but it’s worth it, I guess)

A/N: I want to thank @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for listening when I came up with that idea as well as supporting me to find the way through all the ideas, and thank you so much for proofreading it, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry when I hurt someone, trust me I cried a lot while I wrote that oneshot but I just needed to write something to calm down my feelings and yeah here we are. I hope you all enjoy it.

Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky isn’t really a drinker, especially not since he became the Winter Soldier. He enjoys the taste, but the serum that is constantly running through his veins makes it impossible for him to experience the effects of the alcohol. It isn’t rare that he wishes to get drunk so he can forget all the memories of the things she did during the time with Hydra. It’s like Thor knew exactly about his thoughts because he is waving a flask of Asgardian Ale in front of Bucky, and the brown-haired man decides it is the perfect opportunity to drink his troubles away.

“Buck, you shouldn’t drink too much of that Asgardian Ale,” you mumble while you sit next to your best friend and look at him. You know about his trouble and about his traumatic past, but you also know it’s never an opportunity to drink it away. He has the glass completely full again and smiles at you.

“It’s oke; I can’t get too drunk. I’m the Wiener Soldier,” he says and bursts out laughing. Then he lifts his glass and turns around. "Cheers!" he shouts through the room, even when it’s almost impossible that someone hears it.

The music is way too loud to hear your own words without shouting. So it isn’t surprising when the people in the room don’t hear what Bucky shouts. Except for the two next to him, you and Steve.

“Cheers, pal!" Steve shouts and lifts his glass as well. He smiles at Bucky before he pours the liquid down his throat. You shake your head and turn around. Your back leans against the counter, and you place your forearms on top of the counter, looking at the people dancing in the middle of the room.

“Haven’t felt like that since the 40’s,” Bucky groans, filling his glass again. Then he turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. “I feel like I’m 20 again; it feels better than I thought. Do you always feel like that?” he asks and places his hand on your shoulder, standing up slowly to stand in front of you.

Then he winks at you while he almost falls to the side. You almost burst out laughing when he tries to grab something to not fall.

“Woah, the room is spinning. I didn’t know Tony was able to build something like that,” your best friend says while holding your shoulders so he won’t fall down.

You look at him and grip his arms to lead him to the seat next to you again, but he doesn’t want to move. You giggle when he leans closer, and the stubble from his beard tickles you. Bucky kisses your cheek softly.

“My lady, wanna dance with me?” he asks and looks at you with the most adorable puppy look.

His blue eyes are almost begging you to dance with him, and even when you would prefer to bring him into his room and make sure he goes to sleep, you can’t say no.

With a nod, you stand up as well, and he wraps his arms immediately around your waist. He doesn’t walk far away from the counter, just a few steps, so the two of you can dance without crashing against something. Bucky spins you around while he holds you still, pressed against him.

You wonder how it must feel for him when the room is already spinning, but the way he smiles and looks at you makes your mind dizzy, and you can’t think of anything other than him. You lay your head against his shoulder, and the heat of his body warms you. His hands are around your waist, making you almost melt in his embrace, and you could stay like that for the rest of the evening.

After a few minutes and Bucky almost lying on the ground and sleeping, you push him to the seats. Making sure he doesn’t miss the chair, when he sits, he immediately looks for his glass.

“Where is it? I’m thirsty," he says, looking at you with a slightly sad gaze.

You feel a bit sorry for him, but you reach for another glass, this time with water. Bucky looks at it skeptically, but then he pours it down his throat. Shaking his head like it’s something awful he doesn’t like. You chuckle, and it makes him look at you.

“Have you ever tried that? That’s awful,” he tells you and offers you the glass even when it’s empty.

“It’s not that bad,” you reply, and you take the glass to place it on the counter next to you.

“We should bring you into your room, you should sleep a bit,” you say, taking his hands into yours.

Before you can pull him up, and with you out of the room, he pulls you closer, and his lips are just a few inches away from yours. He is so close that you can feel his breath against your lips; it's warm and smells strongly of the ale he has consumed. You need to close your eyes for a moment. The man in front of you is making you go crazy.

“I don’t want to go to bed, not yet. I want to kiss you first, can I?” he asks you, and you immediately feel like he is Bucky from the 40’s again. And even when you don’t agree to drink his troubles away, you’re happy that he doesn’t have to suffer with his past right now. And let’s be honest, the 40’s Bucky is a gentleman, and you always wanted to know him; now you have the chance, at least for tonight.

“Doll?” Bucky asks, and you feel a shiver along your spine because of his soft voice.

You look into his eyes and smile softly.

“Of course,” you answer, not sure anymore about the question he asked.

He leans closer and kisses you softly. Bucky’s pink, plumb lips are so soft on yours, you never imagined them being that soft. You slide your hands through his hair, playing with his light curls. His lips move slowly against yours, while he lets you feel everything you tried to avoid when you’re around him. The feeling in your stomach whenever he touches you, the way he looks at you, or talks to you. You adore the way he tells you ‘Doll’ and you enjoy every moment you can spend with your best friend.

And that’s the point where you thought he would never feel the same for you. He is your best friend, and he was always a gentleman, so you were sure he was just nice. And now he is kissing you, with his hands at your waist, holding you close. Bucky is drunk, so you aren’t sure if it’s just a situation of his drunken state, but they always say: drunk people tell the truth, so he would feel the same for you as you feel for him.

When the two of you move a few inches away from each other, you still look into his eyes. His gaze looks a bit foggy, but you can also see the storm in his blue eyes.

“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know. You don’t know what you do to me whenever you look at me or just touch me softly. My feelings go crazy, and whenever another man walks close to you, I want to push them away and tell them you’re mine. I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you,” Bucky says, and he smiles softly, his cheeks turning slightly red. “I have loved you for so long, but I thought you would never love me the same way. I was the Winter Soldier, and I don’t think I deserve someone brave, strong, wonderful, and perfect like you,” he adds, leaning his forehead against yours, wanting you to be as close as possible and feel your warmth.

You smile and press your lips against his again. The tingling feeling in your stomach grows again, and when he stands up, he towers over you, placing his hands around your cheeks, and he pulls you closer.

“I love you so much, my doll,” he whispers and slowly lets go of you, his hands gripping your waist again.

“I love you too, Buck. And you deserve everything good; it wasn’t you when you were the Winter Soldier. You’re a gentleman and the most precious one; I love the way you care about everyone you love,” you tell him, and he blushes.

Bucky lifts one of his hands and presses two of his fingers onto your lips, trying to make you shut up before you can compliment him more.

“You need more than two fingers to make me shut up,” you giggle, and his smile grows before he leans down and presses his lips on yours. He makes you speechless with the way his soft and warm lips move against yours.

“You two are almost disgusting,” Steve mumbles next to you, making you chuckle.

When you and Bucky break the kiss, you look at Steve. He still looks at you and blushes when he recognizes that you caught him looking at you and Bucky.

“You think it’s almost disgusting, but you can’t stop looking at us, huh?” you ask, and he immediately turns his head away while his cheeks get deeply red.

When you turn your head back to look at Bucky, you feel a burning look in your back. Without looking around, you already know the person who is staring at you with the same angry gaze; she always looks at you. Bucky recognizes your thoughtful look and looks up to see the person behind you. His hand clenches around your waist, and you hiss softly.

“Sorry, doll,” he mumbles, immediately losing his grip around your waist.

“Tony is staring at mine,” he growls, and you look around. You see Tony standing on the other side of the room and looking in your direction. He looks annoyed, and when you look a few inches further to the side, you see the person who is burning a hole in your back. Bucky thinks it’s Tony who is looking at you, but you know he is just listening to the person next to him. She is the one who hates you for being Bucky’s best friend, and now she will hate you more because Bucky kissed you. Sharon has had a crush on Bucky since you met her the first time, and he sometimes looks flirty around her, but he is always like that around friends. Otherwise, he would date Tony, Thor, or Steve as well.

The next morning, you wake up to the sun slowly brightening your room. You open your eyes and smile when the flashbacks of the last night come back into your mind. You and Bucky shared a lot more kisses, soft touches, and dances during the night.

You sit up slowly, stretching your limbs, and look at the clock. It’s just a bit after ten in the morning. After a few more minutes where you just look out of the window and enjoy the sun and the comfortable silence in your room, you stand up and walk through your bathroom.

With a few movements, you get out of your clothes and walk into the shower. The hot water runs along your body, and you feel your muscles relaxing under the warmth. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment just for you. In front of your eyes, you see Bucky kissing you the way he did last night. Your fingers are brushing softly over your lips, and for a moment, you feel like he is kissing you again. His hands are around your waist, and his body is pressing against yours.

But when you open your eyes, you just hear the sound of the water and your towel in front of you. No Bucky, right now. Just the thoughts making you smile again and the feeling in your stomach are the most wonderful you have ever felt until now. You are already excited to see him in a few minutes, but first you need to finish your shower and choose some comfortable clothes to wear.

With the biggest smile on your lips, you walk through the floor and into the shared kitchen.

“Someone looks really happy today,” Tony says, and you blush immediately.

Your eyes scan the room, so you can find Bucky and go to him. Talk to him about the last night and make sure you meant what you said. When you walk a few steps further into your room, you see Steve lying on the couch, holding his hand and groaning.

“I don’t know what happened last night. Tony, how can you manage to never have a headache?” he asks, and Tony laughs before he places his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

"Painkillers are really useful. It doesn't help to remember, but they help against the other effects after being drunk,” he says, and Steve nods. He doesn’t want to get up, so he just closes his eyes and tries to sleep a while longer.

You look around and see Bucky in front of the counter. Sharon stands next to him, and her hand rubs his back up and down. You roll your eyes, disgusted about the other girl, as you walk to them.

“Hey, Buck,” you say with a smile, and when the brown-haired man turns around, he smiles softly.

But in another way, as usual, he looks a bit sad, and instead of looking at you, he looks to the side.

“Hey,” he mumbles and takes his bowl with cereal.

Then he walks to the table, and Sharon follows him. You look at them both; maybe he has a hangover? You try to push the negative thoughts away and make yourself a bowl with your favorite cereals. You walk around the table and sit down in front of Bucky; he doesn’t look at you, and he doesn’t talk to you. He was just focused on his cereals and probably deep in his own thoughts.

“Buck?” You ask carefully, and he hums but still doesn’t look up from his bowl. “Can we talk? I mean just you and me?”

He nods in response and finishes his breakfast, then finally looks up to see you. But something is still different when he just loves to look into your eyes and adore the colors, but this time he looks at you like you’re someone else.

He waits until you finish your breakfast as well, and then he follows you through your room. Your best friend closes the door behind himself and looks at you.

“What’s up?” He asks with a cold voice, and you shiver immediately.

“Do you remember last night?” you ask, playing with your hands. You don’t want to look at him; you’re scared about the way he looks at you.

“No, but Sharon told me about it,” he tells you, and you nod softly.

For a moment, the two of you are quiet. You don’t know what to say, but the silence is uncomfortable as well. You shift from one foot to the other, your hands sweating, and you feel like you need to throw up.

“Why are you so cold?” you then ask and look at Bucky.

He clenches his jaw with his eyes staring at you, and the way he looks at you makes you even more uncomfortable. He never looked at you like that; the coldness almost showed hate in his eyes, and you can’t help but feel the tears burning in your eyes. He notices the tears in your eyes, and a sarcastic grin forms on his lips.

“Why are you crying now?” Bucky asks you loudly; you hiss and feel so small in front of him.

“You- Buck, yo-” You start to say something, but he interrupts you.

“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’. You have no right to say that. You don’t deserve to say that,” he shouts, and your eyes widen.

“What do you want me to call you then?” you ask, trying to wipe the tears in your eyes away.

“Use my name. I have it for a reason,” he says, and you nod, not able to say anything.

You don’t know what happened to him. Last night he confessed his love to you, and now he acts like he hates you and has never even thought about loving you.

“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do,” he says, rolling his eyes annoyed.

You feel a tear slowly falling down your cheek, not knowing the man in front of you anymore. He isn’t like your best friend; he isn’t like the one you fall in love with; he isn’t the one who kissed you yesterday; and he isn’t the Bucky, you know.

You shake your head. You want to talk; you really want to, but you can’t. At least not with the man in front of you. Was it all a lie? Was it all just fake? Or what happened that he is the way he is right now.

“Good,” he says, and he turns around to leave the room.

The moment he closes the door behind himself, you break down on the floor. You fall on your knees, the tears streaming down your cheeks, and you’re sobbing loudly. There is no feeling inside of you right now; you feel empty. You stare at the wall in front of you, his face in your mind, his smell, and the way he kissed you last night. You hear his words, like he is standing next to you and saying them to you. The ones of the night when he confesses his love to you and the ones he said a few minutes ago when he was looking at you with his cold, blue eyes.

“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know.”

“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’.”

“I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you.”

“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do.”

It takes a while until you slowly calm down. You're curled on the floor, and the tears are still streaming down your cheeks. But your sobbing is quieter, and you slowly fall asleep on the floor. All the tears and the crying make you so sleepy that you don’t recognize Steve walking into your room and lifting you up to place you in your bed.

He sits next to you, his fingers stroking your hair softly out of your face, and he looks at you with a soft but sad smile. He saw Bucky walking out of the room, his gaze as cold as the whole morning, and even when he doesn’t know what happened at the party, he doesn’t want to leave you alone. But he also doesn’t want to interrupt you while you’re crying because he knows you would have to hide it, and he knows you need to let the feelings out of your body.

You don’t sleep well; nightmares interrupt your sleep every time, but you’re too tired to stay awake for a while. In every dream is Bucky; first he helps you, but in the next moment he shouts at you, laughs at you, and does everything you never thought he would do to you. You’re sweating and whimpering in your sleep, turning from one side to the other.

Steve tries to comfort you with his hand on your thigh, but it doesn’t work. With widened eyes, you wake up, starting to cry again for a few minutes before you fall asleep again. You don’t mind if someone sees you crying or not; you can’t escape Bucky, his coldness, not even in your dreams, and it robs you of all of the strength you have.

“Y/N?” Steve asks when you’re awake, but you turn around so you don’t have to face him.

You mumble a soft ‘mhm’. Steve sighs, his fingers drawing small circles on your thigh.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks, but you shake your head.

You just want to be alone right now. Steve nods and stands up, walking through the door, but before he leaves the room, he turns to you.

“If you need me, you can call me or just come to my room,” he offers.

“Thank you,” you whimper, and the tears are streaming down your face again.

You can’t stop thinking about Bucky; he is burned in your mind like something you need to be. Something you need to be happy, and yes, he is someone you need to be happy. Without him, it doesn’t feel the same; watching your favorite movie wouldn’t be as fun because there is someone missing who holds you when you cry out of joy because they are married. Playing board games wouldn’t be the same because the one freaking out because he doesn’t get what he wants isn't playing the board games with you. Eating your favorite snacks and ice cream wouldn’t be the same because the one man who always laughs about your snack and ice cream decisions wouldn’t laugh. The one cuddling up wouldn’t let you cuddle with him, and you would miss HIS warmth and HIS scent. It’s not just a man; it’s the ONE man; it’s Bucky.

Wrapped in your blanket, you sit against the headboard of your bed. Looking through the channels for something that could distract you. But you feel like Bucky is manipulating the television because every channel shows a movie you used to watch with Bucky.

Everything reminds you of him: every place, every movement. Every second reminds you of Bucky, the memories you both have, and the moments you shared. And now he treats you like you’re the worst thing he has ever seen, and there is no reason why he does it, right?

You don’t want to sit in your room, but you don’t want to see Bucky somewhere as well. But you feel hungry after some time, and even when you wish you didn’t have to stand up to get some food, you don’t want to make yourself feel worse just because of Bucky.

So you slowly get up; it’s already afternoon when you walk through your room. Before you reach the door, you see the pictures on your wall. He and you took so many pictures during trips or parties, some when he was joking and others when he tried to look mad. Even when he really looks like a pouting puppy, when he tries to look mad at you, you always laugh about his pouting face.

You open your door and immediately hear the voices of the others. But there are not a lot of them; just three of them are there and talk. Steve, Bucky, and Sharon. With quiet footsteps, you walk closer to the room. You look at the floor, hoping that no one will see you.

But when your feet meet the ground in the room, the gazes of the three of them are immediately on you. Steve smiles sadly when he sees you. You probably look like a wrack, with red eyes and tears all over your face, but you don’t mind. Sharon looks at you with a smile, and Bucky is as cold as before.

When you make your way to the counter, you hear Sharon flirting with Bucky, and you feel like you want to throw up. You hate her, especially since she is a jealous bitch when you’re with Bucky. And now he has him for himself - exactly the plan she had.

“Buck, look at me,” she says, and you look around to see what they do. That’s the moment you wish you wouldn’t be in the room right now. Sharon leans closer, and her lips meet Bucky’s softly. His arms are wrapped around her waist, and you see yourself in her. The moment you had last night, and now he kisses her, not the one he confessed his love to last night.

The tears forming in your eyes - they're burning. They slowly stream down your cheeks, but you don't make a noise; you just look at them until they break the kiss, and Sharon looks at you with a wide bitch smile again.

“You’re right!" you shout, and Bucky turns around to look at you as well.

With a confused gaze, the two men look at you, and you chuckle sarcastically.

“You don’t deserve me. You’re an idiot, and I would prefer to be killed by the Winter Soldier instead of being your best friend,” you shout, and you see the change in his gaze.

You don’t mean it, not really, but the anger inside of you lets you say things like that.

You see, you hurt him by saying that he has nightmares because of the Winter Soldier; he blames himself for that, and you were the one who was able to give him moments where he didn’t blame himself, but now that you mention the Winter Soldier in a way, you hurt him the most you can. And you’re sorry for that, but you hate him so much right now that you can’t stop yourself from telling him things like that.

“I feel like he would love more than you ever can,” you say, and you walk a few steps closer to him. “I hate you, in a way I never thought it would be possible,” you hiss and turn away to grab some food from the counter before you leave the room.

Bucky looks at you, and the moment those words leave your mouth, his small world breaks a bit more. The only person who loved him so much hates him now. But he deserves it, doesn’t he? And he can’t bring himself to walk to you and ask what he did because he is way too mad at you for a reason he doesn’t want to admit in front of you.

It's been a week now since you saw Sharon and Bucky kissing each other. The day he started to be an ass and the day you told him he didn’t deserve you. And you didn’t change your mind; he hasn't been nice to you since that day; he ignores you; he doesn’t even look at you. His arms are always around Sharon’s body, and his lips are on hers.

You don’t really care about yourself anymore; you’re mostly in your room, crying or just laying there and waiting until you finally fall asleep. Steve tries every day to get you out of bed and wants to plan your favorite trips, but every one of them reminds you of Bucky, and you prefer your warm and comforting bed.

Someone knocks at your door, and you hum in response before Steve opens the door.

“Want to eat something? I cooked, and you need to eat,” he says, but you shake your head and turn around so you don’t have to face him.

Steve sighs softly and walks closer to you. He sits next to you on your bed and runs his fingers along your side.

“Do you want to tell me what happened between you and Buck? He looks different as well since the party,” Steve says thoughtfully, and you slowly turn around to look at him.

Your eyes are red, and he can see the tears all over your cheeks. Steve lifts his hand and wipes the tears away, smiling softly at you. You slowly sit up, your back against the headboard of your bed, and you pull your knees against your chest, wrapping your arms around them and placing your head on your knees.

“I thought-“ you sob quietly. “He said he loved me, and then he suddenly was with Sharon,” you mumble, and you can’t stop the tears again.

“He told you he loved you? When? I mean, I know it, but when did he tell you?” Steve asks, and your eyes widen for a moment.

He knows that Bucky loves you? What happened to Bucky being the way he is when he really loves you? Why is he kissing Sharon when he could have you? He could have the one he really loves.

“At the party, he told me he loved me. He kissed me,” you mumble, and Steve’s jaw drops.

“He finally managed it?” he asks, and you nod.

“And the next day he was the idiot he is, kissing Sharon, and it looks like they are happy together,” you tell him, and he shakes his head.

“I need to talk to him,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You look at him while he leaves your room. He almost runs out of it, and you don’t know why, but you don’t mind. Steve wants to talk to Bucky, but it won’t change his feelings for Sharon. And maybe Bucky thought it was her when the two of you kissed. Maybe he thought it was her when he confessed his feelings.

Meanwhile, Steve rushes into Bucky’s room. He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the television. He doesn’t want to see Sharon today; he misses you, even when it’s just looking at you or hearing you talk. But since you’re in your room and only outside when you’re sure no one else is outside, he hasn’t heard or seen you in days.

“Buck?” Steve asks softly, and Bucky turns his head to look at the brown-haired man. He looks more broken than ever before. Steve walks closer to Bucky and lets himself fall next to his best friend in bed. “Where is Sharon?” he asks, and Bucky shrugs.

“Don’t care,” he says, and he stares in front of him again.

“Pal, what happened that you’re the way you are with y/n?” Steve looks at Bucky and sees the small tear escaping the corner of his eye.

"Nothing; she doesn’t want me,” he answers, and Steve chuckles softly. Stubborn idiot, but still his best friend and the idiot in love with you.

“She told me you confessed your love for her. And the two of you kissed. When she told me, I remembered, and it was her; it wasn’t Sharon, pal,” Steve continues, and Bucky’s eyes widen before he looks at his best friend again.

“We did what? And Sharon, what?” he asks.

“You kissed. You and y/n. But Sharon was just standing next to Tony on the other side of the room and was staring at the two of you,” he repeats, telling Bucky what he remembers. Bucky shakes his head, thinking about the version of the party and then the version he heard.

That’s definitely not what he heard about the evening. That’s not even similar to the things someone told him about.

“No, that’s not true,” Bucky says thoughtfully. “But even when, don't you know anymore what she said? She hates me, Steve." Bucky mumbles, and he feels even worse when he thinks about you, the way he treats you, and the things you said to him. Even when he understands it now, he understands why you said those things.

“I need to talk to her,” Bucky mumbles, but then he shakes his head. “Do you think she would listen?” he asks and looks at Steve, who nods.

“She is in love with you. Even when you’re such an idiot,” Steve tells him, pushing his best friend up. “Talk to her, pal,” he says, and Bucky smiles softly before he walks through the door.

He isn’t sure what to say when he talks to you. Maybe you don’t want to listen; maybe you won’t understand. Or do you really hate him now? Do you want to see him? So many thoughts run through his mind while he walks along the floor, unsure what to do or say when you ignore him or if he messed up after all the things with Sharon.

Bucky reaches your door and knocks softly. He hears your softy ‘come in’ and he opens the door. Now it’s too late to turn around; he has to talk to you now. You look at him, and your gaze gets. immediately cold.

“James,” you say, and he shivers slightly.

He didn’t know something inside of him could break more, but when you called him ‘James’ with that cold voice, something inside of him broke more.

“Doll,” he mumbles, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t call me that; call your new fucktoy that,” you hiss, and he looks at the floor.

You’re mad; he has never seen you like that before, but he can’t blame you. You’re hurt, and he is the reason for that. He hurts you so badly, but he loves you so much more than he can ever tell you. He can’t and doesn't want to be without you when there is just a percent chance for him to be yours. He would do everything to be yours.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He hates when you’re so harsh and cold, but he understands it.

“What do you want here?” you ask, and he plays with his hands before he answers.

“I want to talk to you,” Bucky says quietly, and you chuckle sarcastically.

“I don’t want to talk to you, James,” you say, and you see him wiping some tears away.

“Please,” he begs, but you shake your head. “Can you please listen to me? Please?” he tries again, and he doesn’t want to go without telling you everything he feels, everything about the way he acted, especially why he acted like that. “Doll, please listen to me. Just this time, if you want me to go, then I will, and I will never talk to you again if you don’t want me to,” he says and sobs quietly.

You haven’t seen Bucky crying; sometimes he looked like he was about to cry, but he never cried. And now he stands in front of you, begging and crying for you to listen to him. And you want to listen, but the anger inside of you gets in control of you.

“You could have talked to me earlier. I fucking- I don’t care anymore,” you shout, and he flinches.

The strong super soldier looks like a small boy.

“Please, I love-“

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear all those lies anymore. Just shut up and go with those lies to your new girl,” you say, anger in your voice, and Bucky can’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks.

He hurt you more than he thought he did. But he was so mad at you; he was mad about the things he heard. And now he is about to lose the most important person in his life. He loves you more than everything; he never loved someone as much as he loves you.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I really am. I love you,” he whispers, and you shake your head sarcastically, laughing.

“I saw that. You treated me like the worst person you know; that’s love for you?" you ask, and he immediately shakes his head.

“No, but I didn’t know about the things that happened during the party,” he says, and he walks a step closer, slowly, to make sure you’re oke with it.

You want to throw him out of your room, but you also want to know what happened and why he was the way he was. He wouldn’t beg and cry when it wasn't important to him. So you accept when he takes a seat at the edge of your bed and looks at you. His eyes are red, and you can see the traces of his tears on his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, still blaming himself for doing all this to you. Bucky wants to touch you; he wants to hug you; and he wishes you would tell him it’s oke. But he knows he needs to explain his behavior before he can get some of that; when you’re ready to do it, then.

“What happened that night?”

He is interested in knowing what happened, and you clear your throat before you think about it again. When he turned into an idiot, you tried to avoid all his touches, his words, and his kisses so you didn’t need to cry all the time. And now he wants to know the truth, and you want to tell him, but you don’t want to cry because of that.

“Thor had some Asgardian alcohol there, and it made you drunk. We danced a bit; you told me you loved me; you kissed me,” you tell him, and he nods.

“You didn’t flirt with someone else?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“No, why should I? I love you, and I was happy you felt the same, but then you acted completely different the next day,” you mumble and look at him.

Bucky is playing with his fingers; you see the way he suffers because of his metal arm, and you remember the things you said about the Winter Soldier, and he probably hates his metal arm even more now.

“Why did you do it the way you did, and why are you suddenly so nice again?” you ask, and his jaw clenches slightly. Not in an angry way, but more in a thoughtful clenching.

“The morning after the party, I had a bad hangover and didn’t remember much of that night. I know that I kissed someone, but I don’t know the person. Sharon came into the room, and she asked me how the party was, and I told her I didn't know because I had too much alcohol. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and when I asked her why she said I kissed her that night,” he tells you, and you nod, blaming yourself for being the same way to Bucky as he was to you, even though it’s not his fault.

“I told her I don’t love her because I love you. And she told me about your night with a guy I don’t know. Sharon said you were flirting with me, but you have someone else, and you were flirting with me so you can make jokes with your boy about me being so dumb and really think you could love me the way I love you,” he continues, and your jaw drops slightly.

“Bu- James, there is no one else. I love you, and when you changed into the idiot you were, I hated the thought of you touching Sharon and the way you kissed her. But when you love me, why did you kiss her?” you ask, and Bucky runs his fingers through his hair.

“I wanted a distraction,” he whispers quietly, ashamed of that.

For a moment, you both sit in silence, looking at each other. “Did you really mean it?” he asks, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"When you said those things about the Winter Soldier?” He asks, and you see his hands shaking softly. His anxiety gets worse when he thinks about your answer; maybe you could really mean it? Maybe you really think the Winter Soldier could love more than Bucky can?

“No, I was mad. I’m sorry, Buck,” you say, and he nods. You smile softly when he doesn’t tell you to stop calling him ‘Buck’. “I’m really sorry, but I didn’t see how much I would hurt you with that,” you add.

“I think I deserve it,” he replies, and you want to agree, but you also know it would make him feel worse.

He was an idiot, but now that he sits there, he begs and cries that you listen to him so he can excuse his behavior. He blames himself for so much; you don’t want him to blame himself for more.

“Buck?” you ask, and he hums in response. “Tell me the truth, please.”

You look into his eyes; the blue is as warm as the one you’re used to seeing when he is with you.

“I love you, doll. I never wanted to hurt you; I want to be yours. I want you to be mine,” he says, blushing slightly. You don’t know what to say. You want to tell him you feel the same, but at the same time, you’re scared he will go to Sharon when you’re not enough for him anymore. “I’m sorry, you had to listen. But thank you for listening,” he tells you and stands up to leave the room.

You reach for his metal arm, and he flinches when you touch it.

“Sorry,” you say, slightly shocked, and let go of his arm. Bucky turns around and smiles softly.

“Just didn’t think you would touch it.” His voice is so soft, exactly the way you love when he talks to you.

“Can you stay?” you ask and look down; maybe he would prefer to go to Sharon because you were really mean?

Bucky’s smile grows, and he lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arms around your body, pulling you into his lap. His hands slide your back up and down, and he looks into your eyes like they are the most adorable things he has ever seen. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you play with his soft hair.

He leans closer, his lips almost touching yours, when you stop him.

“Did you brush your teeth and clean your face after she kissed you?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, and Bucky can’t stop himself and bursts out laughing.

“Yes,” he whispers, and he places one of his hands on your neck to pull you closer. His lips touch yours softly, and you almost melt in his embrace. Bucky moves his lips against yours, and a small smile appears on his lips.

“I love you, James,” you mumble against his lips, and he rolls his eyes.

“Can you be serious for a moment, doll?” he asks, laughing, and you look like you need to think about it before you answer him.

“I don’t know what you mean, James,” you giggle.

“But I love you too, doll,” he chuckles, pressing his lips on yours again to make you shut up and feel you as close as possible in that moment. He feels complete and comfortable now, being with his girl, the one he loves more than everyone, the one who loved him even when he was the Winter Soldier.

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @km-ffluv | @kandis-mom | @lives-in-midgard | @bucky-barnes-lover | @felicitylemon | @sweater-bee | @identity2212 | @cjand10 | @bookishtheaterlover7 | @harleycao | @buckyalpine (I tag you here because I can’t find the post where you asked for angst oneshots)

[urfavleo777]

joost klein x fem!oc smut

warnings: fingering, language.

The club near the beach seemed to be a favorite attraction for tourists.

After midnight, every corner was bustling with life, people were constantly smiling and exchanging long discussions at the tables. There was no room for lack of alcohol; every table was decorated with at least one bottle of wine or, in crazy cases, vodka. The music playing in the background pushed guests towards the dance floor, where they danced to the rhythm of fast songs.

“It's only our third day and we have already made this place our tradition.” My friend Lena exclaimed, accidentally spilling her glass of vodka. “Fuck! I knew everything was going too well!”

Amber and I burst into laughter as we watched our friend make sloppy movements to wash away the stinking liquid. Amber was really beautiful. She had large, almost black eyes. Quite strong makeup emphasized her delicate facial features and full lips.

We met her on the first day of our trip in the Netherlands. We bumped into each other while looking for a hotel in Noordwijk; or rather, we were saved by her. The taxi dropped me and Lena off at a remote location, both of our phones were dead, so we didn't know how to get to the hotel. The fact that it was only a few minutes after midnight didn't help at all. I remember thinking we would be stuck there forever.

Fortunately, we found Amber on a dark street where she was returning from work. She calmed us down and helped us find our way. We thanked her, she wrote her phone number on a piece of paper and the next day she took us here; to a lively beachside pub. We've been coming here every night since then.

“Come on, I'll help you wash it off. It's a waste of such a pretty dress.” She said calmly, standing up and leading Lena towards the door marked with a triangle symbol. Lena's crimson lips curved into a slight smile and she looked at me, her look instantly revealing her shock and nervousness. Oh, I knew exactly how Lena felt about Amber. She told me that the day after we met, they exchanged messages. I often caught her smiling at the phone, but out of respect for them, I chose to act as if I knew nothing.

“We'll be right back, Y/n. Maybe you'll find yourself a nice gentleman who will make your evening even more pleasant!” A smirk appeared on Lena's face. I rolled my eyes, hiding my amusement.

“Have fun and don’t get lost this time!” Amber called after me and giggled.

“Maybe you'd better not come back!” I stuck my tongue out at them in a mocking way.The girls gave me the middle finger before the door finally closed.

I sighed, taking a sip of vodka, washing it down with Pepsi. I felt the vibrations on my body, despite my fatigue I felt the call of the music. There was a smell of alcohol in the air and the smell of smoke released from time to time from under the DJ console. 

After one glass of alcohol in a row, I stopped feeling tired. A dance floor full of dancing people seemed damn tempting. The thumping bass and catchy beats effectively encouraged me to devote myself to the music. 

Seconds and minutes passed and the girls didn't come back. White light flashed from the ceiling from time to time, blinding for a second. I squinted a bit and checked the time on my phone. 01:01 AM.

Suddenly I felt someone's eyes on me. This may sound funny because, hey, I was just in a crowded club, it's normal for people to look at each other. But this was different, I felt frustrated when someone was staring at me and I didn't even know who.

I looked up from my phone and then I saw him.  A few tables in front of me, a man sat alone, sipping a drink. His blond hair was messy and disheveled, and he was wearing thick-rimmed glasses. Something moved strangely inside me when our eyes met. He gave me a brave smirk that it sent shivers down my spine.

When he realized that I had exposed him, he took off his glasses and put them on the table. However, he was too far away for me to get a good look at his facial features. I noticed that he was holding a cigarette in the fingers of his right hand. He took a drag of it, watching me in concentration. Is smoking even allowed in clubs?

Girl, you're in the Netherlands. I reminded myself.

“Y/n!” I heard someone shouting my name as I turned back and saw Amber and Lena running towards me. When they both took their seats, I had a perfect view of their rosy cheeks, uneven breathing and the abashed glances they were sending to each other. I suppressed a smile with a clear throat. “I'm sorry you had to wait so long. Lena got her dress so dirty that we had to take it all off to clean it.”

Why is everybody having sex except me?

“Oh, I can certainly imagine that. Actually, I’m tired of sitting in one place all the time. How about hitting the dance floor?”

“Finally! I thought you'd never ask!” Lena squealed, grabbing both of our hands.

About half a minute later we were in a different state of consciousness. The colorful spotlights seemed brighter and the music seemed louder. We were jumping to the rhythm of some electronic song, shouting its lyrics to each other. The song was in a foreign language and it was the first time I heard it, so Amber was probably the only one in our group who sang the lyrics correctly. My legs were burning with fire. It's been a long time since I spent such a long time on the dance floor dancing non-stop, but I enjoyed it. 

Now I was much closer to the table of the man who was staring at me with incredible passion.

I looked at him again, and when we made eye contact, he winked at me. The stranger, dressed in black jeans and a gray hoodie, stared at me with an unreadable expression, blonde hair falling across his forehead. I didn't even know his name, but everything about him was suddenly stirring something inside me. His blonde hair. High cheek bones. His mustache. The tattoos on his hands. His smile too. It was something I couldn't look away from. As if I'd seen him somewhere before, but couldn’t recall where.

When “Careless whisper” started playing and Amber and Lena started to get closer to each other, I decided to leave them alone.

I gave a thumbs up to give Lena courage. She smiled shyly and placed her hands on Amber's waist. I apologized to the people around me and left the dance floor, heading outside. I needed to get some fresh air, and more specifically, listen to the sound of the sea waves.

The night was cold and the wind bit at my bare arms, chills running through my body. I sat down on the sand and scolded myself for not bringing anything to cover my head and shoulders. 

I inhaled sharply and then listened to my heartbeat because I was alone. I didn't worry about getting my dress dirty. It was worth it for this view. 

I started to feel dizzy. I felt like I was about to fall asleep. I shouldn’t have drank too much.

"Enjoyed dancing to one of my songs, huh?" I suddenly heard a raspy voice from behind me. I turned around to experience the biggest shock of my life. It was the same man who had ogled me in the club. I looked at him with wide eyes. The moonlight fell on him, making his honey skin shine, while the wind blew, making his hair move gently. Even the moon wasn't as beautiful as him.

I scrunched my nose. I tried to recreate all the songs I danced to in my head. I didn't have to wait long until he finally sat down next to me.

“You're a musician?”

He let out a small chuckle and, oh my God, his laugh was so hot. 

“Yeah, something like that. But lately people have gotten used to calling me Europapa. I guess, I don't have a name anymore.” I laughed at his words. After his hint, I was finally able to figure out what song he was the author of.

“Ah, it's you. I knew you reminded me of someone. In my country, people already made you a global superstar.”  He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked.

“Oh, really? Where are you from?”

I nodded. “Poland, straight from the capital. How about you, Joost?”

I used his name for the first time since I could finally remember it. Judging by the expression on his face, I had to amuse him with my pronunciation because he started laughing. The smile disappeared from my face.

“No, no, no. Mh, I live in Leeuwarden, but currently I’m on tour. Came here in order to relieve my stress a bit. And you can call me whatever you want.”

I almost offered him another way to relieve his stress. It took all my might to hold back my laughter.

“Oh, I feel flattered.”

For a moment I looked at his shapely lips. Of course, he noticed that.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” I mumbled in a quiet voice, not knowing what to say.

“Can I get your name?” He asked finally.

“It's Y/n.” I said honestly, looking straight into his blue eyes. “Do you have anything to explain how you were devouring me with your eyes earlier?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, mentally scolding myself. I really should learn to keep my mouth shut.

I looked up, immediately seeing a wide smile on Joost's face.

“Sorry. You're just so fucking pretty, I couldn't help myself.”

I bit my lip, suppressing a loud moan. I hated myself for how much he affected me.

“Can I?” He asked before placing his hand on my bare thigh. I nodded excitedly, waiting for him to move, which made him laugh a little.

“Mh- yes. Please.” I added with a pleading look on my face.

He dragged his hand slowly to my inner thigh, tossing my leg over his thigh, and made a low humming noise that vibrated from his chest.

Before I knew it, Joost's lips were smushed against mine in a passionate kiss. I gasped into his mouth as I melted against his lips, my hands resting comfortably on his muscled arms as his laid against my warm neck. Joost grasped the underside of my thighs and pulled me off the ground, wrapping my legs around his hips. 

“Joost..” I moaned breathily as his puffy lips attacked my neck, “I need you.”

“Of course you do, who wouldn't?” He teased, leading me towards his car. It was so dark that even if someone had been on that beach with us, wouldn’t have noticed us.

“Such a narcissist.”

Joost chuckled, “You know, if you shut that slutty mouth for once, you'd be so pretty.”

He opened the car door and put me in the back seat. After a while, he closed the door and sat down next to me.

“Oh, Y/n. I will give your body exactly what it deserves.” He said, a wide grin on his face as he leaned down to kiss me once more.

I bit my bottom lip and answered with one simple word.

“Yes.”

Joost wasted no time. He placed me on his lap and rolled up my tight dress. He moved his hands all over my body, making me go crazy.

“Your body is art.” He murmured.

His eyes pierced through mine, his gaze so intense that I almost melted on top of him. My hand shyly reached for his, playing around with his fingers and I moved my eyes down to look at what we were doing. “Is that what you want?” His voice was soft as if to not scare me away. “You want my fingers?” I looked in his eyes again and nodded my head quickly, feeling a tingling sensation on my stomach from the excitement. His other hand came up to caress my cheek and a little smirk could be seen on his lips. 

I moved on his lap when I was ready and one of his hands grabbed my hip while the other one ran up and down my thigh.

“Please.” I moaned, grasping his forearm tightly as I scrunched my face up in pleasure.

His fingertips brushed through my folds, coating them in my juices and I whined when I felt him rub slowly at my clit. “You're a soaking mess, baby.” His voice was so calm, a contrast to how shaky my breath was.

I gasped and he started applying more pressure to my clit. He eased one of his fingers inside me and a soft moan left my lips, my hips moving to ride his finger, his eyes intensely staring at me. “More.” I whined quietly.

“More?” He smirked and inserted another finger, feeling how my walls clenched around his digits, his hand moving to match the movements of my hips, thrusting his finger in and out of my pussy and I could ear the wet sounds it did.

“I'm so c-close, Joost. Just like that.” I moaned louder, locking his fingers between my legs. 

“Cum on my fingers, baby.”

“Oh God,” I cried out as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through my body.

When I was done, he slowly removed his fingers from my pussy, moving them to his mouth, sucking my juices from them, grunting at the taste of me which made me sigh heavily at the sight in front of me.

“Take off your pants, Joost.”

“Of course, baby.” He chuckled, politely following my order.

[leth-writes]

SOULMATE AU

-inspired by the mind-reading prompt from the soulmate prompts I reblogged

-also inspired by the posts of the lovely SlasherScream!

-the idea is essentially that once you meet, your minds merge

Bruce Wayne

Oh no. OH NO!

All i can picture is Bruce panicking. He’s terrified by the idea of you seeing into his head, of seeing how broken he feels he is. Bruce is ultimately dictated by his trauma and his love for his family, and these two forces are in constant conflict in his mind, leading to a mindscape that can be incredibly jarring. Sometimes it feels like his brain is being pulled in two between the logical and emotional halves, though the logical side often pushes the emotional side far, far down. He really suppresses those emotions in an attempt not to get hurt again.

Bruce has spent so much time suppressing his emotions that his mind is overly logical. Being in his mind is like being in an episode of an investigative show, constant thoughts and a whirlwind of deductions. It feels like he’s got the entire world figured out, especially before you’re able to really connect. He tries so hard to force you out of the darker corners of his mind, boxing them away in the deepest reaches so you can’t stumble into his deep, dark thoughts, worries, and memories.

When you first meet, his mindscape feels almost… shallow due to the boxing away of so many parts of him. It feels almost like you’re seeing Brucie, rather than Bruce; just a shallow facade meant to draw your attention away. This can be remedied by showing how much you trust him. Get comfortable around him, don’t show any judgment, and open up some of your own forgotten memories. Seeing such a display of kindness and trust will help convince him to be fully honest with you, but it takes a couple of months for him to grant you access to the totality of his mind. It’s slow-going, but it’s definitely worth it.

Bruce’s mindscape feels like a black and white detective film, funnily enough. It’s sharp and cold at first, but those edges meld together the more you unravel his hidden corners, creating a more impressionistic mindscape full of fleeting emotional impressions. It surprises you just how smart he can be; you knew he was a master detective but you weren’t expecting the level of deduction he’s truly capable of. He’s got you fully figured out in minutes.

When you blend together, it’s like a wonderful impressionistic melding of more logical and more empathetic mindscapes into one full world. Spend some time getting to know him, spend some time slowly opening up, and you’ll be rewarded with a beautiful experience. Moving forward, he’s going to be even more protective than he normally would, mainly out of fear; you know everything about him, which definitely puts a target on your back. Having someone who is mentally connected to one of the most powerful men in the city, both in and out of the cowl, is tantalizing to both supervillains and his enemies in his daily life. Don’t let the harsh words and rumors get to you, Bruce defends you in the public eye constantly. It becomes almost an inside joke among the press in Gotham; ask Brucie about his soulmate and you’ll see a cold side to him no-one’s ever noticed before.

Dick Grayson

Dick’s mindscape is, at first, seemingly one-note. When you first meld, it feels like his mind is a deep, clear pool; you feel like you can see right to the bottom. You both spend a lot of time just cuddling, exploring your shared mindscape together, feeling like you’ve found an oasis in the desert. It feels calming, like soothing balm to your overworked mind. Dick often compares your mind to a burst of color in the dark, feeling like you light his mind up, bringing positivity and light when he’s trapped in his dark thoughts. Don’t be fooled by the depths you’re able to access right away; Dick has some hidden compartments of his mind he’s not even consciously aware of.

Dick has locked his true longing for his parents, and his desire to lead a normal life, deep in the recesses in his mind, to save himself from emotional harm. He loves his parents to this day, and visits their grave to update them on his life all the time. It hurts him to think they aren’t there to see his accomplishments, but he knows deep down they would be proud. He begins writing letters and taking pictures of the two of you, all to place at their grave, so it feels they’re connected to him even now, with their deaths so far in his past. Please visit their grave with him; bring some flowers or some food, tell them about yourself and how much you love him. It’ll move him almost to tears.

Dick also feels a deep longing for a normal life. He’d never truly act on these urges, he can’t imagine ever giving up Nightwing, and feels a deep sense of responsibility for his city, but he does have some desires to experience the intimate, domestic life. He feels even more responsible for the safety of the city after he meets you, and might drive himself ragged trying to keep you safe by clearing out every villain in the city. He doesn’t stop until he’s almost killed, and he feels the panic and despair in your mind as you clutch his hand in the medbay, sobbing your eyes out. Afterwards, he spends more time on the domestic aspects of life, and reveals those hidden desires. Seeing you so upset, feeling your mind almost shatter under the weight of your fear and grief, motivates him to keep you safe by keeping him safe. He’s less likely to take risks, and sometimes even passes up the more dangerous missions to the Justice League as a whole. 

He totally gets you cheesy gifts. I think that, in a world of mind melds, there’d be stupid little keychains that say stuff like “I met my soulmate and all I got was this lousy keychain”. You hate it, but you use it as a keychain to remind yourself of him every time he’s away. He buys you a lot of Nightwing merch as well. Please wear it, even if it’s just to feel his mindscape stutter out of shock and awe. He loves how cozy you look in that oversized Nightwing sweater; he begs you to make it a permanent part of your nightly wardrobe.

Dick is known for his long rants to the press about how amazing you are, even though in actuality he gives them no identifying features. The press feels they know you so well they don’t even realize they have no idea who you are. He’s known for his smitten, lovestruck sighs and swooning every time they ask about you, beaming so hard his face hurts and filling everyone in on how you “just looked so cute wearing that oversized sweater, so cozy, I thought I was gonna die!”. It’s part facade, part reality. He’s just letting his true feelings out with the mushiest language possible.

Your melded mindscape is like a deep lake, mainly clear and visible, with some darker murkier parts you can explore together. It’s like a balm against overactive minds, calming and cooling down any tempers and giving you a space to explore yourself and your past with someone who’s truly welcoming.

Jason Todd

Jason’s mind is really intense, really quickly. It’s like a burst of color and noise, all of his worst feelings and thoughts being forced to the forefront by the surprise of the meld. He would do well with a calmer presence who can soothe his mental energy, bringing him down from that overactive constant anger and worry. It’s important to realize that Jason isn’t always gonna be like that, but the lazarus pit has really messed with his mental state in a lot of large, and even more unnoticed, ways.

The mental bond really goes a long way to calm him down. Having another person sharing his mindspace gives him a reason to see a therapist and work through his trauma, trying to make himself more appealing and less scary to you. Please let him know he doesn’t scare you; being able to feel that warmth and affection will go a long way in his journey to change. Jason ultimately wants to do better for you, even though he feels the lazarus pit has corrupted everything. He gets really emotional, knowing his death and the pit have even corrupted something so sacred as a mental bond. Help him acknowledge that it isn’t his fault, and that you truly care for him, no matter the state of his thoughts, and you’ll unlock that softer, more tender side.

Jason deals with a lot of intrusive thoughts due to the pit. He’d love it if you helped, though he always reminds you it’s okay if you don’t feel able to do so. Just helping him let them pass, rather than trying to suppress them, will do wonders for his mental state and really help lighten up his mindscape.

Jason’s mindscape, at first, is like a storm over the north sea; huge, crashing waves and whipping, howling winds strong enough to split him in half. It can feel overwhelming, like you’re a little boat lost in this huge force of nature, with the threat of capsizing constant. However, please know that Jason would never, ever hurt you. He’d rather never see you again, no matter how much it would hurt him, than make you scared. As you two work together, going to therapy and doing calming exercises, Jason’s mindscape will eventually reveal itself to be a calm night at sea, the waves like glass; clear and smooth, but still with that slight possibility of harm. It can be really nice just spending time with him, him reading aloud his favorite Jane Austen novel, being gently rocked by the soothing wave of the mind meld.

Jason is intensely private. The press quickly finds out not to so much as mention his soulmate, as it sets him off into an angry rant about privacy and what it means to be a public figure. Jason has never hated his fame more than when he wasn’t able to go out with you without fear of being discovered. Uncle Clark offers to fly you both out to another country, giving you opportunities to date without the threat of the press breathing down your neck. He’ll take you to a French restaurant, surprising you with his perfect French, and then eat ice cream with you while you stare into the waters of the Seine as the sun sets. He’s a true romantic at heart.

[wintersoldiersoul]

Bucky x pregnant reader

Bucky started working from home and everything was great! You spend time together and made plans for Baby coming along but the longer Bucky stayed at home the more he hid himself away in his office working, and one day as your hormones kick in, you're feeling very emotional and just wanting cuddles from him, so you go to his office and ask him about coming to bed and cuddling and he just says he's busy he will be there soon and you say that he's been working all day and you haven't seen him and he ends up snapping at you and it makes you cry and you tell him that you don't want to see him for the rest of the night and storm away, after a while bucky can't concentrate on work because he made you cry and he comes to find you and when he finds you aren't in your shared bedroom he panics thinking you left him and he shouts and runs around the full house only to find you curled up sleeping on the bed in your baby's room and he carries you to bed and apologises and tells stark that he won't be working anymore until the baby is here and settled

I wanna carry his children so fucking bad. What who said that?

The day that you told Bucky you were pregnant was the best day of his life. He couldn’t believe that you, the love of his life, was carrying his child. You were going to make him a father, something he thought he’d never get to be. You were terrified to tell him, as the pregnancy wasn’t planned but the second he burst out in a wide grin, you cried. You were hoping that Bucky would be on the same page as you in terms of keeping it.

Within an hour, he had called Tony and asked for permission to work from home for the duration of your pregnancy. He wanted to keep an eye on you 24/7, especially since you were carrying his super soldier baby. He treated you like precious cargo, bringing you everything you wanted, carrying you when you complained about your feet hurting, and constantly giving you stomach and back rubs.

The two of you were in a state of complete bliss, setting up the nursery, picking out potential names, and going on shopping sprees for your future child. Bucky sobbed when you found out you were having a girl. He couldn’t believe it. “I hope she looks just like her mother,” he said, smiling.

You would often wake up in the morning finding Bucky’s lips pressed against your stomach, whispering to your unborn child. “Your mama is so pretty, you know. So kind, too. And oh my god, is she smart,” he would say, not realizing you were yet awake. “You’re so lucky because you have the best mom in the world.”

“Your daddy isn’t too bad either,” you said, announcing your presence. “I hope you have his eyes.” He smiled, moving up to kiss you gently.

Unfortunately, even though he was working from home and not going on missions, Bucky still had to work. He was tasked with a lot of research before the other team members would go out onto the field. He had to do all of the mission reports and put together briefings. And as luck would have it, 8 months into your pregnancy, the team was facing a big threat.

Bucky began to spend hours and hours in his office every day. He was trying to get it done as fast as possible but there was so much ground to cover. You could sense how stressed he was and you didn’t wanna bother him but you missed him dearly. And you were getting to the point where your bump was so big that you couldn’t even put on shoes yourself. You needed him. 

One night, you reached a point where your body was just begging for his touch. Not even sexually, though your hormones wouldn’t protest it, but you just needed him to cuddle you. You missed him whispering to your stomach, something that he didn’t even have the time to do anymore. You still hadn’t decided on a name for your daughter and you didn’t wanna stress him out but you missed sitting and talking for hours about all of the things you would do as a little family. The bottom line was that you were pregnant and you needed him. He could take a little break, right? You walked - more like waddled - to his office and knocked on the door. “Come in,” he called. You stepped inside and he looked at you, smiling. There you were, his beautiful girlfriend, stuffed full of his baby wearing one of his shirts. He looked so tired, dark circles hanging under his eyes. “How are my girls doing?” he asked, placing a kiss on your stomach. Even the small display of affection made you grin. You needed to be in his arms more than you’d ever needed anything.

“We miss you,” you pouted.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, beautiful. This mission is really kicking my ass and I’m not even going on it.” You felt so bad for how much stress he was under. He hadn't really relaxed in weeks and you had no idea when the last time he got more than 4 hours of sleep was. 

“Take a break, Buck. Please. I’m all hormonal and my back hurts and I just wanna be held by you.”

He looked at you with a sad expression. “I-I can’t. The team leaves in a couple days and I’m still trying to find out everything that I can about these guys.” 

“Please? Carrying your damn super-soldier daughter is making me feel all kinds of things. I just really need to cuddle for a little. I’ve been trying so hard to not bother you but I really need you to hold me right now, Buck.”

“Y/N,” he breathed, getting agitated.

“10 minutes,” you begged. You hated interrupting him but you had been so patient for so long. You just needed him right now. 

“I said I can’t!” he snapped, voice raised. “What don’t you get about that?” 

Your eyes welled with tears. “Oh,” you whispered quietly. “Well don’t worry about it cause I don’t wanna see you for the rest of the night anyway!” You walked out of the room as quickly as you could, slamming the door behind you. 

The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He didn’t mean to snap at you, he was just so incredibly tired. He was trying his best to finish all of his work so that he could go back to giving you all the love and attention that you wanted 24/7. He missed you so much, too. 

It took everything in him to not chase after you when you walked out the door. He wanted to hold you, to apologize, but he couldn’t. The sooner he finished this, the sooner he could just go back to loving you.

You started crying harder as soon as you left the room. Deep down, you knew he was so exhausted and stressed. You knew he didn’t mean to snap at you and that he probably felt awful about it. But your hormones were so intense that you couldn’t help the crying. You just wanted him. Your whole body was so tired from carrying a growing human inside of you and all you needed was for Bucky to make you feel better. But he couldn’t even do that. 

You went into the nursery, looking around at all the progress you had made. What had started as a blank room with no purpose was now full of life and love. This was the room that you were going to raise your daughter in.

Rubbing over your bump, you sat down on the floor. You felt a kick as you settled, something that had been happening frequently but a feeling that would never stop amazing you. “It’s okay, baby girl,” you said to your stomach, wondering if she could somehow sense your distress. “Mama just misses your Daddy right now,” you sniffled.

You were so tired. Growing a human, while something your body was meant to do, was fucking hard. You hadn’t been sleeping well the past few nights either, pains in your back preventing you from getting comfortable. You let your body relax, eventually curling up on the floor and closing your eyes, surrounded by the decorations that your daughter would hopefully love.

Bucky tried his hardest to go back to work, but it was impossible. He couldn’t believe he had made you cry. “Piece of shit,” he mumbled to himself. 

You were his entire world. You and the little baby in your stomach. His girls were so much more important than any job he could ever have. With a sigh he pushed himself out of his chair, desperate to wrap his arms around you.

“Baby, I am so so sorry,” he said walking into your bedroom. But he was met with an empty bed. He walked back out into the living room, wondering if he had somehow missed you on his way from the office. “Honey?” he called out when he still couldn’t find you. “Y/N?”

When he got no answer, he started to panic. You had left him. Packed your bags and gone somewhere else. You never wanted to see him again and you would never let him meet his daughter. He was a fuck-up and had burned everything to the ground. “Oh god,” he whispered to himself, trying to not fully break down. The exhaustion was getting to him. He couldn’t even think straight.

In a panic, he ran to the nursery, hoping that you hadn’t left it completely bare. He creaked open the door, expecting the worst. The lack of sleep was making him extremely paranoid. That’s when he saw your sleeping frame curled up on the floor. “Oh thank fucking god,” he breathed with relief. He sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and rubbing your stomach. 

“Bucky?” You said after a minute, waking up.

“I’m here, honey. I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I should have just gone to you when you needed me, I just-”

“You’re here now. That’s what matters,” you hummed, just happy to be in his arms.

“I’m done with this,” he affirmed. “I’m telling Stark I’m not working anymore til the baby comes. And for a while after that. He can dock my pay if he wants, we’re fine without it.”

“Buck, you don’t have to do that. I just really missed you.”

“I’m doing it. I miss my girls. More than anything.”

More tears fell from your eyes, but they were laced with happiness and love. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get you into bed, Sugar.” With ease, he lifted you up, not even phased by the weight of the human you were carrying. He set you down and tucked you in before changing into pajamas and sliding in next to you. “I love you so much. I can’t wait for our little girl to get here. I’m so sorry again. God, I just can’t express how much I love you.”

“I love you, too.” As you said the words, the baby kicked again, happy to have her parents reconciled. 

Bucky bent down and peppered kisses all over your stomach. “Come soon, Princess. We can’t wait to meet you.”

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

think whatever you want but i will forever believe one of katsuki’s love languages is physical touch. i truly believe he’s SO clingy but he tries to keep it lowkey so he doesn’t look like hes being clingy cuz he’s in denial about how clingy he’s being.💀💀

like at the beginning of the relationship, when he gets a little used to showing affection, it’s little things. like standing really close to you or always saving a spot right next to him for you and when you’re sitting next to each other his leg is pressed against yours or he has his arm draped behind you on the couch.

as soon as he gets more comfortable ts dials up to 100😭😭. he has his arms wrapped around you constantly and he’s always just touching something. he’s holding your hand or pinching your nose to scold you, squishing your cheeks in his hands when he gets a sudden burst of cute aggression and sneaking up behind you to place his head on your shoulder when you’re doing something, squeezing your hips occasionally. always just in your space.

katsuki absolutely loves skinship so he’s big on cuddling. when you’re alone together you will never be able to get him off you LMAO good luck trying to go to the bathroom during cuddle time cuz he will definitely just flat out say no💀. he’s a full on clinger and he doesn’t do shit halfway so when he’s cuddling he has no intention on getting up for a while.

i also believe with my heart n’ SOUL katsuki loves kissing. sorry not sorry. he just can’t get enough once he gets one he needs to have at least three more. he appreciates kisses whenever but i feel he likes taking his time, kissing you nice n’ sweet to try to convey how much he cares about you, how much he loves you.

katsuki loves touching you but he also loves you touching him. so convinced as soon as your hands are in him he turns to goo😭😭. he likes when you play with his hair and when you trace his features he swears he could fall asleep right wherever he’s standing. he loves feeling you against him when you hug him and he melts when you kiss him. he loves it when you massage him whenever he feels sore and he always gets all embarrassed when you massage his hands cuz he thinks they’re way too sweaty and they get even sweatier when he sees you so focused on his hands—on him. though he gets all pouty about you touching him cus he’s embarrassed. his cheeks are all red and he tries his best to glare at you as intimidatingly as possible when you poke n’ squeeze at them for being so cute.

[gay-dorito-dust]

haii! :33

can i request boothill and argenti (seperately) with a shy gn!reader who gets flustered easily? whether it would be through words, physical touch or stuff like that

thank youu!! ^_^

Jing yuan:

Smug bastard.

Acts like he wasn’t the reason you were flustered to the high heavens from brushing his hand across your waist.

‘Are you alright my dear?’ He’d say, faking innocence as he intentionally held your face in his hands, softly caressing your cheeks as he felt them gradually grow warmer with every stroke of his thumbs. ‘You’re feeling rather warm here, should I get you to a doctor?’ He adds with a knowing smile.

‘N-no. I’m fine.’ You’d say, unable to form actual thoughts as your mind was heavily focused on a plethora of things, from the way that his hands held your face as though it were porcelain, to the way he caresses your skin felt like kisses in their own right.

The acclaimed dozing general raised an eyebrow as his smile only grew more mischievous. ‘Are you sure? You’re really heating up my dear, I wouldn’t want you to faint on me now,’ he then leaned in close, chuckling upon hearing you gasp a the close proximity, whispering. ‘Unless that’s your intention.’

Jing Yuan thoroughly enjoyed being the reason you were flustered and found your reactions addictive, so much that he would start doing things where he got to see that reaction as much as possible.

Touching your hand

Brushing shoulders

Sitting really close to you/ ‘accidentally’ falling asleep on you, etc.

However if you were to ever express that you wanted him to stop, he will as he understands that you might not want to be made to fluster all the time. He’s not a dickhead and respects you greatly for giving him the ability to start living life again.

Argenti:

This man speaks from the bottom of his heart, there’s not a single lie to be found in his words, and it was due to that undeniable truthfulness that left you more flustered then not.

‘I only speak the truth my beloved rose.’ He says softly as he held your hands in his own all the while maintaining eye contact, which didn’t help you in any way shape or form as you felt your face practically burst into flames and your heart going at a mile an hour the longer you stay in close proximity to him.

He smelt of roses and chivalry, which was odd as you didn’t think chivalry could have a smell, but with Arenti anything was seemingly possible.

‘You are the beauty that I’ve been seeking and now that I have you, I have no doubt that I will love you for eternity should it be allowed of me.’

Boom, you’re dead and on the floor as you stare up at the ceiling as Argenti was quick to move to kneel at your side, face full of concern as his face hovers over you all the while his hair acted as ruby red curtains, forcing you to solely focus on his extremely pretty face. He looked like an angel in that moment and you somehow still found it in you to get even more flustered upon gazing at his face.

He’s genuinely concerned about you whenever you got flustered, his heart and soul were just so pure that he wasn’t really clicking onto the fact that he was the reason you were constantly flustered.

‘My dear flower, what’s wrong? Have I hurt you somehow? Should I seek medical attention?’ - him.

‘No, I’m okay. Just give me a few minutes…or an hour.’ -you, flustered to the high heavens and embarrassment for making him worry.

Boothill:

Smug bastard 2.0

The moment you shown him how easily flustered you could get, it’s over for you as you’ve given Boothill ammunition to keep finding new ways to flustered you on the daily.

Your reactions were his drug and he’d gladly overdoes on them if he could but that might be going a bit too far, however he didn’t care because you being flustered from almost anything he did had become everything to him.

So he would nuzzle his cheek to yours.

Playfully nibbles on your earlobe, shoulder, neck, arms, lips and takes enjoyment in your squeals and attempts to get away from him, only to be pulled back in.

Kissing your lips constantly, even more so in public.

The teasing is never ending with Boothill.

He’s relentless, unyielding and extremely brutal in his teasings that you may as well be permanently flustered. However if you were to shyly give this gremlin a taste of his own medicine by boldly kissing his cheek, he’s suddenly silent and a little fluttered.

He just loves smothering you in love and will continue to do so as nothing else mattered to him in that moment more than you and the effects he had over you.

[whiskeyskin]

Goddesses and Mortals

Premise: After the events of Love and Longing, Gale finds out that his feelings are reciprocated.. and that's not all.. 😳🍑🫵

Accidental sequel to a previous fic cause I can't get this lonely Wizard out of my head without the promise of a potentially happy ending 🥹 in more ways than one 😏🍆

Gale x gn!tav • 18+ • E/M rating • MDNI

Gale POV, reader referred to as 'you', no specific mention of gentials or gender, porn with plot?, Mystra can fuck right off, fantasies becoming reality, longing, love, tenderness, mutual masturbation, anal fingering (M receiving), unabashed consent, mild cum swapping, minor sub/dom energy, marking if you squint

5.3k words

Special thanks to @senualothbrok for nestling this tadpole in my brain for Gale to get the real deal one day.. 💜

And at it again @spellbooking with another beautiful gif of our Rizzard ☺️ Thank you! 💜

•°•°•

Gale was close, very close.

He had to hurry, the party would all be rising from camp soon. Though there was no sunlight in this desolate place, a full rest was almost upon him.

Safely secluded in the abandoned house on the far reaches of camp; sweat damp on his brow, his hand slick with salvia, Gale feverishly pumped his length in quick bursts.

Your illusion image looked up at him through lidded eyes licking your bottom lip hungrily and growling a hedonistic moan.

"Gale.." you whimpered, the voice distorted.

"Yes, love.. I'm going to come for you.. only for you.. come with me." He bit out, on the precipice of orgasm.

Suddenly, a faint lilting of rosewater assailed his nose and stopped him dead.

A cold dread filled his body, incapacitating his lungs.

Mystra.

It couldn't be.

Surely not.

Not here.

Not now.

Why right now for hell's sake?

He'd not felt her presence since she'd tried to wedge herself between you both when you'd shared a moment of magic in camp.

Despite their separation, she still checked in on her disgraced former chosen and lover at the most inopportune moments.

Fumbling, he quickly tucked himself away in his waistband and spun on his heel.

Nothing.. but the scent remained.

Had she finally gotten sick of his abusing himself constantly to the fictitious likeness of you, using her magical essence to do so?

Had she been sensing him masturbating at least twice a day since her intervention charm through Elminster?

Was she making herself known to quell his incessant self-gratification, or to participate in it?

Even a tenday ago, that would have been a comforting thought. One he would have relished in, taken solace and pride in.. but this felt wrong.

His sweet nothings he had whispered in the dead of night to "you" weren't for Mystra's perverse enjoyment, or sick amusement, weren't for her for to cast judgement on.

"I don't know why you're here," he called brazenly, "but I assure you, this is nothing that concerns you any longer. Now, if you'd be so kind, leave me in peace." He requested, firmly.

Silence.

He wasn't convinced.

"And I don't appreciate the timing of you little assertion here. Now that I'm finally on a path of some kind of healing, you make yourself known?" He snapped, pointing a finger at nothing.

"You have no reason to be here. You have already spoken your will and want with my life and until such a time that that moment arrives, I will do what I want, with whomever I want. Be they real, or fantasy is no concern of yours. Now, leave." He frowned and gestured finally.

The warmth in the air he didn't realise had been present disparated. He was left cold.

Just like always with her.

"Gale?" Called your voice, your vision now by the doorway.

He looked up to see you leaning on the doorframe, slightly bleary.

"Sorry, my love. I got distracted. Less said about that, the better. Now," he beckoned a crooked finger towards himself, "let's get back to where we were before everyone wakes up."

You frowned and looked him up and down, "Did you just call me, 'my love'?" You asked.

For the second time that early morning, Gale's blood ran cold.

"And what exactly were we doing before?" You irked a brow, looking amused.

Gale struggled for words as the blood that had been swiftly journeying to the south was urgently redirected north.

"I-uh-I did? Must've been a mistake. What are you doing up so early?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

You squinted, "Who were you talking to?"

"No one." Gale answered, feigning innocence.

"Wow, that was convincing." You teased with mockingly wide eyes. You narrowed your eyes at him and he felt a gentle brush against his mind. You were seeking permission. He allowed it.

"Mystra?" You asked with a tense lilt. Gale nodded.

"Thought so, I heard you calling that you were trying to move on and someone was suddenly trying to get your attention again. Is everything alright?" You asked, your tone worried and sincere.

Gale's heart bloomed.

"Yes, since her missive from Elminster, she's reached out. I don't have time for it."

"That's a massive step for you, Gale. You said something about moving on, is that true?"

"Somewhat." He answered in a half truth.

You smiled, "Is she still here?" There was a pause, Gale could see the cogs turning, "Did you want to make her jealous? Is that why you called me 'my love'?"

Gale blinked twice.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe you snuck up here to be with me. Maybe I'm the one you're moving on with."

Again, Gale blinked twice.

How unintentionally right you were.

He swallowed.

"Would that be something you're interested in helping me with?"

"To fuck with the gods? Anything." You purred the last word down the connection at him and it made the hairs on his neck raise like you'd whispered it directly against his skin.

"Then by all means, take the lead."

You irked a seductive brow and turned down your head to gaze through lidded eyes.

He swallowed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. You're just so gods damned handsome. I'm glad we could sneak away again." You walked towards him confidently, a slight prowl in your gait.

Gale's blood supply had ignored previous instruction and fully marched back south. The sight of you - truly you - saying these things to him had him dizzy from the rush of blood.

"Not to worry, I quite enjoying being gawped at."

"Well, it's certainly no hardship." You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a sensual hug, while he desperately tried to keep his erection from your notice.

"Mm, we have to be quick. We don't have much time until the others wake up." You crooned, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Did the minor illusion keep you warm enough while I was gone?"

And for the third time that morning, Gale's body shot full of ice.

His blood entirely confused, threw it's hands up in defeat for direction.

You knew?

How could you know?

He was careful.. wasn't he?

Your hands never stopped roaming; his arms, his shoulders, his neck.. his hair.. oh gods, up into his hair.

Gale's breath hitched and shuddered.

Oh gods, you felt like heaven. Even if he felt like he was in hell.

"I know you like me to watch you but I've been so neglectful lately with everything that's been going on. Can you forgive me?" You pulled back from him, your face pulled into a beautifully twisted smile, sin pulled at the edges.

"I th-think you can make it up to me." He gasped.

Your eyebrows flexed in amusement up your forehead, "Do you want me to watch you right now? With everyone waiting in camp, drinking tea and preparing breakfast?"

You smoothed your hands from his shoulders to the top of his chest, "Do you like the anticipation of being caught, Gale? The rush of being found?"

Oh gods, you were so close. You smelled so good, like lemongrass and lavender.. and underneath the balms, your musk, your scent. You.

"I would do anything, as long as it was with you, my love." He breathed, unable to contain the emotion in his voice.

Your eyes unfocused for a brief moment, then came back, blinking as though seeing through an unfogged mirror.

A soft gasp caught in the back of your throat; that noise could state him for a thousand nights.

Then you stepped away.

You averted your gaze, and backed away from his arms completely. You shut your eyes tightly.

"Gale, I-"

You opened them, a wealth of feelings swirling but he couldn't decipher any of them.

"I need to get back to camp. We need to get to Moonrise Towers today, with Isobel's blessing we can cross the Shadows. We need to be ready." You nodded curtly and disappeared.

Gale stared after you, the cold air of the Shadowlands around him a cruel but poetic pathetic fallacy.

He groaned and closed his eyes against balled fists, as he pressed them against his eyes. Tears brimmed behind them, hot frustrated tears.

"Gods fucking dammit."

***

Gale had attempted to maintain distance today, which had been difficult considering you'd partied up together with Karlach and Shadowheart.

Karlach had tried to question his glum mood, but he'd simply recused it as nerves of their close proximity to the potential Heart of the Absolute.

"Ah, Gale. If there's anyone who knows how shit it is to have a ticking time bomb in their chest, it's me. Come and speak to me sometime mate, yeah? We can talk about it."

"Karlach, you're truly a soul that steels my own. I may just take you up on that."

A firm nod and a beaming smile from Karlach ended the conversation as they entered this Balthazar's chamber, after which none of them really had the stomach for food that night.

Wyll had stepped up and made a hearty bowl of vegetable and meat stew. It was nothing on his own cooking, of course but it was a valiant attempt.

Needed a little more pepper.

You sat nursing your bowl, generally making conversation around the fire. Halsin had joined you back from Last Light with no new news of the catatonic lost soul, apart from that he kept singing. A lute of significance to him had been added to your list of items to retrieve; an ever growing list.

Gale swallowed a mouthful and risked a glance towards you, your eyes met for a brief moment before you looked away, uncomfortable. His heart sank.

He'd truly ruined any chance of friendship after his desperate behaviour this morning. You'd barely spoken two words together all day, and now you wouldn't look him in the eye.

He excused himself for an early night and retreated to his tent. He lit his candles and pulled out one of the many books he'd picked up along today's excursions around Moonrise, hoping that one of them would point them towards the heart.

***

The noise around the campfire grew weary as he poured over his readings. Various 'goodnights' alerted him to the potentially late hour.

Gale sighed and rubbed his eyes, he conjured a bookmark, closed it and drained his glass of wine.

Now that he'd been pulled from his focus, he realised how tired he was. Physically drained from a gruelling day of emotional turbulence.

Rosewater gently lilted under his nose, he snorted it back out.

"Oh for the love of-! Bugger off!" He spat through a whisper.

"I'm sorry." Came your voice from behind him.

He spun around on his knees to see you hastily trying to leave his tent.

"No!" Called a little too loudly, reaching out across the space, "Not you. I didn't mean you."

You stopped, looking back at him for the first time since the morning. The soft glow of the candles illuminating your wonderful face, his heart squeezed uncomfortably.

"I assume she's back again, then?" You asked through terse lips, glancing around the low lit interior of his tent.

"Where rosewater is, Mystra's sure to follow. What can I do for you?" Gale asked, shaking off the lingering of his former lover.

"I-," you started, wringing your hands, "I wanted to apologise for this morning."

Gale blinked.

You wanted to apologise?

"What for?" He questioned his tone incredulous.

"For it all. I embarrassed you, I embarrassed myself.. I acted poorly. I thought it would be a good way to show that I knew what you'd been doing-with the minor illusions." Gale's eyes widened. He'd been attempting to solve that one today.

"H-How did you find out?"

"I'd cast Detect Thoughts on Jaheria when we met her at the Inn, and it lasts all day. I heard you when I was laying down to rest. All the things you wanted to do." You swallowed thickly, and a jolt of excitement shot it's way through his cock to his brain.

That was two nights ago.

He'd fantasized about gourging on your sex as you mounted his face, fucking yourself with his mouth as you leaned back with one hand to stroke him. He'd made a mess of his walls, as well as himself.

"You've got a pretty interesting imagination, Gale. Especially since we seem to be ethereal galaxy people in your head." You smiled, folding your arms across yourself, "The one from last night was pretty hot too." You bit your bottom lip to contain more, and swallowed.

He remembered that vividly.

He'd fantasised about spooning you, fucking into you and playing with you from behind. The mirror image had gasped and moaned for him, breathed his name over and over again, as he came to the thought of pleasing you enough to milk his cum inside your clenching walls.

"I thought it was just sex, that maybe we could get rid of some nervous energy together but then this morning.. the way you-you looked at me.." you trailed off, Gale's heart hammered against his chest.

You rest your splayed hands across your heart, "I was foolish. You're not the kind to just sleep around. To have casual sex and not think of it again."

"Like Astarion?" He quipped before vetting the venomous comment.

You tightened your lip, "Kind of." You answered, with a tone that felt loaded with more secretive information but he didn't want to pry.

Well, he did.

But not right now.

"I could be." He postured, looking up at you.

You let out a short laugh, "That face this morning is not the face of someone who can just have sex and not want more."

He hardened his face, "It could be.. if you wanted to be.." Gale irked a brow, feigning a casual air.

"Oh, yeah?" You goaded, leaning on one hip and folding your arms again.

"Absolutely. We could have sex right now and I wouldn't bat an eyelid." He lied, pushing his lips down into a grimace, while his cheeks flushed and his heart pounded against his sternum.

"Really?" You questioned, looking dubious.

"Unquestionably." Gale punctuated with a flick of his fingers, relaxing into his position on the floor, widening his knees to sit back on his heels in an attempt at nonchalance.

"So, you fantasising about kissing my neck, my chest, stomach and hips and calling me "my love" means nothing." You stated, using air quotations.

"Certainly not. Mere sweet talk." Gale shook his head, shrugging his shoulders, while sweat gathered on his forehead.

You kicked off your hip and confidently strolled towards the short distance to him. His mouth instantly dried to dangerous levels of dehydration, as he tried to keep composure.

"And imagining your cock in my mouth, telling me how much you adore me, that isn't telling at all?" You sneered a lip through a smirk and shrugged one shoulder.

"Demonstrably." He tried to remain calm but every cell in his body was panicking, "Do you see me reacting?" He willed himself through words not to show a care.

Your tongue broke through your smirk to rub against your top teeth and his felt it between his legs, he jerked unconsciously.

"You're glowing." You drawled, dipping your eyes to his chest, "Do you even realise the orb lights up when you're horny?"

Gale's painfully stony face dropped as he quickly darted his vision to his chest.

You were indeed correct.

Through his camp clothes, a faint purple hue eminated through the fabric. Gale shot his had to cover his blatant display of arousal. He gave a sharp exhale through his nose and closed his eyes in utter embarrassment.

"This tent has been a purple colour show since Crèche Y'llek." You teased, the sound of your voice curved around a grin.

Gale's chest hollowed.

Gods dammit.

Mystra dammit.

"Oh and also this.." Suddenly he felt something graze along the length of his concealed erection - what he thought was a his concealed erection.

He let out a whining gasp, his hand slapping against worn leather, and he opened his eyes.

You'd rubbed the top of your boot under and against him in his kneeled position, gliding his sensitive member with the leather of your shoe. You continued the rhythm, the gentle friction was delicious, he gasped open mouthed.

Oh gods, it was real.

You were real.

It wasn't a cruel trick, or a fantasy.

It was you.

Gale reached up to grasp the crook of your knee, you held your gaze steadfast against his own. He began to pull off your boot, your eyes never faultered from his as it was flung to the back of the tent.

Your foot resting on his thigh, his hand still holding the meat of your strong calf.

You took his prickly chin within your fingers, eyes unsure.

"If this going to happen, it's just sex. Nothing more." You stated, in a low tone.

Gale nodded, trembling from anticipation.

"I mean it. If you're on a path to self-destruction in the name of a Goddess, I'm not wasting my time with feelings." Your voice caught and anger flashed across your features but tears hinted in your eyes.

You slid your foot off his thigh and slowly descended to crouch in front of him, taking his face fully in your hands. Their warmth slid into the deepest recesses of his lonely soul.

"I care about you, Gale. You're worth far more than what she's asked you to do. Far more."

He poured over your face, so close to him. Emotions that he had denied himself bubbling to the surface; the longing, the loneliness.. the fear.

You ran a thumb to dry a tear he hadn't realise had fallen.

"Say something." You whispered, your gaze flitting between his eyes and his lips.

Oh gods.

This was to truly happen?

He'd kiss your beautiful, soft lips?

His breathing was unsteady, the anticipation coiled dangerously around every facet of his musculature.

Gale opened his mouth to speak, to utter sweet poetry regaling your beauty, your passion, your wit and wisdom but the words would not form, they were stunted on his paralysed tongue.

You were so close.

He could feel the heat from your body, he could see the wisps of your hair moving with his unsteady breath.

You came closer and pressed your lips between his brows, electric tingling his skin in your wake. His eyes lolled shut as he finally brought his hands to hold you to him, press you to him, to feel you finally.

He slid his hands below the seam of your shirt, to feel your smooth and scarred skin, fire grazing his fingertips at the contact.

"I-.. I care for you deeply. I cannot deny this." He began breathlesly, your forehead's connected, your bodies melting together. You sank further into the embrace, widening your legs to fully welcome him between your thighs.

The image of that first night he touched himself to thoughts of you, bloomed across his mind and he bit his lip.

"Neither can I." You agreed, the sound of your voice low and raspy, "It scares me, Gale. It scares the shit into me," you leaned back, holding on to the back of his neck, slowly leading you both down to the carpeted rugs below his bedroll, "Show me. Show me I'm not wrong to feel this way. Show me I'm not alone in this."

Gale shook in head, almost trance-like, "You're not alone-not alone.. I'm with you." He followed you down, desperate not to lose a second's touch with you.

"And I'm with you, I'm not letting you go." You spoke the words against his mouth, it made his mind numb.

"No, never. Never leave me." He mumbled, as you both situated yourselves on the floor. Words bubbled and frothed out of his mouth before he could stop them, "I've been so utterly alone for so long, cut off from everyone I knew and cared for.. and I'm terrified, I'm filled with dread each day. I don't want to die-I want to stay.. stay here." He mewled through the overwhelming emotion in his throat. You increased the intensity of your touch against your brows.

"Shh, none of that matters now. It doesn't exist. For now.. it's just us.. you and me.." you whispered against his skin, he felt it shiver down every vertebrae.

"You and me." He repeated, comforted by the softness in your voice.

Suddenly, your hand grasped his naked cock. He yelped in pleasure, but was hushed by the passionate meeting of your mouth. You captured his cries, claiming them as your own.

His fingers bunched your shirt, his knuckles white, as your tongue swept in to merge with his.

Oh gods.

You tasted like wine, and oranges, and sex.

He'd imagined your taste, your scent.. but this.. the full force of you was so much more intense that he could have expected.

You fingered his leaking slit and he jerked at the sensation, causing you both to make involuntary, open-mouthed moans.

You increased in fervour at his reaction, a desperate whine eeking from his body.

It was too much but not enough. He wanted more, more of you, more of this. He wanted the world to fall away and to be consumed by only you.

Like you said; "Just you and me."

Even though it would be grammatically correct to say 'You and I'.

Your hand wrapped around the length of him, pumping the head of his penis in short, lanquid bursts.. and suddenly the correctness on ones grammar seemed worlds away.

Gale shuddered and knelt over your body, settling himself between your gorgeous thighs, pressing down against your sex, enough to make you gasp.

You shared a wicked grin together before he cradled you to him, desperately kissing and mating your tongues. His hips unconsciously twitching against the friction of your hand.

"Gods, Gale. I want you." You keened against his lips, puffs of air escaping aggressively from your lungs, as his hips drove against you.

"Yesyesyesyesyes.." he chorused, messily thrusting against your palm, "Want this. Want you. For a long while.. even before.."

"Did you fantasize about all the positions we could fuck in?"

A sharp feeling settled low in his gut and he squeezed his eyes shut to close out a threatening, pre-emptive climax.

"Yes, wanted you.. badly." He added, barely able to speak.

"I know, I saw. Sweating and willing underneath you?"

"Yess.." he hissed.

"Slipping a finger inside me, then another, preparing me to take you?"

Another deliciously painful pang shuddered inside him.

"Stretching my tight hole for you, till I'm begging you to fuck me hard and unrelenting?" You growled against his lips.

Gale tensed his jaw to mute a groan from his chest, as your words gripped the back of his head.

Oh dear fucking gods.

You were very, very good at this.

"I especially liked where I got to play with you. Those moans at the back of your throat when you'd think of me on top, or taking charge.. I had trouble concentrating yesterday because I couldn't stop replaying those sounds."

He heard you whisper an incantation, that his lust-filled brain slowly realised was Mage hand, the moment before he felt the cold sensation working his undergarments completely free, pushing them down passed his knees.

"There was one particular part you seemed to be interested in exploring together." You purred against his temple, as you twisted your grip around his plump, weeping member.

The Mage hand palmed at the cleft of his ass and lazily dragged it's fingers up his perennium, sliding towards his..

He gasped, throwing his head back and loosening his tight hips to tilt them upwards in wanton display.

"Oh gods." Gale whimpered, biting down on his lip hard, "Mm-Mhm." He panted in abandon.

He'd experimented with himself in this matter in his youth and in his newfound sexual freedom after his year of self imposed celibacy but never with another.

The magical fingers languidly drawled across his sensitive skin. He bucked and jerked against the feeling of you pleasuring him, needing more of both.

You groaned and rutted your hips against him.

"You look so beautiful like this, I can see you in the mirror behind you. You look spectacular, spreading yourself for me." You crooned, praising him and licking your bottom lip. You looked beyond him to what he assumed was his mirror.

Oh gods.

You were going to watch him like this.

Like he'd imagined.

Exposed.

Hedonistic.

Depraved.

The thought waved over his brain and made him dizzy, the desire swelled low in his belly.

"You're so willing and receptive, Gale. Do you want me to slide these fingers inside you? To pleasure you completely until you can't comprehend your own name?" You asked salaciously, assuring consent before blindly continuing. He raised his hips higher for better access as wordless agreement.

The mage hand ran a soaked finger across his puckering hole but ventured no further without express permission.

His whole body trembled, desire coarsing through his veins, soaking into every orifice.

"Yes.. yes.. fuck. I need it. Please.. please.." he wailed through staggered breath.

"Look at me." You instructed softly, halting your motions of abject pleasure.

With great difficulty, Gale did as he was told. He about exploded with joy with the sight of you.

He'd imagined you, summoned your likeness but nothing could ever compare to this.

The aura of his orb bathed you in a magical amethyst glow; the adoration shining in your eyes, the seductive curve of your lip, the sweat flattening your hair to your temples.

"So handsome.. so beautiful. Look at you, look at how you light up for me.." you smiled, guilding him with compliments as you raise a hand to touch the angry purple mark on his chest, now emblazoned with Mystra's star. "This does not define you. You are not the orb. You are not Mystra's chosen. You are Gale and you chose your own path. You are, and will always be, enough.. just as you are.."

Soft tears fell from his eyes from the intensity of his emotional response to your words and the physical stimuli of the hand gently testing his entrance.

You gently kissed the apples of his wet cheeks, then looked up at him with a darkened expression.

"Arch your back for me, sweetheart."

Gale instantly buried his face against your neck, lifting his exposed self for you.

"Good.." you cooed, beginning a slow pace to pump his cock again.

"Ohh, gods." His whined against your skin, his limit already close.

"Relax.." you whispered, kissing his temple, "Relax for me, darling. Take a deep breath, and let it out. Keep breathing."

Gale did as he was told. With each expell of air he loosened the muscles surrounding his asshole. The need growing to dizzying heights.

Pressure pushed against his rim as the finger glided halfway, he gasped and clenched unconsciously.

"Breathe, Gale." You soothed, pressing soft kisses to his face, "You're handling this so well."

Further and further you pushed inside him, delicious sensation flooding his body. His body tense and limp simultaneously, as the pleasure radiated through him from his pulsating walls.

"Fuck." He barely managed.

He kissed your neck and sucked down on the bite marks left by Astarion. He would make his own mark on you. One that everyone would see.

You gasped, your breath catching as you rolled your hips against him, teeth lightly nipping at his ear lobe.

Gale felt the friction of your other hand reaching down between you to stimulate your own release. His urge re-doubled in it's efforts to push him higher, intoxicated by your arousal.

He could feel your desperate movements between you, lightly grazing his testicles with the back of your hand.

You surprised him by gently pinching the head of him and thumbing the slit before initiating an unyielding, rapid rhythm wrapped around his cock. Synchronizing with curling the Mage hand towards his stomach, rubbing over the knot of his prostate.

A ragged, strained noise escaped from his throat as the sensations joined, assailing him from both sides.

He pushed back against the Mage hand, taking it's digit to the hilt.

"Oh yes, that's it. Enjoy it. It's for you.. all for you." You chorused his words to you, the words he used every night to pray to your false altar.

But now he had you, truly had you.. and you were spectacular.. you could not be formed into words.. you transcendend this mortal plane.. you were.. more than Godly.. you were-

A second finger penetrated him without refute and stretched his hole, doubling the pleasure against his sweet spot inside his ass, and he cried out in sheer bliss. Your hand wrapped around his cock, pumping in jubilant rhythm combined with the thrusting of the spell deep inside him.

The precipice of orgasm gripped him like a vice and choked him of all other need, apart from that to cum.

In that moment of blessed eternity, the world was narrowed down to nothing more than you and him. A vaccum in existence bathed in magical light.

Rapture split through every atom of his existence, building and climbing in a torrent of unstable energy.

"Yes, Gale-yes-come. Come with me."

His mouth open, panting like a rabid dog, he lost himself entirely.

He roared and strained and gasped, as he shot thick ropes all over your torso. His asshole squeezed and clenched tightly on the digits deliciously stuffed inside him working his orgasm longer. Your skilled hand milking every last drop from him.

He gulped for breath as you cried out underneath him, jerking against your own hand, breathless and exhilarated.

He watched you come undone underneath him, eyes screwed, mouth gaping, then biting down to quieten your moans.

Dear gods, you looked exquisite.

He reached a hand between you both to feel the after effects of your rhapsody, you twitched and laughed through a smile, as he stroked your sensitive sex in the wake of orgasm, riding you longer like you were to him.

"Stopstopstop-too much." You barely gasped against his sweat laden forehead.

There you lay, for what seemed like an easy age, together.

Aftershocks struck you both as you lay together in your joined euphoria.

The Mage hand had disappeared and left him feeling pleasantly sore from the hectic pace.

Gale pushed himself up onto his forearm, extracating his hand from between you. It was covered in your release, it glistened on his hand.

It was one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen. Something he hadn't fantasied.

He glanced back to you, you also held up your hand drenched in him.

You opened your mouth, clearing indicating to feast on yourself from his fingers. His tender cock twitched with desire.

He reciprocated his mouth and you swept your digits in his mouth. He tasted himself, licking his semen clean, as you suckled your own essence from his fingers, then pulled him in for a deep kiss.

Gale moaned at the melding of you both on mating tongues. It was pure sex and exhilaration. The desire and need. The fullfilment and warmth.

The kiss broke and you smiled at him, letting out a large breath.

"That was.." He started.

"Incredible." You finished.

"That's one of many words." He mused, laughing breathlessly.

Gale pushed himself up higher, "Oh, gods." He snorted, looking down at the scene of debauchery before him and kneeled onto his heels.

You and he were both covered in cum. It was obscene how licentiously delicious you looked painted with each other.

He remembered the first time he'd cum to your image, how hollow and alone he'd felt.

But not this time.

This time he felt complete.

Like a piece of him had hurried it's way back to him after so long apart.

"Well, that's one way to let off some steam." He chuckled darkly.

"I think it's hot." You smirked, biting down on your lower lip.

Gale swallowed with difficulty, "Careful you, that's dangerous."

Gale heaved out a breath and came to grips with what had just transpired between you both. How little his imagination had been able to conceive of you. What paltry figments had been the stars of his fantasies.

He glanced down upon you; hair mussed, sweat drying on your skin, clothes rumpled and he couldn't have loved you more.

"What?" You asked in a quiet voice.

Gale shook his head, "Nothing." He feigned.

He waved his hand with a simple somantic and the evidence was gone.

"Then come down here, I'm getting cold." You stroked your hands up his arms and enveloped him into an embrace that warmed all the lost parts of his soul.

"I meant it, Gale. I won't let you destory yourself for this. We'll find another way." You nestled yourself deeper into the hug.

Gale smiled contentedly from ear to ear, "I know we will.. because now I have something to live for."

•°•°•

Part 1

Psst.. Ive got a Masterlist too 👀

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Arranged marriage?

Royal au

Pairing: princess (to be queen) Natasha X autistic queen reader.

Warnings: Natasha being an asshole. (She gets better... Just not yet.)

I got this idea from a Pinterest post from Tumblr. Credits go to whoever that person is. If anyone can find the person who made the original idea please let me know so I can give proper credit.

Natasha was in a marriage she didn't want. Well not yet. The married part. Natasha definitely did not want the marriage at all. But technically she was only engaged. And Natasha hated the fact that her parents refused to let her rule unless she was married. But it was ok. Because she had a plan. Simple and easy. Wait a year or so after the wedding. Then kill queen y/n and live as a widowed queen on her own. Then she would rule alone and get two kingdoms to run. Hers and y/n's. Natasha thought it full proof.

Y/n pov:

I hate this. The meetings and arrangements for a wedding I honestly don't want. I didn't even want to be queen. I have dragons to study and no time to run a large and not to mention busy kingdom. I'm honestly hoping this new wife of mine can just run it for me while I travel to the scorching geysers that dragons tend to nest at. Though in all honesty my supposed to be wife scares me. She's so intimidating and scary. Constantly scowling at me as if I wanted this. I don't. Well I kinda do. Simply so I don't have to run this place. But still! Princess Romanoff could at least be a bit nicer...

It's another beautiful morning and I'm meant to be meeting up with princess Romanoff. And instead of being down in the main hall I'm in the library amongst several old books about striped winged dragons. I know where I'm meant to be but I don't want to have to deal with my scary soon to be wife. So instead I'm hoping that Natasha just thinks I forgot and goes back to her own kingdom.

A crash tells me I'm not going to get my wish. I glance above a pile of books only to see the cursing form of princess Natasha romanoff. I duck back behind my books again and hope against logic that she didn't notice me. Luck is not on my side. I wince as another crash echoes through the library. These are important and ancient books of history. History no one but me reads but still history! And then Natasha's head pops up over the shorter stack of books. Those are about the green clawed wyvern. I look up and see Natasha scowling at me.

"hi princess."

I try and greet her but Natasha's scowl only deepens. She's pissed. At me. Of course she is. I sigh and step out of my mountain of books. Walking around to greet the princess. I smile awkwardly. Natasha doesn't.

"you didn't show up in the great hall. Now I had to come and find you. Do you realise how messy this room is? You should hire a cleaner."

Natasha berated me for the millionth time. Truth be told I should get a cleaner in here but it's the only library study that holds the draconic records. So only I ever frequent the room and I'm not bothered by the dust. So I never got a cleaner. I won't bother explaining that to Natasha. I sigh and nod along to Natasha as she keeps ranting. I've learned that agreeing with her is easier than arguing.

"my apologies princess I forgot the meeting was today."

I try and remain polite as Natasha bursts into another rant about my incompetence. That seems to be her favourite thing to rant about nowadays. Until I notice the book I had been searching for earlier. The one about white bellied fire drakes and their subspecies. I know I should be focused on Natasha but I'm afraid if I look away I won't be able to find it again. I keep my unblinking gaze on the book. My mind blocking out Natasha's rant. Only I don't have the focus to feel guilty about not listening. I finally give in and push past Natasha to grab the book. My smile is wide as I pull it out and examine it. In perfect condition too!

Natasha gapes offended at me as I brush past her to get my book. But unfortunately for her ego I have bigger issues to worry about. I grab the books and brush the dust that had been collecting in it before marching over to my already crowded desk and slipping the ancient text onto it and flipping it open. My eyes light up as I see the familiar images of the white bellied fire drakes. When I finally look up Natasha is staring at me with probably more rage than any sort of fire wyrm that I've ever studied. I purse my lips and an apologetic look comes to my face. At least I hope it looks apologetic.

"ah right... My apologies princess.."

I try and smile but Natasha bursts into another rageful rant about disrespect and my idiotic behaviour and if we are meant to be married and yadayadayada I don't actually care currently I have my book. I sigh and prop my head up against my palm as I half pay attention to anything Natasha is screaming before I look down at my book and whoopsies I'm now paying attention to white bellied fire drakes.

By the time Natasha finishes her second rant I forgot she was even there as I am occupied with reading about ice bellied fire drakes, the close cousin to white bellied fire drakes. I recall a lot of the information in the book but it's nice to get a refresher. I don't remember Natasha is still there until she hits me on the head with a scroll. I look up confused until I realised what scroll she hit me with. The one about steelscaled amphipteres and I gently grab it from Natasha and sit it down gently.

"princess be careful these scrolls are incredibly old and could be damaged easily!"

I exclaim. I don't know what I'd do if any of these books and scrolls got damaged. Have a mental break down and lock myself up for a few weeks probably. It's not until Natasha responds that I look up.

"so what! It's just a bunch of mumbo jumbo anyway who cares."

I freeze and my eyes grow cold. How dare she. These texts are ancient words of history not a bunch of mumbo jumbo and the fact Natasha dare say so makes me angry. I stand up and walk to stand in front of Natasha.

"I care. And if you don't then get out of my library before I call my guards to come and escort you out so I don't have to deal with another one of your useless rants that nobody likes you insufferable pathetic human being."

I snarl. I know this is going to enrage the princess but she has no authority here and I used my serious tone. Meaning no arguments or else. This is my kingdom and I won't let Natasha act otherwise. And by her scowling and burning eyes she knows it too. And before I can say another word princess Natasha romanoff stalks out the room without another word. I sigh and sit down behind my desk. This is gonna be a long marriage.

A/n: this was originally meant to be a one shot but it's turned into a series. Yay! And before anyone comes for me about writing autism wrong I am autistic and this is how I would react in a situation like this.