#can i just say how while capping this i realised

[evie-sturns]

missed you - Chris Sturniolo

summary: where you see your boyfriend for the first time in 3 weeks, all you want is his dick.

contains: cockwarming, fluff, swearing, nsfw

——————————————————————————

chris and i have been together for over a year, now that his career is getting busy he takes regular work trips with his brothers, leaving me alone for a couple of weeks.

today is the day where chris finally comes home after 3 weeks, and god have i needed him.

i lay back on chris and i’s shared bed, scrolling aimlessly through instagram as my eyes repeatedly flick up towards the time.

my mind starts to wonder, since chris and i haven’t had sex in 3 weeks i can barely imagine the thinks we are going to get up to.

it turns me on just thinking about it, i don’t even realise the fact i’m squeezing my thighs together desperately. i feel a familiar heat grow between my legs as i let out a sexually frustrated sigh.

click

the door to our house unlocks with a faint click, i shoot up in bed and sprint for the door handle

i swing it open and run down the corridor where chris is standing,

“chris!” i squeal before jumping into his large arms, he lets out a small laugh before wrapping his arms around me,

“i missed you so much baby!” chris smiles before placing me back down on my feet.

“how was it!!” i smile widely, grabbing chris’s hand, desperate for some sort of touch of his.

“mmm, not great” chris hums, dragging his bag towards our room,

“i’m sorry to hear that chris, i have a lot to tell you though..” i say with a small jump.

“do you now?” chris teases, i nod my head with a ‘mhm’

i open the door to our room, “it’s so clean in here.” chris states while rubbing his eyes.

“just for you” i say rubbing my shoulder on him,

“you’re so corny.” he scoffs, chucking his bag in the wardrobe and tossing his shirt along with it, leaving him in just his sweatpants and a red cap.

i jump into bed, the thin fabric of my pyjamas press against my cold skin as i tug the covers up over me.

chris sets himself down on his desk chair, he pulls off his hat with a small sigh before powering his computer up.

i observe as he clicks through the various files on his computer before settling on the one which has all the footage that he filmed this month,

“chris..” i whine quietly,

“yeah?” he turns back to look at me,

“how long is that ‘gonna take you.” i pout,

“about… an hour? maybe.” he replies with a small nod.

i run my hands over my face with a big sig,

“what’s wrong gorgeous girl.” chris smiles,

“i don’t know- ‘m just need you.” i say shyly, chris nods understandably

“need me like how?” he asks, he knows what i mean but his constant need to tease me is taking over.

“need you to touch me.. or something.” i whisper, avoiding all eye contact with chris.

chris stays silent, wanting a better response out of me.

i exhale loudly with a small smile, “i want you.. your dick.”

chris stands up and walks over to me, his large frame leans over the bed as he looks down at me,

“is that so?” he says softly, i nod.

he sits down in bed beside me, his back presses against the headboard as he sits next to me.

“c’mon up.” chris grins, i let the covers fall off of my body as i sit up in bed,

i swing my legs over chris and straddle him, my clothed cunt pressing against his bulge.

“you gotta tell me what you want princess.” he says, looking into my eyes.

“i want to feel you.. inside of me.” i say, “there she is.” chris chuckles.

he tugs down his sweatpants to his mid thighs, his erection springs out as i look at it very obviously

i hover off of chris’s lap for a second to pull my small shorts off, discarding them in the corner.

“you’re so pretty.” chris whispers, i get flustered easily, “stop it chris.” i giggle.

chris wraps a hand around his length, pumping a few times slowly, almost as though he was waiting for me to do something myself.

i take his length into my hands as chris shuffles his back further up the headboard of our bed, sitting him up properly.

i hover up above chris’s tip as i attempt to line his pink tip up with my slit.

“you need some help there?” he asks, i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.

he lays his large hands on my waist before pressing me down onto his length.

in the 3 weeks we’ve been apart i haven’t touched myself, it’s not the same without chris. meaning that i’m no longer used to chris’s size at all.

i let out a pathetic whimper as i look into chris’s eyes.

“you’re okay, just gonna give you a little bit at a time yeah?” chris says, all i can do is nod in response.

he lets me sink down further onto him, i feel him slowly getting deeper.

“oh chris- fuck.” i wince from the stretch. chris presses a quick kiss to my lips, “you’re okay, i promise baby.”

“you’re so tight aren’t you.” he whispers into my hair before bottoming out.

i sit fully down on his dick, feeling his tip rest on my cervix.

“w-why does it hurt.” i breathe out with a small laugh,

“you’re just not used to it, ya think?” he smiles, pressing another kiss to my swollen lips.

“yeah, i think so.”

“you wanna just sit here, try something new?” he asks, keeping his blue eyes fixed on mine.

i nod eagerly, letting my head fall towards onto his boney shoulder.

i adjust to his size slowly, chris wraps his arms around my back as he holds me close to him.

“feeling okay?” he whispers, i nod

the sensation of chris so deep inside of me, filling me completely to the brim is driving me crazy. i never want to move from this position.

“this feels.. so good chris.” i sigh, chris lets out a small laugh before pressing a kiss to my cheek.

i sit back up on his lap, earning a groan from chris’s pink lips.

“you like sitting on my cock don’t you?” he teases, reaching one of his large hands up and cupping my jaw, he presses a thumb into my mouth and rests its against his tongue.

i swirl my tongue around his thumb with a smile, “mhm!” i reply eagerly.

i lean back slightly and rest my hands against chris’s thighs from behind me,

“oh fuck-“ chris almost gasps, he reaches out his hand and rubs my lower stomach.

i look down and see a clear stomach bulge, i clench around chris just from the sight.

my eyes widen as i shift around on his lap, my clit rubs against the skin above his dick

the stomach bulge moves around with each of my movements. chris throws his head back against the headboard messily, “fuck you squeeze me so well.”

i let out a loud moan of his name as i repeatedly rut my hips, brushing my clit against his pelvis.

“i’m right here, you got it.” he praises, i clench around his dick and feel the knot in my stomach snap.

all pleasure washes over me, i feel myself release on his length as my cheeks flush.

“oh gosh-“ i pant, letting my head fall onto his boney collarbone.

i feel chris quickly thrust up into me desperately, i let out a small gasp from overstimulation.

“i’m sorry-“ he breathes before thrusting once more, he released inside of me as his hands find my way to my hips,

i feel him coat my insides with a loud whimper,

the only sound in the hot room are our pants, recovering from.. that.

i sit back up and go to pull off of him, “n-no.” chris stutters, grabbing my waist and pushing me back down onto his dick

“chris.. i need to go to get water.” i protest with a cheeky smile,

“no.. i want you to stay here on me.” chris laughs slightly.

“hmm…” i hum,

“please..?” chris whines, looking at me with with pouting lips.

“okay.” i give in, chris lays down onto the bed.

i lay down onto his body, him still buried inside of me, filling me perfectly.

he wraps his arms around me and presses a kiss to my forehead.

"you are so needy" i sigh with a small laugh,

"i mean you do keep giving me what i need.." he teases back

—————

@gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @mattybsgf @stupid4sturniolo @lydi2718 @chrisstopherfilmed2 @flosslikeabosss @zturndq @skysturniolo @jetaimevous @sturniolo04 @luxy-nyx @aliceloveschris @livvy4realll @chrissturnsss @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae@sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

[vivwritesfics]

Mini Me

With how shitty my life is rn, I keep having these depressive episodes. Turns out my depressive episodes breed fluff

Max's six year old son has just started karting and his wife has to take him. Boy oh boy, does he miss his wife and son.

"So, Max, can we expect to see your little one around the paddock today?"

Ever since the day he was born, Fabian Verstappen had been seen with his parents around the Formula One paddock. He was always smiling and waving at those he knew and those he didn't. Fabian Verstappen was the happiest boy around.

Max was very proud of his boy. He showed him off to whoever he could. When he was young, he sat on Max's hip while he completed interviews and such.

Fabian was Max's number one supporter (Tied only by Max's wife and Fabians mother, Y/N. She followed him around the world three times before agreeing to marry him. It was a year long engagement, and in that time Y/N found out she was pregnant. They managed to keep it hidden until after their wedding, although Y/N did have to get a dress that better fit her bump).

There was a year between Fabian being born and him being able to attend his first race. Christian was happy to get him fitted out in Red bull Racing merchandise. He got his own little hat and a too large Red bull shirt with a thirty three on it (Max had lost that years championship. Red bull had won the constructors but Max had just missed out on the WDC. Red bull had worked out the kinks in the car and Max was bound to win this year, just as he had the previous year).

This year was the first year Fabian and Y/N weren't there to cheer Max on. And interviewers certainly picked up on it.

"Uh, no," Max answered when they asked about Fabian. "He and my wife are at a karting event right now."

The interviewer gave him a nod. "Following in your footsteps perhaps?"

Letting out a laugh, Max nodded his head. "We can only hope," he said.

"Do you think we'll be seeing him in a Red bull Racing suit in the next fifteen years?"

Again, Max nodded his head. "If he's anything like his dad, he'll be in a Red bull Racing suit before that," he said and adjusted the cap on his head.

Max left the interview and checked his phone. As much as he wanted Fabian and Y/N at his race, he knew how important karting was to his son.

Max has always been Fabian's hero. His first full sentence was 'I wanna be like daddy'. Max and Y/N did whatever they could to make Fabian's dream come true.

The one thing Fabian wanted but he couldn't have was to have his daddy at his karting races, watching him. There had been a lot of screaming and crying while Max and Y/N tried to explain to him why his father couldn't be there.

But Fabian had made friends at his Karting matches. He and the other kids he had raced against got along like peas in a pod. Fabian's first ever play date was with his karting friends. Some of them had been sat with their eyes and mouths wide open while Max brought them juice. They couldn't believe he, their hero and favourite driver, was Fabian's dad.

Max pulled out his phone and checked his messages. Nothing from his wife yet, but Fabian's race should have been done, he realised when he checked the time.

Dialling her number, Max pressed his phone to his ear.

It took Y/N a moment to pick up. "Hey handsome," she said in a chipper voice when she picked up the phone. Her voice was distant and slightly distorted, and Max realised she was in the car.

"Hello, Liefje. How's our little racer?" He asked her.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Came Fabian's voice. "I won! I won! I won!" He shouted.

Well, that answered Max's question. His cheeks were warm as he smiled, listening to his son. "Ik ben zo trots op je, mijn jongen. Ik kan niet wachten om jullie twee weer te zien!" (I'm so proud of you, my boy. I can't wait to see you too again!)

There was a moment before Fabian responded. He was fluent in English and French, but he was only good at Dutch. It still took him some time before he could work out what Max was saying and respond.

"Papa, ik... heb een... trofee." (Daddy, I got a trophy.)

There was a certain sense of joy that filled Max whenever Fabian answered him in Dutch. "Fabi, make sure mommy sends me a picture of your trophy," he said.

"I will do, Maxy," Y/N responded for the little boy. "Fabi, what do we say to papa?"

Again, Fabian was quiet for a moment. "Oh!" He suddenly cried from the back of the car. "Good luck with your race, Papa! Maybe you can win like me!"

The Verstappens laughed.

"Good luck, Max. Call me after you've won."

"I will, Liefje. I love you."

"I love you too."

Max hung up the phone after that. He his qualifying to get ready for. As he got ready, though, he spent the entire time thinking about his wife and son. He checked his phone constantly, waiting for Y/N to send over the picture of Fabian and his trophy.

No father had ever been prouder of his little boy than Max. Fabian was his everything and he couldn't wait to see him in the big leagues. Who knows, maybe Max would still be racing alongside him. Maybe he'd have Horner's job, team principle of Red bull Racing while his son raced as their number one driver.

No matter what, Max would always be Fabian's number one supporter.

[bluetimeombre]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　° Call it what you want to, part two

[people actually liked it!!! and i loved it so here's more. p.s, i love tom blyth ever since i watched ballad of songbirds and snakes (four times in cinema) and i've loved timothee from the beginning and that's something nobody can take away from me!!!! also, i have nothing against kylie, i do not keep up with the kardashians so i can't say anything, but let's just imagine....]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

liked by... yourusername, rachelzegler, jacobelordi, hunterscahfer & others

tomblyth: hermes camp!

tagged: yourusername

781k likes 309k comments

user: they're together omg!

user: it's happening, it's happening !!!

user: what is a hermes camp?

yourusername: personally i'm more of an ares girl but i'll take it

user: PLS

user: she's just like us

user: they're literally in love

user: IM OBSESSED WITH YOU

user: i thought she was supposed to be in london

user: there's a thing called a plane

user: TOM I LOVE YOU

user: he's so bf ahhhhh

user: do you think she's leading tom on and then gonna go for timmy

user: parents!!!

user: pls be together, i can't be a child of divorce again

user: yourusername i love you!!

user: tchalamet

user: tchamalet

user: tchamalet

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

you are calling... 'timothee chalamet'

you: timmy help me i'm so lost and my phone is on 2%

timothee *laughing*: what do you mean? where are you?

you: i have literally no idea, i went to get breakfast

timothee: whaaaat, i went to get us breakfast

you *walking around london looking very lost* well you didn't tell me that

timothee *smiling fondly at you, but you couldn't see as you were looking around the streets* i did, i told you last night i'd get you your favourite

you: there was nobody in the hotel and i didn't know what to do. timothee please tell me you have a portable charger

timothee: i have a spare one for you

you: thank you! you're a star- omg i almost got hit my a black cab

timothee: hey, where are you?

you: i don't know, i think i've gone in a massive circle. should i get a taxi back to the hotel?

timothee *who had gotten excited to see you*: no! no-urm- oh hey, wait a minute hold on

you: my phone is on 2% please! *but you hold on, watching- or more so listening- as timothee greets what you assume was a fan, he keeps his phone on, and you're smiling at the screen (and pulling the occasional face) whilst you wait. he quickly hugs the fan and pulls his phone back out to talk to you* mr hollywood!

timothee: shut up, ok where are you?

you: i think i'm like *you look around you, missing timothee grabbing a quick screenshot of your facetime* i'm by _______

timothee: ok, i know where that is, or i think i do. wait there, i'll come to you

you: oh! there's a cafe, i'll get a coffee

timothee: i've got you one here!

you: i can drink two, i promise

you put the phone down, wanting to keep whatever battery you had and ordered yourself a coffee, taking a seat by the window. you were just lucky you had your journal to keep you satisfy while you wait for timothee to somehow find you.

(little did you know he was literally jogging to meet you in the cafe with a dying phone.)

you were half way through your coffee when the bell above the door rang and he walked in. you hadn't realised, leaning over the journal and scribbling away.

timothee noticed you- it was a relatively small cafe for london. he snapped a shot of you before quietly coming up behind you. he took his cap off, throwing it on your hair.

'you could've been anyone!' you say, closing your journal and turning to him.

'morning!' he grinned taking the seat across from you and shuffling in. 'how did you get lost?'

'there was nobody in the hotel and they said you'd gone out ten minutes ago, i didn't know you could get so far in ten minutes!'

timothee slid a bag over to you. 'i got your favourites.'

you had no idea how to act around timothee. working with him was fun, easy, you guys get along great. but after filming and after you'd been on another set and done separate things, it felt different. you guys weren't in your own little worlds anymore. you were with tom blyth and he was perfect, and then timothee would do small things, give you his jumper or his cap or pick up things he specifically knew you liked. but he had a girlfriend, he had kylie jenner! there was no way he was doing this in hopes of gaining your attention. maybe it was just how he was with friends.

'you didn't have to do that,' you said, taking off his hat and putting it between you two.

he shrugged, leaning over again. 'what? c'mon, course i did. it's a big day.'

it was premier day. wonka was premiering in london. this was your third premier, but was sure to be one of the biggest.

timothee grinned at you, watching your lips quip up. he pulled out a portable charger from his pocket, offering it to you. truth is, five minutes ago he didn't have one but when you told him you needed one, on the way to meet you he grabbed one.

suddenly, the barista approached your table and you grabbed the bag, thinking she was going to tell you guys off for bringing in food and drinks from somewhere else.

'I'm so sorry, i'm a big fan,' she said.

you laugh, throwing him his hat as he blushed madly at being caught. 'i told you! you can't go anywhere!'

timothee greeted the fan warmly before also introducing you. then, she recognised you too. it was still new to you, being known and people asking for pictures or something to be signed, but you were more than happy to oblige.

and the pictures came out. a few of the two of you with fans and in some, maybe a lot, maybe even most, timothee was looking over at you.

user1: GUYS I LITERALY MET tchalamet AND yourusername THEY WERE SO SWEET AND LOVLEY

301 likes 100 comments

user: OMG LUCKY

user: were they on a date???

user1: noooo, i think they were just meeting up

user: they always look so good

user: imagine just going to work and meeting THEM

user1: they were so cute, timothee literally brought her breakfast, saying he got her favourites which means he knows her favourites, like that's goals right there!

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

liked by... zendaya, tomholland2013, florencepugh, kidcudi, yourusername & others

tchalamet: WONKA IN LONDON!

tagged: yourusername

1.2m likes 901k comments

user: style icon!!

user: does he realise there's other people but yourusername in the movie?

user: OMG I SAW YOU TONIGHT

user: can't believe i missed it!!

user: the last picture !!!!

user: WHY IS NOBDOY TALKING ABOUT THE LAST PICTURE???!!! THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT HER

user: yourusername is stronger than me, if timothee looked at me like that i would melt

tomholland2013: looking good mate, can't wait to see the film!

tchalamet: thank you brother, lunch soon 🙏🙏

user: tomholland2013, ariana, what are you doing here

user: he put a whole post up just for her

user: I WANT YOU SO BAD

user: her dress, stunning!!!!

user: he's literally so in love with her

user: ARE THEY DATING?

user: he's with kylie!!!

user: apparently she was there last night

user: she's stronger than me, i would not let my man look at another woman like that

user: is ship it

user: is this movie a god damn musical?

user: how can she be with tom one minute then timothee the next

user: EVERYONE PLS THEY'RE LITERALY FRIENDS, TIMOTHEE MAKES FRIENDS WITH ALL HIS CO-STARS

user: friends do not look at each other like THAT

user: they'd literaly be the hottest couple in hollywood

user: power couple

user: ❤️

user: <<33

user: yourshipname

liked by... oliviarodrigo, tomblyth, tomholland2013, tchalamet, gracieabrams & others

yourusername: wonka, london! thank you so much for all the love on the movie. i want you all to love daisy as much as i do! and thank you gucci for the dress and making me one step closer to harry styles x

1.1m likes 701k comments

user: SHE'S SO FUNNY WHAT

user: GORGEOUS

user: OMG

user: 🔥🔥🔥

user: the last picture is my new screen saver thank you

user: HOW DOES SHE GET THAT CLOSE TO TIMOTHEE

user: HAWT

rachelzegler: the prettiest girl ever

yourusername: stfu, don't make me kiss you

user: first tom, now timothee, next she'll get harry

user: GUCCI OMG SLAY

user: my mother everybody, my mother

user: flawless

user: ur so beautiful

tomblyth: beautiful

yourusername liked tomblyth's comment

tchalamet: afterparty!!!

yourusername: dude, get through the premier first

wonkamovie: we love daisy!

user: timmy is literaly in love with you

user: plssss date timmy

user: i love youuuuu

user: wonka sucked!

user: slut!

yourusername: great song by taylor swift

taylorswift liked yourusername's comment

user: collaboration of gucci between harrystyles and yourusername when?

user: is hugh grant cgi in this movie or can he actually just do that?

yourusername: no cgi went into the making of this movie

user: she's so funny for what!!!!

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

'Timothee Chalamet!' he had been yelled at all night, by fans, by press, by anyone and everyone. he'd already posed for cast pictures, getting in a huge line, holding onto each other and taking the pictures.

so what if he had reached across the director, paul king's, back to hold onto your arm. and surely nobody would notice if he looked over to gage your reaction and see you smile at him. it wasn't like there were hundreds of camera's around him snapping a shot of every moment.

he headed over to the woman who had called his name, pausing by the barrier to say hello. 'yes ma'am.'

'woah, don't you look amazing, as always. first of, who are you wearing tonight, you know i got to ask!' she said.

'this is my man tom, tom ford,' he answered, laughing awkwardly at the end. 'i almost went gucci- it was almost gucci, but i couldn't do that to harry.'

'you look good either way, have you had much time with your co-stars so far tonight?'

'yea i mean, i've seen hugh, spent some time with keegan, love to see the man. we all got some photos-'

his attention and the press's attention is distracted when you stroll up to answer some questions not far from him, close enough to see how radiant you look close up. his lips turned into a smile, his arm hovering somewhere between a wave and a nudge to try to get your attenstion.

'oh woah,' might have slipped past his lips as the press held the microphone up to his lips.

'doesn't she just look fantastic?' she asked.

'hell yea!' timothee smiled, focusing back on the interview, 'always.'

'now i know you got to go soon, so just one final question, would you like a bit of chocolate?'

his face lit up. 'chocolate, oh my god i would love some, thank you. can i take two?' he asked, knowing what he'd do with the other. he was offered two little chocolates and quickly said goodbye. instead of heading into the theatre, he headed for you.

as you were chatting with the press, he didn't want to interrupt. instead, he slipped by, gently touching your arm and reaching over to whisper: 'i'll wait for you,'. but your camera caught your blush and the way you couldn't answer properly after that.

once you were done with your questions, timothee was still there waiting for you. he hugged you immediately, rubbing your arms as goosebumps rose on them. of course he'd think it's from the winter evening, when it had everything to do with him.

'you look amazing, timothee!' you gush, pulling back.

'me? look at you, you're so beautiful!' he said, keeping a hold on your arm.

'oh shut up.'

the camera's flashes were brighter, bigger and the shouts increased as they caught pictures of the two of you. but neither of you would stop for pictures, heading into the cinema.

'here.' he gave you the other little chocolate and the two of you un-wrapped them, popping them into your mouths. 'at least you didn't get lost this time.,' he joked.

you rolled your eyes.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

user: omg it's happening, it's happening

user: AHHHHHHHHHH

user: mom and dad just hard launched their relationship

user: rue, when was this?!

user: a couple days ago, after the wonka press tour and the premiers, they were seen at dinner together and making out!

user: i'm so happy

user: real life lucy-grey and coryo

user: FINALY OMG

user: what about timmy :((((( he's so in love with her

user: he has a gf

user: i feel bad for timmy

user: THE THIRD PICTURE HELLO? WHY DOES MY MAN KISS LIKE HE'S STARVING

user: he only kisses her like that

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

liked by... tomblyth, oliviarodrigo, louispartrdige_, lola.tung & others

yourusername: i love british boys (i'm literally just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her)

706k likes 201k comments

user: hard launch who?

user: they're so cute i can't

user: the caption, so real

user: omg it's so funny, do you think hugh has seen this?

user: she's back in london!!!

user: i love them please they're so cute

tomblyth: and i'm literally going to run into your press conference and ask you to be with me forever

yourusername: i'm sitting right next to you, clearly you're running nowhere

user: STOP they're so cute

user: i miss her and timmy!

user: notting hill!! she knows taste

user: i want her and timmy together

user: tom and her were made for each other, like have you seen their interviews

user: funny how timothee doesn't like pictures when it's featuring tom but he'll literally like all of her other pictures

liked by... yourusername, gq, tayrussell, emmawatson, selenagomez & others

tchalamet: thank you london! and thank you for making me a (honorary) british boy!

1.2m likes 771k comments

user: petty king!

user: plssss!! not after yourusername's post

user: he's so obessed with her i can't

user: i chose to believe yourusername took the first pic of him, it's laterally from the premier

user: COME BACK TO LONDON SOON

user: bring back little timmy tim!!!!

user: you were amazing in wonka!!

user: OMG MY MAN IS NOMINATED FOR A GOLDEN GLOBE

user: GOLDEN GLOBES BABY

user: i have the wonka soundtrack stuck in my head

user: is that yourusername in the last pic?

user: i love him!

user: marry me

user: omg he's so regulus black

user: how does he look good no matter what

user: DONT BE A FOOL AND GO GET YOUR GIRL TIMMY

user: in interviews, yourusername has literally said timmy is her celeb crush, girl same

user: how do you feel about tomblyth and yourusername?

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

582 likes

[comments restricted]

user: update, he follows one person on instragram and it's yourusername

[luveline]

hi lovely!! you mentioned bombshell!reader holding spencer's hand the whole time after the whole tobias incident and i wanted to request a more in-depth continuation of that, if it's alright? maybe with reader helping spence with his addiction afterwards too bc i just hate how the team didn't support him properly during that time 😭

There's something cold touching his hand. Actually, there's lots of things happening to his hand. 

Spencer fights to open heavy lashes, closes them again when the white hospital wall bathed in early morning sun burns his retinas. Alert, he realises that the hand in his is sweetly soft, with gentle fingertips holding his marriage finger up higher than the rest. You're playing with his hands while he sleeps.

Spencer opens his eyes again. There's no machine taking his observations, no beeping or whistling or medical ringing to be heard, just the soft huff and puff of your breathing and the sound of your heel tapping the floor. 

There had been more noise last time he woke, but the same amount of you. 

“Spencer?” 

He looks up from your hands holding his to your face. It's not fair, he thinks, how pretty you are, how pretty you continue to be, with your hair, your smile, your ever-smirking lips. You're doing it now, the sight of your painted smile squeezing his heart into a frenzied beating. If they were still taking his observations, he'd die from embarrassment. 

“Hey,” you say, still smiling, hands more insistent on his. 

“Hey. What are you doing here?” 

“What does it look like I'm doing, handsome?” you ask. 

“Did you go home?” 

“Of course I did.” You don't sound truthful. “Want a drink?” 

You pull a bottle of water from your handbag and pass it to him. He has to take his hand from yours to open it, and he wishes he'd said no. Spencer would happily go thirsty to prolong your touch and the security it brings with it. He's antsy as he swallows, a foreign-body feeling pervasive as he caps the drink, puts the bottle aside, and rubs the crust from his eyes. Lank hair falls into his face. 

“You okay?” you ask gently. 

“When can I leave?” 

“Tonight… They want to make sure you're, you know… properly weaned.” Your voice comes out quieter than he's ever heard it before. 

It's as forward as anyone's bothered being about the drugs. The drug, singular. 

Dilaudid is eight times stronger than morphine. Spencer was injected multiple times. His body won't be totally addicted, but he craves the numbness of it already. Whatever he's on isn't cutting through the pain in his legs and feet, nor the memories of being tied up, and all alone. 

“I think I'm gonna be sick,” he says. 

You grab for a blanket off of the edge of the bed to cover his lap as he hangs his head, sure he's going to throw up, but he doesn't so much as heave. The nausea remains anyhow, and worsens as you sit beside his legs. Your hand once again takes his, fingers slotting together as though they were made for this one purpose, your voice a clean, cleaving thing, “Hey, it's alright. It's fine, Spence, you're okay. This is expected.” He curls in on himself. You tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, tugging his hand closer to you in tandem. “You're gonna feel awful for a few days, but I'm right here.” 

“Why are you here?” he asks, confused. 

“Spence.” 

He looks up from under his lashes. 

Your semi-permanent smile seems to have gotten lost somewhere. “Spencer,” you say, attempting to say something without really saying it, eyes glued to his, “where else would I be?” 

He rubs the place between his brows with the heel of his palm. You keep his hand and wrap him in a careful hug. Either you don't notice how desperately he needs a hot shower or you don't care, gracing his cheek with a friendly (and unmissably loving) kiss. It's hard not to cry after that. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you say. You weren't even on the case, but you'd showed up just as soon as you knew he'd been taken, and you haven't left his side since they found him in the cemetery. You don't have a thing in the world to be sorry for. “I'm so sorry. It'll be okay now.” Your voice ripples with surety. 

“Thanks for staying,” he says. 

“You did all the hard work by yourself.” You squeeze his fingers. “I can do the rest, babe.” 

[alotofpockets]

I've got them | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You offer to watch Billy and Tommy. When Wanda sees you interracting with her kids, she realises her feelings towards you might be more than just a simple crush.

Marvel masterlist | Words: 1.4k

-----

“Come on Maximoff, you can't bail on Sunday brunch again.” Natasha shook her head, already knowing what her best friend was about to say. “You know I'd love nothing more than to join you guys, but I've got no one to watch the boys on Sundays since the weekend sitter moved away.” It was hard finding a sitter for the two energetic boys, especially when their mom was an Avenger. 

You were walking into the room with mission debriefing rapports for the meeting the team was about to have and overheard the conversation. “I’m free Sunday, I don’t mind watching them.” Wanda’s eyes shoot up to you. “Oh that would be too much-” Natasha interrupts her. “That would be much appreciated.” With a nudge from her best friend Wanda agrees. “Alright then, I have to get these to Tony, but find me in my office later for the details?” You wave the stack of papers in the air. “Yeah, sure.” Wanda responds before you smile in her direction and are off again. 

“Why did you do that?” Wanda shoves Natasha away from her. “Well, you clearly like y/n, and she’s met the boys before. See it as a way for them to bond, and then you can finally tell her how you feel.” Wanda’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red. “You really need to stop being my wing woman, and let me live my life.” Natasha sits down at the meeting table, as the rest of the team makes their way into the room. “Now what would be the fun in that?”

Once the meeting was done Wanda made her way over to the office wing of the Compound. Walking the familiar path to your office made her chest warm, Natasha’s words were true. Wanda had a crush on you for about three months now, never had she said those words out loud, but over time she would start spending more and more time with you. Did she need to be on this side of the Compound? No, not at all, but she grasped every opportunity to spend time with you. On the other hand, you were loving the frequent visits from Wanda, always reserving some time in your schedule to spend proper time with her when she would show up.

“Hi Wands, how was the meeting?” She shrugged her shoulders, “Nothing special. I do have these for you, though.” She hands you the file with meeting notes. It had been quite some time now that Wanda brought these to you, instead of Fury or Cap, you were more than happy to receive them from her though. “So, Sunday?” Wanda’s face turned serious quickly. “You really don’t have to watch the boys, it’s too much to ask anyways.” You smiled at her warmly, “First off, you didn’t ask, I offered. Second off, I would love to watch them, they seem like great kids.” You discuss further details until you both have to get back to work. 

That’s how you found yourself on the doorstep of the Maximoff household on Sunday. Wanda let you in while the boys were running around the living room chasing each other. “Boy’s, y/n is here, can you please come say hi.” They came to a halt in front of you, “Hi.” They said simultaneously. “Hi kiddos, it's good to see you again.” 

Wanda showed you around the house for a bit, so you knew where to find everything you might need. “Okay, and call me if anything is wrong, I can be back in 5 minutes.” You stopped her with your hands on her shoulders, “I’ve got them, Wands. Go have fun with your friends.” You didn’t miss the way her eyes widened slightly, and her breath hitched. “Alright, thank you again.” She turned to her kids, “Boy’s be nice, I’ll be back in around two hours. I love you both.” The boys both smiled her way and said, “We love you too.”

The boys were getting tired from running around and plopped down next to you on the couch. “Seems like you two are in need of food, what would you like?” They both wanted bagels with cream cheese, so you headed into the kitchen to get that ready for them as well as for yourself. 

During lunch Billy and Tommy asked you all kinds of questions to get to know you better. Do you have superpowers? What do you do for the Avengers? How do you know our mom? You answered all of their questions happily. Tommy was up next with another question, “Who is your favourite Avenger?” You smiled, “That’s easy, your mom is my favourite Avenger.” They both shared a look and started giggling, “Why?” It didn’t take long for you to answer, “Well, your mom is really kind, and cares a lot about people. She always makes sure the rest of the Avengers are well taken care of. And of course her red wiggly woos are pretty cool.” The boys giggled at the last part of your reasoning. “Is your mom your favourite Avenger too?” Both boys nod their heads instantly, “Mom is the best.” 

After the boys helped you clean up the lunch dishes all on their own, they seemed to have found their energy right back. At first they started chasing each other again, but you had an idea that wouldn’t end up with one of them getting hurt. You connected your phone with the speakers in the living room and started some music. The boys halted their running and looked your way at the first sound of music. “You’re not going to make me dance alone right?” 

The three of you were jumping around to the music when Wanda came back home, none of you realised though. You were too busy singing along to the music and twirling around together. Wanda watched the scene from the side of the room, her smile wide, and her heart full. She realised in that moment, while you were interacting with her kids that her feelings for you far exceeded those of a simple crush, she was falling for you hard.

You saw Wanda from the corner of your eye and moved towards her. “Dance with us?” You ask her with your hand held out.She places her hand in yours and lets herself get dragged over to the makeshift dance floor. After twirling her towards the boys, the four of you jump around together. The happy smiles on her children’s faces meant the world to Wanda, and the smile on her face meant the world to you. 

A slower song came on, and you took Billy’s hand to let him twirl you around, which isn’t very smooth with the height difference but it was the fun you were having that counted. “You should dance with mom.” He said, pushing you towards Wanda. You tap on Tommy’s shoulder. “Excuse me sir, do you mind if I steal the lady for a dance?” He happily hands over the dance to you. Behind your back the boys high five each other, with smug smiles on their faces. 

You slow dance with Wanda all throughout the song. The soft hint of her perfume spread around you, as you spun her around. Once the song came to an end you separated again, but something felt different. Neither one of you could wipe the smile off of your face. That was until you checked the time, “This has been a lot of fun, but I should head home.” Both Billy and Tommy come running towards you and engulf you in a big hug, “Thank you for hanging out with us today.” You hug them back, “We had a lot of fun.” They step away again as you tell them that you had a great time as well.

Wanda walked you towards the door and stepped outside with you. “Again thank you so much for doing this. I don’t know how I can repay you.” You smiled at the idea that popped up in your head. “How about you let me take you out on a date?” A smile started playing on Wanda's lips, “I would love that, let’s do it.” 

“Mooom.” Was heard from inside the house. “Duty calls, text me the details?” With a nod and a wave, you make your way back to your car. You weren’t able to wipe the smile off of your face the whole drive home, you were going to go on a date with Wanda.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[frostironfudge]

I Need You To Listen - Steve Rogers

Summary: For @the-slumberparty 's Week 3 Something New Challenge, I went with the medium mode - sex pollen but with exes to lovers. This took alot of work I ended up rewriting it entirely, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 7.4k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, angst, smut, fluff, sex pollen, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, love bites, steve rogers dirty talking (this man), swearing, nipple play, past is in italics, sort of a post civil war rewrite so we're going completely off canon

Main Masterlist || AO3

Fate works in the most hilarious of ways, a stubbed toe over here and a broken heart still being nursed over there. 

Tony Stark stands in front of your cell, staring at you through the glass. You don’t hold back your tears from him. Disappointment colours his features. 

Broken pieces of trust lay scattered on the floor. The damage by him was done. Leaving you to bear the brunt. Leaving you to walk on the jagged edges of the broken family. 

A family that shared jokes, laughed, drank and protected each other. 

Won together. 

Lost together. 

In the past few days died together. 

“How are you holding up?” His arc reactor gleams as he takes a seat on the stool. Unzipping the jacket he wears his arm in a sling. You close your eyes, more tears fall at the memory of the fight. An involuntary shiver as the chiling bite of the cold manifests itself from your memory. 

The cell isn’t uncomfortable. There is a cot in the corner, the bathroom has a door. The sterile scent of the cleaning agent stopped giving you a headache hours ago. 

“Why are you asking me?” You look at him, he should be mad, he should yell, call you a traitor. 

“Contrary to what you all think and did to me, I trust you.” He shrugs, left eye twitching, he rolls his shoulder. 

“How is the arm?” Your gaze falls to it. 

“Seen better days. You know, heart troubles.” He looks at Wanda’s cell, “Kid, Vis is asking about you.” 

She looks up at him, “Is Rhodes alright?” 

Tony presses his lips into a thin line, shaking his head. 

Wanda looks down at her hands. 

“He tore us apart. That Baron Zemo. I know you have a lot to learn, alot to grieve. The accords may be dissolved. I’m working on it. At SI we’re  preparing the bail documents.” He informs you all. 

Sam scoffs, “What about Cap and Barnes?” 

“James is in recovery as per my last conversation with T’Challa. Where Cap and Nat are I do not know nor does he.” Tony gazes back at you. 

“I trusted him.” Is all you can say to him. You stare at your palms, you couldn’t get the blood off. 

“I know, I did too.” 

“Tony.” Your lips quiver another sob at the heartbreak Steve left you with to deal. All alone. 

Bucky fights Tony, you don’t want to see your best friend hurt. The man who took you under his wing when you joined in, your steps halted by the blonde haired man who harbours your heart. 

“Sign the accords.” Steve orders, you gape at him. 

“Steve, do you fucking realise? We’re here because I didn’t sign them because I am siding with you?” You almost yell. The tempreture drops as the snow cascades into the facility from the now broken windows. 

Bucky lands on the floor, a pained groan, his arm blasted off. He kneels, eyes widened at the implication. At the man he hurt irreparablely being the one to take away one of the curses HYDRA bestowed upon him. 

“Shit!” Your eyes move to Tony, slowly he rises from the floor. The suit broken in several places. 

“Y/N, you need to listen. You cannot go rogue with me.” 

“Steve,” You push his arm away you had to intervene. 

“It was good while it lasted.” He says and everything turns to static. 

“Wh-what?” 

“Look, I, we had a good run but I know your stance on the accords you’re just with me for the sole reason we’re together.” Steve says to you. 

“Are you serious right now?” Anger courses through you, your grip on your pistol tightens. 

“It's not even the accords. I, I didn’t think we would make it beyond this month. Look, I have to think about Bucky. Its all of this, it doesn’t, priorities.” He lunges over to defend Bucky leaving you defenceless. Your ears ringing, you watch as they fight, you can’t hear any of the clangs the groans. 

You stand there dumbfounded. 

As Steve throws Tony down the beam reflects off of his shield and hits you on the shoulder you’re thrown against the wall. Bucky meets your eyes, at least he seems apologetic.  

Tony tries to get up to help you, “Rogers, she’s hurt—,” The shield slams against the arc reactor. 

“I don’t care.” He says so easily.

You pant as the pain increases, both the burn and sting of his words as well as the physical injuries manifesting across you. 

Steve helps Bucky up, you try to push yourself to your knees, crawling to Tony while keeping your arm close to your body. 

Bucky looks back at you, his eyes convey his remorse. Tony breathes hard, you blink back tears at the glance Steve doesn’t spare towards you. 

Eight months down the drain.

The morning kisses, cuddles, the random sketches of you he left as gifts all lose their importance. Remembrance only causes pain. 

“Mr. Stark, you need to leave.” 

Tony sighs, “I’ll visit, or I’ll have you guys out before that. Work some arrangement.” 

“I’m so sorry, Tony.” You look at his arm and back at his face. 

He gives you one of those sad smiles of his, the one where he pretends it's just another day, another common thing. 

“Aren’t you foolish to trust us again?” Sam questions him as Tony passes by his cell. 

“I just have to do my job. It’s the people who have to trust us.” Tony turns to face Sam. 

“So the people trust the missile maker millionaire Stark?” Sam knows the jab is stinging, Tony hated 

that about the company’s past. 

The rift was ever present, your friend looks towards you. 

“Y/N, let him know not to insult me, I’m a billionaire.” He grabs his glasses and moves away. 

You resist the urge to laugh, everyone would resort to their coping mechanisms. You’d have to bide your time here. Usually getting black out drunk was how you solved your own problems. 

True to his word Tony has you all released on various conditions. You, Scott and Wanda are released together. 

When you reach the tower it isn’t surprising that there was a break in, you’d scoff that Steve didn’t come to break you out but he made his decision in Siberia. 

The faint scent of his cologne lingers in your room. Hints of Patchouli and Bergamot. You stare at the box on your bed. 

Opening it reveals a burner phone. 

“I got a burner too, one number loaded upon it.” Tony stands at the door holding a glass of scotch for himself and your favourite Vodka in a bottle. 

“Surprised he bothered.” You open the phone and it chimes an unread text upon it. 

“I didn’t get that.” He observes, you take the bottle from him. 

Opening the text. 

SGR: I want to talk to you. Please let me explain. 

You laugh bitterly, unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip. At least you can blame these tears on the alcohol. 

“Are you going to? Call him I mean.” Tony settles on your desk chair. 

“Nope.” You set your bottle down after three more sips, grabbing the edges of the opened flip phone you press. The phone snaps from its hinges and you place it back down in the box, “Did you track it?” 

“Fake return address.” He twirls the ice in his drink. 

The two of you bask in the silence. Drinking in tandem and out of sync. 

“Were you going to sign the Accords?” You ask after a while staring at the setting sun. 

“Nope,” He reaches for your bottle, pouring himself a peg, “I was having them redrafted. Steve only had to agree for them to shut up. My draft would have gotten approved.” 

“So confident.” You raise your brows. 

“Comes with the job title.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Do you think anyone will trust anyone?” You tap the bottle neck. 

Steve’s laughter reverberates against your chest. He reaches up to cup your face. 

“Why is it so amusing?” You ask, not meeting his eyes. 

“Because it is, Poppet. I wouldn’t break your heart.” He assures yet again. 

You gnaw at your bottom lip trust was difficult to come by for you. 

“You want to know why?” He whispers, making you meet his gaze. His nose brushing against your own. 

“Because I have your heart and it's what is keeping me alive.” 

You lean closer, pressing your lips to his, Steve kisses you back. Hands pulling you closer. You feel his smile between the kisses and you begin to retract knowing what he was upto but it’s too late. 

Steve tickles your sides and laughter blubbers from your chest. He grins, cheeks flushed as you press against him. The thin sheet hides nothing from the way you feel. 

“I love you.” He says, you stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“I loved him with everything in me.” You blubber out, tears falling down. 

Tony sits next to you, your head rests on his good shoulder, “I know you did. It's a hard road ahead, kid. Not an undoable one.” 

“I hate him.” You declare, “I hate him, he just, how could he be so selfish?” 

“Sometimes we all are, he is in the wrong. He didn’t exactly reciprocate the trust.” Tony sighs, you look up at him. 

“I’m sorry about your parents.” You watch him give you those sad smiles, he flexes and extends the fingers of his left hand. 

“He could have told me, I trusted him enough that he could.” He whispers then shakes his head. 

“Steve Rogers is an asshole.” You declare raising your bottle to his assholery. Then you giggle. 

“You just thought of the word assholery didn’t you?” Tony giggles as well. 

Both of you burst out laughing. 

“Hey Tone?” You ask mid laughter. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here, also can I get a box?”

“Sure.” He stands, FRIDAY has the box led by one of his tinkered bots to the room. 

“I need to check on Rhodey.” He says, “I’m a call away okay?” 

You nod, he leaves. The box stays on your bed and then you stare at the sketches hung around your room. With a delicateness that Steve didn’t spare towards you, you pack up the papers. Sealing the box with plastic wrap and head down to the safety deposit lockers. 

Your steps are misjudged and you drop your box of trinkets several times. The stupid ceramic mug from that couples pottery class probably shattered. 

You giggle thinking how it resembles your heart. 

Locking the box leaves you in silence. Your room is void of all things Steve except the one shirt he gave you on your first mission together where the two of you fell into the muddled waters that left the two of you in need to change out of clothes. 

The shirt smells like him, you curl up with it on your pillow. 

“This is the last time you gave your heart away.” You tell yourself. 

“This is the last time you cry over him.” You promise yourself. 

Eight months pass and you all sit in the conference room. The accords are abolished. They reinstate Natasha, Sharon, James, Sam and him. Tony holds his flip phone. Resorting to texting rather than speaking to him. 

A reply comes when you all are back at the tower. They’d be there tomorrow. Rooms are prepared with favourite foods stocked up. You had requested your room be shifted away to another level. 

Heart ache didn’t manifest beyond those few nights. 

Your walls that Steve Rogers broke down were built back stronger. Impenetrable. His shirt was placed in his room by you a month into getting over him. 

You don’t pass by the floor, you’re a level above. Thankfully the elevators divide the levels they service and you won’t ever be on the same floor as him. 

The night is restless despite your indifference to all of them. They were the family you chose and yet you were abandoned by them. 

Dreams are but a loop of memories you have buried. 

After your morning laps you head to Tony’s lab. 

“They will be dropping in at SHIELD first. Fury wants to discuss some things and then they come back here.” He stifles a yawn. 

“You need caffeine my friend.” You hold up the coffees, “Luckily I come bearing gifts.”

“I love you.” He whispers gingerly while taking the cup. 

“Are you talking to the coffee or me?” You ask, taking a sip of your own. 

“I can love both.” He defends, whispering to the coffee he loves it more. 

You throw one of his discarded paper balls on him. It doesn’t phase him. 

“Are you sure you want to come along?” He asks for the umpteenth time on the drive to SHIELD. 

“Tony, I will leave you behind if you ask me again.” You glare at him. 

“I think you will be fine.” Vision assures a gentle smile on his face and he laces his fingers with Wanda. She smiles at him, her own mind filled with thoughts. 

“See we’ll be okay.” You declare. 

Minutes later you’re seated on one side of the conference room. Tony on the first seat, you on the second. Vision opts to stand behind Wanda as she sits. 

Fury sits at the head of the table. The door opens and Natasha, Sam and Steve step into the room. A thick silence settles over. You look at each of them and then back at Fury. 

Natasha’s hair is shorter and blond, Sam seems to have gotten leaner. Steve was sporting a beard and longer hair. 

You wondered if the post break up look was something you should have gone for, maybe dyed your hair blue.

“Well, as you know you all have been reinstated. The Avengers operate without any Accords binding them but they must be mindful of their poweress and the possible damage they may cause. A country has full discretion to forbid the Avengers from subduing threats that may lead them there and you must honour that no matter the cost.” Fury gazes at you all. 

“What if they need help?” Steve questions, you scoff. 

Cold blues flash to you. You roll your eyes. 

“The dissolution of the Accords was done keeping this one rule in mind. I suggest you make peace with it. You will not be able to save everyone from damage and hurt, it is better than causing it.” Tony adds. 

Steve’s jaw tightens. He nods. 

“Now since this is done and dusted. Official missions may resume.” Fury places down a manila folder. 

“Official?” Sam questions, raising a brow. 

“Agent Y/L/N here was liasoning with us for recon purposes. Kept under wraps. We have identified HYRA bases. Once the plans are sanctioned you all will be back on duty.” Nick sighs, “I suggest you all train together to get a sense of your skill sets and moves again.” 

No one nods. 

Nick shakes his head leaving the room. 

“Your old rooms have been cleaned at the tower. Access is via FRIDAY, food is stocked. Layout’s almost the same. Few changes here and there. Oh and there are new succulents in the living room.” Tony fiddles with the folder. 

“We can conduct a meeting about these missions tonight or tomorrow. You all settle in, there is a car outside and your vehicles are in pristine condition at the garage.” He informs them further. 

“No welcome back party?” Nat muses, you laugh. 

“I drank all the liquor so unfortunately no parties.” You deadpan. 

Nat and Sam stare at you. 

“It has been a difficult few months. I understand everyone will take time to return to a semblance of previous normalcy.” Vision’s words are both reassuring but also farfetched. 

Wanda grasps his hand and gives it a squeeze. 

Steve’s brows furrow in worry. He observes you trying to find any hints but you give him none. You learned to school yourself. An agent well versed in hiding her intent, emotions and aim. Your skillset is what brought you to the team and it is what you have. It's what you could trust. 

Sam nods, “Well best we head back.” 

“Yes we could use some sleep.” Natasha says, you flash her a smile. 

“Yep, well I have a few things to discuss with Fury.��� You push away from the table first. Tony follows your lead. 

“Should you not include us in the conversation?” Steve says in his authoritative baritone. 

“Unfortunately, Captain, it isn’t an Avengers matter but a personal one. Which you aren’t entitled to know.” You spit back. 

His mouth opens again to speak. 

Tony beats him to it, “Where’s our Manchurian candidate?” 

“Bucky’s in the UK for a bit, after Wakanda we were there for a while. He stayed back for personal reasons.” Steve explains and you slip out. 

Steve stares at your room door, knocking on it yet again. Two weeks since his return and you had avoided him in every capacity.

He had worked up the courage to knock on your door today. But there was no response as it was over the past fifteen minutes. He requests FRIDAY to check in and all the AI says is that you’re fine.

You had gotten back from a mission yesterday morning. You had to have been resting. 

“Why won’t she open her door then?” He mutters, pressing his forehead to your door, “Poppet, I just want to speak to you. Please.”

“Captain.” Vision greets floating out of Wanda’s room.

“Vision.” He acknowledges.

“Why are you knocking on an empty room’s door?” Vision tilts his head. 

Steve blinks at him, “This is Y/N’s room.” he states as if obvious.

“It isn’t, she switched rooms about three months ago.” Vision says

Before Steve can ask anything further, Wanda opens her door, “Vis.” She gestures with her hand for him to return.

“Wanda.” He walks to her this time.

“FRIDAY, where is Y/N’s new room?” Steve questions walking to the elevators. 

“She’s on the twenty-fifth floor.” The AI responds, he switches to the other elevator. 

“Captain, you will have to go to the ground floor to switch elevators.” FRIDAY informs him. 

Steve sighs moving back in front of the original elevator. It stops at every single floor; he almost misses the elevator as you’re getting on, luckily a Stark Industries employee holds the door for him. 

You bite the inside of your cheek. Looking away. 

“I want to talk.” He says over the all too silent but crowded elevator. 

Everyone looks at him except you. They follow his gaze to you. 

“I don’t.” You answer while staring at the numbers. 

“Poppet.” He says and you shoot him a glare before looking away again. 

People trickle in and out. 

Steve’s gaze is trained upon you. He nods politely at those greeting him but his gaze nerver strays from you. 

You look into your phone pulling up a forgotten game loaded into the device. Anything. Any stupid thing to avoid him. 

Finally it's just the two of you. 

The automated air freshener hisses filling the space with the scent of lavender. 

“Poppet I just want to explain—,” Steve steps closer, his hand outstretched. 

“No. I don’t fucking want to hear a word.” You seethe, you move forward pressing the button to your floor if it makes you reach quicker. 

“Poppet.” He grabs your hand, turning you towards him. 

“Y/N. Use my damn name.” You spit out, finally meeting his eyes. 

There is a tick in his jaw, he nods, “Y/N. Just five minutes. I know I don’t deserve it—,”

“You don’t deserve to even ask for a minute of my time. You never saw us work beyond that month correct? Well guess what? We don’t.” You push at his chest, he doesn’t budge. 

“I lied. I said those things so you wouldn’t follow. I could not have you living rogue with me.” Steve admits, you stare at him. 

“You lied?” You repeat. 

“I didn’t want to break things off but that was the only way I could ensure you wouldn’t follow behind me. It was dangerous. Poppet—Y/N,” he corrects, “I told you your heart kept me alive, I love you—,” 

Steve’s head snaps to the side, cheek turning red at the impact of your slap. You breathe hard, eyes tearing up. 

“That was not for you to fucking decide, you do not get to come back here and make your sorry excuses for being a horrible human being. Betraying my trust. Leaving me and your friend injured. You picked Bucky over us. You picked Bucky over me and I understand I would pick him too if I were you. But I would not fucking lie or leave my girlfriend and best friend behind injured horribly. You’re welcome back to the compound Steve. Even back to your glorious Captain America title. However,” 

The doors open to your floor, you step out. 

“I don’t know how you say you’re alive because I took my fucking heart back from your undeserving self. I don’t care if you lied, I don’t care if it was all fun and games. I don't care about you. I don’t want to care about you. You are a teammate because I am forced to consider you one. I don’t need to listen to you to provide you closure or a second chance. You fucking liar!” 

“Poppet,” Steve reaches for you again, you take off running to your door. 

“FRIDAY, deny access. Override only with Tony.” You order, the locks on your doors bolt and Steve keeps knocking and pleading. 

He sinks to his knees outside your door apologising over and over. 

Natasha is pinned to the floor by Wanda as the latter grins triumphantly. Natasha praises her and they break apart. You take Wanda’s place and Sam takes Natasha’s place. 

Mixed training was now mandatory. 

You had almost burned Nick Fury with your glare. Steve hadn’t shown up to any, in fact he hardly was in the same room as you. 

Sam goes full offence, you block the blows. Defending yourself you had worked hard over the time away from official duties. 

Minutes pass by, neither of you yields. Panting you stare at Sam waiting for an opening to take him down. 

“Come on, that's all you got, little spy?” Sam teases, you laugh. 

“You wish birdy.” You stick your tongue out childishly. Wanda and Nat laugh. 

“Come on Wilson.” Nat prompts, “We’re bored here.” 

“Alright,” Sam moves, pulling a fake. You catch it a moment too late, as he’s about to tackle you to the ground you turn. Tugging on his arm as Sam’s eyes widen. 

The momentum thrown off both of you land on your sides, recovering swiftly he’s pinned to the ground by you. 

You grin at him. 

“How's that birdy?” You laugh at his irritation. Sam rolls his eyes. 

“Y/N.” 

Everyone’s heads snap to the door, Steve and Tony stand there. 

You help Sam up. Sam keeps an arm around your shoulder. Steve’s eyes linger and his fists clench. 

Sam takes his arm away. 

You roll your eyes, they land on Tony as he bites his cheek, oh this can’t be good you deem. 

“Wheels up in an hour for Rogers and you.” He delivers the news. 

“Sam, Nat, Vis and Wanda are needed to take on a bigger base with Tony.” Steve looks at you, “Fury’s orders before you try to whine your way out if it.” 

You glare at him, “Alright.” 

An hour later you’re on the jet with Steve. He doesn’t talk. The last conversation between the two of you was enough. 

“We won’t be splitting up.” Steve informs you. You nod, studying the layout. 

You frown in recognition. 

“I was here on recon. This is supposed to be a dead base.” You look up at him. 

“Fury said they detected activity.” He looks back ahead. 

“Hopefully it's just random people looking for shelter.” You look back at the plans. 

Steve hums, observing you again. Wishing it would be like before where the two of you would be holding hands. 

Cobwebs litter the walls, plaster cracked. The scent of something decaying permeates through the space. 

Walking into the HYDRA base is carefully crafted, Steve leads with his shield. You keep a double check on the back trail. Something was not sitting right with you. 

The hallway diverges, you stand next to Steve, “Left side first then we can go right.” You whisper. 

He nods, “Stay close, I don’t know why something feels wrong.”

You don’t verbalise your own feelings, following in his footsteps. 

The hallway leads to an abandoned lab, the computers torn down and broken apart. Steve relaxes his defensive stance looking around the area. 

You move carefully through the edge of the room, “Something should be of value here.” 

“I don’t think there is anything.” Steve declares, “Let's clear the other pathway.”

You give another once over and then follow him back down the path. 

Your boot catches on the uneven flooring, “Shit!” You whisper yell as you fall forward. 

Steve turns, breaking your fall. You land against his chest and his arm encircles your waist. For a moment that echoes a broken promise of eternity he holds you close to him. 

Steve sneaks a moment he lost over a stupid decision. He takes what crumbs he’s given by fate. 

Your palm is against his chest, your head tucked against the crook of his neck. 

Why can't you move away?

Why do you want more of him? 

Why do you miss him? 

He hurt you. 

He lied. 

He hurt you. 

You break the eternity Steve was living as you pull away, silence stretches between the two of you as you head down the other hallway. 

It's empty yet again, you shake your head at the waste of time. Steve steps closer to the vials on the shelf. The liquid in them gleams a certain way. 

You hear a pneumatic hiss from your left. You turn quietly making your way to the wall. 

Steve studies the shelf again. There was no dust on it. No pattern on it. These were fresh vials. Then his eyes widened, “Y/N don’t!” 

You turn to face him when the hiss is louder and the slits of the vent open. A dust like substance pours over floating around you. 

A coughing fit grips you, you place your hand against the wall to steady yourself the gun falls as you clutch your chest wheezing. 

Steve pads over to you, trying to rub your back to ease the coughing fit. He asks FRIDAY to scan the micro dust to see if it is anything dangerous. 

The coughing fit subsides over a few minutes, your breathing shallow. You look up at Steve blinking away the tears. He cups your cheek.

“Are you okay? Do you feel anything?” He questions, gaze running over every aspect of you. Glove clad large palms moving over your form. You nod, but then your stomach cramps. 

“What is it?” Steve takes not of your discomfort. 

“I, it's my stomach—,” Your words are cut off by a whimper as the cramp gains severity. You lean more against the wall as the cramp travels across. 

Steve rummages through his mind to know what this substance could be, he had been to HYDRA bases before. He spoke to Bucky all about them, their experiments which he knew. 

He watches as your skin flushes, you squirm in his grasp. He steps closer to support you. 

“Poppet?” Steve makes you look up at him, your eyes have a dazed look almost glazed over. You feel his warmth through your tactical suit. His thigh between your legs and the ache the needy ache is all you know and you need to get rid of it. 

“Please,” You plead to him gazing at his slightly blurred blue eyes, your hips moving out of their own accord against his thigh you moan as your core makes contact with him. 

Steve pushes your hips away, “Poppet what—,” 

“Steve, it hurts so badly. Please,” You cry out wiggling against his hold. His fingers dig into your hips to keep you in place. 

Your palms cover his, you look up at him. 

You lean up, he shifts back. You use the distraction to guide his palm to grind down on it. Your choked moan has his cock harden further. He can’t help but watch as you use him. 

Logic hits him then when he feels just how wet you’ve gotten, before he can pull away there is a prick in the side of his neck. You begin to blur from his view. 

“Poppet, something is wrong.” 

You look up at him, why did his words sound garbled? 

Why was he falling to his knees? 

You look behind him, people standing and watching. 

The need clouding your mind clears in the slightest, “Steve,” you kneel next to him. 

“It’s okay,” he assures you, reaching for the shield. 

The cramp hits you again harder; you cry out in pain, doubling over and sinking against the wall to curl up. 

“FRIDAY, dis-distress signal.” Steve orders as his vision begins to blacken, he reaches for you with the last of his strength covering your curled up form with his body. 

Steve keeps his eyes closed. 

Enhanced hearing picking up the dripping pipes from the left. To his right he hears your pained whimpers. 

How long was he out?

Chains bind his arms above him, the uneven concrete digs into his knees and shins. He would search for the shield in the aftermath. 

He counts four people by their rhythmic footfall. They were in the same facility. It couldn’t have been easy to move them. 

Lolling his head to right he watches you through hooded eyes, chained like him kept on your knees but you’re struggling. Squirming on the ground trying to find respite and crying out of frustration. 

“Sex pollen.” Bucky spoke, with a shake of his head in disgust.

“Sex pollen?” Steve repeated as if to confirm. 

Bucky gives him a look, Steve’s eyebrows shot up higher. 

“What does that do? Did they use it on you?” Steve questioned his best friend. 

Bucky shook his head, “It basically sets the libido up to the maximum, forces the person in contact to orgasm but basically they need to have sex, self pleasure seldom works. The intensity is higher to combat the inevitable effect.” 

A dark expression crossed Bucky’s features, he sighed sadly. Looking out at the view from his home in Wakanda. The house, though borrowed, was Bucky’s own. 

Steve had placed a few sketches of Brooklyn around. The place he used to consider home now changed. Steve stares at the more recent sketch of his home city. 

Two men out of time in a place decades ahead of the world outside. 

“How long?” Steve clutches his charcoal tighter as he forms the curve of soft lips on the paper. A stray tendril of hair. 

Bucky looks down at the half done sketch of your face. His heart aches for Steve and you. 

“Two hours, it gets progressively maddening. At first one can try to speak or answer what is asked. After that it is variable how long it takes for the need to become the sole focus. If nothing is done in two hours then its too far gone and well...” 

He had limited time, he could not gamble any further. Steve opens his eyes, tugging at the restraints to catch the attention of the captors. 

You hear the rattling, you look up at Steve another pang through your core. 

“Steve—,” 

“Ah, Captain. Welcome to the land of the waking, you were out for just under an hour. Now who is this sweet little needy thing with you?” The man asks, stepping closer to you. 

Steve growls, “Stay away from her.” he warns. 

The man raises his hands in defence, “She’s a little needy Captain,” he walks back toward Steve away from you, “Why so possessive?” 

Steve bites his tongue, “She’s mine.” he grits out. 

“I see and why is she yours?” 

He can’t tell them, they would exploit you but his will is crumbling swiftly and his mind is compelling him to speak, “I love her.” 

“Hm, it seems she needs you, Captain.” The man grins, walking back to you. His palm touches your scalp as he pulls your hair back. You want to recoil but the touch is soothing some of the ache. You look at Steve, pleading.  

“I could fill in.” He says suggestively.

You try to shuffle away but the grip on your hair tightens. 

“Don’t you fucking dare touch her!” Steve bellows as his thumb approaches your lips, “What the fuck do you want?” He pulls against the restraints, almost snarling. 

“I want to know where my Soldat is, tell me.” The man demands, leaving you. The words register as does the scent of cigarettes you recoil. You feel your mind working again, clearing the need to be fucked. 

“Steve don’t,” you warn him, he couldn’t sell out Bucky whatever this was, it wasn't worth ruining his life again, “I’ll deal with this…” you bite back the pained whimper. 

Steve stares at you, eyes wide and with an emotion you can’t place. 

“Oh but you know what is wrong with her don’t you Captain?” The man demands and you look to Steve, “Tell her the truth that burns your veins, Captain.” 

Steve wants to lie, wants to cushion you, “Truth serum?” He looks at the man who nods.

“Brilliant isn’t it? You’re compelled to tell me whether or not she chooses to be saved. You’re on a time limit.” The man taps his watch. 

“It’s a sex pollen.” Steve informs you, you stare at him. 

“That, that's why I need?” Your insides churn and your clit pulses as you watch Steve lick his dry lips before he continues to speak. The small insignificant action has your body wanting to be devoured. 

“Yes, and if you don’t get release, it’s fatal.” 

Silence stretches on the footfall of the three others has stopped, they watch the show play out. The consequences and the outcomes weighed. 

“Fight it, don’t tell them. It's not worth it.” You whisper. 

“Poppet you cannot say that. I am not risking your life!” Steve yells, pulling at the restraints again. 

“You can’t have him at risk again!” 

“I won’t let you die!” 

“You already left me for the dead once! You chose him once. Just fucking do it again!” You seethe, your skin clammy and you just want this suit gone. The material irritates you. 

Steve gapes at you, “I, I didn’t—,”

“Save it.” 

“As much as I enjoy a lover’s quarrel. Where is Soldat?” The man interrupts. 

“Gone.” Steve answers, “Poppet, please,” 

“Don’t fucking tell them!” You demand, “Consider it my last wish! Fight the damn truth serum.” 

“You are not dying.” Steve grits out. 

“Where is he, where is Bucky Barnes?” The man lands a punch to Steve’s face. His hair falls forward, slowly Steve looks up at the man. Rage colouring all his features. 

“I will let you help her. Just tell me where Bucky is, Captain.” The man promises. Steve considers, you begin to yell no at him. 

“He’s in the United Kingdom.” 

“Are you insane?!” You slump to the ground, “Do you have any fucking idea what have you done?” 

The man walks over and slaps you, “Shut the fuck up! You want a cock so fucking bad you fucking bitch in heat, I’ll give you one!” 

Steve snarls, wrapping the chain around his own palm and tugging hard until it breaks away from the wall. The man turns, gun cocked and ready, it's grabbed out of his hand by Steve. He looks at the man dead in his eyes before delivering the fatal shot.

You look up at Steve, as the man drops to the floor between the two of you. 

Steve watches the other three scramble about, he quickly fires the shots, he keeps one person alive. 

He grabs the other chain, yanking it with all his strength. It gives way. 

“Where is the shield?” He walks over to the man on the ground, pleading in pain. 

A shaking hand rises, pointing to the vault. 

“Access code?” Steve picks him up and takes him to the keypad. 

The man enters it crying when Steve presses on the open wound, “Don’t fucking pull any stunts.” 

You watch as the doors part and the shield stays there as a momento. 

You blink when everything goes out of focus. You blink again. Heat spreads over your body goosebumps raise across. 

Your thighs clench and you squirm trying to get some friction to release the ache. Tugging at the restraints is maddening. They don’t relent when you try to manoeuvre but no position provides any respite and you sob out as the frustration grows. 

“Poppet.” A warm voice calls out, you whimper. The hold on your right arm loosens and your hand reaches for the tactical suit. You had to get it off. You needed to get it off. 

You blink and watch as Steve’s hand stops yours, you push at him. 

“Please,” you whimper as another cramp takes over. 

“You smell so sweet baby.” He groans, the sound urges you on, you guide his hand to where you need him. 

His warm palm cups you the fabric of your suit soaked Steve hears your sigh of relief. 

“Going to take care of you Poppet, but you need to hold on for me okay?” Steve assures, breaking out your left arm as well. 

“Steve please,” you beg again, your mind screaming at your body, your hips move making you grind onto his palm. Your smaller palm wrapped around his wrist not letting him pull away. 

“Fuck,” He groans, pushing you against the corner and undoing your suit’s zipper, you don’t face him palms braced against the wall. Steve’s warm calloused palm is as though cold respite to your heated skin. 

He doesn’t waste time, fingers running over your folds, palm pressing against your clit. Your head tilts back resting against his shoulder, mouth parted moans leaving you. 

Steve presses his fingers into you, two thick digits and your walls clench around him he almost wishes he’d fuck you right there. 

“Fuck this pussy remembers who she belongs to doesn’t she?” Fingers curve finding the spot he very well could have placed. Stars line your vision as he hits the spot over and over, fingers curving.

“Right there Steve!” You cry out your ass rocking against him, pressing onto his cock. He keeps his thrusts hard and fast, palm rubbing your clit in the most delicious of ways. His grunts fill your senses.

Pleasure thrums from his touch to your body, your back arching as his fingers drive deeper and deeper into you. Your walls are gripping them back in not wanting him to stop. 

“I know sweet Poppet. I know what makes her weep for me. I’m going to taste you. But first you’re going to make a mess on my hand alright?” He instructs filthy words offset by the sweet kisses placed against your forehead and cheek. 

His other hand cups your breast playing with your nipple. Your hands fall from the wall, gripping onto his nails leaving indents on his skin. Steve watches your chest constrict, your voice choke off, eyes rolling back as your orgasm crashes into you. 

His fingers keep moving, riding your orgasm out, your walls quivering around him the sensitivity of your clit as it pulses. Some of the haze clears but the need just returns tenfold.

“Steve, please, I can’t, can’t wait—,” 

His lips are on yours, cutting you off, your suit pushed down further without breaking away from the kiss.

The shield clatters to the floor, his suit haphazardly discarded. Steve’s hands explore your body, remembering the planes he explored before. The love he whispered across your skin. Marking you with his touch, his lips, his seed.

“Wanna see you,” You want to turn, he grabs your hands pinning them to the wall. 

“No one gets to see you this way but me.” He growls, you feel his hard cock move between your thighs. His larger body covers yours, shielding you, watching over you. 

When your thighs clench around him,  Steve hisses, “Going to fill you up, sweet girl.” he coos. 

Inch by inch Steve’s length stretches you, your back arches. The relief the stretch of his cock brings is unlike anything else you’ve felt before. 

“You can take it, made for my cock aren't you?” He stills inside you, throbbing as your walls clench around him. He moans biting down on your shoulder the feel of you decadent, unable to be given justice by his mind.

“Heaven. Pussy feels so good, baby. Missed you so much.” He grunts, you push back against him needing him to move, “hands around my neck.” He orders, leaving your hands.

You wrap them around him, holding onto his now longer hair, soft between your fingers. Your mind remains you of the soft moments when he laid in your lap and your fingers combed through these locks.

Steve pulls you out of your thoughts with the snap of his hips. His palms gripping your waist anchoring you to him. Skin slapping against skin, his cock feels so good you could sob, the need turns into embers, your thirst being quenched. 

Each delicious, deep stroke moves you towards sweet bliss. You hear your name in an echo of his name. Steve watches the wall you mould against him, as countless times before. Your heart may have put up walls but your body left no space.

The way he sees the telltale signs of your orgasm he brings his right hand towards your apex, timing his rough circles on your clit to his thrusts. The sensations blooming become too much, your body alit with flames of pleasure, Steve moans as your walls begin to milk him just as your orgasm shatters through you.

He keeps his thrusts going, pumping into you. The arousal that spills onto your thighs, the mix of you and him. 

“One more.” He demands, fingers coated with the mix of the two of you, his marked fingers brought back to your clit, you cry out in ecstasy. 

The blissful haze clears, everything returning to you. The mission, the power, you can’t, you can’t, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve–,

“Right here my sweet poppet, you will give me one more. You know I'm greedy.” He reasons, only increasing his pace, you thrash in his hold. Lips find the sweet spot of your neck.

It’s your undoing, you cum around him yet again. Crying out his name, tugging on his hair. Aftershocks moving through you. He holds you up, pressing kisses to your forehead, temple, cheek, jaw and shoulders. 

Grounding you, palms moving over you after he brings his coated fingers to taste them. Your head lols against his shoulder, you reach for his jaw, placing a soft kiss. Steve smiles at the familiar gesture. 

Helping you get dressed he follows as well. You’re lifted into his arms and carried to the quinjet.

As it had turned out Bucky wasn’t in UK it was a precautionary measure they came up with to secure Bucky from any life threatening attempts. The guilt you had harboured lessened.

Steve had stayed away from you, once Tony and Bruce cleared you of any remnant pollen he took his leave. Avoiding you as he had after the elevator confrontation. It left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

As much as you felt as if you were an emotional fool for considering the thought of wanting to approach him, you missed him. Terribly. 

You knew your walls were useless against the one man who you had given your jagged heart to, the blue eyes you had drowned yourself in multiple times. Whether it was when he found your gaze across the room or when you were pressed against him.

Your feet carried you after three days to his door. Your hand shook when you knocked. Thoughts swirling through your mind insecurities gaining fleet. 

The door opens, Steve’s eyes widen then his brows furrowed with worry, then fall to the still fading love bite that  he placed on your collarbone. You shift your weight to either side. Hands fiddling with the hem of your top.

You look down at your feet, Steve’s palm cups your cheek. 

Your eyes meet their old home of blue.

“I want to listen.” You manage to say, his pink lips stretch into a familiar smile.

He steps to the side inviting you further into his room.

-x-x-x-x-

[vanishingcherry]

A WHOLE NEW WORLD

pairings: f1 grid x leclerc!driver reader, charles leclerc x sister!reader

warnings: sexism, hugging, talk about the possibility of a car crash, 2021 f1 grid

authors note: i was thinking of making this a series, so let me know if thats something you would be interested in! (like leclerc driver in different situations throughout the seasons after her debut in 2021)

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

Sitting on a flight to Bahrain, it would be an understatement to say that Y/N was nervous. She sat next to her brother, Charles, with Arthur sitting across from her, fast asleep against the headrest of the plane seat.

Charles was going into his 4th season in Formula 1, his third with Ferrari. Y/N, however, was going into her first, following her older brother's footsteps as she started out her rookie season with Sauber, or Alfa Romeo as it was now called.

Looking out the window, she watched in amazement as the city lights sparkled in the night. She had been to Bahrain before, during her time in F3 and F2 with Prema, but landing as a Formula 1 driver was a different feeling altogether.

Y/N was confident in the car. 3 days of preseason testing allowed her to get accustomed to all the differences from the F2 cars. While it definitely wasn't at the level of Mercedes, Ferrari or Red Bull, she was sure that she would be able to get at least a few points over the course of the season.

She was also extremely lucky to be paired with Kimi for her rookie season. The seasoned driver was known to be extremely less talkative, but she was sure she would pick up a few tips by just being in his presence. They had even had a short conversation during the pre-season testing during which Kimi told her that he was glad to have her as a teammate. Y/N never really realised just how much that statement meant to her until now, easing some of the nerves.

After landing, she and Charles walk through customs and head outside together, Arthur and Lorenzo following not too far behind. Immediately met by thousands of fans, she watches an unfazed Charles make his way towards them, smiling and signing posters and caps. She watches in awe for a second before a voice calling her name catches Y/N's attention.

"Y/N! Can you sign my cap please!"

She looks over to see a young girl amongst the crown and makes her way to the barrier. Kneeling over, she grabs the pen and signs the cap with a big smile.

"Are you going to watch the race?" Y/N smile turns even bigger when the girl nods.

"We've got seats at turn 3. I hope you get points! I love you!"

She laughs at the response, giving the girl a quick hug before making her way down the fans lined up.

There were dozens of people there, waving flags and notebooks for her to sign. Others just wanted a quick hug or a picture, which Y/N quickly obliged to. While she couldn't interact with everybody there, she made sure to as many people as possible.

Almost all of them were shouting words of encouragement and support, compliments hitting her from all sides. Surprised by how many people wanted her to sign things and take pictures, it was almost half an hour later when she finally sat down in the car, slumping against the seat as it made its way to the hotel. Her hand hurting from the number of autographs she had given out.

"There were so many people who wanted me to sign stuff" She said to Charles. "I didn't think there would be that many. All the girls were so excited."

"You're the first female driver Y/N, of course they were excited. I'm so proud of you, everyone is." Charles smiles as he replies, knowing just how hard it was to make it to F1, even more so as a girl. "Papa and Jules would be so, so happy."

"Thats P12 Y/N! Great job!"

The engineer's voice comes through the radio, conveying to Y/N her qualifying results.

"Oh my god! 12th is crazy, thank you! Where did Charles place? And Kimi?" Happy that Charles qualified 4th she celebrated, although she was slightly confused as to how she qualified ahead of Kimi who was 14th.

"There was an issue with his car." Her engineer explains, before telling her to switch off the engine and prepare for strategy discussion.

Y/N was just a few tenths off from making Q3 in her debut. Nonetheless, P12 was an amazing standing for the start of the race, and she was overjoyed at the prospect of getting points at her first ever F1 race.

As she makes her way to the driver rooms, Charles catches up to her, giving her a quick hug. "Xavi told me you qualified 12th! Congratulations! Get points tomorrow okay?"

She nods in response, congratulating him for qualifying P4 before once again making her way to the driver's room. She received many pats on the back on her way there, some from drivers and others from reporters and general people around the paddock.

Walking into the motorhome, Kimi is quick to congratulate her. Y/N expresses her sympathy for his qualifying position, but Kimi is quick to brush it aside. Having been in the sport this long, he knew that a bad qualifying doesn't mean a bad race.

After the discussions with the team for the next day's strategy had been closed, Y/N heads out, wanting to get a good nights rest before her first race.

The only goal for the next day was to race well and hopefully get a few points. Y/N knew that Alfa Romeo was feeling the pressure just as much as she was, being the team that signed the first female driver. All she wanted was to learn as much as possible while proving herself to the world.

"Just learn", is what the team principle had said not an hour ago. "Learn as much as you can, enjoy, and try not to crash the car."

Just as the rookie opens the taxi door, a voice calling out her name makes her turn around. At the sight of Sebastian, she pulls out her earphones.

The driver had just made the switch to Aston Martin, being Charles's teammate the year before. "I heard you qualified 12th! Thats amazing!"

Shyly she laughs. "Yeah, thank you so much!"

"Is anyone giving you a hard time?" he asks, fully prepared to defend Y/N. Sebastian had been an advocate for women in this sport for a long time, and was truly delighted that the step had finally be taken. Truth be told, he was honoured that he would be getting the opportunity to race against Y/N, even though she would insist it was the other way round.

"Not really," she replies. "Just a few fans on social media and stuff, saying it's a 'mans' sport."

"Ah, I think Hanna showed me a few of those posts." Sebastian mutters, thinking back to a weekend ago when his wife showed him the latest news, courtesy to the driver not having any social media accounts of his own. "Ignore them, we all know that you're amazing and believe me, you absolutely deserve to be here."

The 4 time world champion was speaking from experience. He had kept an eye on her the previous year. Although they hadn't talked much, other than when she was in the garage to visit Charles, Sebastian was ecstatic when he heard that the young girl had won the F2 Championship.

"I bet you'll get points tomorrow, you're just that good."

"Ah thanks Seb!" Y/N is close to blushing at that comment, overwhelmed with the number of compliments she had been receiving over the course of the day.

After another few moments of chatting, Sebastian walks away to his own car, leaving Y/N to get in hers and get back to the hotel. Popping her earphones back in, she relaxes against the seat, ready for what the race would bring.

"It's lights out and away we go for the first time in the 2021 season!"

The voice of David Croft is heard all around the world, thousands having tuned in to watch the start of the new season. Y/N gets a good start, overtaking Perez and moving up to P11 by turn 1.

Ahead of her now was Stroll in the Aston Martin. Staying close to him for the next few laps, she manages to overtake him on the straight when DRS opens.

"You're in the points! Push!" Her engineers voice comes through. Behind him the team was watching the screen in suspense, hoping that she would be able to keep the position. They jumped out of their seats nearly every time she got close to another car, worried out of their mind for the driver but excited nonetheless.

Choosing to stay out on track for an extra few laps earns her another two positions as most drivers go in for their pitstop, putting her at P8. Y/N manages to defend her position for majority of the race, keeping the Aston Martins and Red Bull behind her.

Towards the second half of the race, Y/N went in for her pitstop, unfortunately losing a spot in the process. Still, just 13 laps later, Y/N crossed the finish line in P9, having gotten 2 points for the driver standings and the team.

"Thats P9! P9 Y/N! Amazing, amazing job!"

Body in shock, she thanks the team and engineers profusely, jumping out of the car the second she parked it.

"Y/N Leclerc crosses the line in P9, an absolutely stellar performance. The first points scored from a woman in decades, and that too in her first race. I'm sure we can expect nothing short of brilliance from her in the future." Martin Brundle's voice can be heard by all watching.

Still in awe at the moment, all Y/N can think about is the fact that she got points. You did it, you did it, you did it. She runs into the barriers, giving a hug to everyone from Alfa Romeo standing there.

Behind her, Charles comes in for a hug, having heard from his engineer that Y/N placed 9th. "Je t'aime, je suis si fier" i love you, i am so proud

The next few minutes were a blur. Waving to the fans, Y/N can hear them cheer in the background as more and more people come up to her. Lewis pats her helmet on his way to the podium, Max and Valtteri doing the same. Sebastian walks by and offers a hug, widely grinning as he winks and says a quick "Told you so."

It was an out of the world experience. While not everyone may see the importance, everyone on the grid knew exactly how she was feeling. Having worked your entire life to reach F1, the feeling after getting your first points is one that no one would ever forget. One that Y/N would never forget.

"So Y/N, how does it feel having won points in your debut race?" The reporter asks when she enter the media pen. Replays of her crossing the checkered flag in P9 can be seen playing on the television in the background.

"There was a lot of pressure on me to perform well, being the first signed female driver and of course Charles being in Ferrari. People expected a lot. So, I am extremely happy that I was able to deliver."

Her response is short and sweet, as directed by the PR manager, but true nonetheless. There was a lot of controversy when Sauber announced that she would be joining F1 that year, with people on both sides of the spectrum making statements. It meant heaps to her, knowing that she had already started proving the haters wrong.

Toto and Susie Wolff were in support, both mentioning how important it was for more females to enter the sport. The Mercedes Principle having mentioned how "proud" he was, and how her presence would likely "encourage more girls from around the world to enter motorsport."

Susie being having participated in motorsport herself had reached out to Y/N when the news broke, sending her congrats and sharing her enthusiasm. Y/N and her still stay in contact, having just replied to another congratulatory message from Susie before coming out to give interviews.

On the other hand, there were also people who were doubtful of her. "She's entering a sport that has been predominantly male for over 7 decades. The way I see it, I'm not sure she'll be able to handle the needs of this sport. It's a tough sport, and there must be a reason females have never lasted long before." The statement that Red Bull released via their team principle was nothing short of enraging for Y/N, but she knew that she would have to stay calm and prove them wrong on track.

Nonetheless, Y/N knew that she had the support of all the drivers on the grid, all of them having talked to her and shown support during the pre-season testing. It meant a lot to her knowing that world champions like Lewis, Alonso and Sebastian were all rooting for her.

"And how did Charles react to you coming P9?"

"He was very happy," she exclaimed. "A bit jealous I think, because he didn't get points in his debut." Y/N adds, softly chuckling before moving on to the next reporter.

The rest of the media session went well, all the reporters being respectful and truly happy for Y/N. Finally, once the day was over, she went back to the hotel, ready for a night of relaxation.

Not too long after settling down on the couch, she heard a knock and the door handle turning. Charles walks in.

Falling back onto the couch next to her, he says. "The reporter told me what you said to her."

Frowning in response, Y/N pauses the movie. He elaborates. "About me being jealous? Because I didn't get points in my debut?" He gently elbows her in the rib and she laughs in response.

"But its true, no?

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

[captainfern]

in the spirit of halloween can you please write price fucking his civilian wife so hard that the boys think the barracks are haunted like price sneaking his wife into the barracks so the others don’t know shes there and they fuck and she’s moaning and the boys have no idea who or what is it

LMAO

super short sorry, 18+, use of "wife" "love" and "sweetheart" but no other gendered language/specific genitalia are used

no because this is so funny to me and i can guarantee that both gaz and soap would wake up in the middle of the night and be like "?????"

ghost knows what's up. he doesn't even mention it to his captain in the morning

but soap and gaz are genuinely worried

gaz: "cap, this base is fucking haunted, i swear" and soap would be nodding rapidly while price just shakes his head in disbelief

i mean, you can't blame them. you, the captain's wife, are loud. of course. but how could you not be when it's price fucking you? bending you over his desk with his hands on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock and hitting that spot inside you over and over, having you see stars behind your eyelids. or, spreading you across his desk with your legs open while he eats you out, eyes locked. you can't help the noise you make !

price will purposely try and get as much noise out of you too. he knows what angle to thrust into you to nail that good spot inside you every time. he knows where you like his tongue, his fingers, and he knows how to turn your whimpers into sobs of pleasure. he knows exactly what to say to you to have you wailing too.

"yeah? you like that? s'that feel good? mhm, that's it, let me hear those pretty noises. i wanna hear you, sweetheart. i wanna hear how good i make you feel... wanna hear how good this cock feels inside you, hm? that's it, let it out for me, love."

and it'll take a while for gaz and soap to realise that base isn't actually haunted

[thetriumphantpanda]

you got all my love | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Well, it was always going to happen, wasn't it? No-one had banked on a connection that ran this deep though.

Warnings | No smut, only softness. A little angst. Talk of pregnancy. Alcohol consumption. Smut will return in full force in the final two parts.

Word Count | 1.7K

Authors Note | Okay, so here it is! Everything we've been working towards so far. There's no smut here, just some softness, but I promise there are two more parts and this little threesome is far from over! If you're enjoying this so far, then please consider leaving comments, reblogging or popping into my ask box with some love - I have really enjoyed interacting with you all over this! And, if you'd like to leave a tip (As always, no pressure what-so-ever) then you can do so here on Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You have to rub your eyes until they sting to make sure you’re not seeing things. Then you have to do another one just to be sure. Then, just in case, another one just for luck, but all three show the same thing. Two pink lines. Those two fucking pink lines you had been praying for all along, on every single test. You’re pregnant. You’re finally fucking pregnant. 

You gather all three tests in your hands once you’ve put the cap back on the bit you’ve peed on, before you bound down the stairs. It’s early in the morning and Tommy is stood at the coffee maker, waiting for enough liquid to filter to fill his mug. He turns around at the commotion of you almost falling into the table after forgetting to step on the final step. You’re breathless. 

“What on earth is the matter, sugar?” He asks, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

You hold up the three tests, but realise he can’t see anything with the grip you’ve got them held in. You take the strides to close the distance between you, setting them down on the counter next to the coffee machine. You watch, with a grin on your face as he picks one up, slamming it straight back down onto the counter when he sees the lines. 

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” He breathes, turning to you, “You’re?” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I’m pregnant.” 

His arms are crushing around you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. It finally worked. You’d finally been given everything you’d ever wanted. You pull back enough to fuse your lips with Tommy’s, before you pull away and realise you’re both crying. 

“You’re gonna be a dad, Tommy.” You grin, pressing your lips all over his face, wherever you can reach. 

“And you’re gonna be a mama, baby.” He speaks softly, setting your feet back on the ground, “Don’t know how I’m supposed to go to work now, I wanna tell everyone.” 

You grin and cup his cheek, “I know baby, me too,” You look down at your feet before meeting his eye again, “There is someone we need to tell though.” 

Joel is as welcoming as ever when you turn up that evening. He’s shouting up the stairs for Sarah to come and say hello, which she does, giving you both a hug before apologizing, glaring at her father, and informing you both that it’s already past her bedtime and she needs to brush her teeth. 

“You want a drink?” Joel asks Tommy, who agrees to a glass of whiskey, “What about you, darlin’?” 

“No, thank you, I’ll be driving back.” You smile, feeling around in the back pocket of your jeans for the lone test you’d brought with you, keeping it a secret to yourself for now. 

Joel makes you a cup of tea and you sit around and chat for a while. Tommy filling him in on how things had been on site that morning, Joel talking about how he’d been to Sarah’s parent’s evening and how proud he was that she was doing so well. There was some off-hand comment that you frowned at, something about her inheriting the brains from her mother because they certainly hadn’t come from him, but it had been a nice conversation otherwise. 

When there is a lull in the conversation, Tommy reaches across the table to take hold of your hand, sitting forward in his chair, “We have something to tell you.” He smiles at Joel. 

You look to Tommy, reaching into your back pocket to fish the pregnancy test out before you slide it over the table to Joel. You watch as he picks it up, bringing it close enough to his face so he can see those two pink lines. Then he’s slamming it down on the table with a grin, all three of you standing in unison. 

It’s you he comes to first. He wraps those big, strong arms around your waist and pulls you into a hug. You wrap your own around his neck and giggle as he congratulates you, right into your ear. Then, he sets you down, a chaste kiss to your cheek, before he moves onto Tommy. 

It’s a scene that makes you want to cry. Tommy stretches out his hand as if he wanted Joel to shake it, but instead, he pulls Tommy into the biggest hug you’ve ever seen the brothers give each other. They’re slapping each other’s backs, pulling apart just enough to grin at each other, before they embraced again. 

When Joel finally does let Tommy go, Tommy comes straight to your side, pulling you into him as Joel leans against his kitchen counter. 

“Listen, I don’t want to make this a huge thing,” Tommy starts, rubbing the back of his neck with that nervous energy you remember he had when he first suggested this, “But thank you, for everything, for giving us everything, I know you and I know you don’t want anything as thanks, but just know how grateful we are for this brother.” 

He shakes his head with a little smile, “I told you, anythin’ for family.” And with a shrug, that’s pretty much it. Tommy gives him another hug before he’s turning to you. 

“I’ll let you two have a minute alone,” Tommy smiles, giving your hand a squeeze, fishing the car keys out of his pocket, “I’ll see you outside.” 

Joel is leaning against his kitchen counter with an expression you can’t place, so you take a few steps towards him, taking his big hand in your own before you place a kiss to the inside of his palm, trailing your lips in soft kisses up his arm until you reach the crook of his elbow where his flannel sits. Then, you pull that arm around your shoulder, wrapping your own arms around his waist in a hug. 

He's quick to return it, squeezing you into his body, as his other arm comes up to cradle your head to his chest, running along the back of your head as you breathe in his scent. He dips and presses his lips, ever-so-gently, to the crown of your head. 

“Thank you,” You whisper softly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, “I know it’s not much, but I don’t know what else you say.” You admit. 

“Thank you is enough, pretty girl.” 

You squeeze your arms tighter around his waist, you can’t look at him, not yet, not with your eyes filled with tears. You’re not even sure why you’re crying. Sure, you’re happy, over-the-moon, but there’s a sense of loss that sits inside you. It had been fun, what you’d been doing. Thrilling even, and you were always bound to get a little caught up in the way he made you feel when it was happening. Tommy has, and always will be, your number one. You’ve loved him since the moment you met him. But somewhere along the line, his rugged, older brother has stolen a piece of your heart all for himself and you don’t even mind all that much. 

“I don’t want you to think we’re done with you,” You sniffle, trying to hold back the tears, “Just beause you’ve given us this, doesn’t mean we go back to normal; we can’t go back to normal.” 

“I know babygirl,” He sighs, “I’m just happy I was able to make you happy, give you what you wanted,” There’s another kiss to your head now, “Take your time, you’re gonna be a family now, I don’t wanna get in the way of that, but I wanna help okay? You need anythin’, you call me, alright?” 

You pull away and finally look at him, his own eyes glassy just like yours. He feels it too. It was only ever meant to be sex, only ever meant to be a means to an end, but neither of you expected the end to come so soon. Whether you, Joel or Tommy like it, you’re bonded to this man with his arms around your shoulders, and it’s scary. He loves his brother too much to do anything about the sinking feeling in his stomach, but God he wishes he could have you, just once more, just to tattoo what you felt like right onto his brain, onto his very soul, so he could remember you forever. 

“Uncle Joel, right?” A lone tear rolls down your cheek, which Joel brushes away with the pad of his thumb, keeping one hand cupped around your cheek. 

“Uncle Joel,” He nods, with a smile on his face, “And you best believe I’ll be the best damn Uncle ever.” 

Your eyes are still glassed over with tears when you push yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him. It’s soft and it only last a few seconds before you pull away. Before you can fully move yourself away though, Joel’s hands are cupping your face, leaning down to kiss you properly. His mouth opens at the same time as yours, and when his tongue is in your mouth, you can taste the whiskey on him. You can feel in this kiss everything you think he wants you to. The fact that he loves you, like he’s said before, as part of his family. The fact that he’s happy he could give you everything you wanted. The fact that he’s sad that he’s managed to do just that, and those moments he’d waited for, had craved all month long were gone now. That it’s okay, too, that he must step back, let you and Tommy figure out how to be parents together. That he’ll always be here, as long as he possibly can be, just in case you need him. 

When you finally pull away from each other, a kiss placed by you on his jaw, you don’t say anything else. You don’t need too. Neither of you do. You just squeeze his hand and leave, joining Tommy in the car. 

He hands you the keys and in no time at all you’re making the short drive to your own home. To your new life. The one Joel had given you, handed to you on a platter. You don’t think you’d ever be able to express to him how truly grateful you are to him. When you pull the car into the driveway and cut the engine, Tommy reaches over to take your hand, squeezing it. 

“Okay?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” You smile, “I’m okay.” 

[earthtooz]

x : SHADE MATCH :*+ﾟ

in which: reo loves your lipstick. even more so when it's on him.

warnings: suggestive towards the end so i am making this a 16+ post, fluff, UNEDITED ASF, 1.3k words, gn!reader, just... me loving reo, reader wears makeup, i am going crazy over him tbh.

a/n: i blacked out writing this tbh. enjoy !! wrote this on a whim 100%

you’re carefully applying your lipstick when a demanding yet familiar figure makes himself known in your peripheral.

glancing over, you catch reo’s eye in the mirror as he leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, subtly adjusting the cartier watch adorned around his wrist. he’s not wearing his blazer jacket yet, and the undone first few buttons of his shirt leaves more to be desired.

you look away before you can fall further in the rabbit hole, puckering your lips a few times before fixing up any stray splashes of colour dotted around your skin. smiling in satisfaction, you cap your lipstick before putting it back with the rest of your cosmetics.

two sculpted arms snake around your waist, and reo’s face finds home next to yours, eye-level with you as he blatantly admires your reflection. 

“stunning as always,” he murmurs, smugness dripping in his tone, and the way his hands squeeze at your hips tell you that he has some less than pure intentions.

“thank you. could say the same about you,” you say in return before breaking eye contact, leaning to grab the necklace you had laid out in preparation for tonight. “keeping your hair down tonight, love?”

reo runs a hand through his locks, letting the fringe fall back in place as he hums in contemplation. “i don’t know, what do you think? what you want me to do is what i’ll choose.”

“you know i love it either way,” you say, “doesn’t change how beautiful you are.”

he beams, your words having an obvious impact on him, but before he could shower you with compliments in kind, you raise your unclasped necklace to him.

“help me out?”

“anything for you,” the purple-haired delicately takes the jewellery from your hands, his heart swelling three times in size when he realises it’s the one he bought for you. in fact, he already noticed that you were wearing the outfit he bought for you, thrilled at how wonderful you looked dressed in his money.

of course, if he said that thought out loud, it would probably be received with a not-so-gentle punch from you. 

he’ll communicate it properly one day but for now, he mutedly admires you, gently brushing his fingers along your neck as he does the clasp for you. after a few moments, reo tells you he’s done by turning you around himself, hands lingering on your hips.

“what are you staring at?” you ask after a while of him simply admiring you, taking his time as if you had all the time in the world. 

well. if that’s what you wanted then reo would make that happen. 

“just the most beautiful masterpiece i’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he replies, hand snaking up to delicately hold your chin, and you realise what he’s trying to do when you see the way his eyes begin to droop before leaning in close.

“no, don’t ki-” you get cut off regardless with the gentle press of reo’s lips against yours, and you falter a little, needing to hold on to the bathroom counter for some semblance of security as the athlete leisurely moulds his lips with yours.

there’s no brain space to dwell over your lipstick when reo is kissing you breathless, pressing you harder against the counter. you pull away with a shiver, pressing a finger to his lips before reo could get ahead of himself and let the kiss heighten in intensity. 

the groan he lets out is an indicator of how unhappy he is with your blocking, but you can only take his pout so seriously when he has your lipstick smeared all over him. you probably look no better and you feel a little scared to turn around and see for yourself.

his breath fans heavily across your lips, eyes gleaming with lust and adoration as he looks down at you. “what was that for?” he complains.

“my lipstick, you ruined it,” you say, “and it’s all on your lips too.”

the athlete smirks, eyes widening in realisation. “is it now?” he asks before leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your cheek. you feel it linger before turning around to look in the mirror, confronted by a clear kiss mark on your skin.

“reo!” you huff, “this is hard to wipe off, you know.” 

“just put concealer over it.”

you could slap him and it’s clear that he sees the intent in your eyes because he ducks away, covering his head with boisterous laughter slipping past his lips, the noise echoing around the marble of the bathroom. “please don’t hit me, i’m sorry!” he laughs, trying to sound sincere to no avail.

at the sound of your sigh, reo loosens up, grinning even wider when he sees the way your face lights up at his antics. he decides that he truly is willing to do anything for you, so long as he gets to see you smile at the end of it.

it’s reckless to think so but then again, falling in love with you hasn’t been anything short of, love filling up his lungs until he needs to pour it all out, only to be filled again with every second he finds himself lost in you. 

“fine. this will be payback,” you mutter, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in, placing a kiss on the open expanse of his chest, right near his collarbone.

reo wonders if you could feel the way his heart rate spiked.

after lingering there for a few seconds, you pull away, satisfied with the mark you left behind. “now we’re even.”

you step away from where he had you against the counter, looking for makeup wipes and your concealer to have the two of you looking perfect again. but when reo looks at himself in the mirror, he is immediately entranced with the mark you left behind. 

reo wonders if it was too ridiculous to want it tattooed.

“here,” you say, pressing the makeup wipes against his chest which reo dumbly catches, mind still faraway even when you order him to clean up. 

without thinking, he obeys, cleaning the makeup off his lips. still dazed, he hadn’t realised that you were already done.

“you forgot a spot,” you point out before the purple-haired can feel a cool cream be spread on his skin- your moisturiser, he realises. after putting lip balm on his lips, you make a move to wipe the lipstick stain off his chest when reo snaps back to reality, stepping away from you. “reo… i need to get that off.”

“no, i think it should stay,” he says, voice laced with fascination. 

“babe, c’mon, don’t be silly, you sh-”

“-i’m not being silly, it’s a very nice, very territorial addition to my outfit.”

you’re horrified at the imagery of reo parading around with your kiss mark on his chest. granted, it wasn’t incredibly bold or out-of-place, and if you were going somewhere a little less formal, you would have inclined to agreed.

“i am going to be seeing your parents tonight.”

“they have an eye for art.”

“reo-”

“listen beautiful, what do i gotta do get you to agree?”

“do the dishes for a month, pay for my emotional reparations, donate a grand to charity, and show me a good time, and only then will i agree.”

“too easy,” he smirks. "hope you're ready for the time of your life then, you know i don't like to go the easy route."

BLLK MASTERLIST © 2023 EARTHTOOZ do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites.

[boba-beom]

me running full speed to your inbox because you said taehyun (it’s me the full time taehyun simp)

fratboy football player taehyun x cheerleader!reader 😁😁😁 (i know he’s more of a soccer guy but BARE W MEEE)

honestly football players txt all of them… sookai ate this up in ways i can’t even describe

good girl cheerleader reader who’s a little ditzy but she’s so sweet n sugary… tutoring w/ football player tyun who’s also top of his classes cos he’s just so smart hehe .. the tension at his games good lord

RAAAAAH YES AND YES LIA OMGGG YOU DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND MY JAW DROPPED 🫠

footballer!taehyun x cheerleader!reader suggestive thoughts (literally all over the place bear with me)

first of all I LOVE this concept, and I wholeheartedly agree that sookai ate up that fit but they’re a good looking group of guys who can fu—

idk what it is but when you mentioned ‘sweet n sugary’ I get it, I really do omfg. like every time the cheerleaders have a dress rehearsal you’re all out on the field beside where the footballers have their training outdoors. short fitting shorts under the cute flap of your mini pleated skirt and your fitted long sleeved bodysuit with the university’s logo and the name of the football team you’re supporting.

literally going insane over the fact taehyun most likely watches the cheerleaders, specifically you, doing cartwheels and splits, his tongue poking his cheek once he sees just how flexible you are. probably storing it in a compartment in his brain with a massive label addressed as your name in bold and all caps.

thing is, taehyun knows you’re too good and a little ditzy to even realise half of the team is salivating over you. even better, you don’t know what he thinks when he watches you, thinking he’s giving you innocent eye contact from where he was watching.

tutoring with him must be fun. he knows your ditzy, but also knows you’re academically competent. he knows that when you set your mind to it, you’re able to do it with confidence. hence your place in cheer since the selection for the group wasn’t easy.

during your tutoring sessions you’d sometimes come in your practice clothes after a cheer rehearsal—the clothes being a oversized cropped tshirt and skin tight booty shorts that leaves little to the imagination. sitting next to taehyun and he instantly glances down at the meat of your thighs while you take your books and laptop out.

occasionally, he’d be talking to you about a section within the subject in which you’re struggling in but far from failing. you just want all your grades to be as good as his. he’s been your inspiration this whole time anyway. and sometimes when you work out the questions a little quicker than he does, he lays his warm palm against your inner knee and caresses your exposed skin gently, cooing praises like, “you’ve gotten better I see.” or even a, “atta girl” 😵‍💫🫠🤯

and the games THE GAMES 😵‍💫 I just know tension rises during the games, knowing just how competitive he can be and you’re cheering as hard as you can for the home team, for taehyun. just like when the cheerleaders are performing at the beginning of the game (idk how it works I’m sorry I’ve never been to … nor seen an american football game cjdmdk) the footballers are all getting ready to enter the field, and once the performance is done you make sure to make eye contact with taehyun and blowing him a kiss with a wink. that’ll for sure keep his energy up at the beginning of the game.

and let’s say the home team won 🤭 and the cheer squad end with another performance, you run up to taehyun and congratulate him for being one of the teams best players that evening. smiling up at him with your sweet smile, asking him if you can be his plus one to the team’s celebration later that night. how can taehyun refuse?

“‘course you can, doll. want you by my side tonight, m’kay?” and he’d cup your cheek, thumb caressing your skin until he slides his hand to cup your jaw, then a little lower to hold onto your neck with no pressure.

and all you do is nod with your pretty doe eyes and your pretty, perfect smile that has him wrapped around your finger. boy does taehyun want to ditch that afterparty and take you home to ruin in his sheets. because fuck the tension, he wants you. he always has.

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

[hurtspideyparker]

Hi, sorry but could you recommend any of your favourite Peter Parker fics please?

For sure !!! *cracks open ao3 bookmarks*

Thirty Hours by polaroid15 - Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Hurt Peter Parker, my favourite tag <3 I love when Spider-Man is a badass and also lacks self-preservation. He's so cool fighting alongside the Avengers and we get some sweet hurt/comfort irondad!

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain - Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

This fic is an icon in the fandom and for GOOD REASON. I just can not get enough of Peter Parker hiding his injuries. More heavy whump and angst!

All good things come in threes by Bergen - Peter has three secret identities: Spider-Man, the superhero who swings around the city to save people. Parker Benjamin, who gives Tony Stark unsolicited advice on his research. And NightMonkey, the Instagrammer who keeps uploading increasingly popular but embarrassing drawings of Iron Man.

And he can juggle them all just fine, thankyouverymuch.

Okay here is the fluff!!! Peter is a genius, a menace, and a sweetheart. Tony Stark runs into him (again and again) and can't help but have a soft spot for him every time. Funny and cute and an all 'round good time!

Held Together by Spiderwebs by TunaFishChris - Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he's had enough.

But just as he's about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

This one focuses a lot on Steve but I really like him and Peter's relationship in it, and I think this is great Peter Parker characterization. TW for discussions of depression and suicide, it gets a bit dark!

5 Times Spider-Man Saved an Avenger's Ass (and 1 Time They Saved Him) by TunaFishChris - this fic showcases how strong and capable Peter is, he's definitely a BAMF. I really like this genre where the Avengers know Spider-Man but not Peter Parker, makes Peter feel more independent and mature like in the comics.

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + One Time He Shows Up Anyway, Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited, and Five Times Strangers Talked About Peter and Tony + One time Someone They Know Did by kingdomfaraway - I am just gonna recommend this entire series. Super fluffy, extreme irondad and spiderson. They're just adorable from an outside perspective and I love when Peter gets to just be Tony's intern and a teenager for a while :)

research and disaster by blueh - “So, uh, Mr. Stark definitely knows Roomba-Kid,” Becket says and discreetly tilts his head in the direction of the pair.

“Oh my god,” Jess says. She almost sounds gleeful. “Oh my god, he’s not just some random kid. He’s Mr. Stark’s kid.”

or: the interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

I just love intern Peter mk? Let him be a kid genius and have fun!!! Fluffy and humorous, again with the irondad.

Captain, Oh My- Not My Captain! by uncouth_peasant - Peter swallowed hard before firing a web to swing into the fray. “Cap’s going after civilians. I’m out of time.”

Bruised and bloody men <3. Just Peter being a badass and getting beat to a pulp. Cool fighting, lots of Peter whump, and of course the Avengers being protective.

Good publicity by Bergen - Between Peter Parker barely speaking, and Spider-Man being the ultimate chatterbox, how was Tony ever supposed to figure out that they were one and the same person?

Tony Stark is secretly a softie for cute kids, especially when they're a genius and have a sense of humour to rival his own. Peter is a foster kid who ends up finding a home with Pepper and Tony, very sweet.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - When Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves, simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help.

Heavy TW for this one, mind the tags. This is a popular fic and for good reason. A very mature and realistic portrayal of the foster care system and homelessness. The Peter angst is really great and I could barely put it down, that boy needs a hug so bad.

Now here's some hydra!Peter fics cuz they're my jam:

Peter is a precious chickpea by Bergen - They attack the HYDRA safe house shortly before sunrise.

The only people defending said safe house are Peter and Leo, and Leo slams his cell door open and starts spitting out orders, but then promptly gets clobbered over the head and keels sideways.

So that just leaves Peter. And he’s not even going to try to fight a whole team of Avengers. He looks up at Iron Man filling the doorway. “I surrender.”

He’s never been captured before and he’s not sure what to do. Escape, probably.

This entire series is PERFECT. I just love how adorable Peter is, and all the relationships Peter forms with the Avengers absolutely melt my heart. Peter's characterization in this is really unique and I wish there was more. The Bucky and Peter friendship is everythingggg. I love hydra!peter and bucky fics.

Indoctrination by phoenixon - The Avengers thought they were on a typical assignment: Infiltrate the Hydra base and find the weapon. What they didn't expect was the small boy raised by Hydra that they found instead. And they definitely didn't expect him to stay at Avengers Tower or how he somehow wormed his way into their lives. As for Peter, he just wants to be good and obey what the Hydra men told him so he doesn't get in trouble.

I just really love hydra Peter changing into a sweet and intelligent boy once he's rescued and safe, and how all the Avengers take up such heart-warming parental roles around him.

out there, living in the sun by Hailfire_73 - The Avengers rescue Peter from a Hydra base ran by his father, Richard Parker, except Peter doesn't really see it as a rescue, and has trouble settling into a new life away from Hydra and his father at the Avengers compound. OR - Peter learns how to be an actual teenager, live life, and put his abusive past behind him, and Tony learns how to be a father.

Hydra Peter but he's most definitely a traumatized and moody teenager. I really enjoyed Peter's character arc and the exploration of his trauma. It felt more realistic the way his journey isn't just a straight or clear path. He's more mature in this one and it was a really compelling read, balancing the angst with some humour and fluff. Loved the ending.

Tinker, Tailor, Spider by Bergen - Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

I really enjoy that the author doesn't water Peter being hydra down. Yes he is a highly skilled assassin and a badass who's trauma pervades his every thought and decision. Made me fall in love with the Tony, Pepper, Morgan and Peter as a family dynamic. Super domestic while still highlighting Peter's troubled past.

[fredwkong]

Genie, I wish my friend would be able to steal the manliness and size of his tormentors to see how they feel being the little, weak scrawny guy.

You and your friend are arriving at the gym when you spot the genie. He’s dressed like a gym promoter, manning a table full of free samples.

“Here bro!” he calls to your friend, who flinches. With his scrawny body and meek attitude, your friend hasn’t had great experiences with guys who look like this genie. “Take a free cap! Special offer, bro.” The genie holds our a black snapback cap with a little lamp logo on it.

You jog over and grab it, then jam it onto your friend’s head over his protests. “You look good!” you tell him, when he tries to take it off. He does, you realise. He’s standing just a little straighter already.

You’re getting set for bench presses when you see the first douchebro go up to your friend while he squats. He sneers and says something you can’t hear. Then, the bully suddenly gasps and clutches himself as his muscles waste away. The logo on the had sparkles. Your friend ignores the bully, and also ignores the sudden bulk of his thickening torso under his straining graphic tee. When he finishes his warm-up, your friend frowns and loads up some extra 45s on the bar to do his working sets.

By the time he’s setting up for deadlifts, five more bullies have come and gone, their muscles and deep, douchey voices stripped away by the cap’s magic. Your friend’s shirt has torn off his still-growing body, and it looks like his shorts might follow soon. You can see in his eyes, though, that he still has the mentality of a skinny nerd. You better get over there and show him just how much you appreciate his new size and earth-shaking, manly voice.

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.

[st-el-la-luna]

Thinking about @charliemwrites Charmed Slasher!Ghost

First of all:

Perfect Wife by Amigo the Devil

"And if I hurt you, please forgive me. Love makes you do funny things"

Music recommendations aside, let's crack in.

18+ Content. NSFW. AFAB reader you/your pronouns used. Mentions of mensurating, blood, period sex, oral (reader receiving), blood consumption

Charmed Slasher Ghost who, for one reason or another, has a nose like a bloodhound. Can smell the change in your hormones in the days leading up to your period. Can smell your blood. And oh, fuck, does he want more of it. More. More. More. More. More.

Will throw out or hide your medications, break your heating pads, get rid of the caps for your hot water bottle, leaving you with nothing. He listens to you whine and complain for a while before, casually:

"You know, I've heard an orgasm can help with that."

While a part of him wants nothing more than to take you right there, he waits. He wants you to come to him. Wants to see you all sad and pathetic. Pupils blown, cheeks burning, lips parted with laboured breaths, pouting, eyes watering, voice trembling with shame and desperation as you ask him to please please please help.

He's not going to make it that easy for you though.

"Don't you have toys sweet thing? Don't you have fingers?"

Simon's been watching though. He knows. Knows that you can't cum, not on your own. Knows your fingers can't reach those places that make you see stars and your toys just can't give you that final push over the edge.

He wants to hear you say it though. Wants you to tell him that you need him. Wants you to beg.

And you do.

It doesn't take long. In fact, it happens so quickly you almost get whiplash. In one moment, you're in the kitchen pleading with Simon, tears in your eyes.

The next, well... There are still tears in your eyes. Just for a different reason.

Blood soaked panties torn off, Simon wastes no time pushing two thick fingers inside. It's tight. It's warm. It's wet. When he pulls his fingers back, they're coated in red.

You whine at the loss and he doesn't disappoint, touching you in ways you've never been touched before. Fingers curling inside you, abusing this spongy spot that has your back arching, thumb rubbing against your clit so harsh it's almost cruel.

Your head is thrown back, eyes shut, slack jawed. You can't remember the last time you felt this good.

"How's that sweetheart? That feel good?" he croons, his eyes almost overtaken by the black of your pupils.

He leans in to your inner thighs, wet with arousal, spit and blood. His tongue lolls out.

Your eyes go wide. You reach down to grab at his hair, trying to pull him away. "Wait, I—"

He growls. Literally growls, his eyes dark.

"Thought you wanted help... You didn't expect me to do this for nothing, did you?" He asks lowly. His free hand goes from grabbing at your hips and massaging the fat of your ass, to holding your wrists in a vice like grip.

He lowers himself again, still working his fingers. His breath is hot and warm against sensitive skin. His eyes flutter. He lets out something between a sigh and a moan, inhaling the smell of your blood.

Is he...?

He is.

You realise, eyes widening, jaw going slack, from both shock and the way he's curling his fingers inside you, abusing your sensitive spots. He's actually drooling.

He groans, then dives in, flattening his tongue against your thigh and licking a long stripe, gathering your blood and arousal on his tongue. His eyelashes flutter. His eyes roll back. His hips buck against empty air.

"So fucking good..." He grumbles as he slips a third finger in, licking and biting at the meat of your thighs. "Taste so fucking good."

He works you to not one but three orgasms. Once on his fingers, once on his tongue and once on his cock. Until you're fucked out and sated, boneless.

He brings his fingers down, gathers up a heaping portion of his cum and your blood from between your legs, then brings his fingers to your lips.

"Open wide, sweetheart."

Please reblog to support my writing!

Masterlist

[sleepyhutcherson]

whiplash smile

where billy surprises you with a clean house, flowers, and a… meal.

pairing: billy (burn, 2019) x gn!reader

word count: 1.6k

contains: (request) smoking, established relationship, fluff, reader is having a rough week, billy tries to cook…

a/n: first time writing for billy <3 thank you for the request anon!! >ᴗ< ive been so obsessed with billy aaa. title inspired by billy idol’s album idk i feel like billy would listen to him lol.

You were having a tough week due to some family issues, Billy picked up the way your mood dropped and decided to do something nice for you while you were away for a few hours.

After dealing with your family for nearly three whole hours you return home completely exhausted, wanting nothing more but to be in your boyfriend's presence. You barely stick the key into the door when the door swings open, the man you so desperately craved standing on the other side.

“Hey, beautiful,” Billy greets with a grin, cigarette between his lips moving up and down at his muffled words. He opens the door enough for you to slip inside your shared home.

The house is clean which is a bit of a surprise. Before you left there was a mess: clothing pieces scattered in different areas of the house, several beer bottles and caps on the table along with other things. You weren’t usually untidy, you liked to keep the house well maintained but your issues with your family just brought you to a low.

“You cleaned the house?” You ask, taking off your coat and hanging it on the rack, slipping off your shoes next and setting them besides Billy’s boots. You were a little surprised honestly, Billy wasn’t the best at picking up, but you were impressed with his word and grateful for his effort.

“Yeah.” Billy replies, with a cocky look on his face. You can hear a familiar tune play softly in the background, you recognise it as one of Billy’s favourite songs. “What? No ‘thank you’? ‘You’re the best boyfriend ever’?” He asks, bringing your attention back to him.

You realise you haven’t said thank you now that he’s mentioned it. You move towards your boyfriend, who immediately puts his cigarette out knowing your next move, and cup his face, his hands moving to your hips to keep you close. “Thank you, you’re the best boyfriend ever.” You say through a smile, mocking his words.

Billy rolls his eyes playfully, pulling you closer to him. “Oh, is that how it is then?” He asks, cocking a brow, his hands travelling up to your waist. He loves to have your hands on his face, it’s oddly comforting to him. He leans down to kiss you, pressing his body up against yours. Your lips are familiar with each other, the kiss almost some kind of reflex.

For the first time ever he pulls away first. “I missed you,” he says, your noses brushing up. “Bad day?” He asks, his thumb stroking your sides where his hands still remain.

“Yeah,” you sigh, but you really don’t want to talk about it; you don’t even want to think about it either, right now you just need him. “But I don’t want to talk about it, is that okay?”

“Of course.” He kisses your lips again, a small pure kiss, your lips brushing against each other softly for a second. “Hey, stay here, I have something for you.” He makes his way towards the kitchen with a pace that tells you he’s clearly excited to show you whatever he has for you.

When he returns he has a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers in his hands, the colours bright, your eyes softening at the sight of Billy carrying them towards you. He was a complete softy on the inside despite how much he denied it.

“Oh, they’re beautiful!” You gush, taking them once he hands them to you, a soft smile plastered on his face, happy about your reaction. How was this the same man that blew up that gas station?

“Aren’t they? They reminded me of you.” You meet his pretty eyes, he never fails to win your heart, he always knows how to make you feel better.

You set the flowers aside and embrace the man in front of you. He was truly the best boyfriend—you weren’t mocking his words anymore. “Thank you,” you say, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, his stubble tickling you just a bit. You give him a peck on his neck before pulling away.

“Oh, that’s not it, sweetheart. I made you dinner.” He grins and your brows furrow—-Billy knew how to cook?!

Billy had never tried to cook before but he knew how to use the stove so he thought why not? How hard could it really be? He burnt himself several times but hey, the food he prepared was not burnt! That was surely a plus. Who knew if it was good, he didn’t taste it he hoped for your opinion first.

“You made dinner?” You question as Billy leads you to the kitchen where you see a pot on the stove that is definitely too small for the amount of spaghetti he made, the noodles and sauce overflowing, the pot and stove stained with the red sauce.

“I made spaghetti,” he says, his eyes searching for your reaction. “It’s not anything fancy… but I just wanted to make you something…” he mumbles coyly, feeling suddenly very needy for your approval. Actually, he always craved your approval and he partially hated that because he had never needed praise from anyone before but now he needs it from you at all times.

You smile enthusiastically. Sure the kitchen was a bit of a mess now but he very obviously tried his absolute best. He did this for you and that was enough to make you happy. “No, don’t worry, it’s perfect, baby.” You assure, looking up at him, meeting his worrying eyes. “Thank you, Billy. You really didn’t have to.”

He smiles, his worry suddenly cleared up once he heard your words. “Well, you deserve it.”

You kiss his cheek with a gentle smile. Thank fuck for wannabe cowboys like Billy, right? “Let’s eat then?”

Billy tells you to sit at the dining table insisting to serve you. You agree knowing Billy really wanted to do this for you and sit down at your small dining table. He pokes his head out of the kitchen then. “Do you want Coke or Pepsi? I wasn’t sure which you preferred while I was at the grocery store so I just bought you both.”

You blush at that and you feel sort of silly for doing so but it warmed your heart that Billy could be so thoughtful. “Pepsi is fine,” you say through a flustered smile. He nods, a cheeky smile on his face taking notice of the pink that tints your cheeks, before returning back to the kitchen.

He joins you at the table with two plates of spaghetti, a glass of Pepsi with ice and a bottle of beer for him. You notice when he sets the plate down how stiff the noodles look, like they haven’t been cooked long enough, but of course you don’t say anything.

Billy watches you, eager for you to eat his food. He spent time making this meal for you and he really hoped you liked it. He watches you pick up a bit of noodles with your fork, you stare at it for a moment, you smile at him and shove the forkful of noodles into your mouth.

It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either but…it was the thought that counted, right? The noodles were a little hard, not cooked right, and you could tell Billy hadn’t put any seasoning in it but…it was his first time cooking and he seemed proud of his work.

Once you swallow his food, you smile effusively at him. “It’s delicious! You did really well for it being your first time.” Billy felt pretty good hearing your words but honestly he was a little surprised, had he managed to make something good without following a recipe?

He takes a bite himself expecting his food to be delicious, like you said and the moment the food hits his taste buds his face scrunches up in disgust and it’s honestly adorable. He looks at you, brows furrowed, his mouth stuffed, the corners stained with sauce. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction and he spits his food out onto his plate.

“That is not delicious,” he tries to put on an angry expression but the corners of his lips twitch up. Eventually, he breaks into a smile, your laughter and smile winning him over. “How the fuck did you swallow that?” He asks, laughing a little now himself.

“It’s not too bad!” You insist, your cheeks hurting now by how much you were laughing.

Billy reaches for his napkin, wiping his mouth before taking a sip of his beer wanting to get rid of the taste of his own food. “That was horrible,” he says, setting his bottle down. “You could’ve told me before I took a bite, you little liar.”

You smile softly, your hand reaching over for him across the table. Your hands brush, his hands callous but warm against yours. “But you seemed so proud of your work.”

Billy chuckles. “But it was horrible, baby.” He tugs at your hand a little and you stand up, and like that he pulls you over to sit on his lap, your meals now ignored. You look down at Billy, your hands on his jaw, his eyes sparkling as he stares up at you. “But thank you for not being mean.”

You stroke his cheek with your thumb, his hands on your waist again, holding onto you. “I’ll help you with dinner next time, okay?” You say, and he nods, a soft smile on his lips.

“Okay.” He mumbles with a dreamy look, mesmerised by the sight of you. He loved to have you like this, on his lap, your hands on his face. “You’re perfect.” He whispers, and you respond with a kiss, the best response he could ask for.