#*with half an inch in between them* I thought that guy was cool

[watchyourbuck]

New 7x04 drinking game: take a shot every time Buck invades Tommy’s personal space before he even knows he’s attracted to him

[fckmebarnes]

rush

stoner!bucky x stoner!reader

18+ men and minors dni. smut — weed. high sex. squirting. ass slapping. choking, oral (both). fingering (r). daddy kink. bit of a breeding kink if you squint a little. cockring use.

w/c 3.4k

a/n — hiii. here’s another stoner bucky fic for you guys <3 i hope you enjoy teehee. @desiredsoldier thought you’d like this one ;)

“do you remember how many grams you put in there?” you peer into the melted marshmallow mixture in the pan on the stove — watching the way the melted green butter mixes with the rest of the food

bucky shrugs

“wait — you don’t know?” you look at him with wide eyes, surprised.

“no, i don’t.” he says as he starts mixing the rest. “i figured we’d find out, yeah?” he smirks over at you as you blush darkly before sitting back on the countertop and nods.

he takes a little piece and breaks it off, coming over to your spread thighs and slotting between them to hold the warm edible up to your lips

you couldn’t smell the weed at all as you licked your lips and took a bite, groaning in response

“good?” he asks as you nod and he takes a piece, nodding. “that’s gonna fuck us up for sure.” he laughs as you watch him package it up in a little container to let it cool.

“in the meantime…” he trails off, reaching for a half lit joint before sparking it with a flick of his wrist of the lighter before bringing it to his lips, inhaling and exhaling the smoke cloud in your face

you inhale it, mostly as a joke, but the look bucky gives you when you chase after his exhale has him taking another hit and gripping your cheeks to pull you in for a kiss

he exhales the smoke into your mouth as you inhale it, a groan leaving his lips when he presses a soft kiss to your lips as you exhale.

“you look so fuckin’ good like this,” he murmurs, eyes trailing down your figure

you were simply in a tank top and some

sleep shorts — but you knew anything god bucky hard

“you think so?” he nods as he takes another hit of the joint and bringing it to your lips, letting you inhale.

“i know so…” he says, watching your lips wrap around the end of the joint. his cock twitches — wanting to feel your lips wrapped around his cock. you catch his gaze as he stares at you, feeling his hips rub against your core and you could feel his hard he was already through his sweats.

“these slutty little pajama shorts leave nothing to the imagination.” he takes another hit before giving it to you. you take it, as his fingers come to run over the expanse of your thighs, right under the fabric of your sleep shorts.

you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

“oh, doll…” he exhales, eyes dipping down the column of your neck to your exposed tits, nipples running hard against the thin tank top fabric.

your hips were so big, his hands being able to grab some flesh — but at all of it.

fuck, he loved you like this.

“i need to feel you.” he groans, your eyes half lidded the more you hit the joint. he tugs on your pajama shorts and off your legs — your bare ass on the counter top before he’s falling to his knees and pushing your legs over his shoulders.

he tugs you closer to the edge of the counter, face inches from your exposed cunt.

“you’re fuckin’ soaked.” he murmurs, feeling his body start to feel lightweight from the effects the weed and the small bite of edible was having already.

he felt delirious. the scent of your pussy was invading his senses — his cock twitching and throbbing in his sweats. no doubt making a mess of his pre cum.

you lean back, steadying yourself on your palms against the counter top, the joint still in your other hand as you re light it.

“go on then, buck…taste me…” you urge him on, opening your hips wider for him until he can’t take it.

he licks a long, fat stripe up your cunt to your clit, swirling his tongue furiously around your clit before swiping back down — teasing your wet hole.

he groans against you as he feels another gush of arousal push of your of your cunt and onto his tongue — you tasted so fucking sweet, like a taste he’s never had before in his life.

“fuck.” he growls against your cunt, cock throbbing in his sweats as he nudges his nose against your clit before going to swipe his tongue down through your folds — finding your wet hole again. he cant take it -- the sweet smell of your cunt mixed with the sweet taste on his tounge..

he cant help but slip in a finger, metal finger curling as he watches your face closely. you exhale a breathy moan adn fuck -- even just that sound has him cumming in his sweats. he groans agaisnt you as he watches his fingers get covered in your slick with each trust of his finger before hes easily slipping a second one in

getting this high with him always had you easily wet for him. there was something about his big demeaning space, the way he takes every inch of the surrounding air and replaces it with the scent of him. it makes your head dizzy and your cunt squeeze his fingers

he notices.

“what are you thinkin’ about, doll?” he asks as he speaks against your wet lips, making sure to keep his tongue swiping through your folds, watching you in real time lose your train of thought as he licked you.

“yo-you, buck…” yo whine as you tip your head back in pleasure as he licks up your cunt again, dribbling down his chin, marking his skin with your scent. he continues his speed with his fingers, taking pleasure in how you're feeling right now.

“yeah? what about, hm?” he knows youre already too fucked out to answer his question, you can only focus on his fingers slipping out of you cunt before pushing back in a t a slow pace. you look back down at him again as you shake your head, flustered and embarrassed

“aw, baby doesn;t wanna tell me?” you groan again, feeling your stomach clench as bucky continues his assault of his tongue on your clit, is fingers pumping in and out of you -- curling right at your sweet spot.

he knows you're not going to tell him, and thats okay.

all he wants to do is feel you cum around his fingers.

“c’mon, doll. know you're close, can feel her squeezin my fingers. suckin me back in…” you groan as he watches your cuntswallow his fingers with a particularly hard thrust, curling tightly as his tongue circles against your clit furiously

you go to let go of the joint in between your fingers and grip his hair, tugging him closer as you start to grind you rhips against his face, needing more.

“fuck…’m close buck--” you let out a choked moan as you feel your orgasm washing ove your body and coating bucly’s fingers nad face with your cum, a groan erupting from bucky’s throat and against your cunt -- travelling up your spine.

he pulls back enough to suck off your clit with a lewd pop, taking his fingers from your hole and sticking them into his mouth, cleaning them off with a groan.

“tastes as sweet as i remember.” he says as if he wasn't just in between your legs this morning.

he notices the time has passed significantly, and he stands up to pick you up, plopping you on the ground softly. he finds the now settled marshmallow edibles and tears off a good sizeable piece, taking it in his mouth and between his lips before hes bending down and you open you mouth, taking the other half of the edible

he groans when he watches you mirror his movements, lips wrapping around the edible as you take a bit along with bucky, lips pressing together. he groans as he tastes the sweetness of you cunt mixed with the marshmallow on his tongue, eyes filling with hot desire as he watches your own eyes blown out with lust.

you lick your lips as you finish the edible, feeling the weed -- from the joint you smoked while he was in between your thighs -- hit the second you swallowed to edible, your hands coming to grip his arms as you melt into his embrace

you felt an aching need in the center of your core when you pressed your hips against his, a sharp intake of breath was heard above you from bucky

“doll..” he warns sharply, taking your chin in his flesh hand and making you look up at him. the flook on your face told him all he needed to know -- you were already so gone that you didn't have any other thought in your brian expect making sure bucky felt good.

“daddy…” you mirror the same desperate tone of his as you sink down to your knees, pushing him back enough that you have room to fit. his eyes watch your body as you lower in front of him. the cool tile of the floor sinks into the warm skin if your knees. he tuts before grabbing a plush dish owel and handing it to you to put under your knees and yoo do. it feels a bit more comfortable but honestly you didn't really care about how comfortable you were.

you take your fingers and hook them into his sweats, tugging them down to his own ankles as he steps out of them -- his cocks pringing free and slapping against his lower abdomen, your eyes peer up to see his cocks standing straight -- the tip red and leaking pre cum. a vein throbbing on the underside of his cock. you lick your lips, hoping that the cotton mouth can stay at bay just until he cums down your throat

“gonna suck my cock, baby?” you nod, taking his cock in your hands as you give it a few small pumps, the soft skin rubbing against your palm. he was so big, throbbing and aching in your small palm. he loved the view of you underneath your like this, licknig your lips as you look eagerly at his dick.

“go on, then. open that pretty mouth up.” and you do, you wet your lips before you stick your tongue out and practically moan as you taste his pre cum on your tongue. he pushes the tip further into your mouth, watching your soft lips enclose around the tip of his cock. fuck, it was just like sitting the tip in your wet cunt.

he groans, furling his metal fist before his flesh hand comes to grip the back of your head, his own head tipping back when he pushes your wet mouth further onto him -- and you let him. you let him use you just the way he wanted. you loved sitting under him like this -- hearing the groans and whimpers leaving his lips as his hips start to buck enough to make the tip of his dick kiss the back of your throat repeatedly.

“look at you, takin’ daddy’s cock so fuckin’ well in that sweet mouth of yours…” he trails off as his fingers grip your hair tightly before his hips pick up the pace. your fingers dig into his thighs as tears prick your eyes. your brain continues to grow hazier and hazier form the effects of the weed and the edible -- and with the way bucky was groaning and moaning like a bitch in heat -- you knew it was getting into his system as well.

he feels his balls tighten as they slap on the underside of your chin, spit and his pre cum dribbling from the sides of your lips and onto your lap. fuck, your cunt was throbbing like crazy as he used you mouth for his pleasure. you knew he liked to take control like this, especially when he was high.

his brain warped as he watches your mouth suck him off, your throat bulging with each stroke of his hips and he felt his orgasm wash over him without warning. “fuck…shit—! take it baby… all of it — there you go…” hes rambling at this point, feeling the hot liquid fall down your throat as you sucked him for all hes worth.

you clean your lips as soon as you suck off his cock with a lewd ‘pop’. his own mouth is gaped slightly open, the long brown strands of his hair falling on front of his face as he watches you -- breathing heavily.

the second he watches you kitten lick the tip of his cock clean, hes bending over and gripping your elbow, pulling you up so he can crash his lips into yours -moaning as he tasted himself on his lips.

the kiss is heated, intense, and only gets the both of you goin even more. your brains are only focused on how soft each other's lips arm, the sounds coming from one another and the feeling of hands roaming around on exposed skin. “bedroom, now.” he mumbles against your lips and giggles as you nod, pulling his metal hand with you into the bedroom.

“sit.” you say as you point the the bed, and bucky is too fucking high to disobey. so he sits his happy, horny and high ass on the bed, his cock throbbing still. he reaches to stroke it, watching you tug off your tank top and go to the closet. He had a small idea of what you were going for, but he still wasn't sure.

a second later, you were holding his cockring. the one that vibrated, more specifically.

“baby…” he breathes out, watching you stride over to him with a confident smile on your lips. you pull them into a fake pout as you push him back against the pillows as you go to straddle him

you needed him.

all of him.

“what is it, daddy? you don't wanna use this to play with me?” you ask in a teasing voice, knowing the answer already.

“fuck yes i do,” he groans as you smirk, repalcing his hand with yours as you begin to stroke his cock, taking the toy and slowly rolling it down the length of his shaft. it squeezes him as you put it on -- not as tight as your pussy -- but enough to make him moan under your hand until you're pushing the toy snug against the base of his cock. you groan at the sight of him underneath you -- his chest heaving with desire and his eyes only going darker as he keeps his gaze on you.

he watches as you hover over his cock, the tip brushing agaisnt your puffy folds, your cunt gushing with arousal as you feel buckys large hands come to grip your hips to balance you better so you could ride him

he fucking loves watching you ride him from here, loves seeing your tits bounce with each thrust. the moans that fall from yourlips and how fucking deep he can get from this angle.

you reach in between your bodies as you go to turn on the cock ring, a small vibrating emitting from the toy that erupts through bucky’s body -- his cock twitching with each vibration.

“fuck, princess i--” he moans out as you sit more down on his cock, pushing him deeper and deeper into your cunt. you felt him stretch you out nice, bigger than his fingers. the vibrations from the base of the cock ring pressed agaisnt yout clit as you bottomed out.

the only sounds in the room were the debauched moans spilling from both yours and bucky’s lips and the slick sound of your cunt sliding up the lenght of his cock and back down again.

“buck…oh gods…” you ramble as you lean forward and lean your hands on his chest before youre moving your hips as a medium pace, the sound of skin slapping on skin making your breaths rag on harder. he slaps your ass with his metal hand, making you clench around his cock in response.

“riding daddy’s cock so fuckin’ well…look at you take all of me so good..” he watches your cunt slide down his cock and grind deeply into him.

between the sounds falling from your lips, the way your tits bounced with each stroke of his hips. and fuck -- the way your cunt squeezed his cock each time, slick running down his balls and onto the sheets

he knew he just came but fuck -- he wants to fill your cunt up so fucking full with his cum he felt a little delerious.

“eyes on me, doll.” he stares as you tip your head back before looking back into his eyes. blood shot and blown out.

he groans as he meets your gaze, a hungry look in your eye while you pick up the pace while he fucks you, skin slapping on skin making his balls tighten. “daddy…” you moan as you sit up and arch your back, his feet coming to plant themselves on the top of the bed as he angled his hips just the right way — snapping them up into you.

“take it, baby — take my fuckin’ cock like the good breeding slut you are.” you moan at his words, fucking filthy, sounding like this but you know he’s so far fucked out you know he’d babble anything at this point. he would fuck you full of his cum if it meant for you to be leaking for days.

“more, please—!” you whine, the vibrations sending shakes through your bodies as he takes your position and flips you over to your back — not sliding out once.

at this angle he slams his hips into you even fast, harder and fucking deeper if that was possible. “you want more, princess? you want daddy’s fat cock to split you open?” you screw your eyes shut as you moan.

wrong move.

“nuh uh,” his metal hand comes to wrap itself around your neck, squeezing to make you open your eyes back up. “keep em’ on me baby — yeah, just like that. good girl.” he moans as he brings his lips to crash into you, hips slightly faltering as he feels his impending orgasm trickle up his spine.

you take your hand in between your legs and start curling your clit with your fingers, the vibration of the cock ring sending massive signals through your body you were close to coming. if not something else.

“‘m so close…buck…” your back is arching with each heavy thrust of bucky’s dick, the way he’s kissing your sweet spot with the tip of his dick each time as your stomach clenching, your clit throbbing and fuck — those dog tags dangling right in front of your face

“yeah baby? can feel you suqeezin’ my cock, jus’ like this fuckin’ toy…” he mumbles against your lips.

you take those dog tags in between your teeth with moan as you feel your body make a mess.

you squirt. hard.

making a mess all over bucky’s lower abdomen and yours, trickling between your thighs and down your crack.

bucky practically loses his mind at feeling you make a mess

“slutty fuckin’ bunny.” he moans, squeezing your throat as he sits up and lets go of your throat before taking your hips in both hands. a few thrusts falter as he catches his release

“gonna cum, baby. tell daddy how bad you want it. go on.” you look up at him with the most fucked out, high look on your face as you’re babbling ‘please, please daddy,’ and fuck — the way your back arches against his chest and the cool pressing of his metal dog tags against your flushed bodies has him cumming with a cry of your name, filling you deep and full of his cum

“fuck, thank you daddy—!” you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer as his cock twitches inside you, the toy now pushing both of you into overstimulation and over sensitivity but neither of you could care less.

in fact, the way his cock was throbbing inside of you right now told you all you needed to know.

“more?” you ask softly, into his neck as you pepper kisses onto his sweaty skin, a chuckle vibrating through his chest.

“you want more, baby? need daddy’s cock that bad, huh?” you nod as he kisses your skin back in return as he moves his hips slowly, fucking his cum back into your dripping cunt.

“daddy will give you anything you want and more.”

[art-by-jas]

Late Afternoon Swim Jack Abbot x Reader x Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch TAGS: Established Relationship, Kissing, Skinny Dipping. Summary: The three of you are on vacation, and while Robby would rather bask in the outdoors, you and Jack have other plans. A/N: This is rushed because I have work in less than an hour, so I'm sorry if there are spelling errors.

Robby sat with his legs dangling over the weathered edge of the dock, his toes skimming the surface as the cool, crystal-clear water lapped gently around his ankles. He savored a long, refreshing sip of his beer—the condensation from the bottle dripping onto his worn shorts—and closed his eyes with a deep sigh of contentment, breathing in the fresh evening air. 

In this perfect moment, he felt a profound sense of peace wash over him, dissolving the knots of tension he'd carried for months. The sun was beginning to set beyond the distant tree line, casting a warm golden glow over everything it touched.

Robby, lost in the depths of his thoughts, was startled by the hollow sound of approaching footsteps on the weathered wooden dock. His shoulders tense as he reluctantly turns his head, squinting against the setting sun to see you and Jack making your way down the planks towards him. The orange glow of dusk illuminating your silhouettes.

"Can't a guy get some peace and quiet around here?" he quips, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. The two of you seat yourselves on either side of him, jostling his shoulders playfully, the dock swaying gently beneath your combined weight.

"You looked lonely over here by yourself," you tease, nudging him with your elbow while breathing in the salty air. "We couldn't let you enjoy the peace without us.”

Jack smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine affection. "Don't pretend you don't love the company."

Robby rolls his eyes dramatically but can’t help a reluctant grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, yeah, I suppose I can tolerate you two idiots." He took another long sip of his beer, savoring the bitter taste, and let his gaze drift back out over the shimmering water where the setting sun painted golden ripples across the surface. You and Jack exchange a mischievous glance.

"You know, I bet this would be a great spot for a swim," Jack said, eyeing the lake eagerly.

Jack catches your playful wink and grins. Without hesitation, he follows your lead, grabbing the hem of his faded blue t-shirt and pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, revealing his sun-kissed torso. His fingers moved to the brass button of his shorts, deliberately unfastening it before slowly tugging the zipper down. With a confident movement, he pushes both his shorts and navy boxers down his tanned legs, stepping out of them. Now completely naked, his skin prickling slightly in the cool breeze, he stands proudly at the edge of the dock, a seductive smirk playing on his lips.

A faint blush creeps up Robby’s neck as he takes a long, deliberate swig from his cold beer bottle, condensation dripping between his fingers as he attempts to hide his flustered reaction behind the amber glass.

Your fingers find their way to the hem of your soft, well-worn cotton t-shirt and follow Jack's lead, teasingly slipping it over your head inch by inch to reveal your smooth, flushed skin beneath. The cool air raises goosebumps across your exposed torso. Robby's breath audibly hitches, and his grip visibly tightens around his beer bottle, his knuckles turning white as his hungry gaze slowly wanders over every curve of your half-naked form. 

Jack's gaze flicked towards you. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body against his. His fingers splay across your bare back, his touch possessive but gentle. He leans in, his lips grazing your neck before they find yours. His kiss was urgent, his hands wandering over your body as if to memorize every curve, every dip, and every inch of smooth skin.

After breaking off the kiss, Jack winks at both of you and gives a mock salute before leaping off the dock into the lake. Hitting the surface with a resounding splash, he disappears beneath the ripples. With a teasing giggle, you stand from your spot on the dock and turn to Robby, your hands reaching to toy with the hem of his plaid shirt. He watches you through heavy, half-hooded eyes.

"Come on," you murmur, your voice a sultry whisper, "Why are you the only one still dressed?"

"I've got a feeling I'm going to regret asking this," he says jokingly, his lips closing on yours.

"Oh, come on, don't be such a stick in the mud," you tease before closing the distance and pressing your mouth to his. Robby's resistance melts the moment your lips meet. Your teasing touch and playful words were irresistible, and he finds himself lost in the kiss. His hands move to your back, pulling you tighter, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your skin. Your bodies press together as the kiss deepens. You slowly pull away from Robby and take a few steps back, leaving him with a dazed expression. 

Then, with a coy smirk, you turn and run towards the edge of the dock. With a graceful dive, you leap off the end. The water envelopes you, the shock of its chill a sharp contrast to the warmth that had flushed your skin moments before.

Jack chuckles and calls from the water, "Come on, live a little. Jump in with us." Robby looks between the two of you, your bodies shining in the evening sun. He sighs and sets his beer aside.

"Fine," he says, standing up and removing the rest of his clothes. His body was soft, having a few extra pounds on him, which you and Jack are absolutely feral over. 

As he stands there, completely exposed, he hears you. "That's the spirit," you say, grinning.

Robby watches the two of you, shaking his head. He hesitates for a moment before finally diving into the water himself. Robby surfaces from the water, gasping for breath. He opens his eyes to see you swimming over to him, a soft smile on your face. You gently brush away some wet strands of hair that stick to his forehead, your touch sending goosebumps down his spine. 

"I've never seen you look so relaxed," you say softly. Jack appears behind Robby, his large hands grasping onto his hips. He pulls Robby closer, pressing himself against his back. Robby tenses for a moment, feeling a bit flustered by the sudden close contact. The heat of both your bodies so close to his was intoxicating. Jack's hands are still on his hips, possessive but tender, while your fingers continue their gentle caress through his hair. Even though he tries to resist, he finds himself melting into the embrace.

The setting sun cast a warm, golden glow over the water, and the surface reflected the sky, turning the lake into a canvas of oranges and purples.

MASTERLIST

[scoutofmymind]

Reader and Luigi basically being the old married couple of the group. A newcomer finds out that they aren’t actually together and it feels like breaking news because it’s basically assumed by most that they’re together. Maybe it isn’t until one of them starts getting actively pursued by someone else when it starts clicking why it makes them uncomfortable at the idea. Trying to leave this open ended for you.

The Jester’s Fucking the King — {Luigi x Reader }

Content: I’m gonna call this one NSFW— MDNI, friends to lovers, confusing feelings, Luigi has a physical touch fixation, you’re his fidget toy, fr tho, emotional manipulation lowkey, just a pinch (if you squint) of dirty talk, kinda love triangle

Wc: 3,458

Notes: yourself and Luigi have been Inseparable for six years, and the introduction of a new friend into the group throws a wrench into everything.

Before we start, I wanna make a quick note about the title, and where the hell it came from (lol). I was inspired by a tumblr post I came across awhile ago, and it stuck with me, I guess, because I randomly thought of it while I was writing this. That’s all. Enjoy xo

I took this and ran with it.

As usual.

"Who's this guy that she's bringing again?" you ask to the car at large, slumped in the backseat between your roommate Scarlett and the window. Your thumb swipes across your phone screen, watching Chloe’s location dot inch its way across the map while Luigi maneuvers through traffic and Ben fidgets with the radio from the passenger seat.

"I dunno, some guy she met in her new sculpture class this semester," Luigi mumbles through a barely-concealed grimace. The thought of adding another person to their carefully balanced social ecosystem clearly weighs on him. You know he's already mentally rehearsing his nice to meet you smile, the kind that takes more energy than he's willing to spend on a random Tuesday night.

"It'd better not be that kid Cole," you mutter, already dreading the possibility.

And because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, it was absolutely, undeniably, that kid Cole.

It hardly mattered what preconceived notions you’d had about him; they dissolved over time as Chloe started bringing him around more often.

The traits you once found annoying gradually morphed into something oddly endearing.

Still, he never quite seemed to understand the dynamic between you and Luigi.

On movie nights, when the six of you crammed into the living room, a messy sprawl of friends and blankets overtaking the couch and floor, you naturally claimed your usual spot; sprawled out across Luigi’s lap. Tonight was no different. You laid there with your back propped against the arm of the couch, scrolling through Instagram while your bottom half stretched longways over him, as if his lap had always been yours to occupy.

Every so often, you’d interrupt the movie to show him a meme or a video a mutual friend had sent. You’d lean in close, shoulders brushing, stifling your laughter together so as not to disturb the others watching John Wick. “That’s fucked up,” he muttered through a barely-contained chuckle, his eyes still on your phone screen.

Madison lives at home, her daily subway commute to campus a small price to pay for access to her parents' sprawling estate. Their backyard is a mediterranean dream, with a pool large enough to host the entire group of misfits, with room to spare.

You're draped over Luigi as he meanders around the pool's edge, both arms curved naturally around your waist beneath the waster. It's the kind of casual intimacy that comes from years of friendship, comfortable and worn-in. "Cole's actually pretty cool," he muses, tilting his head back expectantly.

You comply with the wordless request, holding the La Croix to his lips so he doesn't have to lift his hands from the water.

"Yeah," you agree, your eyes drifting across the pool to where Cole is pretending not to watch this whole exchange. His gaze darts away the moment yours meets his, like a kid caught stealing. "I really did think he was annoying at first, though."

Scarlett’s birthday party, your arms wrapped around Luigi’s waist, your head tucked beneath his arm as you swayed together and sang happy birthday. The whine as you shared a piece of cake, something about how “Luigi won’t even kiss me in public.” When someone said the two of you would have won prom king and queen if you went to the same high school.

Ben’s party followed just weeks later, the night still young and champagne bubbling through your veins. Luigi's hand clamped desperately over your mouth, but your eyes danced with mischief as you nodded enthusiastically at the circle gathered around you. "Yeah, Lu's got a PhD," you managed to say, and before he could stop you, the words tumbled out against his palm: "A pretty huge dick."

Cole watched.

"Did you know Cassie is seeing Dylan?" Cole asked, matching your frantic pace across campus. The morning fog swallowed your mumbled recitations as you mentally rehearsed your presentation for the hundredth time.

"Yeah, Cole, and I'm fucking Luigi.” you scoffed, the sarcasm dripping over every word like sticky molasses as you rolled your eyes. You yanked open the auditorium doors, disappearing behind them without a backward glance, mind already racing ahead to bullet points and transitions.

The very idea that Cole would believe such obvious campus gossip had you shaking your head as you slid into your seat.

But he did believe it.

He stood frozen in the hallway you'd left him in, staring at the closed doors like they might offer some explanation. "Yeah? I know.” he mumbled to your ghost, the words settling confused and heavy in the empty corridor.

The absolute certainty in his voice would have made you laugh, if you'd been there to hear it.

The seasons had shifted, and with them, Cole's hope had quietly ebbed away. After months of watching you, he'd finally accepted what everyone else seemed to know instinctively — even if Luigi wasn't in the picture, you were simply out of reach.

Saturday night found your usual crew at your claimed table in Madison’s backyard, the surface cluttered with emptied drinks and scattered Uno cards. Luigi absently twisted the rings on your fingers — a mindless habit he'd developed somewhere between freshman year and now — while chaos erupted around you.

The familiar symphony of shouted accusations about who was hiding the Draw Four cards mixed with the glow of phones being passed around, TikToks and screenshots sparking new waves of laughter.

Cole watched the way Luigi's fingers danced over yours, and for the first time, the sight didn't sting quite so much.

“I still can't believe Dylan and Cassie are dating," Cole mused through a cloud of smoke, beer bottle dangling precariously from his left hand while a joint was stuffed between the fingers on his right.

The table fell silent, five pairs of eyes fixing on him with varying degrees of confusion and amusement.

"Who told you that?" Scarlett's voice cut through the stunned silence and the resurrection of a dead and gone campus rumor, her phone screen illuminating her face as Dylan's name flashed across it. "Where did you even hear that?"

Cole's eyes pinballed around the table, finally landing on you and Luigi.

Your hand was caught in one of Luigi's absent-minded gestures, knuckles pressed against his lips while he listened — a habit so commonplace to everyone else that they'd stopped noticing years ago. "Uh— wait—" Cole fumbled, taking a desperate pull from the joint as if the answer might be hiding in the smoke. He passed it to his left and asked through a cough, "Are they not?"

“No, you idiot.” Scarlett threw a lighter at him, which he narrowly dodged.

"Well- why did- “Cole's words stumbled over each other as he locked eyes with you across the table. Your brows knitted together, genuinely bewildered by his desperation. "I- you said they were," he insisted, hand gesturing vaguely in your direction like a drowning man reaching for a life raft.

Scarlett's head whipped toward you so fast her earrings clinked, a new lighter in her hand that was suddenly transformed into a weapon of interrogation, the flame pointed in your direction. "You what?"

"I didn't say that!" Your hands flew up defensively, face flushing as you ransacked your memory for any conversation that could've led to this moment.

But your mind offered nothing but static.

"I asked you if you could believe they were- and-“Cole gestured helplessly at Luigi, who was studying your profile with the intense focus of someone who'd stopped processing verbal language three hits ago. His fingers hadn't stopped their absent dance with your rings once you lowered your hands again from your surrender to Scarlett’s mercy, muscle memory outlasting coherent thought.

Cole felt like he'd stumbled into an alternate dimension where everyone spoke a language he'd never learned while those same pairs of eyes dissected him with the kind of judgment only drunk twenty-somethings could muster, making him feel about two inches tall. "And you said 'yeah, and I'm fucking Luigi,'" he defended weakly, the words sounding more ridiculous with each passing second.

"Yeah!" You practically launched across the table, laughter threatening to bubble over as understanding finally dawned. "Because I'm not!" The force of your declaration nearly knocked over someone's beer, but you were too busy watching Cole's face transform as the shoe finally, finally dropped.

Luigi, for his part, just kept twisting your rings, lost somewhere between the fourth dimension and your knuckles.

Cole's jaw went slack, his eyes darting around the table again where this time everyone had suddenly developed an acute interest in hiding their smirks behind their hands — a masterclass in delayed politeness. "What?" He practically shoved the joint away when it circled back, as if too-late sobriety might make this make more sense. "But- but the dick size jokes and- and you tell everyone he won't kiss you in public."

"Oh, you poor thing." Chloe dabbed at her eyes, tears of mirth threatening to ruin her mascara. "She's always done that shit." The words came out half-strangled by suppressed laughter.

Months passed, and Cole transformed into your personal guardian angel. One desperate NEED SUGAR NOW OR DEATH text to the group chat, and he'd materialize with your favorite convenience store candy before anyone else had even read the message.

He collected details about you: the way your nose scrunched at certain perfumes, how you could quote every line from that one movie, the specific shade of purple that made your eyes light up. When he finally told you he liked you — really liked you, more than he'd ever liked anyone — you said you liked him too.

The gravitational shift was subtle at first — like planets realigning. Your usual perch in Luigi's lap gradually migrated to the chair beside Cole, a transition so natural that few noticed, not even you.

It came to a head one Saturday when Luigi texted his absence from movie night, claiming a sudden illness.

The excuse was paper-thin, and you both knew it.

You stood outside his building, jabbing the buzzer with the familiarity of someone who'd done this a thousand times before. "I know you're not sick, Luigi." Your voice crackled through the intercom, bouncing off the walls of his apartment where he lay curled into himself on the sofa, rigid as rigor mortis. "I can see your Oura ring stats." The betrayal of technology made him groan, and the offending ring went sailing across the room, a tiny meteor of exposed lies.

His father knows the developer.

That's the only reason he'd agreed to wear the damn thing — a circular shackle of obligations that now betrayed him from somewhere under his coffee table.

Your finger finds the buzzer again, gentler this time.

"C'mon, bub. I miss you." The sweetness in your voice hits him like a sucker punch, memories of simpler times wrapped in those words. "It can be me and you tonight. We can have a bestie night." The offer dangles like a Time Machine to the past — back when your world was just two planets in perfect orbit, before it expanded into a solar system of friends.

Before Cole ever came around.

Luigi appears in the doorway like a ghost, just as you're about to admit defeat. Your face splits into a grin, but it falters when you really look at him. "God." Your eyes track the sharp edges of his collarbones beneath his shirt. "Have you been eating?" The question trails behind you as you follow him up the familiar path to the second floor.

The apartment feels wrong — like walking into a black and white version of a color photograph you know by heart. Every blind drawn tight against the afternoon sun, as if he's been developing emotional negatives in the dark. "Hey, what's going on?" Your fingers find his forearm, anchoring him before he can drift away again. "This is kinda giving me flashbacks to when you failed your final."

He flinches like you've pressed on a bruise, eyes scanning his self-made darkness as if seeing it for the first time - the familiar choreography of his pain laid bare by your observation. "This definitely feels different from that." His voice comes out hollow, each word carefully chosen to dance around the real issue.

"Better, or worse?"

"I don't know."

He sinks back into his spot on the couch, the oversized blanket making him look smaller than you've ever seen him. His eyes fix on the half-finished Lego set on his coffee table — the Millennium Falcon he'd started weeks ago, now collecting dust mid-construction.

Three hundred pieces still sealed in their bags, waiting.

"Is it your mom?" you try, but Luigi shakes his head. "Is it school?" Another head shake. "Work?" No. "Was it your aunt Lisa again? That bitch—" He cuts you off with another shake. "Is it me?"

The question hangs there, and Luigi pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders, refusing to meet your eyes.

He lets out a long breath, knowing he's trapped himself here — in this moment, in this conversation, in this truth he's been avoiding.

No way out.

"What?" You cross the room in three quick strides, dropping beside him and tugging at the blanket he's using as camouflage. "What do you mean, Lu? C'mon." Your hands search for any part of him that isn't wrapped in fleece, but he's determined to stay hidden. "What did I do?"

Luigi's eyes catch yours for a fraction of a second before darting away. "I really just want to sleep." The words come out muffled as he tries to fold himself smaller, but you're faster, yanking the blanket down before he can disappear completely. "Please."

"Luigi.” Your voice cracks, and you don't try to hide it. You've never had to beg him for anything before, not in all your years of friendship. "I can't leave knowing you're upset with me." It's the rawest truth you have, stripped down to its bare bones on the couch cushions between you. "Come on. Talk to me."

The silence grows so thick you could suffocate in it, until Luigi finally breaks it with a mumble. "How come you only make jokes about fucking me?" His throat works visibly before he adds, "And not anyone else?"

The question hits you like a slap. Your eyes drift across his coffee table, taking inventory — the joint still smoldering in the ashtray, his anti-anxiety meds beside it, a forgotten Gatorade from the night before.

Everything a testament to hours spent alone with his thoughts.

You drag in a deep breath, searching for words you've never had to examine before. "I mean — that's what we do, you know-"

"No," he cuts you off, voice sharpened. "It's what you do."

"Lu." Your spine straightens as confusion settles in. "Why is this suddenly an issue? I've always- I've always made those kind of jokes about us. How everyone thinks we're dating all the time." You stretch yourself forward, trying to catch his eye, but he keeps his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor. "I just lean into it, I guess. I didn't know it bothered you."

He sighs, the sound muffled as he drags his hands down his face. "It doesn't bother me."

"Then," frustration bleeds into your voice as you throw your hands up, lost in whatever conversation he's having three steps ahead of you. "What do you fucking mean?"

"I- I mean-" His tongue clicks against his teeth, each word coming slow like he's translating from another language. "It doesn't bother me in that way."

"In what way?"

"In the way that means you saying you'd fuck me bothers me."

"But you just said it bothers you."

"No,” he says, “I didn't."

Heat rises up your neck as your patience frays.

Your mind twists itself into knots trying to decode whatever puzzle he's laying out between you. "Look at me." The command comes out sharper than intended as you try to yank the blanket away from him. "Fucking look at me!"

The blanket rips from your hands with unexpected force, sending you sprawling onto his hardwood floor. Your oversized sweater is the only thing saving your tailbone from a bruising. "You fucking asshole." The words come out hot as you fumble for your boots to put over the socks that betrayed you in their slipperiness, and just as you manage to wrangle one on, Luigi emerges from his cocoon, fixing you with a look that stops you cold.

"I mean I guess-“ He clears his throat, looking down at you with that familiar steady gaze, but there's something different layered over it now, something raw. "I mean- Why wouldn't you fuck me?"

The question hits like a fist to the cheekbones.

You freeze, one boot half-laced, mouth hanging open as heat floods you to your temples.

Of all the directions this could have gone, you never expected this brand of brutal honesty, delivered while you're sprawled ungracefully on his living room floor and wrestling with your shoelaces.

Your eyes dart between the coffee table and his face, pieces clicking together with nauseating clarity. "What kind of question is that?" The words come out sharp as your fingers hook uselessly around your boot laces.

"Well, what kind of joke is it to go around telling everyone we fuck?" He throws your logic back at you with devastating precision. "What's so funny about that?"

You bury your face in your hands, a groan muffled against your palms. Every memory floods back at once — all those times he tried to stop you from making dick jokes, all those moments people assumed you were dating and you played it up while he went quiet.

Six years of friendship viewed through this new lens makes your stomach lurch, and another heavy sigh tears from your chest.

"Can you at least tell me?" Luigi's voice comes out barely above a whisper, watching you curled up on his floor like a wounded animal.

You finally lift your head, meeting his stare head-on. "Do you want me to say I'd fuck you?"

The silence wraps around you both like a physical thing, but his eyes stay locked on yours even as color floods his cheeks. "Huh?" You arch an eyebrow, challenging. "Want me to say how hard I'd do it?" Your discarded boot connects with his shin. "How I know you whimper."

As if on cue, a small sound escapes him — half whine, half breath. He's still staring at you like you've knocked all the air from his lungs, struck speechless while you press your newfound advantage.

You move closer, settling between his knees as the blanket slips from his shoulders. With gentle pressure, you ease him back against the couch. "Want me to tell you how none of it was ever really a joke?" Your hand rests against his chest, feeling his heartbeat race beneath your palm. "How every time that you felt me push my ass against your dick wasn’t just your imagination?”

Luigi reaches for you then, fingers trembling as they find your skin — reverent and careful. He's always been tactile with you, always finding excuses to be close. He knows the map of your hands better than you do, how your breathing changes when you drift to sleep, all the little things that make you who you are. "I knew it," he whispers as you settle against him, both of you finally exactly where you're meant to be.

You'd spent so long pushing these thoughts away, rationalizing every touch as just his nature — absent patterns traced on your skin during movies, fingers intertwined during conversations, gentle pressure points mapped across your arms during lengthy lectures.

Each gesture filed away as mindless habit.

But this was different. Every point of contact now carried weight, intention.

"I'd fuck you too," Luigi murmurs, drawing you closer, face pressed against your sweater. His hands spread warm and steady across your back, holding you like something precious, something he's afraid might slip away. “And I’d whine as much as you wanted.”

The next week comes floating by once again, Cole hurrying beside you as you rush to your next lecture, desperately trying to untangle your earbuds, hearing Luigi’s voice echo in your mind, laughing at you for your resistance toward Bluetooth devices. “I - I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to-“

“I’m fucking Luigi.” You turn to Cole, your expression deadpan but fixed, serious but not all that concerned before the doors of the auditorium are flung open, and once again, you vanish behind them.

Cole bursts into a fit of giggles at the thought, realizing now that believing such a thing would be mean he was naive — he’s since learned from his mistakes. “Yeah.” He murmurs to himself, “And Cassie and Dylan are still dating.”

[kxsagi]

I always pronounce your name as Kissagi because you love Isagi so (Kiss Isagi) 😭

Also every time I see you post about Sae, I have to take a breath to not go feral cause he’s my favorite and it’s bad for my heart 😞

And to all the people thirsting about Sae, I love you all, I relate so hard like you have no clue– He takes up like 30% of my brain at all times (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝) I’ve made 3 playlists (about to be 4) for him and drawn him multiple times, guys help me–

~ 💜 anon

“𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞”

a/n: OMG I PRONOUNCE MY USER AS KISSAGI TOOOO like kiss isagi yessssss mwah mwah 💋💋💋

please don't be shy and share the playlists and drawings 😩 (only if you're comfortable!!)

also, for your kind message, take this sae drabble i had in my drafts ❤️

the rain isn’t heavy, but it’s persistent, enough to soak the hem of your jeans and leave misty streaks on your cheeks. the train station is quieter than usual, the fluorescent lights above humming with an indifferent buzz. you’re standing there like a character in a drama you never asked to star in, arms crossed over your chest, waiting for the person who always makes you wait in ways that aren't just about time. 

sae itoshi shows up five minutes late, umbrella tilted lazily over his shoulder, hair slightly tousled by the wind. he doesn’t apologize. of course he doesn’t. he just glances at you, lips pressed into that unreadable line, like your presence here is both expected and inexplicable. 

“you’re wet,” he says flatly. 

“great observation,” you reply, deadpan. “next you’ll tell me the sky is blue.” 

he doesn’t respond, just lifts the umbrella higher so it covers the two of you. his arm brushes against yours, barely, but you feel it like a spark anyway. 

you hate how calm he looks. you hate how he does this – appears in your life again like he never really left. one text. that’s all it took. “you still take the 7:15?” and you said yes. gosh, of course you said yes. 

“so… what is this?” you ask, voice low. “you miss my sarcasm or something?” 

his eyes move to yours then, slow and deliberate. sae’s always been like this – silent, heavy with meaning, like he communicates in pauses more than words. and you’ve known him long enough to read between them, even if it hurts. 

“i saw that photo,” he says finally. “the one with you and that guy.” 

you blink. “what?” 

“the one where he’s got his arm around you. you were smiling.” he says it without inflection, but there’s a sharpness to it, like he’s testing you. or himself. 

you cross your arms tighter. “so? people smile in photos.” 

sae looks away, jaw tight. “you looked happy.” 

“and that bothers you?” you ask, stepping half an inch closer. “why? because i moved on?” 

he doesn’t answer. just stands there, rain dripping off the edge of the umbrella like it’s marking time. you want to hit him and hug him at the same time. classic sae effect. 

finally, he says quietly, “i didn’t think i’d care. but i did.” 

that makes your heart thump in a way that makes you furious. you hated how he left things. always cool. always distant. always expecting you to read the fine print of his silences. 

“you could’ve said that months ago.” 

“i know.” 

“so why now?” 

he shrugs, but it’s not casual. nothing about him is, when it comes to you. “i thought if i gave you space, you’d forget me. or i’d forget you.” 

“did it work?” 

his eyes flick to yours again, sea-green and solemn. “no.” 

you should be angry. you should tell him it’s too late. that you’ve built a life without him. that you learned how to stop checking your phone every five minutes. but somehow, all you do is sigh. 

“i don’t know what you want from me, sae.” 

he’s quiet for a moment. the kind of quiet that aches. 

then he says, voice barely above a whisper, “i don’t want anything. i just… wanted to see you. make sure you’re still real.” 

your chest tightens. 

the train screeches in the distance, and the moment feels like it’s suspended between then and now, like you could choose to walk away and it would hurt, but it wouldn’t kill you. you’re not sure you could say the same for him. 

you glance up at him, still standing close, still sharing his umbrella with you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

“you don’t have to say anything,” he adds. “i know i messed it up.” 

your voice is softer now. “you did.” 

he nods. doesn’t try to defend himself. doesn’t move away either. 

but as the train pulls in and the wind gusts again, you feel his fingers graze yours under the umbrella – tentative, like he’s asking for a second chance without the pride or the words. 

and for some reason, you don’t pull away. 

not yet. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[matchpointfaist]

hii could you do an art donaldson rockstar au? not necessarily in a band with tashi or patrick like ive seen other fanfics but one where he's just in a band if that makes sense :')

ive been thinking about him as the underrated guitarist or drummer for a bit now shfhshd. maybe reader is a huge fan of the band and goes to a lot of shows idk

hope you find the time for this request and i love your fanfics xx

i'm just a teenage dirtbag baby, like you! 💿

rockstar! art x groupie! reader

tw for smut, drinking, drug mentions (indie sleaze art i love you)

the first time you'd seen art's band live, you'd been half drunk and unable to tear your eyes away from the bright blonde daydream of a guitarist. he was captivating in a way no one around you seemed to notice, pulling you into a trance with each movement of his fingers on the chords. the show was at a shitty dive bar littered with posters peeling from the walls and discarded cups decorating the floor, but he played like he was somewhere else, somewhere bigger. ever since that night, you found yourself seeking them out, snagging fliers from bars and asking around within your friend group. nearly every friday night, you found yourself at the edge of the stage, screaming along to the lyrics like you'd been a longtime fan. and each time, your eyes lingered on art, on his bright eyes and smug grin, like he knew he was the highlight of the evening. your friends kept pushing you to make a move, to make him see you among all the other girls in the crowd. eventually, you worked up enough liquid courage to try.

as their set ended, and you watched him unplug his guitar, the thought of approaching him pushed to the forefront of your mind. "hey!" you surprised even yourself by waving at him, feeling embarrassingly giddy when he turned to eye you curiously. "me?" he asked with one brow raised, resting his guitar against the amp. you just nodded, smiling in a way you hoped was sultry. "what's a pretty thing like you doin' talking to me?" his tone was light, teasing, as he jumped down off the stage, standing just inches from you. "i just wanted to say you guys are cool," you tried to ignore the heat in your stomach at the height difference between the two of you, "i've been coming to the last few shows," "i know," he grinned, "i've been wondering when you'd say something. what's your name, pretty?" you told him, unable to stop the flush from spreading across your face. "i like that," he hummed, "i'm art. art donaldson,"

you got swept up in the conversation, asking him a million questions about the band just to hear him speak, to watch his lips curl around the words. "little loud," he glanced up at the band that had taken the stage, "wanna get out of here?" you hesitated, but nodded anyway, following him as he grabbed two beers from the bar and led you to a side door, pushing it open with one arm as he held your drinks in the other. “you smoke?” he asked, handing you your drink as he fished a pack of cigarettes from his jean pocket. “yeah,” you nodded, watching as he placed one between his lips. he lit it with ease, taking a drag before passing it over to you, the smoke casting a fog over his features. “so how’d you like the show?” he asked, tipping his head back and letting it rest against the wall, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “oh, it was good,” you smiled, “i liked that cover you did, teenage dirtbag is a classic,” “yeah? you like that?” he grinned, watching you through lidded eyes, “hey, why don’t i show you our van? give you a little sneak peek into where the magic happens,” you knew it was bullshit, a plot to get you alone, but you went anyway, giggling as he pulled you along.

he made it through approximately two minutes of showing you around the equipment filling the back of the dingy black van before his lips were on yours, his hands fumbling with the door as he closed it behind you, laying you down on the floor of the vehicle. “god, you looked so pretty out there in the crowd,” he mumbled against your throat, littering it with kisses, “like watchin’ me, baby? hm?” “yeah,” you exhaled, your hands in his air, “yeah, i like it,” “my little groupie,” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, “you gonna let me fuck you in my bands van, hm?” you responded by pulling him back into a kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer as you pulled at his shirt. it grew more heated, needy sounds leaving the both of you as it got messier, more desperate, gnashing teeth and tongues laving at each others. he pulled away slowly, sitting up on his knees to look down at you, his pupils dilated as he traced the shape of your hips. “pretty thing,” he murmured, his voice thick and raspy. “want you,” you practically whined, reaching for him. he grinned, not even hesitating before pulling at the sheer tights you wore under your jean skirt. you gasped as you heard the material rip, swatting his hand, but relaxed as soon as his fingers slid beneath your underwear. “soaked for me,” he hummed, one hand on your clit and the other fumbling with his belt, undoing it clumsily and pushing down his jeans.

he pulled a condom from somewhere you didn’t even see, putting on with practiced ease before leaning down to kiss you sweet and slow, like he wasn’t about to fuck you in the back parking lot of a dive bar. “oh, art,” you gasped softly as he slipped inside of you, tentative and gentle at first, letting you adjust. “you feel so good, baby,” he mumbled in your ear, one hand resting lightly around your throat, the other busy between your thighs. as soon as you relaxed around him, he sped up, his thrusts getting rougher as you gasped and moaned beneath him. “there you go. fuckin take it,” he panted, his hand around your neck tightening just enough to have you clenching around him, “look so good, pretty,” you let out a mewl as he hit a particularly deep spot, your eyes rolling back. “god, art, right there,” you scratched at his back, nails snagging on the cotton of his beat up old t shirt, “m so close,” “let go f’me, i got you,” he panted, nearing the edge himself, “come on baby, show me,”

you came with a gasp of his name, your nails digging into his back hard enough to have him groaning as he filled the condom, his hips bucking. “oh, fuck,” he groaned, his head falling to your chest as he caught his breath, his hips stilling, “god, if i woulda known you felt that good i woulda called you out at the first show,” you smiled to yourself, humming, “well now we’ll just have to make this a regular thing,” he sat up, pulling out of you slowly and tying off the condom, tossing it, “yeah, maybe. i don’t really do the whole commitment thing, but i definitely wanna see you again,” you ignored the sting of rejection, sitting up and adjusting your skirt that he’d shoved up around your waist, “yeah, we can keep it casual. sounds good,” “you gonna come to my show next week?” he asked, passing you the clip that had fallen from your hair with a grin. “mhm,” you nodded, kissing his cheek, “wouldn’t miss it,” “just like i said, my little groupie,” he grinned, pulling you into a quick kiss, “here, i’ll even give you my number,” he made it sound like a favor, humming to himself as he typed it into your phone before passing it back, “get home safe, pretty girl,” “yeah, mkay,” you let him help you out of the van, straightening out your clothes. he reached around his neck, pulling at one of the necklaces before unfastening it. you furrowed your brows when he brushed the hair from your neck, putting it on you carefully. it was a short black chain, with a guitar pick dangling from it. “there ya go. somethin to remember me by till next week, hm? it’ll keep those other guys from messin with you,” “oh, thank you,” you smiled up at him, your fingers tracing the shape of it, “goodnight, art,” “night, baby,” he pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your head, patting your ass with a grin as he waved you off.

the next week, you were front and center, a fresh pair of tights for him to rip and his necklace dangling on your chest, right above the neck of your low cut top. his eyes fell to the shirt, his pupils dilating when he saw his band name etched across of it, homemade merch just for him. yeah, he’d have to be sure not to tear that off of you later.

[moonstruckme]

this is such a specific request and i’m back and forth about making it because it feels silly but i’m so in love with the way you write james i had to take a chance. i had a bad experience going down on a guy once and i just can’t enjoy it since, but guys often aren’t very understanding about it. i was wondering if you’d write something with james and reader where she doesn’t enjoy it (and it doesn’t have to be for the reason i stated, any reason is fine!), and he’s being such a sweetheart about it. no worries if this request is too much!

Thank you for requesting <3

cw: smut mdni

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 634 words

When James’ head disappears beneath the covers for a second time, your guilt catches up with you. 

You lift up the sheets. You can’t lie to yourself, it’s an alluring sight—James looking up from where he’d been kissing under your navel, long lashes fluttering in happy surprise and one big hand already wrapped securely around your thigh. His lips stay half an inch from your skin.

You decide to drop the sheets rather than tire your arms holding them up. They bubble you in there with him, the morning light filtering through and casting you both half in shadow. 

“Hey,” you say awkwardly.

James’ smile splits his face. “Hi, there.” He finishes what he started, kissing the skin below your navel tenderly. “Nice of you to join me down here.” 

“Thought I should see what you seemed so interested in,” you joke. 

He squeezes your thigh roughly. “It’s quite the view, as you can see.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh half-heartedly. “Sure.” 

Something on your face must give you away. James’ hand smooths out on your thigh. He presses a kiss to the inside, gentle but enough to make your nerves jump. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t think you should do this,” you blurt. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, and, um, we should probably go back to doing other things.” 

James makes no move other than to distance his lips from your leg. “Okay,” he says simply. “If you don’t feel like it anymore, that’s fine. Do you not want me to touch you?” 

“No, it’s—it’s not you.” You give him a little smile, aiming for reassuring. “You’re fine. I just don’t think we should do oral.” 

He blinks. “You don’t think we should or you don’t want to?” 

“I don’t think we should.” Because trust me, I want to. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let you do it the first time. I can’t—or not can’t, I just don’t want to reciprocate.” The confession tumbles out of you like yarn unspooled. “Sorry. I really don’t like blowjobs.” 

“Oh.” It appears to take James a few seconds to process this. When he does, his expression isn’t what you anticipated. He smiles crookedly, eyebrows scrunching like he’s caught between bemusement and humor. “Sweetheart, you could have just said that. That’s alright.” 

You give him a weak smile. “Thanks for being cool about it. I know I should’ve told you earlier, it just…I got caught up, and it felt really good.” You feel your face heating and drop your gaze. “Anyway, it was selfish. Sorry to lead you on.” 

“What? Angel.” James gives your thigh a little shake. “I mean I don’t mind. Really, I’ll eat you out either way. It’s not just so you’ll give me something in return.” 

Now it’s your turn to blink. “What do you mean?” 

He gives you a half-lidded look, both knowing at teasing. “I mean that I like doing this. And even if I didn’t, you hardly forced me. You didn’t promise me anything. You’re allowed to do—or not do—whatever you like.” 

“You’re serious?” You glean from James’ expression that you must look as shocked as you feel. “You really don’t care? You’d tell me if you did, right?” 

He grins, kissing again the sensitive skin inside your thigh. “Yeah, honey. I promise I’d tell you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” 

He laughs. “No problem. So do you mind if I keep going now? If you want me to stop, that’s okay too.” 

“Um.” You rub your lips together, looking down at him. James waits patiently, but his palm starts moving up and down your thigh, a soothing touch that leaves a trail of heat in its wake. “Sure. If you don’t mind.” 

He holds eye contact with you as he lowers his head. His breath is hot on your cunt. “Not at all.”

[oceannote]

Seventeen Reaction—Him saying 'I love you' for the first time. (Hyung Line)

Note from author: My lovessss, the feedback on my previous one was soooooo good that now I have 101 ideas for these, so here is a little something longer for you guys. Hope you will enjoy🤍🤍 Summary: OT13's saying I love you for the first time in their relationship. Warnings: Established relationship

1️⃣ S.Coups:

You were sick, the can’t-even-stand-up kind of sick, where everything from your head to your stomach throbbed in waves and the screen on your phone looked like a blurry mess of meaningless colours. You hadn’t expected your super busy idol boyfriend to drop everything, his packed schedule, rehearsals, meetings, and all … to show up at your apartment like a one-man rescue squad.

But here he was. Choi Seungcheol, dressed in sweats and a cap pulled low over his eyes, sitting cross-legged on your bed and literally spoon-feeding you warm chicken soup he made himself. You could smell the ginger and garlic, comforting, healing. And him? He looked a mix of focused, annoyed, and oddly soft.

“Yah, Cheol…” you murmured hoarsely, your voice cracking against your sore throat. “You don’t have to baby me this much, seriously.”

You tried to push his hand away, half-heartedly, barely lifting your arm, but the full spoon hovered stubbornly in front of your mouth.

“Eat. And stop giving me an attitude.” he said with no room for negotiation, nudging the spoon gently against your closed lips.

You gave in, swallowing the warm broth slowly, even though every muscle in your face protested. You sighed. “I feel like shit… and now I made you come all the way here. I shouldn’t have told you I was sick. That was dumb.”

That hit him the wrong way.

He dropped the spoon into the bowl with a loud clink and placed it on the nightstand, already cluttered with tissues, cough drops, and a half-empty bottle of water, with a bit more force than necessary.

His expression shifted.

“You really know how to piss me off when you talk like that.” His voice was low and sharp, eyes locked on yours, serious, unwavering. “Do you honestly think I’d just stay busy while knowing you’re lying here, dizzy, shaking, and not eating?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he leaned in closer, his elbow resting on the bed beside you, his face just inches from yours now.

“I love you.” His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “So much that the idea of you going through this alone makes my chest feel like it’s being crushed.”

You blinked, stunned, not by the words themselves, but by the weight of them. You knew he cared. You knew he was protective. But this? This was the first time he’d said it out loud.

He noticed your silence and continued, softer this time.

“Don’t act like you're a burden. You're not. You're mine, and I show up for the people I love. Especially you.”

You swallowed hard, eyes stinging, but it wasn’t the fever this time.

“…You love me?” You croaked.

He exhaled, reaching to tuck a strand of sweaty hair from your forehead. “Yeah. I thought that was obvious already.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “But I guess you needed to hear it, huh?”

You nodded, barely able to speak.

“Now shut up and eat your soup,” he said gently, bringing the spoon back to your lips. “I’m not leaving until you feel like yourself again.”

And you knew he meant it.

2️⃣ Jeonghan:

It was late evening, the golden hour long gone, and the park had grown quiet, lit only by the warm glow of scattered lampposts and the faint hum of distant city noise. Jeonghan’s arm rested comfortably over your shoulders, your fingers laced with his as you strolled slowly through the cool air.

“You’re so dumb,” you said between bursts of laughter, playfully bumping his side. “How could you even say that to him with a straight face?”

Jeonghan grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he looked down at you like he was the proudest man alive.

“I just have a natural talent for persuasion,” he said with mock seriousness. “People believe me when I say things. It’s a gift.” Then, without warning, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, casual, but lingering just enough to make your heart flutter.

“For sureee,” you drawled sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his smug tone.

That’s when he smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Yah,” he said, bumping your shoulder gently. “You’d cry if I told you I loved you.”

Your laughter faded ever so slightly, the teasing grin still frozen on your face, but your heart… it skipped. Just once, but loud enough to echo in your ears.

You looked up at him, intending to fire back with another sarcastic remark, but stopped short when you saw his expression change. His gaze locked with yours, and for a moment, something shifted in the air between you, like the pause before a song’s final note.

He stopped walking, hand still in yours. His smile faltered just a little. “I mean…” he began, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. His eyes flicked away for the briefest second before returning to yours. “I do.”

You blinked. “What?”

A nervous chuckle escaped him, something rare, something genuine. His free hand moved up to scratch the back of his neck, his signature flustered tell.

“I do love you,” he repeated, this time without teasing, without the playful glint. “No games. No drama.” He swallowed, the moment hitting him as hard as it did you. “I really, really love you.”

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. But it was real. And for someone like Jeonghan, always toeing the line between mischief and charm, this was him being completely unguarded.

You stood there in the quiet path, the world briefly narrowing to just the two of you. His fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours, as if silently asking you to say something, anything, but also okay if you didn’t.

Because for once, he wasn’t trying to win. He was just trying to be honest.

3️⃣ Joshua:

You arrived at your boyfriend’s apartment in a quiet rush, breath shallow with anticipation. The hours felt like sand slipping through your fingers, only a few remained before Joshua would fly to the States for a music video shoot. You let yourself in with the spare key he’d shyly handed to you just under two weeks ago, his thumb brushing your palm when he placed it there, murmuring, "Use it whenever you need me."

You stepped into the apartment expecting him to greet you like always, waiting barefoot by the hallway with that soft smile and open arms. But this time… nothing. The space was still. Quiet. Almost unusually so. Just a warm, dim light spilled from the living room, casting long, gentle shadows on the walls.

“Joshua? Babe?” you called out, slipping off your shoes, your voice echoing a little too much in the silence. “Are you here?”

Still no answer. You padded softly toward the light.

What met you in the living room stopped you cold.

There, on the couch, sat a beautiful handcrafted wooden basket, overflowing with items that tugged immediately at your memory. Around fifteen or twenty balloons floated gently above, tethered by strings, each string held a small, square photo clipped delicately onto it. Pictures of you and Joshua: laughing over street food, asleep on his shoulder during a movie night, holding hands in the reflection of a cafe window.

You felt your breath catch.

Your feet moved toward the couch without thought, drawn in by the overwhelming intimacy of it all. Your fingers hovered over the contents of the basket, your chest tightening as you noticed your favorite moisturizer, your go-to ramen flavor, your comfort tea blend, even a fresh tin of ceremonial matcha complete with a bamboo whisking set, the exact one you’d once pointed out in a shop window, only half-joking.

You were so wrapped up in it, you didn’t even hear the front door open. Or the soft steps behind you. Not until a pair of arms slid gently around your waist from behind, pulling you into a familiar warmth.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your hand clutching your chest. “You scared me.”

You turned to find Joshua’s face, all dimples and starlight, that boyish grin lighting him up from the inside out.

“Sorry,” he murmured, brushing a kiss over your temple. “You like it?”

You looked at him, eyes wide and full. “Joshua, it’s… it’s beautiful. But what is all this?”

He took your hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles before turning it over and holding it between both of his.

“I know I’ll be gone for a while,” he said softly, thumb grazing over your skin, “and I hated the thought of you missing me and feeling lonely here… so I wanted to make sure that if you stayed, you’d still feel like you. Like this place was still warm, still full of your little comforts.”

He motioned toward the basket. “I remembered all the stuff you love. Even the tea you drink when you’re stressed… I wanted you to feel like home was still here.”

You blinked, heart swelling so full you didn’t know where to put the feeling. “Babe, this is too much. I can’t just…”

“Don’t even start,” he said, waving a hand in the air with a smile. Then, slowly, his expression softened. His voice dropped, quiet and steady, his eyes fixed on yours like he was afraid to miss a single second of your reaction.

“I really do love you, Y/N,” he said.

Time stopped.

“I love you. And I want you to feel at home in my home… because that’s exactly what you’ve made me feel since the day we met.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. The air between you shimmered, delicate and fragile and impossibly real.

4️⃣ Jun:

The flight had just taken off toward Shenzhen, and to your surprise, the cabin was quieter than expected. A handful of other passengers occupied the business class section, which gave the whole space a soft, calm energy. You weren’t complaining. Between the plush seats, warm lighting, and Jun sitting just one divider away, things felt oddly peaceful, like a hidden pocket of the world that belonged just to the two of you.

Getting here, though? Chaos.

Dating Jun for the past three months had been more than anything you could’ve dreamed of, sweet, thrilling, a little surreal. But it also meant dealing with the quiet storm of secrecy that came with being in a relationship with someone constantly under public scrutiny. Getting through the airport without being recognized had taken careful planning, disguises, separate entrances, decoy staff. Honestly, it had felt more like a spy movie than a trip for a photoshoot.

“You good, babe?” Jun’s voice broke through the silence, soft and laced with concern. It came from just beyond the seat divider between you.

You pressed the button that lowered the partition and turned to look at him. His eyes met yours immediately, warm and attentive.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied with a reassuring smile, reaching across the small space to squeeze his hand. “Just… a little nervous to meet your parents.”

Jun winced playfully, lips pulling into a tight smile. “Ahh, yeah. Sorry about that. I know it’s a lot, especially this early on. But I didn’t want you just waiting around in a hotel room while I was off doing the shoot. It didn’t feel right.”

Your smile softened. “I don’t mind, really. I’d wait for you for ages if you needed me to.”

Something flickered across his face at your words, a look that passed so quickly you almost missed it. It wasn’t surprise, exactly. More like something in him had been seen, understood, and it showed in the way his gaze suddenly dropped, shy and thoughtful.

He didn’t say anything. Just gently brought your hand to his lap and held it there, fingers laced.

About an hour drifted by. You both spoke in that quiet, easy rhythm that only people truly comfortable with each other can fall into. Talk of schedules, weekend cravings, a practice video on Jun’s phone that had you laughing until your sides hurt. Sometimes you talked. Sometimes you didn’t. But even in silence, your fingers stayed intertwined over the seat divider, a little rebellion against the world that had made you hide.

“Thank you again, babe.” Jun said suddenly, voice low, as he lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“For what?” you asked, eyes scanning his expression.

“For coming with me on this trip,” he said, his eyes meeting yours in that full, sincere way of his. “I know you had to move a lot of things around. Work. Meetings. Everything.”

“Jun…” You shook your head gently, your thumb brushing against the back of his hand. “You don’t have to thank me. If anything, I should be the one thanking you, for letting me be part of this side of your life.”

He was quiet for a moment. The cabin lights dimmed slightly as if giving the moment a stage.

Jun shifted a little in his seat and looked down, then back at you, this time more hesitant, more exposed.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately,” he started, voice softer than before. “And I don’t want to freak you out or rush anything but… I love you.”

The words hung in the air, not loud, but clear, like he’d been holding them in for a while, trying to find the exact right moment, and finally realizing that maybe there was no such thing. Just the right person.

Your breath caught slightly. Not because you hadn’t felt it too, you had, but because hearing it out loud from someone like Jun, who thought so deeply before he spoke, who held things close to his chest… It meant something.

Your heart was racing, but your voice came out steady.

“Jun…” you whispered, eyes stinging in the best way. “I love you too.”

The smile that bloomed across his face wasn’t his usual stage grin, it was something softer, more vulnerable. He brought your hand up again, this time pressing a kiss to your palm, then resting it against his cheek.

“Good,” he murmured with a small, breathy laugh. “That’s… really good.”

5️⃣ Hoshi:

Hoshi was driving you home after your date night, the car still echoing with laughter and the occasional sarcastic jab as you both recounted your chaotic escape room adventure.

“Yah, you should be thanking me,” he said, eyes flicking between the road and you, a wide grin stretched across his face. “If it weren’t for me, we’d still be in there, dusting the floor with our jackets and sniffing around for clues like detectives in a bad drama.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Thank you?! Hoshi, the clue was right in front of your face and you still managed to walk past it three times.”

He gasped dramatically. “Okay, wow. There were like, 500 things on that board. How was I supposed to know it was that one weird riddle we needed?” he replied, turning the wheel with a flourish as he entered your street.

“You literally could have all the answers handed to you and still miss the most obvious one,” you said, smirking as you turned your head to face him.

He glanced over, already looking at you. But this time, the usual teasing glint in his eyes was replaced with something softer, a quiet kind of intensity. His gaze lingered, and for a second, everything in the car went still. The playful air settled into something warm. Familiar. Different.

Then the car slowed to a stop in front of your apartment building.

“Well, here you are, miss,” he said, slipping back into character with a mock-posh accent. “Back at your royal quarters.”

You smiled, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Thanks, babe,” you said, leaning across the console with a playful pout.

Hoshi met you halfway, lips brushing yours in a kiss that was supposed to be brief… but the moment it ended, he was already chasing another.

“One more,” he murmured, catching your lips again, and again. Each kiss lingered a little longer, held a little more.

You laughed against his mouth. “Hosh, I really have to go,” you said breathlessly, pulling back just enough to reach for the door handle.

But before you could step out, his hand gently grabbed yours.

“Wait,” he said, and this time, his voice had none of the usual flair or teasing. It was just him, raw, unfiltered.

“I love you. Like… seriously. I really love you.”

Your heart stopped for a beat, caught between the familiar warmth of his laughter and the weight of his words.

He blinked, suddenly sheepish but not backing down. “I didn’t plan to say it like that. But I’ve been thinking it for a while. Tonight just… made it impossible not to say it.”

You stared at him, a soft smile forming on your lips as your fingers squeezed his gently.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

His face lit up in a way that made your chest ache, like he had just won a prize he didn’t even realize he was scared of losing.

“Now,” he grinned, confidence back in full force, “that was the real clue I’ve been looking for all night.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him again, just once more, before stepping out of the car with your heart full.

6️⃣ Wonwoo:

“Maybe if we put the pillows up there instead of at the bottom of the blanket, we could see the stars better,” Wonwoo says, crouching beside the blanket he just spread across the park hill. He points up toward the slope behind your heads like he’s mapping out constellations.

You glance over at him, amused. “The stars will look the same from every angle, babe,” you reply, your hands busy digging through his backpack for the snacks you both brought.

“Yes,” he hums thoughtfully, already settling into position with his head tilted downhill, “but we’ll be upside down and you’ll get nauseous. You always do.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I don’t always.”

“Mm. You do,” he says with a quiet grin, the kind that makes his cheekbones rise and his eyes nearly disappear. He pats the space next to him without looking.

You sigh with a smile, give in, and lie down beside him, head resting against his chest, your leg brushing against his. His arm moves naturally around your shoulders, and his fingers find yours without needing to search.

The breeze flows gently through the rustling trees around the edge of the park, cool but not cold. Somewhere in the distance, a car horn sounds and then fades away, leaving you both in the stillness again. The only thing you hear clearly now is the soft rhythm of his heartbeat, pulsing under your cheek. It’s faster than usual.

“You okay?” you murmur, eyes on the stars that pepper the sky like salt on black velvet.

“Yeah,” he says, but there’s a beat of hesitation in his voice. “Why?”

“You just feel… tense.”

He doesn’t answer right away. You can feel his gaze on you, his eyes watching the way your fingers absentmindedly trace along his knuckles. But you don’t press. You know him well enough by now to let him take his time.

A long sigh leaves his chest, and then his voice comes low, quieter than usual. “You know… since my mom passed, I’ve found myself looking up more. At the stars, I mean. It’s strange. I never really noticed them before.”

You squeeze his hand gently, your voice soft but steady. “She’s up there now. I imagine there’s some peace in that. Knowing she’s watching over you.”

He nods against the blanket. “Yeah. It’s peaceful… but also kind of lonely.”

You don’t rush to fill the silence that follows. It stretches between you like a bridge, not uncomfortable, just open. His fingers tighten slightly around yours, then loosen again.

Then, after another quiet breath, he says it, like it’s been sitting behind his ribs for months, waiting for the right moment to break free.

“I don’t say things like this lightly,” he starts, and you can feel his chest rise with the effort. “But I love you.”

It’s not dramatic. He doesn’t sit up or turn to look at you. He just says it into the air, like a truth he no longer wants to hold inside.

You blink up at the stars, heart catching in your throat.

And then, slowly, you tilt your face up toward his.

“I know,” you whisper. “I love you too.”

He smiles down at you, not with his lips, but with his eyes, the kind of smile that lingers even after you’ve stopped looking.

7️⃣ Woozi:

You’d been dating Woozi for a little over three months now, three full months of proudly carrying the “girlfriend” title like a badge of honour. In that time, you’d spent more hours curled up in his studio than you had at your own family’s home in the past three years. It had almost become routine: late nights on the cold leather couch, your legs tucked under you, scrolling on your phone while he hovered over his laptop or piano, trying to push through creative blocks. You never minded. Being near him, even in silence, always felt right.

Still, there was one thing you couldn’t help but notice.

Woozi had never said “I love you.” Not once.

You didn’t doubt his feelings. Not even a little. He showed them in his own quiet, thoughtful way, pulling you closer when you shivered, placing your favourite snack on the desk without a word, walking you home even if it meant doubling back in the freezing cold. He showed love, but never spoke it.

And for a man who pours his emotions into lyrics and sings them before thousands of screaming fans, he was… oddly guarded when it came to saying anything about how he felt.

That’s when it hit you again, like it always did, as you sat back in your usual spot, legs folded, scrolling absently on your phone while Woozi worked silently, fingers dancing over his MIDI keyboard.

Then, out of the blue:

“Should we get some food?”

His voice was soft but cut through the quiet of the room like a snare hit. You blinked, looking up from your phone.

“I mean, I’m not really hungry,” you replied, eyes still half-focused on your screen, “but if you want something, I can go grab it for you.”

There was a pause.

“…You’d go get food just for me?” he asked, a subtle smile in his voice.

You glanced up to find him fully turned toward you, one eyebrow lifted, arms resting casually over the back of his chair.

“Yeah?” you said with a soft laugh. “Why’s that so surprising?”

He leaned back in his chair slightly, squinting at you as if trying to read something between the lines of your face.

“I don’t know. It’s just…” he trailed off, thoughtful. “Why would you go out of your way like that? Just for me.”

You tilted your head. “Because you’re my boyfriend? And I deeply care about you? Isn’t that… kinda how it works?”

He laughed under his breath, but there was something different in his expression now. Not amusement. Something softer. Maybe even a little vulnerable.

Woozi turned fully toward you and rested his elbows on his knees, fidgeting slightly with the hem of his sleeve, a rare crack in his normally composed demeanour.

“I know I’m not the best at saying things,” he admitted quietly. “You probably noticed that by now.”

You gave him a gentle look. “I mean… it’s crossed my mind.”

He exhaled a small chuckle. “Figures.”

There was a stretch of silence then, not awkward, but full. Like he was weighing every word carefully before letting it go. His fingers tapped against the armrest, eyes flicking to you and back down to the floor.

Then:

“I think about it a lot. Saying it. But then I overthink it, and it gets stuck in my throat.”

You blinked slowly, your heart catching a little in your chest.

“Saying what?”

He looked at you then. Really looked. No smirk, no guardedness. Just him.

“That I love you.”

The room felt suddenly too still. Like the world paused to let those words echo.

You sat there, stunned for a moment, warmth rising in your chest and blooming all the way to your fingertips.

“I… I wasn’t waiting for you to say it,” you whispered, smiling gently. “But I’m really happy you did.”

Woozi gave a tiny, almost embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I should’ve said it earlier,” he murmured. “You’ve been here for me more times than I can count, and I… I just didn’t want to say it before I was sure I meant it the way you deserve to hear it.”

You stood from the couch and walked over to him, wrapping your arms gently around his shoulders as he stayed seated. His hands instinctively found your waist.

“You always show it,” you said against his hair. “But… it means a lot to hear it too.”

He pulled back just enough to look up at you, cheeks faintly flushed.

“Then I’ll start saying it more,” he said with a quiet smile.

“I love you.”

This time, it came easier.

And you knew he meant every word.

[cowboygenesis]

11: super silver haze | kylo ren x reader

part 11 of the "bump it, cool it" series: masterlist. | playlist

pairing: [modern!au] kylo ren x reader chapter warnings: TONS of explicit language, loud arguments, smoking (weed) (like, a lot). word count: 6.6k series summary: when your roommate’s older brother needs a place to crash, you begrudgingly offer up your couch— only to realize he’s the most insufferable, entitled asshole you’ve ever met. the worst part? you can’t seem to stop thinking about him. notes: holy shit you guys. this was a doozy, but we're finally climbing the precipice and inching toward the long-awaited CLIMAX. literally kicked my feet and giggled writing this, so ya'll. i pray i did this scene the justice it deserves. please let me know what you think, and as always, thank you so much for reading and supporting me ♥

Now Playing: Sunday Sermon - Booker T. & the M.G.'s

The room rolls with warmth, heavy with the scent of grape juice and resin. As you exhale, a thin stream of smoke flows through the dimness, rippling with technicolor.

“And what?” Poe utters lazily as you hand him the joint, his dark waves kept neat with a headband. “ He said no?”

“Dude, are you even listening?” Finn reprimands from the kitchen, shaking a pot against the stove. The smell of artificial butter fills the room, making your mouth water. “He said—”

“Not like this.” you cut your friend off, sinking into your velvet beanbag with an exasperated sigh as you recall those forbidden words. You’re uncertain if it’s sentiment or just the high, but the pit in your stomach makes you nauseated the second you’re reminded of the party.

You flip your head to the side, lazily meeting Poe’s gaze. His lips curl into that usual, half-hearted smile while he ponders your predicament.

“Such a romantic,” he finally shrugs, and you can’t quite tell if he’s being serious or not. His smile drops, and he looks at you in question. “Can I say that?”

You roll your eyes and tug at the strings of your sweatshirt. The broad hood contracts, trapping your scowling face within. “Whatever.”

“Whatever?” Finn echoes as he reenters the living room, holding a fresh bowl of popcorn. He sets it down on the low coffee table before joining you and Poe on the ground. When you peek your nose out to eye the men’s curious faces, you realize you’re not hungry anymore.

“I think I’m over it,” you finally sigh, leaning back against the beanbag as your friends begin shoveling into the kernels.

Poe snorts, chewing thoughtfully as you withdraw from your hood. “You’re absolutely not over it.”

“Uh-huh,” you scoff at his denial, mindlessly taking the joint from Finn’s hand when he passes it your way. Only a charred nub is left, but you bring it to your lips, anyway. As you inhale, you cringe at the heightened burn settling in your throat. “I want to be.”

The man quirks a brow, picking unpopped kernels from his palm and flicking them into the plastic trashcan. “Do you?”

The question settles into your swirling gut like a weight, making you groan in displeasure—because, after all, you don’t know the answer.

After finding out the story behind Sienna, you thought you had it all figured out. Kylo’s arrival, his inexplicable moods, and why he refused to be anything but a massive pain in your ass.

Except you knew that wasn’t all. This innocent crush you developed on your best friend’s older brother eventually blossomed into something completely untameable, and now? You felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.

You craved the lingering gazes, the teasing, his bold touches. You wanted to be around him, become the object of his attention. But you didn’t love him. It was a strong, terrifying word that neither of you were ready for.

But you did hate him.

You hated how he’d treat you like a confidant, only to pull away just as you found joy in the position. How he smiled so wide, then scowled with twice the force.

You hated how he made you feel wanted, just to choose the other woman.

“When is he moving out, by the way?” Finn pipes up, knocking you out of your rumination. When you turn toward him, he gives you a raised brow. You must have been scowling.

“I don’t know,” you utter quietly, relaxing your expression to calm any suspicion. “He’s not made any progress.”

“Wait,” Poe shakes his head in confusion, leaning over the coffee table to reach for the rolling papers. “Remind me why he’s crashing at yours in the first place?”

You sigh, toying with the beanbag’s loose threads as your friend fills his plastic grinder. “He’s moving. Or, he wants to move.”

“Can’t blame him one bit,” Finn groans, leaning back against the front of the couch. “Can you imagine living with your ex after finding out they cheated? Seeing them every day?”

“It’s so much worse than that,” you explain, earning looks from your two friends. You bite your bottom lip, gaze dropping to your lap. “He walked in on them.”

Finn stops mid-chew, while Poe’s jaw drops in shock. He quirks a brow at you as if disbelieving in the disrespect. “Dude.”

“Yeah, dude,” you laugh joylessly, crossing your arms. The image of Kylo’s sunken features plagues your mind, replaying that same conversation like a hellish mantra. You’re unsure if the pit in your stomach comes from anger or sympathy.

“But, I mean…” Finn trails, scooping another handful of popcorn. “In their own bedroom, too?”

Your lips flatten, glimpsing into the distance mournfully as you nod. The two men shake their heads in joined disbelief.

“Christ,” Poe mutters, continuing with his new joint. “No wonder the guy’s such a jackass.”

“Poe,” Finn reprimands, making his friend raise his hands defensively.

“Sorry, but it’s true!” he utters dramatically, gesturing toward you with bud-stained digits. “No matter how bad you’ve had it, you don’t just… You don’t just get to shove your grief onto other people. That’s not how it works.”

A silence follows, filled only by the muffled sound of 90’s hip-hop emitting from a small JBL speaker.

You want to be mad, but inexplicably, you’re not. The pit in your stomach expands, blooming into something soft around the edges and gooey in the center. You know it’s not hatred.

“Oh, god,” Poe gasps dramatically, making you meet his gaze with confusion. “You don’t blame him.”

Your eyes widen, matching the frustrated scowl lining your features. You shake your head in denial, but it comes a second too late for authenticity. “Poe—”

“I think you might even be empathizing with that motherfucker,” he trails loudly, watching your lips tighten once more. You’ve got nothing to say in defense, and your friend catches onto that immediately with the emerging curl of his mouth. “Holy shit, don’t tell me—”

“Stop,” you groan, rubbing your face into the meat of your palms. “I’m serious, Poe, I can’t handle this shit ri—”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to make any progress,” Finn cuts you off, making the two of you stop your bickering and face him with quirked brows.

You sigh, curbing your frustration before speaking again. “Go on.”

“I think he means that—”

“What I mean,” Finn gruffs out, shooting a sharp scowl toward Poe, “is he wants to stay.”

The latter nods severely, eyes wide as he speaks through a mouthful of kernels. “With you.”

You scoff, head shaking as you scan their expressions. Somehow, the conversation has sobered you up enough to realize they’re not fucking with you.

“Nonsense, I mean—that makes no sense.” you chuckle sardonically, hands twitching at your sides. “Right?”

The two men look at each other knowingly, then you.

“I don’t know,” Finn shrugs, tapping to the rhythm of the song that plays. “He’s hot and stacked. I don’t see how he’d have an issue finding something suitable.”

Poe scoffs, licking the joint shut at last. “I couldn’t couch surf for this long.”

Just as you’re about to speak, Finn cuts him off with a burst of disbelieving chuckles.

“Dude, except you have,” he reprimands. “Remember your Eurotrip? Berlin?”

Poe sucks his cheeks in with a hum, thinking for a moment before facing his friend with a pointed finger. “Don’t talk to me about Berlin.”

You sigh, leaning into your beanbag once more. Your friends’ conversation melts into the background, letting you clear your mind.

“He rejected me,” you finally shrug, voice low. “Plain and simple.”

“In his defence,” Finn purses his lips, placing the plastic bowl to the side. You watch him shift onto the couch, hands locked. “You could interpret those words in a dozen different ways.”

“I haven’t seen him since the party,” you sigh in exasperation, flailing a hand in the air. “He’s completely MIA.”

Poe nods in acknowledgment, placing the filter between his lips and palming the floor for his lighter. The other man focuses on you, eyeing the nervous way you drum your thigh.

“Does Rey know?” he finally questions, making you knit your brows. As if.

“He doesn’t tell Rey anything. When he leaves, it’s a compl—”

“No, I mean,” Finn cuts you off softly, swallowing thickly as he ponders over an appropriate way to address the concern. Poe watches him curiously, burning the tip of the rolling paper off.

“Does Rey know about your…” The man on the couch begins anew, fiddling with his digits. “Problem?”

Poe scoffs between inhales, motioning toward you lazily.

“It’s not a problem, she’s just horny.”

“Ugh,” you scowl, feigning nonchalance as your cheeks burn red at the bold statement. If only it weren’t true. “Stop saying that.”

“What?” he taunts, bloodshot eyes narrowed as he curls his lips into a devilish smirk. “Horny?”

“Alright,” you raise your palms defensively, quickly rocking your way out of the beanbag. As you stand, the two men glance up at you with worry. “I’m out.”

“Hey, I was kidding!” Poe cries out, shuffling to stand up. He does so haphazardly, swearing under his breath as he loses balance and stumbles into Finn’s knee.

“It’s not that,” you explain quietly, the weight of your anxiety knocking all humor out of the situation. “I promised Rey I’d take her suit to dry cleaning. She’s got some company event next week.”

While spending quality time with friends was generally a great way to get over a dumb crush, you suddenly dreaded needing to answer more pressing questions. You needed air, stat.

“Is she out of town?” Finn questions, his sudden interest making you smile joylessly.

“For a few days,” you nod with a shrug. “Seeing family again.”

Poe mutters something under his breath as he finally stumbles upwards, meeting you with a wild grin. “So it’s just you and Kylo at ho—”

“Zip it,” you warn smoothly, pointing a digit his way. “I’m so serious.”

“Alright, alright!” the man raises his hands in a dramatic display of defeat, sighing to steady his posture. His face shifts into something more sympathetic, dark eyebrows high on his forehead. “Want me to drive you?”

“You’d be a health hazard in your current state.” Finn scoffs from the couch, earning a lazy eye roll from his friend.

“At least I have a license.”

“I’ll take the subway,” you reassure with a polite smile, approaching the foyer to grab your jacket from the hangers before another argument erupts. “It’s chill.”

Poe trails after you, one hand in his pocket while the other wields the joint. “Suit yourself, baby.”

You whip your head toward him with furrowed brows and a smile, head tilted as you slide your shoes on. Even in the most off-beat moments, you’re reminded of Kylo Ren. “Is that a Jersey thing?”

Poe quirks a brow, his eyes narrowing like he’s trying to interpret a foreign language. “I’m not Jersey.”

You shake your head with a tart chuckle, reaching to pat your friend’s stubble-riddled cheek. You lean back, issuing Finn a quick wave. “See you.”

You hitch your bag on your shoulder and walk out the door, hearing Finn snickering from inside. “Stay safe, you two!”

“Don’t make me come back in there!” you yell back half-heartedly, earning another fit of giggles from the two men before the door finally slams shut.

As you descend the staircase, your smile shifts into a deep frown.

୨ৎ

You watch the pristinely ironed pantsuit with narrowed eyes, peeking at you behind a thin layer of protective plastic. It hangs from the curtain rod, swaying in the soft breeze like a business-casual ghost as you lean your back against the balcony railing.

You inhale the bittersweet resin, letting it warm your lungs before hurling it into a swirl of smoke. The Meters play softly from inside the apartment, elevating your approaching high.

If it were any other circumstances, you’d reprimand yourself for choosing another joint over sobriety. But today was special.

You were mourning the death of your fixation.

On your treacherous way home on the subway, you thought about facing Kylo again. It was there, squeezed between two other passengers at rush hour, that you had reached an epiphany.

Even now, it makes your throat burn with acid as you strain your eyes against the doorway of your home.

While you haven’t seen Kylo in over twenty-four hours, something primal made you feel like the meeting was approaching steadily. Then, once it was time, you’d finally tell him your feelings.

You’d tell Kylo Ren you hated his guts.

You twist around, resting your elbows against the cold balustrade. Your quaint neighborhood lies just below, humming with occasional passersby. In the distance lies the heart of the city, looming brightly over the watercolor-stained horizon.

As you puff smoke through your teeth, the front door clicks open.

Your jaw tightens, eyes wide when you realize you’re left no time to prepare. The sun has just begun to set, meaning he shouldn’t be home for another few hours. You bite worry your lip between your teeth. This wasn’t at all according to—

You hear the rustle of keys being tossed onto the console in the foyer, followed by the deep sigh of a man shedding the weight of the day. He starts with his shoes, shoving them off by the wall. Then comes the hefty leather jacket, tossed haphazardly against the couch’s headrest.

Your eyebrows furrow, fingers curling tightly around the joint as you lift it back to your chapped lips.

Soft, measured footsteps come from the living room.

You exhale, watching the smoke billow into the air against a backdrop of blue and orange. The next breath, you hold.

The footsteps stop at the balcony doorway, replaced by a single, quiet hum. It’s all too familiar, and while you’re severely tempted to face him, you know it’d be a bluff. So you persevere.

“Good evening,” he calls smoothly. You’ve barely gone a day in its absence, yet the sudden reappearance of his hoarse baritone is enough to send a crisp jolt down your spine.

You extend your stiff arms against the balustrade, trying to remain natural in your silence. You think he’ll keep going and make a nasty comment about your half-hearted outfit or your drug habit, but he doesn’t.

Kylo stands there in silence, looming. You imagine he’s leaning against the doorframe with a hellish smirk, awaiting your next move.

But you’re so, so tired of the games. And this time, you want him to know.

“When’d you get so stuck up?” you bark out, head shaking to amp up the hostility.

Naturally, Kylo chuckles at your antics. The low, reverberating sound heats your skin and boils your blood, until you realize what you had planned to do.

Just as you’re about to twist toward him, the footsteps pick up again. You still in place, breath quickened as you feel his presence loom over your flank in a few, short strides.

You force your head forward, deliberately dodging his gaze when he arrives in your peripheral. Despite the blurry image, your heart thrums at the umber silhouette framing his porcelain mein.

Your nostrils flare as he leans against the balustrade, matching your position while maintaining an appropriate distance. Somehow, that very fact makes you all the more frustrated with him.

Pine fills your nose, and you clench your jaw. Instantly, your fog-addled brain is flooded by visions of the sidewalk, a half-finished bottle of whiskey, and Kylo’s lips so achingly close to yours.

And then comes the aftermath, with Sienna’s vixen smile and Kylo’s dreadful rejection. For a moment, you think you might hurl. That ought to prove a point, at least.

Then, you feel something brush against your knuckles. The movement is brief, and before you can turn to look, Kylo’s picking the joint from your fingers.

You whip your head toward him, breath catching in your throat at the sight.

The joint hangs loosely from his plush lips, trapped behind a bittersweet smile. The ember glows as he inhales, cheeks hollowing to drag the smoke out. His eyes remain locked on yours like two dark pools of oblivion, flickering over your face before he exhales. The scent of burnt resin and pine tar lingers in your nose, its warmth hitting you like a sly taunt.

Your fingers twitch at your sides. “I don’t remember offering.”

Kylo hums, tipping his head back.

“Are you avoiding me?” Kylo questions instead, his tone low and devoid of substance. Your eyes roll at the implication, already exhausted at having the blame pinned on you. If you knew better, you’d tear the joint from his hand, tell him to fuck off, and storm off—but instead, you dig your nails into your palms with a labored huff.

“Avoiding you?” you scoff as a trickling burn settles in your chest. “Some nerve you’ve got.”

He takes another long drag before passing the joint back to you. You take it from his hand slowly, prudent enough to keep a distance.

As you place the filter between your lips, you realize it’s still moist. You know you shouldn’t lose your mind over such a meaningless, juvenile thing, but the sensation makes you tense your abs with something indescribable.

“So you aren’t?” the man continues, and you sigh. Even if he’s just asking to torment you, you know that the quickest way out is through.

“No,” you mumble lowly, settling your gaze into the distance without a particle focus. “I’m not.”

Your answer is stern and simple, but seems to satisfy Kylo just enough for him to hum in acknowledgment. You feel him shuffle at your side, shifting his weight deeper against the balustrade.

“Are you upset with me?”

“You sound like a needy child,” you scoff again, but his question gets you thinking. While you wouldn’t use that particular word to describe your severely complex feelings toward Kylo, it’s a good place to start. “I’m always upset with you.”

He hums again, craning his neck to look at you. “Why?”

His voice is flat but not as empty as before. The lack of his usual dry humor lacing the edges makes you feel like there’s a semblance of authenticity to the question, yet you can’t bring yourself to give him that same courtesy.

Your eyes flicker toward him, taking in his lazy smile and lax eyebrows. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

He scoffs this time, nostrils flaring. “I think you like it.”

The accusation, albeit frivolous, carries stones into your stomach. You inhale sharply and turn away again, fists clenched tight as you brace to lie your way out.

“Then you’re wrong.”

Yet again, Kylo doesn’t trail on. The silence stretches taut, pressing against your ribs like a tightening vice. You feel his gaze on you, but he offers little else—no quip, lazy smirks, or lazy provocation. Something in your chest caves at that.

Your jaw clenches, and before you can stop yourself from turning the conversation petty, the words tumble out like sand. “How was it?”

Kylo’s fingers flex against the railing, lips parting slightly before pressing into a thin line.

“The party,” you elaborate, pressing harsh emphasis on the words. You can’t hide the bitterness in your voice, no matter how hard you try to fight it. And he notices.

“Why are you asking?” he shifts toward you.

Your stomach shifts at his bellicose nonchalance, voice snappy when it comes. “Why do you think?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, head steady as he fervently chases your gaze. You don’t give in, so he continues. “Maybe because you enjoy torturing yourself.”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, finally shifting your attention toward him. As usual, there’s little for you to go off besides the occasional twitch of his lips. “Just drop the games.”

He huffs, inching his gaze away momentarily. You watch his lips tighten, and he finally faces you with a frown. “Is this about—”

“Why’d you say that?” you cut off, but the regret settles in almost immediately. Your nails dig into your palms, eyes narrowed as you curse yourself for following your curiosity. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

“What?” he questions quietly, slowly, like he’s giving you a way out. And despite everything you’ve sworn yourself to abandon, the next words fall from your lips unprompted.

“On the curb,” you croak, feeling your throat run dry. You’re unsure if it’s the weed or the bubbling whine threatening to rise to your mouth. “Why’d you say that?”

His breath is shallow like he’s just taken a hit to the ribs. His knuckles are white where they grip the railing, and for a second, you think you see something split behind his eyes. But it’s gone in a blink, swallowed up by that same infuriating restraint he’s been showcasing since the dawn of his arrival.

Your chest rises and falls, your own breath just as unsteady. The night air feels suffocating now, dense with the buzz of tension that’s been meandering between you for far too long.

"Say something," you demand, voice sharp and crackling.

Kylo shakes his head, bringing a palm up to rub his face. His eyebrows furrow microscopically, leaving small divots in his pale forehead.

“You were drunk.”

Your throat tightens, a bitter smile emerging at the curve of your lips. “And you weren’t?”

He doesn’t need to answer. Kylo had been drinking, sure, but not like you—not in a way that made his actions foggy or excusable. He had been coherent, steady, and calculating as always; whatever happened that night hadn’t been a mistake of impulse. There was no convenient excuse, no haze of intoxication for him to hide behind like you have.

And the worst part? He didn’t owe you anything. He never had.

“Not like you,” he mutters. His chin drops, gaze flickering downward like he can’t fully bring himself to look at you, as if facing your expression might be worse than whatever this is simmering between you.

A shaky breath flutters past your lips as you stare at him, blinking against the strain plowing through your chest.

In some perfect, utopian world, this would be comfortable. You’d get a clean rejection—a firm: ‘No, it meant nothing’, and that would be that. You’d nod, finish your joint on the balcony, then disappear into your room to cry for a reasonable amount of time for someone grieving their heartbreak. Kylo wouldn’t follow.

Things would settle—return to normal.

Or at least, as normal as they were before any of this ever saw the light of day.

But as you watch him now, your stomach knots with something sharp and agonizing curling beneath your ribs. Your eyes track over the little scar beneath his eyebrow, the dim smudge of stubble along his jaw, and the way his hair falls in reckless waves you want to touch, if only to see if they’re as soft as you’ve always imagined.

This is your moment. Your chance to let it die here and pretend none of it ever mattered.

And yet your fingers twitch at your sides, aching to move like it did. The words slip out before you can stop them.

“And if I wasn’t drunk?”

Kylo turns toward you, his expression breaking open with the first raw reaction you’ve seen from him all evening. His brows twitch upward, eyes widening just slightly at the bluntness of your words.

“What?”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, inhaling deeply. The joint in your fingers has nearly burned itself out, forgotten in the poundage of your conversation. A trim loss in the grand scheme of things, you think.

“If I wasn’t drunk that night,” you repeat, voice enduring despite the wildfire bursting in your stomach. Every syllable is carefully weighed before you release it into the air between you, smoke curling from your lips as you watch Kylo’s countenance flicker between flippant, indistinguishable emotions. “Would you have done it?”

Finally, you’d learn whether Kylo Ren’s glances, touches, and his infuriating, insufferable behavior toward you had ever held any merit. If you’re particularly unlucky, he’ll return your advances. You’re unsure of what happens, then.

You stare into each other silently, breaths mingling. Anxiety prickles your stomach, coursing through your veins like a silent harbinger of doom.

Kylo’s eyes darken, filling with something you can’t fully interpret, before they inexplicably narrow with scorn. You taste bile.

“Don’t be stupid.”

Your stomach drops.

You think it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Kylo’s always been a bastard with cruel words, knowing exactly where to stick the knife to make it bleed the longest; yet something about this particular dismissal feels like a death toll.

The pang in your chest weaves through your lungs, squeezing and tugging like a serpent. A scoff tumbles past your lips before you can stop it. You lower your head, shielding your eyes before they can betray your falsified mein. “Right.”

You hear the sharp exhale he lets out at your tone, stepping from one foot to the other. When you finally glance up, his face is turned toward the horizon, the ascending evening sky casting its glow over his features. Warm, golden hues spill across the sharp planes of his face, bathing him in the coming of spring. Your heart swells.

And somehow, it’s that quiet pang of adoration that sets you off most.

Without another word, you pluck the spent joint from your fingers, flicking it into the plastic cup on the table.

“Is it because of her?” you ask steadily, watching the ember fizzle out in the shallow pool of water.

Kylo stiffens at the sharp edge in your voice, his jaw tightening as he angles his head toward the sky. You watch the muscles in his throat shift as he swallows thickly, face cast in light and shadow.

“No,” he finally croaks out, voice low and treacherous as your heart threatens to give out. “No—No, I was—”

“Then why?” You cut him off impatiently, voice breaking under the heavy weight of his ignorance. Pulled in too many directions at once, your chest aches with the pressure pulse of a frenzied drum against your ribs. “Why do you keep doing this?”

Kylo inhales sharply through his nose, fingers clenching into fists at his sides. He doesn’t look at you, his gaze locked somewhere in the distance, and judging by the way his nostrils flare, you know he’s just as furious as you are.

“It’s complicated.”

A bitter, disbelieving laugh bubbles up from your throat at the banal excuse. “Why? It doesn’t have—”

“But it is.” his voice is unyielding now, laced with a cold that prickles your skin.

You watch him with parted lips, his eyes flickering over your features with something you pray isn’t contempt.

He huffs, leaning his stiff shoulders against the railing.

“You don’t fucking know me.”

The words punch the air from your lungs, making you inhale sharply. You swallow, trying to fight the emerging sting behind your eyes as the self-pity within you shifts into a trembling fire of disdain.

"I just want the truth,” you mumble, voice flattening with impatience.

He looks at you with curiosity, but the tone of his reply simmers with an undeniable edge of contempt. "I gave you the truth."

"No,” you reply through a joyless chuckle, head shaking at his apparent stupor, “you gave me scraps. You gave me riddles and half-answers and the bare fucking minimum."

You watch his lips press together, eyes unmoving as a looming shadow. His secrecy has always driven you mad, but now? It feels like you’re at your wit’s end.

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his dark curls. They cascade down his neck, a stray lock falling into his face to frame the acerbity of his mein. "I told you it's complicated."

Your stomach twists, urging you to push harder. He wouldn’t get to play with you like that without a proper explanation, even if it meant the end of your non-friendship.

"Bullshit!” you hiss, voice laced with venom and an essence of doubt. You pause for a beat, surveying him through half-lidded eyes and taking in the lackluster expression painting his face. Your forehead pulsates. “You’re a coward, Ren."

His eyes snap to yours, dark and perilous at your daring proclamation. He scavenges your body from head to toe, sizing you up like a predator does his prey.

"Careful."

"Or what?" you spit through a scoff, pushing off the balustrade and raising your arms in a losing battle. "You’ll push me away?”

His jaw clenches. You catch his nostrils flare, fingers twitching.

“Because news flash, Kylo.” you trail bitterly, voice edging toward a strained yell. He watches you with surprising patience, dark pupils mirroring the brilliant sky. “You already fucking did."

His throat bobs as he swallows, body going wooden like he’s pushing himself to keep still. His fingers twitch again—like he wants to grab you, shake you, do something to break this damned tension once and for all.

Instead, he lets out a quiet, humorless laugh. “You act like I had a choice.”

Your jaw tightens, watching him with utter incredulity. While your belly rumbles with anger, you know that to a certain extent, you can’t deny his words. You don’t know much beyond the fact that he was cheated on and forced to live with his estranged sister. You’ve never known the details of his situation, or what keeps him coming back to the woman who irrevocably betrayed his trust.

He’s right.

You don’t know him.

Yet, that can’t keep you from probing for answers.

“Didn’t you?” you utter breathlessly, making his lip curl just enough to infuriate you further. He shakes his head, shooting you a cold scowl.

“Right, of course,” he scoffs, folding his arms as he faces you, “You know everything.”

You exhale in disbelief, planting your fists against your hips. “I know enough to know you’re being a fucking idiot about this.”

He exhales sharply through his nose, looking off to the side like he’s trying to physically restrain himself from saying something much worse. “Sure you do.”

“Oh, fuck off, Kylo,” your laugh is sharp and humorless when it leaves your lips. “You love talking in circles, don’t you? Like if you’re vague enough, you can get away with whatever the fuck you want.”

He finally turns back to you, empty expression betraying his otherwise razor-sharp tone. “God, why do you have to make everything about yourself?!”

Your arms drop to your sides as a sore chuckle escapes your throat. “Right. Because this has nothing to do with me.”

He shakes his head wildly, regurgitating a strained, joyless chuckle amidst the spread of his arms. “No! It really doesn’t!”

Your mouth cracks open at his careless expression, tone dropping an octave in a challenge. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he continues asceribly, shifting side to side. “You’re always so fucking dramatic. Not everything is about you and yours! And—and if you’d just—”

“Oh, I’m dramatic?” Your voice pitches higher as you gesture wildly between the two of you. “You’re the one who starts shit and then gets pissed when I have the nerve to bite back!”

Kylo’s tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, his patience wearing thin with every word you utter. You hear him mumble something before facing you with a strained gust. His sudden calmness scares you more than the initial storm.

“I start shit?”

Kylo takes a step forward, and instinctively, you take one back. You can feel the cool metal of the balcony railing pressing into your lower back, but you refuse to let that stop you. You wouldn’t back down from this, even if it meant getting your ass handed to you.

You cross your arms over your chest, chin lifting defiantly. “Yes, Kylo. You do.”

His eyes flicker over your stance, his lips twitching slightly like he’s resisting the urge to smirk—like this is all just some fucking game to him, while you’re over the precipice of losing your mind.

“You always do.”

He cocks his head, expression flat but demanding. The sardonic smirk emerging at the corners of his lips is hilariously ironic, like he’s proving your point without trying.

“Anything else?” he huffs with fabricated lethargy, striking you with a sharp glare.

Oh, fuck no.

Your breath shudders as the turmoil bubbles over, burning your throat as the words spill out.

“Yeah.” You exhale sharply, hands clenching into tight fists, though you’ve got nothing. Your body trembles with adrenaline, urging you to spit acid in any way you can. “Would it kill you to treat me with human decency?”

Kylo scoffs loudly, tilting his head back like the idea alone is too much for him to entertain.

“Right.” He takes another step closer, eyes hooded. “Because you’re such a sweet, innocent angel.”

Despite the venom lacing his tone, his choice of words makes your thighs squeeze. It’s an instinctive reaction that makes you shake your head, lips parting in utter disbelief.

“At least I try.” Your voice is sharp, eyes burning into his. You push forward, ignoring the heat rising in your body. “But—but every time I want to be a friend, you—”

“God—Will you fucking stop that for once?” Kylo snaps, cutting you off with harsh, unfriendly laughter.

Your brows knit together, lips hanging ajar at his hasty defiance. Your eyes scan across his features, taking in the odd glint in his eyes. Everything around you simmers with heat.

“What?”

He shakes his head incredulously, raking a hand through his hair again. When he speaks, his voice is tighter than ever, loud and final like a stray bullet.

“Trying—trying to act like we’re fucking friends.” He gestures vaguely between you, devoid of tenderness. He meets your gaze, eyebrows low on his forehead as he hisses your name. “We’re not friends. Never will be. At best, we tolerate each other, and even that comes with its shitty fucking surprises.”

Your heart slams in your chest, pulsating in your ears. Your mouth moves before your brain has the chance to catch up, filling the buzz of your sermon with unforgiving bite.

“God forbid someone gives a shit about you.”

Kylo’s expression blackens. His whole body stiffens a margin, towering above you like a rage-filled statue splayed in hues of orange and red. His scowl says it all. You know you’ve hit a nerve before he even utters.

But then he leans in, barking through gritted teeth and a labored breath:

“I don’t fucking need you to.”

Your breath catches harshly, scraping your vocal cords. You force yourself to hold his gaze. Heat and electricity simmer between you, raising the thin hairs at the back of your neck.

You moisten your lips, meeting the man’s gaze with half-lidded eyes. Pressure builds within your chest, fluttering through your arms and legs like a powerful, undeniable current.

“Good,” you start quietly, toying an ill-tempered smile against your lips, “Because I don’t.”

You take a step forward, straightening your back and sizing him up. He watches keenly, nostrils flaring as you poke a digit into the firm plane of his ribs. Kylo’s breath stutters, his chest rising and falling in quick, erratic beats.

You lean in, your voice faint, razor-thin, and laced with a fatal malignancy.

“I fucking hate you, Ben.”

Birds cry into the setting sun, cars honking in the distance while Shuggie Otis croons through the speakers inside. A soft spring breeze blows through the balcony, tousling Kylo’s dark locks as he peeks at you through dark lashes.

A bitter smile curves at the edge of his mouth, taunting you as always.

“Say it again.” He murmurs, unhurried and nearly cruel.

Your pulse slams against your ribs, matching the beat of percussion. His eyes are locked onto yours, dark and penetrating with this simple, impossible dare.

You swallow thickly, shifting your digit into a full palm. It lingers against his chest, sinking into the rhythmic thrum as you furrow your brows, bearing a fearless step closer.

You flare your nostrils, pushing up slightly onto your toes.

“Kylo,” you trail quietly, his breath hot and moist on your cheeks. You part your lips, trembling, preparing to nail the coffin shut forever under the slow, percolating flicker of his eyes as they survey your eyes, cheeks, the parting of your lips.

He hums. Your heart roars beneath your ribs, pleading in agony.

“I hate y—”

Kylo’s lips crash hungrily onto yours.

His hands gently clamp around your jaw, fingers threading into your scalp as his mouth slants over yours for easier access. The air between you vanishes, swallowed by the sharp, heady collision of lips and teeth scraping in a desperate dance.

The taste of him floods your senses with resin, smoke, and something hauntingly sweet and tender that you lap up with discomfiting greed. He nips at your bottom lip, pulling and kissing.

Your fingers curl into the soft fabric of his shirt instinctively, nails scraping against his chest as you push up against him—desperate and thoroughly enraged at the audacity of his measures.

A groan tumbles deep within his throat, low and sultry as it vibrates against your tongue. His grip tightens, pulling and all-consuming, like he wants nothing more than to brand you with his touch.

And for a moment, you think you’ll let him.

“Kylo,” you mewl, feeling his large hands roam over your cheek and neck. It snakes to your waist, inching under your tank top and splaying over the small of your back.

“Shh,” he hushes, his mouth sloppily ghosting along your jaw, then down the column of your throat. His teeth graze against your skin, lips chasing the mark with something almost worshipful. His palm slides higher beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing your ribcage, coaxing a shudder from your body as he holds you tightly against the railing.

You whimper softly, throwing an arm around his neck and leaning your head back to grant him access.

You should stop this, you think—push him away. But instead, your fingers tangle in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, greedily wanting to feel more of him.

Until something shifts.

You’re caught up with his hold on you; like a porcelain doll, delicate and too precious to allow a break. His breath stutters when his lips brush over your pulse like he’s breathing new life, unraveling something irrevocably powerful.

It feels like giving in.

And suddenly, your resolve crumbles into nothing. Your body washes over with palpitating regret, urging your breath to catch at his tender nipping as he bucks his hips into yours.

Your hands flatten against his chest. “Kylo—”

He slows, lips lingering near your collarbone. His breath is heavy and warm against your skin as you give him a push, eliciting a soft moan from his plush lips.

A second passes. Then another.

He pulls back, dark eyes searching yours, obscured by something mildly animalistic. His grip loosens, sliding away from your body like he’s afraid of what he might do if he lingers.

The space between you stretches with a crackling silence. The city beyond hums with life, but all you can hear are your heavy breaths intermingling, lingering with the taste of each other.

You take a step back. Your throat tightens with the thousand things you want to say.

“I can’t,” is all you can utter, the whisper barely audible over the pounding in your ears.

Kylo exhales sharply, running a trembling hand through his disheveled hair. His lips are swollen with the semblance of your kiss, eyes burning with a plunging, living fire that penetrates your heart like hot daggers.

He calls your name. The word is sweet and languid on his tongue, lined with the kind of softness you’ve never been the fortunate prey of. His hand tenses mid-air, fingers flexing at the devastating sight of your gaze sinking away from his.

And then, without another word, you turn and slip inside, leaving him alone in the woeful finale of your favorite song.

[kiiwiigii]

Morning Showers 

Emmett x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Emmett joins you for a morning shower, and as if the shower wasn’t already hot enough, it gets even hotter 

Warnings: 

NSFW 18+ 

Smut 

Word Count: 700+ 

Requested?: For Kinktober! 

Okay I'm back again 👀 but I just saw shower sex!?! So how about sleepy and lazy shower sex with emmet (also I'm loving everyone's ideas and I'm gonna have a blast reading them alll)>  

A/N: Not sure I'm super happy with this one, but I hope you guys enjoy it, nonetheless. 

I sighed happily, letting the hot water run over my skin.  

There was nothing quite like a hot shower to wake you up in the morning. At least that's what I've been told. Right now, I could happily fall asleep, my muscles relaxing even more. 

I jumped a little as I felt cold arms wrap around me from behind. I automatically put my hands over his in surprise, my brain trying to form coherent thoughts in its foggy state. 

"Emmett?" I murmured sleepily, turning my head to rest against his as he buried his head into my neck. 

"The one and only." His voice was muffled for a moment before he nosed his way up to my ear, placing a soft kiss at the base. "Good morning, beautiful." 

"Good morning yourself, handsome." 

I reached my hand up to cup the back of his neck as he kissed and nipped along my neck. I leaned my head to the side in silent submission, letting him rake his teeth along my neck before sucking softly on my pulse point. 

I moaned, digging my nails into his hard skin. 

Emmett chuckled. "Easy there, tiger." 

I couldn’t help but giggle, but that quickly turned into a soft moan as his hands traced their way over my curves, leaving a cool trail of goosebumps behind. I shivered a little, the coldness of his skin contrasting with the heat of the water. I gasped as his hands found my breasts, his long fingers pinching and flicking my nipples teasingly. 

"Emmett." I moaned softly. 

"I love it when you say my name, doll." He nibbled on my ear. 

I turned around to face him, lacing my hands through his thick hair and reaching up on the very tips of my toes to meet him halfway as he ducked down to kiss me.  

"I want you," I murmured. 

"Your wish is my command." 

I let out a surprised gasp as he lifted me, hands under my thighs, and pressed me into the shower wall, the water running in between us. My hand slipped downwards, taking his length in my hand and guiding him to my entrance. My head fell forward onto his shoulder with a groan as he entered me with little to no effort. 

He growled, pushing deeper into me and my heart skipped a beat. If there was one thing I loved about Emmett, it was his possessiveness. He gave me freedom to do whatever I wanted, but at the end of the day I was his, and he was mine. And there was nothing that turned me on more. 

I could feel every inch of him as he slid into me, and I moaned as he bottomed out, filling me completely. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging to him as he began to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, smooth rhythm. It wasn't long before I could feel my orgasm boiling up inside of me, and I rolled my hips forward, desperate for release. 

Emmett buried his face in my neck, his hands clutching my thighs. 

"That's it, doll. Come for me." He murmured. 

I groaned, feeling the warmth in my lower half building and building.  

"Emmett," I whimpered. "I'm going to…" 

"Come for me, Y/N." He murmured; his voice tight. "I want to feel you come all over me. I want that pussy strangling my cock until I can barely move inside you." 

He picked up the pace, thrusting into me as I felt the waves of pleasure build up inside me. Just when I was about to let go, he shifted his hips, hitting that one spot that had me seeing stars and finally sent me over the edge. I mewled, arching my back as my whole body shook.  

"Emmett." I panted, no, I pleaded, tears forming in my eyes from the intensity of the pleasure rippling through me. 

"I'm not stopping until you come again, doll." 

I moaned, pussy and thighs clenching around him at his words.  

He continued to move, his hips moving in a fast, desperate rhythm. I could feel myself tightening around him again.  

"Please. Please. Please." I whimpered. "I'm going to come again." 

He obliged, his cock hitting that one spot over and over again and I cried out, shattered by the waves of pleasure washing over me. He growled, pounding into me harder and harder. Just when I thought I wouldn't be able to take anymore, he slammed into me one final time and froze, coming deep inside of me. I cried out, my orgasm continuing unabated as he filled me with his seed. 

We slumped against the wall, both of us panting and spent. 

"Mine." He muttered into my neck. 

"Yours." I agreed. 

{Kinktober} // {Masterlist}

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[lyragrayson4ever]

No one else (Lyra x Grayson)

The flames cracked through the night like lightning in slow motion.

Screams echoed. Savannah was trying to reach emergency responders. Jameson paced like a caged animal. Xander had already taken off toward the back exit, calling Lyra’s name over and over.

And Grayson stood still as stone until Avery whispered, pale and shaking:

“She’s still in there.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“Lyra?” Grayson said, voice sharp and already breaking.

Avery nodded. “Eve tricked her. Locked her in.”

The blood drained from Grayson’s face.

“No—”

“She didn’t come out.” Rohan’s voice was quiet. Final.

The world dropped out from under him. Then the next second exploded into movement.

He shoved past them all.

“Grayson, stop—!”

“Don’t go in there—”

But he was already gone, vanishing into the fire without a second thought.

The inside of the house was chaos.

The smoke was thick, suffocating. Heat rippled through every inch of him. The world tilted sideways as beams cracked, ceilings groaned, and flames licked the walls like they wanted to devour him, too.

“LYRA!” he shouted into the fire.

Silence.

Then—just barely—he saw her.

She was collapsed near a bookshelf, one arm limp beneath her, half-pinned under a fallen plank, her eyes closed. So still.

“No—no, no, no—”

Grayson dropped to his knees beside her, barely aware of the way his hands were shaking as he brushed the hair from her face, voice crumbling into raw pieces.

“Lyra. Wake up. Please wake up.”

Nothing.

Her skin was warm, too warm. Her lips were pale, rimmed with ash. He pulled her into his arms as carefully as if she were made of porcelain.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, over and over. “Come on, stubborn girl. You don’t get to give up now.”

Her head laid against his shoulder.

His heart twisted painfully.

“I need you to open your eyes,” he said, voice trembling. “Just look at me. Say something. Anything.” “Call me an ass hole all you want”.

Nothing.

He bowed his head to her forehead, voice cracking now, completely undone. “Please, Lyra. Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me imagine this world without you.”

Still nothing.

Then—he felt it. The faintest flutter of her chest rising against his.

She was breathing.

Just barely.

He tightened his grip and stood, carrying her out as if his own life depended on it.

The cool night air hit like a wave when he stumbled outside.

“MEDIC!” Jameson yelled.

Avery ran forward, but Grayson dropped to his knees, still cradling Lyra like she might vanish. Xander handed him a soaked towel, and Grayson immediately used it to dab at her face, careful and gentle, whispering her name again and again.

“She’s not waking up,” he said, his voice cracking around the edges. “She won’t open her eyes.”

“She’s breathing,” Avery said, kneeling beside him, trying to stay calm. “Grayson, she’s alive.”

“I need her to wake up,” he whispered. “She always wakes up. She always fights back.”

The others circled around them. Someone handed Grayson a bottle of water, but he didn’t take his eyes off her. He just held her, one hand cradling her head, the other gripping her hand like it was the only thing keeping him on the ground.

And then—

She stirred.

He froze.

Her eyes fluttered, brow furrowed like she was confused.

“Grayson?” she croaked.

His breath shattered out of him, a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“Yes. Yes, I’m here.”

Her hand twitched in his. “What… happened?”

He didn’t answer with words. Just pressed his forehead to hers, eyes wet, arms locked tight around her.

“You’re okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe now.”

She blinked slowly. “You went in after me?”

“I’d go into a thousand fires for you.”

His voice shook. He didn’t care who saw it. Not Avery, not his brothers, not Savannah or Rohan or anyone. All that mattered was that she was breathing and he could feel her heartbeat against his.

And then, without a word, he pulled her into his arms again, holding her as tightly as he could without hurting her.

And this time?

He didn’t let go.

Hope you guys liked it I was Lyragrayson starved so I had to whip something up!!!

[paxaz535]

The Space Between Us (2, final)

paige bueckers x black!oc

synopsis:

Best friends since childhood, Kamiya and Paige always thought their bond was unbreakable. But when they reunite at the family cabin after years apart, the line between friendship and something more begins to blur. As the tension between them builds, they must face what they’ve always known deep down: they’ve been more than close all along.

(SMUT!)

—————

The next afternoon, the smell of charcoal and sizzling meat filled the air as Jonathan and Bob manned the grill, laughing loudly as they argued over who seasoned the ribs better. A speaker played old-school R&B while the yard slowly filled with more people—old family friends, neighbors, even a few college kids Bob had invited last-minute.

Paige sat on the porch steps with a drink in her hand, legs stretched out, tank top clinging to her from the heat. She was trying to stay chill—but her eyes kept drifting across the yard.

To Kamiya.

Kamiya stood near the folding table, laughing at something Adam said. A boy—tall, light-skinned, full of fake confidence—leaned a little too close to her side, clearly trying to shoot his shot.

“Damn,” Paige muttered under her breath, sipping her drink tighter than she needed to.

“Hey.” A voice broke her thoughts.

She looked up to see a girl—tall, toned, probably a junior at someone’s college—smiling at her.

“You’re Paige, right?” the girl asked, sliding down next to her without waiting for permission.

“Yeah,” Paige said, side-eyeing her cautiously.

“I’ve heard about you. Bob’s always bragging on his daughter,” the girl said with a laugh, tossing her curls over her shoulder. “I play soccer at UConn.”

Of course she does.

“That’s cool,” Paige said, offering a polite smile, but her eyes wandered again—right back to Kamiya.

The boy was still talking, clearly trying to be charming. Kamiya was smiling, nodding politely, but Paige knew that smile. It wasn’t real. It was the one she used when she was uncomfortable but didn’t want to be rude.

Back on the porch, the girl next to Paige inched a little closer. “So… are you seeing anyone?”

Paige didn’t even answer. She stood up suddenly, brushing off her shorts. “I’ll be back.”

⸻

Meanwhile, Kamiya tried to hide her grimace as the boy laughed too loudly at his own joke. He kept touching her arm like they’d known each other forever, and she was so close to making up a fake boyfriend just to escape.

She glanced toward the porch—and there was Paige, staring right at her.

Their eyes met across the lawn. It was only a second, but it hit like a jolt.

Kamiya’s stomach flipped.

Paige started walking toward her, jaw a little tight, eyes fixed on the guy standing too close to Kamiya’s side.

“Hey,” Paige said, sliding in between them with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Mind if I steal her for a sec?”

The boy blinked. “Oh—uh…”

“She’ll be back,” Paige added sweetly, not giving him a chance to argue.

Kamiya blinked, surprised but not mad about it.

Paige tugged her away from the table, down toward the lake trail just far enough to be out of earshot.

“What was that?” Kamiya asked, raising a brow.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Paige shot back, her tone light but loaded. “He was all up on you.”

“I didn’t even want to talk to him,” Kamiya muttered.

“Well, good,” Paige said, brushing a hand through her hair, looking more flustered than she meant to. “Because that girl on the porch? She was practically in my lap.”

Kamiya smirked. “You jealous?”

Paige met her gaze, this time not backing down. “Maybe.”

Kamiya’s heart stuttered.

“I didn’t like seeing you with him,” Paige admitted. “And I don’t want to pretend like I’m okay with anyone else trying to get at you.”

The air grew still again.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Just the breeze brushing past them, warm and charged.

Finally, Kamiya said quietly, “Then don’t pretend.”

Paige’s eyes flicked down to Kamiya’s lips for half a second.

And then—slow burn still crackling—they just stood there, close but not touching, the tension between them thick as smoke rising from the barbecue behind them.

Paige didn’t move. And neither did Kamiya.

They just stood there, eyes locked, the distance between them feeling thinner than air. Paige’s fingers twitched at her side like she wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if she should.

Kamiya’s voice came soft. “You didn’t have to save me, you know.”

Paige let out a breath of a laugh. “I kind of did. He was all in your personal space.”

“He was annoying,” Kamiya admitted, smiling a little. “But I could’ve handled it.”

“I know,” Paige said, eyes still on hers. “You always can.”

Another silence passed—one of those weighty, unsaid silences where everything meaningful is buried just beneath the surface. Then Paige finally pulled back a bit, her body visibly cooling off.

“We should probably go back before your dad thinks we ran off to elope or something.”

Kamiya chuckled, a little breathless. “Right. God forbid.”

They turned slowly, walking side by side back toward the barbecue, the sound of music and laughter growing louder with each step.

But everything felt different now.

Their hands brushed once—just once—and neither of them pulled away.

That night, the cabin had finally quieted down. Most of the guests were gone, the grill covered, the leftover food packed away. Bob and Jonathan were finishing off beers on the back deck, and Drew was knocked out on the couch, mouth open and snoring.

Upstairs, Kamiya couldn’t sleep.

The moonlight spilled through the window of her room, painting silver streaks across the wooden floor. She sat by the sill, knees drawn up to her chest, hoodie zipped up over her tank top.

A soft knock tapped at the door.

She turned. “Yeah?”

The door cracked open. Paige’s face peeked through.

“You up?”

“Clearly.”

Paige smiled and stepped in, closing the door behind her. She was wearing a black tee, her basketball shorts showing legs brushing against the cool floor. Her hair was in two dutch braids, Moe did them earlier.

Kamiya looked at her for a second too long.

Paige walked over, motioning to the spot next to her at the window. “Can I?”

Kamiya nodded. “Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the quiet hum of summer bugs filling the space. Outside, the lake shimmered under the moonlight—still and endless.

“I used to think nothing ever changes up here,” Paige said softly. “Same lake. Same trees. Same old grill Jonathan refuses to replace.”

Kamiya smiled faintly. “You sound like you’re eighty.”

“Maybe I feel like it,” Paige said. Then, quieter, “This summer feels different though.”

Kamiya glanced at her. “Yeah. It does.”

Paige’s fingers tugged at the hem of her shirt. “I keep thinking about what you said earlier. About how it didn’t feel wrong… when I looked at you like that.”

Kamiya’s heart jumped in her chest.

“It didn’t,” she said. “It still doesn’t.”

They looked at each other in the dark, soft light brushing over their faces. Paige’s knee gently bumped Kamiya’s.

“You scare me a little,” Paige said quietly. “In a good way.”

Kamiya blinked. “Why?”

“Because you’re the one person I’ve never been able to just… brush off. And I think you could break my heart without even meaning to.”

Kamiya’s breath caught.

“I wouldn’t want to,” she said.

Paige nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Then don’t.”

They didn’t kiss.

But Paige leaned her head onto Kamiya’s shoulder, and Kamiya let her stay there, her cheek resting lightly against her braids. And for a long time, they just sat in that silence—hearts racing, minds tangled, but safe in the space they made for each other.

Something was happening between them.

And it didn’t need to be said. Not yet.

-

No one knew why—but Kamiya woke up feeling… different.

Not anxious. Not tired. Just—on edge. Her body was warm, her breath a little heavier than usual. She blinked in the low morning light, sheets tangled around her legs, her hoodie slightly askew.

And then she remembered.

Paige had slept in here last night.

Her heart skipped.

That shouldn’t have meant anything—they’d slept in the same bed a million times growing up. But this? This felt different. Kamiya could feel it in the way her skin tingled, in how her stomach fluttered like she was waiting for something to happen.

She looked down.

Paige’s arm was thrown casually around her middle, fingers resting against the curve of her waist. But that wasn’t what had her mind spiraling.

It was Paige’s knee—tucked just a little too close between her thighs. Not quite touching, but close enough that it made her chest tighten.

Get it together, she told herself, squeezing her eyes shut.

She didn’t remember dreaming anything wild. And yet—here she was. Breath shallow. Body tense. Entirely too aware of how close Paige was, how warm her skin felt against her own.

And then Paige shifted in her sleep.

Her knee moved.

Pressed.

Kamiya inhaled sharply, her whole body reacting before her brain could catch up. It wasn’t on purpose—she knew that. Paige was just a cuddler, always had been. But Kamiya’s thoughts were spinning now, and she felt a flush rise to her cheeks.

She had to move. Now. Before her mind went anywhere it shouldn’t.

Carefully, she slipped out from under Paige’s arm, sitting at the edge of the bed with her hands pressed into her lap, staring at the wall.

Her heart was pounding.

This wasn’t just about friendship anymore.

And maybe… it hadn’t been for a while.

-

The rest of the day moved on, but Kamiya barely felt present for most of it.

She helped Moe chop vegetables in the kitchen, nodded along to Drew’s jokes, even played a round of cards with Jonathan and Bob. But in the back of her mind—Paige.

Or more specifically: Paige’s body, Paige’s warmth, Paige’s breath at the back of her neck that morning. That knee.

She hadn’t meant to think about it as much as she had. But every little thing Paige did today—stretching her arms above her head, bending over to grab a drink from the cooler, even laughing too hard at something Moe said—it all felt charged now.

Kamiya caught herself staring more than once.

And every time, her stomach flipped like she was falling from a rooftop.

Paige wasn’t making it any easier either. She was being… normal. Like nothing happened. Like her leg hadn’t practically awakened something deep and dangerous in Kamiya’s body that morning.

But Kamiya wasn’t fine.

She was restless. Distracted. Sitting outside on the deck now with a cold drink in her hand and her thighs squeezed tight, pretending like she wasn’t replaying that moment in bed over and over again.

She let out a low sigh.

“You good?”

Paige’s voice pulled her out of the spiral.

Kamiya turned to find her standing there, plate of fruit in one hand, hair braided back now. She looked… annoyingly good. Like she didn’t know what she was doing to Kamiya’s self-control.

“Yeah,” Kamiya said, too quickly. “Just tired.”

Paige gave her a look. “Liar.”

She sat down beside her, crossing her legs, brushing a knee against Kamiya’s like it meant nothing.

Kamiya flinched slightly.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re good?”

“Mmhm.” Kamiya took a sip of her drink, praying it would cool her off. “Totally fine.”

But she wasn’t.

Because Paige was too close. Her thigh warm. Her perfume soft and sweet in the summer air. Kamiya could feel her heartbeat in her throat.

And the worst part?

She wanted more.

Wanted Paige to touch her again, even if by accident. Wanted to feel that heat again. Wanted to ask for it this time.

But she bit her tongue.

Because if she made the first move… there was no going back.

And part of her still wasn’t sure what Paige would do if she really knew how far Kamiya’s thoughts had gone.

-

Night fell slow and sticky over the lake, the warm air buzzing with leftover laughter and the scent of grilled food.

Most of the group had drifted into the living room for a movie. Moe had taken over the couch, Drew was half-asleep on the floor, and Bob and Jonathan were deep in a debate about whether LeBron or Jordan really was the GOAT.

But Kamiya needed air.

She slipped out the back door and onto the porch, letting the screen shut softly behind her. The sky was a deep navy now, stars scattered across it like glitter someone had thrown in frustration. The lake shimmered like it had a secret.

She leaned against the railing, finally letting herself breathe.

“Knew I’d find you out here,” Paige’s voice came from behind her.

Kamiya turned. Paige stood in the doorway with a hoodie pulled over her head, her arms crossed, cheeks a little flushed from the wine Moe had poured too generously earlier.

“You always disappear when you’re overthinking,” she said, stepping closer.

Kamiya rolled her eyes with a faint smile. “I’m not overthinking.”

“Mmhm. Liar again.”

Paige stopped beside her, looking out at the water too. For a few long seconds, neither of them said a word.

Then Paige whispered, “Are we okay?”

Kamiya blinked. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Paige shrugged. “You’ve been… different. Since this morning.”

And there it was.

Kamiya’s throat dried. Her fingers gripped the wooden rail a little tighter.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “You just… make things hard.”

Paige’s head turned. “Hard how?”

Kamiya hesitated. Every version of the truth sat heavy on her tongue. And yet—

Before she could answer, Paige stepped in closer. The space between them thinned until their shoulders touched. Kamiya didn’t move. Couldn’t.

“You’ve been looking at me different,” Paige said, her voice low. “And I don’t think it’s just me imagining it.”

Kamiya’s breath hitched.

“You’re not imagining it,” she admitted softly. “But I don’t know what to do with it yet.”

Paige nodded slowly, eyes flicking down to Kamiya’s lips for half a second—just enough to send sparks racing through her.

“You don’t have to do anything,” she murmured. “Not until you’re ready.”

Then she leaned in, pressed her forehead gently to Kamiya’s, and stayed there. Just breathing.

It wasn’t a kiss.

But it felt like a promise.

And when Paige finally stepped back, her fingers brushed Kamiya’s—delicate, lingering, like a silent I want you too—before she turned and slipped back inside.

Leaving Kamiya breathless on the porch, wondering how much longer she could hold out.

-

The cabin was quiet.

Everyone had gone to bed hours ago, and Kamiya lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to slow her breathing. But her chest was tight. Her skin buzzed. Her thoughts wouldn’t settle.

Paige was lying next to her again—this time by choice. No accident, no drunken pass-out. Just… mutual, unspoken decision.

And now Kamiya was hyper-aware of every shift Paige made. Every breath. The brush of her thigh against hers under the covers. The warmth of her body so close.

She turned slowly to face her.

Paige was already looking at her.

Neither of them said anything for a moment. It was all there in the silence—the wanting, the curiosity, the hesitation.

Then Paige whispered, “Can I touch you?”

Kamiya’s breath caught. She nodded.

Paige reached out, her fingers gently tracing the curve of Kamiya’s jaw. Her thumb brushed her lip, soft and slow. Kamiya leaned into it, eyes fluttering shut.

And then Paige kissed her.

The moment Paige’s lips met hers, Kamiya forgot how to think.

Everything else—her doubts, the tension, the time they’d lost—faded under the weight of Paige’s kiss. She moaned softly into it, fingers tangling in the fabric of Paige’s shirt like she was afraid she’d disappear.

They broke apart only for air, then Kamiya pulled Paige back in, this time deeper—hungrier.

Hands roamed. Clothes slipped away, one layer at a time, until the covers were pushed down and skin met skin. Paige’s body was warm, soft in all the right places, and when she slid on top of Kamiya, straddling her hips, Kamiya’s breath hitched so hard it left her dizzy.

“Are you sure?” Paige whispered, forehead resting against hers.

Kamiya nodded, voice barely a whisper. “Please.”

Paige leaned down, kissing her again—slow, deep—while her hand slipped between them. Kamiya gasped as Paige cupped her, palm pressing gently over her soaked panties.

“You’re so wet already,” Paige murmured against her mouth.

Kamiya’s cheeks flushed hot, but she didn’t look away. “You did that.”

Paige smiled, then slid her hand beneath the waistband, fingers slipping through heat and slickness. Kamiya’s back arched as Paige touched her—teasing at first, then easing two fingers inside.

Her body trembled.

She clutched the sheets with one hand, the other gripping Paige’s hip as her best friend—no, the girl she wanted, the girl she had always wanted—moved inside her, slow and steady.

“You feel so good,” Paige whispered, kissing the hollow of Kamiya’s throat. “So tight.”

Kamiya whimpered, her hips grinding against Paige’s palm, chasing every wave of pleasure. It built fast. Too fast. She buried her face in Paige’s shoulder, trying to muffle the noises spilling from her lips.

Paige didn’t stop. She moved with her—pressing kisses to Kamiya’s chest, sucking one nipple into her mouth, making her cry out in surprise and want. Her thumb circled Kamiya’s clit now, soft but firm, exactly how she needed it.

“Paige,” she gasped. “I’m gonna—”

“Come for me,” Paige breathed. “I want to feel you.”

And Kamiya did—legs trembling, toes curling, a moan ripping through her as her whole body seized and gave in. The climax hit hard, overwhelming and perfect, and Paige held her through it, kissing her like she never wanted to stop.

When Kamiya finally opened her eyes, her limbs limp and heart racing, Paige was watching her—eyes soft, lips swollen.

“You okay?” Paige whispered.

Kamiya gave a breathless, dazed laugh. “Yeah. Just… processing the fact that I want to do that again.”

Paige grinned. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Kamiya wasn’t sure what came over her—but something inside her snapped the moment Paige said, “I’m not done with you yet.”

She’d always let Paige take the lead. She’d always let herself melt under those hands, that voice, that gaze.

But now?

Now she wanted to feel Paige come undone.

Kamiya leaned up, flipping their bodies in one smooth, slow motion until Paige was flat on her back, eyes wide with surprise—and just a hint of excitement.

“You’re not the only one who knows how to take control,” Kamiya whispered, lips brushing Paige’s jaw.

“Oh?” Paige’s voice was breathy, curious, challenged.

Kamiya kissed down her neck, slow and deep, until Paige shivered beneath her. Then, Kamiya pressed her hips forward—grinding down gently against Paige’s thigh. She was still slick from before, panties damp and clinging to her in the most desperate way.

She gasped at the pressure.

So did Paige.

Kamiya did it again—slow, firm—letting the friction roll through her center like heat building in waves.

“You feel that?” Kamiya murmured into Paige’s ear. “That’s what you do to me.”

Paige’s fingers dug into her hips. “Fuck…”

Their bodies moved in rhythm, clothed only in underwear now—Kamiya’s lace barely holding on, Paige’s boxer briefs low on her hips, their heat rubbing together in a dance they both needed.

Kamiya arched her back, rolling her hips harder now, dragging herself across Paige’s thigh, her core pulsing with every stroke. Her hands roamed over Paige’s stomach, her chest, her throat.

“You like this?” Kamiya whispered.

Paige groaned. “Yeah. Don’t stop.”

And she didn’t.

She ground down again and again, breath getting faster, thighs shaking slightly as she chased her second high right there—on top of her best friend, her crush, the girl who made her feel everything all at once.

Paige pulled her down into a kiss—messy, deep, open-mouthed—moaning into it as Kamiya’s movements got faster, sloppier.

They were both so close.

Kamiya could feel Paige trembling under her, rocking up to meet her every thrust, both of them panting like they were drowning in it.

Then—Kamiya let out a sharp gasp, body shuddering, hips stuttering.

She came again, grinding into Paige with one last desperate roll of her hips, clinging to her like she never wanted to let go.

And when she looked down, Paige was staring at her like she was the only thing that had ever mattered.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Paige said, completely breathless.

Kamiya smirked, brushing sweaty curls from her forehead.

“Yeah?” she whispered. “Wait ‘til I really get started.”

Paige was panting beneath her, her chest rising and falling fast, lips parted, skin flushed. Kamiya had never seen her like this—so undone, so quiet, so hungry.

And all because of her.

Kamiya leaned down, lips brushing Paige’s ear. “I want to hear you beg.”

Paige groaned softly, already arching toward her. “Please.”

That was all it took.

Kamiya slid down Paige’s body, kissing along her neck, down her chest, taking her time. She kissed the curve of her breasts, sucked one nipple into her mouth, teased the other with her hand until Paige whimpered under her.

When Kamiya looked up, Paige’s eyes were heavy, full of need, like she was seconds from falling apart again.

“You trust me?” Kamiya whispered.

“Yes,” Paige breathed.

“Good.”

She kissed lower, down Paige’s stomach, over her hips, until she reached the waistband of her briefs. Slowly, she pulled them down—watching Paige the entire time. Watching her squirm. Watching her fall apart before anything even happened.

Paige was soaked.

Kamiya smirked, dragging two fingers through the slick heat, slow and deliberate. Paige gasped, hips jerking slightly.

“You’re so wet,” Kamiya said softly, eyes locked on hers. “And it’s all for me.”

She leaned in, pressing a kiss just above Paige’s clit—gentle, teasing. Then she flattened her tongue and licked a slow stripe all the way up.

Paige choked on a moan.

Kamiya didn’t stop. She sucked her clit into her mouth, slow and focused, one hand keeping Paige’s thighs spread while the other slipped two fingers inside—deep, steady.

Paige cried out.

Her hips bucked, hands flying to Kamiya’s hair, clutching at her, grounding herself. Kamiya set a rhythm—mouth and fingers working together, relentless but patient. She didn’t let up, even when Paige started shaking, begging under her breath.

“Fuck, Kamiya—right there—don’t stop—”

She didn’t.

She took Paige higher and higher until her body arched off the bed, thighs trembling, one last broken moan spilling out before she fell apart completely—coming hard, loud, head thrown back, chest heaving.

Kamiya stayed with her, kissing her through it, letting her ride the wave, fingers slowing only when Paige whimpered from the sensitivity.

When she finally crawled back up, Paige grabbed her face and kissed her—deep, messy, grateful.

“You,” Paige said, breath still shaky, “are dangerous.”

Kamiya smiled. “I know.”

They lay there in the quiet, wrapped in each other.

No questions. No labels. Just them.

And maybe—for now—that was enough.

Their bodies were tangled under the sheets, skin still warm, lips swollen, the taste of each other still lingering. The room was quiet now—just the sound of their breathing, slow and steady.

Kamiya lay with her head on Paige’s chest, fingers tracing soft lines over her stomach. Paige’s arm was around her, thumb rubbing slow, lazy circles on her shoulder.

“Do you think we waited too long?” Paige asked, her voice low, almost nervous.

Kamiya tilted her head, pressing a kiss just below Paige’s collarbone. “Maybe. But if it had happened any earlier, I wouldn’t have been ready.”

Paige nodded slowly. “I think I’ve always wanted you.”

Kamiya smiled. “Yeah?”

“Since we were kids. I just didn’t have the words for it back then.”

There was a long pause. Kamiya listened to Paige’s heartbeat, her own starting to slow. For once, everything felt still. Safe.

“You scared me,” Paige added. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

Kamiya looked up, hand moving to cup Paige’s cheek. “You never lost me. Not even when we stopped talking every day. You were still my person.”

Paige’s eyes softened. “You still are mine.”

And for the first time in a long time, Kamiya let herself believe that was true.

⸻

The sunlight was peeking through the blinds when Kamiya stirred awake. Paige was still asleep beside her, her arm draped over Kamiya’s waist like nothing had changed.

But everything had.

Kamiya sat up slowly, careful not to wake her. Her body was sore in the best way, lips still tingling from all the kisses, but her mind was racing.

What now?

She slipped on a hoodie and padded quietly out of the room. Downstairs, Moe was already up, making coffee, and Drew was half-asleep at the kitchen table, scrolling on his phone.

“Morning,” Moe said, raising an eyebrow. “Sleep good?”

Kamiya didn’t answer right away. Just nodded and grabbed a bottle of water.

Her mind was on Paige—how close they’d been just hours ago, how much they’d crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. And now what? Were they… together? Was it just a moment?

She jumped a little when Paige walked in minutes later, hair messy, hoodie half-zipped, biting her lip as their eyes met.

They didn’t say anything.

That silence? It was thick. Loaded.

Drew looked between them and narrowed his eyes. “…Y’all good?”

“Yep,” Kamiya answered too quickly.

Paige nodded too. “Totally.”

But when Kamiya turned away, she felt Paige’s eyes on her back—like she was trying to figure out what to say, but didn’t know how to start.

And that’s when Kamiya realized: last night was perfect, but this morning? This morning was going to decide everything.

Later that day

The cabin was louder than usual—music playing low from someone’s speaker, the grill sizzling outside, voices echoing from the backyard. But Kamiya was upstairs, in the room they shared, sitting on the edge of the bed, twisting a hair tie between her fingers.

The door creaked open softly behind her.

Paige.

She stepped in, shutting the door gently. “Can we talk?”

Kamiya looked up. Her chest was tight, but she nodded.

Paige came to sit beside her, quiet at first. The silence stretched, but this time, it wasn’t tense—it was waiting.

“I didn’t want this to be awkward,” Paige finally said, voice soft. “But I feel like it is.”

Kamiya gave a dry laugh. “Yeah. Kinda hard not to be awkward after what we did.”

Paige turned toward her. “Do you regret it?”

That question hit harder than it should’ve.

Kamiya met her eyes. “No. God, no. I’ve been wanting you for longer than I even knew.”

Paige’s shoulders relaxed just slightly. “Same.”

A pause.

“But I don’t want it to just be something that happened,” Kamiya continued. “I want it to mean something. I want to know if this—us—if it’s real.”

“It is.” Paige’s voice was firm now. “It’s always been real. I’ve liked you forever. Even when we stopped talking as much… it never went away.”

Kamiya swallowed. “So what are we?”

Paige reached over, taking Kamiya’s hand in hers. “We’re whatever you’re ready for. But I want you. Not just at night. Not just in secret. All the way.”

Kamiya’s heart skipped. That was all she needed to hear.

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “Then I’m yours.”

Paige leaned in, kissing her softly—nothing rushed or hungry this time. Just something real. Warm. Safe.

And when they pulled apart, there was no more awkwardness between them.

Just a beginning.

[shurisasthmaticgf]

boyfriend enrichment activities: lando norris x black! fem reader

summary: you and your boyfriend spend a much needed day at the beach.

warnings: swearing

author's note: i thought of this after going to the beach and seeing a guy dig a hole in the sand for a solid four hours...so thanks to that guy for the inspo! as always feedback is highly encouraged and greatly appreciated.

a day at the beach was something that you'd been needing since the start of winter, and now that it was finally beach weather you couldn't wait to enjoy the sun with your boyfriend. the two of you had been working hard, lando was training hard as the season was in full swing while you were balancing your new job and travelling on weekends. although your job was much less physically demanding, you were still exhausted and in much need of a relaxation day.

you both spared a day between race weekends to run off to the beach for the first time in a long time. most times you'd plan everything down to the type of bottled water you'd bring in your cooler but this time you decided to forget the itinerary and just take a few things.

lando carried your oversized beach bag that brought an ache to his shoulder by the time you made it down to the water from the parking lot. meanwhile you carried along your favorite tiny cream colored Jacquemus bag that only fit a pack of tic tacs and a mini lip gloss. in one hand you held your phone and the other a small shovel and bucket set you'd gotten at a store right by the beach.

when the two of you finally found a good spot you laid down a outdoor blanket and your towels on top of it for a softer surface to lay on. you immediately began putting on sun cream, applying it liberally and rolling your eyes when it left a slight white cast against your brown skin. you didn't even have to ask before lando took the bottle and began rubbing the lotion onto your back, brushing your box braids away from your back first. when he was finished you did the same for him and just like that he was gone, running out to the water eagerly as the scorching hot sand burned the bottom of his feet.

you did enjoy the beach and as a kid you spent hours making sandcastles, finding seashells, swimming out to a sandbar for sea biscuits, or playing some ball game with your cousins on the sand during family vacations. however, today you just wanted to lay out and soak up the sun while watching your boyfriend frolic in the sea.

nearly half an hour passed before you felt fat drops of salt water fall onto your face. when you opened your eyes you saw your boyfriend's face mere inches from yours, his curls now dripping onto your skin. you pushed his face lightly with a laugh, "get your soggy ass away from me!" he shook his head and flung salt water onto you earning a screech followed by giggles. you passed him one of the towels from your bag and said, "here dry yourself with this." he wrapped it around himself and sat beside you, "the water is quite nice, it cooled the bottom of my feet after running out there." you hummed as you read the book you brought with you. lando simply watched you but you could tell he was itching to do something, he just didn't know what.

you watched as he eyed your beach bag then unclipped the claw clip from the side of it. he opened and closed it then smiled to himself before using it to sift through sand to find shells he thought you'd like. one by one he began lining them up on your thigh, but you didn't mind, he was in his own world while you were immersed in your book. eventually, gathering shells also grew boring and you'd dozed off with your book beside you and your beach hat covering your face. so, lando took to the sand once more but this time began digging a hole a few meters away from the spot you set up.

there was no telling how long you slept since you didn't know when you dozed off, but when you woke up lando wasn't beside you. grabbing your sunglasses you looked up from where you'd been laying and you nearly choked seeing the gigantic hole he dug in the sand. he noticed you staring at him and beamed, "look at the hole i dug." something about seeing him proud of this stupid sand hole he made just made you laugh even more so when you looked at the children's plastic shovel in his hand.

by the end of the day he was fast asleep and slightly snoring on his towel. you'd gotten him to take a walk with you to take pictures for social media and tried to show him how to balance rocks in a stack which he failed at miserably. the two of you also used the two buckets you had to try and see who could build the best sandcastle. you won with a quite impressive masterpiece but only because your boyfriend built his too close to the water and it got ruined by a large wave that ran right into it as he finished. however, the highlight of your day was finding a horseshoe crab and naming it Persephone then running over to show it to lando thinking he'd find it cool.

he did not find it cool.

he found it rather uncool.

so much so that he ran away screaming for you to put it down as you tried to bring it closer to him.

you smiled at the memory as you gazed at your sleeping boyfriend. after snapping a photo of his sleeping form you slowly you inched closer to him and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. lando's lip twitched into a sleepy smile and you placed a hand on his head, softly grazing his ear with your thumb. your shadow blocked his eyes from the sun as he slowly opened one and looked up to see you with your knees drawn to your chest, your face resting on your thighs. you shushed quietly and said, "go back to sleep, we don't have to leave yet." he let his eye fall back shut and you looked straight ahead at the sea. the turquoise expanse of the sea blurred into the sky's cerulean blue flecked with silvery clouds in the distance drew your attention with passing moments. you let out a soft sigh, smiling to yourself at how corny and cliche this moment seemed to be, yet it was all you needed after all this time. 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆞

callmeyn

liked by landonorris and 934,293 others

callmeyn my job is just...beach ⛱

view all 10,543 comments

alexandrasaintmleux pretty girl <3

⤷ callmeyn that's all you mama 🩵

⤷ charles_leclerc stop flirting with my girlfriend

⤷ callmeyn OUR girlfriend 😒🖐️

⤷ charles_leclerc i didn't agree to that-

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux too bad 😇

f1 it was all too much for little lando norris 🥺

⤷ callmeyn LMAOOOOO

username1 lando finding a horseshoe crab is so on brand 😭

⤷ callmeyn girl please i found Persephone and this man ran away from me yelling "no please!" when i picked her up and tried to show him 💀

mclaren why is my driver standing in a ditch? 🤨

⤷ callmeyn i woke up from a nap and there it was...him standing in it.

⤷ oscarpiastri i could dig a deeper one

⤷ alex_albon i could out dig both of you

⤷ maxverstappen1 i'd win hands down

lilymhe omg the little shells are so cute! 🤭

⤷ callmeyn ikr :(

username2 NEVER DIG STRAIGHT DOWN AT THE BEACH!

⤷ callmeyn don't worry pookie he knows, he just chose to do it anyways! 🥰

username1 stanley yelnats ahh 💀

⤷ callmeyn STANLEY YELNATS- you just unlocked a childhood memory omg

username3 why does my boyfriend do the same thing...

⤷ callmeyn ✨boyfriend enrichment activities✨

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆞

landonorris

by callmeyn and 785,997 others

landonorris use protection

view all 5,325 comments

mclaren ...p-pardon?

username4 WHAT IS THIS CAPTION 😭

username5 Y/N MARRY ME PLS I HAVE A MANSION AND MANY CARS 🙏

⤷ landonorris so do i, try again

⤷ username5 i'm not afraid of horseshoe crabs😈

⤷ username6 HELP HE BLOCKED ME AND I HAD TO MAKE A NEW ACCOUNT 😭😭😭

⤷ callmeyn UNBLOCK HER RIGHT NOW @/landonorris

oscarpiastri you do know you have the option to leave captions empty right 😐

⤷ landonorris i'm advising the public to use sun cream?

danielriccardo wait that's a nice ass sandcastle-

⤷ landonorris why thank you

⤷ callmeyn i'll let you have it since yours got washed away by the ocean at the last second 😁

⤷ f1 oh this is awkward...

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆞

the end.

[ocean-bookss]

❄️ 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ❄️

Leon Kennedy x Reader

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ★

Snow falls gently outside my living room window while the warm glow of fairy lights fills the space with a cozy atmosphere. The scent of cinnamon, oranges, and a hint of mulled wine lingers in the air. My friends are scattered across my couch and armchairs, glasses clinking softly as Jill laughs at one of Carlos' jokes.

"Alright, everyone, before you're all too tipsy, let's do the Secret Santa exchange!" Claire raises her voice above the hum of Christmas music. She's curled up with her legs tucked under her, holding her mulled wine tightly.

My heart sinks into my stomach. The Secret Santa exchange. The gift. Leon. My eyes dart to him briefly. He's sitting a little apart from the others, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, nursing a half-full glass of whiskey. The flickering lights cast shadows across his sharp features, and his thoughtful gaze is focused on the drink in his hand. How can someone look so effortlessly good while just sitting there?

A light nudge on my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts. Jill grins knowingly at me. "Hey, you're practically shaking. You okay, (Y/n)?"

"Yeah, totally fine," I mumble and take another sip from my drink. It's my third, I think. Or my fourth? Who's counting, anyway?

Carlos raises his voice. "Alright, who's up first?"

One by one, we hand out our gifts. Jill bursts out laughing when she unwraps an absurd reindeer onesie from Carlos, Claire squeals over a personalized pocket knife, and Leon gifts Claire a high-end flashlight that looks like it could survive the apocalypse. The mood is light, and the drinks keep flowing.

"Okay," Claire begins, her eyes landing squarely on me. "Your turn, (Y/n)."

My heart is pounding so loudly, I'm sure the others can hear it. I feel everyone's eyes on me, especially Leon's. He looks relaxed but curious.

"Uh, yeah, so..." I clear my throat and stand up. My hands are trembling slightly as I grab the gift from the table. The boxing gloves are neatly wrapped, the vodka bottle securely placed beside them, and the card is carefully tucked between the two. "This is for you, Leon," I say, holding the package out to him.

His icy blue eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. He takes the gift from me, his warm fingers brushing mine, and I can only hope I'm not visibly blushing.

"Thank you, (Y/n)." His voice is deep and calm. "Open it!" Jill calls out excitedly, elbowing Claire, who looks equally invested.

Leon sets his glass down and carefully unwraps the package with an ease that makes me even more nervous. When he pulls out the boxing gloves first, his eyebrows raise slightly.

"Boxing gloves? These are... great. My old ones are pretty worn out." He smiles at me, and my heart skips a beat.

"And vodka," he mutters, holding up the bottle. "You really know how to make a guy happy, (Y/n)."

Claire and Jill shoot me conspiratorial glances, and Carlos chuckles behind his glass. "There's also... a card," I stammer, feeling the last bit of courage draining from me. Leon pulls out the card and opens it. My heart stops, and I forget how to breathe entirely. His eyes scan over the words, and then he looks back up at me. His gaze is warm, soft, but also... surprised?

"'If you're up for it, I'd love to take you out to dinner. Just the two of us.'" Leon reads the words aloud softly, then lowers the card.

Silence fills the room, and I'm pretty sure Claire and Jill are practically boring holes into us with their stares.

Leon stands up and takes a step toward me. I'm frozen in place, unable to move an inch.

"Thanks for the gifts, (Y/n)." His smile is gentle, and his eyes hold an expression I can't quite decipher. "I'd really like that."

A massive weight lifts from my chest, and I can't stop the wide smile spreading across my face. "Really? I mean... cool! That's great."

"I'm looking forward to it." He slips the card into his jacket pocket and lifts the vodka bottle slightly. "Maybe we can crack this open on our date."

Jill can't hold it in any longer. "Finally! Oh my God!"

"Hey, hey, don't scare them off now," Carlos says, holding up his hands in mock surrender, but he's grinning widely.

Leon shakes his head slightly, trying to hide a smirk. "Thank you, (Y/n). Really. This is one of the best gifts I've received in a long time."

"I'm... I'm glad you like it," I reply honestly, and this time, I meet his gaze without looking away.

The music continues to play, and the others settle back into their spots. Leon sits back in his armchair, but this time, he glances over at me more often. And every time our eyes meet, I feel a warm flutter in my stomach.

─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─

Later That Night

The others have already made themselves comfortable in my guest rooms, and the apartment has fallen quiet. Only I remain in the kitchen, clearing away the last of the glasses. "You're still up?" Leon's voice makes me jump slightly. He's leaning against the doorframe, hands tucked into the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

"Yeah, I... just wanted to clean up a bit."

He steps closer, leaning casually against the kitchen counter. "Thank you again for the gift. And the invitation."

I smile shyly. "No problem. I thought... it might be a nice idea."

"It was." He smiles softly, and for a moment, it feels like time stops.

We stand there in silence for a moment. Then Leon pushes away from the counter and steps closer to me.

"Merry Christmas, (Y/n)."

"Merry Christmas, Leon."

Before I can even process what's happening, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. His lips are warm and gentle, and I'm pretty sure my heart just stopped beating.

When he pulls back, there's a faint smile on his face. "Good night."

He turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving me standing there, frozen in place. My hand instinctively rises to my cheek, and I can't stop the wide grin from spreading across my face.

Maybe this Christmas wasn't just another night with friends. Maybe it was the start of something beautiful.

─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─

Oneshot Collection on Wattpad !

[phan3145]

Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Intensity, implications) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

***NOTES: Finally a chapter with a decent length. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me along this story’s journey. I would love to hear more from you guys, what you think of the chapter, or any predictions for what might happen! Tagging @imaginarydreams

Chapter 7: At Odds

You

It wasn’t long after Noa left that you found sleep again. It wasn’t completely restful though, odd dreams and quick flashes of memory plagued you until you woke up once more. You sighed, eyes cracking open to steal a glance towards the opening by your fire, noting it was barely dawn, the cool blue tone of morning still reflecting along the sides of the rock. You closed your eyes again, wanting just a little bit more time, hoping that if you went back to sleep now it would be dreamless.

You blamed the visions on your conversation with Noa, reawakening thoughts and feelings you buried a long time ago. You knew whatever peace you found last night wouldn’t last, but even you had to admit this was a little too soon. You heard a faint scratching of rock next to you, and you groaned internally. Bringing your hands up to rub at you eyes, you wondered if a bird had gotten in.

You turned your head, suddenly coming face to face with brown eyes, auburn fur, and white teeth. Your own eyes widened, frozen in place as you stared at the predator in front of you. It’s body was lithe, crouched in a position that suggested it was ready to either leap or dash away. Your eyes focused then on its mouth, open but not snarling or frothing. No rabies then, but not necessarily a non-threat. It was studying you just as you studied it, each of you waiting for the other to move.

You slowly placed a hand on the edge of your bed, the red tail fox sniffing and inching closer as you did. This surprised you, having come across foxes before and never experiencing this level of naïve curiosity in them before. In the past, they had let out a horrendous screeching noise before dashing away into the woods. Your mom had loved the creatures, saying they reminded her of domesticated cats that used to roam free when she was a child. She never explained what happened to them, only that they no longer existed. She had modeled your shelter after the foxes’ homes apparently, which also explained why she called it a burrow. The engineering was smart though, having two different ways of getting in and out, one obvious, the other hidden in case of a predator cornering you.

The fox paused as you tentatively pushed yourself into a sitting position, its eyes lingering before darting to the left. You looked then to the ledge a foot away from you. The half eaten salmon that Noa gave you, still wrapped in the leaf, sat there cold and untouched. The fox was hungry…and desperately so if it was willing to get so close to you. You leaned over hesitantly, not wanting to spook it, and grabbed the fish.

It whined then, almost sounding like a laugh as it swayed left then back right. That’s when you noticed the protruding ribs. Foxes were meant to be thin, but not that thin. Its mouth opened in another whine, tongue lolling out slightly as it raised its paw only to put it back down exactly where it had been. You chuckled, looking at the fish in your hand, then to the fox. It was waiting patiently. You leaned forward, ready to spring back if it decided to lunge at you instead of the volunteered meat. It sniffed at the offering in your hand, head inching closer before snatching the fish from you. It paused a moment, as if surprised how easy that had been, then spinning around and scurrying towards your entrance. It stopped again, looking back at you once more, before squirming it’s way through the crack between the rock and cave wall, dashing away into the woods.

You let out a breath in surprise, wondering if that had actually happened. You didn’t need to pinch your arm, the ache in your shoulder reminding you that you were in fact awake. Then you wondered if its burrow was somewhere nearby, surprisingly not concerned for yourself, but for the creature. It seemed so hungry, and you were aware there was not a lot of small game in the area. The sickening thought that you might be over hunting the woods of what little game there was, made your stomach drop.

You looked to your makeshift kitchen…no more meat. There were only two baskets of fruit remaining, and normally today you would go out and hunt for rabbit or squirrel before meeting the apes. You breathed in deeply, shaking your head as you pushed yourself up from your bed. You would need to wash your sheets tomorrow during bathing day...and also remember to wash the blood from your forehead. Until then, you grabbed an apple, your spear, and fishing line, deciding to get your day started.

The salmon had been good last night, at least until your stomach tried to reject it during your emotional trip down memory lane. You usually didn’t eat it, knowing the apes frequently visited the creek and fish was part of their food supply. Now that you had built a relationship, if you could call it that, with three of them, you decided now was the best time to include more fish in your diet. It wouldn’t kill you to eat fish and fruit for awhile, instead of squirrel and rabbit.

Something fluttered in your heart then as a passing thought rocketed through your mind. If you happened to have an extra fish, and the fox came back, it would be such a shame not to feed it. Waste not, want not and all that. The apes had their eagles after all, so inter-species companionship wasn’t inherently a human trait. If you could befriend an ape, why not a fox? At least, you wanted to try.

Your time with the apes, while new and strange, recently reminded you of just how alone you were. You relied on their persistent presence now, dreading days you knew you wouldn’t see them. You enjoyed living alone, but not necessarily being alone…to be the only living thing in a space was unnerving sometimes. Solitude was a blessing and a curse in that regard. You could never domesticate an Eagle like the apes…but a fox? Maybe. As you squeezed yourself through your entrance, huffing slightly from the effort, you made your way towards the creek. Might as well get there early and work on dinner before the apes came to learn.

You were reminded then of the books, knowing you hadn’t seen them in your burrow last night or this morning. You recalled Noa placing them into his satchel before the boar attacked, hopefully they were still with him. It was Noa after all, he seemed to think of everything. You groaned then, vividly reminded oh how the two of you had parted last night. You had been flustered and slightly awkward, which caused you to flush from embarrassment all over again. What exactly had you even been thinking at the time?

Noa was a friend, an ally if nothing else. His touch last night was nothing more than an attempt to soothe you after an emotional moment, but something about it had left a lingering impact on your senses. You recalled every second of that exchange in vivid detail, to the point you could almost still feel the warmth of his hand on your body now. You shook the thought from your head, reminding yourself about the truth behind his touch. It was to comfort, and to serve his own goals. He told you as much, wanting to make you more comfortable around apes in the future. You couldn’t deny that, he even said he wanted to build off the fact his touch didn’t bother you.

At the time, your mind had been too muddled to really think about his words, but now? His frequent touch may shock you, surprise you even if you’re unprepared, but you agreed it didn’t bother you. You had to admit, if only to yourself, all the times you’ve flinched from it, it’s never been in disgust or a desire to get away from him. It hadn’t been, not since that first day. He wasn’t Gol, and you were very aware of that. The day you two met he had been gentle with you, reassured you, and though it had scared you at the time, he had protected you. He didn’t know you, but he had been willing to throw his body over yours so you wouldn’t get hurt. Noa’s touch was protective and gentle, and that’s why you flinched from it.

Now, because you responded after he showed you that same gentleness and kindness, you were worried about facing him. All you really did was hold his hand! How ridiculous was that? Maybe Noa was right, maybe you were jumbled. At the very least, you were hungry. You took a bite of your apple then, the juice dribbling down your chin. You wiped it away, noting that you were already off to a fantastic start as a teacher. You forgot about your books and you were scared to face your students. Then there was the glaring issue, that you had never had to teach anyone anything before. You had always been the student, and swapping roles made you nervous. You wanted to be a good teacher, hoping to be patient and well spoken as you explained how the English language worked. The apes were quick learners and highly intelligent, so that would certainly help you. And, in all fairness, how hard could teaching adults really be?

…

Surprisingly, it was easier than you thought. Teaching the trio words using the alphabet as association had been simple enough, even if they never heard of the animals in the book. Explaining a lion to the apes took longer than you would have liked to admit, same went for a tiger. You had to promise to get a book on zoology the next time you went to the library before they agreed to focus back on the lesson.

It wasn’t until the third lesson a week later that you realized your mistake. They were learning words, but the individual letters? Not so much. Forming individual syllables seemed to be hard for the apes, Anaya more so than Noa or Soona. At least, that’s what you thought up until right now.

“Wait,” you stopped Noa’s reading mid phrase. You leaned over his shoulder, pointing to a specific line in the middle of the page, “Read this line right here.”

Noa was uncharacteristically shy now. You saw his eyes scanning the words at the top, mouth twitching in phantom movement. You groaned, slightly impressed by his ability to trick you as you accused, “You memorized the book the last time I read it with you, didn’t you?”

Noa’s mouth pulled into a thin line, sniffing once, “Too simple, easy to remember.”

You sighed, “That’s not the point Noa. That’s not reading, that’s memorization. I can’t go around reading everything to you first. And neither can Soona.”

Soona was the star pupil between the apes, putting in the hard work to understand the individual letters. She had already finished her first book, and was starting on her second. She was saving Stellaluna to read to you on her first go, wanting instead to start on Anaya’s books after she finished this one for more practice. You thought that was odd, but if that was her goal you weren’t going to tell her she couldn’t do it. It was rare she asked for your help, choosing to use the Learning Your ABC’s book as a comparison as she sounded out words. You had to admit, her technique was far superior to anything you came up with when learning to read as a child.

She hooted her amusement at your scolding, “Would not help Noa…if he asked anyway….same teacher…same books…can learn himself.”

Noa huffed, flipping the book closed before turning away, “Choose another book…know this one.”

You raised a brow, picking up the book and opening it to a random page, “Are you telling me you can’t read this because you’ve memorized it that quickly? What if I point at individual words?”

Noa hesitated, “Still will remember…you reading it…not on purpose.”

You ran your hand through your hair then, placing the book on the rock a few feet from you. This time last week you thought keeping yourself focused on teaching around Noa would be your biggest struggle. That, or keeping him focused. When he was determined there was little you could do to distract his mind, and you feared he might want to work on building up your tolerance to ape touch instead of learning to read. Thankfully, that had not been the case. Unfortunately however, he had been so determined that he remembered everything you read or showed him. It wasn’t necessarily a bad problem to have, he had certain words memorized, but it did produce the challenge that he could not replicate Soona’s success. He tried to fill in the blanks instead of actually breaking down the words and sounding them out.

You took a deep breath, turning to glance at Anaya now. He was struggling with the first page of his book still. He could understand vowels, but had a hard time grasping the sound of consonants. Much like Noa, he could memorize a word once he heard someone speak it while reading, but had a hard time hearing the sounds on his own. Maybe putting them together would lead to better results?

“Anaya,” you called softly. When he looked up, you motioned him over to where you and Noa sat, “We’re going to do some group work, can you come over here and sit next to Noa? Bring your book too, please.”

He looked absolutely miserable, half walking half dragging himself over before plopping down next to his Sunset Brother. Noa noticed his defeated look, hand coming up to clasp his shoulder, but Anaya shrugged him off. He curled into himself more, crossing his arms and letting his head rest on top of them before sighing. You truly felt bad for him, giving a small thumbs up as you asked, “Are you okay?”

Anaya looked to you, eyes darting towards your hand before returning to your face. He shook his head then, looking away as he signed, Anaya stupid.

“Hey!” You said a little more sternly than you probably should have. Both apes in front of you stared with surprised eyes, silent as you continued, “You are not stupid. Don’t call yourself that again. You’re learning, and yes, it’s going to take time and it’s going to be frustrating, but I know you. You can do this, Anaya.”

Anaya, apparently still not up for words, signed, Soona not frustrated. Soona learn fast.

You gave Anaya a half smile, “Don’t compare yourself to Soona. Everyone is different, everyone has different strengths and weaknesses. Look at me, I can’t jump or climb like any of you can. I can read, because I learned at a young age, but I can’t fish half as well as you Anaya. Soona can braid and weave baskets, because she learned at a young age, but she can’t leap as far as you or Noa. And of course Noa, he uh…”

As your gaze turned to said ape, you lost your train of thought. He was looking at you again, the same way he had that night in your burrow. Those intensely green irises reflected warmth and sincerity that froze the very breath in your lungs. Thankfully, Anaya picked up where you left off, admitting, “Noa…is…good leader…cares for Eagle Clan…but thinks too much.”

Anaya hooted as Noa’s head jerked sideways to glare at him, letting out an offended huff. You chuckled, grateful for the distraction so you could catch your breath. “See? Strengths and weaknesses. No one started out good at any of those things though, they had to learn and grow into it. Just don’t give up so soon, okay?”

Anaya gave you a half smile and a thumbs up, mumbling, “Okay, Echo.”

Soona had remained silent during this exchange, seated under the tree behind you, but grunted now to get your attention. You turned then, seeing her arm outstretched with the Learning Your ABCs book. You leaned over, taking it and signing Thank you before returning your attention to the male apes in front of you. To say you were at a loss for what to do was an understatement. You imagined Noa memorized the alphabet the same way he did his other book, so you weren’t sure how this would be much help. You ran a hand through your hair once more in frustration, kneeling on the ground in front of the apes and beginning to draw in the dirt with your finger. You had one idea that might break through some barriers.

They watched your scribbling with curiosity. You held your breath as you studied the upside down letters to make sure they were right for the apes. You pointed to Anaya then, handing him the book, “Anaya, I want you to use this like Soona does. Try to read what I’ve written, and if you can’t remember a sound, find the letter in the book and use the example.”

Anaya nodded as you pivoted over to Noa, doing the same thing for him. His word was relatively easier to write upside down, and you hoped making it personal for the two apes would bring out their desire to learn again. You wiped your hands on your pants once you were done, “Noa, this one is yours. Same thing, try to figure it out.”

You scooted over to Anaya then, who was staring at his word in confusion. You leaned into him, gently nudging his shoulder, “Sound it out. One letter at a time.”

Anaya pointed, “ A. A. A…sounds like aaaaaape.”

You giggled, “Okay, that’s a start. What about the other two letters?”

Anaya huffed, frantically turning pages in the book, “N…nest and…Y…yarn.”

“Very good,” you smiled. “Now, put all the letters together. Try to sound them out. If they don’t sound right, remember that vowels have a big sound and a little sound.”

Anaya had a few false starts before pushing out, “A…NA…Y..A …that does not sound…like a word.”

You pointed at the first A then, “Okay, so let’s try changing the sounds. Instead of ape, what else can this sound like?”

“Apple,” Anaya immediately supplied.

“Yes!” You encouraged, “Now, try it again until it sounds right.”

You saw the wheels in his head turning, mouth moving over the syllables until you saw the dots connect. Anaya looked up at you then, pants of air followed by hoots as he stood from the ground. You smiled as he pointed to himself, swaying back and forth, “Anaya…is Anaya…my name…is my name!”

“That’s right!” You cheered.

Anaya seemed in brighter spirits at least, pacing back over to Noa and his word. You hoped that Anaya hadn’t given away Noa’s own word by cheering for his success. You watched as Noa seemed puzzled by the letters in front of him. You crouched down to his level then, “What are you struggling with?”

“Thought…it was my name…but now…not sure.” He grunted.

“You thought?” You asked, confused. It was his name, what was he not understanding?

Noa pointed at each letter then, making the big sound for each one, “N…O…A…H…NoAHa….does not make sense.”

“Oh,” you said, understanding his confusion. “So, same thing with Anaya. A does not always mean A. Remember big sounds and little sounds?”

He tried it once more, but still curled his lip at the end. He kept putting a small A at the end of the H. You tried to breathe out an example of what an H sounds like, but when he tried to copy you it still came out as Ha. You reached for his hand then, bringing it closer to your mouth as you explained, “No, you’re going too hard on the H. It’s not a war cry. You’re going, Ha, like there’s an A on it. I need you to say it softer, breathe with it. Like this.”

You breathed out several quick H sounds onto his hand. You locked eyes with him, but he looked even more confused as he stared at you. Sitting up straighter, you angled his hand, turning your head slightly so you were sure he could see your mouth. You held his gaze, pointing to yourself with your free hand as you said, “Watch my lips, feel my breath at the end. NoaH… NoaH… NoaH.”

You breathed and put emphasis on each of the H’s, watching Noa tense on the second pronunciation of his name. On the third, you noticed him lean away from you, the hairs along his neck and shoulders raising. When you were done, silence engulfed the four of you. Noa looked more than confused now, while you could only guess Soona’s expression since she was still at your back, and Anaya’s head swiveled between Noa and you with a slack jaw. For a moment, you worried you had done or said something weird in their language from the way they were reacting.

You let go of Noa’s hand then, which remained suspended in the air a second or two longer, before it dropped into his lap like dead weight. You looked between the trio then, finally having the guts to ask, “What? Did I do something wrong?”

Everything seemed to happen at once then. Soona screeched in laughter, startling you as you jerked around to look at her. She was holding her stomach, as if it physically hurt her to laugh, which in all fairness was a rare occurrence for her. You heard a Thud then, turning away from Soona to see Anaya on the ground, rolling around as he hooted and pointed at you. Or, at least you thought he was pointing at you.

A low rumble came from Noa’s chest, and while it should probably have concerned you, you had a feeling it wasn’t directed at you. In fact, Noa wasn’t even looking at you now. Anaya shot up then, hobbling on all fours to be next to Noa, signing so rapidly you couldn’t keep up. Soona’s hooting, which started to die down, seemed to come back with a vengeance at whatever Anaya was saying. Noa attempted to look away from Anaya, but the chimp leaned his body around his shoulder to continue whatever he was saying.

Finally, Noa tried to swat away Anaya’s hands, who did not stop his signing, skillfully dodging Noa’s attempts. Noa leaned over, trying to cover his hands now with his own, but once again, Anaya was too quick. He rolled sideways, shuffling over by you, hooting in amusement as he slowed his signs, allowing you to catch a handful of words.

Noa…upset…Echo…private…learn…happy…

You opened your mouth to ask what you were missing when Noa, in a tone you had never heard him use, something between a growl and a yell, boomed, “No!”

All three of you had the same reaction, freezing as muscles grew tense and silence struck you like an arrow. You couldn’t see Soona’s reaction, but you saw Anaya crouch low and duck his head in submission. You felt your breath come in harsher as your heart rate spiked, eyes wide as you stared at Noa in confusion and unease. You must have done something wrong after all. He was taking deep breaths through his nose, something he only did when he was irritated, and after that yell…you decided it was best if you apologized.

You found the courage to open your mouth again, snapping it shut when Noa raised his hand to halt you. His eyes locked on to yours then, nostrils flaring now as he continued to breathe deeply. Anaya’s left arm was placed in front of you then, his body leaning forward and pushing himself out of his submissive stance, closer now to Noa than he had been. He signed with his right hand, phrases you couldn’t see as his shoulder blocked your line of sight. You twitched in surprise when Soona’s hand landed on your left shoulder. You looked up, seeing a determined look in her eye that matched Anaya’s while standing behind you. It didn’t seem like they were challenging Noa…but there was a warning there you couldn’t decipher the cause of.

Everything felt too tense, and you couldn’t understand what you could have possibly said in their language to garner such a reaction, but you filed it away to never do again. Noa’s eyes darted between Soona and Anaya, looking uncomfortable, using his mouth to release quick gusts of air, before you heard his breathing start to return to its normal rhythm. He looked away from the three of you then, staring down at his name in the dirt. You brushed Anaya’s arm aside as you said, “I’m sorry Noa, if what I did ‘upset’ you. It was not my intention. I won’t do it again.”

You copied the sign that Anaya made for ‘upset’ as you apologized, pulling Noa’s attention back to you in that moment. He flinched when he saw the sign, looking concerned before shaking his head, “Not…upset.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, feeling that the opposite was true. Noa used the back of his hand then to roughly swipe at the dirt in front of him. Looking down, you saw the H had been wiped away. Noa pointed to each letter as he read, “N…O…A…my name…Noa.”

You smiled again, “Alright, Noa with no H. It was mainly silent anyway. At least now you know what your name looks like.”

He hummed in response. Soona tapped your shoulder then, apparently she also wrote in the dirt. You turned, seeing her spelled out S O O N A in clean strokes on the ground. You smiled at her, leaning to nudge your shoulder with hers, “Very good. I’m so proud of you.”

She smiled back, writing another word before underlining it.

M A L E S

You snickered, causing the other two apes to rush over and see what she had written. Noa and Anaya both sounded the word out before saying it out loud. You were surprised, watching as they pointed at each other. Apparently, friendly competition was a good incentive. You tucked that away for later as well.

Noa turned to you then, “Your…name?”

You sighed, trying not to look bitter as you scrawled your name in the dirt. The letters stared back at you, almost mockingly. You hadn’t seen your name spelled out in so long, and even though Noa said it recently in the library, it was hardly ever spoken anymore. It was as temporary as it’s dirt form, only here as long as you made sure it was.

Speaking of Noa, he stood over your shoulder now, staring intently at the letters. You shuffled to your left as he leaned over to trace the pathing of your letters with his own fingers. He let out a low hum in thought, concentrating as he began to replicate each one below your original markings. He took his time, saying each letter out loud until he finished. He paused, drawing a line under your name before he whispered it, almost to himself.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, ignoring the small swoop in your stomach as you turned fully towards him. He smiled, that same smile he gifted you when your arms were entwined a week ago, in your burrow. You swallowed thickly, clearing your throat before you found your voice enough to say, “That’s very good Noa, I’m impressed. I’ll be more impressed if you can do it in a few days without an example in front of you.”

You stood then on nervous feet, stretching your arms and spine in a deep arch, hearing a few bones pop before letting out a small groan of satisfaction. The apes ability to sit on the ground for so long astounded you. You turned to Noa first, then Anaya, “We have a little bit more time before we lose the light and I need to head back to my shelter. You should read Soona’s Goodnight Moon, I know you haven’t memorized it so it should pose a bit of a challenge. And Anaya, do you want me to help you with Green Eggs and Ham?”

He nodded enthusiastically, practically running towards the pile of books on the nearby rock. He shuffled through them, but turned back to you a moment later looking anxious, “Not…there!”

Your brows furrowed, “What? I don’t understand, Soona do you have it?”

You pivoted to the female ape, who quickly paced back to her tree, checking her three-tiered stack before shaking her head. You were about to turn back to Noa, to ask him the same question, when his arm came around your body to place the book in question in your line of sight. You let out a sigh of relief, the words ‘thank you’ on the tip of your tongue when you felt his lips graze your ear and breathe out, “Here.”

The action alone caused a shiver to run up your spine, but the emphasized H and heat of his breath on your neck, forced a startled inhale from you. The air hissed through your teeth and rattled your lungs as you took a step forward. You whipped around to face him then, right hand coming up to cover your ear as you gaped. You hadn’t even realized he had risen from his place on the ground. He looked completely innocent to his deeds, seeming shocked by your reaction, but you knew better. As always, his eyes expressed everything his mouth and body language did not. You saw that playfulness, that mirth that was rarely displayed by the leader of the Eagle Clan. Except of course, when he was around his Sunset Brother and Sunset Sister. Except, apparently, when he was around you.

Anaya hooted lowly, teasing, “Noa…scared Echo.”

“Not scared,” you replied as you stared Noa down. “Thank you for the book in any case. Soona, can you sit with Noa, make sure he’s actually trying, please?”

She hummed in agreement as you made your way towards Anaya, and Noa moved to sit with Soona. You felt the brush of his fur against your bare arm and thought for a second that it was deliberate, but decided it must be your imagination acting up after his teasing. Still, you felt your own hair react to him, rubbing discreetly at the pebbled flesh along your arms. This was getting out of hand.

…

By the end of the day, the two male apes had turned a corner, showing real progress. You felt confident when you stopped and decided to send everyone home. It was twilight, just enough time for you to make it back to your burrow before a friendly visitor, hopefully, made an appearance. You had caught three fish, enough for dinner and breakfast, and one to spare. You were excited, having something to look forward to as you went home.

Anaya waved goodbye, his own catch hanging from his fishing rod as he made packed his things, two apples clasped tightly in hand. One for him, and one for his horse. Now that the apes were making frequent visits to the creek, they chose to ride on horseback to get there. You were fine with it, as long as it saved them time. You felt bad for the horses though, being tied up somewhere for hours waiting for the apes to go home, so you’d taken to bringing fruit that was a couple days away from spoiling for them. They deserved a treat for being so patient.

Soona was next, hand reaching up to cup the back of your head, she didn’t pull you in like you expected, but she smiled before nodding her head and releasing you. You returned her smile, nodding in return as she prepared to mount her horse. Jumping up onto the saddle, she settled before clicking her tongue, both her and Anaya trotting off in the direction of their village. You were confused by this, noticing Noa dawdling by his own stallion.

You took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before making your way over to him. He was feeding his horse the apple you had given him, patting its neck affectionately. You chuckled then, shifting the books you were holding to one arm. You jabbed your thumb back in the direction of the retreating apes, “You do realize you’re outnumbered now, right?”

Noa hummed, “Horse…is on my side.”

“As it eats the apples I brought.” You scoffed, pulling another apple from your own bag and letting the horse snatch it up from your hand. You were feeling good about your statement, when you heard a faint screech somewhere above you. You ducked, just in time to see Eagle Sun land on the saddle of the horse. He bobbed a moment, eyes trained on you as his talons readjusted themselves. You sighed, “I stand corrected, we are perfectly matched.”

Noa chuckled, “No…you are right…outnumbered…Eagle Sun…never on my side.”

“What is it with you and this bird?” You asked, hand gently outstretched to Eagle Sun. You remained wary of him, sometimes just as temperamental to touch as you were. Instead of the warning peck you were accustomed to receiving when he didn’t want your touch, he simply elongated his neck so you could give him his cherished chin scratches. “After all, he follows you, keeps an eye out for danger, and acts pretty calm around others. He seems like a sweetheart to me.”

Noa’s gaze lingered on you and Eagle Sun, before he confessed, “Was my father’s bird…we did not always…get along…we bonded…only after he died.”

Your hand froze, Eagle Sun tilting his head upwards to see what had caused you to stop, “You never told me that before.”

Noa shrugged both shoulders, “Never…had reason to.”

That was fair, it wasn’t often Eagle Sun made an appearance, choosing to fly free while Noa occupied his time with you. The few rare times the bird did choose to interact with you, it was usually because he wanted attention, or the food you were eating. You tilted your head, watching Noa shift from foot to foot, “Is there something else you want to tell me? Something you want to talk about?”

Noa looked down to the books in your hand, reaching for them and opening his saddle bag. You didn’t protest, simply asked, “Are you taking them back to practice more?”

“No,” he said simply. “Easier to…walk this way.”

“Walk?” You parroted. “Are you not going to ride?”

Noa shook his head, “No…you are…I am walking…you out.”

Your lips twitched upwards, a giggle threatening to burst out of you at the misuse of your phrase, but he was simply too endearing to laugh at. You figured this meant he did want to talk though, and decided to let him open up on his terms. Noa ushered Eagle Sun away from the saddle, the bird squawking once before taking off and landing somewhere in the nearby trees. You didn’t see where he landed, but knew he wasn’t far. You took the opportunity to step into the stirrup and hoist yourself up, before he thought to fly back.

You groaned under your breath, lingering tension in your legs reminding you what happened the last time you had been on Noa’s horse. He brushed knuckles along your outer thigh, “Still sore…prefer to walk?”

You waved him off, “No, I’ll be fine. Humans heal slower than apes I think, and you know, I’m not used to riding.”

Noa reached for the reigns, guiding his horse in the direction of your burrow as he hummed, “Not far…will get used to it…after a moon cycle.”

You tried to remember how long that was, but found yourself distracted by the colors smeared across the skyline. Soft pinks, purples, and a heady dark blue swirled against the clouds, creating a masterpiece that would never be seen again once the black of night overtook it. You glanced back to Noa, his focus solely on the path forward. You didn’t enjoy his silence, as you normally would. This one felt different, full of unspoken tension, like Noa was holding something back.

Your mind began to wander, and you couldn’t stop the question that slipped from your mouth, “Do you see in color like I do?”

Noa’s head turned sharply to glance at you, feet steady as he continued to walk, “Think so…how would I know…if we see things…differently?”

You pointed to the sky in the distance, “What colors do you see there?”

Noa was quiet a moment, “Blue…purple…black…light red.”

“Light red? Do you mean pink?” You asked, leaning forward in the saddle to be closer to the ape.

“Same thing.” Noa chuffed, “Like light red…better.”

“To each their own,” you hummed. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re walking me out?”

Noa was quiet. If not for the fact that you were so close to him, you might have thought he didn’t hear you, but by the extra power he suddenly added to his stride, you knew he had. You bit the inside of your cheek, sitting up again and fighting the urge to say anything else. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Need to…explain…a few things.” Noa said, sounding somewhat reluctant.

“Okay.” You asked, “Do you want to explain them now while we’re walking, or back at the burrow where you’ll have my full attention?”

Noa seemed to actually consider the question before replying, “Now is…good.”

“Alright then, Master of Birds,” you teased. “What needs explained?”

Noa sighed through his nose, “Before…when things were…tense…during the lesson…I did not mean to scare you.”

“Which time?” You asked.

Noa grunted, “When I was…loud.”

That certainly caught your attention, originally thinking he meant when he had whispered in your ear. You leaned forward again, “It seemed to me you were just processing what happened. I didn’t mean to do what I did, then Soona and Anaya’s reactions were…a lot. It’s understandable you were upset and lost your temper.”

Noa’s head seemed to bend slightly, admitting, “Was not…upset.”

“Not to argue, but if that’s not you upset, I would hate to see what you look like when you are actually angry,” you said playfully.

Noa stopped then, turning and making two different signs. The second one was upset, but you weren’t sure what the first one was. As if hearing your thoughts, Noa responded, “This is upset…what Anaya signed was this… it means bothered.”

You felt your body curl inwards, “I didn’t mean to bother you either. I have to admit, that’s a pretty small distinction for apes. Upset, bothered, annoyed…”

“Not that type…of bothered.” Noa confessed, urging his horse forward again.

You sat there, trying to figure out what bothered could possibly mean if not annoyed. Apes sometimes twisted or altered words, like echo, depending on the need it seemed to fill. Finally, you asked, “Bothered how, if not in the annoyed or upset way?”

“Same way…as you.” Noa said, head swiveling to look at you for a moment before turning back. “When I practiced…my small H sound.”

Another moment of confusion, then you felt your heart stutter to a stop, your breathing following suit. Your mouth went dry, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t think of a single word to say. Noa not only recognized your response to him, but apparently had felt the same way you did, when you had-…breathed on his hand while calling his name. Now you were the one who felt stupid.

How embarrassing

A hand came up to cover your eyes as you winced. No matter how innocent that had been in your mind, intimacy wasn’t solely a human thing. You had tried to show Noa like you would a child, but he was not a child. He reacted like any normal adult human, or ape, would. Oh, God. How uncomfortable he must have been in that moment, while you sat there confused and clueless.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, the only phrase that felt appropriate at the moment.

Noa hummed, huffing once before admitting, “I am sorry…Anaya signed something after…as a joke…and I…reacted poorly.”

Something inside of your brain screamed not to ask, but your mouth listened to the other part that just had to know. “What did he say?”

“Suggested,” Noa began, seeming to think about his choice of words. “Echo stay with me…in the village…would be happy to be taught…just you and me…no other apes around…it reminded me…of you…as a pet...made me…angry.”

The implication was there, but you chose to ignore it in favor of, “You didn’t tell Anaya or Soona about my history with apes…did you? Anaya never would have suggested something like that if he knew.”

Noa grunted, “Not…my…place.”

You thought about it for a moment, then asked, “Do you think they would treat me differently, if they knew?”

“Yes.” Noa answered immediately. He seemed to reconsider his one word answer before adding, “Would not do it…on purpose…would not want to scare…or hurt you...they are…good apes.”

You sighed, noticing your burrow up ahead, “It’s probably best they don’t know for now, then. I like the way things are between us, I don’t want things to change.”

“Apes say,” Noa began, stopping his horse and tying the reins to a nearby tree. “Change is nature…cannot control it…or stop it…only embrace it…as it happens.”

You patted the horse’s neck and mane as Noa finished the knot and looped back around to you. You snorted, “That sounds very wise, but here’s a little known fact about humans. We don’t like change. We actively try to avoid change. We like the security of the same thing everyday.”

“You…need change.” Noa insisted, hands reaching for you as you swung your left leg over the saddle.

You let him wrap an arm around your waist as you made to slide down, your own hands bracing on both of his shoulders. “So says, the Master of Birds. You think you know what I need?”

Your feet were not sure as they landed on the ground, but you did not stumble as Noa’s other hand came to wrap around your side and brace your back. He basically held your entire weight, only letting you take it back once he felt your legs lock in place. He glanced down briefly between the two of you, acknowledging your feet were on solid ground before his eyes darted back to meet yours. That intensity that was always there, burned now with a new type of determination as he said, “Yes.”

You felt the fingers of your left hand inadvertently tighten on his shoulder, grazing the skin underneath his fur. When that happened, you felt Noa subtly shift in place, somehow closer to you now. His hands trailed from their hold along your back, skimming down your sides, before stopping to rest on your hips. You found yourself caught in his gaze, trapped again at what you perceived as something dangerous in front of you. Only, this time, the sense of danger was completely different. He tilted his head slightly, eyes wandering across your face like you were a puzzle he was trying to solve. He sighed through his nose then, head beginning to tilt downward before something over your shoulder caught his eye.

Just as quickly as his focus shifted behind you, did he react. You were thrown behind him before your could blink, barely having time to process the movement as he screeched and yelled. You turned, watching him charge on all fours after the offending creature, growling, “Get away…shoo…Pest!”

You could have cried, seeing the fox you had been secretly feeding for the past week yip and whimper, trying to stand its ground against Noa. But Noa was bigger, scarier, growling and hissing as he circled and chased after it. You ran to stop him, calling out, “No! It isn’t hurting anyone Noa, just leave it alone.”

Too late, the fox whined and chirped as it is was chased off. You heard the leaves and rustling of bushes, but lost sight of it after a few seconds. Noa was panting, face scrunched as he snarled and grunted a final warning to the empty woods. Then you saw the harsh lines ease, canines retreating back behind his lips as he moved to stand on two legs. You had never been reminded so harshly before that he was an ape. It was a startling contrast to the intimate position you two had been in just seconds ago, and something in your stomach turned.

“Why did you do that?” You half whispered, somewhat breathless yourself.

Noa turned to you then, concerned as he pointed in the distance, “That…was a fox…not safe.”

Your brows furrowed, “But it wasn’t hurting-”

“Not…safe.” Noa interrupted with a final huff. “Predator…has attacked Eagles…nuisance that apes…usually kill on sight…in the village…cannot trust vermin…like that…pest needs to be…driven away…or will bring harm…to you…as all pests tend to do.”

You felt the blood in your veins, which had felt so warm moments ago, freeze. You had never been at odds with Noa before, and his resolve seemed absolute in this. It also showed you that once you had made an enemy of the apes, they were not so kind as to forgive. A fox had attacked Eagles, it might as well have killed an ape. You were surprised Noa hadn’t killed it on sight. You imagined your presence was the only thing that stayed his hand, since he never had been overly violent around you before.

This changed things

You hoped the fox would come back, but even if it did, you would have to make sure Noa was nowhere near your shelter. You owed the ape your loyalty, but you also owed the fox for all the food you had been depriving it of for so long. Noa was your-…friend, but the fox could be your companion…given enough time. Then again, maybe this was your sign not to pursue the idea of companionship with animals. After all, with what had just taken place between you and Noa, you weren’t exactly sure you were in a place to make that type of decision. You needed time to think, and to do that you needed to be away from Noa.

Said ape was pacing back to where you stood, rooted to the ground. Not for long though, as Noa’s hand reached for you. Without properly thinking, you took an involuntary step back, avoiding his outstretched fingers. He had no time to mask the surprise that immediately morphed into hurt, pulling his arm back and asking, “Are you…alright?”

“Yes,” you lied. “That just surprised me. It’s late and I’m tired, I think I’ll go to bed now.”

Noa turned to look behind him, “Need help…with rock?”

You smiled, “No, thank you, Noa. I’ll be fine. Go home.”

He looked reluctant, stuck in place as he seemed to search for the right thing to say. He swayed back and forth as you walked towards him, then past him. He turned, mouth moving but saying nothing, hands fidgeting until he seemed to remember something. He moved quickly towards you, stammering out, “B-books…books in…bag!”

You stopped in your tracks, “I almost forgot. I’ll grab them real quick, that way you aren’t riding back in the dark.”

Before you could take so much as two steps forward, Noa had run back to his horse and yanked them out of the satchel. He paced back over to you, holding the books out, somewhat hesitantly, “Will not…see us…tomorrow…big day of…preparations.”

You swallowed, part of you wanting to comfort him, but the other part screaming at you to distance yourself from him before you ended up in another situation like before. Your heart won out though, as you sighed, “That’s okay, will I see you the day after?”

“Yes,” he was quick to reply. “Do not have to…give lesson…next time we meet…can explore…or talk…or something else…you need to do.”

You gently took the books from Noa, pulling them into your chest as you promised, “I’ll think about it. I’ll probably rest tomorrow, make some repairs to my shelter.”

His brow creased at that, asking, “Broken?”

You shook your head, “No, just need to make some adjustments. It happened over time, but it’s nothing I haven’t done before. Don’t worry.”

Noa nodded then, lips pursing before he said, “I have…made something I…would like to give to you…next time we meet.”

Something about the way he said it made you nervous, made your stomach sink, but you brushed it away. “Well, now I can’t wait until we see each other again. Way to leave me in suspense. I’ll look forward to the surprise.”

“It is…nothing grand,” Noa hedged. “Will explain better…when you see.”

“Noa, I’m sure whatever it is will be great and I’ll love it.” Your heart hurt as you realized that you fully believed what you had said. “I’ll see you day after next, okay? Get home safe, and get some rest.”

Noa nodded, “You too…have been working…hard…goodnight.”

You started to back up, waving with your free hand as you hummed, “Goodnight.”

You turned as Noa made his way to his horse, pausing once you reached the entrance of your cave, to watch him ride off. His eyes didn’t leave your form for the longest time, not until his horse carried him so far away that you were only a silhouette against the rock. You swallowed, placing the books on the dry shelf before bracing your back against the stone wall and sealing yourself in for the night, leaving just enough space for your nightly visitor if they returned. You dropped your bag on the ground, the chain to your doorway swaying back and forth as you sunk to the ground. You leaned back against said door, questionable tears filling your eyes as the reality of your life crashed into you.

You wrapped your arms around your knees, conflict swirling within you as you tried to think rationally. You felt like you were at war with yourself, nothing making sense or feeling right as you struggled to understand any of it. A sob shook you then, the heels of your hands digging into your eyes. The material still wrapped around your palms absorbed your tears, which made you angry for some reason. You pulled the offending material off and threw it over with your bag, looking at the new pink flesh that had been revealed underneath. No scarring or bleeding, just edges of new skin.

Reminded of Anaya and Noa’s kindness, the tears returned with a vengeance and you tucked your head into your knees. You hated feeling this way, hated how strange and disoriented you felt. You just wanted someone to hug you and tell you it was going to be alright. But who did you have that would do that? The face you used to imagine was not the one that appeared in your minds eye now, and that broke your heart even more. In that moment, you pretended that the last five years didn’t happen, that you were seventeen again and had had a nightmare in the vault.

You opened your mouth, a sob stealing your breath before you desperately called out, “Micheal!”

You didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t look up, because you knew he wouldn’t be there… but just for a moment, you pretended he could hear you. You pretended he was throwing the blankets off of himself in bed, and making his way over to you in yours, to comfort you until you fell back asleep. You sucked in a breath when you suddenly felt a light touch on your leg.

And there he was, auburn fur and brown eyes. Your fox had placed a paw on your leg, looking up at you with something almost like concern. You swiped at your eyes, sure you were seeing this wrong. The fox yipped and whined as you made eye contact. You felt crazy, but tried again, calling out, “Micheal?”

The fox lowered its paw then, sitting up a little straighter as it observed you. You leaned over, reaching for your bag and pulling a fish out. The fox hardly reacted, simply taking it from you with its teeth. This time though, it did not run. It laid down on its belly, tearing into the meat of the fish while it sat next to you.

Your tears stopped all at once, and you chuckled wetly, “I guess I know what to call you now. You know we’ll have to be more careful from now on, right?”

Micheal, the fox, looked up at you then, licking its lips and blinking slowly at you before returning to his meal. You were pretty certain at this point that you had lost your mind, but hey, at least you had a friend to keep you company and share dinner with.

[wicked-by-nature--au]

You want questions? Hehe, alright, I think I'll give you the same doozy I gave @daylightisminetoconsume last March :>

Imagine the day Gunmar succeeds in all of his conquests, or say he could reshape the world in any way he wants. All of his enemies are defeated, every last inch of the planet is his, and trolls can wander the surface without dreading petrification from above. Everyone who has ever opposed him has either been ground into dust or made to suffer truly agonizing fates to serve as examples; all people fear, obey, and respect the Gumm-Gumm king without question. My question is...what will your fascinating version of Gunmar do the day after? :3 In fiction, there have been so many so-called crusaders and despots who often speak with ambition, even those who conquer and destroy simply because it is their nature, but none have ever been so brave as to answer the question of what they will do when they've succeeded. When the world is just the way they want it, or when all other forces have been vanquished, just what is the plan when Wicked By Nature Gunmar has gotten EXACTLY what he wants? :)

Oooh- That is a VERY INTERESTING question and thing to think about!

But let's take a deep and thoughtful dive into Gunmar character-

Gunmar was born from the Heartstone that rotted because of war and hatred — and him being a walking talking thinking Heartstone, those same ongoing things deteriorate him.

Heartstone's purpose is to give that vital life to Trollkind, and when the Trollkind isn't thriving, the Heartstone diminishes. And Gunmar can feel that torment within himself from all the infighting between trolls and their dispute with humans.

And Gunmar's goal technically is to stop that war forever, but he's doing that his own twisted way. He comes from a corrupted Heartstone, he was born from violence and death and that is inevitably rooted into his nature, no matter how he was attempted to be raised.

So everything he sees as a threat or an obstacle to his ambitions must be destroyed. That he thinks is for the good, there is no war if there's nothing that would create the conflict. Just an apocalyptic dead and silent nothingness, that is his paradise.

He is like this lost monster that is desperately trying to fix itself, a being that was never meant to exist brought to life.

He is unnatural, and only exists due to a higher deity's desire (and that creates the parallel to half-troll Jim).

And now, what if Gunmar actually were to accomplish his goal?

He would feel at peace in the darkness and bloodshed now that the war that has lasted for millenniums is finally over for good.

Trolls rule the surface now, and Gunmar feels satisfied but not happy. He has lost his son and practically everything that was once dear to him, but the Trollkind can now start its slow recovery.

(And now at this point, Morgana would just get rid of the trolls, because she doesn't give a rat's ass about them and Gunmar was just a puppet for her to get what she wants, so that will be the anticlimatic end of him 😭🙏)

But I got an interesting concept if she's not in the picture! I don't know how to really feel about it, but it's kinda cool ig?

Gunmar has finally accomplished and lived his purpose, and he can now lay down his weapons.

He finds a good spot for himself where to settle down for eternity, he kneels down with his arms around himself, and his body begins to crystallize.

He begins to cocoon himself, and crystals grow around him as he loses his consciousness and trollself.

Now just a frozen statue inside a crystal, he has turned himself into a proper Heartstone for the trolls. He's finally there where he belongs.

His torment is finally over, and it's time for Trollkind's rebirth. Move on to an entirely new age and start all over again... and hopefully do better.

——————————————————————

I'm tired... TwT

I'm writing this at the middle of the night, so coming up with and writing words is a bit difficult, but I hope it's sensible.

But what do you guys think, about the concept? I think it could be cool to draw sometime or something, idk...

But like, Gunmar will not get this far. He will die the same way he does in the show, but I still think it's really interesting to think about.

- HuttuHarakka