#Still unsure if the way I’m writing them is good though

[cyber-streak-extra]

So, I decided to make another quick little fic involving the ITP: Happy Ending AU by @maraariana01 and this time, it’s got Funtime Freddy from Count The Ways, aswell :)

Title: A Bear, A Child, & Said Bear’s Way Of Breaking, Entering, & Capturing

The animatronic bear stared out at the house, a smirk plastered right on his face. He’d been around the area for quite some time—after simply stumbling across it after wandering around after leaving the old man’s garage.

He already knew who he wanted to get this time—the young boy, Oswald. He’d already been planning everything... he’d just been waiting for the perfect moment.

Funtime Freddy sighed. When it did come down to taking the kid, he would’ve preferred to be able to use his storage tank—but, thanks to Silly Millie, when she entered, she caused it to get stuck.

It was something that the bear only discovered after he’d counted, gotten rid of his boredom, and fulfilled Chilly Milly’s wish. It was all still a win-win in his eyes. But he wished she hadn’t gotten it stuck. No matter what he tried, it stayed that way.

Oh well, Funtime Freddy thought. I can still manage.

...

Oswald sat at his bed, drawing some sketches. His phone was in his lap, texting Ben—although his friend hadn’t texted back yet. He could hear Jinx purring from where she lay on the ground.

He was waiting for Spring Bonnie to finish up with some chores—as the rabbit was going to drive him to go pick up Ben. Through his closed door, he could hear the vacuum.

Oswald was glad that everything was normal again—...well, as normal as life could be after he went through the ball pit, and obtained a third parent in Spring Bonnie.

Everything else was still pretty normal. School had started back up, he’d been visiting and chatting with Ben more—who had returned from his little vacation not too long ago. Spring Bonnie, Jackie, and Thomas all seemed to be comfortable with each other.

He knew it was something that took time getting adjusted to. Oswald was happy that it went smoother than he had thought it would when he talked to the two of them, explaining little parts of what had happened that day.

...Even now, he had never outright explained the ball pit. Sure, he told them both that he found Spring Bonnie at Jeff’s Pizza, but Oswald never explained the time traveling part. He didn’t even know how.

Click.

Oswald paused. What was that? He frowned. It sounded like it was coming from behind him. His window? Before he could turn, he started to hear the sound of hissing.

“Jinxie?” He glanced down at the cat, who was backing up slowly—she looked on edge, and her hissing didn’t stop. “What’s the m-“

Oswald’s eyes widened when he was suddenly grabbed by a cold, metallic, and somewhat broken arm. A gasp had escaped him when he was lifted up, but he could tell it was muffled.

His eyes darted around, trying to get a full look, and what had grabbed him was obviously an animatronic—but not the one that he was used to seeing, or liked seeing. Just like the arm, this animatronic was damaged, and he seemed to be a bear.

The animatronic bear chuckled, although it was obvious that he was trying to keep himself quiet. He was just barely succeeding. “Hello, Little Ocelot!~” He whispered—or tried to, voice glitching.

Barely managing to see anything else behind the large bear, Oswald noticed his window. It was fully opened, but it looks like some parts of it had been broken in the process.

Oswald wanted to get away. He wanted away from this bear. He could feel himself moving around... but it wasn’t working. The bear’s grip was strong. What did he want?

Oswald didn’t want to find out.

Could he yell for Spring Bonnie? He knew he sounded muffled... but what if the bunny still heard him? How good was the bunny’s hearing? He didn’t know.

For a moment, Oswald thought about trying to call someone—but that was quickly thrown out the window when he realized that he couldn’t. His phone, originally in his lap before he was grabbed, was now abandoned on the floor.

He could only think that, if he could grab it, that he would either end up messaging Ben—who seemed to have texted back now—or his parents—who were out on a date. What would they do?

“Squirmy one, aren’t ya, Little Ocelot?” The bear chuckled again, still seemingly trying to make sure that he remained quiet enough. Oswald glanced around, eyes spotting the bear’s stomach. What was leaking out of it...?

...

Spring Bonnie had been vacuuming the whole house. He’d decided to do some chores a couple of hours, and then he planned on driving with his son and Ben. He’d promised to do so after he was finished.

He was in the living room—which was the last area he needed to get done. Earlier, Oswald’s room had been where he had started, and he went from there.

Spring Bonnie’s ears twitched, and he paused. He thought he heard something. Was it just the vacuum? It was loud. He’d almost forgotten that he had the TV on, too—a rom-com, which he was glancing up at and watching bits of as he did chores.

He continued vacuuming for a second or two... but then the bunny’s ears twitched again. The bunny was hearing something. It wasn’t coming from the vacuum or the TV, though. It was... what was it?

The bunny pressed a button, turning the vacuum off, and setting it carefully on the ground. The TV’s volume was quite low, so he didn’t need to turn it further down—he’d mainly been relying on the subtitles earlier.

Hissing. The bunny heard hissing. And... talking? Talking. It was a little distant and somewhat muffled from where he was, but he knew that’s what it had to be.

The hissing had to be Jinx—he’d grown accustomed to that noise. But the talking? It wasn’t Oswald. It wasn’t Jackie, or Thomas. It wasn’t Ben. He could tell that. He knew all of their voices well... but this wasn’t any of them.

Son? Spring Bonnie frowned in concern. He could feel his ears start to lower. He should go check on him. He hoped that it was nothing—he hoped that nothing was wrong—nothing was going on with his son.

Moving the vacuum out of his path, the bunny started walking down the hallway to reach his son’s room.

...

When he opened the door, Spring Bonnie nearly stepped on Jinx’s tail—but spotted the hissing cat before that, and stepped out of the way. Once out of her way, the cat ran out.

He watched her leave, confused, before turning back around and looked ahead. That confusion quickly turned to horror from the sight in front of him.

Funtime Freddy, beside the bed, with his son squirming around in the bear’s grasp. Both’s attention were turned to Spring Bonnie when he had entered the room.

Spring Bonnie! Oswald felt relieved.

“Oh, why hello!” Funtime Freddy knew of him. Knew of how the bunny came from the pit—pretended to be Thomas—before truly joining the family. He knew how he was essentially a third parent.

Oswald thought he heard a... growl?

Spring Bonnie took a step forward, and Funtime Freddy started moving, too—towards the direction of Oswald’s door. “I wouldn’t get too close, bun-bun!” He snickered.

The bunny stared. “I have plans,” He started, still slowly making his way to Oswald’s door—the smirk remaining on his face. “You wouldn’t want your Little Ocelot to go...” He used his arm without the hand, seemingly doing a ‘slicing’ motion around his own neck.

“But, maybe it would be fun to make you count the ways with me, bun-bun...” He laughed, smirk growing. He wondered what Spring Bonnie would choose. He also wondered what the kid would want. But, he had different plans.

He was here to get the kid and leave, before resuming everything. Silly Milly shouldn’t have gotten his storage tank stuck. If not for her, this would be a little easier. But, he had fun with her.

Oswald noticed how Spring Bonnie was beginning to leak. There was always little bits dripping, but massive leaking usually seemed to happen, he noticed, when the bunny was angry or sad.

Teeth. Oswald and Funtime Freddy saw all of the teeth stored in the bunny after he unhinged his jaw. Angry. Oswald hadn’t seen him like that since the night he went back to Jeff’s Pizza to get his dad.

“Oh, you don’t like that, bun-bun?” Funtime Freddy giggled.

Spring Bonnie’s hands bawled into fists. Just as the bunny started to get closer, the bear ran out of Oswald’s bedroom door. Spring Bonnie followed.

He entered the living room, looking around—he didn’t see Funtime Freddy or his son yet. He could feel himself leaking further.

Just as the bunny took another step, he heard a glitchy little laughter, followed by footsteps, and the feeling of something hitting him from behind—it felt... electrifying. Shocking.

...

Spring Bonnie blinked. He was leaning against one of the walls in the living room. He wiped at some of the liquid agony and remnant, before hurriedly looking around. Son...! What had the bear done?

Standing up fully, the bunny hurriedly began looking all over the house. He went back to his son’s room, checking under the bed, and in the closet, before moving to the rest of the house.

Oswald... Spring Bonnie could feel himself shaking as he kept checking the house. His ears were lowered. He could feel so much liquid leaking from his body—eyes especially.

As he reached the last room that he had to check, Thomas and Jackie’s room, Spring Bonnie leaned against the wall as his body started shaking further. How could he let this happen? How could he let his son get taken?

What was going to happen...?

Son... I’m so sorry...

He couldn’t find anything in the house—no hints or traces of where Funtime Freddy could possibly be with his son. Wherever the bear went with Oswald, neither of them were in the house anymore.

Spring Bonnie made a decision. He left through the front door, hurriedly looking around outside—he spent an hour or two doing so. That’s what it felt like.

The bunny was leaking everywhere. He checked the front yard, and the back yard—every area near the house, and even somewhat far away—in hopes that he’d find any sort of clue to where his son and the bear could be.

He found nothing.

Spring Bonnie made his way back home. When he got back, he’d been planning to recheck everywhere. But, as he passed the front door, the bunny fell to his knees.

Jinx meowed sadly from where she lay somewhere in the living room.

He should’ve been able to stop Funtime Freddy. He should’ve been able to stop him from taking his son. The bunny should’ve been able to save his son. Had he failed his son...? What did Funtime Freddy want with him?

Horrible possibilities started throwing themselves into the bunny’s mind—which he attempted to ignore, but... Funtime Freddy could do anything. What if he had already done something? How was he going to find his son?

Spring Bonnie heard the front door open.

...

“Oswald, we’re-“ Thomas started, closing the door behind him and his wife—although he stopped when he spotted Spring Bonnie in the middle of the living room.

He was collapsed on his knees, shaking. Even if the bunny wasn’t facing them, Jackie could tell that he was leaking... something. (What was it called? She’d never asked. Did Spring Bonnie know?)

Most of the leaking, she noticed, was coming from his eyes—it was pouring out like a waterfall. Although she noticed it coming from other parts of him, too. Jackie frowned.

“Spring Bonnie?” She gently called out, approaching the bunny carefully. Thomas stayed where he was, but looked around.

“Spring Bonnie,” The nurse knelt beside the animatronic. “What happened...? What’s wrong?”

The leaking bunny turned slightly to look at Jackie. Messily searching through his pockets of his coat, Spring Bonnie eventually pulled out his note pad and pen.

Jackie and Thomas, who moved a little closer, both watched as the bunny started writing. Although, whatever was leaking ended up hitting the notepad paper. So, the only words that the two could fully read were: “Oswald” “Freddy” and “Captured”.

Spring Bonnie messily flipped to another page on the notepad a second later, and sloppily wrote something else—this time, only two words. But it got the point across. “Son taken.”

“W-What...?” Jackie whispered, horrified, her eyes widening.

He could vaguely hear Thomas say something, too, followed by quick footsteps—from the corner of his eyes, Thomas seemed to be making his way to his son’s room.

Jackie watched her husband for a single moment, before refocusing on the shaking bunny in front of her. “Spring Bonnie, w-“

She was cut off when the bunny moved forward, hugging her—the hug was tight, but he wasn’t hurting Jackie, either. Blinking as her eyes felt watery, Jackie hugged the bunny back.

Jackie had never seen him like this. She rubbed the bunny’s back, closing her eyes. Oswald... please, be okay. What had happened? Why would anyone want to take her son...?

He should’ve stopped the bear before he escaped, Spring Bonnie had thought. He should’ve done... anything. Why did this have to happen? Oswald didn’t deserve anything that the bear may do.

He only hoped that he could get to his son somehow before Funtime Freddy went through with anything...

[nonsensechemicals]

crying whenever i talk about Cookie9 because all my friends have these interesting and unique theories on them while i take everything too literally and they all just stare at me like “dude… uuugh we r TIRED” <-they dont actually say this they are very kind to me but i can Feel It

[brunchable]

How To Impress a 21st Century Girl.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Themes: Rom-Com, Fluff, Mutual Pining(Heavy?), First Date, Flirtation and Playfulness.

Summary: Sam had forced Bucky to use Tinder to solve his abysmal love life. Bucky tells himself that if third time isn't a charm, he will officially give up trying to find a partner.

A/N: I'm a sucker for rom-coms, I hope you guys enjoyed this because I enjoyed writing it.

tags: @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917

It had all been Sam’s idea. "Come on, man. You need to get back out there!" Sam had said, way too enthusiastically, while setting up a Tinder profile for him without even asking. Bucky had resisted at first, arguing that dating apps probably weren't his thing. But Sam was persistent, reminding him that it was 2024, not 1944, and that "no one meets in grocery stores anymore."

Reluctantly, Bucky had gone along with it, figuring it couldn’t hurt to try. What was the worst that could happen?

Well, now he knew.

Bucky was starting to think Tinder was out to get him. His first two dates had been disasters—and not just normal awkwardness, but spectacularly bad. The first girl, Jenny, had brought her ex-boyfriend to the date. Apparently, he was her ride, and they were still "good friends." Bucky had spent two hours third-wheeling a reunion he hadn’t signed up for. The second girl, Alicia, had a collection of ceramic frogs. And when Bucky said “collection,” he meant obsession. The girl spent an entire dinner showing him photos of different frog figurines. It was ribbiting. Literally. One of them even made croaking sounds.

So, now here he was, on date number three, standing outside some trendy café, wondering what fresh nightmare awaited him. This time, though, he’d let you plan the date. Maybe handing over control would be better than having to smile through another amphibian-themed dinner.

You showed up right on time, and Bucky was genuinely relieved to see no ex-boyfriend hovering in the background. You were wearing a paneled knit dress with spaghetti straps that hugged you just right, and your short hair was perfectly tousled. You smiled at him, but the look on your face told him you were just as unsure as he was.

“Hi,” you greeted, and Bucky instantly forgot every single normal response. Holy shit he is TALL.

“Hey, I’m Bucky.” he mumbled back. He was really nailing this whole dating thing.

You walked inside, and the café had that minimalist vibe. A lot of plants. A lot of exposed brick. The kind of place where you’re not sure if you’re supposed to sit or admire the interior design.

As you both sat down, Bucky tried to channel his inner suave. He could do this. He had faced way worse than an awkward date. Like alien invasions. Like that one time he lost his arm again. This was nothing.

Except... why was talking to an attractive woman harder than fighting off super soldiers?

“I, uh, like your dress,” Bucky said, already feeling the heat creep up his neck. Nice, Barnes, real original.

“Thanks,” you replied, with an amused smile playing on your lips. “I like your... jacket.”

Bucky nodded, looking down at his worn leather jacket. “Yeah. It’s... warm.”

Warm? That’s what you’re going with? He mentally slapped himself. This was going well. So well. He tried to change the subject and scanned the menu. “Uh... so, what’s good here?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “The internet said they have good coffee, though.”

“Internet reviews, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That’s always a gamble. Could be great... could be a disaster.”

Cue the awkward silence.

The waiter had barely placed the food in front of you both before the quiet tension stretched between you like you were sitting in a library, not a café. Bucky poked at his bagel as if it might come to life at any moment, while you took a delicate sip of your coffee, your eyes darting between him and the wall behind him.

You both chewed in the most nonchalant way possible, each of you hyper-aware of the silence that was growing louder by the second. You were mentally cursing every decision that led to this exact moment, and Bucky, for his part, was questioning whether retiring from the whole Avenger thing had been a mistake.

Say something. Anything, Bucky thought, taking another bite of his bagel, which suddenly felt like chewing rubber. Ask about herr favorite food? No, that’s boring. Comment on the weather? Oh, yeah, nothing like ‘Hey, it’s been cold lately,’ to really sweep her off her feet. Real smooth.

Meanwhile, you were trying to figure out how you managed to forget how to make normal conversation. Maybe ask him about his hobbies? No, that’s basic. Compliment his hair? What are you, in fifth grade? Pull yourself together!

Bucky, still chewing the world’s driest bagel, caught your eye for a split second, and you both did that polite half-smile thing that happens when you’re not sure whether you should talk or continue pretending to enjoy the food.

Did she just smile at me because I’m being awkward, or am I overthinking this? Bucky wondered, immediately breaking eye contact and pretending his coffee was the most fascinating thing on the table.

You, on the other hand, were screaming internally. Oh God, did I smile too weird? Was it the kind of smile that says, ‘I like you,’ or the one that says, ‘I’m trapped in this date and don’t know how to escape’?

You both took another sip of your drinks at the exact same time.

Alright, Barnes, get it together. Say something smart, Bucky told himself, putting his mug down carefully.

“So, uh... how’s your coffee?”

You blinked, your brain scrambling for a response. How’s my coffee? It’s coffee. Just say it’s good. Don’t overthink it.

“It’s... good. How’s your bagel?”

Bucky looked down at the circular piece of bread like it had personally betrayed him. “It’s... round.”

Round? Really? You went with ‘round’? Smooth, real smooth, he chastised himself, nodding like he had just made the most profound statement about bagels ever.

Your lips twitched. Did he just describe his food as ‘round’? Okay, maybe I’m not the only one struggling here.

You took another sip of your coffee, trying to hide your smile. God, this is like watching two middle schoolers on a first date.

You both glanced at each other again. Smile. Look away. Silence.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. Alright, clearly, she thinks I’m a complete idiot. But it’s fine. I can recover. Just... find a topic. Literally any topic.

You picked at your napkin. Okay, maybe I should mention the escape room next. But what if he hates escape rooms? What if he thinks they’re boring? You cleared your throat slightly, ready to speak, but then—

Bucky cleared his throat at the same time. You both froze, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.

“You go first,” Bucky said quickly.

“No, no, you first,” you insisted, waving your hand.

Bucky’s brain blanked. He blinked, searching for anything to say. “Uh... did you... park nearby?”

You stared at him, and then a smile slowly spread across your face. Did he really just ask me about parking? You nodded. “No I–um took public transport. Did you?”

Bucky gave a stiff nod. “Yeah. Close. Very close. Super convenient.”

You both stared at each other for a beat, and then, in a miraculous moment, you both cracked up at the exact same time.

“Parking?” you laughed, shaking your head. “That’s the best we’ve got?”

Bucky held up his hands. “Hey, I panicked, okay? The bagel threw me off.”

You wiped a tear from your eye, your shoulders shaking with laughter. “And I thought the frogs were bad.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh harder. “Okay, in my defense, this date is way better than ceramic frogs.”

“Glad to be the non-frog date.” You raised your cup in mock salute.

You both chuckled, and for the first time, the awkward tension seemed to melt away. Sure, you were a bit of a mess, but at least you were a mess together.

As you calmed down, you leaned forward, a playful grin on your face. “So, what’s next? You ready for the escape room?”

“I dunno. Should I be worried?” Bucky smirked, feeling a lot lighter.

“Only if you’re bad at puzzles,” you teased.

Bucky crossed his arms, leaning back with a smirk. “Oh, trust me, I think I’ll manage.”

And with that, you both finally stood up to head for the next part of your date, the awkwardness left behind with the round bagel and the overly complicated coffee.

× × × ×

As soon as you stepped into the Asylum escape room, the mood shifted from "awkward first date" to "this might be how I die."

Oh, great. Creepy hospital décor. Perfect first-date vibes. You eyed the flickering lights and eerie medical tools scattered around the room, trying not to let on how much it was creeping you out. At least it’s better than ceramic frogs, you thought, glancing at Bucky.

“This is supposed to be the hardest escape room they have,” you said, glancing at Bucky. “Takes most people at least an hour. You ready for this?”

“Yeah, sure. I mean... it’s puzzles, right? How hard can it be?” Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calm. I’ve literally fought aliens. How bad could a few puzzles be?

“You’ve never done one of these before, right?” You looked at him, a bit skeptical.

He shook his head. “First time. But, uh... I’m good under pressure.” Under pressure? What am I saying? I sound like I’m about to defuse a bomb, not solve a riddle. Get a grip, Barnes.

“Alright. Let’s do this.” You smiled, trying to hide your own nerves. 

The clock started ticking, and immediately, you were plunged into darkness. A loud creak echoed through the room, followed by a voice over the intercom: “Welcome to the Asylum. You have 60 minutes to escape. Good luck... you’ll need it.”

Perfect. Creepy voice? Check. Flickering lights? Check. Yep, I'm doomed. You moved toward a stack of papers, squinting at the dim lighting. “Okay, first thing’s first... we need to find the clues hidden in this room to unlock the door.”

Before you could even start, Bucky was already inspecting a random pipe on the wall. He tugged at it, and it came loose, revealing a hidden key taped to the back. Oh, that was... lucky? Or did I just break something?

You froze mid-step. “Wait. How did you—”

“I... uh... just pulled on it.” Bucky looked just as surprised as you. Did I just accidentally solve this?

“Okay. Lucky guess.” You stared at him. 

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe.” Play it cool, Barnes. Don't look like you’re clueless here.

You both moved into the next room, which had even creepier décor. Faint writing on the walls, jars filled with unidentifiable things, and a mannequin in the corner that Bucky immediately side-eyed like it was going to jump out at you. Okay, I don’t trust that mannequin. Why’s it looking at me like that?

You picked up a piece of paper with some cryptic writing on it. “This says something about finding the light within the dark. I think it’s a clue. We need to—”

“Found it,” Bucky called out.

You turned to see him holding up a blacklight. How does he keep doing this?! 

“They always hide something with a blacklight, right?” He grinned, flashing the light on the wall, revealing a series of glowing numbers. That’s a thing, right? People hide stuff with these lights all the time... right?

“Oh, you’re just full of ideas now, huh?” You crossed your arms, smirking.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool. “Just... using my instincts.” Yep. Totally knew that.

You worked through the next few puzzles, but by "worked," what you really meant was Bucky accidentally stumbling into the solutions. Every time you tried to figure out a clue, Bucky would casually touch something, pull a lever, or press a random button that—surprise—opened the next door or revealed the next key. At first, you thought he was joking. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear: Bucky was somehow solving the escape room by sheer dumb luck—or so you thought.

This is starting to freak me out... Am I secretly a genius? Bucky thought.

At one point, you were trying to decipher a complicated code etched into the wall, mumbling to yourself about numerology and patterns, when Bucky—completely oblivious—pulled a book off the shelf, and a hidden door creaked open in the floor.

No. No way. “Are you—” You blinked. “Did you just—”

Bucky glanced at the open trapdoor, confused. “What? Was that not supposed to happen?”

You slapped your forehead. “No! I mean, yes, but—oh my God, Bucky, you’re breaking the game.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose!” Seriously, I just touched a book. How is that a thing?

You looked down at the trapdoor, then back at him. “What are you? A puzzle savant? Did you plan this?”

Bucky laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Nah, I just thought the book looked weird.” Great, now she thinks I’m some kind of escape room wizard.

You gaped at him. “The book looked weird?” Weird? Dude, I’m starting to think you have X-ray vision.

“I mean... yeah. It was dusty.” It wasn’t even that weird... or was it?

You squinted at him, hands on your hips. “You’re telling me you spotted a dusty book and thought, ‘Aha! Hidden door.’?”

“Isn’t that... what you’re supposed to do in these rooms?” Bucky shrugged, looking genuinely sorry. Please tell me that's how this works.

This man is unbelievable. You stared at him for a long moment before bursting out laughing. “Oh my God. You’re accidentally good at this. You’re just walking around solving stuff like you do this every weekend!”

Bucky chuckled, his shoulders relaxing a little. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m glad she’s laughing. “I swear I’ve never done this before.” This isn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened to me this week.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified,” you teased, stepping closer to him. “You’re like a walking cheat code.” Sure, Sherlock. Whatever you say.

“Hey, I’m just here to help.” He smiled, clearly enjoying your reaction. At least she’s impressed. That’s something.

I think you might secretly be a robot. You shook your head, grinning. “Alright, escape room prodigy, let’s see if you can crack the last one.”

You entered the final room—a dimly lit chamber with a creepy-looking mannequin in the corner and random medical equipment scattered around. You narrowed your eyes.

“Okay, this is the hardest part. No way you’re going to just... guess your way out of this one.”

“Yeah, this one’s. . . tricky.” Bucky glanced around, clearly trying to look casual. Please don’t let me stumble into the solution again... 

Please don’t let him find the solution immediately. Just this once.

You pointed at the mannequin. “We need to find a code hidden somewhere in this room. The clue says it’s ‘locked in the mind.’ So it has to be something mental, right? Like a puzzle?”

Bucky stared at the mannequin for a second, then slowly reached out and twisted its head off. Inside, there was a slip of paper with the code on it. Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Are you KIDDING me?!” Your jaw dropped. 

“I just thought... you know... maybe the head comes off?” Bucky held up the paper, looking sheepish. 

Why am I even here?! You threw your hands up in the air. “Of COURSE the head comes off! Because that makes total sense! Sure!”

Bucky bit back a laugh. “Well, it did say ‘locked in the mind.’” Technically, I was right.

You glared at him, then shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “Okay, that’s it. You’re banned from escape rooms. You ruin them.”

“Ruined it?” Bucky asked, grinning. “We escaped, didn’t we?” She’s totally impressed, even if she won’t admit it.

“We escaped in twelve minutes, Bucky! Twelve!” You slapped his arm playfully. “That’s not normal!”

He laughed, ducking his head. “Sorry?” Guess I’m not so bad at this ‘fun date’ thing.

As you both stepped out of the escape room, the staff was standing there, looking like they’d just witnessed the impossible.

“You’re... done?” Pink-haired Girl asked, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Wow. They look like I just told them Santa isn’t real, Bucky thought.

You, just as confused, looked over at Bucky. “Uh. . .yeah, I guess?”

“Looks like it.” Bucky gave a casual shrug. No big deal. Just casually shattering dreams.

Clipboard Guy checked his stopwatch again, his mouth hanging open. “Twelve minutes. No. That’s not possible. People are supposed to break down in there. We’ve had people cry!”

Cry? What is this, an escape room or emotional boot camp? “You want me to go back in and tear up a little? You know, for the full experience?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“People have left that room emotionally damaged. You just... strolled out.” Pink-haired Girl blinked. 

You stared at Bucky, still wrapping your head around it. “I didn’t even get through the first clue, and you were already unlocking half the room.”

“You were working hard. I just sped things up a bit.” Bucky chuckled softly, glancing at you with a playful smile. I mean, you were giving it a solid effort...

The Master of Puzzles guy appeared, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Did you... have the answers beforehand? Because that’s the hardest room we’ve got. We’ve had people rage-quit in there.”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, looking amused. “Nah, just good at finding my way out of things.”

“I didn’t even do anything. You solved the whole thing!” You shook your head, still half-laughing, half in disbelief.

“Hey, you were a great moral support.” Bucky smiled at you, nudging you lightly. Seriously, though, it’s good to have someone to watch while I dismantle a room’s dignity.

Clipboard Guy muttered, “We’re gonna have to ban him. He’s banned.”

Oh no, I’ve ruined their sacred puzzle temple.

“He broke the hardest room we’ve got. Who even does that?” Pink-haired Girl nodded, still dumbfounded. 

“Well, I’d offer to go back and struggle a bit, but... I don’t think it’d be convincing.” Bucky smirked, leaning casually against the counter. Trust me, I can’t fake being bad at something. Even if I tried.

As you headed for the exit, Bucky held the door open for you, giving the staff one last glance before he leaned over to you, voice low. 

“What? You wanted to be stuck in there all night?”

“Honestly? It would’ve been nice to solve at least one puzzle.” You groaned, though you were smiling.

“Next time, I’ll let you have the first clue. Promise.” Bucky chuckled softly. And by let you, I mean I’ll stand far away from everything and try not to accidentally win.

 “You better.” You laughed, shaking your head as you both stepped out into the night.

× × × ×

The arcade was buzzing with lights, sounds, and the faint scent of popcorn. It was a complete shift from the eerie asylum escape room, and you were already eyeing the rows of flashing machines and claw games with glee.

Alright, this is more like it. No creepy mannequins here, just good old-fashioned fun.

Bucky, on the other hand, looked around like he had just entered a foreign world. The last time he’d been in an arcade, they didn’t have all this flashing neon or half the games that were here now. What happened to the simple stuff? Pinball machines and jukeboxes. Now I’ve got ten-foot robots staring at me while kids slap buttons like their lives depend on it.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile at how excited you looked. Okay, if she’s this excited, maybe this won’t be so bad.

“Okay, so... how does this place work again?” he asked, watching a kid furiously slap buttons at a nearby game.

You laughed, giving him a gentle nudge. “It’s simple! We just play a bunch of games, earn tickets, and then trade them in for really weird prizes. Easy.”

Bucky nodded, though he still looked a little confused. “So, you win tickets by—?”

“By being amazing at games, obviously,” you said, your eyes already darting toward a nearby basketball shooting game. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Bucky followed you, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, I’ll keep up.” Alright, let’s see if I remember how to be competitive at... basketball?

You started with basketball, and while you had a decent shot, Bucky quickly became the Michael Jordan of arcade basketball. He tossed shot after shot into the hoop with ridiculous ease, barely even looking like he was trying.

Oh, come on. Seriously? Why is he good at everything? You shook your head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. Are you serious right now? Are you even aiming?”

“I dunno. I just... throw.” Bucky shrugged, not missing a single shot. 

“This is what I get for going on a date with someone who’s literally built for accuracy.” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. Why am I pretending like I’m mad? It’s honestly impressive.

He flashed a boyish grin. “You wanted to see if I could keep up.” Oh, I’m keeping up, doll.

You crossed your arms, pretending to pout. “I wasn’t trying to lose in record time.”

When the game ended, Bucky had a ridiculous amount of points, and you had... well, significantly fewer. He collected your combined tickets from the machine, glancing down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Should I carry these, or do you want to hold on to the three tickets you earned?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

How is he still charming even while teasing me? This is unfair. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you snatched a couple of tickets from his hand with a grin. “You know what? Fuck you.”

“Careful, doll. You keep talking like that, and I might just take you up on it.” Bucky’s smirk widened, and he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make your pulse quicken. 

Okay, that was a little too good. I should not be blushing right now. Your eyes widened for a second, a flush creeping up your neck before you shot him a playful glare. “You wish.”

“You know I don’t have to wish for anything.” He chuckled, stepping back with a wink.

Well, that escalated quickly. You tried to bite back your smile, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at you. “I’m starting to regret bringing you here.”

Bucky held up the stack of tickets, grinning like a kid who just won the lottery. “You’re only regretting it because I’m walking away with all the prizes.” Did I just turn an arcade into a battlefield?

“Yeah, yeah, keep rubbing it in.” You huffed, shaking your head, though the smile on your face said otherwise. 

Bucky shot you another wink. “Oh, I plan to.”

This guy is dangerous with that smile. You smirked, leaning in a little. “So... what happened to the awkward guy who pointed out that bagels are round? Because this,” you waved at the arcade tickets, “does not feel like the same guy.”

“What? You weren’t impressed by my bagel observations?” Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. I was doing my best back then, okay?

You laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, I was very impressed. I just didn’t know you were hiding this arcade legend behind all that bagel wisdom.”

He grinned, eyes glinting. “I’m full of surprises, doll.” You have no idea.

“Clearly,” you said, still teasing him as you walked toward the next game. “Let’s see how many more surprises you’ve got.”

You dragged him over to the shooting gallery game, where you were met with an array of plastic rifles and paper targets.

“I’m kinda good at this,” you declared, grabbing one of the rifles with renewed determination. “You can’t have a crazy aim for everything.” Finally, something I can win.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “Okay. Let’s see what you got.”

You aimed and fired... missing every single target. You winced as the targets flipped back and forth, mocking you with their tiny, evil faces. Are you kidding me?

“You’re holding it too tight.” Bucky stepped up beside you, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Oh, great. Here we go. The expert.” You groaned. Of course, I’m holding it too tight. Leave it to Bucky to know everything.

Bucky smiled, but instead of saying anything, he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, his hands gently guiding yours on the plastic gun. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you felt the warmth of him so close. His breath was soft against your ear as he leaned in to guide your aim, his voice low and steady.

Why does he have to be so good at this? I can barely think straight.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands adjusting yours gently. “Don’t grip it so hard. Just like this.”

How am I supposed to relax when he’s practically wrapped around me?

Your pulse quickened, your senses suddenly overwhelmed by how close he was. His cologne—woodsy and warm—filled your lungs, making you a little dizzy. You swallowed hard, focusing on anything but the way your back pressed against his chest. “Okay... relax. Right. Got it.”

“You’re not relaxing.” Bucky’s voice was low, almost teasing.

Yeah, no kidding. Not exactly easy when you smell like a lumberjack dream. 

“I am relaxed!” you shot back, though your heart was racing so fast you were sure he could hear it.

Bucky chuckled, and the soft rumble of his laugh vibrated against your back. “If you were relaxed, you wouldn’t be holding your breath.” 

If she’s holding her breath, I must be doing something right.

You blinked, realizing that yes, you were in fact holding your breath. You exhaled slowly, trying to focus on the targets instead of the fact that Bucky was basically wrapped around you.

“Good,” he said quietly, his hands still steadying yours. “Now, pull the trigger. Nice and easy.”

Yeah, this is totally normal. Just shooting targets, totally not thinking about how close we are.

You followed his lead, squeezing the trigger gently. The shot rang out, and the sound of a hit echoed through the machine. The target flipped backward, signaling a perfect hit.

“I did it!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over as you turned your head to look at him.

Your faces were just inches apart. Bucky’s eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with tension, the good kind—the kind that makes your heart race and your stomach flip.

God, she’s close. Just a little closer...

Your gaze flickered down to his lips, and Bucky swallowed hard, momentarily forgetting where you were or what you were doing. All he could think about was how easy it would be to lean in just a little more, to—

“Uh, sorry!” A kid nearby bumped into the machine, jolting you both out of the moment.

Of course. Great timing, kid.

You quickly stepped out of Bucky’s embrace, your face flushed. “Well, um... thanks for the lesson, Barnes.”

Bucky cleared his throat, his ears a little pink. “Yeah. Anytime.” Anytime? Seriously, Barnes? That’s all you’ve got?

You moved on to a few more games, but the tension between you still lingered, electric and unspoken. After a particularly intense game of air hockey (where you almost won, thanks to Bucky being a little too distracted by you), you found yourselves at the prize counter.

Your eyes scanned the shelves, but one prize in particular caught your attention: an absolutely massive goose plush sitting at the top of the prize display. It was ridiculous, almost comically large, but it made you smile instantly.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, pointing. “That goose is so cute.”

Bucky followed your gaze and raised an eyebrow. A goose? Really? She could pick anything, and it’s that giant bird?

“You like that thing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I mean, look at it. It’s the size of a couch,” you said, laughing. “No one’s ever gonna win enough tickets for that.”

Bucky looked thoughtful for a second. Then, without saying a word, he handed all of your tickets to the guy at the counter. Challenge accepted, doll.

The kid behind the counter stared at him. “Uh, you know this isn’t enough for the goose, right?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, but... what’s it take to win that thing?”

Because clearly, winning giant plush birds is my new priority in life.

The kid blinked. “Like... a thousand tickets.”

Bucky smirked, then turned to you. “Wait here.”

“What are you doing?” You frowned, confused. 

Please don’t say you’re going to try and win a thousand tickets... oh my God, he’s going to try and win a thousand tickets.

Bucky said nothing and disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, you saw him at one of those old-school, rigged basketball games. His face was calm, determined—like he was about to go to war.

One after the other, Bucky sank shot after shot, racking up points so fast that you had to rub your eyes to believe it. Within minutes, he had earned a mountain of tickets. He moved on to another game, this time skee-ball, and then to another. Every single game, he dominated, earning enough tickets to make the counter kid’s jaw drop when he returned with what looked like a roll of tickets big enough to use as a belt.

“Holy crap,” you muttered, watching as Bucky handed the tickets over, a satisfied smirk on his face. The kid counted them, eyes wide, then slowly reached for the giant goose plush.

The oversized goose was practically half Bucky’s height as he carried it back over to you, grinning.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you with a proud look. “You said you liked it, right?”

Who just... casually wins a giant goose plush? How did he do that?

You stared at the giant, fluffy creature, then at him, your heart flipping over itself. “Bucky... this is insane. It’s huge.”

“Well, I couldn’t just leave without winning you something.” He shrugged, his grin boyish and a little shy. Yeah, Barnes, act like you’re not insanely proud of yourself right now. 

He’s... adorable. Stop. Focus. “You really didn’t have to... but I love it.” You laughed, hugging the goose to your chest. 

“Good.” Bucky’s eyes softened as he watched you smile. Worth every single ticket.

Your heart raced, your face heating up as you looked at him over the massive plush. “You’re full of surprises, Barnes. Who knew you’d be this good at arcades?”

Just trying to impress the girl, no big deal.

“Maybe I just wanted to impress you.” He smiled, a little more reserved this time.

Well, mission accomplished, buddy. You blushed, the air between you crackling again with that familiar tension. “Well, mission accomplished.”

You stood there for a moment, just smiling at each other, the absurdly large goose between you, until you laughed and nudged him with your elbow.

“You know, this might be the best date I’ve ever been on,” you said, your tone light but sincere. Was that too much? Did I just over-share?

Bucky’s smile grew, his eyes softening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, holding the goose a little tighter. “Definitely the best.” Okay, that was smooth. Not awkward at all.

You left the arcade with the giant goose plush between you, its goofy face almost mocking the awkwardness that had suddenly crept back into your steps. Bucky walked beside you, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, trying to figure out what to say.

Do I say something? Or just... keep walking?

The sounds of the city filled the silence around you, but neither of you spoke. The playful energy from the arcade had faded into something quieter, more uncertain.

Why am I so bad at this? Just say something, Barnes.

After a long stretch of quiet, Bucky cleared his throat. “So... is this the end?” Smooth, real smooth.

You blinked and glanced over at him, trying to keep your heart from doing a flip at his words. “Well, that’s all I had planned. Why?”

Bucky hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly as he looked ahead, his mind clearly weighing something. Okay, don’t screw this up. Don’t sound too eager.

For a moment, you thought maybe he was going to say goodbye, that maybe this was the end of your date after all. But then, he spoke quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

“I kind of don’t want to go home yet.” Well, there it is. Now she knows.

You felt a flutter in your chest, your face heating up as a small, shy smile tugged at your lips. You ducked your head, looking down at the sidewalk to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. The way he said it—so simple but sincere—made your heart skip.

Why does that sound so much cuter than it should? You bit your lip, an idea suddenly coming to you.

“Well...” you started, glancing up at him. “There’s a new building by the riverside with a sky deck. It just opened recently, and it’s supposed to have the best view of the city.”

“Sky deck, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, intrigued. A sky deck? Yeah, that sounds better than awkwardly walking home.

You nodded, a little more excited now. “Yeah. It’s pretty high up, and overlooks the whole city. I haven’t been yet, but I heard it’s amazing at night.”

“Sounds better than going home.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft smile. Thank God. I’m not ready for this to be over yet.

“Then let’s go.” You grinned, feeling your heart race just a little faster. 

You shared a quick, almost nervous glance at each other before walking in the direction of the riverside. The awkwardness wasn’t completely gone, but now, it was laced with anticipation, a kind of giddy energy that made your stomach flutter. You hugged the plush goose a little tighter, trying not to let your excitement show too much, but inside, you were buzzing.

× × × × 

The city lights shimmered below you as you lounged on the comfy chairs, drinks in hand. The night air was cool, but it didn’t come close to breaking the warmth buzzing between you and Bucky.

She’s... something else, Bucky thought, leaning back slightly. His gaze kept shifting between the breathtaking skyline and you, but he found himself more captivated by you. How am I supposed to focus on the view when she looks like that?

Noticing the quiet, you smirked. “So, you were really gonna end the night without showing off more of your endless talents?”

Oh, she’s teasing now. Alright, two can play this game. Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “What, beating you at arcade games wasn’t enough?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re a walking cheat code, Bucky. But I feel like there’s more you’re holding back.”

His eyes flickered over your face, lingering on your lips for just a little too long. More than you know, doll. “Maybe I am.”

Your breath caught for a second, but you quickly recovered, tilting your head and flashing him a grin. “Oh yeah? Like what? Some secret talent I should know about?”

Keep your cool, Barnes. Don't blow it now.

Bucky leaned in just a fraction, his voice lowering, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. But I only show them to people who ask nicely.”

God, does he have to sound that smooth? Your heart flipped at the way he was looking at you, intense, as if he was seeing through every joke and teasing comment. How am I supposed to keep this casual?

“Nicely, huh? And what do I have to do for you to show me?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the playful banter fading into something more charged.

“Keep hanging around,” he said softly.

I’m in deep now. Bucky's eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. Should I kiss her? Maybe I’m reading this wrong...

His eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. It was just him—his voice, his presence, the way he was looking at you like he wanted to kiss you but was holding back.

You swallowed, feeling the tension build like a slow fire. You sipped your drink, trying to cool yourself down, but it did little to shake the feeling that something between you had shifted. Stop overthinking, just go with it.

“I could do that,” you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips. You felt his eyes on you, and the air between you felt electric. You glanced at him, catching him staring at your lips again. Your pulse jumped. He’s really staring... isn’t he?

“You’re staring,” you said, teasing, though your voice had a soft edge to it, your heart thudding in your chest.

Bucky blinked, caught, but instead of pulling away, he smirked. “Am I?”

Yeah, Bucky, play it cool. Like you haven’t been staring for the past five minutes.

“Mhm,” you teased, though your voice was barely steady. Why does that smirk make my heart race? “I mean, I get it. The view’s great and all.”

Bucky’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping lower. “You could say that.”

I can’t believe this is actually happening. You felt your face heat up at the way he was looking at you. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach do wild flips. Why is this so... intense?

“You’re not just talking about the city, are you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, sending shivers down your spine. Just kiss her already. “Maybe not.”

Your breath hitched. “And what are you looking at?”

He leaned in slightly, his gaze locked on yours. “What do you think?”

She knows exactly what I’m looking at. 

Your heart raced, the pull between you growing stronger with every passing second. His eyes kept flicking down to your lips, making you wonder if he was going to kiss you. I really shouldn’t wait any longer...

Bucky cleared his throat suddenly, as if shaking off the trance he’d been in, and leaned back into his seat, looking almost embarrassed. Okay, maybe I’m rushing this.

“Sorry... I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” you interrupted quickly, your voice softer, gentler now. God, why did he stop? “Don’t be. I didn’t mind.”

His gaze snapped back to yours, the tension flaring again. She didn’t mind? Well, maybe I didn’t screw up, after all—or I did because you didn’t kiss her you idiot. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, a soft smile tugged at his lips, and his expression softened.

“So... orthopedic ward, huh?” he said, shifting the conversation, though his eyes were still locked on you. “How do you handle that? All those broken bones?”

Smooth, Barnes. Talk about bones to distract yourself from the fact you were just about to kiss her.

You took a deep breath, relieved for the break in intensity but missing it instantly. Great, now I’m thinking about how close he was... “Well, it’s mostly convincing people not to do dumb things. Like skateboarding down staircases. You wouldn’t believe what people put themselves through.”

Bucky chuckled. Yeah, I believe it. Considering I’ve done dumber things in my time. “I can believe it. I’ve been there.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve skateboarded down staircases?”

“No, but I’ve done some pretty stupid things in my time,” he admitted, leaning in again. Pretty sure falling for you might top the list. “But if I did something dumb, you’d patch me up, right?”

You smirked, your eyes twinkling. He’s flirting again. I can’t take this seriously. “Oh, I’d patch you up. But I’d make sure to remind you how dumb you were the entire time.”

“Fair,” Bucky said, the distance between you shrinking again. Patch me up, lecture me—just keep talking, I don’t care. “But I think I’d be a good patient.”

You shook your head with a grin. Good patient? Doubtful. “I doubt that. You’d probably complain the whole time.”

“I wouldn’t,” he replied, his tone teasing but soft. I’d let her take care of me, no problem. “If you were the one taking care of me, I’d be on my best behavior.”

He’s definitely not just talking about broken bones... Your heart skipped at the way he was looking at you again, his voice dropping to something more intimate. The banter was light, but underneath it all, there was that same intensity. Okay, now I’m thinking about kissing him again...

“You don’t strike me as someone who’s ever on their best behavior,” you teased softly, though your breath caught in your throat.

Bucky smirked, his eyes flicking to your lips again. “Maybe you bring it out in me.”

God, I hope so.

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. Your pulse raced, and you leaned into the moment, letting the tension simmer between you, unspoken but undeniable. He’s close again…

“I’ll have to see that for myself,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat.

She’s close, too. Just lean in, Barnes. Bucky’s gaze darkened, his voice low and rough. “You just might.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as the tension between you crackled, thick and electric. You shifted slightly, leaning in with a playful smirk. “So... tell me, you got any other dates lined up after this one?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered with amusement as he leaned back, crossing his arms. Dates? I can barely keep up with this one. “Why? You worried I’ve got someone else lined up?”

You grinned, holding his gaze. “Maybe. Should I be?”

Not a chance. He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking as his voice dropped lower. “I don’t know... do you have any other dates lined up?”

He’s really turning this on me, huh? You blinked, your heart racing, but you quickly shot back, “Well, maybe... maybe not. Depends on how this one ends.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his eyes dropping to your lips again, the intensity rising. Alright, Barnes, time to end this date right. “Guess I better make sure it ends right, then.”

Before you could respond, Bucky reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek as he leaned in, your lips so close you could feel his breath.

Your heart was pounding, your breath shallow, as his parted lips brushed against yours, soft and slow, his head tilting just slightly. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips locking against yours in a way that made everything around you fade to nothing. He could taste the faint sweetness of your daiquiri on your lips, and with a soft groan, his tongue did a slow, savoring lick against your bottom lip before slipping past, deepening the kiss.

Your hands instinctively moved up, cupping his face as you kissed him back, your fingers sliding along the scruff of his jaw. The warmth of his touch, the way his thumb stroked your cheek, the way his lips moved against yours —everything about it was intoxicating, pulling you under.

Then Bucky pulled back for a quick gasp, his breath mingling with yours , before diving back in, capturing your lips with even more intensity. The kiss deepened, more urgent this time, as though neither of you wanted the moment to end. His hand on your nape tightened slightly, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified, his lips pressing more firmly against yours.

They didn’t stop until they couldn’t breathe anymore, finally pulling apart when the need for air overtook you, both of you breathless and flushed. Their foreheads rested together, the cool night air doing little to cool the heat between you. Bucky’s thumb gently stroked your cheek as he whispered, his voice rough, “Definitely no other dates lined up after this.”

You smiled, your hands still cradling his face, your heart pounding. “Good. Neither do I.”

× × × ×

As Bucky’s motorcycle came to a slow stop outside your house, and glanced up at your front porch. You hopped off the bike, shaking out your hair with a satisfied grin.

That ride was way too short... you thought, glancing at him as you handed Bucky his helmet, which he stubbornly told you to wear instead of him.

Bucky, being the gentleman, didn’t just let you off with a wave. He slid off the bike and stood up straight, dusting his hands like he was about to help carry your groceries.

Alright, Barnes. Play it cool.

"I’ll walk you up," he said casually, like it wasn’t 2024 and people usually just waved from their cars.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk. "You’re walking me to my porch?"

Bucky nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She thinks it’s weird? Hell, I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“Of course. What kind of guy lets a lady walk to her door alone?” he replied, shrugging like this was completely normal.

You tried not to laugh, biting your lip to hold back a smile. He’s serious. Oh my God, he’s really serious. "Wow, okay, Mr. 1940s. What’s next, you gonna tip your hat and call me ‘ma’am’?"

Bucky smirked, taking a step closer. Alright, go with it, Barnes. “I could, if that’s what you’re into.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes but smiling as you walked together toward your porch. He’s ridiculous... and kinda sweet. You couldn’t help but notice how he slowed his pace just a little, like he was savoring the moment, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, casual yet somehow... considerate.

When you reached your porch, Bucky stopped, glancing at your door as if making sure it was safe territory. This is it. Play it smooth.

You turned to him, unable to hold back a laugh this time. "So, do I get a secret code to get into my own house, or...?"

Bucky grinned, leaning casually against the porch railing. “Just making sure you get home safe.”

Alright, Barnes, she’s not buying it. But hey, it worked.

“You know, they invented porch lights for a reason.” You shook your head, amused. He’s seriously acting like my personal bodyguard right now.

“What can I say? Old habits die hard.” Bucky shrugged, leaning in just a little closer, that playful glint in his eye. Please don’t laugh, please don’t laugh.

You looked up at him, crossing your arms with a smirk. “You know, there’s a fine line between being a gentleman and babysitting.”

Bucky chuckled. She’s killing me with that smirk. “Hey, you never know. There could be a rogue bagel out here, just waiting to trip you up.”

Oh, not the bagels again. “Oh my God, not the bagels again!” you burst out laughing, shaking your head.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “You know they’re round, right?”

This man is unbelievable. You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I think we’ve officially come full circle.”

“Just like a bagel.” Bucky gave a slow, dramatic nod.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, but you shook your head, standing on your porch with your hands on your hips. Why do I like this guy so much?

“Alright, alright, you’ve escorted me safely to my door. Anything else, or are you going to salute me goodbye?”

Bucky’s grin softened, and with a playful twinkle in his eye, he gave a small, mock salute. She’s gotta be messing with me right now, right? “Goodnight, ma’am.”

“Goodnight, soldier.” You couldn’t stop smiling as you opened your door, turning back to look at him. Don’t walk away, don’t walk away yet...

As you slipped inside, you peeked out one last time, watching as Bucky lingered for a second, that charming smirk still on his face before he finally turned and headed back to his bike. Say something, Barnes. Don’t just leave like a dork.

But then he stopped, halfway to his bike, and turned back around, something flickering in his eyes.

No, I’m not leaving yet. Not without...

Before you could ask what he was doing, Bucky closed the distance between you with a few long strides. Without hesitating, he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you—soft, quick, but just enough to make your heart race. His lips parted against yours, and for a split second, you tasted the warmth of him before he pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes.

That... was... wow.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart doing a somersault. Did that just happen? You were still processing when Bucky grinned, his voice a little more hushed. “I guess I couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye.”

Smooth, Barnes. Real smooth.

You blinked, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a soft, “No complaints here.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his hand still lingering at your neck for a moment longer. Then, he cleared his throat, stepping back a bit. “Hey, uh... you got a number I could call sometime?”

He’s asking for my number after that?

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter as you reached into your pocket, grabbing your phone. “Yeah, here—let me put it in.”

As you typed in your number, Bucky watched you, that familiar twinkle back in his eyes. Best decision I’ve made all night.

When you handed his phone back, your fingers brushed his, sending a small jolt up your arm. Yep, I’m done for.

Bucky pocketed the phone, flashing that boyish grin again. “Alright. I’ll call you.”

Yeah, you better. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He took a slow step down from the porch, but not without glancing over his shoulder one more time. “Goodnight... again.”

You stood there, grinning like an idiot. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

As Bucky made his way back to his bike, you slipped inside your house, leaning against the door as your heart raced. Did he really just kiss me? Again? Oh, this is definitely not over.

You peeked out one last time through the crack in the door, watching him as he swung his leg over his bike. Even from your doorway, you could hear him muttering with a smirk, “Just trying to keep the rogue bagels at bay.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finally closed the door behind you, your heart racing a little more than you expected. I’m never going to forget this night...

[ha-rinrin]

"Is there something wrong with my pants?"

Summary: Jinx's comes home after getting half of Zaun out of Stillwater with a doubt on her mind.

Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader

Wordcount: 1.4k

Authors note: I laughed so hard at this scene that I had to write something based on it. Also, guys, I'm absolutely refusing to accept the ending of episode 6 for my own mental health.

masterlist

The hideout is still, the quiet hum of the machinery and the flicker of a dim lamp your only company. You've been waiting for Jinx, trying not to imagine all the chaos she’s causing out there. You know she’s been working on something big, but you’re never quite sure exactly what until she shows up.

The door slams open, and in she bursts, her energy almost tangible as she steps into the room. Jinx is practically glowing, a grin stretched across her face that matches the wild sparkle in her eyes. Her clothes are messy, but she’s hardly bothered by it, her usual chaotic aura taking over.

“Guess who just pulled half of Zaun outta Stillwater?” she announces, her voice thick with excitement. She practically bounces in place, her fingers twitching like she’s about to explode with more energy.

You blink, surprised. “Wait—half of Zaun? You mean you—”

Jinx nods, cutting you off with a quick motion of her hands. “Yeah! I snuck in, all stealthy-like, dodged the enforcers, and got them out. No one even knew what hit ‘em! They’re gonna be talking about this for ages, trust me.” She leans in closer, her face lighting up with that grin that’s both wild and contagious. “I’m like their ghost, except, you know, way cooler.”

You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, though a small part of you wonders how she managed it without being caught. She’s reckless, but she’s also clever in her own strange way.

Her voice drops a little, a mix of excitement and something softer underneath it. “It felt good, y’know? Being the one who saves the day for once.” She rubs the back of her neck sheepishly, glancing at you like she’s half unsure if you’ll think it’s stupid.

You step forward, catching her eyes with a soft smile. “I’m proud of you, Jinx. You did something good today.”

Her eyes widen slightly, a little surprised at the words, before her usual grin returns, if a little softer now. "Well, I don’t always blow things up, y’know." She shrugs, still trying to play it off like it’s no big deal, but you can tell she’s pleased.

“Yeah, but you always make it exciting," you reply, stepping closer to her, your voice warm. "Only you could pull something like that off and get away with it."

Jinx laughs, her energy rising again, and she twirls around once more, feeling the high of her success. "Well, they won’t be calling me ‘crazy’ for much longer! They’ll be calling me a hero soon enough—just wait!"

You smile, watching her, knowing that her idea of ‘hero’ is always going to be a little different from the norm. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

After the rush of adrenaline begins to fade, Jinx’s usual wild energy starts to settle, leaving behind a quieter, more tired version of her. She lets out a long breath, her grin softening as she moves to the couch, her steps a little less bouncy now.

“You know,” she says, her voice much softer than before, “sometimes, all that sneaky, saving-the-day stuff takes more out of me than I thought.”

She drops onto the couch with a sigh, sprawling out, but then pats the empty space next to her, glancing up at you with a mischievous smile. “C’mere. You’re not gonna leave me hanging after all that, are you?”

You raise an eyebrow but walk over anyway, sitting next to her. As soon as you do, Jinx pulls you down beside her, her arms wrapping around you like a vice, dragging you closer as she snuggles into your side.

“Perfect,” she mutters, resting her head against your shoulder with a contented sigh. Her usual wild energy has faded, replaced by something softer, something that only ever seems to appear when she’s with you. She lets out a small, satisfied hum, clearly enjoying the comfort of just being close to you after everything.

“You know, you’re the only one who doesn’t think I’m a total freak," she says after a few moments of quiet, her voice more vulnerable than she usually lets on. "You’re the only one who gets it… and me." She nuzzles into your side, her arms tightening around you slightly.

You smile softly, resting a hand on her back, your fingers gently tracing the familiar lines of her jacket. "You’re not a freak, Jinx. You're just... you. And that’s all I need."

She glances up at you, her eyes bright, but there’s something softer there now, something deeper than the usual spark of mischief. "Good," she mutters with a quiet chuckle. "’Cause I’m never gonna change." Her grip on you tightens a little, and she settles further into your side, clearly at peace now. “So, I’m gonna stay here and cuddle until the world falls apart again. You cool with that?”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of her body next to yours, the chaos of her day finally falling away as she rests against you. “I’m more than cool with that.”

Jinx lets out another satisfied sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxes even more, completely at ease in your arms. And for once, everything feels calm—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, in a world that’s spinning too fast for anyone else to catch

Jinx stays nestled against you for a while, the chaos of the day melting away in the quiet comfort between you. Her breathing has slowed, and she feels more relaxed than she has in hours. The soft hum of the hideout is the only sound, but then, out of nowhere, she shifts slightly in your arms, her mood taking a subtle dip.

You feel her tense, just for a second, and her voice comes out a little softer than usual. “Hey… um… do you think there’s something wrong with my pants?”

You blink, not sure if you heard her correctly. And then, you glance down at her—her eyes wide, her lips pressed together like she’s genuinely worried. It’s such a stark contrast to the wild, unpredictable energy she usually exudes. The sudden vulnerability in her face, combined with the seriousness of her tone, is almost too much.

And before you can stop yourself, you burst out laughing. It’s not mean-spirited, just genuine, surprised amusement. The ridiculousness of the question, paired with the look on her face, catches you off guard.

Jinx blinks at you, her eyes narrowing slightly in confusion as she watches you laugh. “What?” she asks, her voice a little defensive, though the corners of her mouth twitch in response to your laughter. "Is it really that funny?"

You try to catch your breath, still chuckling. “Jinx… you—" You wipe your eyes with your sleeve, grinning. “You’re worried about your pants? Look at you! You’re the last person who should care about that!”

She pouts for a moment, her arms still around you as she pulls herself a little closer, almost like she’s trying to hide. “It’s not funny, okay?” she mutters, her voice quieter now, though there’s still a hint of that pout on her lips. "That enforcer made me feel stupid... and I didn’t like it."

You stop laughing, realizing just how much it’s bothering her. You gently tilt her chin up to look at you, the playful tone fading as you meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jinx,” you say, your voice soft but sincere. “It’s just… you’re telling me this, and then I look at you, and I’m like— … Who cares what she thinks?”

She stares at you for a moment, the pout fading as she lets out a small breath. “Yeah, but still...” she trails off, still fiddling with the fabric of her pants.

You grin, brushing a hand through her hair as you pull her back into you. “You’re perfect, Jinx. Those pants? Totally you. No one else could pull them off like you do.”

her head resting against your chest as she lets out a soft sigh, the weight of her earlier worries starting to ease away. “You’re the best,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smile, kissing the top of her head. “You’d probably blow something up, but I’d still be right here.”

And just like that, the tension fades. She’s back to her usual self—still a little quirky, but reassured and relaxed in your arms.

[inkedinshadows]

Nights and Days

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺

Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.

After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.

They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.

“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.

“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”

He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.

They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”

“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”

“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”

She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”

Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”

If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”

Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.

“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.

Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.

“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”

Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”

Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”

Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”

“So?”

He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?

“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”

Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.

Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.

She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”

He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”

She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”

“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”

“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”

Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.

“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”

She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”

Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.

“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.

“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”

“It matters to me.”

His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.

“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.

“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”

This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”

And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.

“Sleep on the bed. With me.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.

Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”

She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?

“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”

“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”

She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”

The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”

“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?

“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.

“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.

She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.

“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.

“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”

How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.

But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.

“You're cold, aren't you?”

She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Prick.”

“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”

Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”

His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”

Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.

She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.

Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.

“Make room for me?”

His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.

“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.

Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.

“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”

His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”

“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.

Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.

“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.

Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”

Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.

“Can you turn over?”

Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.

“Why?”

“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”

It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.

But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.

Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.

Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”

Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.

And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.

His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.

She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.

What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.

“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”

“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”

Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.

Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”

“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”

“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.

Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.

“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”

She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”

Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.

She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.

Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.

She wanted him. She needed him.

Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.

She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”

And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.

“Because I want to see you first, princess.”

Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”

He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.

Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.

Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.

“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.

Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.

His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.

“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.

“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”

Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”

“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”

Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.

His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”

She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”

A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.

Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.

His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.

But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.

“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”

A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”

He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.

“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”

She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.

Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.

“Do you want to come, princess?”

Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.

“Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.

But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.

She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”

He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”

“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”

The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.

He wasn't wearing any underwear.

The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.

Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”

For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.

Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”

She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.

“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”

With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.

He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.

Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.

“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”

His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.

A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.

She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.

They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.

Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”

“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”

Wrong words.

“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.

She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”

Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.

Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.

As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.

“Can you promise me something?”

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”

Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.

She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”

Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”

Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.

She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.

Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.

“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.

When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.

“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”

Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…

She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.

“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”

His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”

“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”

Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.

Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)

[selfcarecap]

Dear Santa

✧ Logan Howlett x female!reader x Wade Wilson

✧ summary: Your best friend and roommate Wade is a little lonely over the holidays, third-wheeling with you and Logan the entire time. But the holidays are all about giving, so you and Logan decide to fulfil some of the more sexual wishes on Wade’s wishlist. Or: You have a threesome with Logan and Wade.

✧ warnings: smut 18+ (oral sex, piv sex, cum eating, frotting kinda, liittle bit of ass eating (f rec); deffffinitely attraction between Wade and Logan but the focus is on the reader), Christmas mention (just for the seasonal vibes, not the religion obv. wanted to make it neutral originally but sorry I needed Christmas vibes specifically!!), this is my first time writing Wade beyond a few lines, idk if I did him justice but either way this was so fun to write!

gorgeous dividers by @dollywons <3

✧ word count: 4.7k

Wade Wilson likes to flirt. That’s no secret. 

But he’s been even more flirty recently, in the weeks leading up to the winter holidays. In fact, he’s been so flirty that you had to check in with your boyfriend Logan to make sure that he doesn’t mind. 

And no, Logan doesn’t mind. If anything, he enjoys watching how Wade makes you squirm with the sexual remarks that you have to pretend are below your level but you actually quite enjoy. 

It started when you bought yourself some cute Christmas pyjamas, pink and with a cheesy pattern on them. 

“You look so cute, I could just eat you out,” Wade said as soon as he saw you in it. 

You sat down between him and Logan on the sofa, ready for your first December movie night, and you shared an unsure look with your boyfriend. 

“Don’t you mean you could just eat her up?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raised. 

Wade considered it for a moment. “Hmm, no. I said the right thing.”

You spent the rest of the night flustered, leaning into Logan and hiding your face in his neck as deeply as you could. 

-

The next time it happens is when you get out of the car after buying some festive decorations for your shared apartment with Wade. 

You’re getting the shopping bags from the back when you notice him still in the driver’s seat, leaning over to inspect the place you were just sitting. 

“What are you doing?” you ask Wade, cheeks heating up. 

“I was just checking if you were sitting in a pile of sugar, cause that ass is looking sweet.”

-

“You know why they call me Wilson?” he asks you over breakfast one time. 

“Because that’s your last name?”

“No, because I will soon be between your legs.”

You take a bite of your food, humming, “That one still needs some work.”

Wade nods, “I know, still experimenting on the execution. Thanks for the feedback.”

-

“Does my tongue taste funny to you?”

You roll your eyes at Wade. “Ew.”

“No, I mean it, I think I’m having an allergic reaction. Can you at least look at it?”

“Oh!” you hurry towards him. 

-

“You know, baby angel,” he tells you one afternoon, “I think you’re the only one who can still be on Santa’s nice list despite being so naughty.”

Your eyebrows inch closer together, “How am I naughty?”

“Your bedroom is right next to mine, Miss likes-being-spanked.”

“Oh…” is all you manage to say. 

“But from what I hear in there you are a good girl, so that checks out with Santa’s nice list.”

-

It’s not strange per se that he’s acting this way, but it still makes more sense when you find Wade’s Christmas wishlist. 

You’re in his bedroom to get back a hoodie of yours that he borrowed ‘because it smells like you’ and he wanted to cuddle it while he sleeps. He said it so sweetly that you couldn’t say no, though you hope cuddling is really all he did to it. 

You find the piece of paper jammed between the bedframe and the mattress, and it only catches your eye because of the messy ‘Dear Santa’ scribbled at the top. 

Wade is always graphic, but reading his wishlist still makes a tingle run up your spine. All that’s on the list is things he wants to do with you and to you, all of sexual nature, of course. Logan is involved too. 

You read Wade’s wishes and get giddy, running to your bedroom to show Logan. 

You’ve been struggling to find a meaningful Christmas gift for Wade, so this is going to be perfect. Now all you have to do is wait for the next horny joke – and you’re sure that won’t be long.

-

It’s Christmas Eve and you and Logan are watching some show when Wade comes in. It’s toasty warm, the fairy lights reflecting on the tv screen during every dark scene. You’re sitting between Logan’s spread legs with your back against his chest.

Wade sits down next to you two, eyes glued to your legs, bare underneath an oversized graphic t-shirt. You give him a minute before he says something.

His words come three seconds later.

“If your left leg is Thanksgiving, and your right leg is Christmas, can I visit you between the holidays?”

You lean to the side to glance up at Logan, who gives you a subtle nod. You settle back against his chest, “Sure.”

“Wait, what?” Wade’s jaw drops.

You giggle, humouring him, “What do you wanna do when you visit me between the holidays?”

He scrambles for an answer, still surprised at your words, “Since Logan is my little honey badger,” your boyfriend huffs from behind you, “and honey badgers are named after their favourite food, I wanna know if your honey is as sweet as I’ve imagined.”

You laugh but Logan grumbles, “If you wanna eat her pussy, just say that.”

Wade rolls his eyes, holding a hand to the side of his mouth, “Honey badgers are no fun,” he says to you, “But yes, I wanna eat your pussy.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling.

His eyes light up. “Okay? Like, you’re giving me your consent okay?” 

“Yes, Wade,” you giggle, watching him fall to his knees in front of the sofa as he gently pushes your legs apart. His fingers against your skin immediately make you feel warm.

Before Wade can get to your panties, Logan reaches around from behind you and pulls the hem of your shirt down, blocking Wade’s view. “Ah,” he chides, “No fucking manners. You kiss her first before you get between her legs.”

Wade doesn’t have to be told twice.

Your lips meet with a fervour exactly like you would expect from Wade. You figured he’s been lonely the last few weeks, single and alone while you and Logan are still in the honeymoon phase. You’re glad to provide some love for Wade. He deserves it.

While Wade almost bites your face off, Logan’s hands find your hips, gently circling the skin there, and you can practically feel the heat from your underwear radiating in the little space between you.

Logan knows your body so well by now that he can tell immediately when you’re getting needy. He reaches around you, taking hold of Wade’s jaw, interrupting the kiss.

“Now,” Logan commands.

“Don’t boss me around, the only one who can boss me around is this little thing,” Wade’s hand trails up your knee. You giggle, trying to suppress the moan you want to let out.

You spread your legs for Wade as he gets back on the carpeted floor, hands smoothing up your legs, playing with the hem of your panties. You want to tell him to stop teasing, the butterflies in your stomach almost too much to bear.

He laughs, “Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t have the self control to tease you like this.”

You lift your hips for Wade to pull your panties all the way down your legs, grateful that he doesn’t comment on how wet they already are. You don’t comment on how he stuffs them in his pocket.

Logan helps Wade spread your legs further, two sets of strong hands digging into the flesh of your thighs. You’re getting wetter by the second.

“This is even better than seeing Hugh Jackman oiled up and shirtless with ‘Like a Prayer’ playing,” Wade says when he sees your pussy.

“What?”

“Huge who?”

Wade ignores the questions. “God,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit, and you resist the urge of your legs to weakly fall shut from the pleasure.

He takes his time with you, eating your pussy like a five course meal, making out with it like he never wants it to end. Wade moans against your skin even more than you moan from the pleasure.

He fucks you with one finger, then two, while he licks your clit, but it’s still not enough. Luckily, your boyfriend recognises your need.

“Quit squirming, will ya? So needy,” Logan scoffs, lifting your hips off him for a moment to pull down his sweats, taking out his hard cock. You give him a desperate nod before he can even ask anything, and Wade helps position you so that Logan can slowly sit you down on his dick, all three of you sighing in pleasure as he bottoms out.

“Mhmm, good girl. Much better. Was startin’ to get cold anyway.”

You nod mindlessly, pussy already pulsing around your boyfriend. 

“So fucking pretty,” Wade mumbles. He licks your clit, your pussy stuffed full with Logan’s dick.

Logan lifts your shirt over your head, discarding it in a corner of the sofa, playing with your tits from behind you. Wade looks up at your chest, tongue on your puffy clit, and moans so hard his eyes almost roll back. He brings a hand up to squeeze your tit, leaving his hand there.

“You close, baby?” Logan asks, able to feel your every squeeze around his cock, and you nod, grabbing his knee for support.

“Yeah, pretty girl, cum for us,” Wade parts with your pussy for just a split second to say this. Logan’s hand comes down from your boob to gently press down on the space between your abdomen and your pussy, and you feel everything three times more intensely.

Wade begins to suck on your clit, and that’s your undoing. You whimper as you try to fuck yourself on your boyfriend’s big cock just a little bit, squeezing around him, as Wade sloppily licks your clit to draw out your orgasm.

All of Logan’s willpower trying not to cum flows into your hips as he grabs you there. You feel a warm load of precum in your pussy, but he manages to resist the urge to cum, pulling you up and off his dick as soon as you stop pulsing with the aftershocks.

All three of you are out of breath. Logan turns you towards him to press a big kiss to your mouth, pinching your cheek, “You really needed to cum, hm? Did so well.”

“That’s three Michelin stars right there,” Wade says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking it afterwards.

You blink at Wade.

“Exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey?” he offers. 

“Michelin? I knew that guy…” Logan says, shaking his head a moment later, “You wanna keep going?”

You nod eagerly.

Your boyfriend smirks, “Let’s see if Wade can make you cum too.”

Wade puts a hand on his chest as he stands back up, hard dick tenting his sweatpants, “Je m’excuse. Were you not just there for me licking her pretty pussy until she came?”

Logan shrugs, “I was the one inside her, bub.”

Wade huffs, “That’s not how it works and you know it.”

You smile, pulling Wade’s face closer to kiss him again.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks in between kisses.

“Yes, but not yet.”

Logan completes your thought, “Not before I cum in her.” You smile at his possessiveness.

Wade puts his hands on his face, “Woah, wait. Did you two plan this? That’s so hot.”

You’re already on all fours, Logan getting on his knees behind you, rubbing his cock between your pussy lips. You sigh in pleasure, pawing at Wade’s sweatpants and pulling him to the sofa by the drawstrings.

He moans, pushing his sweats down and getting in front of you, “Well, merry fucking christmas to me.”

You kiss Wade by his hips and support yourself with a hand on his thigh. He gets the tiniest little bit harder, a brief flex of his dick, now fully hard. A drop of precum drips down, and you only just catch it with your palm before it lands on the sofa. 

Logan smiles behind you, “Can’t have him ruinin’ the sofa, hm, baby?”

You nod lazily, and look up at Wade, “Can I?”

“Holy shit, baby, of course you can.” Wade looks you right in the eyes when you open your mouth to take the head of his cock past your lips, moaning when you taste him.

Logan begins to fuck you at the same time, slowly at first. You suck Wade’s dick in the rhythm of Logan’s thrusts, slow but firm, that move you forward a little bit every time. Somehow, you manage to still look up at Wade with a little fucked out look in your eyes as your boyfriend fucks your wet pussy just how you like it.

“Such a good girl, baby,” Logan mumbles, “taking us both so well.”

Wade stutters “Yeah, yeahh, knew this would feel good but,” he needs a second to recalibrate when you move your head down to lick his balls, heavy cock falling against your cheek, spilling precum. Wade’s eyes fall shut as his head drops back.

He continues after a few moments, “but this feels like heaven.”

When you move back to his dick and take him into your mouth all wetly, Wade cums instantly. The pleasure of having him pulsing against your tongue and his cum spilling down your throat makes you clench around Logan’s cock so hard that he moans. 

“Yeah, baby, cum for me,” Logan sneaks a hand around your hip to play with your clit, and with Wade’s dick still throbbing against your tongue, you cum too. You feel Logan letting go, fucking his cum into your pussy that’s squeezing him with the pulse of your orgasm.

 You all come down from your shared high giddy and giggling, Wade’s hand smoothing over your cheek, Logan’s hand soothingly running down your spine.

Wade’s dick, still hard, flexes in front of your face when you look at him, sticking out your tongue, his creamy cum covering it. “Saved you some,” you say carefully, making sure to not let any of it spill from your mouth.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, bending down to kiss you and messily make out. Some of his cum spills from between your mouths, dripping down your chest.

Logan manhandles you to turn you around onto your back, and you bounce a little when you land. Then he bends down to lick Wade’s cum off your chest in one broad lick. You’re too excited yourself to pay attention to Wade’s reaction. 

Logan moves to rest your head in his lap by his lower thighs, cock hard again and close to your face. He nods between your legs, telling Wade, “there you go. She’s wanted this for a long time”

Your head snaps straight up so that you’re looking at Logan, your gazes meeting. Your skin heats up all the way down to your chest and Logan smirks, “It’s okay, princess. This pussy’s still mine.” He reaches between your legs to deliver a gentle slap to your pussy, collecting some of his cum from inside you on his fingers, bringing them to your mouth. You suck them eagerly, and then sit up briefly to pull his face into a kiss.

“I love how we taste together,” you tell him.

Wade gets between your legs and tuts at Logan. “What an animal, doesn’t even clean up after himself,” he huffs and promptly licks your pussy. He smirks up at you and Logan, “I love how you two taste too.” 

“Need you to fuck me, Wade.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of hearing those words. Fucked my fist listening to you fucking so many times, gave myself friction burn.”

You and Logan share a smile. You know this; he talks to himself while he’s jerking off – you’re not sure if he’s aware.

Wade lines his dick up with your pussy, pushing your legs up against your chest, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit until you’re squirming. When Wade fucks you, he fucks you slowly, tauntingly yet desperately.

Logan lazily plays with his cock, slapping it against your cheek and your tongue from time to time, your mouth eagerly chasing after him, but he’s just teasing you, wants you to focus on Wade.

“Doin’ such a good job, baby,” Logan says from above you, stroking his hand over your cheek.

“Thank you, peanut,” Wade says, eyes closed, thinking Logan is talking to him. You both let him remain in that belief. 

Wade is lost in the feeling of your warm, wet and tight pussy around his dick, languidly fucking you as your pussy starts to squeeze around him more and more as you get closer to your own orgasm.

“God baby, feels better than anything I’ve ever felt. Can’t last much longer”, Wade rasps, playing with your clit. But it’s messy, and Logan can tell it won’t be enough for you. He bats Wade’s hand away and circles your clit instead.

You cum before Wade, moaning as your pussy clenches around him, triggering his orgasm. Your back arches as pleasure flows through your belly and spreads throughout your whole body, Wade’s hips desperately chasing to keep that heavenly feeling until he stills inside you while he’s bottomed out.

“Still haven’t made her cum,” Logan says, with a teasing smile.

Wade looks up, “I was the one inside of her, bub.”

You roll your eyes at their teasing each other, but you don’t care as long as it’s about your pleasure. You don’t care who made you cum.

“Bend over for me, baby,” Wade says, pulling out, “wanna see if that ass is really made of sugar.”

You laugh as you get on all fours, Wade pulling your hips in place. He bends down and licks your pussy where he just came in you, swallowing some of his cum. 

Then, he grabs your ass so hard your cheeks spread. Wade licks around your tight hole, and you wrap your hand around your boyfriend’s hard dick. Logan bends down to give you a kiss, and you moan into his mouth as the tip of Wade’s tongue pushes inside you.

You can’t deny that it feels good but you’ve never let Logan’s mouth stay near your ass long either. You squirm so that Wade moves away from your hips, and he gives you ass a teasing slap as he sits back up.

“Definitely made out of sugar,” he concludes.

Just when Wade is about to stand up, some more of his cum drips out of your pussy as you involuntarily clench around nothing, and he stuffs his face back between your legs. He sits back up with cum in his mouth, ready to kiss you, but you shake your head, looking up at Logan.

Your boyfriend pretends to be unaffected, but you can see behind it.

“Can he?” you ask Logan, and he agrees to it. You grab his jaw and open his mouth manually, biting your lip as you look at Wade. Logan’s skin is hot under your touch.

“Here you go, open up,” you beam at Logan, watching as Wade holds his jaw all tenderly, spitting his own cum into Logan’s mouth. You hold your breath as you wait for them to kiss, but the moment doesn’t come.

You visibly pout when they pull away without making out.

“I know, sugar bear, me too, but Peanut’s not ready yet,” Wade shrugs.

You press a quick kiss of encouragement to Logan’s lips, and he and Wade are on you again within the second, but you need a break after your orgasms. But that little exchange, their lips almost close enough to kiss, turned you on so much that you want to see more of them.

You tell them to sit together, facing each other, as close as they can. Their muscular thighs are tangled around each other’s hips, Logan’s leg resting over Wade’s on one side, vice versa on the other one. Their dicks are close enough to touch with just a little bit of assistance.

“Can I?” you ask, kneeling in front of the sofa.

“Can you what, princess?” Logan bites his lip.

“Rub your dicks together?”

“Yeah, but come here. Don’t wanna see the face it’s attached to.” Logan lies down and lifts you on top of him, your pussy in his face and your upper body by their pushed together crotches.

“Oh pfft, you know you love it,” Wade comments.

“He does,” you kiss him for reassurance. Logan is obviously into Wade, he just hasn’t admitted that to himself yet.

Logan begins to lick at your pussy, tongue playing with your clit. “Don’t. Can’t focus,” you warn with a teasing smile.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

You wrap one hand each around their cocks, just jerking them off for a few moments.

“Don’t make it so suspenseful, sugar bear, or I’ll cum from the anticipation alone.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” you shrug with one shoulder, smiling down at their throbbing dicks in your hands.

As much as you’d love to see Wade cumming all over himself before you’ve even started, you have other plans. You let some of your spit drip down over their tips, jacking them off a bit faster, hearing their breaths stutter.

“Peanut, you’re really missing out not being able to see her. She’s so gorgeous.”

“I know she is, Wade.”

You smile at their compliments, lowering your head to trail your tongue between their cocks, paying more attention to your boyfriend first, then to Wade. They taste of your pussy and their precum, wetting your tongue with their taste.

Playing with them for a bit, you rub their dicks together, jerking them off at the same time.

“You need some assistance?” Wade asks, sitting up more and moving his hips. All you have to do is hold your boyfriend’s dick in place as Wade grinds against him, rubbing his cock against Logan’s for a few moments.

“God that feels good, wanna cum,” Wade groans.

“Off,” you tell him, smiling when his hips still in defeat. You tease them both a little longer, rubbing their tips together until their precum mixes and they’re both close, but you don’t let them cum. 

You get off them, telling them to stand up while you sit on the sofa facing them, leaning back a little.

“Which one of you wants to cum on me first?” you ask, voice sweet and angelic. 

They both start jerking off immediately, and you almost drool at having these two tall, muscular men stroking their dicks right in front of you – and for you – fighting over who gets to drain their balls for you first.

It’s Wade who cums first, a string of obscenities leaving his mouth as he jerks his dick to orgasm, painting your stomach white with his cum. Logan isn’t far behind, telling you what a pretty girl you are as he cums over your belly and tits. Their cum mixes, and it becomes impossible to tell whose cum landed where.

You sit up to lick your boyfriend’s dick clean, then Wade’s, then you lie back, puffing out your chest.

“Can one of you get wipes to clean me?” you ask innocently, knowing exactly that’s not what they’re going to do. They get to their knees simultaneously, starting to lick their cum off you, licking you clean.

They sit down next to you afterwards, you sandwiched between them. They lift one leg of yours each over their lap, touching you all over, putting their hands between your legs.

“Such a good girl for us, hm?” Wade says.

Your boyfriend agrees. “Did such a good job, baby.”

“You wanna cum again? Wanna cum for Logan and me?”

You nod lazily, all blissed out already, “yes please.” Your eyes fall shut at how good it feels, and at some point you can barely tell who is kissing you, whose hand it is playing with your nipples, or whose fingers are inside your wet pussy.

You cum for them, clenching hard around the fingers inside your pussy as another hand grabs at your knee to keep your legs apart. When you open your eyes again after a few moments, both men are looking at you lovingly, and it’s Logan who slowly pulls his fingers out of your pussy, delivering a few gentle, smoothing circles over your clit.

You grab his wrist to bring his fingers up to your face, looking him in the eyes, at how they light up when you suck his fingers into your mouth to taste yourself, no matter how often he’s seen you do it.

“You’re such a lucky bastard, honey badger,” Wade smiles, leaning his head against the back of the sofa.

You innocently smile at Wade, “I’d say I’m quite lucky too.”

-

You end up cuddling in your and Logan’s shared bed, all fucked out of your minds, freshly showered but exhausted to bits. 

“All in all, a successful Christmas Eve,” Wade says, making you giggle.

You force yourself from your warm and cozy position between them when you remember Wade’s list, grabbing it off your bedside table, along with a pen.

Wade’s cheeks redden in recognition at the piece of paper, “You found that? That was just me writing fanfiction before bed one night.”

“We wanted to give you a nice gift,” Logan grumbles.

“Yeah,” you agree, “We didn’t want you to feel like you were third-wheeling all throughout the holidays.”

Wade smiles one of his sweet smiles, “Thank you, guys. You’ve made this little guy,” he points at his face, “and especially this big guy,” he points at his crotch, “very happy.”

“Let’s see if you got all your wishes.”

Dear Santa,

I’ve been an exceptionally good boy this year, my kill count is at a measly 34. I think I deserve a few things. Here are my wishes for Christmas this year:

- Eat out Logan’s girlfriend

“You know she has a name, right?” Logan huffs.

“Of course, but the writer didn’t want to have to use the dreaded y slash n.”

“What?” you cringe.

“Nothing, keep reading.” 

- Eat my or Logan’s cum out of her pussy

- Sword-fighting with Logan while his girlfriend supervises

- Cum eating contest off her body with Logan 

- Cuddle with them

“What genius came up with this?” Wade grins.

“We had to do some interpreting, but we got everything, right?”

Surprisingly, it’s Logan who points at the last wish, “We haven’t done that one yet.”

“Yippie!” Wade claps, “cuddle wuddle time.”

“Nevermind,” Logan says, ready to get up and sleep on the sofa, but you pull him back by the wrist, giggling.

You switch off the lights, putting Wade’s wishlist away – all wishes checked off.

Logan moves closer to you, pressing his chest against your back to cuddle, giving you a loving kiss before lying down.

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too.”

You let Wade snuggle up to you as the little spoon, draping your arm over his chest, and he holds onto your wrist with a warm hand.

“You made me a very happy Christmas boy, you know that?”

You laugh, “We love you, Wade.”

“I love you too,” he says, and lies his head down on the pillow. You kiss the side of his head before you pull the blanket over yourself.

“Merry Christmas, Wade.”

Just as you’re about to fall asleep a while later, you hear Wade’s voice:

“You know that means Santa’s real, right?”

P.S. Thank you so much for reading <3 Let me know what you liked and reblog to get on Wade’s and Logan’s nice list 🤭😇 and Merry Christmas!!! <3

[moonstruckme]

Oh! Oh! I’m not the anon who asked about Jily x reader but your response made something spark in my brain. So picture a super cosy, soft scene where one of them comes home from a long and draining day of work to one of their loves in the kitchen baking, and then the third comes home with dinner and it’s all just soft and domestic. My heart! I think I can see the Jily x reader appeal

Thank you for requesting lovely! I feel like I'm still getting my sea legs under me with them but so far I'm really enjoying writing for them :)

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

The front door opens, and you say “Hi,” with a question in your voice, unsure who’s made it home first. 

The answer comes in the quiet scrape of a chair being pulled out. Only one of your partners is given to actually sitting down to take their shoes off, rather than toeing them off and being shocked when the backs get scuffed. “Hi, love,” Lily replies. 

“Hi,” you say again, warmer now. “Hey, could you help me with something when you’re done?” 

“Yeah, with what?” 

“My hair won’t stop getting in my face.” You blow a strand away from your eye. It comes right back. “And my hands have dough on them.”

“Just a second.” You hear the chair being pushed back under your table, the quiet padding of socked feet as your girlfriend comes up behind you. As usual, she’s come prepared, a hair tie already on her wrist. Gentle fingers sweep strands away from your face and draw it all back into a loose ponytail. Lily presses a kiss to your nape once she’s done. 

“Thank you,” you say, and she hums, settling her arms around your waist. “How was your day?” 

Lily sighs and rests her chin on your shoulder. “Long.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, lovely. Anything in particular?” 

“Not really. Just one thing after another, you know.” She toys with the loose knit of your sweater, sticking her finger through a hole. “I’m happy to be home.” 

The fondness that bleeds through you feels warm and sticky. “I’m happy you’re home, too,” you say with a smile.

You feel her lips curve in kind as she kisses your shoulder. “What’re you making?” 

“Cinnamon roll cookies. They’re more complicated than I thought, but I figure even if I mess them up they’ll at least smell nice when they’re baking.” 

“Good thinking. You won’t mess them up, though.” 

You both hear a key being fitted into the lock outside, and Lily calls out, “It’s open!”

“What?” The voice is muffled through the door. The key retracts, the handle twists. “Why is it open?” James asks as he comes inside. “I could be a murderer.” 

“Because I knew you’d be right on my tail,” says Lily, at the same time as you say, “What makes you think someone would want to murder us?” 

“Well, I’d rather you not find out,” James replies. He toes off his shoes and sets a large paper bag on the table. “Especially when I’m not home.” 

“Oh, because surely we need a man to protect us? We could do just as well in a fight whether you were here or not.” 

Looking at your tall, muscled boyfriend, you have to admit privately that this may be factually untrue. By the look Lily gives you as she goes to give him a kiss, she also disagrees with your argument even if she respects it. 

“Let’s just keep the door locked and that way none of us ever have to fight,” James says as she steps into his arms. He smiles. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Lily pecks him on the lips. “What’s in the bag?” 

“Dinner. I know I was meant to cook tonight, but I decided on the way home to pick up instead.” 

“Oh no,” you say mournfully. “Did you have a bad day, too?” 

“No.” James looks at you, confused. “Who had a bad day?” 

“Lily did.” 

“It wasn’t bad, it was just draining,” your girlfriend qualifies, though this doesn’t stop James from cooing and folding her into a hug. “I’m really fine.” Her voice is muffled against his chest. 

“I must’ve had a sixth sense, then.” James kisses her hair. “I got your favorite.” 

“No, did you really?” You can hear Lily perk up. She doesn’t completely remove herself from his embrace but frees one arm and cranes her neck to look inside the bag. “Thank you, love.” 

“Don’t thank me, thank my telepathy,” he says, letting her go so she can start grabbing forks and napkins for you all to eat with. 

James makes his way over to you, leaning against the counter so he can see your face while you work. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, his hair fluffy like he’s been running his fingers through it or he rolled down the window on the drive home.

“And how was your day?” he asks you. 

“My day was good.” You grin at him. He returns it with twice the enthusiasm. “I finished my book, and I found this recipe for cinnamon roll cookies.” 

James’ gaze doesn’t dip to where you’re folding the cinnamon mixture into your dough. He nods as he keeps looking at your face, eyes warm. He’s still smiling. 

“What?” 

“Did you know you have a little bit of flour on your cheek?” 

“Oh, why’d you ruin it?” Lily asks, bustling through the kitchen to get you water for dinner. “I wasn’t going to tell her.” 

“What?” You look over your shoulder in betrayal. “Is it a lot? Why wouldn’t you tell me?” 

Lily turns off the tap, giving you a sheepish smile and a lift of her shoulders as she passes by you again. “It’s cute.” 

“It’s very cute,” James agrees. “Want me to get it for you?” 

“Yes.” You roll your eyes at your girlfriend. “Please.” 

James uses his thumb to brush off your cheek, holding your face in his hand while he does. His smile is still firmly in place, soft around the edges with a sweet fondness. He keeps rubbing until you’re sure the flour has to be long gone, until warmth kisses your cheeks and it’s just touching.

“Love you,” you say softly. 

James’ cheeks dimple. “Love you, sweetheart.” 

“Will you turn the tap on for me?” 

He does, and you wash your hands in the sink, leaving the rest of the baking for after dinner. 

“Oh, good.” Lily comes back into the kitchen. “Are you ready to eat? I’m worried it’s going to get cold.” 

“We’re ready,” James answers for you. “Just washing up.” 

“Jamie.” Lily smiles at you as you step away from the sink to let him have his turn. “You didn’t get it all.” 

“I got distracted,” says James. “Anyway, I thought you liked it there.” 

She beckons you closer. “I do, but if you’re going to get it, you may as well finish the job.” She brushes a fingertip over your cheek, pretty eyes crinkling. “There. Perfect.” 

“She’s always perfect.” James dries his hands on a towel. He kisses you when you smile bashfully. 

“The food’s getting cold,” you remind them. 

“Excuses, excuses.” 

[finelinevogue]

Hi!! I would love a blurb for Azriel (ACOTAR) with 3 & 17 please ❤️ thank you!!!

hi!! of course🌟💖 az has such a soft place in my heart so i’m super excited to write more for him<3

am i allowed to miss you?

summary - azriel comes back from a mission and you’re not sure whether you’re allowed to miss him or not

pairing - azriel x new-mate!reader

✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐

Elain bursts through the library doors, looking for you.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, sitting up and closing your book to show attention to her.

“Azriel’s back.” She breathed out, pausing a moment to watch you digest the news before leaving you alone again.

Elain left the door open, allowing you to hear the commotion in the hallway of all your friends greeting Azriel a warm welcome home.

It took you just a moment, but you started to feel his presence beside you. You allowed that warm feeling within-side you to fester and grow, feeling an overwhelming amount of love and safety all at once.

It was the bond.

The new bond.

You and Azriel were only a few weeks mated, after only having courted for a few weeks before that. You couldn’t help but mate each other because of how strong your feelings were to one another. It just made sense.

However, a few days ago Azriel had to leave to go on a mission even though both of you were still reeling in the honeymoon phase of your newly mated lives.

Standing up, you brushed some crumbs off your dress skirt and breathed out shakily.

You were so nervous.

The pace at which you’d been with Az had been so fast that you were still a little unsure how you were supposed to feel. It wasn’t a conventional relationship, per say, but that didn’t mean what you felt for each other was any less real. You knew that. However, you worried.

Walking out of the library you rounded the corner to see everyone crowding Azriel.

Rhys ruffled his hair and Cassian was finishing squeezing him tight as if he’d been gone for 30 years not 30 hours.

You watched with a smile on your face.

Azriel hates being fussed over like he currently is being, so it’s a little funny to watch. He’s too polite to tell them to leave, or maybe a secret part of him actually likes it. Either way, you stand back and allow him to be fussed over.

“Anything to report back?” Rhys asked.

“Rhys, you sent me on a scouting mission to count how many cattle Beron has. Except from the number ‘73’, no. Nothing to report.” Azriel said in the most sarcastic way.

Feyre laughed at this, teasing Rhys over something so silly.

“Counting cattle? Whatever for?” Amren asked.

“I have my reasons.” Rhys blushed, seemingly embarrassed but everyone knew there must be a good reason behind it all. Rhys was respected enough by everyone not for anyone to question anything.

“Was one of those reasons keeping me from my mate?” Azriel asked.

It was then that you’d realised that you’d clearly missed something and Azriel appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His kissed the top of your head and held you close for a moment.

“More like to give us a break from you being with your mate.” Cassian grumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Azriel questioned for you both.

“Umm…” Cassian blushed.

“What Cassian is trying to insinuate is that the walls are old and so the walls are thin. We can hear… everything.” Nesta suggested for her mate.

You muttered a curse to the Gods under your breath, turning beet red at Nesta’s comment.

Everyone else chuckled.

Azriel must have known that you were feeling embarrassed because the next thing you knew you were being swept up in his arms, being carried like a bride.

“Right. Y/N and I are leaving. You can count your own cattle from now on Rhysand. And as for you, Lord od Bloodshed, would you like me to tell everyone about the time I caught you in Nesta’s lingerie and not for a devious reason?”

“You little…” Cassian started to move forward but Azriel had disappeared, along with you, before he could get anywhere close.

You both appeared in his room, out of the shadows.

Azriel put you down on the bed, following you down so he was leaning over you.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Azriel said, kissing you deeply.

You followed his kisses, taking his lead and kissing as much as Azriel was giving. It was soft but at the same time urgent. Your fingers cupped his cheeks, attempting to keep him placed against you forever.

“Welcome home.” You said softly, kissing him once more.

Next thing you know he’s kissing your forehead, nose, chin and cheek. He kept going, moving down across your jaw and onto your neck.

“Did you miss me?” He asked, finding the spot on your neck that you loved him kissing and keeping there.

You didn’t respond to his question, pushing it off as distraction and not listening.

“Y/N?” He left the spot on your neck, moving his eyes until they caught your distanced ones. “Hey. Don’t get shy on me.”

“I’m not.”

“You seem… distracted.”

You watched his eyes assess your face for a long moment. His eyes swirled with a flurry of emotions and you could feel his concern within your own chest. You imagined that he could feel your anxiety in his.

“Am I…” You started then stopped.

Azriel didn’t push you or try and finish the question for you, instead he pushed himself off you and sat on the bed. He carefully took your hand and pulled you up too, not satisfied until he swung you across his lap and held you close.

One of Az’s hands intertwined with yours and you sat like this for a moment more. Enjoying being next to each other. Enjoying the overwhelming emotions settle down as your bond recognised your closeness.

“Am I allowed to miss you?” You asked, remaining looking at his hand rather than him.

“You… Why… Of course you can miss me, my love.” He kissed your forehead. “Why would you think not? Was it Cassian? I swear to….”

“No!” You exclaimed, looking at him then, “It wasn’t Cassian, no.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s just. Everything between us has happened so fast. I went from liking you, to loving you, to mating you all into the space of a month. I don’t feel like time exists and yet… I also feel like I don’t have the right to miss you so much that my heart physically aches after so little time.”

Azriel brings your tied hands up to his chest, leaving your hand to feel his heart beating.

“My heart physically ached too.” He gives you a soft smile.

“I did. I really did miss you.”

“I know. I know, because I felt the same way.” He gave you one loving kiss, “I don’t think it’s silly to worry over how quickly everything has shifted between us, and I do think that we feel right. I think we’re good. And we love each other enough to miss each other. So never worry about how you’re feeling, or if you’re feeling too much too soon - chances are I’m feeling it too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Welcome home, Az.” You give him another kiss.

“Now let’s give Cassian something to groan about.” Azriel says before flipping you back on the bed.

[oneheda]

hello !! may i ask a neteyam fic wherein nete has been trying to win the reader's (s/o) affection again for days and reader just saying "hmp" or ignoring him because of something that he did that made her feel upset :-P silly && comfort pls! :3c

THE RISK. | ➶ neteyam sully

── .✦ a: ONE-SHOT

w.c: 3.9k

pairing: neteyam x fem!na’vi!reader (aged up characters for plot purposes!)

story description: ever since olo'eyktan training cruelly took away a significant amount of time with you, neteyam has been desperately trying to win back your warmth and affection after he’s met with cold steel from your hurt. his longing for your touch and care only deepened from within as time and your silent resentment—a reflection of the quiet yearning that had you undoubtedly tethered to him—had kept you two apart.

contains: established relationship, slight angst that ends with silly fluff (lots!) <3, or otherwise known as hurt/comfort, teyam’ gifting you tons of flowers, him being obsessed with you, calling you yawne a lot, you guys’ chasing each other, falling into a river, being wet (oh.) and in love!!

warning(s): quite suggestive towards the end, but still very PG! 😏

a/n: omg this request is soooo cute and such an imaginable trope for neteyam, given that we all know if he stayed in omatikaya he’d be so busy training for olo’eyktan likeeee? i’ve read so many one-shots with the reader being mad at him before, and him making up for it, and i loved every single one. so, i’m so excited to try this one out in my writing style and mind! +while planning this i kept thinking about—what would you as his omatikayan lover be like? wouldn’t you be hesitant about falling too deep in love with him, knowing you’d miss his busy ahh sooo bad because he’s away like almost all the time? isn’t that risky? seriously, kudos to all those who take that risk IRL fr. ✊🏻

It started with flowers. Not just one or two, but a small, growing pile of them. Each time you turned around, there’d be another tucked behind your ear, balanced on your hammock, woven into a little bracelet left near your food.

Neteyam had been relentless in his attempts to win back your affection over the past few days. It wasn’t as though you didn’t love him because you did, with every fiber of your being. But you were still upset about the argument you’d had earlier in the week. The argument arose from the widening distance between you, a gap carved by the relentless demands of his role as the future Olo’eyktan. You nodded as he explained, telling him you understood—because you truly did. Every decision he made was for the good of the clan, for a future that included you, too. But understanding didn’t soften the ache in your chest. It didn’t quiet the longing for the moments that used to be yours alone.

You didn’t want to seem selfish, didn’t want to feel like a burden, like someone relegated to the edges of his life. But how could you not yearn for him when he was the very heart of your own?

You didn’t need grand gestures or impossible promised, just to feel like you mattered, like the bond you shared wasn’t something easily pushed aside. It wasn’t too much to hope for, was it? If it was, he shouldn’t have assured you that time would always find a way to make room for the two of you.

He shouldn’t have told you he could love you without limits.

Still, you weren’t angry, just quietly hurt. So, you let him sit with the weight of your silence for a little while longer, unsure if he truly understood how deeply you longed for his presence. If he cared, he would be honest. He would decide whether he could meet you where you stood or not.

And Neteyam, true to form, was determined to make the effort.

At communal dinner, he hovered like a shadow, his golden eyes constantly flicking toward you. You pretended not to notice, focusing instead on your food, the stars overhead, and occasionally the random crack in the floor. Anywhere but his face. Neteyam, however, was not easily giving in. With a deep breath, he reached over, gently prying your hands apart from where they were clasped in your lap. His large, warm palms enveloped yours, his thumbs brushing softly against your skin. You stiffened but didn’t pull away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of melting under his touch.

“Yawne (beloved),” he whispered, voice low enough that only you could hear over the chatter of the gathering. His brows knit together in concern. “Are you still upset? I’m sorry, okay? I’ll make it right. Just give me time for a few weeks.”

But your only response was a soft huff as you turned your attention to your plate. His ears drooped slightly, and his shoulders sagged, but he didn’t give up.

Neteyam had taken to foraging during his hunting trips, returning with blooms in every color he could find. Each one seemed chosen with care, as if he had combed through Pandora’s vast forest just to find the perfect match for you. This morning, you found a particularly delicate one—a deep blue petal with flecks of gold, so soft it felt like velvet—waiting for you beside your water. Its placement wasn’t accidental; he’d laid it carefully, as though it were a gift meant to soothe whatever rift had come between you.

“Do you like it?” His voice, deep and warm, came from behind you, startling you slightly.

You turned, fingers curling instinctively around the flower. He was leaning casually against a tree, his bow slung over his shoulder and his skin dappled in the soft morning light. He looked relaxed, but his twitching ears and the slight shift in his tail gave him away.

You rolled the flower between your fingers, trying not to let your heart leap at the sight of him. “It’s pretty.” Your voice was nonchalant, almost dismissive, but your gaze lingered on him for a moment too long.

He smiled, slow and knowing, but didn’t press further. Instead, he stepped closer, his shadow falling over you. “Pretty, huh?” he murmured, his tone teasing but soft. “Just pretty? I thought it was beautiful. Like you.”

You scoffed lightly, a weak attempt to mask the heat rising in your cheeks. “Is that what you’re doing now? Comparing me to flowers?”

Neteyam tilted his head, a playful glint in his golden eyes. “Only the rarest ones.” His voice dropped just slightly, and the way he looked at you made your stomach flip.

You tried to turn your attention back to the flower, but his presence was impossible to ignore. He crouched in front of you, his movements unhurried and fluid, and his hand reached out to tilt your chin up gently.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I don’t just bring these to make you smile. I bring them because I want you to know I think of you. Always. Even when I’m away.”

For once, you didn’t have a clever reply. And he smiled, small and boyish, as if your mere attention was like handing him all the stars in the sky. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered. “I already know.”

That night, during the clan’s celebration, you spotted him at the edge of the gathering. The music swelled, and instead of joining the other warriors in the dance, Neteyam was there, balancing precariously on a low branch. His arms flailed dramatically, as though he were imitating a bird taking flight.

You cocked an eyebrow and took a few slow steps toward him. “Is this what future Olo’eyktan training looks like? Because if it is, we’re doomed.”

He turned sharply at the sound of your voice, pretending to wobble before hopping down with an exaggerated flourish, landing directly in front of you. His grin was wide and unapologetic.

“I’m trying to make you laugh,” he admitted shamelessly, his amber eyes bright. “I’ve missed your laugh, yawne.”

You tried to hold firm, but when he clumsily twirled and struck a ridiculous pose, your laughter broke free. He straightened, a little victorious puff to his chest.

“There it is,” he teased gently, his chest still puffed out with mock pride. “I knew it was still in there.”

Your resolve cracked, but you still rolled your eyes for good measure. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re worth it,” he said without hesitation, so sincere and immediate that it caught you off guard. He extended his hand toward you, palm up to offer you a dance but he didn’t push. He just waited, his presence steady and patient.

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” you muttered, more for yourself than for him. You didn’t move, but your fingers tightened slightly around your forearms.

“I know,” he said gently, his voice low enough that only you could hear it over the celebration. “And I’ll keep earning back every bit of you until you’re not.”

For a moment, you hesitated, your heart warring with your pride. Slowly, your arms loosened, and though you didn’t take his hand, you let it rest there between you, a quiet truce in the making.

“Said you’d earn it back, huh?” The teasing tone in your voice had a sharp edge, and you couldn’t help the way it made his eyes sparkle with mischief. He tilted his head, a playful glint in his gaze, as if trying to predict your next move. “Then prove it.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and dashed into the back of the forest, heart pounding with the rush of adrenaline. The sounds of the celebration faded behind you, replaced by the rustling of leaves beneath your feet. You couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up from your chest as you glanced back over your shoulder. “Catch me if you can!”

His reaction was instant, his own laugh ringing out through the air as his long legs carried him quickly in pursuit. Neteyam’s voice came, warm with determination, but also with a clear, boyish excitement. “Oh, you know I will.”

You risked another glance behind you and saw him gaining, the playful smirk on his lips matching the wild spark in his eyes like a predator closing in on its prey. The challenge, the thrill. It was all there in his gaze.

You’d darted across the massive branch that spanned the glowing, bioluminescent river below. Your heart raced as you pushed yourself faster, the wind rushing past your ears, but it only made the sounds of your laughter spill out even louder.

It felt like freedom, like nothing in the world could touch you in this moment.

But just as you rounded a turn on the massive branch, his speed bested yours. Toned arms circled around your slim waist, pulling you back against him with such effortless power that it knocked the breath from your lungs. You gasped, his chest firm against your back, his body radiating warmth in the cool, humid air.

The glowing river far below shimmered with blues and greens, but the only thing you could focus on was him. Neteyam’s breath tickled your ear, unsteady from the chase but layered with soft, husky laughter that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“You’re not getting from me away that easily, yawne.” he murmured, his voice triumphant, teasing, as his arms held you close. His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer, and you swore you could feel every inch of him pressing against you. His heat, his scent, the way his hands seemed to burn through your skin.

Neteyam's breath brushed over your ear, warm and unstead, sending a hum of heat through your veins as the hairs on the back of your neck rose. You fought to steady yourself, but it was impossible. Your knees felt weak as a warmth blossomed in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t just from the chase anymore. It was from the way he held you, so firmly, with the way his lips lingered so close to the curve of your neck so teasingly that left you dizzy in his hold. He chuckled once again as if hinting at the promise of laughter and surprises yet to come.

Before you could retort, before you could even think, he moved; both of you toppling sideways off the branch. You barely had time to gasp as he leapt, carrying you with him into the air. The drop lasted only seconds before you plunged into the river below, the cool water swallowing you both in a burst of bubbles and bioluminescent light.

You surfaced with a gasp, your laughter echoing across the glowing expanse as you pushed the wet strands of hair from your face. “Neteyam!” you exclaimed, half scolding, half incredulous.

He emerged just beside you, grinning like a mischievous child, his braids dripping water and his golden eyes sparkling. “You looked like you needed to cool off,” he teased, his voice thick with playful arrogance.

Well, you did need to cool off the hotness in your core… but this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

Without hesitation, you launched a spray of cool water at him, the droplets shimmering with the river’s glow as they scattered in radiant arcs. His reaction was instant; a burst of deep, joyful laughter that echoed through the humid air, rich and unrestrained. The playful challenge sparked an electric excitement between you, drawing you both into a frenzy of splashing and dodging. The world then began to blur into the glowing water and your shared laughter, a symphony of carefree chaos where nothing else mattered but this moment.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this alive, this carefree.

Eventually, your laughter guys laughter faded into breathless quiet. His eyes found yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to still. He moved closer, his face only inches from yours now, his wet skin glistening faintly in the river’s glow.

You let out a little laugh, your fingers finding it’s way on his chest, not sure whether to pull away or pull him closer. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

“I’m yours,” he corrected, his voice low and serious for just a moment as he stared deeply into your eyes, drowning in them as if they were the river instead. “And I’m never letting you go.”

Soon enough, Neteyam’s once-constant efforts seemed to slip away, fading into nothing more than fleeting memories. His presence, once a constant source of warmth, began to diminish with every passing day. The flowers he had once brought you—each one an offering of love and hope—became fewer and fewer, as if the color was draining from both the blooms and the moments you shared.

Once again, you understood and didn’t blame him, or at least told yourself. After all, your own responsibilities as a healer had grown burdensome, the increasing frequency of skirmishes and the unrelenting demand for resources leaving you with little time for anything else. Your days blurred into a haze of tending wounds and gathering herbs, each task an anchor that dragged you further from the quiet joys you once had even with yourself.

The strain of hunting weighed heavily on Neteyam too. Gone were the days when he would wander through Pandora’s vibrant forest, carefully selecting the most beautiful flowers to weave into thoughtful bouquets. Now, even the act of picking a single bloom seemed beyond his reach, a bittersweet reminder of the tenderness that had once come so effortlessly.

The communal dinners you had once savored together became strained, short-lived affairs. He would excuse himself early, his duties as the future Olo’eyktan demanding his attention, dragging him away before the last bite of food could even be tasted. He needed rest, they said, to prepare for the challenges ahead. And though you understood, the weight of his absence pressed heavier on your chest with every night he left, his absence a constant ache. The time you once had—those stolen moments of laughter, of closeness, of being seen—became rare, almost impossible to hold onto. The spaces between you grew longer, the silences more deafening.

You began to wonder if this was just how it had to be now. If love, no matter how deep, could survive when it was stretched thin by duty and distance. But fear began to creep in, insidious and unwelcome. It was twofold: the fear of losing Neteyam to the weight of his future, and the fear of losing yourself entirely to the relentless tide of duty.

It seemed that love or leisure took a backseat and only the ceaseless demands of survival drove up-front. Maybe, maybe, everything was silently nearing the end of you and him.

You missed him, so very much. But a part of you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of your pride or admit just how much you missed him. Perhaps you thought you were being unreasonable, that it shouldn’t hurt this much when he wasn’t around. So you turned away from him, convincing yourself that this distance was dignified, that it was better to seem indifferent than desperate.

Yet deep down, the fear gnawed at you. You were terrified of being too much, of clinging too tightly to the man destined to lead and maybe eventually leave you like he always did. Either due to the familiar duties or worse, death. If you moved closer, if you let yourself reach for him, you feared you wouldn’t be able to let go. And worse, you feared the day would come when you’d find yourself begging, pleading for him not to leave, not to hurt you ever again, and that would shatter you in a way you weren’t sure you could survive.

You awoke one day after he finally joined you in your hammock for the first time in many nights, and as expected, the warmth of his body pressed against yours was gone, leaving only the faintest memory, as fragile as dew kissed by the morning sun. Could it have been just a dream? The thought clawed at you. You hoped not, but the possibility felt plausible. After all, exhaustion had blurred the lines between reality and fantasy. Perhaps your sleep-deprived mind had conjured it all: the weight of his arms around you, the gentle press of his lips, the whispered words.

But just as the doubt began to settle, a soft rustle pulled your thoughts back to the present. The sound grew louder, and you turned your head to see the heart of the matter approaching your hammock once again. Neteyam.

The warrior, as if returning from a long combat, emerged from the soft morning light, his smile radiant and disarming, as if the very sight of you was the highlight of his day. In his hands, he held a woven pouch, bursting with herbs and dried flowers, their scents already filling the air between you.

“For your hammock,” he said, his voice warm and full of affection. He knelt in front of you, holding it out with both hands like an offering. “So that it smells like the forest… and not, you know.” His grin widened, boyish and unguarded, as if he couldn’t help but tease you just a little.

You blinked at him, surprised. “Did you… make this?”

“Of course,” he said proudly, a light laugh escaping his lips. “Well, okay, I asked Grandmother for help. But I picked the flowers myself. Only the best ones, paskalin (sweet berry).”

You brought the pouch to your nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was a perfect blend of calming herbs, delicate flowers, and something distinctly him—earthy, grounding, and utterly familiar.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. For once, you didn’t try to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “But it’s so early. How’d you find the time?”

Neteyam’s eyes softened as he looked at you, and he reached out, brushing his fingers gently against yours. “Yawne,” he began, his voice steady and full of conviction, “I will always find time for you. Even when I’m busy, even when it feels like the world is pulling us in every direction, you are the first thing on my mind. And I pray you never have to wait so long for me again.”

Before you could respond, he leaned closer, his smile deepening. “It’s always going to be me at the end of the line, no matter what. Remember that for me, please?”

And as if he knew what you had been thinking, his words hit you like a wave, sweeping away most of your doubt like it always did. Before it inevitably crept back in, of course. Yet something entirely else stirred within you as Neteyam leaned in closer. His proximity was disarming, his golden eyes holding you unexpectedly captive. His scent, warm and woodsy, wrapped around you like a second skin, and the sight of him this close—lips parted slightly, his sharp jawline catching the soft morning light—sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded slowly, but it was more out of reflex than control. Your hands tightened around the woven pouch, clutching it as though it could tether you to reality, though your mind was already spinning. Your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest as you couldn’t ignore how weak you felt under his gaze, knees threatening to buckle even though you were sitting.

He tilted his head, studying you with a faint smile tugging at his lips, so achingly handsome that it sent heat rushing through your cheeks.

“Yawne,” he murmured softly, his voice like a caress, “Are you alright?”

Your throat felt dry, and you cursed your inability to speak. You could feel the burn low in your core, an ache you didn’t know how to soothe, and you prayed he didn’t notice the flush creeping up your neck. But the way his eyes flickered over you—intently, as though he could read every thought you didn’t dare say aloud—made you wonder if he already knew.

“I, uh… I’m fine,” you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered, betraying you. But you summoned a smile for his grace, despite it all, “Thank you, Ma’ Teyam. For this, for everything.”

“Always welcome.” His smile grew, softer now, but laced with that teasing edge he reserved just for you. “Are you sure you’re alright?” His tone was light, but his hand reached out, fingers brushing against the side of your hip down to your thigh. The simple contact made you feel as though your whole body was alight. It was maddening how much power he held over you, how even a fleeting touch could leave you unraveling. You wanted to look away, to collect yourself, but the way he was looking at you—with that intoxicating mix of love and desire—had you rooted to the spot.

“Because,” he added, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost across your lips, “you look like you’re about to fall apart. And, paskalin, I’m not sure if I should hold you… or let you crumble, just so I can pick up every piece.”

His words sent your mind spinning, and you realized then that you weren’t sure whether you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. All you knew was that the heat of him, the weight of his gaze, was utterly consuming, and despite yourself, you wanted to burn.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Instantly, you demanded, “Pick me up. Bring me to your tent.”

There was no hesitation, no need for clarification. He knew exactly what you were asking, and it sent a flicker of something dangerous and thrilling through his golden eyes. His lips curved into a knowing smile, one that made your stomach flutter and your breath catch in your throat.

Without a word, Neteyam scooped you up effortlessly, his hands firm against your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The ease with which he held you made you feel small and completely at his mercy, and it only heightened the ache that had been building inside you for far too long.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he murmured, his voice a low, velvety tease as his forehead brushed against yours. The warmth of his breath danced across your skin, igniting every nerve as you struggled to keep your composure. “Almost thought you’d never ask…”

Your fingers threaded into his braids, pulling him just a little closer, your lips barely a breath apart. “Don’t make me regret this, ‘Teyam,” you whispered, though the tremor in your voice betrayed the longing you’d been trying to keep hidden.

“Regret?” He chuckled, a sound so rich and full it made your head spin. “Yawne, you’re about to remember why you never could.”

He carried you swiftly, his steps purposeful as the tension between you crackled like the air before a storm. Every glance he stole, every squeeze of his hands against you, eventually ended with a peck on your lips. And by the time he reached his tent, Neteyam set you down carefully, his eyes burning into yours with an intensity that stole your breath.

His thumb brushed along your cheek, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent chills down your spine. “Loving me might be dangerous, syulang (flower),” he said, his lips ghosting against yours, “but you’re the bravest thing I’ve ever known.”

And in that instant, you knew. You were going to fall for the risk of wanting him as long as you wake, no matter how perilous the drop.

AHHHH thank you for reading!! once again—likes, comments and reblogs are very deeply appreciated. 💞💞

i was wondering, should i have made them kiss? but then i was like nahhhhhhhhhh. i like how the story points to how love can be shown beyond just mere physicality (even if it gets suggestive at some point). it’s cute, don’t you think??

ANYWAYSS, i hope you guys enjoyed and thank you so much @aamircoeur for the request! i’ve definitely gotten a few in the mailbox lately & i’d love for more because i’m on a looooong vacation so i would love to write while i’m free!! if you have any ideas (esp your craziest / complicated ones as long as it’s PG) send em right up! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[lovebugism]

I have an idea for and eddie x reader fic where f!reader really wants to get into dnd but had no idea where to start, and is afraid of getting further teased by family and bullies at school. Tsym, your writing is the best! 🖤🖤

i can't stop writing part twos to stuff apparently, so please enjoy the unofficial second part of this fic! — the new girl learns about the hellfire rumors (shy!r, hurt/comfort, cw for brief mentions of bullying | 1.5k)

A familiar face waits for you outside Mr. Kaminsky’s chemistry lab. Eddie Munson, anticipating your arrival around the corner, grins with all his teeth when his unexpected presence takes you by surprise. 

You stumble back on unsure feet — a little like you had when you first met (though you don’t fall on your ass this time, thankfully) — then smile before you mean to.

“I’ve been going here for two weeks, you know?” you tell the boy towering over you, peering at him beneath your lashes. “I think I know my way around by now.”

Eddie bounces a shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Well, better to be safe, don’t ya think?” 

He flashes you a crooked smirk and tosses a leather-clad arm over your shoulder. You notice quickly that he’s got nothing in his ringed hands, not even a backpack, while you carry a mountain of textbooks in your aching arms. 

With Eddie’s help, you weave through the bustling hall of Hawkins High, which would otherwise trample you completely. The crowd seems to part for him instinctively — whether it’s intentional or not, you can’t tell. You don’t think Eddie notices it, either. He guides you to the west end of the school like doing so is muscle memory. You’re starting to think he knows your schedule better than his own.

“A lot of people would pay good money to have me as their personal escort, you know?” he jokes and tilts his wild head to his shoulder. A few untamed curls tickle the apples of your cheek in the process. He scrunches his nose down at you. “So you should be thanking me, really.”

Your face warms for a reason you can’t name. From the close proximity, maybe, or from the weight of your gratitude. Equal parts of both, perhaps. “Thank you,” you murmur shyly.

Eddie falters, sneakers scuffing against the tile. He’s still getting used to how kind you are; and how softly you look at him. “I was— I was being sarcastic. Don’t actually thank me,” he stammers, cheeks flaring pink. “Jeez. You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that?”

You giggle when he sweeps you around the corner. The sound is pretty enough to make him smile, though it ebbs much quicker than he’d like. It takes Eddie a moment too long to realize why, ‘cause he’s too busy ogling at how pretty you are. Which makes the sight before him borderline gagworthy.

“Well,” an infuriatingly familiar voice huffs. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Jason Carver, clad in his bright green letterman, stands at the center of a bunch of guys, also wearing bright green lettermans. 

You recognize a couple of their faces. Andy is the one with the sandy curls who spends all of biology cracking sex jokes. Patrick is the tall one with the Bobby Brown haircut who helped you with your locker once when the combination wouldn’t budge. 

The rest are nameless and unfamiliar. Save for the blonde boy in the middle of them, with the hundred-dollar haircut and the bright white smile. Everything you’ve learned about him has been entirely against your will.

Eddie blinks slowly at the crowd of muscled teens, not nearly as startled by the sight of them as you are. His dark eyes flit to the side, where they crowd at the entrance of the Hellfire room, and then back to Jason. “Well, are you gonna let us through, or do we need a password?” he deadpans.

Jason’s thin lips quirk at the edges. “Where are you guys off to?” 

“You’re a smart guy, Carver. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

The boy’s stone blue eyes dart between the two of you for a moment, before settling finally on you. “He’s not trying to recruit you into his cult, is he?” Jason squints.

Eddie tenses beside you. His warm arm slips from your shoulders and leaves you fighting back a shiver. An agonizing second passes before you get the courage to speak. “C-Cult?” you echo, noticeably unsure.

“Yeah,” Jason nods with wide eyes and a voice that borders on sympathetic. “They’re Satanists— him and all his Hellfire buddies. The five of ‘em? They’re bad news, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s chest tightens. Not because of Jason’s stupid melodramatics (he’s used to those now) but because he’s calling you sweetheart. And you’re not his fucking sweetheart. Eddie knows you’re not his either, exactly, but the principle still stands anyway. 

“Oh! You can count!” Eddie muses with an emotionless laugh. “I bet you know your ABC’s too!”

Jason’s face cracks only slightly. His sharp jaw clenches enough to make his temples shift. His suffocating gaze never wavers from yours. 

“I’m just trying to look out for you. That’s all,” he murmurs like he’s telling a secret, but obviously wanting Eddie to hear all of it. “Don’t get wrapped up in Munson’s shit, alright? He’s dangerous. He’ll swallow someone as sweet as you whole before you can blink.”

When Jason passes you, he caresses your elbow with a touch you assume is meant to be comforting. You tense like he’s burned you instead. He walks on by and takes his friends and too-strong cologne with him.

Eddie grits his teeth and stares daggers down the emptying hallway. He doesn’t want to cause a scene like he typically would — for your sake — but staying silent leaves him with no real place to put his anger. His rage simmers like a fire behind his ribcage, and he keeps it all to himself. Just like Jason wanted.

“Fucking douchebag,” Eddie grumbles as he storms into the Hellfire room. You follow cautiously behind him, watching silently while he paces around the empty classroom. The boy talks wildly with his hands. “I can’t stand him— He’s like a fucking goblin with an intelligence score of zero—”

“What… What was he talking about?” you wonder in a mousy voice, clammy hands wringing. “Back there? About the… the cult?”

“Nothing,” Eddie groans. He huffs and tilts his head back, revealing the tendons of his milky white neck. “He just thinks a couple of nerds playing D&D are worshipping satan, which is just… I mean, he throws balls into hoops in his spare time, but you don’t see me calling him a goddamn neanderthal, do you?”

He turns to face you, wide-eyed, like he’s expecting an answer. Then he sighs, bringing his chin to his chest and hiding behind his hair. “Nevermind. I actually do call him that, so… I guess it’s fair…”

“Does he always bother you like that?” you question, chest sparking with an emotion stronger than you used to. Strangely protective and very foreignly angry.

“Me? God, no— He’s not that big of an idiot,” Eddie scoffs, then turns suddenly serious. His dark eyes narrow across the room at you. “Has he been bothering you?”

You shift your weight under his smothering gaze. “No… Not like that, anyway. I’m usually with you, so… He mostly leaves me alone.”

Eddie sighs. His chest deflates with the heavy breath. He grows quickly shy as he closes the distance between you, arms crossed over his chest like a shield. He averts his gaze and swallows hard. “I’m— I’m sorry, by the way.”

Your brows pinch. “For what?”

He shrugs sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I just… I feel like I should’ve done more—”

“You did enough.”

“—I should’ve stuck up for you.”

“It’s not your job to stop assholes from being assholes, Ed.”

He doesn’t want to smile, but you make it distressingly hard not to. Especially when you’re grinning up at him like you are now. Especially when such vulgar words are spilling from such a pristine mouth.

“Well, I did kinda promise to keep you safe.”

“You have been, Eds,” you tell him with a pretty laugh, smiling so hard you’re squinting. “There’s no one else I’d rather be around, so… That’s gotta count for something, right?”

“That’s just because you’re crazier than I am, sweetheart.”

Your face flares, warmed by the term of endearment — far more when it’s spilling from his mouth than Jason’s. “Well, Hellfire’s for crazy people, I’ve heard. So I guess I’ll fit right in.”

Eddie’s button eyes go wide. His chin falls to his chest as he flashes you a solemn look. “You… You still wanna join?” he wonders, half shocked.

You take his surprise for distaste and cower all over again. “I mean… If you— If you’ll have me, I guess—”

“Of course!” the boy assures, far quicker and far louder than he intended. His voice rings through the empty classroom and he clears his throat, trying to play it cool. “I just thought that after Jason, you’d—”

“Screw Jason,” you blurt, foreignly harsh in a way that makes his heart skip. “I don’t care what he thinks. I like spending time with you.”

A smirk flickers at the very corner of Eddie’s mouth. “Really?”

“Really,” you echo. When you feel yourself start to drown in his chocolate eyes, you turn to the wooden figurines sitting on top of the table beside you. “You’ll have to teach me how to play, though. I have exactly zero clue where to start.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie shrugs, taking a daring step closer. He smirks and fights the urge to hold you — to caress your arm like Jason had, and to erase any remnants of his unwanted touch. His ringed hands tremble with yearning. He balls them into fists at his side. 

He smiles through the aching. “Just means we get to spend more time together, right?”

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, drinking, not my best work lol Wordcount: 6.6K A/C: so have we come up with a shipname for zari and paige yet?? anyways ty all for the support and sooo much love on the last part - especially those who remained patient for a new part! i've got a LOT of stuff going on rn so please be understanding if parts take a little longer to come out! i wanna write badly but i gotta prioritise real life unless y'all wanna start paying me lol anyways, this should be a rewarding chapter to some of y'all!! anyways go read!!

-

Before London

“The skirt,” my childhood friend Olivia’s voice filters through the speaker, my phone set up on my bed as I try on different outfits for the evening on facetime. 

I stare into my reflection, the black miniskirt not leaving much to imagination, my legs fully on display. I sigh, unsure whether it would be too much for the night.

“I don’t know Liv, the dress is a little less revealing though,” I complain, turning around and seeing the way the tight skirt hugs my curves.

“Exactly why you should wear the skirt instead.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her face on my phone screen. “I’m not going there to shag someone. It’s going to be mostly the team anyway.”

“Izzie, you are single now. Act like it. Have you even hooked up with anyone since…?”

I scoff. “Do you think I have time for anything like that?”

“Maybe if you schedule it in…” Olivia jokes, making my mouth fall open feeling offended.

“Hey! I’m perfectly happy being single right now. Love is the last thing I should be thinking about.”

“Well, I still think you should wear the skirt,” the girl answers, making me groan.

“Fine, okay gotta go. I’ll text you!” I wave bye, before hanging up, realising my ride must have arrived. One more glance in the mirror and I decide it will do - the black mini skirt and a matching black cowl neck top, the back draped low to reveal the smooth skin of my back along my spine. The outfit was simple yet sexy, the stacked chunky golden jewelry dressing the look up. I’ve pinned my hair up in a bun, curls falling out as if by accident - in reality the hairdo had taken over 45 minutes to accomplish.

“Good enough,” I murmur to myself, putting on my boots and quickly hurrying out the door. Just like we had agreed, Trey is waiting in an Uber, waving me over. He had sent me a message earlier asking if we could ride together. Of course I had said yes out of politeness. Though if I’m honest, I always felt a little uneasy around him.

“Hey!” I smile politely climbing into the backseat with a potted orchid in my hands.

Trey meets my smile with an even wider one, eyeing me up and down as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Housewarming present?” He asks, pointing to the potted flower. I shrug and nod.

“I didn’t really know what to get them,” I admit, crossing my legs and eyeing the purple and white flower.

“Lala’s gonna love that,” Trey nods, his eyes still locked on me and my outfit. “You look…” he goes silent, and from my peripheral vision I see the man shaking his head. “Really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, brushing it off lightheartedly as I grab my phone which is frantically buzzing.

Paige  When are u coming? I’m already here and idk anyone Oh nvm Lou and Chris are here So… when u coming???

I feel my stomach doing flips as I read the texts, my mind still swirling with how she’d made me breakfast just earlier this morning. How my couch still smells just like her even hours later. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something comforting about her presence. The way she worked to make me laugh, to get me to relax. Like she wanted to take care of me.

Just left so I should be there soon x

Izzie Iz Help We’re drinking wine

Time to be a big girl and learn Paige

But I don’t wanna 🙁 Fine Bc you said so

Good girl

Freaky 😏

Paige

Sorry I pregamed

Of course you did I’ll be there soon x

Giggling at my phone, I place it on my lap, not wanting to be rude towards the man sitting next to me. Trey’s eyes are locked on me, and I can feel myself growing uneasy, especially when I realise I have nothing to talk to him about other than work.

”You excited for tonight?” He asks.

”Yeah, it’s going to be nice to see everyone out of work,” I answer, keeping my composure despite feeling awkward, begging he doesn’t pick up on it. I had become quite good at that (or Trey was more ignorant than I realised).

”Oh yeah, you haven’t really had the chance to do that yet huh?” He asks, his deep voice gravelly.

“Not really no.”

“Well, if you ever get lonely, you can always call me up Zari,” Trey says, reaching over and suddenly placing his hand on mine resting on my lap. I keep still as long as I can before pulling it away, pretending I just needed that specific hand to hold the pot in my lap now.

“Uh, yeah that’s really sweet of you. Thank you,” I chuckle awkwardly. “Paige lives right upstairs actually so I’ve been spending some time with her.”

Trey is taken aback, his brows rising. “Paige?”

“Yeah we’re friends,” I smile. Trey’s dark brown eyes keep watching me, clearly thinking about something till he shrugs and looks away. 

The drive is quiet, full of awkward comments by the man clearly eager to make conversation. Normally I was better than this at the small talk that the Americans seemed to love so much - but not today. I could feel my stomach twisting with nerves and butterflies in anticipation for the evening. I wasn’t entirely sure why. But all I knew I was eager to see Paige - she had a way of grounding me.

We finally get to the building, awkwardly accompanying each other in the elevator much like my first day working for the Wings. I’m the one to ring the doorbell, Trey standing close behind me.

“Hey pretty girl!” Lala opens the door with a warm smile. “Oh hey Trey, come in come in!”

She steps aside, letting both of us in. The hallway is long and the ceilings are high, the space modern but filled with gorgeous furniture bringing warmth into the space. 

“Wow, beautiful,” I gasp looking around.

“Issa work in process,” Lala laughs. I catch a glimpse into the open concept kitchen/living room, filled with people who had arrived on time unlike me and Trey (our Uber had taken a “shortcut”, which ended up taking 15 minutes longer than the normal drive.) I could tell alcohol was already flowing from the loud laughs echoing around the apartment.

“Oh, here you go!” I smile, handing Lala the orchid. “I wasn’t sure what you two wanted so I hope that’s okay.”

Lala gasps, admiring the plant. “No, this is gorg! And so are you, look at that skirt girl.”

I blush a little as she spins me around, admiring my outfit. 

“Is it too short?” I ask but Lala looks at me with raised brows. It’s then I notice her skirt is just as short, if not shorter. “Nevermind!”

The woman laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me further into the apartment. My eyes immediately land on Paige next to Arike, both taking up half of the couch as if partaking in the Olympics of manspreading. Their laughs rise above the chatter of the crowd, making them impossible to miss. Even if subconsciously I had been looking for the blonde the second I stepped in.

“Yeah… they’re already drunk, thought you should know,” Lala nods towards the two.

“I heard, Paige was texting me already.”

The woman turns to me grinning a little. “Of course she was.” I’m not exactly sure what it means but don’t get the opportunity to ask before I hear a loud screech interrupting the both of us.

“Izzie!!” Paige gasps, her voice soaring above the noise. She climbs off the couch, rushing to me through the crowd. To my surprise the blonde wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I can’t help the smile that spreads to my face. It comes naturally, when my arms wrap around her neck, pulling her in. Like since our first hug this morning, physical closeness felt easy. She smells like deodorant, sandalwood and a hint of alcohol. Breaking the hug, I eye her fit up and down - the olive cuban collar shirt and shorts in a matching pattern, two silver chains dangling on her neck, hair in a slicked back bun. 

All while I’ve been admiring Paige’s outfit, her gaze has been roaming across my body, taking me in. I notice a hint of red burning on her cheeks when her blue eyes land on my skirt. Suddenly I have the strongest need for a drink. Our stares meet, and for a fleeting moment I think she’s about to say something. But before she can, Arike is pulling me into a friendly hug.

“So glad you came, Zari! Whatchu wanna drink?” 

I feel flustered, barely hearing her. Clearing my throat, I finally answer, feeling the blonde’s eyes boring into me.

“White wine please?”

Lala laughs, shaking her head and grabbing my shoulders. “You’re gonna need something stronger to keep up with us baby.”

I laugh. “Okay, tequila soda then?”

“Attagirl, lime?”

“Yes please,” I nod, watching Lala and Arike head towards the kitchen island covered in bottles of booze and glasses, leaving me alone with Paige. 

For the first time in weeks, there’s a sense of awkwardness between us, neither of us knowing what to say. I wanted to tell her she looks good, that the olive against her skin that had grown more tan in Dallas made her glow in a way I had never seen before. But something in my throat doesn’t allow the words to come out. Thankfully the booze in Paige’s system makes her miss the weird tension completely.

“You look,” she starts, stepping closer to me, arm brushing against mine. She shakes her head, looking me up and down which is enough to make my ears burn. “Never seen you look like this before.”

I tilt my head, meeting her blue eyes challengingly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

To my enjoyment, this makes her flustered, her cheeks bright pink now.

“You know it is ma,” she grins.

“You and that bloody nickname,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the blonde, when Lala and Arike return to us with my drink.

“You guys wanna play beer pong?” Arike asks as I grab the glass from Lala.

“What is this, a frat house?” Paige laughs, making Lala groan.

“Trust, it wasn’t my choice.”

-

After a long debate between me, Izzie, Arike and Lala on who should be teaming up, we decided that the only fair combination was me with Lala, while Arike and Izzie played against us - the girls claiming it wouldn’t be right for the two hoopers to play beer pong against non-athletes. Honestly, I barely had listened to the conversation at all. Because the way Izzie looks tonight has me grasping the drink in my hand so tight my knuckles were beginning to turn white. My mind is travelling to the filthiest places at the thought of what is underneath the hemline of her skirt, her glowy legs making me weak in the knees. Even worse was the low, scooped back of her shirt, her spine’s movement visible as she walked around the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, I couldn’t even stop the trembling of my hands. I needed to get more drinks in me quickly.

It seemed like the dark haired girl had the same idea, downing her first tequila soda in a matter of minutes as we set up the game. The tension often visible on her face only to me was slowly beginning to melt away.

“We’re about to win aight?” I tell Lala next to me, which makes Izzie let out a loud scoff.

“You really think I’ll let you win Bueckers?” The dark haired girl asks, challenging me.

“Yo, who’s the athlete here,” I respond, an arrogant grin on my face but she won’t back down, catlike eyes staring me down at the opposite end of the table.

“You’re enormously underestimating my desire to win.”

“Oh yeah?”

Izzie nods. “Yes Paige.”

And she’s right. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol already flowing in my system, or the way Izara looks, her green eyes locked on me everytime I bounce the ball off the table but my aim is off. And somehow she keeps aiming perfectly, a sly grin and her sharp eyes glimmering as she makes me drink one cup of beer after another, after another until Lala is the one to call it off, admitting defeat gracefully.

Arike and Izara hug, celebrating their win, but I can’t even be mad - the way Izzie’s mouth is stretched into a wide smile, the way she was letting go off her disciplined, hard exterior as a result of the alcohol was such a joy to watch I could’ve soaked in it forever.

“I told you! I told you!” Iz laughs, coming over to me and getting up in my face. But all I’m doing is smirking, my hand snaking around her waist and pulling her close without thinking about it much. But she doesn’t pull away either, even when our fronts nearly press together, heat radiating between us. The party has turned loud, drunk people bumping into each other, yelling over the music, but all I see is the dark haired girl in front of me, and the blush on her cheeks.

“You were cheating Iz,” I tell her, heavy eyes gazing down at the girl.

“How?” She asks, stunned.

I shrug. “I dunno.” I did know. It was that damn outfit. It took every ounce of self-discipline I had not to drag her to the bathroom and pull that skirt up. How was I expected to aim while my thoughts were running out of control.

“Here you areeeee!” Satou’s voice interrupts the moment, making me stumble backwards and letting go of the girl in my arms realising how close I’d been to losing control and leaning down to kiss her.

Satou hugs both me and Iz, looking around for the couple of the hour who have suddenly disappeared. “Where the lovebirds at?” She asks, holding a wrapped present in her hands. I chuckle shrugging but Zari lets out a giggle.

“Last I saw them they were getting pretty cosy,” she laughs, leaning into my side whether on purpose or on accident I’m not sure. But it leaves my skin tingling.

“No one’s surprised,” Satou laughs, waving her friend over. “Savannah, this is Paige and… Izara, right?” 

“She prefers Zari,” I correct before Iz can even say a word. From my peripheral vision I see her head snap to me, eyes growing softer as they land on me. I could tell she was happy with me, which made me want to get on my knees and beg for her to let me serve her forever. Okay, no, let me get a grip.

“Whassup,” I nod at Savannah, who smiles at both me and Izzie. Suddenly, the girl beside me stumbles as someone bumps into her, crashing straight into me.

“Woah,” I grab a hold of her, my hand naturally landing on the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she giggles, watching me and her nose scrunching as her face twists into a laugh. The sparkling eyeshadow covering her eyelids makes her shine even more, curled strands falling onto her face out of the updo her long, dark hair is in. She looks so beautiful I feel breathless, even more so up close.

“You want a drink ma? I could use one,” I ask, staring into the green of her eyes, feeling the alcohol too much to realise that our faces are only inches away at this point.

She rolls her eyes. “Paige, I hate that nickname.”

“Do you want a drink or not woman?” I ask annoyed, teasing her. But her face hardens, and her eyes sharpen.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is hard and serious, making my lower abdomen flip. As inappropriate as it feels, I’m exceptionally turned on.

I swallow, biting my lower lip. “Uh…”

“Woman?” She interrupts me, furrowing her brows. I can feel heat pooling between my legs, making my mind spin.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, my voice coming out shaky from how flustered my thoughts had turned me.

“What’s that?” She asks, brows rising as she watches my mouth expectantly.

“I’m sorry Izzie,” I say louder, my chest heaving now. To my surprise, I notice her breathing is growing heavy too.

“Mhm, that’s better,” she nods, eyes still on my mouth as I bite down on my lower lip. And for just a second, as my eyes flicker from her eyes to her glossed lips, I consider leaning in and pressing a kiss on them, mind jumping to how she might taste. Like heaven I bet.

“So a drink then?” Iz asks, interrupting my spinning thoughts. 

“Oh right, yeah,” I compose myself, “we’ll be right back.”

We leave Satou and Savannah alone, my hand on the small of Izara’s back guiding her through the people to the kitchen island.

“What do we want to drink?” The girl asks, looking at the row of bottles lining the counter. I lean in even closer to her side, letting my hand drag from her back to around her waist. The girl’s breath hitches audibly, yet she doesn’t pull back.

“Shots! Now!” Arike suddenly interrupts us, Lala following close behind her.

“Bro where you been?” I ask, watching as she begins to pour shots of vodka for all four of us. Her and Lala exchange a look that tells me I don’t want to know the answer to my question.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, making Izzie giggle, the alcohol finally loosening her up.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” the dark haired girl shakes her head, pushing the shot away.

“Oh c’mooonnn!!” I groan, pushing it back.

“Yeah Zari, c’mon,” Rike complains.

I pick up my own shot glass, and Izara’s as well, bringing it to her lips. She’s considering, meeting my gaze, until her pretty lips open and I tip the glass, pouring the shot into her mouth as I throw my head back, swallowing mine. 

“Holy shit,” I cough, making everyone around me laugh, looking at the dark haired girl whose face doesn’t even twitch from the alcohol. Damn.

“And another oneeee,” Arike laughs, now pouring tequila into the glasses, clearly trying to get us two drunk. I glare at her, picking up on what she was up to. But Rike merely winks at me, handing us salt and lemon slices.

“Oh boy,” Izara chuckles, eyeing the alcohol. I follow closely as her tongue darts out to lick her wrist, my mind spinning with dirty thoughts involving that tongue between my le-

“Lemon!” The girl yelps, squeezing her eyes shut having taken the shot. I quickly grab the slice from the counter, holding Izzie’s face still by her chin as I place the wedge between her lips. Her teeth bite into it, sucking on the bitter fruit to get rid of the taste in her mouth.

Her dark lashes flutter open, and she pulls away with a grin. “Your turn.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my tongue already growing numb from the alcohol, my speech certainly beginning to slur soon.

“Yo Zari, you should let Paige lick the salt from your wrist,” Arike yells from the opposite side of the counter, earning a slap on the shoulder from Lala.

“Huh?” Izara laughs, turning to the pair.

“Ignore her, God knows I do,” Lala rolls her eyes.

Flustered, I fumble with the salt shaker, licking it off my hand and downing the shot of tequila, feeling the burn in my throat making me want to cough. To my surprise, Iz brings the slice of lemon to my lips, the bitter taste putting an end to the burn.

I can feel the alcohol hitting, making my cheeks burn - or maybe it’s the way the dark haired girl is looking at me, her eyes even more catlike than normal, sparkling in the dimmed lighting. Either way I can feel my brain and mouth beginning to slow down, yet my words and actions seem simultaneously sped up, like I couldn’t think them through before doing.

“I’mma admit, I’m drunk as fuck,” I laugh, making Izara throw her head back and let out a bright chuckle, grabbing onto my shoulder as she does. Fuck she looks hotter than usual, the hard, poised exterior breaking, letting me catch little glimpses into her internal life, reminiscent of the softness on her face when she fell asleep on me.

“Let’s run away before Arike makes us take more shots,” she whispers and simultaneously somehow screams, grabbing my arm and dragging me down behind the island, as if Arike and Lala weren’t standing right on the other side, watching the two of us. Still I let her, crouching behind it and letting her drag me wherever she wants to. 

-

I love Dallas! Or maybe I should reconsider when I’m sober, but now that the shots and drinks had been flowing, I had decided I loved Dallas for certain. Paige and I have been hiding behind a corner, by the entrance to Arike’s and Lala’s bedroom, for the past hour, giggling and talking. I’ve realised Paige might be one of my favourite people I’ve ever met, the strain in my abs a reminder of how easily she made me laugh. How effortless it was to spend time with her, like I didn’t have to put up any exterior or front. I felt comfortable being myself with her. So naturally, in my drunken state, the words slip from my lips easily.

“You’re like, my favourite person right now,” I giggle, leaning my back against the cool wall and watching upwards at her. Paige’s eyes are heavy and red as a result of the alcohol, hair somehow still neatly slicked back, however a button on her chest left unbuttoned, displaying that she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra under the shirt.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a proud smirk on her face. She’s standing in front of me, arms crossed.

“Don’t let it get into your head darling,” I scoff, pushing her off by her abdomen, feeling the muscles there tighten when my fingertips graze her through the shirt. For whatever reason I’d been wanting her to touch me all night, enjoying the times she wrapped her arm around my waist, or guided me through a crowd. It felt good to be touched, so I didn’t worry about what it meant further. I just wanted her hands on me. Like you’d want to hug a friend after remembering how much you love them.

“Why do you get to have all these nicknames but I don’t get to call you ma?” She asks, stumbling back but returning to her prior position, if not a little closer. I place my hands on her waist, having to tilt my head to look at her - that’s how close she is.

“Why do you want to call me ma?”

“Because,” she groans, looking for something to say. “Ion know it suits you.”

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because you’re sexy.”

I’m drunk. And I know it’s because I’m drunk. It has to be. But I can feel myself begin to throb between my legs when Paige says those words, when her teeth bite onto her bottom lip, when she looks me up and down. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of the swirling in my lower abdomen, the heat spreading straight to my core.

The blonde rubs the bridge of her nose. “Ahh shit Iz, I didn’t mean it like that. My bad. You just look really damn good. In like a friend wa-”

“You think I look sexy?”

It’s like my mouth and brain aren’t working together, the words just forming and leaving my lips without a single thought or action to stop them. For some reason it comes out almost whiny. Like I want her opinion, her reassurance.

Paige looks surprised, clenching her jaw before kissing her teeth and licking her lips, hands twitching as if for something to touch.

“I meannn… you really gotta ask that?” She says hoarsely, stepping closer and placing her hands on my hips. It feels good, but I want more, pushing my body off the wall and pressing my front against her. The sparks are immediate, and I nearly groan at the contact. 

“You didn’t answer,” I demand, staring into the blues of her eyes. Only then I realise how blue they really are, like a turquoise ocean against a sandy beach, inviting, beautiful. My heart begins to pound, even more so when I feel Paige’s hands move from my waist, downwards to my hips, to the small of my back, and finally to my ass. 

“Perfect,” she coos.

The breath she lets out is heavy, loud, but I barely register, my mouth parting a little. To say the chills travelling through my body are overwhelming would be an understatement, my mind suddenly spinning with realisation of something I’d been feeling for a while, yet only recognised now.

“Is this okay?” Paige asks, making me nod my head. When I do so I feel the blonde’s hands squeeze just a little, forcing a breathy whimper to spill from my lips. Overcome with the urge to be even closer to her, I wrap my arms around the girl’s broad shoulders and lean my head into the crook of her neck, my body slotting against hers just right. It feels euphoric.

 “Baby I would leave too if I was Paige, that poor girl got to deal with you on a daily basis alr-”

Suddenly Lala’s voice grows louder as she turns the corner, Arike on her tail. 

“Oh, sorry y’all,” the woman gasps seeing us embracing, Paige’s hands resting on my ass. Embarrassed, I pull away, nearly pushing the blonde off of me.

“Uh, I need a drink,” I murmur, my thoughts moving so quickly they make no sense, not even entirely sure what just happened in a drunken hue.

“Yoooo,” I hear Arike snickering, and Lala shutting her up.

Paige follows close behind me all the way back to the kitchen island, people around the apartment now notably drunker, louder, stumbling into each other. “You aight?” 

“Yeah, yes. I am,” I murmur, pouring whatever booze there was in reach into a glass and downing it, attempting to calm the running thoughts trying to make sense of all of this.

“You sure ma?”

Fuck. The nickname. Suddenly it’s making my core burn, and I feel arousal pooling between my legs almost uncomfortably. Maybe that nickname wasn’t so bad. Maybe it got me so hot and bothered I could barely think. Maybe I wanted her to call me that and only that for the rest of my life.

“Mm, I’m sure,” I mumble, turning to look at the tall blonde beside me, the way some of the buttons on her shirt have come undone, the way she’s eyeing me back, her veiny hands wrapping around a bottle as she pours herself another drink, the chains on her neck, dangling into her shirt. It’s then when I realise - I want to fuck Paige Bueckers.

“Here you are, Paige! Have you seen Satou?” Savannah interrupts us, but my eyes are still stuck on the blonde next to me.

“No, I got no idea where she is sorry.”

“What about your girlfriend, she seen her?”

Suddenly my eyes snap from Paige to the stranger leaning over the island, blinking stupidly.

“I’m not her girlfriend,” I say sternly, my tone harder than it needs to be. I could feel myself getting overwhelmed.

“Wh- oh shit, I’m sorry. You two just seem like a coup-”

“We’re not together,” Paige interrupts her, clearly picking up on my stress levels rising. I feel the room spinning, my breathing growing shallow, my cheeks burning up.

Lala, who had been watching me and the blonde all night, swiftly walks over and grabs me by the waist. “Come with me baby,” she coos, her voice caring and affectionate as she walks me into the couple’s bedroom, closing the door behind us, separating me from everything causing the engulfing emotions.

“Sit down Zari, I’ll get you some water.”

I do as the older woman says, feeling embarrassed, just praying to any God that I didn’t cause a scene. I could feel my head spinning still, the effect from the alcohol still flowing in my bloodstream.

Lala returns and hands me a glass. I chug it down, handing it back to the woman and staring at the floor.

“Are you alright?” Lala asks, sitting next to me and following me closely. I rub my forehead, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m more drunk than I realised,” I murmur but the woman shakes your head.

“I think it’s more than that, Zari.”

I look at her, a knowing expression on the woman’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Paige isn’t it, you like her?”

I sigh, not even sure how to answer that question. Not sure at all what the feelings swirling inside me meant. 

“I… I just think I’m drunk-”

“She likes you,” Lala interrupts me. I take her words in, blinking slowly as I do. Paige likes me?

“How do you know?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. Something about the older woman made me feel safe.

Lala chuckles, shaking her head. “I think everybody knows baby.”

Oh.

I’m speechless for once, staring at the wall, recounting every interaction I had ever had with the blonde girl. My friend. Could she really like me? Worse of all, have I led her on?

“Look, just be careful alright. Don’t give her the wrong idea if… you know, you don’t feel the same,” Lala rubs my shoulders, like reading my thoughts. It all confused me, my feelings most of all - and deep deep down I wasn’t sure about what I felt, my mind an entangled, confusing pile of perplexity.

-

“Hey you alright?” Paige murmurs to me, pressing into my back as I’m pouring myself more water in the kitchen after my little breather. My body is covered in chills once more by her proximity - which must be a sign I like her at least a little bit. Or maybe I’m just needy for someone to touch me. I was drunk after all, and it had been a while. But then again, these chills always occurred when the blonde’s hands were on me, sometimes even when they were not. Just a simple look was enough.

“Yeah, I felt a little dizzy. Feel better now though,” I murmur, finishing another glass of water.

Paige hesitates, chewing on her cheek, clearly in her head as I turn around and notice her expression. “I didn’t do too much ri-”

“Here you are!! I love this song, come dance!” A drunk Satou interrupts the moment, dragging both me and the blonde into the living room, not giving us much choice in the matter. 

“Song’s almost over,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me as I shrug but follow the two hoopers.

“Who cares, I love it!” Satou laughs. We’re surrounded by a few others, dancing to the Drake song echoing around the apartment. As the beat fades out, I hear the soft melody of What You Heard by Sonder take over.

“Nooo, boo, I’mma go ask for more Drake,” Satou murmurs, walking off, leaving me and Paige alone.

Our gazes meet and we chuckle at the same time at the girl who just left, clearly even drunker than me and Paige.

“Fuck your mind up, waste time, I'm prone to that, do it all the time, Keep your guard up or wait in line”

“This song is actually fire,” Paige grins and I nod.

“It is.”

I take a dip in her blue eyes, finding comfort in them as the song plays, not at all shocked when Paige steps closer and grabs a hold of my waist, swaying with me. The alcohol is still pumping through my veins, making it easy to wrap my arms around her neck without thinking what it might mean. It felt good to be close to her, so what?

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts.”

Paige sings along to the lyrics, the tiniest bit off-key yet something about it makes me grow flustered quickly, mind flashing with images of her doing exactly what the lyrics describe.

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts, When I get you to myself, it's murder,” I sing back to Paige, our eyes meeting. Her eyelids are heavy from the drinks, and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face. Her silver chains sparkle in the dim lighting, but all I’m looking at is the way she’s staring me down.

Something about the alcohol makes me bold, pressing my body closer to hers, my fingernails scratching into the back of her neck gently, watching as her eyes nearly flutter shut at the contact.

“You be wildin', I be wildin', too, But not like you, shit, maybe a little like you, Maybe we ain't so different, maybe I be trippin', too,” we sing to each other, the blonde’s thumbs rubbing circles on my hips as we dance together. I feel the burn from earlier spread to my core once more, making it hard to think clearly. 

Our faces are inching closer, to the point where I can feel her hot breath on my skin. My heart begins to pound and it becomes difficult to keep my eyes open. Paige licks her lips, leaning downwards. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me, the distance between us growing smaller and smaller - until she ghosts my lips, turning her face, mouth hovering right over my ear, warm breath tickling against my skin.

“If he was a winner, Girl, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout a damn thing, If I was up in it, shit, I bet a pound that I'd put it down, Make you forget that you was ever with him,” she murmurs into my ear with the lyrics of the song, left hand staying on my hip, right hand coming up to the back of my head to hold it still as we keep swaying to the melody.

I feel flustered, my cheeks growing hotter and my core aching for something. No, not for something - for Paige.

“And I hate talking 'bout my stroke game, But girl, I'm giving you the whole thing,” she murmurs with a deep, hoarse voice, my body tingling and on fire at the same time. 

Turning my face, my nose brushes into the blonde’s, but I’m too scared to open my eyes, too scared that if I do I’ll start thinking again, realising how senseless this entire situation is.

Paige’s nose nuzzles mine, and I can hear the shallowness of her breathing, her hand at the back of my head maneuvering me in a way so our lips are hovering over each other. I feel like I might pass out, my heart trying to race out of my chest at this point.

“Paige, Zari, I finally found herrrr!” Satou shouts over the crowd, making both of us pull away. My eyes shoot open and I see the girl holding her friend Savannah.

“Oh! Good!” I smile awkwardly, Paige’s hands still on me. 

“Jesus…” The blonde murmurs to herself, looking around clearly frustrated by the unwelcome interruption. “You wanna go to the balcony for, uh, some fresh air?”

“Yeah,” I nod, without thinking. I let the tall girl walk me onto the balcony, closing the door behind us.

Fresh air it is not, the weather a hot and humid warning for the approaching scorching Dallas summer. But it still feels right to be alone with Paige, under the dark Texas sky. I glance upwards, looking at the stars to avoid meeting the blonde’s stare.

“So damn hot,” Paige groans, unbuttoning her shirt even more to get more airflow, though I couldn’t care less. I’m only gazing at the way the chains on her neck rest against her skin.

“Yeah, it certainly is,” I mumble, leaning my back against the glass railing.

Paige looks at me with something I can’t recognise, her expression softening as she’s taking steps towards me. “Fuck, that accent,” she murmurs, her hands easily finding their way to my waist again.

“What do you mean?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I dunno, I just love hearing you talk.”

I chuckle, bringing my hand to her chest and playing with the chain there, number 5 dangling off it. Paige grins too, continuing.

“And the things you say too.”

I scoff, displeased. “Like what?”

“I dunno! British things!”

“British things??” I ask, laughing so hard my stomach begins to hurt, my fingers still fiddling the number 5.

“Like… Taking the piss!” She laughs, leaning closer. I bend forward too, my face scrunching as pearls of giggles spill from my mouth.

“Oh my God, you’re so stupid,” I murmur in a blur of joy, my hand snaking behind her head. In the haze of the alcohol and the giggles and the newfound feelings, before I can think it through, I’m pulling her down by the chain and her head, leaning closer and kissing her.

It’s heaven. Every nerve in my body is on fire. The blonde’s lips open for me, slowly but sensually sliding against mine. My legs feel weak, and my nails dig into the skin of her neck, a whimper leaving my mouth but she swallows it, groaning in response. Her hands squeeze my waist before moving to my face, landing on my jaw to keep me as close as possible - like she might die if I pull away.

I’m pressed closer to the glass behind my back as the kiss grows hungrier. Paige’s mouth opens further, her tongue darting out to slide against my lower lip, begging for entry with a small whine slipping from the blonde’s mouth. It’s like everything pent up was finally releasing, something I didn’t even know was there, bubbling right underneath the surface. My tongue meets Paige’s, both of us melting into the kiss. I feel like putty in her hands, like she could mold me whichever way possible. This is the best kiss I’ve ever experienced, I know that for sure. Jasper always kissed in such a stiff, forceful way. Right. Jasper.

It takes me back to the moment, as if for a sliver of a second I can think clearly. What the fuck am I doing. This isn’t me. I haven’t thought this through at all. I’m leading Paige on.

Abruptly I pull back for air, the taller girl already dragging me back into another kiss needily. But I push Paige back by her chest, stopping her. We’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What the fuck am I doing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” I mumble, shoving her off me as gently as I can, saying quick goodbyes to Lala and Arike before practically running down the stairs and throwing myself into a cab, leaving Paige upstairs as if nothing happened. The only proof of the night’s events merely the way my lips still burn and tingle, and my racing heart and swirling mind trying to make sense of everything.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers

[1920sladydectective]

Okay but… first of all I LOVE your writing. It’s amazing and I’m so hyped for the miniseries!! (Please tag me if possible 💖)

Would you ever write for a reader who is very good friends with Mel (maybe college or coworkers or just generally friends) and when she meets Ambessa she just has the biggest crush?? The forbidden-smut-overall tension would send me 💔

Hello sweetpea,

Thank you for all your support, you're a star. Here is part one of this University friend sex AU situation. I will be writing more and it will be an angsty, smut to love tension fest, for now this is the silly set up and initial sex. I hope you like! 4.2K, not proofread.

Ambessa is kinder here, as in modern worlds she couldn't be a warlord to me and I fancied making her a more playful, enticing woman like she can be in canon. She's still a bad parent but less so I guess?

I'm British and was picking Saltburn half the time lol

Writing slowed as my assignments killed me, hoping to get back to it without burning myself out

xoxo

WARNINGS: Drug use, Alcohol Use, Age Gap Sex, Best Friend's Mum sex, degradation and praise, silly uni kids being uni kids.

Mel’s offer to spend the summer at her childhood home was a blessing. With your mother gone and your father on an oil rig, you were not looking forward to spending summer alone in your hometown. 

This was a little much however. She’d called it a bit over dramatic as you pulled onto a private road, but driving up you saw a stately manor with its own forest surrounding it. You called that rich as fucking shit. It loomed over its surroundings and if Mel was to be believed, its owner was much the same. 

You knew Mel had money, though she was a generous and likeable person who was very open about it, she reeked of it without her open disclosures. The sleek Land Rover you had road tripped in was another obvious case, spacious for two and perfect for endless roads of Katy Perry blasting. 

Somehow, despite the excitement, you knew staying here was going to have its troubles. Even if it was as small as getting lost on the way to the bathroom. 

Mel’s mother was another thing to be tense about. She was exacting and harsh and apparently devoid of all love. Despite this Mel was happy to return home for the ten week summer, perhaps because she had you as a shield. 

A man, a Butler, by the name of Rictus came out to greet you and collect your things, taking them to your respective rooms as Mel dragged you along on a half hearted, sarcastic tour. Her entryway was larger than your flat and it made you snort. Paintings worth more than you were fucking everywhere and of course she had a huge, regal looking cat. 

“Mina is very aggressive,” Mel muttered, “I think it’s the only reason Mother tolerates her,” 

“Hello Mina, I shall give you your space,” You said calmly, the ornate ball of fur screeching at you and running away. 

Her departure heralded the matriarch, and Mel’s face stilled. 

“Mel, my darling,” Her voice was amused, her stature and look mesmerising as she emerged from a side room, “I would have come to greet you had I known it was this afternoon you’d be arriving,”

“You did know,” Mel scoffed into her mother’s sudden and short hug, before rolling her eyes in your direction. 

“And you must be Mel’s little friend, come to stay,” 

“She has a name,”

You did and it stumbled out of your lips, an unsure smile on your face. Why did Mel’s mum have to be the hottest woman you had literally ever seen? “Thank you for having me, Mrs Medarda,” 

“The pleasure’s mine, Dear,” Her sharp focus was solely on you and you felt suddenly very breakable, “I do hope you enjoy our hospitality,” 

Mel gripped your arm, dragging you away with platitudes to her mother about seeing her at dinner. Once you’d made it to her (ridiculous, opulent, crazy) bedroom, she let out a huff. 

“I’m sorry about her, she isn’t around a lot so we won’t have to worry about it too often,”

“It’s okay,” Your voice was calming, giving your friend a winning smile, “Anything beats an empty flat and working in a coffee shop,” 

You began to regret that reassurance once you sat opposite Mel eating a bowl of french onion soup. It felt like you were intruding on a private moment, jabs and quips hidden behind flowery words as the Medarda women tore each other to shreds. It was the first time you’d seen Mel on the back foot. 

Rictus seemed used to it, serving food and sorting through the house as their voices rose. You learned this was his last day before a long holiday and clearly he had decided it was not worth pitching in his opinions when Mel or Ambessa asked for them.

Instead, Ambessa drew you into the conversation against her daughter's wishes, tugging opinions from you about food and schooling and her house. Each one seemed to widen her smirk, golden orbs fixed on you. She felt warm, inviting to you, in the way a lion would. Majestic but deadly. Fatigued and stuck in a power struggle, you ate tiramisu in silence. Then Ambessa mentioned the party. 

“Mother really,” Mel groaned, “Must you?”

“Must I have my annual summer party in my own house? Same as I do every year?” She scoffed, fixing her with a colder stare. 

“I-I don’t know, could be fun,” It was clear in Mel’s eyes you were a traitor, though she wished to appease both friend and host. 

“Exactly, thank you dear,” Her warm smile shone on you again, “and you girls can help me,” 

“Of course,” Mel rolled her eyes, seemed you’d laid your bed and she would make you lie in it, “She especially would love that, she has an eye for culinary arts,”

What a lie. You burnt water. Ambessa didn’t seem to notice or care. 

Several days passed like this, basking in the sun, swimming in the pool and being the unintentional deciding vote in Medarda madness. Kino, Mel’s brother, seemed to usually fill that role and favoured Mel constantly. You, however, were a more even bet and that seemed to delight Ambessa. Mel was right about the ridiculously large orchestra, Ambessa’s view on the food timings made more sense. This went on and on for the first two weeks as you settled into a routine. Ambessa seemed to be around constantly, far more than Mel was used to and Kino would not return until the night of the party. Everything seemed to be balancing as well as it could until the day the party arrived and you realised with a resounding slap to the soul that you had a crush on Ambessa Medarda. 

It was fucked. You knew that. She was your friend’s mum and a scary, mysterious woman to boot. But she was also light and funny and beautiful. She made you feel special and considered and opened her home to you, lavishing you in a luxury you had never known. Sometimes it felt personal, like her eyes lingered to spark heat on your skin. Her hands would brush yours as she passed a plate at the table, she would leave tea for you on the kitchen island as you always rose just after her. It was maddening and probably in your head. 

This dreadful, eye opening doomed, morning started with Mina the cat. Fruit tea firmly in your grasp, you made your way to the library. Instead of finding it empty, you heard Ambessa’s velvet tone, eyes catching the back of her as she stroked the bundle of evil fluff. 

“Now, my little demon,” Ambessa muttered, “You have mutilated my favourite scarf and for that you shall suffer, how do you plead?”

Mina growled, nibbling on her long, strong, beautiful- nibbling on her fingers. 

“I see, into the fire you go,” She muttered, faking a throw into the cold, ash coated harth as Mina skipped off under the bookshelves instead, “On the lam? I should have guessed,”

Your little snort travelled, her eyes snapping to meet yours as she raised an eyebrow. Whoops fuck. 

“Another criminal in our midst,” She smiled, teeth glinting, “Though I’d say you’re less slippery, darling,” 

Darling. Fuck. You were doomed. 

It was then that the realisation had hit, and molten fear and excitement curdled in your stomach. She was muttering about how you could help her with party preparations, words smoothing over you like gentle waves as you nodded. Somehow you were in the kitchen again, in an apron more expensive than your car cutting carrots and listening to her hum Frank Sinatra of all things. 

Mel didn’t come down until well past noon, obviously intentional on her part as you popped the last of the prepped food in the multitude of fridges. The rest was being done by caterers, but Ambessa had had you prepare her staples for the one hundred and fifty guests. You wondered how they’d all fit, but it was a stupid thought. She could have had thousands here with little trouble. 

“Somebody has been a little Angel,” Ambessa said, voice light as she locked eyes with you, “and it isn’t you, Mel,” 

“Spare me,” She sighed, eating a cereal bar, “Has she broken your spirit yet?”

“Can’t break what I haven’t got,” You quipped, looking away from the older Medarda with burning cheeks. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” It was quiet, blink and you’d miss it, but Ambessa had definitely muttered that in your ear as she wandered through to answer a call from the decorators. 

Mel grinned, grabbing your hand, “We need to go and get ready, buy lunch out and get space before we’re swallowed whole by mum’s elitist world,”

You followed after her to the car, not having the heart to mention she was firmly one of those elitists herself. 

When you returned, nails and hair freshly styled upon Mel’s insistence, there was a red Bently in the drive. Your friend practically threw herself out of the car, hip bashing on the door as she ran inside. 

You were met with a tender reunion, brother and sister rambling over each other as Ambessa leaned against the doorframe with a grin, her eyes caught yours for a moment before she embraced her two children. 

Slipping away, you gave them their space as you rifled through your clothes and hung up your dress. It was pretty, it would suit you and it was now the nicest thing you owned. Guests would be arriving in an hour and you used the lull to enjoy your own thoughts, makeup applied with deft hands.

Knowing what you knew about your feelings, it would have been wise to prepare yourself for the sight of an even more fancy Ambessa. You didn’t and so naturally you nearly died. It simply wasn’t right, how ethereal she was. You licked your lips, heart smashing against your ribs as you came to rest at the entrance. Like a line of prize animals, Ambessa had lined up her children and it seemed from her waving hand, you were to participate in this presentation. Kino was all crinkles and kind laughs, instantly making him likeable. Somehow, he still stayed your third favourite Medarda, and it felt like a betrayal to debate who held the first spot whilst the daughter held your hand playfully and the mother’s eyes ran over your exposed legs. 

Bollocks. 

The greeting system felt archaic and yet entirely Medarda. This was the upper echelons and you were a pretty little ornament of the working class to be questioned and nodded at patronisingly. Ambessa had smiled in her swirling red wine several times at orange housewives’ pitying glances as you mentioned your plans to work after university. God forbid. It took an hour and a half for people to trickle in, all seemingly knowing your name as apparently it had been included in the hosts section of the invitation. Mel was best at schmoozing, leaving you and Kino to trade glances and giggle at each other. 

There was little to be done after that, with every Medarda’s attention divided as you floated in the background, having insanely good food and drinking enough to kill a horse. When the condescension became too much you retreated to the empty games room, finding an equally reclusive Mina. It seemed that today for whatever reason she was willing to tolerate you, stealing nibbles of your salt and vinegar crisps as you sat curled in the glow of the fairy lights. It was odd to rest in a beanbag that wasn’t lumpy and ripping at the seams, the leather supporting you perfectly 

“Enjoying the party?” Sweet silk asked, wrists melodic with bangles. 

“Yes Ambessa, of course,” You rushed out, “It really is marvellous,” 

“Don’t lie, child,” She says with a snort, joining you on an opposite beanbag, “They’re a bunch of shits and yet they give me lots of money, so here they sit rotting away the soul of my house every summer,” 

It felt rich coming from her and yet you nodded like you understood. Her hand moved in a sweeping arch, a thickly packed joint suddenly appearing in your eyeline. 

“Let’s make it more fun, shall we?” 

You laughed, loud and unbidden. You were going to smoke with Ambessa Medarda. There was no way in hell you would say no, whether it was a trap or not. An unnecessarily fancy gold lighter lit the end as she sucked it between those plump crimson lips, leaving a pretty ring for your own to rest upon. It felt seductive, how your lips caressed where hers had laid, your own tinging a slight pink as you passed it back and forth. 

This was some quality shit, even you knew that. It was easy to tell because it was blowing your fucking socks off. Everything swam in a pleasant buzz, as she murmured tale after stupid tale about the party’s attendees until you were howling with laughter, tears leaking out of your eyes. 

Ambessa liked you like this, unbidden and open as you basked in your amusement and relaxation. If she had known seeing you like this would be easy, she would have offered you drugs your first day. When she said as much, her tongue a little looser, you giggled again as you finished the joint. 

You were useless after that. She wore it better, all it did was make her calmer, tone more sultry. You were in awe of her, and Mina clearly didn’t care for your harsh tugs as you hung on her every word. 

Mel found you forty minutes later, higher than the empire state building with a plate piled high with goodies for you and Ambessa to share. 

“Fuck off,” Mel growled, eyes widening at her mother’s easy smile, “You’ve left me alone to host so you can soak my friend in drugs?”

“I soaked too, Mel, I’m not mad,” 

You giggled, half choking on a brioche stuffed with lobster. Mel silenced you as you inhaled an olive. 

“You could handle it, Dear,” Ambessa said affectionately, “You always were my little social butterfly,” 

“I thought I was a fox,” Mel snapped, “You look less like a wolf and more like a malfunctioning hyena,” 

That set you off again, your hand covered your mouth as your shoulders shook. This seemed to be the final straw for Ambessa as she fell into giggles too. 

“I-” A loud huff, “Damn you both, I hate you,” 

Mel stormed out, leaving you behind to recover from your mindless adventure. It took another hour, evening beginning to beckon, before you were coherent. 

“What a nice little break that was,” Ambessa said, body overly close to yours, “But dinner is looming and my daughter is unfortunately right, I must host,”

The rest of the party was spectacular in your eyes. Kino found you, half sobered up, and dragged you into beer pong with his friends. It was clear this was less approved by the hidden nature of the location, wrapped in the hedge mazes. That seemed a disaster, drunk kids in their twenties stuck in a maze, but it was so fun you hardly cared. Mel was looser too, her friend Jayce and Viktor had popped by, opening her up like a hesitant flower. 

“I hope Mum wasn’t awful,” Mel muttered as she cuddled into your side on a bench in the maze, “You seemed quite chummy,” 

“I-I know she isn’t always good to you, Mel,” You muttered, lust and infatuation receding slightly as you gazed at your friend, “I’m sorry if I upset you by hanging out with her,” 

Mel paused, flicking a leaf off her skirt as she snuggled deeper into you, “I’m quite glad actually, it’s made her more tolerable, and despite her faults, she can be fun” 

Your eyebrows rose, surprised at the admission. Their relationship was strained, but seemed in a drunken haze that was easier to process. 

Dinner, the actual sit down portion in the huge marquee, was exquisite. You were on the head table, nestled between Mel and Kino as everyone laughed. The amount of odd, worship dances that happened around Ambessa was unnerving, but her still relaxed shoulders made you snort. 

As the party continued and the sky was painted a deep red, Mel tugged you into an aggressive dance than had you toppling and rolling down the large hill, grass stains staining your clothes. 

What a great summer. Even if you did want to fuck her mum. Shut Up. 

The next morning you were less elated. You had no memory of getting into bed, though you were half in your covers with water on your bedside table. Whispers echoed, too far to reach, a tender kiss to your temple. 

The culprit was rather obvious once you stumbled into your bathroom with a yawn. Sharp, clear red lips rested against your skin as they had the joint, making your heart flutter. Hesitant fingers grazed it, matte colour coming off on your fingers as an echo refined in your memory.

“Sweet dreams, Pretty girl,”

You scrubbed it away reluctantly, stomach swimming. 

The entire grounds were pristine, cleaners having come in as people left in droves in the early morning. It was now late afternoon, the sun well past its warmth peak for the day as you forced down a salad and some bread. Health, greenery, water. These demands your body cried bitterly, who knew weed and wine was bad for you?

Mel and Kino were in a similar way, becoming one with the sofa as friends played bleakly on a screen that blew out the quality in a ridiculous way. You curled under Mel’s arm, yawning. 

“She lives,” Kino mutters, flicking your ear, “You did a backflip off the pong table, or at least tried to,” 

Mel started to laugh, nodding at your baffled expression, “Mum caught you and send us all to bed like naughty teenagers,” 

“Really?” 

“No,” Kino scoffed, “She called you a half brained twat and took you to bed,”

“Fantastic,” You groaned, there went your chances, not that they’d ever really existed, “Where is she? I need to apologise,” 

“Away, work trip for four days,” Mel nibbled against a pretzel, the salt soothing, “She said no parties whilst she’s gone, hypocrite,”

There was a party and your behaviour was infinitely worse, almost ridiculously so. 

Mel and Kino’s friends were eclectic, a mixture of posh and poor that mingled like oil and water yet it seemed to work. A blue and pink haired couple tried to eat each other’s faces as Kino did obnoxious tricks into the pool. Vile, candy flavoured vodka mixed with champagne blurred everyone’s vision as you suddenly felt like a reckless teenager. You’d never had this phase and now you were living it in a random manor house in the Surrey outskirts. 

Still, as the hours ticked by you missed her murmurs to Mina, your morning tea being prepared and her knowing, conspiring glances across at you. You missed the burn of your skin as she entered a room, her spiced and strong smell. You missed her. 

When Ambessa returned, she did not seem to suspect anything, weathered from business and silent throughout dinner. You tried to prompt some amusement, though all she gave you was an arched brow or eye roll. Though she joined in on movie night, she curled up alone on a chair with Mina, reading through documents as she went. 

Hours later, wrapped in Egyptian cotton, you felt restless. There was nothing to do but shake the energy out. Ambessa lingered in your thoughts. Perhaps she was angrier about your acrobatics attempts that you’d prepared for, or had grown bored of your overly sarcastic, childish antics. You yearned for her, crush firmly cemented like a rough pebble in your stomach, slamming down as a reminder with each movement you took. 

Your multifaceted hunger led you to the pretty kitchen, the whole house still as you tiptoed in. 

Or so you’d thought. 

Ambessa stood, swaying slightly with a glass of wine in her hand. She looked different like this, undone from nonsense as she fell away to reveal the sharp mind beneath. 

“Just going to stand there, little one?” 

You gulped, “I’m sorry to bother you,” 

“Now, when did I say that?”

“You didn’t,” You conceded with a nervous grin, “I just didn’t realise anyone was awake,” 

Her gaze fixed on you fully then, golden swirls captivating, “What did you need?”

“Food,” You blurt, “Was just going to grab some crisps or something,” 

She moved into motion at once, flickering on the hob light, “I’ll make you something,” 

You shook your head, stumbling platitudes about her kindness and your ability to sort something. 

“For god sake, girl,” She huffed, tone amused, “Let me do as I please in my own home,” 

That shut you up, her hips moving side to side as she assembled various things. The lull you had created did not last for long, she seemed far more talkative than hours earlier. 

“There is one thing I have yet to tell my children,” A spoon smashed against porcelain, “I had the house fitted with cameras just before you all came home,”

Cameras, that was a safe investment. You were honestly surprised she didn’t have them befor- The fucking party. 

Another nervous laugh leaked out, “I-I see,” 

“I’m not cross with you, Dear,” A glug of oil, a crunch of pepper, “Or them, really. I am not an idiot, though it did reaffirm one thing,” 

“What’s that?” Your heart was hammering into your lungs, making your voice oddly airy. 

“You haven’t got any common sense,” She snorted, sliding a glass of wine your way, “Backflipping off of my pingpong table and then swimming paralytic two days later,” 

You blushed, taking a small sip, as you nodded, “My mother used to say my head wasn’t on right,” 

Ambessa nodded, eyes taking on a dark glint as she turned back to the bowl of marinade, “Then do allow me to screw it back on for you,”

It felt weirdly erotic coming from her, your stomach tensing, your blood boiling. The pan was put away again. What the fuck was she making you?

She appeared in front of you, “Here, eat your food before it goes sour,” 

There was nothing in her hands, you didn’t understand. 

Her once bare lips now glistened slightly with spices, smirked fixed on her face, “Come along, wouldn’t want to upset your hostess when she’s gone to so much effort,”

Warm, firm lips met yours as you felt every sense turn into a white, blank nothingness. She’d offered herself as a meal and you ate like a woman starved. Each lick was salty and hot, her taste mingling with the chili oil until it was only her, blissfully her. Her hands were rough and assured, tugging open your shirt till all the buttons popped off. You needed her, all your worries melting against her tongue as she groped against your chest. 

“You just need some instruction,” Her ragged voice purred, “Someone to obey,” 

You felt yourself gush, eyes fluttering as you nodded pathetically against her. 

Ambessa’s tongue against your nipple had you mewling, body twitching as she shushed you. You didn’t want to be loud, lest she stop, but gods was it hard when she twirled your nipple over calloused fingers. She had you shivering, trembling and gasping within minutes, eyes glazed as your wildest sex fantasies were smashed down in rating by the real fucking deal. 

Her words were ambrosia, drenching you in joy as she called you some of the most disgusting things you’d heard perhaps ever. 

Being fucked against a kitchen island by your friend’s mum hadn’t been in your summer bucket list and yet here you were. Her fingers were wicked, ruining you as she suffocated your moans with her free palm. You had already leaked onto yourself and the floor, but it wasn’t enough for her. 

“Good girl, taking me so well,” She muttered, “You can’t resist it, can you? Slave to your own cunt,” 

Your reply made no sense, and she laughed against your neck, nibbling and lapping at the bead of sweat there. Your thoughts meant nothing, she was right, you were truly a slave to your physical self. By the time she had you squirting against her palm, you would have mindlessly walked over hot coals for her, cumming all the while. 

Her cunt, perfect and warm, crushed your face as she managed to sit atop you on the island. It was the sort of core memory you didn’t expect to make, your practiced tongue working in overdrive to please the goddess above you. 

Her whines and grunts were delicious, as was her dripping wetness, as she tugged your hair with a selfish, possessive vice grip. Her orgasm ripped through her, her back arching as you managed to twist her nipples in return for her earlier fondling, her eyes rolling. 

Slipping off of you with a grin, she tossed you a damp cloth and wiped herself down. 

“Sweet girl,” She slurred in your ear, placing a kiss there, “Knew you’d been a fun toy,” 

It would have made your cunt flutter, it would have forced you into a passionate and sweaty round two as you lose your mind to pleasure again, if it weren’t for the fact that you actually sort of really, very seriously liked it. 

But you? You were just a long line of sweet little fucks and you’d betrayed her daughter to join the notch on her bedpost. 

Fucked. Doomed. Shattered.

[no-144444]

Hello!!! First of all, I love your writings♡ Second of all, May I please request a fanfic of Paul Aron with reader who's like bestfriends with his sister and reader is like unsure of how to feel about Paul's crush on her cause yk hes got a bit of playboy vibes to him, but Paul's actually in love with her and can it lead to eventual smut?

I'll give you my first born for this fic 🙏💗

playboy- p.aron

summary: you've been weary about paul and his advances, a confrontation changes everything.

pairing: paul aron x reader

a/n: no need to give me your first born :)

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“Looking good, Y/n,” Paul winked at you. He was one smug bastard. 

You rolled your eyes, not giving him the time of day (for once), and his smirk dropped. 

“Getting sick of me?” he mused. 

“I’ve been sick of you for a while Paul, you just didn’t care before,” you scoffed. You weren’t sick of Paul, you never would be. You’d been… weary of his advances for years. Paul had more than a reputation. He was known for hooking up with girls and discarding them, the typical playboy you had avoided your whole life. You were getting a bit annoyed with the fact that he was still trying to get with you, even though you were his little sisters’ best friend, someone who wouldn’t leave his life if you two broke up. The worst part? You’d overheard him speaking with one of his friends. He was talking about what he wanted with you. 

“She’s so hot, you don’t understand. I’d do anything to get with her.”

And what else were you supposed to think? There’s no way he actually liked you for you, just for your body. 

He frowned. This wasn’t you. He was used to playful banter and flirty smiles. He was used to ending up with either a headache or heartache from being around you all night (usually heartache when he saw you going off with some other guy). He liked it that way. He liked that he had your attention, even when you didn’t want to give it to him. He liked that he annoyed you. A negative emotion is emotion all the same, and it meant you cared. He cared a lot. He wanted you, more than anyone, he wanted you. 

He grabbed your arm, holding you back from walking on with the group. “What’s up with you?” 

You pushed him off, trying to walk on, but he got a grip on your waist this time, and he was holding on tight. “What do you mean?” you asked. 

“You won’t talk to me, you barely look at me, and you’ve been in a mood all night,” he listed. “What’s wrong?”

“You should stop flirting with me,” you told him. “Some people aren’t into being used for sex and then discarded. Go find your casual hook-up with someone else-”

“Stop, what do you mean?” he questioned. 

“I heard you talking with Ollie. A-about me.”

His face drained of colour. “So then… you heard.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. 

“And you don’t feel the same?”

You stared at him for a moment. “What do you mean?”

He stared back, equally confused. “What? You heard me saying what I said, yes?”

“I didn’t hear everything-” you admitted. He slapped a hand over his face. 

“Y/n I was telling them I was in love with you, that’s what I was doing!” he stressed. “And if you don’t feel the same that’s alright, I just-”

You stopped him, actually clapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Ouch,” he said, muffled. You ripped your hands off of him, apologies falling from your lips, he chuckled and took your hands, putting them by your sides, and wrapping his hands around your waist. “I’m fine,” he told you. “I-”

“I li-love-like you too!” you blurted out. He chuckled and gently pressed his lips to yours. It felt… right. He was soft and gentle, but there was no doubt in your mind that he wanted you. You pulled back. “This is a relationship, right?”

He nodded. 

“So no more flirting with random girls we meet, yeah?”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I only did that to get your attention.”

You rolled your eyes. “Such an idiot.” “Your idiot,” he smirked.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[elikajinnie]

You Are My Sunshine - K.S

P: Hufflepuff!Sunoo X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minor Bullying? Fluff, Confessions, Minor Angst.

Synopsis: You were known as the grumpy, closed-off student at Hogwarts, keeping your emotions tightly guarded. That is, until Kim Sunoo, the ever-cheerful Hufflepuff, took it upon himself to brighten your days. With his infectious laughter and unwavering optimism seep into your life, you slowly realize that the warmth of his sunshine is quickly melting away your defenses.

a/n: sorry babes and pooks, this one is kinda short? exams are coming up and i only have a sliver of moment in the commute to and from school to write :) but hope everyone had a nice halloween! (anyone got an idea for Heeseungs slytherin fic?? Im brainstorming over here >:(

masterlist

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You swore you were a nice person. It might not look like it, though—your face and demeanor often gave the opposite impression. You weren’t cold, but you had always been reserved, choosing to keep to yourself more often than not. Because of that, when you first arrived at Hogwarts, you didn’t exactly collect friends the way others seemed to. Only a select few ever got to see how friendly you actually were, but that was only after you decided you could trust them.

So, it came as a surprise—a big surprise—when one afternoon, while you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, deeply immersed in your studies, someone pulled out a chair and sat down right beside you.

Glancing up, you immediately recognized him. Kim Sunoo, the ever-smiling, ever-popular Hufflepuff. His presence was unmistakable, bright as day. His grin was practically beaming, and it momentarily threw you off balance. You blinked, wondering if he had the wrong table.

"Hey!" he greeted, voice light and full of energy. "Mind if I sit here?"

You stared at him blankly, unsure if he was serious or just passing by. He had already sat down, so you didn’t see much point in objecting. After a beat of silence, you returned your attention to the parchment in front of you, figuring the conversation might end there.

It didn’t.

"I’ve seen you around," he continued, undeterred by your lack of response. "You’re really focused when you’re working, huh? Must be nice to be that dedicated. I always get distracted in the library."

Your eyes flicked over to him, giving a small nod but saying nothing. You weren’t used to this—the friendliness so freely given, the casual conversation with someone you barely knew. Your face remained impassive, though inwardly, you were trying to piece together why he of all people was sitting with you. Surely, he had plenty of other, more sociable people to talk to.

Sunoo, however, didn’t seem to mind your quietness. In fact, he just kept going. "I’m terrible at Potions," he admitted with a sheepish laugh. "Professor Snape probably thinks I’m hopeless. I bet you’re good at it, though. You’ve got that… I dunno, that calm, focused vibe."

You couldn’t help but frown a little at that. "Calm, focused vibe?" you echoed, your tone flat.

He grinned even wider, his eyes almost disappearing into crescent moons. "Yeah! You just seem really composed all the time. It’s cool. I get stressed and panicky over every little thing."

"I wouldn’t say I’m always calm," you replied, voice as even as your expression.

Sunoo’s smile didn’t waver. If anything, he looked more pleased that you were finally talking. "See? Even when you’re denying it, you’re calm," he teased, clearly enjoying himself. "You’re like the opposite of me."

You stared at him for a moment, wondering how anyone could be so upbeat all the time. Sunoo’s energy was infectious, even if your face didn’t show it. Still, your brows furrowed slightly as you watched him speak, trying to make sense of why this popular Hufflepuff was suddenly so interested in chatting with you.

"I don’t usually talk much," you pointed out, your tone neutral.

"I noticed," Sunoo replied without missing a beat, completely unfazed. "But I think that’s fine. You don’t need to say a lot to be interesting."

You blinked again, your expression still not giving away the faint surprise you felt at his words. You had expected him to lose interest by now, to move on to someone who would match his energy and conversation style, but he stayed right where he was, grinning like he had just made the best discovery of the day.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there, him smiling, you with your usual stoic expression, and yet, for some reason, it didn’t feel awkward. It was as if Sunoo’s bright presence was enough to fill any potential silence.

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. "Why are you talking to me?"

His laughter was soft, but genuine. "Why not? You seem interesting."

"I don’t really come across that way," you said, voice deadpan.

Sunoo shrugged, still smiling. "You do to me."

And with that, he leaned back in his chair, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to sit there, in complete contrast to your serious demeanor, radiating warmth and light like a small sun.

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

During your next Potions class, you settled into your usual spot toward the back, where the dim light made it easier to focus without distractions. You liked this spot. It was quiet, and you could concentrate without anyone poking their nose into your work. But just as you began setting up your ingredients, you heard a familiar, cheerful voice.

"Mind if I join you?"

You glanced up, almost certain you had imagined it, only to find Kim Sunoo grinning down at you. His presence was the last thing you expected in this class. He was known for sitting up front, surrounded by his usual group, always cracking jokes and flashing that bright smile.

Sunoo slid into the seat beside you before you could respond, giving you an easy, friendly smile as he began organizing his ingredients. "I thought maybe if I sat by you, Professor Snape might be a little more… forgiving?" he whispered, his tone hopeful.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Why would he be?"

"Well," he said, leaning in slightly as if sharing a great secret, "he likes you. Haven't you noticed? He doesn’t scowl as much when you’re around. I figured maybe I could absorb some of your calm, composed energy," he added, making an exaggerated face of concentration as if he were already channeling your stoic look.

You couldn’t help but let a small, amused huff escape. “If that’s your plan, I wouldn’t count on it working.”

Sunoo smiled wider, undeterred. "Worth a shot, right?"

As if on cue, Snape swept into the classroom, his dark robes billowing behind him. His eyes scanned the room with that usual, critical glint before landing on you and Sunoo. He paused, visibly surprised to see the two of you sitting together, but instead of saying anything, he gave a curt nod and moved on, barking instructions for today’s lesson.

You gave Sunoo a sidelong glance as he visibly relaxed. “See? I think it’s working already,” he whispered, giving you a thumbs-up under the table. “He didn’t even glare!”

You rolled your eyes. "He didn't glare because he’s focused on starting class. Don't think you're off the hook."

Sunoo just shrugged, a bit of humor still glinting in his eyes. “I don’t mind. Besides, you’re probably good at Potions, right? You could even help me. Professor Snape can’t get mad if you’re the one teaching me, right?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works. But sure… as long as you don’t blow anything up.”

Sunoo grinned again, nudging you playfully with his elbow. "Deal."

As the lesson began, you quickly noticed that Sunoo seemed determined to keep up, his usual playful energy tempered as he looked over his cauldron with an unexpected intensity. It was strange to see him so focused, but oddly gratifying, knowing he was genuinely trying.

"Okay," you whispered, leaning over to show him your carefully arranged ingredients. "For this Draught of Peace, every step has to be precise. Start by adding the powdered moonstone, but remember to stir counterclockwise three times after each pinch."

Sunoo glanced at you, his face serious as he nodded. "Three times, counterclockwise. Got it." He leaned forward, following your lead and adding the powder in controlled amounts. His usual talkative nature was nowhere to be seen, replaced by an almost endearing determination to get it right.

When he looked back at you for the next step, you raised an eyebrow, testing him. "What’s next, then?”

He bit his lip, thinking hard. "Uh, lacewing flies… right? Only one… no, two wings, torn lengthwise?"

"Not bad," you said, impressed. “See? You’re actually getting it."

He smiled sheepishly, keeping his eyes on his work as he carefully placed the ingredients in the cauldron. "Only because you’re explaining it in a way that makes sense," he admitted, glancing at you. "Potions books make it sound way too complicated."

You had to admit, seeing him genuinely engaged in learning something he found difficult felt surprisingly rewarding. “It’s only complicated if you rush,” you explained, “so take your time with this part. And make sure to add a clockwise stir after each wing.”

He mirrored your movements, handling each step as carefully as he could manage, clearly hanging onto each of your instructions. When he managed to mix everything without a hitch, he turned to you, his face beaming. “Look, it’s actually working. It’s not grey!”

You gave him an approving nod. “See? As long as you follow the instructions and stay focused, you’re fine.”

"Well, when you put it like that, it’s not so scary," he murmured, watching as the liquid turned a gentle blue.

"Now, simmer it for ten minutes," you said, leaning back in your chair. "And keep an eye on the bubbles—they should stay small and steady."

He sighed in relief, clearly grateful for the help. "You have no idea how much easier that makes things."

When you caught his eye, he grinned. "If I sit next to you every Potions class, you won’t mind, right?"

You paused at his question, thrown off by how quickly he’d asked it. Sunoo had a way of being open and friendly with everyone, but this… well, this felt different. You weren’t sure what he was really after, and his sudden interest in sitting with you felt almost too friendly.

So, you just shrugged, keeping your face neutral. “If you want to,” you replied, glancing back at your own cauldron.

Sunoo watched you for a moment, seeming to notice your hesitation. But instead of getting discouraged, he just gave a small laugh, scratching the back of his head. “You don’t mind, right? I mean… you’re not gonna hex me or anything?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but his teasing smirk showed he was only joking. “No,” you said, “Not unless you mess up the potion.”

He chuckled, apparently finding your reaction funny. "Alright, noted," he replied, nudging his cauldron carefully as he checked the simmering liquid. “Guess I’ll have to be on my best behavior then.”

For the rest of class, he kept close by your side, following each instruction you gave him with an unusual attentiveness. He even managed to complete the potion almost perfectly. When Snape passed by, he raised an eyebrow at Sunoo’s work but said nothing, which was the highest praise he could give.

As you cleaned up at the end of class, Sunoo packed his things slowly, glancing over at you. “Thanks for the help,” he said, smiling warmly. “Not sure I could’ve done that without you.”

You simply nodded, unsure of what to say, but he seemed content with the small gesture. As he turned to leave, he glanced back one more time. “See you next class?”

“Yeah… sure,” you replied, giving a half-shrug.

As he left, you couldn’t help but feel a little curious. Sunoo’s interest in sitting with you still felt unexpected.

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

Days turned into weeks, and Sunoo became a near-constant presence by your side. Whether it was Potions, lunch in the Great Hall, or even the occasional study session in the library, he always seemed to find his way over to you, plopping down with that familiar grin and easy energy that contrasted so starkly with your laid-back demeanor.

At first, you thought maybe he’d get bored, or that your lack of enthusiasm might wear him down. But Sunoo was nothing if not persistent. No matter how often you shrugged at his questions or gave him short, deadpan responses, he just laughed it off, acting as though he’d known you forever. And even though you never rejected his company outright, you never really encouraged it either. Not that Sunoo seemed to care.

One afternoon, you found yourself in the library, a familiar routine now: books spread out, your head bent over an assignment you were half-heartedly working on. The sound of footsteps made you glance up, and sure enough, there he was—Sunoo, grinning, holding two mugs of butterbeer from the kitchens.

“Thought you could use one,” he said, sliding it across the table to you.

You gave a halfhearted sigh, accepting it anyway. “You know, you don’t have to keep showing up like this. Don’t you have other friends?”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Sure, but I like hanging out with you. Plus, you’re surprisingly easy to talk to, you know?”

“Is that right,” you said, taking a sip of the butterbeer, trying to keep your face neutral. “And here I thought I was terrible company.”

“Hardly,” he replied with a grin, leaning in like he was letting you in on a secret. “I think you’re interesting, even if you act like you don’t care. And… I think you like my company, too.”

You huffed, looking away. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

He laughed, “Alright, alright. I’ll leave it at that. But you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

You hid a smile behind your hand, feeling an unexpected warmth from his words.

As days passed, Sunoo continued to be your constant shadow, sticking to you like he belonged there. Whenever he leaned in close to explain something exciting or nudged your shoulder to get your attention, you didn’t push him away. Not even a grumble. And soon enough, people began to notice—whispers trailing behind the two of you whenever you entered a room together.

"Are they really that close now?" someone muttered one afternoon in the library, eyeing the way Sunoo leaned over to show you a funny illustration in his book.

"They’re, like… polar opposites," another whispered, watching you with open curiosity, clearly baffled at how you, the reserved one with a permanent poker face, had Sunoo—the endlessly friendly, sunny Hufflepuff—so close.

The attention might have bothered you once, but Sunoo’s influence seemed to have rubbed off on you. You were a little more relaxed, even when people stared or asked questions. Sunoo’s laughter or his quick jokes were enough to break the awkwardness you might’ve once felt, and strangely enough, you’d even found yourself talking to more people—not necessarily by choice, but because he kept introducing you to others.

One evening, you were sitting in the library with one of your closer friends. They’d known you for years and were one of the few who really understood you. As Sunoo wandered over to grab a book from the shelves nearby, your friend leaned in with a small smile.

“You know, it’s funny,” they said quietly, eyeing you with amusement. “You and Sunoo… you balance each other out. Like, he brings you out of your comfort zone with all these people and conversations, and you, well… you help him calm down and focus more.”

You raised an eyebrow, a bit skeptical. “Sunoo? Focused?”

Your friend chuckled. “More than you’d think. Have you noticed how much more serious he’s been in Potions lately? And he actually sits through an entire library study session without talking your ear off.”

You shrugged, not wanting to admit just how true it was. “Maybe he’s just getting better at Potions.”

“Sure,” they replied, giving you a knowing look. “And maybe you’re just getting more social.”

You huffed, looking away to hide a small, reluctant smile. It was true that Sunoo had brought a new energy to your life, and whether you liked it or not, you’d changed a little since he’d attached himself to you. You actually found yourself looking forward to his presence. He made things… lighter.

Just then, Sunoo bounded over, oblivious to the conversation you’d been having. He plopped down beside you, smiling as usual. “Hey! Did you know they added a new dessert in the kitchens? We have to go try it later!”

Your friend shot you a look, clearly delighted by the way you barely rolled your eyes before nodding. “Fine,” you replied. “But you’re bringing it back here. I’m not going all the way to the kitchens.”

Sunoo’s smile only grew. “Deal. You’re finally starting to admit you like spending time with me, huh?”

You scoffed, looking away to hide the faint warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Don’t push it.”

But the truth was undeniable, and both your friend and Sunoo could see it: somehow, the two of you had found a balance.

It didn’t take long for you to realize just how well Sunoo had come to understand you. He could somehow sense when your patience was wearing thin, when you’d been around people for too long and needed to be left alone. Whenever he picked up on your waning energy, he would offer you a small, knowing smile, give you a light squeeze on the shoulder, and let you be. No questions asked, no lingering around to wait you out—he just knew.

And maybe, in some way, you’d learned to pick up on his cues, too. Sunoo, who was normally all bright smiles and endless chatter, had quiet days—moments when his laughter would be softer, his eyes a little distant, his usual warmth feeling dimmed. At first, you didn’t know what to make of it, but eventually, you realized what he needed. So, whenever he’d get that faraway look, you’d make an extra effort to bring a bit of lightness back into his world.

Like the time you found him sitting by the lake, lost in thought as he absently trailed his fingers through the water. Without a word, you’d sat beside him and started retelling one of Snape’s more ridiculous lectures with a deadpan voice, mimicking Snape’s mannerisms in a way that finally drew a soft, genuine laugh from Sunoo.

“You’re pretty funny when you want to be,” he had said, nudging your shoulder as his smile returned.

“Just don’t get used to it,” you replied, but you couldn’t stop the small smile from creeping onto your face.

And it did go both ways. Sometimes you’d notice his plate looking a little too empty at dinner, and without a word, you’d sneak extra food onto it, nudging it his way until he ate. On the mornings he’d wander into class looking groggy and starving from skipping breakfast, you’d casually slide a piece of toast or a muffin over to him without drawing any attention, not even acknowledging it as he glanced at you in surprise, a grateful look in his eyes.

Once, he’d shown up in the library just before lunch, clearly worn down from a long morning of classes. His face lit up as he saw you, but before he could say anything, you pulled a sandwich from your bag and held it out to him, rolling your eyes as he grinned.

“Eat,” you ordered, trying not to smile at the way he accepted it.

“You’re seriously the best,” he said between bites, eyes shining with gratitude.

You shrugged, not making a big deal of it. “Just don’t skip meals.”

As much as Sunoo’s constant presence had once felt overwhelming, you couldn’t deny how natural it had become. He was someone you didn’t mind looking after, just as he looked after you in his own way. And even though you still hadn’t outright admitted how much he’d come to mean to you, you knew he could feel it.

After all, Sunoo seemed to understand you better than you’d ever expected.

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

On a Thursday, right as you and Sunoo were walking down the hall from Potions, laughing quietly about some ridiculous mistake he’d made when a group of students passed by, whispering just loud enough for you to hear.

“Can’t believe those two are always together,” one of them sneered, glancing your way. “I don’t get what Sunoo sees in someone so… cold.”

“Yeah, must be a pity friendship,” another scoffed. “Who’d actually choose to hang around someone like that?”

The words hit you harder than you’d like to admit. You clenched your fists, feeling your cheeks grow hot with anger. Before you knew it, you were turning toward them, words already forming on your tongue.

But then, you felt a soft tug on your arm—Sunoo, pulling you back. His expression was a mix of concern and pleading, his hand gripping yours tightly.

“Don’t,” he whispered urgently, shaking his head. “They’re not worth it. Just… let it go, okay?”

But their words kept echoing in your mind, growing louder, and something about the way they’d insulted not only you but Sunoo too, made your blood boil. You could see how Sunoo was trying to brush it off, but the hurt flashed briefly in his eyes, even if he was trying to hide it.

“No,” you said firmly, ignoring his hold as you spun back around, voice sharp as you yelled after them. “Got something to say? How about you say it to our faces instead of acting like cowards?”

The group turned, surprised by your outburst, and you could see them tense, unprepared for confrontation. They exchanged uneasy looks before one of them, bolder than the others, sneered. “We’re just saying what everyone else is thinking.”

“Then let me make one thing clear,” you shot back, holding their gaze with an intensity that made them falter. “Sunoo is a hundred times the person any of you will ever be. So maybe you’re the ones who should keep quiet.”

They shifted, looking caught off guard. When they finally muttered a weak insult under their breath and walked off, you turned back to Sunoo, your anger still simmering.

Sunoo was watching you, eyes wide, a mixture of shock and something else—something soft and grateful—shining in his expression. He let out a breath, chuckling as he shook his head. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

You shrugged, still fuming, but now a little embarrassed at how strongly you’d reacted. “They don’t get to talk about us like that.”

Sunoo’s smile widened, and he squeezed your hand, which you’d forgotten he was still holding, looking at you with a warmth that seemed to melt away the remnants of your anger.

The hallway felt strangely empty around you, and though you didn’t say anything, the look you gave him said everything you couldn’t put into words.

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

You and Sunoo became a regular sight around Hogwarts: you, with your usual deadpan expression and arms crossed, and Sunoo practically glowing with happiness beside you. Wherever he went, you seemed to follow, trailing a few paces behind with that ever-present poker face, while he chatted, laughed, and animatedly waved to anyone who passed.

There were days when Sunoo would drag you into random "adventures" across the castle, whether it was sneaking into the kitchens to grab snacks or daring you to climb one of the tall staircases to see if you could spot your common room window.

Like that time he convinced you to join him on an impromptu “mission” to see if the Fat Friar really could pass through walls from the sixth-floor corridor to the third-floor hallway. Somehow, he managed to get you to run after the ghost with him, dodging curious glances from students and teachers alike. Sunoo had laughed himself silly when you reached the third floor out of breath, pointing out the tiny, genuine grin that slipped onto your face as he panted beside you.

"Look, they’re smiling!" someone had gasped, and Sunoo turned with a proud grin, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “See? You just needed a little fun.”

You promptly rolled your eyes, but you didn't shrug him off. “I don’t know if chasing ghosts counts as fun,” you muttered, though the corner of your mouth betrayed you with the smallest smirk.

Then, there was the time Sunoo found out you’d never tried a Sugar Quill and insisted on “fixing this tragedy.” He dragged you down to Hogsmeade, where he bought you not one but two Sugar Quills, then made a show of pulling a face as he pretended to judge your expression with every lick. Even though you mostly kept your deadpan look, he saw right through you, laughing as you admitted they were “better than expected.”

“Wait, was that a compliment?” he teased, eyes wide in mock surprise.

You rolled your eyes, biting the end of the quill. “Don’t get used to it.”

But the most notable reactions always came during the quieter moments—the times Sunoo would ramble on about something, and you’d listen quietly, only to get caught off-guard by his laugh or one of his jokes, and let a smile slip. Whenever someone noticed, they’d gape in shock, like they’d just seen something truly unbelievable.

Like when you two were sitting by the Black Lake, and Sunoo was telling some ridiculous story about how he once tried to turn the Great Hall’s chandelier into a disco ball for a party idea (though, predictably, he’d been caught). You tried to hold it in, but a soft chuckle slipped out anyway. One nearby student stared so openly that Sunoo caught it too, and immediately grinned, elbowing you.

“See? People can’t believe their eyes. They probably think you’re a statue brought to life,” he teased, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

You gave him a flat look, but the tiny smile wouldn’t leave your face. “Maybe it’s you who’s bringing me to life,” you replied dryly, just to see him blush.

The two of you were a study in contrasts—your stoic, steady presence beside Sunoo’s unstoppable, bubbly energy. But somehow, people started catching those small, fleeting moments when you softened around him, when he made you smile in spite of yourself. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you liked that he was the one who could bring that out in you.

Life with Sunoo by your side continued to be an endless series of unexpected twists, each one gradually chipping away at your grumpy exterior. He had this strange ability to draw out parts of you that you’d long kept hidden, surprising even yourself in the process. And, somehow, you didn’t mind it as much as you thought you would.

One afternoon, Sunoo decided it was "absolutely necessary" to take you to the Owlery to see a particular baby owl he’d become fond of. “You’ll love it, I swear,” he insisted, dragging you up the steps. And despite your half-hearted grumbles about climbing “unnecessary stairs,” you found yourself actually smiling when the little owl pecked his hand affectionately. When Sunoo turned and caught the tiny smile on your face, he gasped dramatically.

“Stop the press!” he said loudly enough to echo through the Owlery. “They do have a heart!”

“Careful, or I’ll stop coming along to your ridiculous little outings,” you muttered, though the hint of amusement in your voice was hard to ignore.

“Oh, please,” Sunoo scoffed, looping an arm through yours as you both made your way back down. “You love every second of my company.”

You didn’t answer, but your silence was all the confirmation he needed.

Another time, during a Transfiguration lesson, you found yourself paired with Sunoo for a particularly tricky assignment. Sunoo, naturally, was struggling to concentrate, his wand movements lazy and absent-minded as he kept nudging you with random observations. “Did you know Professor McGonagall has a favorite cat?” he whispered, eyes wide.

“Focus,” you deadpanned, though the corners of your mouth twitched as you tried to stifle a smile.

Seeing your reaction, he grinned, adjusting his stance and mirroring your serious expression in an exaggerated way. “Like this?” he asked, mimicking your look perfectly.

You couldn’t hold it in this time—a small, genuine laugh escaped you, shocking the students around you. Even McGonagall raised an eyebrow, glancing over her spectacles. “Good to see you finding joy in Transfiguration, for once,” she said with a rare smile.

When class ended, Sunoo was practically beaming. “See? I’m finally getting you to open up,” he said, walking beside you with that familiar, almost blinding smile.

“Don’t push your luck,” you warned, but he only laughed, knowing you didn’t really mean it.

And every now and then, you’d catch students around the castle gawking when Sunoo would lean in close, pointing out something funny on a page or whispering a joke that would make your stone-cold demeanor soften for just a second. They couldn’t believe it, seeing you actually smiling or laughing in response to his antics.

One evening in the library, you were finishing up some homework while Sunoo sat beside you, absently doodling on parchment. He glanced over at you, tapping his quill on the desk.

“So,” he started, a little softer this time, “when did I officially become your friend?”

You didn’t look up, but your lips tugged upward slightly. “Guess it was the day you decided not to leave me alone,” you replied.

Sunoo grinned, leaning his head against your shoulder with a sigh. “Good thing I’m stubborn.”

You didn’t answer, but you didn’t move away, either. In fact, the small smile you wore spoke more than words ever could.

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

One quiet afternoon, you and Sunoo found yourselves sitting by the Black Lake. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the water, and for once, there were no interruptions, no curious glances from other students. It was just the two of you, enjoying the peace and each other's company.

Sunoo had been unusually silent for a while, lost in thought as he skipped stones across the lake. Finally, he turned to you, his expression more serious than usual. “Hey,” he began softly, “can I ask you something?”

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Sure, what’s up?”

He hesitated, biting his lip before speaking again. “Why don’t you smile much around people? I mean, you smile a lot when it’s just us, but with others… it’s like you shut down.”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. You stared out at the water, watching the ripples dance across the surface as you gathered your thoughts. Finally, you sighed, deciding to share a piece of your past that you rarely talked about.

“It’s not that I don’t want to smile,” you began slowly, choosing your words carefully. “I thought I had people I could rely on,” you continued, still keeping your gaze down, staring at the grass as though it held all the answers. “But things changed. They either weren’t there when I needed them most, or…” You trailed off, not quite able to voice the ways people had let you down. “It’s like they didn’t care as much as I thought they did. I felt stupid for ever trusting them.”

Your voice was barely a whisper by the end, but you forced yourself to keep going, feeling the weight of your words start to lighten as you let them out. “After that, I just… learned to be careful. I figured if I didn’t let people in, they couldn’t hurt me. So I stopped smiling so much. I thought maybe if I looked… unapproachable, people would keep their distance. And for the most part, they did.”

Sunoo gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said quietly, his voice laced with genuine empathy. “People can be selfish, and sometimes they don’t realize how their actions affect others. But I hope you know not everyone is like that.”

A lump formed in your throat at his words, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard. “I know,” you replied, though your voice shook slightly. “It’s just hard to remember that sometimes. I didn’t want to risk getting hurt again, so… shutting people out seemed like the safest option.”

Sunoo shifted a little closer, his warmth a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone. “You know,” he began, voice gentle, “I had my own fair share of people who weren’t exactly the best, too. It hurt, and yeah, I thought about closing myself off sometimes. But then I thought, what if I missed out on someone who really could be a good friend?”

You looked over at him, catching the soft vulnerability in his eyes. “I guess that’s why you’re so… friendly,” you said, almost teasing but more thoughtful than anything. “You don’t want to miss out on the good people out there.”

He smiled, nodding. “Exactly. And… I knew you were different, you know. Even if you didn’t smile much, even if you looked like you’d rather be anywhere else than around people, I could just tell. That there was more to you. And look,” he added with a grin, “I was right.”

A laugh slipped out before you could stop it, a genuine one, and you shook your head at his optimism. “Guess you were,” you admitted, a little sheepishly. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you putting up with me, though.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours. “I knew there was something worth sticking around for. Even if you tried to hide it.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and you couldn’t help but feel a small surge of warmth. Sunoo hadn’t just pushed past your walls; he’d done it so gently, with such patience, that you hardly realized when you’d stopped trying to keep him out.

“Thanks for… sticking around,” you said, voice quiet, the sincerity in your words a stark contrast to your usual deadpan tone.

“Anytime,” he replied, a soft smile playing at his lips as he looked out at the lake. Then, after a beat, he added, “Besides, I like having someone around who gets me. You know how I can get lost in my own thoughts sometimes. You’re always there to pull me back.”

You both shared a comfortable silence, the kind you could only have with someone who truly understood you. After a while, you finally spoke again. “I guess I kind of forgot how nice it feels to let someone in.”

Sunoo nodded, a content smile on his face. “I’m glad you trusted me with that,” he said softly. “And… I hope you know I’ll never do anything to hurt you. Promise.”

You turned to him, meeting his gaze, and for once, you let down every wall and allowed yourself to believe him. “I believe you.”

He grinned, looking both relieved and happy. “Good. Because I plan on being around for a long time, whether you like it or not.”

Rolling your eyes, you felt the small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips once again. But this time, you didn’t fight it. “Guess I don’t really have a choice, huh?”

“Nope,” he replied cheerfully, leaning his head against your shoulder with a sigh. “I’m a very stubborn person, you know.”

Sunoo’s smile was soft and reassuring, his eyes shining.“I promise, I’ll never do anything to hurt you. You’re stuck with me now, whether you like it or not.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, a genuine smile breaking through your usual guarded expression. “I guess I can live with that.”

Sunoo grinned, leaning in a bit closer. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

☀︎⋆｡°·☁︎

You couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment it happened, the gradual shift from seeing Sunoo as just that kind, bubbly Hufflepuff who wouldn’t leave you alone, to… this. Somewhere in the days spent with him at your side, with his laugh brightening even your most tired moments, Sunoo had become more than just a friend.

It hit you unexpectedly one day, as you leaned against a stone wall in the courtyard, watching from afar while he chatted with a group of other students. He was laughing, the sound rich and clear as he threw his head back, eyes crinkling in a way that made him look almost ethereal. His presence lit up the entire courtyard, as if he were some rare creature, something precious that didn’t quite belong to the harshness of the real world.

For a second, you wondered how someone like him—so pure, so effortlessly kind and happy—had come to talk to you, much less stick around. And as the thought lingered, you felt an ache in your chest you hadn’t expected. Because no matter how close you’d gotten, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Sunoo was somehow beyond your reach.

He caught sight of you then, his gaze shifting from the others to land directly on you, and his face lit up even more, a broad grin spreading across his features. You blinked, feeling warmth bloom inside you as he broke away from the group, jogging over to where you stood.

“You just standing there, brooding?” he teased, his eyes glinting with playful mischief as he nudged your shoulder.

You huffed, trying to shake off the thought that had just been consuming you. “Maybe. Someone’s gotta keep the aesthetic,” you muttered, lips curling in a faint smirk.

But as he laughed, the sound tugging at something deep inside you, you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever see you the way you were beginning to see him. If he’d ever feel that same tug of warmth and longing when he looked at you.

“What?” Sunoo asked, tilting his head when he noticed you staring.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, looking away to hide the hint of pink creeping up your cheeks.

The days turned into weeks, and while Sunoo’s cheerful presence continued to brighten your life, you found yourself slipping back into familiar habits. Each time you spotted him surrounded by large groups of people, laughing and joking with ease, an unsettling fear began to take root in your chest. You pulled away, convinced that you would inevitably reveal too much—your feelings for him slipping through the cracks, leaving you vulnerable in front of everyone.

It wasn’t that you wanted to distance yourself from Sunoo; rather, it was the overwhelming dread of accidentally exposing your heart that made you withdraw. You’d sit on the sidelines, pretending to be absorbed in your own conversations or buried in a book, watching him from afar with a mix of longing and anxiety. Each time he glanced your way, a bolt of panic shot through you, and you’d quickly look away, heart racing at the thought of what he might see in your eyes.

You told yourself it was fine, that you needed space—that it was safer to watch him from afar, to keep things simple and keep your feelings hidden.

But that was easier said than done. Every time he’d glance over with that bright, hopeful smile, a pang of guilt and longing would settle in your chest. You’d nod in acknowledgment, force a small wave, and then slip away, heart hammering as you went.

And of course, Sunoo noticed.

One evening, when you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, a familiar figure appeared beside you. Sunoo slid into the seat, watching you with a curious, slightly hurt expression. "You’re avoiding me," he said softly, cutting right to the point.

You didn’t look up, keeping your focus on the parchment in front of you, hoping he wouldn’t press. “No, I’m just… busy. Lots of work,” you mumbled, hoping that would satisfy him.

“Really?” he asked, his voice edged with disbelief. “Because you used to tell me when things were bothering you. Now, it’s like… like I don’t even know what’s going on with you.” His tone was tinged with hurt, and you felt it like a weight in your chest.

“I’m fine, Sunoo. Really,” you replied with a weak shrug, not daring to meet his eyes. You knew if you did, he’d see right through you.

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Don’t do that,” he pleaded, his voice wavering. “Don’t push me away. I thought… I thought we’d built something together, you know? Something real. I want to be there for you, but you have to let me in.”

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart pound painfully. “It’s just… it’s complicated.”

He leaned closer, his voice filled with an unfamiliar urgency. “Then let me in on the ‘complicated.’ I don’t want you to hide from me. Please, talk to me.”

You clenched your jaw, still not meeting his gaze. You could feel his intensity, his genuine care, and it tore you up inside. “Sunoo, just… drop it,” you said, voice quieter than you intended.

But he didn’t drop it. “Why won’t you just be real with me?” he nearly begged, his tone raw and vulnerable. “I hate seeing you shut yourself off like this. I hate that you’re just… disappearing. It’s like I’m losing you, and I don’t understand why. I thought we were closer than this.”

A pang of frustration bubbled up. He didn’t understand because you’d kept him in the dark, because you were afraid he’d never feel the same way. You had no right to be upset, but it hurt too much to bear alone any longer.

“Because, Sunoo!” you said, your voice rising. “Because I… I have feelings for you, alright?”

As soon as the words were out, your hand flew to your mouth in shock, eyes widening at what you’d just revealed. You stared at him, feeling a mixture of panic and regret swell up as the weight of what you’d just said settled between you.

You half-expected to see shock or pity on his face, but instead, Sunoo’s expression softened. Slowly, a smile spread across his lips, one of genuine happiness and warmth, lighting up his entire face.

“Do you… do you really feel that way?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper as if he didn’t quite believe his own ears.

Face burning, you nodded, too afraid to meet his eyes but not wanting to take the words back. “Yeah. I do,” you replied, voice quiet, feeling both relieved and terrified.

Without another word, Sunoo’s hands reached for yours, pulling you close. He looked at you with a joy that you hadn’t seen in him before, his eyes practically glowing. “I’ve liked you for so long,” he admitted softly, almost shyly. “You’re everything I wanted but thought I’d never have.”

You blinked, your breath catching as his words sank in. “Really?”

He nodded, grinning even wider as he held your gaze. “Yes. So… don’t pull away from me, okay? I want to be there with you, through everything.”

Still in shock, you finally let yourself breathe. Then, with a shaky smile, you whispered, “Okay.”

Sunoo’s face lit up, and he pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you close as if he’d never let go. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself relax, feeling the weight of your guarded heart ease as you leaned into him.

Sunoo’s eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of excitement and hesitation. “Can I… kiss you?” he asked softly.

You didn’t need to think twice. Instead of answering verbally, you leaned in closer, closing the distance between you until your lips met his. The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle brush of warmth and sweetness, but it quickly deepened as Sunoo responded, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck, cradling you closer.

Every nerve in your body tingled as you kissed him back, the sensation blooming inside you like fireworks. It felt right, like a missing piece finally falling into place. Sunoo’s lips were soft against yours, and the world melted away—there was no noise, no crowd, just the two of you.

As he deepened the kiss, you felt yourself melt against him, your worries and fears dissipating like morning mist in the sunlight. Sunoo pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathless and a little stunned.

“Wow,” he breathed, his eyes sparkling with delight. “That was… amazing.”

You chuckled softly, still feeling a rush of warmth and happiness coursing through you. “Yeah, it really was.”

“Can we do that again?” he asked, a playful glint in his eye, and you couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“Definitely,” you replied, heart racing with a mix of excitement and newfound affection.

With a grin, he leaned in again, capturing your lips with his, and you both fell into the rhythm of each other’s movements, the kiss growing more confident this time. It was a sweet, tender connection that spoke of the trust and understanding you’d built, a promise of what was to come.

As you pulled away again, your cheeks flushed, you couldn’t help but laugh at how easy it felt, how natural. “I can’t believe we waited this long,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know, right?” Sunoo replied, still beaming. “But I’m glad we finally did.” He paused, a seriousness creeping into his expression. “I really like you, you know. I’ve wanted to say it for a while, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, and you smiled softly. “You didn’t scare me off, Sunoo. If anything, you made me realize how much I needed you in my life.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with joy. “Then let’s keep making these memories, yeah? I want to know everything about you. All the good stuff and the not-so-good stuff. I want to be the one you trust.”

“Deal,” you replied, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you. “And I’ll try to be more open, I promise.”

“Good,” he said, and with a playful nudge, he added, “And maybe I’ll even get you to smile more often.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that broke through. “Maybe. But only if you keep being so ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous is my specialty,” he laughed, and as the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for this new chapter in your life—a chapter filled with laughter, trust, and the thrill of discovering each other.

[drunkinyourbenz]

ALWAYS THERE FOR YOU

☆ SYNOPSIS: your parents' excitment about the election results left you with a pit of dread in your stomach. luckliy for you, you had billie, who helped you through it all.

☆ RELATIONSHIP: billie eilish x fem!reader

☆ WARNINGS: angst, comfort, politics, right wing family, implied homophobic family, long distance relationship (during tour)

☆ REQUESTED? yes, anon

☆ NOTE: hi my loves, i saw this request and just had to write it right away (literally wrote it in half an hour lmao) for anyone needing comfort as well as the anon who requested this, i hope you're doing okay. i'm not from america, but i'm also deeply dissapointed about the election results, and i feel for all of you who are there. i hope i did this request justice, i don't have a family who's like super against my views so i hope this is okay <3 anyone with family celebrating like the readers is in this story, please imagine me giving you the biggest hug rn, i hope you're coping okay. my dms are always open if you want to talk about anything at all, i love you all, please stay safe <33

☆ WORD COUNT: 1.2k words

you and billie had been dating for a while now, and she made you happier than anyone ever had before. she was your other half, and without her you would feel incomplete. you weren’t on tour with her, much to both of your disappointments. but you’d had personal things that took up your time at the start of tour, so the plan was that you’d join her once she came on tour to your city, and you’d join her for the rest of tour. despite not being on tour with her, your mind always drifted back to her, she had a permanent residence in your heart. 

so naturally, on election night, you sat in your room thinking about her. you wanted nothing more than to be held by her in this moment, you’d slipped away from dinner as soon as you could, but you could still hear your family’s excited chatter coming from downstairs. the fact that they were happy about the way it was going, the way they wanted a future that was so drastically different from the one you had in your mind… it stung. your parents genuinely wanted a future that you weren’t sure whether you had a place in, and you didn’t really know what to do with that information.

you were trying to stay off social media, to stay away from the news, because you knew it wouldn’t help you—you couldn’t change a thing. but every few minutes, you’d end up switching back to the tab on your laptop with the live updates, feeling a sense of dread settling in your stomach. you couldn’t quite comprehend how so many more people had voted for him, the man who made you genuinely fear for your future. 

so finally, you texted billie. you needed her comfort, even though it would just be her voice over a call. you needed her. 

can i call you??

billie replied not long after, her text simple. 

bils: ofc baby

her contact calling you came up on your screen before you could even move to call her, and you automatically accepted the face time. her face popped up on your phone after a moment, and as well as the tiredness from tour you’d been seeing so much of lately, she looked just as crestfallen as you. the two of you shared the same opinions on this, and you knew how much billie cared about it. 

just as the call loaded properly, you heard a loud cheer from downstairs, and you couldn’t stop the grimace that appeared on your face. billie’s lips curved down in a soft, sympathetic frown, “oh, baby.” 

a sigh left your lips, the sound somewhat defeated, “i just… i don’t know how they want that. it feels like they want a future that i’m not safe in–” billie cut you off with an understanding sigh, she knew that if she let you keep talking, you’d simply spiral. she knew what you meant, you felt a rift between you and your parents, you felt unsure of what that meant for your relationship with them. billie herself had never experienced it, with her own family being supportive and sharing her views, but she had always been good at comforting you. 

“i’m so sorry, baby. you know that me and my family have always got you, no matter what, yeah? we’ve got your back, we’re always here for you. all of us.” 

your lips curled into a soft pout, her words lessening the sadness you were feeling. “i love your family.”

she smiled softly at you, “and we love you. always.” 

you cracked a small smile at her words, the disappointment behind your eyes still very much evident, but you felt an overwhelming feeling of love for the people in your life. even if your blood-related family didn’t understand, you had your chosen family. that small fact that you had your people, who agreed with you on these things, it helped to soften the blow of your parents wanting the country to go down such a different path than you did. only slightly, but it helped. you felt the pain dull slightly. 

the two of you stayed on the phone for a while, billie distracting you from your parents downstairs by telling you about the tour so far. obviously, she was also upset about everything going on, but she knew you needed this support and that was more important than talking about it. she just wanted you to feel okay. you could feel the emotions hanging around both of you even through the phone, but you appreciated that she wasn’t mentioning them right now. you’d have plenty of time to talk about the election later, once you didn’t feel so despairing about the future. 

after about half an hour of the two of you just talking, you decided to ask her something. 

“bils?” 

“hmm?” she hummed, looking up as if she could sense the importance of what you were about to say even through one word. 

“do you… do you think i could join you on tour a bit earlier than planned? i just don’t know if i can stay in this house for any longer, it’s just–”

“of course.” 

her instant, firm reply cut off your rambling and you sighed in relief, “thank you–”

“don’t thank me, darling. i just want you to feel safe.” she paused, thinking, “you could join us on the minnesota dates, if you want. there’s two days there, so it gives you more time to get here. i can book you a flight–” 

you smiled at her considerate words, the way she was taking everything into account. oh, how you loved her. “that sounds perfect. and don’t book first class this time, jesus. i can put up with an economy flight, i’m used to them. plus,  i get to see you at the end of it.” 

she smiled warmly, “mm, you do. and then i’m wrapping you up in a massive hug and never letting you go, because i love you.” 

you giggled softly at her words, “i think i’m looking forward to seeing maggie more, actually.” 

billie rolled her eyes fondly, her mother just adored you. “i don’t blame you.” 

the two of you talked into the night, and were still on the call when you woke up. you weren’t aware that you’d fallen asleep, and you probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for her soothing voice.

it was now the early hours of the morning, soft sunlight streaming through the curtains you’d forgotten to shut. the house had gone silent by now, your parents finally asleep, and you felt a tiny bit of peace just laying there in the silence. you looked at the screen for a moment, simply admiring her pretty sleeping face, the way her eyelashes fluttered slightly and her chest rose and fell with each breath. this time in a few days, you’d be in her arms again. 

you let out a soft sigh. the country may be falling apart by the seams, but you had billie. you had her, so you’d be okay. 

[inkedinshadows]

Never Hold Back

Day 31: Squirting — Lucien x f!reader

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, insecure reader

Word count: 1.099

A/N: we've finally got to the end of Kinktober! This was so much fun, but it was also exhausting ngl. I'm working on new fics and I'm so glad it's not smut bc I seriously need a break from it. I didn't think I'd be able to write a fic for each day when I decided to do this and I have to say I'm quite of myself for making it. Thank you so much to everyone who read/commented/reblogged my silly smutty blurbs and if you've stuck around to read them all, I love you pls let's get married.

based on this suggestion

You didn’t have much experience with sex. Or rather, you did, but the people you had been with could be counted on one hand. And if there was one thing you learned after your first time, it was how to fake an orgasm just before the real one hit you. That way, your partner would relent, sparing you the embarrassment.

But Lucien wasn’t like your previous lovers. He was your mate.

When you arched off the bed and moaned louder than before, he pulled his mouth away from you and watched you with a furrowed brow.

“Why do you do that?”

At first, you didn’t understand what he was talking about, and your insecurities took over. What had you done? Did you have an actual orgasm? No, you would have felt that, and Lucien would have looked more grossed out than concerned.

“Do what?” you asked, trying to keep the tremor from your voice.

Lucien sat up straight and you immediately felt the absence of his head between your thighs. His eyes found yours and the uneasiness etched on his face made you brace yourself for what might be coming.

He was silent for a moment before he said quietly, “If you don’t enjoy what I’m doing, please just tell me.”

Eyes wide, you sat up too. “Why would you think that? Of course I enjoy it, Lu!”

“Then why did you just fake an orgasm?”

“I didn’t—”

“You did it last time too.”

Your breath caught, heat rising to your cheeks until you were sure you looked like a tomato. Unsure how to respond, you looked down at your fidgeting hands.

You always thought you were good at faking, that it looked real enough to not raise suspicions. None of the males you’d been with before had ever noticed. And now that your mate had realized it, you wished the ground would open and swallow you whole.

“Sunshine,” he called softly.

A slender finger hooked under your chin, and then you were looking into his eyes. He didn’t seem upset, which spurred you to finally say something.

“I’m sorry,” you stuttered, and words began pouring out in an incoherent stream. “It’s just… my body. When I come, it does— it’s really gross, so I just… I thought you—”

You stopped abruptly when his thumb moved to cover your lips. He searched your face, his brows still furrowed, before he asked, “What do you mean ‘gross’?”

You shook your head, resisting the urge to look away again, but his gaze was piercing, and his golden eye seemed to see right through you, so eventually you answered, voice just above a whisper.

“I… I tend to squirt.”

You expected disgust, judgment, maybe even rejection—the same reactions you had gotten the few times it happened, the reasons you had started faking.

Instead, Lucien smiled broadly. “You do?”

He sounded so excited that you frowned as you gave him a single nod. His hands traveled down your body, caressing your sides until they rested on your waist. You were still waiting for a rejection, and he probably read it on your face because he gently squeezed you.

“Y/N… did someone tell you it’s gross?” he questioned. “Is that why you say that?”

You blinked. “You don’t think it is?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Lucien’s posture changed. His back went a bit rigid, and his jaw clenched as he let you go. “Lay back down,” he said, or rather ordered. No soft tone was left in his voice, in his expression.

“Lucien…” you tried, but he cut you off.

“Lay down. I’m going to make you come.”

You did as he asked, though with a touch of hesitation. Lucien was quick to settle between your legs again. When you opened your mouth to try and talk him out of it one last time, he beat you to it.

“I am going to make you come,” he repeated, even more firmly than the first time. And then he was licking a stripe up your folds, his hands holding you open for him to feast on.

You decided to just enjoy it, then. What else were you supposed to do when he flicked his tongue over your clit and gently rolled it between his lips? Your hand shot out to tangle in his fiery hair, and you sucked in a breath, feeling his low chuckle reverberate against your cunt.

He probed your entrance with a finger, and when you squirmed, he pushed it in and curled it, hitting that sweet spot that drew a groan from deep in your throat. And then you lost all sense of time and space as the fingers became two and his mouth latched onto your clit.

The pleasure was rising fast—faster than ever, now that you weren’t worrying about waiting for the perfect moment to fake your orgasm. Yet as you felt it approaching, the thought that maybe you should stop before it was too late lingered at the back of your mind.

“Lucien, I’m… I’m close,” you warned, your voice a breathless murmur.

“Then come for me, sunshine.” He looked up at you through his lashes, and his next words were a low, commanding growl. “Don’t you dare hold it back.”

When he thrust his fingers in deeper and curled them once more, you didn’t hold it back, and after so long without such an intense feeling, you were utterly overwhelmed by it. A loud cry broke free from you as your whole body shook while you squirted all over Lucien’s fingers and chin. He held you firm, still working you until you went limp, spent and panting. Only then did he pull back, and you blushed at the sight of his face covered in your release.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Lucien only smiled. “Don’t be. Don’t ever apologize for it.”

He climbed up your body, and you wrapped your arms around his neck out of instinct. As he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You weren’t sure how you felt about it.

“It was amazing, sunshine,” he murmured against your lips. “Hot, even.”

His words warmed your heart and a bit of the shame you had grown accustomed to began to melt away. If Lucien, your mate, found it hot… then maybe it wasn’t actually that bad after all.

“And to think that you've denied yourself so many orgasms because of it…” he went on. A smirk blossomed on his lips and a mischievous glint sparked in his russet eye. “Let me remedy that.”

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