#but let's consider this a way for me to warm up again

[the-winter-spider]

Mine | One Shot

Parings: Bucky x Reader AU

Word count: 10k+

Warnings: Probably the fluffiest thing ive ever written, of course angst.

A/N: Yall this AU bucky branch ive extended has been life changing for me lmaoooo

The first time you meet Bucky Barnes, he’s already looking at you, a soft, open look in his eyes that sends a jolt through you. You’ve just started a new job in town and ended up here at a cozy, dimly lit bar one night after work. You sit down a few stools away, glancing over at him—he’s warm, approachable, not exactly the type you’d expect to find sitting alone.

You look away quickly, heart suddenly racing, though you’re not sure why. He’s a stranger, just someone you’ll see tonight and probably never again, but something about him feels safe in a way you haven’t felt in years.

A few minutes later, he moves closer, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Rough day?” he asks, voice gentle, as if he’s been waiting for you to say something first.

You nod, a little surprised by both his forwardness and the kindness in his tone. You’re used to handling things on your own, keeping walls up that no one’s ever bothered to climb. But something about Bucky makes you want to drop your guard, if only for a moment.

You offer Bucky a small smile, feeling strangely at ease under his gaze. “Yeah, you could say that,” you reply, letting out a quiet sigh. “It’s been… a long week. Just finished my first week at a new job, and I’m still finding my footing. Everything’s just a bit overwhelming, you know?”

Bucky nods, understanding flashing in his eyes. “New job, new town?” he asks, his tone inviting, like he genuinely wants to know, not just make conversation.

You nod, surprised at how easy it feels to open up. “Yeah, both, actually. I just moved here, so it’s been a lot of… adjustment.”

He tilts his head, his expression warm and reassuring. “That’s a lot to take on. I remember when I first moved here… let’s just say it wasn’t exactly a smooth transition.” He chuckles softly, the sound low and comforting, and you can’t help but smile.

“Really?” you ask, curious despite yourself. “What brought you here?”

His gaze softens as he considers the question, as though he’s debating just how much to share. “Needed a fresh start,” he says simply, a hint of something unspoken in his eyes. “Figured this was a good place to do that.”

You feel a pang of recognition—you understand that need to start over, to build something new. “I get that,” you murmur. “Sometimes… sometimes you just need a change to get things back on track.”

“Exactly,” he replies, his eyes brightening as he leans a little closer. “Sounds like we might have a bit in common, then.”

There’s a brief silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s like the two of you are sharing something without needing to say it outright. You feel your usual guardedness slipping, replaced by a warmth that’s both thrilling and unsettling. It’s strange—he’s still a stranger, and yet he feels familiar, like someone you could trust, someone who understands.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his voice gentle, his gaze steady. “Just to celebrate surviving the first week. It’s no small thing.”

You smile, nodding as a rush of gratitude fills you. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Bucky signals to the bartender, ordering two drinks and settling back beside you, his posture relaxed. Bucky leans in, a warm smile lighting up his face as he listens, his full attention on you. It’s like he’s hanging on every word, nodding and chuckling at all the right moments, his eyes crinkling at the corners every time you say something that amuses him.

“So, then,” you continue, trying to hold back a laugh as you recall the memory, “I walked into what I thought was the meeting room, you know, just trying to make a good first impression… only to realize it was the break room. And everyone just kind of stared at me like I was some intruder there to steal their coffee.”

Bucky lets out a genuine laugh, shaking his head. “Oh no! And you didn’t just play it cool?”

You grin, rolling your eyes. “Nope, not at all. I panicked and mumbled something about being ‘lost’—in the most literal sense. And then, to top it off, I nearly backed into a coffee machine trying to escape!"

He laughs harder, the sound warm and genuine, filling the space between you. “I think that’s endearing,” he says, his tone sincere. “Bet they thought you were charming.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you say sarcastically, unable to hide your smile. “If by ‘charming’ you mean they think I’m the odd one in the office now, then yeah, absolutely. As if being the 'new girl' wasnt enough"

He smirks, leaning his chin on his hand as he watches you, that mischievous glint still in his eyes. “Hey, at least you’re memorable. It’s not every day people meet someone with personality.”

You laugh, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, so I have ‘personality’ now?”

“Definitely,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re… different. In a good way.” His gaze softens, and for a moment, you see something more serious flicker in his eyes, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

Trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your chest, you shake your head, focusing on lightening the mood. “So,” you say, grinning, “what about you? Any embarrassing first-day stories?”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, way too many,” he says, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “When I started at my last job, they had this big company lunch. I was so nervous that I accidentally grabbed the CEO’s sandwich off his plate, thinking it was from the catering table.”

Your jaw drops. “No! What did you do?”

He laughs, shaking his head at the memory. “Honestly? I didn’t even realize until I’d taken the first bite. The CEO looked at me, just stunned, and I kind of just froze, sandwich halfway to my mouth. I thought for sure I was going to get fired on the spot.”

You’re laughing so hard you nearly spill your drink. “So, did he say anything?”

“Oh, he said plenty,” Bucky says, chuckling along with you. “But, somehow, he found it funny. Or maybe he just took pity on me, who knows? Either way, I survived, but I don’t think I’ll ever live it down.”

You both sit there, laughter fading into comfortable silence as you sip your drinks, sharing those lighthearted moments and embarrassing stories that somehow make you feel closer. After a few beats, he glances at you, his expression softening.

“It’s nice, you know… hearing all this,” he says quietly. “Feels like I’m getting to know the real you.”

Your cheeks flush, but his words make you feel seen in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying. “Yeah… I think maybe you are,” you say softly.

His gaze holds yours, an unspoken understanding passing between you. And as you sit together, in the dim light of the bar with laughter still lingering in the air, you realize that this—this feeling of being understood, of being truly known—is something you didn’t even know you were missing. And with Bucky, it feels like you’re finally finding it.

By the time you’re finishing your second drink, you’re feeling lighter, the weight of the past week fading away, replaced by a warmth that seems to linger between you and Bucky.

“Well,” he says after a moment, glancing at his watch but making no move to leave. “Thank you for letting me share your first-week celebration. I don’t know about you, but I’d say this is the best part of any first week—meeting someone you didn’t expect to.”

You blush, looking down with a shy smile. “Yeah… me too.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, and in the back of your mind, you realize you’re hoping this won’t be the last time you see him. Maybe he feels the same way, because as you gather your things to leave, he clears his throat, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

“So, listen… if you ever want some company after work or need someone to talk to about the craziness of starting over, I’d be happy to be that person,” he says, his voice soft, a little uncertain.

Your heart skips a beat, and you smile, feeling that warmth spread through you again. “I’d like that, Bucky. I’d really like that.”

With one last shared smile, you both exchange numbers, a quiet promise lingering in the air that this, whatever it is, isn’t just a fleeting moment.

“You know,” he says, after a quiet moment, “if you’re free tomorrow, i can show you the best place for coffee in the morning.”

For reasons you can’t explain, you say yes. And it’s the first of many yeses you’ll say to him, even if you can’t shake the feeling that opening up to someone can only lead to getting hurt.

The next morning, you meet Bucky outside a quaint little café, the kind with mismatched chairs and hanging plants that give it a cozy, lived-in feel. Sunlight spills across the sidewalk, and there’s a crispness in the air that makes everything feel brighter, more hopeful.

You both order coffee and pastries and find a table outside. As you settle in, he looks over at you with that same soft, open smile that feels like a balm to your heart. You’re not sure if it’s the warmth of the coffee or his presence, but somehow you feel yourself letting go, leaning into the morning with him as if it’s a part of something bigger.

“So, did you always know you wanted to be here?” he asks, taking a sip of his coffee, his gaze never leaving yours.

You shake your head with a little laugh. “Not exactly. Moving here was… spontaneous. I just needed a change, I guess. I don’t know if it’s where I want to end up, but it feels like a good place to be, at least for now.”

He nods thoughtfully, a smile tugging at his lips. “I get that. Change is… good sometimes. Scary, but good.”

There’s a brief silence before you turn the question back on him. “What about you? Have you always been here?”

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I bounced around a lot before I landed here. I’m from Brooklyn, actually. Grew up in a small apartment with my mom and sister, Rebecca. It wasn’t much, but it was home.”

He pauses, his gaze drifting, and you can see a fondness there, mingled with nostalgia. “My sister used to make me these ridiculous lunches for school. You know those sandwiches where it’s way too much peanut butter, like it’d practically glue your mouth shut?”

You laugh, picturing a young Bucky struggling with a lopsided sandwich. “So what, she was trying to get you to stop talking?”

“Maybe! It probably worked a few times,” he says with a grin. “She was older than me, and she loved teasing me. But she’d also defend me to the ends of the earth if I needed it. She was tough but loyal—still is. We used to spend summers playing stickball in the streets or riding our bikes down to the pier until the sun set. Those were good days.”

You find yourself smiling, caught up in the warmth of his stories. There’s something about the way he talks about his sister and his childhood that feels so genuine, so open, and it makes you feel safe somehow, like you could share parts of yourself that you usually keep hidden.

“Sounds like you were close,” you say softly.

“Yeah,” he replies, nodding. “We still are, even though we don’t see each other as much these days. But you know how it is. Life gets busy, people drift….” He trails off, looking a little pensive, but then he catches your gaze and offers a reassuring smile. “But we still check in. She likes to give me a hard time about how I’ve ‘softened up’ over the years.”

“Oh, so you used to be a real troublemaker, huh?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe a little,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But only in the fun ways. My friends and I—especially my best friend, Steve—always found ways to keep things interesting. Steve was the wild one, though, always dragging me into things. He’d get these ideas—like, one summer, he convinced me we could make a raft and take it out on the East River.”

“Wait, you didn’t actually try that, did you?” you ask, laughing as you imagine two boys clinging to a makeshift raft.

“Oh, we tried,” Bucky says, shaking his head with a chuckle. “It was a disaster. We were out there for maybe ten minutes before the whole thing started falling apart, and we ended up soaking wet, half-drowning, while everyone on the shore was just watching and laughing. My mom nearly had a heart attack when she found out.”

You laugh, clutching your coffee cup as you picture the scene. “So, I guess you didn’t end up the next great explorers of Brooklyn?”

“Nope, that dream died real fast,” he says, grinning. “But that was Steve for you—big dreams, no plans. I think that’s why we were close, though. He’d always push me to do things I wouldn’t even think about trying. He’d challenge me in ways that I didn’t know I needed. Kind of made me who I am today.”

You see a glimmer of nostalgia and perhaps a little sadness in his eyes as he talks about Steve, and you wonder if they’re still close. But before you can ask, he leans forward, his expression softening as he looks at you.

“So, how about you?” he asks, changing the subject. “Any siblings?”

You nod, taking a small sip of your coffee. “Yeah, an older brother. We were close growing up, but life kind of… pulled us in different directions. He was the one who kept me out of trouble, actually. He fled home as soon as he was old enough” You chuckle sadly “Always thought he was the responsible one, and I was the daydreamer. Guess some things never change.”

Bucky’s eyes light up, as if he’s seeing a new side of you. “Daydreamer, huh? What kind of dreams?”

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to answer. But then you feel that familiar warmth between you, the kind that feels safe, inviting you to share a little more of yourself.

“Honestly, I don’t know anymore,” you admit softly. “I guess that’s part of why I moved here. Trying to figure it out, trying to find something that feels… real.”

He nods, his gaze understanding, as if he sees right through you in a way that’s both comforting and a little terrifying. “Well, I think that’s brave,” he says quietly. “Taking a leap, starting fresh… not everyone has the guts to do that.”

The way he says it, so genuine and reassuring, makes you feel like maybe you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, like maybe the path isn’t as uncertain as it once felt.

The conversation drifts into comfortable silence, and you both take a moment to sip your coffee and enjoy the warmth of the sun. After a while, he leans back, his expression thoughtful as he looks over at you.

“You know, meeting someone like you… it’s kind of a rare thing,” he says, his voice soft but full of a sincerity that takes you by surprise. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels… right.”

His words settle into your heart, and you feel a warmth spreading through you, a connection that feels deeper than anything you expected to find in a new town, with a man you’ve only just met. And in that moment, with the sunlight catching in his eyes, you feel a quiet certainty that this—whatever this is—might be the beginning of something real.

Over the next few weeks, life begins to settle into a new rhythm. Days are marked by coffee dates that turn into long walks down the quiet streets, and those walks stretch into late-night conversations on park benches under streetlights. Bucky has quickly become your favorite part of the day, and even though neither of you has spoken about how you feel, there’s a growing closeness—a feeling of inevitability that’s hard to ignore.

One night, after a cozy dinner together, you find yourselves lingering on a quiet bench, watching the lights of the city reflected on the river. The silence between you is easy, comfortable, but there’s an unspoken tension there, too—something that hovers in the space between words, in the quiet glances you both share.

Bucky looks over at you, a warm smile playing at his lips. “I can’t believe it’s only been a few weeks,” he says, his voice soft. “Feels like I’ve known you… longer.”

You nod, feeling your heart race at the sincerity in his eyes. “I know what you mean,” you murmur, glancing down to hide your own smile. “I don’t usually… open up to people like this. But with you, it just feels easy.”

He grins, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. “So you’re saying I’m easy to talk to?”

You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “Don’t get too cocky, Barnes. I’m just saying you have… potential.”

“Oh, potential, huh?” he teases, giving you a mock-hurt look. “Wow. Just when I thought I was doing well.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling a lightness you hadn’t felt in a long time. Somehow, Bucky has a way of making you feel like yourself, like you don’t have to be anything other than exactly who you are.

As the night deepens, you both head home, reluctantly parting with lingering glances and unspoken words hanging in the air. But when you finally get home, your phone lights up with a text, and you feel a thrill run through you as you see Bucky’s name.

Bucky: So, I’m not getting cocky, but… any chance I passed the “potential” test?

You laugh, typing out a reply.

You: I’d say you’re doing okay… so far.

Almost immediately, he texts back.

Bucky: Just okay? You’re killing me here. I might have to try harder.

You: I think I can handle that.

There’s a pause, and you watch as the typing bubble pops up again, wondering what he’ll say next.

Bucky: Just so we’re clear, I’m pretty sure you’re the highlight of my day. Don’t tell anyone—I’ve got a reputation to maintain.

You feel your cheeks warm, smiling at your phone. It’s strange how quickly he’s managed to find his way into your heart, and even stranger how natural it feels to be talking to him like this.

You: Highlight of your day, huh? That’s some big talk, Barnes.

Bucky: It’s not just talk, sweet girl....I mean it.

You pause, taking in the sincerity of his words. For a second, you wonder if he can feel the same pull you do, the same feeling that this could be something real.

You: Guess I’ll see what you come up with next time.

Bucky: Oh, so now I’m being challenged? I’ll have to think of something special.

You: Good luck with that, I’m a tough critic.

Bucky: Challenge accepted, darling.

His use of the word “darling” sends a thrill through you, and you feel yourself blush, biting your lip as you smile at the screen. The lighthearted back-and-forth carries on into the night, each text feeling like another step closer to something you’re both tiptoeing around, something you’re both afraid to fully acknowledge yet.

And as you finally say goodnight, you feel a contented warmth settle over you, the kind that promises there’s something real here, something waiting to unfold. But for now, the unspoken words, the quiet glances, and the sweet, flirty texts are more than enough, leaving you falling asleep with a smile on your face.

--

One night, you’re both walking through a nearby park, the cool evening air wrapping around you. It’s late enough that the world feels almost empty, like the two of you are the only ones who know this quiet part of the city. You’re talking about your favorite childhood movies, laughing over memories, and you feel a lightness in you, a happiness that’s been dormant for so long you’d nearly forgotten it was there.

“So you’re telling me,” Bucky says, raising an eyebrow as he glances over at you, “that you actually dressed up as an elf for three Halloweens in a row because of Lord of the Rings?”

You laugh, feeling your cheeks flush. “Yes! I was obsessed. It was all I wanted to do for years. I think I had pointy ears stashed in every drawer.”

Bucky grins, his eyes twinkling. “I can’t believe I missed out on that... bet you made a cute elf.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, trying to stifle a laugh. “It was… an intense phase. I still cringe a little thinking about it.”

“I don’t know,” he says, nudging you playfully. “I think it sounds perfect. I used to dress up as a knight when I was a kid. One time, I even convinced Steve to be the dragon.”

You laugh, picturing a younger version of him, full of life and laughter. “Please tell me there’s photographic evidence of that.”

“There might be,” he teases, smirking. “But I think you’re going to have to stick around a little longer before I start sharing the embarrassing childhood photos.”

Something in his tone, playful yet sincere, makes your heart skip a beat. You realize how much you look forward to these moments, how he’s become a part of your life in a way you never saw coming. There’s a softness about him that pulls you in, a kindness that makes you feel safe, and the thought of seeing where this goes fills you with a quiet excitement.

You walk a bit further, the silence between you comfortable, and he glances over, a question lingering in his eyes. “So,” he starts, a little hesitant. “Are you… happy here? I mean, you said you needed a change. Do you feel like this is it?”

You think about his question, about how you arrived here hoping to find a fresh start, not knowing if it would ever feel like home. But now, as you stand beside him, there’s a sense of belonging that surprises you.

“Honestly?” you say, your voice soft. “I think I am. It’s strange, but being here… it’s like I can breathe again. Like maybe I can finally be myself, without all the expectations I left behind.”

Bucky nods, his expression thoughtful, and he stops walking for a moment, turning to face you. “I’m glad,” he says quietly, his gaze holding yours. “You deserve that. You deserve… to feel free.”

His words sink into you, and for a moment, all you can do is look at him, taking in the gentleness in his eyes, the warmth in his smile. It’s almost too much—the idea that someone could see you this clearly, understand you so deeply.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

He reaches out, brushing his fingers against yours in a simple, tender gesture. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmurs, his voice low. “I’m just glad I get to know you.”

There’s a vulnerability in his words that catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re both standing there, the world around you quiet and still. You want to say something, to let him know how much he’s come to mean to you, how his presence feels like a light that’s brought you back to yourself. But the words catch in your throat, so instead, you simply squeeze his hand, letting the warmth of his touch speak for you.

----

Another evening, you’re both sitting on a small bench at the edge of the park, looking up at the stars. Bucky has his arm around you, pulling you close against the chill of the night, and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling a peace you haven’t felt in years.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks suddenly, his voice soft, as though he’s been thinking about the question for a while.

You’re quiet for a moment, surprised by the question. You used to avoid thinking about the future, unsure of where you fit in, always second-guessing yourself. But now, with him, the idea of the future doesn’t feel as daunting.

“Yeah,” you say finally. “I do. But it’s different now. I guess… I’m not so afraid of it anymore.”

He nods, a small smile on his face. “I’m glad,” he says, his voice filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in the best way. He hesitates, glancing over at you. “I know we’re just… starting this, whatever it is, but I hope you know that I’m here, for all of it. I don’t… plan on going anywhere.”

The sincerity in his words makes you catch your breath, and you feel that familiar warmth rising in your chest, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper. You don’t say anything, instead reaching up to brush a gentle hand against his cheek, letting him know that you feel the same, even if the words are still forming in your heart.

As the night deepens, you sit there in a comfortable silence, his arm around you, his steady presence grounding you. And as you look up at the stars, you realize that for the first time in a long time, you’re not afraid of what lies ahead.

But yet, every time he leans a little closer, touches your hand, or tells you something vulnerable, you can’t help but feel that old anxiety creeping in, telling you to be careful. It’s as if you’re back to being a kid, watching your parents’ marriage shatter right in front of you. You’ve told yourself for years that love can’t be trusted, that letting people in only leads to pain.

---

One evening, when you’re sitting beside him at your favorite spot near the river, he reaches over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re safe with me, you know?” he says softly, sensing the hesitation in your gaze.

The words linger in the air, and you look down, feeling your defenses rise again. “I don’t think you understand,” you murmur. “People leave. Or worse, they hurt you without even meaning to.”

Bucky takes your hand, holding it gently, grounding you. “I know,” he says quietly. “But maybe… maybe you don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

The river flows quietly beside you both, the soft murmur of water filling the silence between you. Bucky’s hand is still gently wrapped around yours, grounding you with a warmth that feels both comforting and unfamiliar. Part of you wants to pull away, to shield yourself from the vulnerability you feel creeping in, but there’s something about him that makes you feel safe, even when the memories are so raw.

You take a shaky breath, finally letting your eyes meet his. “My parents… they didn’t have the kind of love that you read about, or see in movies. It was messy and… destructive. They fought constantly—screaming, blaming each other for everything wrong in their lives. Growing up, I thought that was just how it was supposed to be. That love was meant to hurt.”

Bucky listens intently, his expression softening as you continue, no hint of judgment in his gaze. He’s just… there, holding space for you in a way that makes you feel seen, like you don’t have to hide.

You swallow, feeling the ache of those memories resurface. “I used to tell myself that when I grew up, I’d find someone who was different. Someone who wouldn’t treat me like my father treated my mother.” Your voice drops, barely a whisper now. “But when I left home, I fell for someone who was just like him. He was… careless, selfish. I gave everything I had because I thought that was what love was. And he hurt me, Bucky, over and over, but I convinced myself it was my fault, that if I just tried harder, he’d change.”

Bucky’s grip on your hand tightens, his gaze filled with a fierce protectiveness that you didn’t expect. You can see his jaw clench, as though he’s holding back words he wants to say, but he lets you continue, giving you the space you need.

“When he finally left,” you continue, your voice breaking slightly, “I felt… empty. Like I’d failed. Everyone always leaves, and somehow, I believed it was because of something I did or something I wasn’t. For a long time, I thought I didn’t deserve anything better.”

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, and before you can brush it away, Bucky reaches out, gently wiping it with his thumb. His touch is so tender, so careful, that it breaks something inside you, a wall you didn’t realize you were still holding up.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he says softly, his voice full of conviction. “None of it. And it wasn’t your fault.”

You try to look away, the old shame rising up, but he places a gentle hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your skin. “Hey,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “Look at me.”

You meet his gaze, and the kindness there is almost too much to bear.

“I don’t care what your past looked like,” he says, his voice steady and certain. “None of that changes how I feel about you. You are worth more than any of the pain you’ve been through. You deserve love that feels safe, that feels steady. You deserve someone who chooses you, every single day, this is worth the risk to me, you're worth it to me"

The words sink into you, healing in a way you never thought possible. His hand rests on your cheek, grounding you, and for the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be right. That maybe love doesn’t have to hurt.

Bucky leans in, his forehead resting gently against yours, his voice a soft promise. “I’m not going anywhere. I know it’s hard to believe, and I know trust doesn’t come easy. But I want to be here for you. Every single day.”

Your eyes close, and you feel his warmth surrounding you, filling the empty spaces you’ve carried for so long. He stays close, his presence steady and unyielding, like a lifeline you didn’t know you needed.

When you finally find your voice, it’s soft, almost trembling. “How can you be so sure?”

He smiles, a gentle, understanding smile that melts every last piece of fear you’re holding onto. “Because I know what it’s like to feel broken. And I also know that finding someone who understands, who sees you for who you really are… that’s worth everything.”

In that moment, you feel a shift inside you, a glimmer of hope where there used to be only fear. Bucky is everything you thought you’d never find—kind, patient, willing to fight for you even when you’re not sure you can fight for yourself.

You let out a shaky breath, a tear slipping down your cheek, but this time it’s not one of sadness. It’s the relief of knowing that maybe, just maybe, you’re not alone anymore.

“I don’t know if I know how to love like that,” you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s hand gently trails down to your chin, lifting it so your eyes meet his. “Then we’ll learn together,” he says softly, his gaze filled with a warmth and patience that takes your breath away. “One day at a time.”

And as he pulls you into his arms, holding you close against the quiet backdrop of the river, you let yourself believe that this—this love, this kindness, this man—might just be the home you’ve been searching for all along..

You stay there together by the river, wrapped in the warmth of Bucky’s arms as the soft murmur of the water flows beside you. His steady heartbeat under your cheek is calming, and you close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the safety of the moment. It’s as if time has slowed, like the world has paused just for the two of you, letting you both breathe.

After a while, he pulls back slightly, enough to look down at you, his hand still resting gently against your cheek. There’s a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability that mirrors your own, as if he’s waiting for just the right moment.

His thumb traces a soft line along your cheek, and he hesitates, as though he’s searching for the right words. Finally, he takes a deep breath, his voice low and steady, full of a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“Will you do me the honor,” he begins, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, “of being mine, darling?”

The question hangs in the air, his words so simple yet carrying so much weight, so much love. You feel the familiar urge to pull back, to put up your defenses, but with Bucky standing there, his gaze unwavering, you realize that you don’t want to run anymore. Not from him.

A warmth spreads through you, a quiet happiness that feels like it’s been waiting for this moment all along. You meet his gaze, feeling every ounce of his love and devotion, and you realize that, with him, you don’t have to be afraid. Not of love, not of loss—because he’s here, and he’s choosing you.

With a soft, shaky breath, you nod, a smile breaking across your face as you whisper, “Yes, Bucky. I’m yours.”

A look of pure joy lights up his face, and he pulls you close, pressing his forehead against yours as he lets out a relieved laugh, as if he’s been waiting for this moment as long as you have. His hand cups the back of your neck, and he murmurs softly, his voice full of warmth and certainty, “I'm not going anywhere ever, your stuck with me angel"

He leans in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your lips, and in that moment, everything else fades away. It’s just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other, and you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

As he pulls you back into his arms, holding you close against the night, you know that this—this love, this connection, this man—is home. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe love doesn’t have to hurt; maybe it can be kind, steady, and true.

---

Over the next few months, Bucky weaves his way into every part of your life, becoming as familiar and comforting as home itself. He’s there for all of it—the quiet, mundane moments, the small victories, and the heavy days when the past creeps in and weighs on you. It’s as if he knows exactly when to be there, a steady presence who never asks more of you than you’re ready to give.

One day, after a long day, you find yourself curled up on the couch with him, your head resting against his shoulder. You’re both wrapped in a comfortable silence, but he can sense that something’s weighing on you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently, his fingers trailing soothingly along your arm. He doesn’t push, just leaves the door open, giving you the choice.

You hesitate for a moment, the familiar fear creeping in, but with him, it’s easier to let down your guard. You take a breath, leaning into his warmth as you begin to speak.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever stop carrying all of it with me,” you admit softly. “My parents… their anger was everywhere. They’d go from silence to shouting, always blaming each other. As a kid, I used to hide in my room, but I could still feel it, like their anger was seeping through the walls.”

Bucky’s hand stills, his fingers curling around yours, grounding you. He doesn’t interrupt, just listens, his eyes filled with a quiet empathy that makes it easier to continue.

“I used to think it was normal, that that was just… how love looked. Chaotic, painful. When I got older, I started building walls, just to keep people at a distance. It felt safer that way.”

He nods, squeezing your hand gently. “That must have been so hard,” he says quietly, his voice laced with understanding. “To grow up thinking that’s all there was to love.”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. “I know it sounds strange, but I thought maybe I’d somehow inherited that anger, that chaos. Like… if I let anyone close, it would just repeat. That I’d end up hurting them, or they’d hurt me.”

Bucky’s gaze softens, and he shifts slightly, turning so that he’s fully facing you, his thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek. “You’re not them,” he whispers, his voice steady and sure. “And you don’t have to carry their mistakes.”

The kindness in his eyes, the unwavering gentleness, makes you feel like a knot is loosening in your chest. You hadn’t realized how heavy those fears had become, how deeply they’d settled into you.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “For being here. For listening.”

“Always,” he says, his hand still resting against your cheek. “I’ll be here, no matter what.”

On a lighter day, Bucky’s there for your small victories, too, celebrating them as if they’re his own. You remember a Friday afternoon, when you’d finally completed a major project at work, one you’d been stressing over for weeks. You’d texted him, excited but exhausted, and by the time you got home, you found him standing in your kitchen with a bottle of champagne and a cake with “You did it!” iced onto it in wobbly, uneven letters.

“You did all this… for me?” you ask, laughing as you read the words on the cake.

“Of course,” he says, grinning as he pops the cork on the champagne. “You’ve been working so hard, and I thought you deserved a little celebration.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling the warmth of his joy for you radiate through the room. “You know, no one’s ever celebrated something like this with me before.”

“Well,” he says, pouring two glasses and handing you one, “then it’s about time someone did, and in honoured it gets to be me"

You clink glasses, and as you take a sip, you realize just how much he’s become part of your life, filling the empty spaces you’d once thought would always be there.

You sip the champagne, feeling the bubbles dance on your tongue as you look at Bucky, the warmth of the moment settling over you like a blanket. He’s watching you with that easy, genuine smile, the kind that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. You’d been working so hard, pouring everything you had into that project, and it was like he knew exactly how much you needed someone to see you, to be there, to celebrate this small victory with you.

“Really,” you say, setting down your glass and shaking your head with a laugh. “I still can’t believe you did all of this… for me. The cake, the champagne… It’s so thoughtful.”

He shrugs, but there’s a softness in his eyes. “You deserve it. I know how hard you’ve been working.” He glances at the cake, chuckling a little. “Even if the cake looks like it was made by a five-year-old.”

“It’s perfect,” you say, a laugh escaping you as you look at the uneven letters again, and he grins, that familiar glint of mischief lighting up his eyes.

Over the past few weeks, he’s taken to saying those three words to you—quietly, simply, as if he’s known them all along. It usually happens in those gentle moments, the ones that sneak up on you and make you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. The first time he’d said it, you’d felt the words catch in your throat, and he’d squeezed your hand, smiling softly.

“It’s okay,” he’d whispered. “You don’t have to say it back. I just… wanted you to know.”

And he’s been true to his word, never pressuring you, never expecting more than you’re ready to give. He says it without hesitation, as though his love for you is as natural as breathing, and each time, it feels like another piece of the armor around your heart softens. You’ve been holding those words close, letting them settle, and tonight, with him standing here in your kitchen, celebrating you, it’s like they’re finally ready to take flight.

You take a breath, setting your glass down and looking at him, really looking at him. He’s so patient, so steady, just waiting for you to be ready, and in that moment, the words slip out, simple and true.

“I love you too, Bucky.”

For a moment, he looks surprised, his eyes widening just slightly. Then a slow, radiant smile spreads across his face, and he lets out a soft, relieved laugh, like he’s been holding onto a breath he didn’t realize he’d taken.

“Yeah?” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, and there’s a gentleness in his gaze that makes your heart feel like it’s glowing.

You nod, a warmth blooming in your chest as you watch him, feeling the weight of those words sink in, wrapping around the two of you. “Yeah,” you say softly. “I love you.”

He takes a step closer, reaching out to take your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours in that familiar way that makes you feel safe, cherished. He doesn’t say anything else—he doesn’t have to. The way he looks at you, like you’re the most precious thing in his world, says it all.

You stand there together, the sound of quiet laughter and clinking glasses filling the air, and as you look into his eyes, you know this is just the beginning of something beautiful.

---

One night, over a year after that moment by the river, you’re sitting on the back porch with him, wrapped in a blanket as you watch the stars. It’s quiet, peaceful, and he has his arm around you, pulling you close as you lean into him.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmur, breaking the silence.

“Anything,” he replies, his voice soft.

“Do you ever… I don’t know… feel like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop?” you ask, the vulnerability of the question catching in your throat. “Like things are too good, and maybe it won’t last?”

He’s quiet for a moment, as if he’s considering your words, and then he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I used to,” he admits. “But then I realized that waiting for something to go wrong just robs you of all the good things you’ve got right here, right now.”

You nod, letting his words sink in. He has a way of grounding you, of making the fears that once felt so overwhelming seem smaller, more manageable.

“Look,” he says, pulling back slightly so he can look into your eyes, “I know you still have walls up baby, I know you’ve been through things I can’t even imagine. But none of that changes how I feel about you. You’re it for me sweet heart"

The sincerity in his eyes makes your heart race, and you feel that familiar warmth, that sense of safety you’ve come to cherish with him. You open your mouth to respond, but he reaches out, crashes his lips to yours, as his lips meet yours, everything else fades away. The quiet of the night, the cool breeze, the blanket wrapped around you both—none of it matters except the feel of him, warm and steady and here. His hand cradles the back of your head, gentle yet certain, as if he’s savoring this moment just as much as you are. There’s a tender urgency in the way he kisses you, a depth of feeling that words could never fully capture.

His other hand moves to your waist, pulling you even closer, and you find yourself letting go, allowing the barriers you’ve held up for so long to slip away. In his arms, every lingering fear, every shadow of doubt feels smaller, quieter. He’s the one constant you never thought you’d find, and here, beneath the blanket of stars, you feel safe enough to let him see all of you.

You run your hands along his shoulders, feeling the strength there, the solidity, as if to reassure yourself that he’s real, that he’s yours. He senses the hesitation in your touch and gently deepens the kiss, pouring his own quiet reassurance into each soft brush of his lips against yours. He’s unhurried, savoring the closeness, the warmth shared between you, as if he has all the time in the world.

When you finally pull back to catch your breath, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes soft and full of that familiar warmth that’s always steadied you. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering as he looks at you, his gaze tender and unguarded.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp. “I hope you know that.”

Your heart swells, and you can’t help but reach up, your fingers tracing his jaw, memorizing the lines of his face. “I do,” you whisper, smiling as you take in the love shining in his eyes. “And you’re everything to me, too.”

The moment is gentle, intimate, a quiet affirmation of all that you’ve come to mean to each other. As the night drifts on, you find yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, exchanging soft kisses and whispered promises, the world around you falling away until it’s just you and him, together in the safe haven you’ve created.

---

It isn’t until months later, on a quiet afternoon in your small apartment, that you realize how much he’s changed you. You’re both in the kitchen, making dinner, when he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. In that moment, feeling the solid warmth of him, something inside you finally softens, and you feel that long-buried fear of love start to melt away.

Turning around to face him, you look into his eyes, your heart pounding but steady. “You’re… you’re home,” you say softly, finally daring to voice the truth you’ve been feeling for so long.

Bucky smiles, and it’s the warmest, most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. “And so are you,” he murmurs, brushing a gentle kiss across your forehead. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

As you lean into him, you feel a deep sense of peace—a peace that tells you love doesn’t have to be perfect to be real, that sometimes, it’s okay to let yourself be someone else’s. And for the first time, you let yourself believe that you can be loved without fear.

In his arms, you know that no matter where life takes you, he’ll always be there, steady as ever, reminding you every day that you’re his, and he’s yours.

The soft simmering of the pot on the stove fades into the background as you hold each other in the kitchen, wrapped in a quiet warmth that feels like it’s seeped into every corner of your life together. The room is filled with the comforting scent of herbs and spices, but all you can focus on is him—his arms around you, his steady breathing, the familiar warmth of his presence.

You look up at him, and there’s a softness in his eyes, a light you’ve come to recognize as the kind of love that expects nothing but offers everything.

“I don’t know if I tell you this enough,” he murmurs, running his fingers gently along your back. “But you… you make me feel whole. Like I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

His words settle over you like a balm, soothing any lingering fear you still carry. There’s a deep sincerity in his gaze, a warmth that has become your comfort, your safety. You feel your heart swell, a surge of gratitude that he’s here, that he chose you even with all the jagged edges you thought would push people away.

“Bucky,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “I never thought I’d find this. Find… you.”

He smiles, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to trust me. But you’re everything I ever wanted… everything I never thought I deserved.”

You laugh softly, the sound breaking through the quiet as you realize how much he’s come to mean to you, how he’s become the constant in your life, the calm in your storms. “You deserve all of it, love....Every bit of happiness there is.”

His eyes soften, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, lingering as if he’s savoring the moment, as if he’s savoring you. “Then stay with me,” he whispers, his voice low and full of emotion. “For as long as we have… let’s make this our forever.”

Your heart races as his words sink in, and you feel a warmth bloom within you, a peace that you’ve only known with him. The future, once clouded by fear and doubt, now feels open, full of possibility, and you realize that with him, you’re no longer afraid of what lies ahead.

You take his hands in yours, feeling the roughness of his palms, the strength that’s always there, supporting you. “I’m not going anywhere,” you say, looking up into his eyes. “I’m yours, Bucky. Completely.”

He smiles, a look of relief mixed with pure joy lighting up his face, and he pulls you close, his arms wrapped securely around you as he holds you like he never intends to let go.

“I’ll remind you of that every day,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice a soft promise. “You’re mine. And I love you… more than I could ever put into words.”

In that quiet moment, held close in his arms, you feel it—this deep, steady love that you never believed could be yours. And you know, as long as you have him, you are finally, truly home.

Bucky’s arms wrap around you a little tighter, pulling you closer, and in his embrace, you feel every ounce of love and devotion he’s offered you so freely. His hands rest at the small of your back, gentle but firm, grounding you. The simmering sounds from the stove fade into the background as he holds you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you in this shared moment.

He dips his head, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that’s unhurried, tender, but filled with an intensity that leaves you breathless. His hand moves to cradle your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle path along your jawline, a soft reverence in his touch, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

You feel the roughness of his palms as his hands settle along your waist, his fingers splaying across your back, drawing you even closer. The air between you feels charged, a steady, simmering warmth that’s both comforting and thrilling. You let your fingers trail up his shoulders, feeling the strength and warmth there, feeling safe and cherished.

“Bucky,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you lean into him, pressing soft kisses along his jawline, savoring the way his breathing hitches ever so slightly at your touch.

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in the best way. “You’re everything,” he whispers, his forehead resting gently against yours as he closes his eyes, breathing you in. “Everything I never knew I could have.”

---

A few months later, everything feels like it’s slipping out of your hands. Work is stressful, you’ve hardly had a moment to yourself let alone with Bucky, and the anxieties that you thought you’d buried start creeping back in, tainting every small moment of happiness with doubt. Bucky notices, of course. He’s always paying attention, always picking up on the little things.

After a long, exhausting day, you come home and find him waiting for you in your small, cluttered living room. He’s made dinner, and the smell of pasta fills the apartment, a small act of love that you know he did just to make you feel better.

But instead of feeling grateful, all you feel is overwhelmed.

As you set your bag down, you glance at him, trying to ignore the pressure building in your chest. “You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended. “I don’t need you to take care of me all the time, i can do it myself!"

He blinks, taken aback by the edge in your tone. “I know you can baby, ” he says carefully. “I just wanted to make things a little easier tonight"

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t need you to!” you snap, unable to hold back the frustration boiling over inside. “I’m fine on my own....I’ve always been fine on my own!"

Bucky’s face falls, and he sets down the plate he was holding, his gaze steady but pained. “Where’s this coming from?” he asks quietly.

You don’t know how to answer, not when everything feels so confusing and raw. “Maybe… maybe we were a mistake,” you murmur, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “Maybe we got too close too fast.”

His jaw clenches, hurt flashing across his face. “Do you really mean that?” His voice is low, almost breaking. “Or are you just scared?”

The question hits you like a punch to the gut, because he’s right. You are scared—scared of getting hurt, scared of being vulnerable, and scared of what it means to love someone so deeply. And yet, instead of admitting it, you double down, pushing him further away.

“What if I am scared, Bucky?” you snap, crossing your arms. “Maybe I don’t want to put myself through this. People always leave, and were in so deep! I, I’m just—” You stop, your voice catching as the memories of your parents’ fights come rushing back, the anger, the silence, the way love had turned to something dark and painful.

Bucky steps forward, his expression softened but resolute. “I’m not your Father, we're not your parents” he says, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m not going to walk away just because things get hard.”

You turn away, trying to hide the tears that have started to well up. “How can you say that? You don’t know… what it was like.”

He takes a breath, his hand reaching out to yours, fingers warm and steady around yours. “Then tell me,” he says, his voice steady but full of emotion. “Help me understand, so I can be here for you the way you need.”

The walls you’ve built around your heart feel like they’re crumbling, and you struggle to keep them in place, to hold onto the safety they give you. But Bucky’s still there, holding your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

With a shaky breath, you finally let go, everything you've been keeping inside for the last couple weeks pours out of you, your eyes like waterfalls. Bucky has his arms wrapped around faster than you could wipe your tears away. His grip firm, as he rubs circles on your back. Holding you close, and you feel the weight of his presence, grounding you, filling the empty spaces with a warmth you were about to let yourself lose.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs softly, his fingers brushing soothingly along your back. “No matter how scared you get, I’m here. You’re not alone, you’re worth it, i promise angel”

You pull back, looking up at him, feeling the truth of his words sink into you. The fear is still there, lingering around the edges, but somehow it feels smaller now, less overwhelming.

As you hold his gaze, you realize that this—this moment, where you’re both standing on the edge of your fears and still choosing each other—is what love is meant to be. It’s not about perfection or never fighting. It’s about standing together, even when things get messy, even when it feels like everything is falling apart.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean it, ant of it Bucky I’m just… scared of losing you.”

He smiles, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Then hold onto me,” he says softly “Because I’m not letting you go"

---

Bucky has been working long hours lately, pulling extra shifts and coming home exhausted. You’ve noticed how he’s barely had a moment to breathe, how he comes home later every night, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes as he falls onto the couch. You’ve asked him if everything’s okay, and every time, he just smiles, brushes a kiss across your forehead, and says he’s fine, just a little busy.

What you don’t know is that Bucky’s been saving up for something big, something he’s been dreaming about since the day he realized he couldn’t imagine a life without you. He’s been setting aside every extra dollar to buy you a ring, one that feels worthy of you. But between work and stress, his nerves are stretched thin, and even though he tries to be patient, exhaustion is starting to get the better of him.

You come home from work and find him in the kitchen, staring blankly at a half-prepared dinner, his face worn and tired. You reach out to touch his arm, concerned. “Bucky, you don’t have to do everything, you know. I could’ve picked something up.”

He doesn’t look at you, just sighs, his voice tense. “I’m fine doll, I can handle it.”

You press a little further, sensing something beneath his words. “Are you sure? You’ve been so… distant lately. I just feel like we barely talk anymore.”

Bucky’s shoulders stiffen, and he glances over at you, a flicker of frustration in his gaze. “I don’t get why you’re always questioning me,” he snaps, voice sharper than usual. “I’m here, aren’t I? It’s not like I’m going anywhere, i've told you"

You flinch at his words, feeling a familiar ache settle in your chest. “I’m not… I just don’t understand why you’re shutting me out.”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. “I’m not shutting you out, alright? Not everything has to be a big deal.”

The words feel dismissive, and something inside you snaps, the old fears rising up. “I just… I need to know what’s going on, Bucky, you know this, I-I....You say you’re here, but it doesn’t feel like it right now, It’s like you’re already halfway gone already..."

The moment you say it, his expression changes, a spark of hurt flashing across his face. “Are you serious?” he asks, his tone suddenly defensive. “I’ve been working myself to the bone for us, trying to make things better. I’m here every night, putting in the effort, and you’re just waiting for me to mess up. Waiting for an excuse to push me away! "

Your breath catches, his words cutting deeper than you expected. “That’s not fair,” you say, voice trembling. “You know why I have a hard time trusting people, why I get scared. You’re the one who made me feel safe again. And now it’s like… it’s like you’re proving me right.”

He looks away, jaw clenched, but the frustration and exhaustion finally get the better of him. “Maybe I don’t know how to prove it to you, then,” he mutters, anger shading his words. “I don’t know what more you need from me!"

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, and suddenly the air feels too thick, the walls of your house are suddenly too close. Without thinking, you grab your coat, needing to escape the pain before it breaks you completely.

“Where are you going?” he calls after you, the anger giving way to worry as he realizes you’re actually leaving. “It’s 2:30AM! Y-you cant just walk out!

You pause at the door, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look back at him, the hurt and fear finally spilling over“I’m leaving before you leave me,” you choke out, your voice barely a whisper. “I told you would! Everyone always does.”

With that, you slip out the door, stepping into the quiet, empty street. You start walking, the chill of the night biting into your skin as you try to hold back the tears. The memory of his words lingers, replaying in your mind, amplifying every insecurity you’ve ever felt.

But then you hear footsteps behind you, and before you can turn, Bucky’s voice reaches you, a soft, desperate sound. “Wait, Baby please, just… stop for a second"

You hesitate, swallowing down the sob that’s caught in your throat as he steps closer, his face a mix of regret and something you can’t name. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, his voice breaking slightly, his own tears spilling over “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You take a shaky breath, your voice full of the hurt you can’t hide. “You’re right, though. I don’t know how to believe you’ll stay. I can’t get rid of this feeling that you’ll change your mind.”

He closes the gap between you, his gaze softening as he reaches out, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Hey,” he whispers, his voice gentle, grounding. “I’m not going anywhere. You know why I’ve been working so much?”

You shake your head, your mind still reeling.

He lets out a deep breath, pulling something from his pocket, a small, worn ring box. “This...This is why I’ve been putting in those hours. Because I want to be with you, forever....For good.”

You stare at the box in his hand, the realization washing over you like a wave. Bucky steps closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been saving up to buy you a ring. Because all I want is a life with you. No running, no more fears. Just us...till death do us part and all..."

The words sink in, and your heart feels like it’s breaking open and mending at the same time. “Bucky, I… I didn’t know.”

“I know, you weren't suppose to sweet girl” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. “I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. I was just… scared, too. Scared that maybe you’d never really believe I’d stay or be too scared to stay yourself.."

You cling to him, feeling the warmth of his embrace seep into you, grounding you. For the first time, you let yourself feel the truth in his words, the steady, unyielding love he’s shown you all along.

As he holds you in the quiet of the night, you finally feel something shift deep inside, a sense of peace replacing the old fears. And as you look up into his blue eyes, you know, without a doubt, that this is what home looks like.

Bucky holds you close, his arms wrapped around you as you both stand on the empty street, the quiet stillness of the night surrounding you. You can feel the steady beat of his heart as he holds you, each thump anchoring you back into the moment, reminding you of everything he’s done to show you he’s here to stay.

After a few moments, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze soft and full of a warmth that nearly takes your breath away. He glances down at the small ring box in his hand, then back up at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I was planning this whole big thing, you know,” he says, a soft laugh escaping him as he looks at you, his eyes bright with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in the best way. “A perfect night, the right words… I wanted it to be special. Because you deserve that, you deserve everything.”

Your breath catches, your eyes filling with tears again, but this time they’re tears of joy, of a hope that’s finally free of the shadows that used to hold you back.

“But somehow,” he continues, his thumb brushing softly across your cheek, “this feels right. Standing here with you, just… us, no walls, no fears.”

Slowly, Bucky lowers himself down onto one knee, opening the small ring box to reveal a simple but beautiful ring that catches the glow of the streetlight. His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, his voice thick with emotion.

“I know we’ve both been through a lot, and I know we’ve still got our fears,” he says, his voice barely a whisper, each word carrying the weight of everything he feels. “But there’s no one else I’d rather face them with. You’re it for me. You’re my home, my everything.”

He takes a steadying breath, his gaze unwavering as he holds the ring up to you. “Will you marry me? Will you let me spend the rest of my life proving to you that I’m never going to leave?”

You feel the tears spill over, but this time you don’t bother wiping them away. Nodding, you barely manage to whisper, the easiest words you ever said before “Yes...Yes, Bucky, I’ll marry you"

A bright smile breaks across his face as he slips the ring onto your finger, then rises to his feet, pulling you back into his arms. He kisses you softly, a lingering kiss filled with every unspoken promise between you "I love you Bucky Barnes"

As he pulls back, his eyes meet yours, a smile playing on his lips. "And I love you, forever" he whispers, his voice filled with warmth and certainty. “You’re the best thing that's ever been mine,”

[daisymbin]

secrets to a furball! - moon junhui

warnings: none!

pairings: moon junhui x reader

genre: a tipsy moon junhui &....a cat

wc: 1k

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

a rowdy night evolved into a night of peaceful quiet as you half carry a very tipsy jun back to your apartment where he’d insisted on coming just to see your cat. “i swear, i just need to say hi to him,” he’d grumbled with a pout as you’d guided him gently inside.

your cat perked up as you settled jun on the couch, its tail flicking lazily as it watched him with mild curiosity. “stay put,” you said softly, trying not to laugh at how adorably determined jun looked. “i’m grabbing you some water and painkillers.”

he nodded, his gaze already focused on your cat with a warm, tipsy smile. you were only gone a few moments, but when you came back to the living room, you stopped just short of the doorway, his familiar murmuring voice reaching your ears. and this time, the words he was saying in mandarin sent a spark of surprise through you.

ever since he’d learned you had a gotten a kitten, jun had taken to talking to the little fluffball in mandarin, laughingly explaining that it was never too early for anyone to learn a second language; even if that someone was a cat. he’d joke about how one day, your cat would probably start meowing back in perfect chinese.

and so, with minghao’s help, you’d secretly been learning mandarin too. you’d told yourself it was just so you could understand what jun was saying to your cat; those playful, soft words that were spoken just for the two of them. but over time, you realized just how much you’d wanted to understand him, not just in language, but in every way possible.

"你知道我有多喜欢她吗?" ("do you know how much i like her?") he asked, his tone barely above a whisper, like he was confessing to your cat something he’d kept hidden from the rest of the world.

your heart skipped a beat. you hadn’t expected anything serious & certainly not this.

your cat blinked, uninterested, but jun continued, undeterred. "我每次看到她," he murmured, "我心真的跳得很快” ("every time I look at her, my heart beats so fast.")

you stilled, holding your breath as he sighed, his words full of a longing he’d never shared with you. it was like he’d poured every ounce of his heart into the drunken confession to this tiny, unimpressed audience of one.

“我喜欢她 喜欢到快要疯了,” ("i like her so much i’m going crazy.") he mumbled, his tone lighthearted but with a hint of something sadder under it, almost like he was trying to laugh off his own confession, whispering it to your cat as if it was some silly secret.

you swallowed, trying to keep your expression neutral as you stepped back into the room and set the water down in front of him. “talking to my cat again?” you asked, slipping into a teasing tone to hide the way your heart was racing.

jun jumped slightly, turning to you with wide eyes and a sheepish laugh. “oh, yeah, just…practicing mandarin with him,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy grin.

“you’re so dedicated,” you replied, smiling as you took a seat beside him. “my cat is very lucky to have you as his teacher.”

jun laughed softly, rubbing his eyes like he was trying to shake off his own embarrassment. “well, he’s a good listener,” he joked, glancing away as if trying to hide his own vulnerability. “doesn’t judge me… or my silly, terrible secrets.”

"oh?” you murmured, tilting your head. “and what kind of secrets would you be telling him?"

he stiffened, his fingers stilling mid-scratch on the cat’s head. "just… silly…terrible…things. nothing important." he repeated, not letting up.

but the way he avoided your gaze, the way his hand trembled just slightly, told you otherwise.

“you know, jun,” you said softly, your gaze fixed on him, “sometimes it’s easier to tell a friend than a cat.”

his gaze flickered to yours, a hint of hope mingling with the apprehension in his eyes. he swallowed, his throat bobbing as he seemed to consider it, his usual playful confidence nowhere to be found.

“i just…” he trailed off, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the room’s stillness. “i guess I'm just scared.”

“if I tell you a secret, will you tell me yourself what you told my cat?”

“that depends on if your secret holds the same value as mine,” he laughed, “what if you tell me a silly secret like….you just farted or something?”

it's always so easy with jun, laughing like this at midnight, “no i didnt just fart you dork! my secret is that....i've been learning mandarin from minghao for the past 8 months....& that i also heard what you said to my cat.”

he froze, the color draining from his face as realization dawned. his mouth opened slightly before closing again, his gaze shifting as he processed your words. slowly, he met your eyes, the unspoken confession hanging between you.

“you heard all of that?” he whispered, his face a mix of shock and something else, something deeper.

“i did,” you said softly, leaning closer. “& if you asked me, I don't think your secret is silly or terrible at all.”

jun blinked, a slow smile breaking through his shock as he processed your words, the last of his shyness melted away. “you really think so?” he asked as he reached for your hand, his fingers warm and tentative as they curled around yours. “if your secret is silly & terrible, then mine is too.”

[lailols]

Kai's Pretty Girlfriend [1]: Step One

Hueningkai x Reader, eventual OT5 x Reader

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), hyuka is a little mean but in a sweet way?, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dom hyuka, sub reader, unprotected sex, a bit of dub con (peeping toms and doing the deed with a 'sleeping' person nearby), a bit of kink negotiation

Kai thinks, all things considered, he started off the plan subtle enough. If having you sit so prettily on your knees for him in the living room can be considered subtle. To be fair, the dorm is currently empty. He didn't even really plan to start it today, just wanted to feel your mouth around him instead of watching the anime you put on. But, progress waits on no man, or whatever the saying is.

"You're always so good for me, sweetie," He says petting your head. "Letting me use your mouth in the living room when anyone can walk in."

He watches you for a reaction, but you have none. Hm. He's not too surprised. You always get a little floaty when you've got him in your mouth. Usually, he's content to let you work your magic. Letting you lick and kiss around him at the start before lowering yourself onto him while fondling his balls. But today he has a goal in mind. So he pulls your hair to get you off him and tries again.

"Baby, I'm talking to you." He says with that gentle reprimanding tone. "Aren't you going to listen to me?"

"'m sorry Kai." You look up at him with wide eyes, pawing at his thighs and refraining from taking him back inside your mouth.

"It's okay, baby." He says, pulling your hair again just to get a reaction. And a reaction, he gets. Sweet tears pool in your eyes at the smallest pain. "I know you get a little dumb when you have a cock in front of you."

"Wha-" You sniffle. "What'd you say?"

"I said that you're so good for letting me use your mouth when anyone could walk in."

"It's okay, I trust you." Is your only reply. And while it does warm Kai's heart that you have such unwavering trust in him, it wasn't quite the reaction he was hoping for. He just hums at your answer and guides you back down his length, sighing in pleasure when you gag from taking too much but don't pull away.

He holds you there for a bit and then lets you continue on your own. His feels a tingle of pride (and pleasure) when you manage to take him all the way down despite the diffculty. He thrusts a bit just to see you struggle and wipes the tears from your face, cooing at you.

"So good, baby." He purrs. "You'll take everything I give to you, right?"

You hum in agreement and then stop moving, letting Kai thrust as he wishes and gulping down his load when he finishes. He pulls you back up to wipe the drool and tears from your face and then returns the favor to you afterward. The guys don't get home until you're both cuddled up on the couch a while later (sadly). He doesn't let this first (semi) fail deter him though.

<3

The second time is kind of subtle and also an accident. He completely forgot that Yeonjun was going to return his charger to him since he used it after leaving his at the company. But can you really blame him when his attention is on the pretty girl spread out on his lap for him to use as he wants? He's only human.

Only human but right about now, you wouldn't be surprised if he were a devil cosplaying as an angel. He has his legs hooked over yours to keep you spread out for him. Giving him all the space he needs to abuse your pussy. He does this every so often, doing these 'checkups' which really just means he wants to finger you until you pass out or he has to stop before Taehyun comes back into the room, whichever comes first.

You've had two? three? orgasms already and you're currently crying with your head leaned back onto his shoulder. He always likes to push how much he can get out of you before you tap out, but you never do. It's really your fault if you really think about it. You trust Kai with your heart and body so fully, he gets a little drunk on the power you so willingly give him.

He's currently pumping two fingers into you roughly while his thumb makes a home on your clit. His other hand playing with your sore nipples. You sound oh so pretty with your little whimpers from his constant abuse. He almost doesn't notice the crack in the door getting wider, almost.

He tries to not let it show that he knows someone's there but quickly takes this in stride like the sign from heaven that it is and starts rambling. "My pretty girl, so dumb already and I haven't even put my dick in you yet." He presses a kiss to your neck. "What am I gonna do with you, hm?"

You can't even respond just shifting your head to meet his lips in a kiss before you pull away to let out some more moans.

"Sweet thing, you're being so loud." He gently reprimands, though he quickens his pace. "It's almost like you want someone to come see me take you apart like this."

The only thing you can get out is little 'ahs'. Pretty head filled with nothing but fluff as you let Kai break you down to nothing knowing he'll put you back together again later. You continue on like that until you're nearly on the edge, then you can muster some words. Only because you know that if you don't ask, Kai won't let you finish.

"Kai! Hyu-Hyuka! 'm gonna come!" You cry out. "Please, please, let me. I've been so good. Please."

"Hmmm, I don't know." Kai pretends to contemplate before he look to the door to meet Yeonjun's eyes. "What do you think?"

You, obviously, take it as Kai asking you and hurry to babble out pleas, but Yeonjun's eyes widen and he hesitates on a step. Kai tilts his head and pouts while asking again, "Should I?"

A slight nod from Jun is all it takes for Kai to bring his hand down from where it was toying with your nipple to smack your clit. You promptly jerk and come with a shout, whimpers starting up again when he doesn't stop his assault on your poor cunt.

"Please! Too much!" You cry, your hips bucking not knowing if you want more or want to get away. He pins you down with his free arm, continuing his motions.

"One more, baby," Kai says with another kiss on your neck. "Give me one more and we'll be all done, okay? I know you can."

It takes barely a swipe to your clit for you to let go one more time, completely slumped against Kai as you catch your breath. When Kai looks to the door again, Yeonjun is gone but his charger is left resting in the gap.

<3

The third time really is an accident and is definitely not subtle at all. He makes it back from a long day of filming with the guys and just wants to sleep. He went into his room to find you asleep on his bed and smiled, leaving a kiss on your head. He sits in his chair while the others are in the shower, and when Taehyun returns he gets up to go take his own.

He intended to come back and pull you to his chest to get some sleep like his roommate is but the minute he lifts the covers that thought leaves his head. Honestly, all thoughts leave his head. You're not even wearing anything particularly sexy. Just one of his shirts and some panties. Maybe he just thinks you're sexy. Yeah, that sounds right.

He should be used to this, you wear this all the time when you sleep over, but every time he sees you like this it feels like the first time. Can you really blame him? Is it so wrong to be so in love that he gets a boner in both his heart and his dick when he sees you wearing his clothes? He doesn't think so.

He's about to relinquish himself to the shower to rub a quick one out when you flip over as if you sensed him and smile sleepily. What was he meant to do after that? Not have his way with you? Be serious.

"Oh, sweetie, you've gotta be quiet, remember?" Kai reminds you, looking up with a mocking pout. "Tyunnie's gonna hear you if you keep being so loud."

"Sorry- 'm sorry Kai." You whimper, stopping your movements above him. "You just feel so good."

"I know, baby." He says squeezing your hips once, twice, spurring you back in motion. "Should I help you out?" One of his hands travels from your hips to your mouth tapping. You don't resist him slipping two fingers inside. You never do. You don't think you can.

You should've known that Kai wasn't that sweet. Even though he looks at you with a soft smile and prods oh so gently at your tongue, at first. Just when you think he's going to leave his fingers there to muffle your sounds, he slips his fingers in further, further and suddenly you're gagging around them.

"Sweet thing, that's not quiet." He tuts at you as if he didn't cause your reaction. "It's almost as if you want him to hear."

You whimper, clenching around him.

"Oh? Isn't that something?" He smirks at you, removing his fingers from your mouth to cradle your cheek, making sure he leaves a mess behind. "You want Tyunnie to hear you using me for your pleasure, hm? Wanna show him how good you can be?"

You nod and then quickly fix your mistake, whispering a yes.

"I can't hear you, baby." He moves his grip to your throat to pull you so you're chest to chest. "Can you say that again?"

"Yes." You say burying your face into his neck. He's quick to pull you up and tsks at you in disappointment.

"Can you say it for me? You're not so cock drunk that you can't talk to me, are you?" He knows how you react to his words- how you react to him. How can he expect this? Tears well up in your eyes.

"I- I want Tyun to hear us. Wan-" You choke around a sob. "Wan' him to hear me."

And oh, he likes the sound of that a bit too much. Kai knows that it was his goal to get this to happen, to get you to admit your desires but he didn't think it would rile him up as much as it does. He gives you a smirk and pulls out to switch positions, shoving you face-first into the mattress so he can show you how that makes him feel.

"Let's give him a show then, yeah?"

Everything happens so fast from there. You know that Kai said he wanted to give Tae a show but you wouldn't be surprised if everyone in the building could hear you. The sound of his hips hitting yours and your moans reverberate around the room, and you'd be more embarrassed if you weren't getting the best fuck of your life right now.

You can't really focus on anything, but Kai can. And if he sees some odd movements under his friend and roommate's blanket, then that's no one's business but his.

<3

Kai should've expected you to catch on sooner or later. You guys are on the same wavelength most of the time and being together four years means you've explored a lot of kinks with each other. Hell, you took each other's virginity and shaped the other into something of a perfect bedroom partner. So whenever you want to try something new, there's usually a lot of talk beforehand. Kai springing out with a new kink is not unheard of, but the fact that he hasn't talked about it was ringing some bells, so you sit him down.

"So...." You start off standing in front of him.

"So...?" He leads shifting a bit on his bed to get comfortable. "What's up? Why does this feel like an interrogation?"

"It's not, don't worry," You say with a smile. "I just wanted to talk."

"Talk about?" Kai probes again, tilting his head.

"Well," You move over to sit next to him. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"Not particularly, no." He turns to face you and you do the same.

"Okay, well, recently you've been saying some things while we, y'know." You're fumbling. It's not your fault though! Kai usually leads these conversations and you don't really know how to approach it without wanting the Earth to open up and swallow you.

"Yeah? Like what?" He asks trying to hold back a smile. Now you know he's just being a little asshole.

"Y'know, saying things about people walking in on us or watching us while we, y'know."

"I have, does that make you uncomfortable?" He asks seriously.

"No, it doesn't. I just never knew you were into that." To be fair he didn't either, but learning that your friends want to fuck and possibly date your girlfriend changes a man.

"Let's just say it was a recent development. How do you feel about it?"

"I think it's kind of... hot?" You start out strong but pull back into a whisper.

"Really?" Kai asks excitedly.

"Yeah. I like the idea of people knowing how good you make me feel. How good we make each other feel."

"So you're down to try out some things with me?"

"Of course I am, if I wasn't I would've talked to you about it before."

"That's my girl." Kai cheers inside of his head. Step One is a success! And if he celebrates by fucking you six ways to Sunday, no one can blame him. It's hard work to bring six people together, he deserves a reward, alright?

And with that step one is a wrap! Hopefully, you liked it! I've never written smut before but I tried my best! I'm currently still brainstorming for chapter 2 but chapter 3 is like 80% done.

How do you think the guys will react to this change? We know Kai sucks at it but will he try and be subtle again? Or as subtle as you can be while fucking your girlfriend in a house with four other guys.

[xosamioo]

“𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮”

Paring: riki x younger reader

Rating: 18+ explicit and mature content, smut and angst

Content warnings: NSFW age gap reader just turned 18 and ni-ki is 20 unprotected sex car

Summary: 18yrs y/n has a crush on her older brother's best friend, 20yrs Riki. y/n can't help but stare at Riki when he's over. Does he notice? Who knows...

WC: 3.2k

Authors note: 🔞This story is fiction and does not reflect the personalities or desires of those it is written about. This story has some scenes that may be uncomfortable for some readers, read at your own risk.

You were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone and trying to decide what to do. Your older brother had brought his friend Riki over and they had been hanging out in his room doing god knows what Normally you would ignore them and do something by yourself but you had developed a crush on Riki. You tried to ignore it, knowing that it was completely off-limits considering he was my brother's best friend and he was older than me but he was so hot.

And to make matters worse, he was always wearing tank tops. Ugh, you couldn't help but stare at his arms and collarbones. You could feel myself getting hot and you needed some air. That's when I heard the door open.

Your brother walked right by the couch without saying anything. Riki followed shortly after and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He was wearing a grey tank top and some jeans and I couldn't help but stare. He took a drink of his water and my eyes drifted to his Adam's apple. He finished and set the bottle on the counter, letting out a sigh. You looked away and continued to scroll on your phone and he sat down next to you on the couch and looked at you. "Hey," he said ruffling your hair "Hey," you reply, trying to sound nonchalant. It was difficult with him so close, especially since his arm kept brushing against your shoulder. Ugh, even his voice was incredibly deep and attractive. "What are you doing?" he asked, leaning forward a bit to look at your phone. "Just scrolling on my phone," you replied, still trying to act casual. "Anything interesting?" Riki asked, leaning even closer and looking at your phone. You could feel the warmth of his body and smell his cologne. It was making it very difficult to form a coherent thought. "Uh, not really," you mumbled, quickly switching to a different app. Riki nodded and leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms above his head. You couldn't help but steal a glance and notice the way his shirt rode up, exposing his toned stomach.

Ugh, this was torture. He seemed completely oblivious to the effect he was having on you, meanwhile, you were a mess. Your mind was racing and the warm and wet feeling between your thighs was not helping either causing you to squeeze them together. You needed to get out of the room before you did something stupid. But just as you were about to get up, Riki spoke again. "Hey, where are you going?" he said, looking over at you. You froze turning around "Oh, uh, I just wanted to get some fresh air," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. Riki nodded and stood up, stretching again, and your eyes lingered on his abs for maybe a second too long. He noticed and raised an eyebrow at you. "Are you sure you're okay? You're acting kinda weird," he asked, looking concerned. "I'm fine, just hot," you answered, fidgeting with your phone and hoping he'd believe you. "Yeah, it is kinda warm in here," Riki said, nodding in agreement. He took another sip of his water and you couldn't help but watch him swallow, mesmerized by the way his throat moved. You were seriously losing it. "You know, you've grown up a lot. I still remember how small you were when your brother first introduced you to me." he said putting his water down "Yeah, I guess I have," you nodded, trying to keep up the conversation without giving away your current thoughts. Riki smiled stretching yet again causing you to bite your lip. "Well, you aren't a little kid anymore," he said, looking you up and down. "Yeah, I'm 18 now..." You answered, meeting his gaze. There was a moment of silence as you both stared at each other before Riki cleared his throat. "Anyway, your brother wants me to stay for dinner I should go see what your brother is doing," he said, breaking the tension and walking towards your brother's room. You sat there for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart. This was going to be a long day. After a few minutes of calming yourself down, you decided that you needed a shower and headed to your room. You turned the water on, hoping it would ease the tension you were feeling. As you stepped into the hot water, you couldn't help but let your mind wander back to Riki. His arms, his abs, his voice... You needed to do something about these feelings before they drove you insane. You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of your brother yelling to you that dinner was ready and headed to the kitchen. As you walked in, you noticed Riki sitting at the table, deep in conversation with your brother. You took a seat next to them and waited for dinner to be served.

During dinner, you made an effort to engage in the conversation, but your attention kept drifting back to Riki. You weren't sure how much longer you could keep this up, especially as Riki's arm kept brushing against yours as he reached for the food. Finally, dinner was over, and your brother headed out with his girlfriend for a few minutes. She must have left something in his room. Whatever. Leaving you and Riki alone. You helped Riki clean up and put away the leftovers, stealing glances at him the entire time. You were both quiet, but the tension between you was palpable. As you put the last dish away, you turned to face Riki, who was standing close to you. "So..." you began, unsure of what to say. Riki looked at you, his eyes intense. "You've been acting strange today," he said, taking a step closer to you. "I don't know what you mean," you replied, your heart racing. Riki took another step closer, practically looming over you. "Don't play dumb," he said, his voice low. "I saw the way you were looking at me." You couldn't deny it any longer, you were caught. "Okay, I may have been looking at you a little bit," you admitted, your body growing hot. Riki leaned in even closer, his face just inches from yours. "And why is that?" he asked, his voice a whisper. You could feel his breath on your face, making your heart race even more. "I...I find you attractive," you look him in the eyes. There was a moment of silence before Riki spoke again. "Is that so?" he said, a sly smile spreading across his face. You nodded, feeling your body grow even more heated. He took your face in his hands. "Well, I have to be honest, I've noticed how much you've grown up..." he said, his eyes raking over your body.

You couldn't believe what was happening, it was almost like a dream. "Oh yeah? And what do you think?" you asked, your voice barely audible. Riki smirked, his hands still holding your face. "I think you're more than just a cute little kid now," he replied, his tone suggestive. You were feeling braver now, encouraged by his admission. "I don't think you're so bad yourself..." you said, running your hands over his arms, feeling the muscles. Riki chuckled, moving his hands from your face down to your hips. "Mhm," you hummed, moving in closer, your bodies now pressed together. "You know, I never thought you'd be this bold," Riki said, his hands still on your hips, thumbs rubbing gentle circles. You could feel his thumbs on your bare skin from where your shirt had ridden up. "There's a first time for everything," you replied, your voice low.

Riki smiled, moving one of his hands from your hips to tilt your chin up. "That's true," he said, leaning in. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. The kiss was soft at first, but quickly grew more intense, both of you trying to get as close as possible. You wound your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, while his hands continued to roam your body, occasionally gripping you tightly. As the kiss deepened, you moaned softly, the sound barely audible. Riki moved his mouth to nibble on your neck, his stubble scratching against your skin in a way that made your knees weak. "Riki..." you whispered, your hands roaming over his back, feeling the muscles underneath.

Riki hummed in response, his hands sliding up your sides and under your shirt. "You're so hot and responsive," he murmured against your neck, his fingers toying with the hem of your bra. You moaned again, your hips grinding against him as the heat between your legs grew more intense. "Riki, I-" you started but were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. You both pulled away, trying to compose yourself as your brother walked into the kitchen. "Hey, I'm back," he said, not noticing anything amiss. Riki quickly moved away from you, clearing his throat. "Yeah, we finished cleaning up," he said, his voice a little rough You nodded in agreement, not sure if you could trust your voice at the moment. You could still feel the heat of Riki's touch on your skin, making it difficult to focus on anything else. Your brother seemed oblivious to the tension in the room, simply grabbing a drink from the fridge before heading to his room again. As soon as he was gone, you turned back to Riki, neither of you saying a word for a second. "We should probably talk about what just happened," he said, breaking the silence. You nodded, your heart still racing. "Yeah, we should," you agreed, taking a deep breath. Riki ran a hand through his hair"Look, I don't want to mess things up with your brother or anything," he said, looking at you with a serious expression. You immediately understood what he meant. Your brother was very protective of you, and if he found out about this, it could cause a lot of problems. You nodded, biting your lip "I know, and I don't want that either," you said, your voice serious.

"So, are we just going to pretend like this never happened?" Riki asked, searching your face for an answer.

You couldn't bear the thought of going back to how things were before. "No, I can't do that," you said, your voice firm. "I don't want to stop what we started."

Riki took a step towards you, his expression softening. "Neither do I," he said, taking your face in his hands once again. "But we have to be careful. Your brother can't find out, at least not anytime soon."

You nodded, placing your hands over his.

"your brother would kill me if he knew," Riki said chuckling slightly as he brushed his thumb against your cheek

You laughed softly, leaning into his touch. "yeah, he probably would," you agreed, gazing up at him.

"But..." Riki hesitated, his eyes still on yours "I don't think I can wait much longer to have you." Your breath hitched at his words, your heart beating even faster if possible. "Me too," you whispered, closing your eyes and leaning in closer. Riki closed the distance between you, kissing you deeply, his hands moving to grasp your hips once more. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against him

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the heat between your bodies growing even more intense. Riki's hands moved up and down your sides, tugging on the fabric of your shirt. You moaned into his mouth, your hands raking through his hair. The sound of your brother's voice from his room snapped you both back to reality. "Everything okay in there?" he called out. You both broke away you signed annoyed and sexually frustrated.

"Yeah, everything's fine just cleaning up!" Riki called back, Riki looked down at you, and you had a look of frustration on your face. You both sighed, knowing that you couldn't continue this without being interrupted.

You and Riki shared a look. "We can't keep doing this here," Riki said, running a hand through his hair. You nodded in agreement, still trying to catch your breath. "You're right," you said, trying to compose yourself. "But where else can we go? My brother is home"

Riki thought for a moment, then yelled to your brother telling him that he was taking you to get ice cream. "come on." he grabbed your hand and led you out of the house towards his car.

You followed him, feeling excited and nervous. Riki opened the passenger door for you and helped you inside before getting in the driver's seat. He started the car and drove for a few minutes before pulling into a secluded parking lot.

Once he parked the car, Riki turned to you, his gaze intense. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice low. You nodded, feeling your heart racing once again. "Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Without another word, Riki leaned in and kissed you fiercely, his hands quickly finding your hips. You moaned into his mouth and climbed over sitting on his lap, your hands clutching at his shoulders. The heat between you grew even more intense as you pulled him closer, your bodies pressing together. Riki moaned into your mouth, his hands roaming over your body, as you rocked against him, feeling him hardening beneath you. He broke away from the kiss, his breathing ragged. "We should probably move to the back," he said, his voice low and deep. You nodded, reluctantly climbing off of him and moving to the backseat. Riki followed, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he was in the backseat with you, he pulled you onto his lap once again, his hands roaming under your shirt, feeling your bare skin. You moaned, grinding against him, feeling him pressing against your clothed cunt. His hands moved around to your back, unhooking your bra and sliding it off before tossing it aside. His mouth found its way to your neck once more, nipping and sucking at your skin. Your hands fumbled with the hem of his tank, eventually pushing it off of him.

You ran your hands over his chest and arms, feeling his muscles flexing beneath your touch. Riki's hands were everywhere at once, making you whine and moan You moved to pull off his jeans "Let me," he said, quickly removing his jeans and boxers in one go. You did the same, pulling off your shorts and underwear, feeling the cool air hit your warmth. Riki took you in for a moment. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes raking over your body pulling you back on his lap You smiled at his words, feeling him hard against your leg. You couldn’t get enough of his touch either, your hands explored every inch of his skin as you kissed him fervently. "I need you" you whispered, breaking the kiss. Riki nodded, his breathing ragged. "I know, me too," he mumbled against your lips, kissing you once again. His hands moved to your hips guiding you above him You wasted no time, sinking into him with a moan. Riki groaned gripping your hips tightly, his head falling back against the seat as you fully sucked him in you began to move slowly at first, adjusting to his size. You rode him slowly, his hands guiding your hips. Riki moaned, his eyes fixated on how his cock disappeared inside of you each time you moved your hips down. The windows began to fog up from a combination of your heavy breathing and the heat building up in the car.

You moved faster, riding him with more urgency, both of you moaning and panting "You’re so fucking tight" Riki groaned, running his hands through your hair while you rode him, your hands planted firmly on his chest. The car began to rock with the rhythm of your bodies, You both were lost in the sensation chasing your release. The only sound was the slapping of flesh against flesh and the occasional moan or gasp that escaped between heavy breaths. “Fuck, Riki” you moaned, throwing your head back as you continued to ride him getting closer and closer with each passing moment. Riki’s head was pressed back against the seat, his eyes hooded with pleasure. His hands were firmly planted on your hips, helping to guide your movements.

You were getting close, you could feel it. The tension was building in your belly “Riki- I’m” you gasped out, barely able to form coherent words "I’m close too baby" he said, his grip on your hips tightening as he met your thrusts with his own You could feel him hitting all the right spots, driving you even closer to the edge. Every nerve ending in your body felt alive, sensitive to the slightest touch. Riki's groans grew louder and more urgent, his body becoming more rigid "Fuuuuck" he moaned his grip on your hips getting even tighter. You could feel yourself getting even closer, you were so close "Riki i-"You didn't get to finish, the waves of pleasure crashing over you as you came, your name rolling off of Riki’s lips in the form of a low, guttural groan as he found his release too, his body trembling beneath you. The sound of your and Riki’s moans and heavy breathing filled the car, the windows now completely fogged up from the heat. You collapsed on top of him, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath. Riki wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, feeling your heart racing against his. You stayed like that for a few moments, both of you coming down from the high of your release. Finally, you shifted, sitting up slightly. "fuck..." you murmured still gently running over your back Riki chuckled softly still trying to catch his breath. He kissed the top of your head before reluctantly helping you climb off of him and onto the seat next to him. You both hurriedly put your clothes back on, feeling the cool air against your still-heated skin. When you were both dressed again, you looked at each other, smiling like idiots. Riki ran a hand through his hair, still a little sweaty. "I think we need that ice cream now," he said, smiling at you. You laughed softly and spoke excitedly “Ice cream??”

Riki nodded, starting the car and pulling out of the lot. "yeah, that was the excuse remember? " he said, reaching over to take your hand. He laced your fingers with him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he looked at you you were younger than him and knew that they were taking a huge risk here but he knew he was going to take good care of you. You leaned your head against his shoulder looking up at him….”I want Cookie Monster flavor”

Riki chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "Whatever you want princess," he said, making his way towards the nearest ice cream shop.

—————————————————————————

Authors note: hope you enjoy this story keep a look out for riki x ceo reader 👀

Taglist : @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn @aanniikkaa

@kiliskywalker666 @minlvsjo @rizzimuraraniki @hooneyz-luver @purpleguu @ice-dandan20 @moonpri @nikisannyx @qaaths @rafegf-real

© xosamioo 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[lee-laurent]

Ensnared - Luke Hughes

Summary: There's something suspicious about Luke's new girlfriend

content: swearing, angst, some fluff, supernatural aspects, spooky (a little)

wc: 7.4k

notes: ik i'm a few days late from halloween but i really wanted to put out a supernatural-esque fic for you guys! halloweekend was insane for me so again sorry this is almost a week post-halloween! hope you guys like this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! this is different than my usual stuff but i still love it

The lights were dimmed low in the apartment, the only glow coming from some twinkling fairy lights and candles flickering in jack-o'-lanterns. Luke could feel the music in his chest as he stood near the kitchen counter, nursing a beer. He usually didn't go all out for Halloween, but Jack had insisted he join the team for their party, saying her needed to get out and let loose. They'd even coaxed him into a costume--one of his jerseys and some fake scars on his face, almost too close to his usual look to be considered a costume.

"Lighten up, Lukey!" Jack clapped him on the back, grinning through his over-the-top vampire costume, his girlfriend tucked close to his side. "It's Halloween! Have some fun!"

Luke rolled his eyes, but cracked a smile. He scanned the room lazily, half-focused on all his friends and chaos of laughter and music. He was just about to glance away when he saw her.

She was standing alone, near the edge of the room, and she was... stunning. Her hair spilled over her shoulders like waves, catching the dim light and shimmering in shades that seemed almost impossible--dark but with an almost etheral glow. Her dress, flowing and midnight blue, hugged her figure perfectly, and she moved with a calm, mesmerizing grace that cut through the noise of the crowd.

Their eyes met, and his stomach flipped.

"See something you like, bro?" Jack nudged him, following his gaze, his girlfriend giggling beside him. Luke blinked, snapping out of his trance. He could feel his cheeks heating up, and Jack just laughed, rolling his eyes. "Go talk to her, dude. Looks like she's waiting for someone to notice her."

Luke hesitated, but something inside him urged him forward. He took a deep breath, gripping his drink a little tighter, and started weaving through the crowd until he reached her side. She looked up, her eyes catching his with an intensity that felt magnetic. They were deep and dark, like the ocean at night--bottomless, mysterious, dangerous.

"Hi," he managed, suddenly feeling like he'd forgotten how to form sentences.

A smile played at her lips. "Hi," she replied, her voice smooth and musical, like a song he'd heard once but couldn't quite remember.

For a moment, they just stood there, caught in the haze of the party, but it was like nothing else mattered. Luke felt a strange pull, something unexplainable that made him want to stay rooted there, by her side.

"I'm Luke," his voice sounded breathless even to him.

"Marina." Her named rolled off her tongue like silk, and she extended her hand. When he shook it, her touch was warm, but it sent a chill straight to his core, leaving a strange tingling feeling where their fingers had connected.

"Not much for Halloween parties?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too awkward.

She shrugged, her smile mysterious. "I don't usually come to things like this. But... something told me tonight was worth it."

His pulse quickened. It was probably nothing, but he felt like she was looking right through him, reading him in a way that made him nervous. He shook it off, laughing a little. "Well, welcome to the chaos. It's a bit wild, but it's a good time, I think."

"Chaos isn't always a bad thing," she leaned in a bit closer. "Sometimes it's exactly what we need."

Her words seemed to have a hypnotic effect on him, and he found himself nodding, his gaze locked with hers. Everything in the background faded. He could barely remember what he'd been thinking about just minutes before.

"Luke!" Nico's voice cut through his trance. Luke flinched, snapping his head toward Nico, who was standing with a raised eyebrow, watching the two of them with curiosity. He smiled, but there was a strange look in his eyes, like he'd interrupted something he didn't trust.

"Oh, hey, Nico," Luke blinked, trying to shake off the foggy feeling. He looked back at Marina, but she didn't seem bothered by the interruption. Instead, she just offered Nico a polite smile, tilting her head in acknowledgment.

Nico's eyes flickered between them, lingering a second too long on Marina. "Just checking in, man. You've been a little quiet tonight."

Luke laughed it off, feeling a strange surge of frustration at Nico's interruption, even though he knew his friend was looking out for him. "I'm fine," he said, a little too quickly. "Just... talking."

"Alright. Just wanted to make sure you're good."

Marina's eyes glittered with amusement as Nico walked away, and she turned back to Luke. "Your friend seems... protective."

"He just worries too much," Luke replied, a bit embarrassed.

"Well," she murmured, her voice like a gentle wave lapping at the shoreline, "tonight, you don't have to worry about anything. Just... enjoy yourself."

~~

Luke couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so... alive. As the night went on, the others in the apartment had faded away into blurs, leaving him fully focused on Marina. She seemed just as absorbed in him, her dark eyes watching him with an intensity that made his pulse race.

"So," he attemped a casual smile, "how do you know everyone here?"

A wry smile danced on her lips. "I don't, actually. I just... found my way here." She shrugged one shoulder elegantly, her eyes glinting with a secret he wanted to know. "I suppose I'm just drawn to certain places. The right places."

There was a hidden meaning behind her words he couldn't shake. But her smile was so enchanting that he just nodded, leaning in a little closer. "Well, it's a good thing you came. I think I'd be bored out of mind if you hadn't."

"Oh, I doubt that." She tilted her head, considering him in a way that made his breath hitch. "You seem like you're never bored, Luke Hughes."

He blinked, surprised that she knew his last name when he hadn't mentioned it. But before he could ask, she smiled again, and he forgot his question as her hand brushed his arm--a light, fleeting touch that made his skin tingle.

"I feel like I know you already," he was surprised by his own boldness. He wanted to be seen by her, he wanted her to know everything about him.

"Do you?" her smile was amused. "Maybe you do. I have a way of... drawing people to me." Her words were like a whisper, her eyes locked on his. "I suppose I'm a bit of a mystery. Not quite from here, you could say."

The words made his skin prickle with something he couldn't explain. He wanted to know more, needed to know more. "What does that mean?"

"Have you ever felt like there was more to life than just... this?" she asked, gesturing to the room around them. "Like you're only seeing the tiny pieces of the world, when there's so much more hidden beneath?"

The question struck him as strange, but it made his heart race. He nodded slowly, feeling oddly exposed, as if she'd seen straight through his exterior to something he didn't know he was hiding.

"Yeah. I... guess I do."

"Good. Not many people do. You have to look a little deeper to see the real world."

A teammate's laugh broke their little moment, pulling Luke back to the sounds of the party. He noticed that the other guys had been glancing over at them, nudging each other and smirking as if to say, Look at Luke, completely spellbound.

He could almost hear Jack teasing him. Normally, he would've laughed it off, maybe shrugged and joined the guys for a drink. But tonight, none of that mattered. There was only her--only Marina.

"So, where are you from?" he asked, desperate to know more.

"Oh... a place far from here. Somewhere most people haven't seen." She lifted her glass, eyeing the liquid inside as if it were the most curious thing in the world. "You know, I haven't tasted something like this in... well, centuries, it feels like."

He laughed, but her eyes were dead serious. The chill that ran down his spine was unmistakable, and he felt an impulse to lean in even closer, to feel her presence more fully. It had to be a joke, a weird way to add to the Halloween vibe, right?

Before he could ask, she took a slow sip, the look in her eyes mesmerizing. It was like her words had wrapped around him, drawing him into her orbit, making him feel like nothing else mattered.

"I'm glad I came tonight," she murmured, her voice soft, almost as if she were speaking only to herself. "Sometimes, it's hard to find people who understand... the way things really are."

"Yeah? And how are things... really?"

"It would take more than one night to tell you that. But perhaps we'll have more time. If you want."

"I do," he said instantly, without even thinking. The words felt natural, as if she'd pulled them from him somehow.

She seemed satisfied, giving a small, mysterious nod before she leaned in close, brushing his cheek with a touch that sent shivers down his spine. Her lips were close to his ear, her breath warm. "Until next time, then."

And with that, she was gone. She drifted away through the crowd, disappearing like it was a dream. Luke tried to follow her, to catch one last glimpse, but the crowd thickened, and no matter which way he turned, he couldn't find her.

He stood there, dumbfounded, feeling as if a spell had just been broken--but only for a second. His head was spinning, and he felt her presence lingering like a haunting melody that he couldn't shake.

"Well, Luke, looks like you've got a new fan," Nico said from behind him.

Luke barely heard him, his mind lost in Marina's dark eyes and her words that felt like they'd been written just for him. He couldn't stop thinking about her, his heart aching with an unexplainable longing. She'd carved herself into his memory, and he knew, even as he lay awake hours later, that he was already falling, deeper than ever before.

~~

Two mornings later, Luke was the first on the rink. Or, more accurately, the first one pacing the outside of the rink with an ear-to-ear grin on his face, his mind so far from hockey he might as well have been somewhere completely different. When the guys started trickling in, he didn't notice; he was scrolling through his phone, texting with a smile that hadn't left his face since last night.

Jack was the first to notice, elbowing Nico as he smirked. "Look at him," he whispered with a grin. "Our boy's got it bad."

Nico glanced over, amused but slightly concerned. "Bad? He met her two nights ago. Doesn't usually happen that fast, you know?"

"Oh, come on, Nico," Jack laughed, watching Luke's dazed, half-grinning expression with a proud, older-brother look. "Kid's in love. And he deserves it, doesn't he? Especially after all those jokes about him being too serious." He shook his head. "I'm just glad he's finally letting loose."

Nico was unconvinced. He frowned, noticing how Luke seemed glued to his phone, as if he couldn't bear to be away from it for even a second. The more Nico watched him, the more a strange, uneasy feeling settled in his gut. "It just... I dunno. It's a little fast, don't ya think?"

Jack shrugged, laughing. "Well, I for one am happy for him. Let's leave him alone."

Nico nodded slowly, but he couldn't help glancing back at Luke. Something about the way he was acting felt off--almost like he was in a trance. Usually, Jack would be the first to hit the ice, focused and ready to warm up, but he hadn't even looked up from his phone.

As practice began, Luke finally put his phone away, but Nico kept watching him. Every few minutes, Luke's gaze would drift to the door of the locker room, like he was waiting for a message. When drills started, his usually sharp reflexes were sluggish, his focus absent. He missed passes, stumbled through plays, and even forgot his positioning once or twice, much to the coach's frustration.

Jack just laughed it off. "Guess he's got other things on his mind," he joked.

Nico, however, wasn't laughing. When they had a break, he approached Luke, trying to keep things light. "So... someone had a good night at the party, huh?"

Luke grinned, his eyes lighting up at the mere mention of Marina. "Yeah... Yeah, I did. She's... different, ya know? I don't think I've ever met anyone like her."

"Different, huh?" The captain raised an eyebrow. "What's so different about her?"

Luke hesitated, as if he couldn't find the words to explain it. He just shook his head, his eyes a little distant. "She just... gets me. Like, she understands stuff that most people wouldn't, y'know? And when I'm with her, it's like everything else fades away. Like I'm in a dream."

Nico's concern deepened. "A dream? Don't you think it's a little... strange to feel that way this fast?"

But Luke laughed it off just like his brother. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's not like anything I've ever felt before. And she--" He stopped, his eyes glazing over a little. "I dunno. She just knows things."

"Like what?"

Luke hesitated again, a dreamy look on his face. "The other night... she knew stuff about me I didn't even tell her. Like, personal stuff." He shrugged. "Maybe I'm just overthinking it, but... it feels like I've known her for years. Like she's been a part of me."

Nico forced a smile, trying to hide the unease he felt. "Yeah, maybe. Just... be careful, okay?"

But Luke barely heard him again. As soon as a notification buzzed on his phone, his eyes lit up, and he pulled it out, smiling as he read a message from her. Nico had never seen Luke act this way before, and something told him that whatever hold Marina had on Luke wasn't as innocent as it seemed.

~~

By the end of the week, the changes in Luke were impossible to ignore. His dedication to hockey--a commitement that had been rock-solid--was slipping. He was often late to practice, distracted, or exhausted. Once, Nico caught him sneaking off during a break, texting Marina with an intensity that bordered on obsession.

"Luke," Nico said, "are you even here right now? Or have you mentally checked out?"

Luke blinked, looking up from his phone like he'd forgotten where he was. "I'm here," he mumbled, though his fingers were itching to reply to Marina's last message.

"Dude, you're supposed to be focusing on pratice," Nico pressed, trying not to sound annoyed. "Are you okay?"

Luke looked at him, and for a moment, his expression was almost... irritated. "I am focused. Just... I don't know, she's different. It's like I need to be with her, Nico."

"Need? That's... not normal, man."

Just then, Jack bounded over, rolling his eyes at the serious expression on Nico's face. "Nico, come on, cut the guy some slack! He's got a girl he's crazy about, so what?" He threw an arm around Luke's shoulders. "Let him enjoy it! We don't all find someone like that."

Luke managed a smile, grateful for Jack's support, and Jack flashed Nico a pointed look, telling him to drop it.

But Nico couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Luke was acting like someone else, like he'd been changed. And it was more than just puppy love; it was like he was under a spell, an invisible tether he couldn't escape from. The idea sounded ridiculous--more like a Halloween ghost story than anything else--but he couldn't ignore what he'd been seeing.

That night, Nico lay awake, mulling over everything Luke had told him about Marina. He couldn't help thinking back to the way she'd looked at him that night, her eyes dark and knowing. There had been something about her... something he couldn't put into a words. A feeling he couldn't shake.

Then a memory hit him--something he'd heard, maybe just a legend, about people who could captivate others in ways that defied logic. He'd thought it was just a fairy tale, but now... he wasn't so sure.

The next morning, he found Luke standing alone by the rink, staring at his phone. "Still thinking about her?" Nico asked.

Luke glanced up, his expression... pained. "It's weird," he mumbled. "It's like she's in my head. I can't stop thinking about her."

Nico's concern turned to alarm. This was more than a crush. Something deeper, darker, was at play. "Luke, maybe you need to take a break from her Just... clear your head."

Luke scowled, his posture becoming defensive. "Why are you so against her, Nico? You don't even know her!"

"Maybe. But I know you. And this isn't you, Luke."

Luke looked taken aback, his gaze flashing with a strange confusion. But then he shook his head, pocketing his phone. "You don't understand, Nico. You can't understand."

As Luke walked away, Nico felt a chill run down his spine. He was certain now--Marina wasn't just any girl. And he was going to find out exactly who she was, no matter what it took.

~~

Luke's sense of time was blurring. He couldn't pinpoint when he started feeling that itch to see her every moment he could. It was like he attached to a rope that kept pulling him back, drawing him in like never before. Marina had become his every thought, every second between practice and sleept spent waiting for her texts, which came at odd hours, often in the dead of night.

Every time they met, it was somewhere new, somewhere unexpected. She would send him cryptic directions that led to hidden spots in the city--places he hadn't known existed. First, it had been a secluded coffee shop by the river, only open after hours. Then, it was an abandoned rooftop overlooking the city, their eyes reflecting the city's pulse.

Tonight, she'd told him to meet at the edge of an old, overgrown park on the outskirts of town. Luke had hesitated as he looked around the deserted space, but as soon as she appeared, a smile on her lips, his hesitation melted. She took his hand, her fingers warm against his cold skin, and led him deeper into the park, away from the faint street lights.

"You like these places," he remarked, his voice detached, like he was in a dream.

She laughed softly, her voice weaving through the trees. "I like places that feel... hidden. They're more real, don't you think? Not so tied to the world that everyone wants you to see."

Luke nodded. It felt like she was speaking a language he barely understood but wanted to, needed to. "Yeah. Like... like they're just for us."

Marina turned, her eyes catching his with that same magnetic intensity she always had. "Exactly," she whispered, her fingers trailing up his arm. "It's like you know what I'm thinking."

"I... yeah. Sometime I feel that."

They stood close, her presence enveloping him like the night itself. She was so close that he could see the way her pupils dilated. "And that's why I like being with you, Luke. You're... different."

She knew exactly how to make him feel like the only person in the world. Any doubts he had, any worries that flitted across his mind about her or the way he felt... they all vanished the moment she looked at him. She didn't even have to speak; just a touch, a glance, and he was hers, swept into a current he couldn't control.

~~

While Luke disappeared into the night, Nico sat in his apartment, his laptop open as he scrolled through Marina's social media for the third time that evening. He knew was overstepping, but his gut wouldn't let this go. Something wasn't right, and he was going to prove it.

He started with her photos, but that only added to his unease. Her account was full of pictures, but they were... strange. Oddly curated, almost impersonal, yet haunting. Most were places, landscapes with a dark, moody atmosphere--misty forests, empty fields, waves crashing against cliffs. When she did appear in her own photos, her face was always turned away or obscured, as if she were more a shadow than a person. And what really struck him was the dates. The photos went back years, yet she looked exactly the same in every single one.

He clicked on one from nearly eight years ago, studying it closely. She was sitting on a rock by the sea, her hair blowing in the wind, a distant look on her face. The style was modern, but there was something timeless about it, something off. And as he compared her current photos to older ones, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were... staged. As if she'd been posing in the same way for decades.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He tried to tell himself it was a coincidence, that maybe she just had a certain aesthetic she liked, but it wasn't convincing. Frustrated, he swtiched tabs, digging through online archives, local stories, anything that could give him more information. But her trail seemed to vanish whenever he got close, she was like a ghost, slipping just out of reach.

He leaned back, rubbing his temples, trying to shake off all the bad feelings. He didn't want to believe it, but the more he found, the more he was convinced: Marina was hiding something, and it was bigger than he'd realized.

~~

Back in the deserted park, Luke and Marina sat side by side on a bench, the shadows thickening around them. Her presence was intoxicating, and he found himself leaning ever closer, mesmerized by her voice.

"Do you ever wonder what lies beyond this world?"

"What do you mean?"

"Life... it's just the surface of something much deeper. Most people never even notice. But you... I think you can see it." She looked at him, her eyes sharp and assessing. "Can't you feel it, Luke? Like there's something you're missing, something just out of reach?"

He nodded slowly, his words tugging at something deep inside him. It felt like she was speaking directly to a hidden part of his soul. "Yeah. I... I think I do."

She smiled, and he could've sworn her eyes darkened, just for a second. "Good," she murmured, intertwining her fingers with his. "Maybe one day, I'll show you."

He felt a thrill run through him. The way she said it felt like a promise, like she was offering him something no one else could. Any lingering doubt melted away, replaced by a hunger to know more, to fall deeper into whatever spell she'd woven around him.

~~

It was nearly midnight when Nico stumbled onto a page in an old forum discussing local legends and folklore. The story that caught his eye created goosebumps all over his arms.

It was a tale about a woman who had been seen over the centuries, known for enchanting young men, leading them away to secluded places and leaving them forever changed--or worse, vanishing altogether. The description was vague, but certain details matched perfectly: her beauty, her mysterious nature, her tendency to appear and disappear without a trace.

His hands shook as he read the final line. According to the legend, she was a siren of sorts, feeding on the very essence of those she captivated. Her name wasn't mentioned, it didn't need to be. Every instinct screamed that it was her. Marina.

Without wasting another second, Nico grabbed his phone, dialing Luke's number. He had to tell him, had to warn him--whatever Marina was, she wasn't just another girl. But the call went to voicemail, and Nico cursed under his breath. Luke was probably with her right now, deep under her spell.

As he hung up, Nico felt an icy dread settle over him. He only hoped he wasn't too late.

~~

The tension in the locker room was nearly tangible. Practice had just ended, and the rest of the team had headed out, but Nico stayed behind, watching Luke as he packed his things, his phone glued to his hand. His face softened whenever a message from Marina popped up, an unmistakable grin on his face every time without fail.

"Nico? You need something?" Luke asked, sensing his friend's presence behind him.

"Yeah. I need to talk to you. It's... important."

Luke finally glanced up, frowning. "About what?"

"About Marina," Nico said, his voice sharper than he intended. He saw the immediate defensiveness flash in Luke's eyes and rushed to explain before he could be cut off. "Look, man, just... hear me out, okay? I've been doing some research, and there are things about her that don't make sense."

Luke's expression hardened, his grip tightening on his phone. "Seriously, Nico? You're still on about that?"

"Yes, and I'm not saying this to mess with you. I'm saying it because I care about you," Nico replied. "There's something about her that feels... wrong. I don't think she's who she says she is."

Luke shook his head, laughing bitterly. "This is ridiculous. She's not some villain, Nico."

"I know how it sounds, but just listen to me. I looked her up. Her social media, her background--none of it adds up. She's been posting the same pictures for years, looking exactly the same. She's told you things that don't make sense, like... like how she's been around for centuries, or how she's from some place that 'no one's ever seen.' Doesn't that make you wonder, even a little?"

"You're really going to dig into her past? Based on... what, a feeling?"

"It's not just a feeling!" Nico snapped, frustration boiling over. "I think she's dangerous, Luke. She's got you wrapped around her finger, and it's not normal. You're not acting like yourself anymore. You're late to practice, you're distracted, always with your phone in your hand like you're waiting for her next command. You don't even see it!"

"This is insane, Nico! You don't know her like I do. You've never felt this way about someone, have you? You don't know what it's like."

"Maybe not, but I do know what it's like to care about my friends and want to keep them safe. I don't want you getting hurt, Luke."

"I'm not getting hurt! I'm... happy. She makes me happy, and for some reason, you can't stand that," Luke shot back, his voice trembling with anger. "Ever since I met her, you've been trying to find something wrong with her. You're just... you're jealous, or you're mad that I finally found someone I actually care about."

"Jealous? I'm trying to help you, Luke! Do you hear yourself? You're so deep under her spell that you can't even see what she's doing to you. You've barely been yourself since she came into your life."

"Maybe that's what you don't get," Luke replied, tone cold. "Maybe I'm finally being who I'm supposed to be, and she's the only one who understands that."

Nico stared at him, almost at a loss. He could see the intensity in Luke's eyes, an intensity that didn't feel... real. It felt like someone else was looking back at him, not Luke. He had no idea how much of Luke was even left, how much of him was already lost to Marina.

"Luke," Nico said softly, taking a step closer, "you don't even sound like yourself. You've only known her for a few weeks, but you're acting like you'd give up everything just to be with her. Doesn't that scare you?"

"No. It doesn't scare me. What scares me is you, Nico. You don't get it. You're so desperate to find some fault in her that you're willing to throw me under the bus." His voice grew louder, angrier. "Maybe I'm finally moving on from all of this, and you just can't handle it."

"Luke, think about it. Every time you're with her, it's like you're... drained. You're losing yourself."

"I don't have to stand here and listen to this," Luke spat, turning and grabbing his bag.

"Luke, come on--" Nico's voice cracked. "If you walk out of here, you're letting her control you. Can't you see that?"

But Luke didn't turn around. "What I can see is that my best friend can't let me be happy. Maybe you should look at yourself, Nico. Maybe you're the one who's lost."

~~

Marina had led Luke to another place he'd never been--a small, secluded cabin tucked away on the outskirts of the city. The silence around them felt heavy.

Luke didn't ask how she'd found the place, and she didn't explain. Instead, she just smiled, her hand trailing down his arm. "Do you trust me, Luke?"

"Of course."

"Good. Because I have so much more to show you. But to see it... you have to trust me completely. Can you do that?"

Luke nodded. He was ready to follow her anywhere.

~~

Nico's eyes burned from hours spent staring at his latop. He'd used the information from his previous search to find even more out about Marina. But every new lead, every story he uncovered, pointed to something far more sinister.

He stumbled across another thread of legends, all about a mysterious girl who had been seen in cities across the country, always the same striking beauty, always connected to young men who became infatuated with her. Some people claimed to have seen her over the course of decades, some even over centuries. But the worst part? Just like the post he'd found before, all these stories ended the same. The men either disappeared without a trace or were left broken, mere shadows of themselves, haunted by her memory.

One story in particular caught his attention: it was a newspaper clipping from a small town across the state. A local athlete, promising and ambitious, had vanished after meeting a girl who fit Marina's exact description. Friends said he had acted strangely, obsessed with her, and when he disppeared, they'd found no evidence of foul play. The town had written it off as a tragedy, but a few people had claimed there was more to it--that the girl was not human.

His instincts had been right, but this truth was more horrifying than he'd anticipated.

Every cell in his body screamed at him to warn his friend, to get him out of Marina's reach. Would Luke even listen? After their last fight, Luke had made it clear he didn't want Nico's "help."

Still, Nico knew he couldn't give up. He had to try.

~~

Across town, Luke was with Marina in her small, dimly lit apartment. The room was filled with things he couldn't quite place--strange, intricate trinkets on the shelves, books with covers that looked centuries old. Everything about her was extraordinary.

"There's something I need to tell you," she murmured.

"Anything."

Marina sighed, looking away from him. "It's about your friend, Nico. He... he doesn't understand what we have, Luke."

Luke frowned, irritation flaring inside him. "What do you mean?"

"Nico's been... watching me, hasn't he? Digging into my past, trying to... find something wrong with me."

"Yeah, he has," he admitted. "But he's just protective. He doesn't know you like I do."

Marina's hand brushed his cheek, her touch warm and soothing. "It's more than that, Luke," she whispered. "Nico's afraid of what he doesn't understand. People always are." Her voice was soft, almost sad. "But he's not just afraid. He wants to keep you away from me. He wants to ruin what we have."

Luke felt a surge of anger at the thought. The way she said it made Nico's actions seem cruel, possessive. He hadn't thought about it that way, but hearing her say it--it made sense. Nico had been relentless, unwilling to let him find happiness with Marina. And for what? Because he didn't like her?

"I think... maybe he wants you just to focus on hockey and your friendship. Or maybe he's jealous that you've found someone who understands you."

Luke's brow knitted together, a part of him resisting, not wanting to believe it. But Marina's voice, her touch--they wrapped around him, making it feel real, as if Nico's actions were all part of some deeper betrayal. "Nico would never..."

Her gaze softened, but there was still something sharp and calculating in her eyes. "Sometimes, the people closest to us don't want to see us happy, Luke. They want us to stay close to them, just so they can feel safe. He doesn't understand what we have, and he doesn't want to."

He'd trusted Nico for years, and to think that his friend would stand in the way of his happiness, just because he didn't like Marina...

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "I don't care what Nico thinks," he said firmly. "I'm not letting him ruin this for us. I'm staying with you."

"I knew you would," she rested her head against his chest. "But you need to be careful, Luke. People will say things about me, try to turn you against me. They don't understand what we have... but that doesn't matter, does it?"

"No. It doesn't matter at all."

~~

Nico tried calling Luke again, his heart pounding with every unanswered ring. But he got nothing--only Luke's voicemail, each message left sounding more desperate than the last. Frustration boiled in him and he decided he could't just sit there. He needed to find Luke, even if it meant going to Marina's place and dragging him out himself.

As he left, he thought over everything he'd learned about Marina, every detail of the stories he'd read. She was a predator, a siren of sorts, he didn't know for sure. But the pattern was always the same: men who fell under her spell, only to be broken or lost, victims of her influence.

~~

Marina had lulled Luke into a sense of calm, making him feel safe and wanted, not registering the buzzing of his phone as another call from Nico came through.

"You're sure about this Luke? You're sure you want to be with me, no matter what?"

"Of course."

"Then let go of your doubts. Let me show you what we can have together--what life can be like when there's no one holding us back."

Marina leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "You'll never need anyone else, Luke. Not as long as you have me."

~~

The street outside Marina's apartment was eerily quiet. Nico parked his car and stared up at the dark windows, his hands clammy and heart racing. Every instinct screamed for him to turn back, but he shoved his fear aside. This was his last chance to save Luke.

He made his way to the door and knocked, his fist clenched. When Marina opened it, she seemed unsurprised, her expression calm and almost amused.

"Nico," she greeted, her voice low and mocking. "What a surprise."

He didn't waste time on pleasantries. "I need to talk to you. Now."

She smirked, stepping aside with a graceful wave of her hand. "By all means. Come in."

Marina watched him enter, her eyes predatory. "So, what brings you here? Come to tell me how much you hate me? Or perhaps... beg me to let Luke go?"

Nico's jaw tightened. "This isn't a game, Marina. I know what you are. I know what you're doing to him."

She tilted her head, smile widening. "And what exactly am I doing to him, Nico?"

"You're destroying him. I don't know how or why, but you've got him under some kind of spell, and I'm here to end it."

Marina laughed, the sound filling the room with a dark, melodic energy. "Oh, Nico," she purred. "I'm not forcing Luke to do anything. He's with me because he wants to be. Because I understand him in ways you never could."

"That's not true!" Nico retorted. "You're manipulating him, feeding on his weaknesses. He's losing himself because of you. He's not the Luke I know."

She took a step closer to him, smile fading, and for the first time, her calm façade slipped. A flash of something dark, something ancient, crossed her face--a flicker of supernatural beauty that made her features seem sharper, more otherworldly. Her eyes glowed faintly, like embers hidden in the dark.

"I don't know who you are," he said, his voice unsteady, "but you're not going to have him. You're done with him. Let him go."

She arched a brow, her smile twisting into something cruel. "You think you can save him, Nico?" she asked, her voice laced with venom. "You think you have what it takes to pull him away from me? He's mine now."

"No. He's my friend. And I'll do whatever it takes to bring him back."

At that moment, the door behind them opened, and Nico turned to see Luke standing there with a bag of food in hand, his expression conflicted.

"Luke," Nico took a step toward him. "You have to listen to me. She's not who you think she is."

"Why are you here, Nico?" his voice carried a hint of accusation.

"Because I care about you, and I know what she's doing to you," Nico's words were rushed. "She's not just some girl, Luke. She's... she's something else. Like a siren. She's using you."

Marina moved to stand beside Luke, slipping her arm around him. Her touch seemed to calm him, his tense expression softening.

"Luke. You don't have to listen to him. He doesn't understand us, what we have together."

His defences slipped as he gazed down at her, and Nico's heart sank. It was like Marina's hold on him was too strong, she'd wrapped him in a web he couldn't break free from.

But Nico wasn't giving up. In a last, desperate attempt, he pulled out his phone, opening a recording he'd taken from his research--a clip from an interview with a historian who'd studied local legends, including the strange, eerie sightings of Marina over the decades.

"Luke. Listen to this."

Luke glanced down at the screen, but Marina's expression shifted. A flicker of something like fear crossed her face, but she quickly masked it.

The recording played, the historian's voice low and serious. "Throughout the years, there have been sightings of a woman described as hauntingly beautiful, appearing near young men who later exhibited strange behaviour--infatuation, detachment from their families, and in some cases, even disappearance. She's known by different names, but the pattern is always the same. She entrances her victims, drawing them away, leaving nothing but traces of a faded life."

The words sank in slowly, Luke's face twisting. But he glanced at Marina, who was looking up at him, eyes wide and pleading.

"Luke, it's... not what you think," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Don't listen to him. He's trying to tear us apart."

Luke looked at her, his hand shaking slightly. "Marina... is it true?" His voice was barely a whisper.

The softness in her gaze vanished, replaced by a cold, dark expression. Her eyes flashed with that unnatural gleam again, her voice dropping low. "I told you, Luke. I warned you that others wouldn't understand us."

Luke's breath hitched, and for the first time, he looked truly afraid. "Marina... what are you?"

"I am what I am, Luke. And I never lied to you about that."

Shock and betrayal crossed Luke's face, the spell around him cracking just enough for doubt to creep in.

"Luke," Nico said quietly, "remember the first time you told me about her? You said she seemed too perfect, too good to be real. You knew something was wrong, even then. Don't let her control you."

Luke looked between Nico and Marina, his mind racing, trying to reconcile the dream he'd been living with the nightmare it'd become.

Marina reached for him, her hand hovering near him his face. "Don't listen to him, Luke. I can show you things you've never dreamed of. I can give you everything."

But Luke stood a step back. "No... no, I can't..." He shook his head, looking at her with dawning horror. "I can't stay with you."

"Very well," her voice dripped with disdain. "But remember, Luke--you came to me. You wanted this."

With a final glance, she disappeared into the shadows, her form dissolving like mist, leaving a chilling silence in her wake.

Nico steadied Luke as he swayed, his face pale. "You okay?"

"I... I don't know what I was thinking. It's like I was in a fog."

"You're safe now," Nico assured him. "She's gone."

But as they left, Luke cast one last glance over his shoulder, wondering if Marina was truly gone--or if she was just waiting for another chance to lure him back.

~~

Luke sat alone in the quiet of the rink. He took a shaky breath, feeling like he'd just woken up from a long, twisted dream. His mind replayed the last few weeks--how he'd fallen for her so fast, how she'd made him feel like no one else existed. Now that the spell was broken, the memories felt blurry, unreal, like a fever dream.

He barely remembered leaving her apartment. Nico had driven him home, guiding him to bed like a ghost, his mind empty and aching. He was grateful for Nico, though he hadn't been able to say much but a quiet "thank you." How could he explain what happened to anyone?

The sound of footsteps jolted him to the present, and he looked up to see Jack, Nico, and a few of the others guys looking concerned.

"Hey, man," Jack said softly, sitting beside him. "You, uh... you doing okay?"

Luke nodded slowly, though he wasn't sure he believed it himself. "I... yeah. I think so." He managed a weak smile. "Feels like I've been gone for a while, huh?"

Jack chuckled, though his voice was strained. "Just a bit. Had us worried."

"You're back now. That's what matters," Nico addded.

Jack turned to their captain, a sheepish look on his face. "Hey, man... I guess I owe you an apology." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking genuinely embarrassed. "I thought you were just being overprotective. But you... you knew something was off."

Nico shrugged. "You were just looking for him. We both were."

The other guys gathered around, patting Luke's shoulders, offering words of encouragement. For the first time in days, Luke felt grounded, his friends' helping to anchor him. But the haunting memories of Marina still lingered.

As they talked, Luke glanced around the rink, half expecting to see her standing in the shadows, watching him with that dark, knowing smile. He shook his head, reminding himself that she was gone. She had to be gone.

Jack’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Luke.”

He forced a laugh, shrugging it off. “Maybe I have."

~~

It took days for Luke to even slightly feel like himself again. Every night he dreamed of her. He would wake up drenched in sweat, the memories leaving him shaken, unable to stop feeling like she was still there somehow.

One evening, after practice, he walked alone through the streets, trying to clear his mind. He passed a bustling café, the windows lit warmly against the growing darkness. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of dark hair, a glimpse of a figure that made his heart stop. He turned quickly, his eyes searching the faces inside.

There--by the window, staring right at him--was Marina. She was as beautiful as ever, smiling at him. But when he blinked, she was gone, leaving only an empty seat where she'd once been. A cold sweat broke out over his skin. He backed away, she was still watching him, somehow... some way.

He walked away quickly, when he heard something. A whisper that was barely there. Barely audible.

I'm never far, Luke.

But there was no one. Only the empty street.

With a shiver, he continued, refusing to let himself dwell on the feeling that she might always be lurking, somewhere just beyond his reach.

[lvmoure]

Jump Then Fall CS55

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x childhoodbff!reader

Summary: In which you loved him the moment you turned 7 years old. In which she fell first but he fell harder.

Warnings: none, pure fluff

Part 2 Part 3

You were only seven when it hit you for the first time: a fluttery feeling, soft and strange, but warm like a summer breeze. The source of this unexpected feeling was none other than Carlos Sainz, your best friend since you could remember. He was the boy who sat next to you in class, the one who chased you around the playground, and the one who always let you have the last cookie at lunch.

It was a sunny afternoon, the kind where the sunlight spilled across the playground in warm, lazy beams, illuminating everything in a golden hue. You and Carlos were at your favorite spot by the swings, taking turns seeing who could go the highest. Carlos grinned at you, his cheeks flushed from the thrill of the game, his laughter bright and unrestrained. You felt your heart race, pounding in a way that seemed strange and exciting all at once.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Carlos called out, waving his hand in front of your face. He was laughing, his eyes squinting with joy as the wind tossed his dark hair in every direction.

You snapped out of your thoughts, cheeks heating up as you stammered, "Of course I am! You were saying… uh, something about soccer?"

Carlos groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. "I was talking about how we should form a team, and I was going to ask you to be my teammate. But now I'm not so sure, since you're off in dreamland!"

You felt your face warm even more, but you managed to laugh. "Fine, I'll be your teammate, but only if you promise to pass the ball sometimes!"

He laughed, pretending to consider your terms. "Deal," he said, reaching out his pinky. You linked yours with his, feeling a spark—a small, inexplicable jolt that made you freeze for just a second. But Carlos didn't seem to notice; he was already excitedly planning your imaginary soccer team's strategy.

As the two of you chattered away, you realized how much you loved moments like this. Little did you know, these small, simple moments would be the foundation of a love that would grow with you, one that would shape your every feeling for years to come.

Years passed, and the innocent feelings you had as a child grew complicated, layered with insecurities and fear of change. By the time you reached high school, Carlos was no longer just "that boy next to you." He had grown into someone everyone noticed, with his easy charm, his passion for sports, and the same unfiltered laugh that always made you feel like the only person in the room. It wasn't just the small things that made you realize you were in love with him; it was everything about him, the way he treated people, the way he never held back.

You watched him from across the cafeteria, trying not to be obvious. Carlos was surrounded by his friends, laughing and animated, and you could see why everyone liked him so much. But you kept your feelings locked away, never daring to say a word. You were terrified of what would happen if he knew—terrified of losing him, of the awkwardness that might come with a confession.

"Are you staring at Carlos again?" your friend teased, nudging you playfully.

You jolted, quickly looking down at your food, cheeks flaming. "No, I was… I was just lost in thought."

"Yeah, sure," she said with a smirk. "You've got it bad, and you know it."

You groaned, hiding your face. "I can’t tell him. It’d ruin everything."

"He’d probably be flattered," she said gently. "But I get it. Some things are scarier when it comes to best friends."

A part of you wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, he might feel the same way. But you couldn't risk it. So you kept quiet, holding your feelings close and letting them simmer in silence. There were moments when he looked at you, really looked, and you'd find yourself wondering if he could see the way you felt. But every time, he'd just flash you a grin or make a joke, and you’d brush it off, convincing yourself that he couldn’t possibly feel the same.

You told yourself that being close to him as his friend was enough, even if it hurt sometimes to keep the truth hidden.

The day he introduced his girlfriend to you, it felt like the world was crashing down around you. You plastered on a smile, trying to ignore the way your heart seemed to shatter into a million pieces.

"Hey, this is Isabela," Carlos said with a bright smile, his arm slung casually around her shoulders. "Isn't she amazing?"

You forced a laugh, pushing down the wave of jealousy and sadness that threatened to spill out. "Yeah, she seems great," you managed, feeling like every word you spoke was a lie.

Isabela was everything you weren’t—confident, beautiful, and effortlessly charming. She seemed to know Carlos in ways that you didn’t, ways that you wished you could. You watched them together, the way he looked at her, and it tore you apart. But you stayed by his side, putting on a brave face and pretending that you were fine.

"Are you okay?" Carlos asked one day, noticing the sadness in your eyes.

You forced a smile. "Of course, I’m just tired."

He gave you a long, searching look, as if he could see through your mask. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

But you couldn’t tell him this, not now. So you just nodded, hoping he’d never find out how deeply you were hurting.

Years passed, and one day, Carlos showed up at your door, his face pale and eyes rimmed red. Before he could even speak, you wrapped him in a hug, sensing the heartbreak he was carrying. Isabella had broken up with him, and he was devastated.

"I thought we had something real," he said, his voice breaking. "But she said she couldn’t handle it."

You held him close, soothing him with gentle words, even as your heart ached at the sight of his pain. Part of you felt relief—relief that he was no longer with her, that there might be a chance for you. But mostly, you just wanted to be there for him, to be the shoulder he could lean on.

"I’m here for you," you whispered, your hand running comfortingly over his back. "You’re going to get through this, Carlos. I promise."

He looked at you then, and for a moment, something seemed to shift in his gaze. But he was hurting too much to notice it, and you were too afraid to hope.

Months after the breakup, Carlos found himself looking at you in a way he hadn’t before. It was small things—like the way you laughed at his jokes, the way you always knew when he needed comfort, or the way you were just there, unwavering in your support. He began to realize that maybe, all this time, the person he was looking for had been right beside him.

He wanted to tell you. Wanted to confess that he felt something he couldn’t quite explain, something warm and soft that made his heart beat a little faster. But he held back, afraid that maybe he’d missed his chance, that his feelings would only complicate things.

For now, he decided, he’d admire you from afar, letting his feelings settle and hoping that one day, he’d find the courage to tell you.

Because love, he realized, was worth waiting for.

[oldsoul007]

kiss me

nicholas chavez x reader

summary: is it a coincidence that nicholas and y/n keep running into each other during the busiest time of the year

a/n: I know it’s unrealistic, just let me live

Nicholas and I’s first encounter in New York during Christmas was anything but a meet-cute.

The city was buzzing with festive energy, lights twinkling everywhere, and crowds bustling about. I was juggling a bunch of shopping bags and a hot chocolate, trying to navigate through the sea of people at Rockefeller Center. Suddenly, I collided with a guy carrying a huge Christmas tree.

My hot chocolate went flying, splashing all over his coat, and my bags scattered across the pavement. His tree toppled over, almost hitting a group of carolers. We both stood there, stunned and embarrassed. I quickly started picking up my bags, apologizing profusely. "I'm so sorry!" I said, glancing at the mess and his stained coat.

He bent down to help, saying, "No, it's my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going." Our hands brushed as we reached for the same bag, and we both laughed awkwardly. Despite the chaos, there was this brief, inexplicable connection. We exchanged a few more apologies and a sheepish smile before parting ways, thinking it was just a random, albeit memorable, mishap in the vast city.

Little did I know, this was just the beginning of a series of serendipitous encounters that would bring us together again and again.

The very next day, I found themselves wandering through a bustling holiday market in New York City. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of roasted chestnuts and hot cocoa. The market was alive with twinkling lights and the sounds of cheerful chatter.

As I browsed a booth filled with handmade ornaments, I felt a familiar presence beside me. Taking a double look. Turning, I was surprised to see Nicholas standing there, examining a snow globe.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I said joking with a smile, her breath visible in the cold air.

Nicholas looked up, equally surprised. "Y/n! What are the odds? It's funny, considering how big New York is."

We both laughed, the coincidence of bumping into each other two days in a row in such a big city not lost on us. "I guess fate has a funny way of bringing people together," I joked, my eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Yeah, or maybe New York isn't as big as we think," Nicholas replied, giving me a playful nudge. We continued to explore the market together, the unexpected encounter adding a touch of magic to our day.

The rink was a magical scene, twinkling with fairy lights and filled with couples gliding gracefully on the ice. Nicholas, who was still a bit clumsy on skates, stumbled right into y/n, who was gracefully skating by. They both tumbled onto the ice in a heap of giggles and apologies.

As we sat on the cold ice, catching our breath and trying to regain our composure, Nicholas joked, "Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something." My cheeks flushed from the cold and laughter, I replied, "You know, you might be right. How many times can you run into the same person in New York during Christmas? Well I might think you’re stalking me!”

We decided to take a break from skating and warm up with a cup of hot cocoa from a nearby vendor. Sitting at a small table, surrounded by the festive ambiance of the rink, we started talking and found ourselves lost in conversation. We shared stories of their holiday plans, our favorite Christmas traditions, and laughed over the series of mishaps that had brought us together.

By the end of the night, Nicholas looked at me and said with a smile, "So, what do you say we stop leaving it to chance and actually plan to meet up?" I grinned back, "i don’t know…."

Despite the festive lights and cheerful atmosphere, y/ seemed hesitant whenever Nicholas brought up the idea of spending more time together.

"We've bumped into each other so many times lately. It's like the universe is trying to tell us something."

I smiled but remained cautious. "I don't know, Nicholas. It's just... things are really busy right now."

Nicholas nodded, understanding my reluctance. "I get it. But how about this? Let's make a deal. I'll take you to the best hidden spots in New York, places only locals know about, and in return, you give me one evening to show you the magic of Christmas in the city."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued but still unsure. "And what if I don't have a good time?"

Nicholas grinned, confident but kind. "I appreciate the bluntness, but then I'll owe you a favor of your choice. No strings attached. But I promise you, you won't regret it."

After a moment of contemplation, my curiosity got the better of her. "Alright, Nicholas. You've got yourself a deal."

Nicholas's face lit up with excitement. "Great! I can't wait to show you a side of New York you've never seen before."

We exchanged numbers, feeling a warm sense of excitement and curiosity about what the future might hold.

Nicholas couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to do something special to show y/n how much he cared. So, one night, he picked up his phone and called her at 1am.

"Y/n, it's Nicholas. I know it's late, but I have a surprise for you. Can you meet me at Grand Central Station at 2am?"

Me, still groggy from sleep, hesitated for a moment but then agreed, my curiosity piqued. “Promise to not murder me though.”

When I arrived at the station, it was eerily quiet and completely empty. Nicholas was waiting for ‘e with a warm smile. "I wanted to show you something magical," he said, leading me inside.

We walked through the grand hall, and I looked up to see the constellations painted on the ceiling, glowing softly in the dim light. The vast space, usually bustling with people, was serene and peaceful.

"This is incredible, Nicholas," I whispered, taking in the beauty of the moment.

Nicholas nodded, his eyes twinkling. "I thought you might like it. Sometimes, the best moments happen when you least expect them."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. "Thank you for this. It's perfect."

We stood there together, under the stars, savoring the quiet magic of the night.

After our magical experience at Grand Central Station, Nicholas wasn't ready for the night to end. He turned to me with a mischievous grin. "How about we go somewhere else? I have another place in mind."

My curiosity was piqued. "Alright, lead the way."

I nodded eagerly, my curiosity piqued once again. We hopped into a cab, and Nicholas directed the driver to the American Museum of Natural History. Arriving at the museum, Nicholas led me to a side entrance where a friend of his worked as a night guard. With a wink and a nod, we were let inside.

The museum was eerily quiet and dimly lit, with the exhibits casting long shadows across the floor. Nicholas guided me through the halls, showing me the massive dinosaur skeletons and the serene dioramas of wildlife.

"This place is incredible at night," I whispered, my voice echoing softly.

We wandered through the exhibits, eventually finding ourselves in the planetarium. Nicholas led me to the center, where we lay down on the floor, looking up at the simulated night sky. The stars and planets above us created a mesmerizing view.

As we lay there, the peacefulness of the museum and the beauty of the stars above began to lull them into a state of relaxation. Nicholas turned to me and smiled. "I'm glad we came here."

I smiled back, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "Me too."

Slowly, we both drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the wonders of the museum and the tranquility of the night. It was a perfect end to our spontaneous adventure.

A few hours later, we were gently woken up by the night guard. "Hey, you two. It's almost morning. You should probably head out before the day staff arrives," he said with a chuckle.

I stretched and looked at Nicholas with a sleepy smile. "That was amazing. It felt like a first date, but even better."

Nicholas grinned. "Yeah, it was pretty incredible. But this wasn't our first date. How about I pick you up at 7 tonight, and we have an official one?"

My eyes lit up. "I'd love that."

We thanked the guard and made our way out of the museum, both excited for what the day would bring.

Nicholas picked me up at seven sharp, ready for our official date. We started with a cozy dinner at a charming little bistro, where we shared stories and laughed over delicious food. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and the evening flowed effortlessly.

After dinner, we wandered through the city, stopping by a street fair where we played games and won silly prizes for each other. The night was filled with fun and laughter, and as we walked hand in hand, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

As we strolled through the park, the Christmas lights twinkled like stars, creating a cozy and magical atmosphere. Nicholas looked at me, his heart full. "These lights are amazing. They remind me of how magical the holiday season can be."

I smiled warmly. "Yeah, there's something special about this time of year. It makes everything feel a bit more magical."

Nicholas chuckled. "It's funny how we didn't know each other before, but it feels like we've known each other forever. I'm really glad we met."

I nodded, my eyes reflecting the lights. "Me too. Sometimes the best connections happen unexpectedly."

Nicholas gently squeezed my hand. "Absolutely. Tonight has been incredible, and I can't wait to see where this goes."

We continued our walk, sharing stories and dreams, feeling a deeper connection with each step. The night was filled with warmth, laughter, and the promise of new beginnings.

Finally, we found a quiet spot in a nearby park, where the city lights twinkled around us. Nicholas turned to me, his eyes full of warmth. "I had an amazing time tonight."

I smiled, feeling a flutter in my heart. "Me too. It was perfect."

Nicholas leaned in slowly, and our lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was the perfect end to a magical night, leaving us both looking wanting more.

[blckbrrybasket]

Looking for you

Rafe Cameron x GN!Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.3k 

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mentions of fighting, blood, no use of y/n, friends to lovers, allusion to smut

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Rafe crashes at your place after being in a fight, but he needs more than just comfort.

Rafe's heart pounded in his chest as he approached your house. It was late at night, and the darkness seemed to amplify the weight of his trek. His clothes were rumpled, dirt smudged across his face, and dried blood clung to his chin from a recent altercation. His normally neat hair was now a tousled mess, gel long worn out.

He reached the familiar back door and hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. You and Rafe had been friends for years. He wasn’t even sure why you’d stayed around, but it made him all the more protective over you. Walking into each other's houses has become second nature to you. But tonight was different. Tonight, Rafe was dragging himself to your house with nowhere else to go.

With a faintly trembling hand, Rafe pushed open the door, its silent creak echoing through the quiet house. The hallway was dimly lit, casting long shadows that seemed to dance ominously on the walls. Rafe's footsteps were hesitant as he made his way further inside, the unease he felt mirrored in the eerie stillness of the house. As he rounded the corner into the living room, a warm glow from your open room invited him closer. 

Rafe had never really felt anything but ease at your house until now. What would you say about him getting into another fight? He knew you wouldn’t be thrilled, but would you be mad? His thoughts escaped logic as he crept closer to your bedroom.

It was unlikely that you were sleeping with your lamp on, but just in case, he didn’t want to wake you. He was thankful you kept low lights on rather than overhead lights, his head pounding from the hits he’d taken. Rafe didn’t want you to see the defeated look in his eyes either. He figured he’d crash on your couch, not considering that him glancing into your room would quickly draw attention.

He hadn’t even made a sound, peeking in your bedroom, but it was enough for you to sense his presence, not that he knew anyways. Looking at you on the bed, Rafe moved closer silently. He should be back in your living room, going to sleep on your couch, but he needs you. He needs the distraction.

Rafe winced as you whipped around at the floor creaking, your initial reaction driven by instinct and the remnants of a restless sleep. He raised his hands defensively, a mix of surprise and amusement in his eyes as he watched your swing narrowly miss its mark. “Easy,” Rafe remarked, his voice laced with relief that you hadn’t hit him. 

He watched your face morph from fear to tired annoyance to disbelief seeing the dried blood plastered along his chin. Your hands instantly reached up to cradle his face, any anger forgotten. “Shit was that me?” Rafe allowed himself to be coddled by you, the worry etched into your features tugging at his heartstrings. As your fingers gently grazed his face, his eyes softened, meeting yours with an air of reassurance. “Hey, it's fine. No harm done, baby. Wasn’t you, just some asshole who thought he could take me,” he replied, his voice soothing.

With a gentle smile, he reached up to cup your hand against his cheek. “Don’t worry over that. I just need some time with my favorite person.” Rafe was one hundred percent laying it on thick, but he knew it worked with you. If you had more strength when it came to him you'd tell him off for fighting again, spurred on by god knows what, and for him scaring you awake. Rafe knew he had won when you rolled your eyes at his words.

His fingers threaded into your hair as he sent you a convincing grin. You slid your arms around his shoulders to hug him close, still somewhat upset with him. Rafe’s hands tugged you closer by your waist, as he lowered himself to the bed, letting you settle on his lap. His hands massaged at your waist feeling you slowly become pliant for him. “Fine, but I’ll fight them for you next time,” you murmured teasingly before resting your chin on his shoulder. A contented sigh escaped his lips, a sense of relief washing over him as the adrenaline drained from his veins.

“You don't have to worry about that,” Rafe chuckled. “I'll take care of anyone who fucks with you or me. Nobody messes with you,” he muttered, the last sentence quieter. You couldn’t deny the way your stomach flipped at his words, resisting a sweet laugh. His lips found your temple, planting a soft kiss there, before he leaned back slightly to look into your tired eyes. Your eyes met his with the new distance, studying his features. 

“You should sleep, Rafe…” Your thumb brushed up and down his cheek bone, eyes focused on the blood on his skin. “I'll sleep, but first, I want to make sure you’re okay too…just let me hold you?” How could you ever refuse him? You beamed, nodding to agree eagerly. He shifted slightly, settling more comfortably against the mattress, his movements careful and gentle. 

Rafe’s fingers traced soothing circles on your skin as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, savoring the familiar scent of you. “You always smell so good.” His thumb drug up the contours of your spine, over your shirt, or rather his shirt that you were wearing. He peppered a few kisses along the column of your throat, the corner of his mouth twitching towards a smile. 

A small, needy sound rose up from you when he pushed his nose into your throat. You tried to hide the sound by quietly clearing your throat, your face heating up, but the damage was done. Your noises sent a jolt of desire through his veins, his cheeks flushing as he absorbed the neediness you displayed. Rafe’s breath hitched when he all too suddenly realized your position of straddling him. He could immediately sense the heat emanating from between your thighs, close to the crotch of his shorts.

His hands, now resting on your waist, grounded him in the moment. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between you, Rafe tilted his head back, his lips grazing along the sensitive skin of your neck. He pressed a soft kiss against the spot where your pulse raced, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “Don’t hide, I want to hear every noise you make.”

Rafe's touch moved from your hips to your back, firm and comforting as he held you close. His lips continued their exploration, planting a trail of featherlight kisses along the column of your neck. “Just relax, babe. I've got you.” You shivered at his roaming hands and lips. Following his lead you tilted your head to the side, the muscles in your throat rippling.

Soft moans escaped your parted lips as his teeth scraped along your skin. A low groan rumbled deep in Rafe's chest as he felt your shiver and heard the sighs that escaped you. As he continued to lavish attention on your neck, his grip on you tightened, fingers digging through your shirt momentarily. 

You were unable to hide your throbbing through the thin fabric of your underwear. Rafe could feel the obvious throbbing heat between your legs, the barely present barrier of fabric doing little to contain the desire that pulsed between you. “Rafe…” You blissfully breathed his name out.

He huskily whispered your name in response, his voice thick with need and desire, as he met your gaze. Rafe’s pupils had eclipsed his baby blue irises, leaving you staring into dark pools of lust. “Fuck,” he rasped, his voice filled with desperation. “You have no idea what you do to me.” Rafe's hands left you, traveling up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs gently caressing you. 

A hunger burned in his eyes as he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. “If you want it, just say the word. I'll give you everything you need.”

[piccoloswifers]

Piccolo X Reader

Different ways you disturb Piccolo's meditation

TW: A little steamy at the end, some touching and kissing

Before you two become friends, you would often accidentally interrupt his mediation sessions

Multiple times you would accidentally stumble across Piccolo sitting quietly with his eyes closed, a slight twitch in his facial expression giving away the fact that you were noticed

You would apologize and try to make a graceful exit while he continued to try and ignore you, for the longest time you probably thought he didn't like you

Or you would end up having to purposefully go find him and interrupt him for one reason or another

"Sorry to bother you but..."

"..."

You would start bringing the kids with you to make things less awkward when you two had to interact, something that unintentionally brought you two closer

But once you two start to become closer and consider each other friends, then you start to seek him out without the social protection of the kids with you

You would often find an excuse to go see him, bringing him water and just sitting with him. Piccolo would make a big show of being annoyed but on the inside he was happy

On days he wasn't in the mood to talk, then he would just sit there and listen to you ramble, or you two would just sit together in comfortable silence

Otherwise, you two would talk all day, which was something he wasn't really used to but enjoyed it and looked forward to it the more he got comfortable with you

You two would talk until the sun went down and the night turned cold, your body calling it quits as you started to shiver. Something that made you upset because you wanted to spend more time with him

Reluctantly, you would call it a night and he would insist on walking you back, offering you his cape before realizing you probably couldn't handle the weight of it

If you can't handle it, then Piccolo will get flustered and extend his arm to you to try and keep you close to his body, keeping you warm while complaining that you should bring a jacket next time

You never do bring a jacket, and he never really insists on it

If you're able to handle the weight, then Piccolo will offer it to you every time, never saying anything about your lingering scent on the fabric and his scent on your body

He will sniff it once you're gone and feel embarrassed by his actions, but you're doing the same thing soooo-

Your budding feelings for each other start to build up even more during these little visits, the two of you aching for more but also super embarrassed with each interaction

Once you even brought an old school boombox and played music, singing and dancing along to it until Piccolo was forced to stop ignoring you

"Do you mind!?"

His brain stops for a moment as he watches your body move to the music, a smile on your face as you turn to look at him

"Not at all! Keep being a sour puss!"

He had gotten so annoyed that one moment he was sitting and the next he was suddenly right in your space, grabbing your wrist to get you to stop and using his other hand to grip your chin firmly

You both had froze in that moment, gazing at each other before eyes began to wander to full lips that parted sweetly at the attention...

...only for the music to break the moment, your favorite song playing and making you start to dance again, this time moving Piccolo with you

"Dance with me, Piccolo~!"

"I don't know how!!"

"I'll teach you!"

After you two become a couple, you still go and interrupt him while he meditates but he enjoys it openly and even gets pouty/grumpy if you don't do it

You'll need to come by and kiss his cheek while handing him a bottle of water at least once a day, or else he'll think you're upset with him

Some days, you'll walk up behind him and hug him, leaning all your weight on him and making him grunt softly as he reaches back to touch you

He'll guide you into his lap and wrap his arms around you, letting your hands wander up his chest, ghosting over his neck and cupping his cheeks

It's an act that soothes and grounds him more than any meditation, it makes his heart swell when he looks down and sees your blissful expression

Piccolo is content to keep you in his lap all day, your legs wrapped around him and your face buried in his chest, a clawed hand scratching soothingly down your back

If you try to leave, then his arms will tighten around you, and he'll grunt unhappily before reluctantly setting you down

On certain occasions, when you're in a heated mood, you'll seek him out, pressing your chest into his muscled arm and nipping playfully at his ear

A hot hand will stroke at his chest while you start to kiss at his neck before he catches your wrist, panting softly and visibly flustered

"Right now..?"

His voice already sounds rough with arousal, and you're suddenly pulled flushed against him, both of you already knowing the answer

You lean to accept a greedy kiss from him, his hands guiding themselves down your body and squeezing the plumper parts of it

You run a teasing finger along his jaw as you go in for another kiss, stopping just before your lips touch

"I'll show you a different type of training to meditate on...~"

[iinterstellars]

alcohol has made him bolder... or more like completely shameless, somehow. in any other case he would be appalled at the way too personal information being thrown his way. right now, his imagination is running WILD and he's more than okay with LETTING IT; as if toying with it in his mind he imagines her below him: her body, warm, wet and inviting. his common sense ends up winning the battle and a shiver runs down his spine which he plays off as being cold by taking a quick sip of his drink, though he does feel a very different kind of heat traveling all over his body... pooling on the tip of his ears ( not one to blush but that's his telltale sign of embarrassment. ) " a lot of people don't, for some reason. i don't really mind. " he can tell she's being serious too, which doesn't make things ANY easier but... that's all he's going to give. it's been more than what he'd be comfortable with sober, and he DOESN'T want to feel awkward when this liquid courage isn't going through his veins. " can't be the first... i still need to show you what to do. maybe third? " he retorts with a grin, feeling happy to settle back into non - dangerous conversation. even more so when she distances even FURTHER from it, allowing him the chance to think about something else, something inconspicuous such as cooking of all things. " hmm... i wouldn't really know, " he says first, but is still thinking about it. he DOES know how to cook, had to learn at some point. he considers it to be an essential skill for anyone. most of the time though he would do it for himself, to fit his own palate. he RARELY cooked for more than two people but when he did he didn't get any complaints. didn't get that much praise either so... he's not sure. " only cooked for myself back then and if it was up to me i'd say i'm excellent at it. i can follow recipes too but if you put me in the kitchen and said i need to come up with something to feed an entire group i'd be lost. " he shrugs, everyone has their own skills. " you said you were good at it, no? what's your favorite thing to make? or... what got you the most compliments? " he's curious now and it shows. most of the time they talk about HIM, his skills; or he's teaching her something new so they talk about things she's not familiar with. this was her forte and he's eager to see how she speaks about something she actually likes. thomas can't help but chuckle softly at her comment, completely missing the implications of it, how she's bundled herself up with the rest. " i don't think that's the case. there's implicit trust between people and most medics... plus you kinda have to be nice to the person that could potentially save your life if something BAD happens, no? " he's humble enough to try to look at it a different way. he doesn't say it's always been like this, even back in the hospital. he laughs again at her remark, " takes one to know one? " he replies, though he knows it's childish but all for the sake of having a good time. he shakes his head this time, hand wrapping around the glass while fingers tap against it absentmindedly. " nope, completely innocent. i don't ghost people... " one night stands WEREN'T something he did too often either but he thinks it's obvious too, almost implicit with how casual sex isn't his thing.

NOPE . NO . NO . NO . warning bells flash in defne's mind , but she immediately ( of course ) thinks about thomas on top of her , panting , kissing down her neck , letting out grunts that she can't even imagine what they'd sound like and her entire body feels like it might be on actual fire . her face goes slack , eyebrows raising so high that she considers whether botox in the apocalypse might still be an option . OH GOD . OH GOD . his words swim in her ears , through her mind . she could almost have a heart attack from glee . she stares at him , solid and unabashed , unable to compute . it's a LONG MOMENT before he breaks into a grin and tells her he's joking because of course he is and that's all this is but she can't lie and act like this - that , him - hasn't changed so much within her . " i - " she splutters , weakly . " safe sex is great . " she agrees . then , she decides , it's not fair that he can mess with her . she's meant to be the one making HIM flustered and uncomfortable . " i mean , i wouldn't blame you for the no condoms thing . i don't like them that much either . " she shoots it right back , but unlike him there's no joke . defne's worst trait is that she overshares but right now - HE DESERVES IT , hopeful it makes him half as flustered as he made her .

her mind locks onto his way of phrasing casual sex . it's not his thing . ok . so , great . but what IS his thing ? she'd love to know his type , but she barely sees him really engage in much conversation , let alone flirt . he doesn't talk about his sex or romantic life . she's dying for crumbs that he refuses to give her . at least if he did then she could rest knowing she DOESN'T HAVE A CHANCE . defne grins largely to him , leans in closer and playful . " are you going to be my first surgery patient ? " she jokes along . they both know she's far from capable . at this point , she's still doing bandaids and painkiller . at most ,antibiotics and temperatures ( which she often will still ask thomas if it's too high or if she's doing it right ) . OPEN HEART SURGERY IS A LONG WAY AWAY . " are you a good cook ? " she asks , with a suddenness that's on brand for her . " if you're so good at being exact, you'd surely make an excellent baker or cook , right ? " defne takes a considerable sip of her drink and has to thank whatevers in it because it's good at keeping her so warm and comfortable . or maybe that's just thomas' effet . she feels his eyes on her and looks over , surprised that he IS indeed looking at her but almost distractedly . she moves her arms over herself again , self conscious . defne knows thomas isn't looking at her in interest and she can't help but worry it's CRITIQUE or yet again a reminder that she's ' young ' . " stoner thomas mode unlocked . " she replies , in amusement .

as more people trot in , defne can't help but notice the trusted and warm way that most people greet thomas in . it's clear they want to engage with him , yet he's ever so diplomatic to only offer them a humble wave in return . it's almost like he's elysium's very own celebrity. " everyone here has a crush on you . " she says it with an obviousness but immediately regrets it because she knows she infers herself with it . her cheeks blaze red and she looks away , takes another big sip of her drink . it's good that someone swoops over to refill their glasses albeit she's sure she doesn't need more . she murmurs out a thank you before giving thomas a pointed glare . " you're a dirty player . " she says , as if she didn't start it , then takes another sip of her drink . " ok . " defne sets down her glass in faux - seriousness . " never have i ever . . . had a one night stand and ghosted them the next day . " she raises her eyebrows , meaningful and challenging .

[5qui99l3draws]

I'm relistening to rqg and gave in to the impulse to redraw this three year-old piece of fanart

[writersdrug]

I NEED waitress!reader accidentally letting it slip that she’s got a date after her shift and so when bartender!simon overhears, he suddenly has a list of things she needs to do after work, causing her get to stay late ))): missing her date ))):

ANGST TIME

He's been watching you like a hawk for the past two hours - and rightfully so. You've been rushing through your tasks, rolling more than enough silverware, keeping your tables happy and stocked - you somehow managed to convince Soap to mop front of house for you. He doesn't like it. Why are you trying to get away?

"Got a date tonight." You tell him, skimming through your receipts as you sit at the bar and calculate your tips. You're not off the clock yet - you still have thirty minutes left. But the restaurant's empty, and all your tasks are done. Your makeup is a little nicer today, softer and less "morning after a deftones concert".

Simon's thankful for the mask, or else his frown would be impossible to miss. Is he dumb? Haven't you been flirting with him all week? Was this another one of your games, pretending to act innocent and coy, messing with him, then announcing you're going out with someone else?!

He feels his shoulders tensing as he watches you tap away at your phone's calculator. He shouldn't be so bothered by this - some things just need to be let go. But he can't. He wants to keep you in his back pocket, or in an empty whiskey bottle on his liquor shelf - not the one behind the bar, but the personal collection in his room on the third floor.

"That's nice," he grumbles, slicing through a lime. "Jus' make sure you finish your chores 'fore you head out."

"Already did!" You chirp at him with a smile. "Just need to do my tips, and I'll be done."

"Did ya clean the ice bins?" He asks.

You furrow your brow. "Huh?"

He jerks his head to the whiteboard on the wine fridge - sure enough, your name is scribbled in, right next to "drain and wash/sanitize ice bins + buckets", along with today's date.

You look back at Simon, your expression now crestfallen. Your date is in an hour, and you still have twenty minutes on your shift. "Don't you usually do it?"

Truthfully, he does. He could do it today, in fact. But his brain is acting on thoughts before he has the chance to consider the consequences. "Can't today, luv. Preppin' for a bigger crowd tomorrow."

Your shoulders slump. "How long does it take?"

"Well, you got to turn 'em off - one by one, I can't have two empty ice bins durin' a shift - then ya dump the ice, wait for 'em to warm up, then ya go in there with soap n' a rag, rinse 'em out, then-"

"God, can this please wait until tomorrow? I'll come in early and do it, I promise."

He looks at you sternly, and you suddenly feel ashamed for asking. "Wot, so I can pay you overtime?"

"Simon, please - if you do them, I'll give you half my tips for today."

"Now y' dumpin' your work on me?"

"I've got a date!"

"I've got my own shit too!"

You snap your mouth shut. He's never been this stern with you, but you know it's well deserved. It's your chore, after all. You'd been wrong to assume he would do it himself, despite that being the usual. You quickly hop out of the barstool and make your way behind the bar, unplugging the first icebin.

Simon watches as you scurry around, running to and from the ice bin into the kitchen, filling up bucket after bucket of ice and dumping it into the sink in the back. You pace as the machine warms up, glancing at your phone every few minutes, then touching the inside of the ice maker to check the temperature. After a few minutes, you're scrubbing the machine as fast as you can with a soapy rag and a bucket of sanitizer eater next to you.

Twenty minutes have gone by. You're supposed to be on your way to your date, but you're biting your lip, staring angrily at the ice machine as it cools down again. You need to wait for it to be cold before you refill it with ice, and only then can you start on the other machine.

You make another attempt towards Simon. "If I just do one tonight and do the other in the morning-"

"No." Simon snaps, his eyes angry as he drops a container of sliced fruit onto the bar. "This is part of havin' a job."

You look away from him, tears stinging your eyes now. You're so frustrated you want to snap back at him - but he's right, isn't he? Maybe you could ask him if you could just call Max and let him know you'll be running late - but the thought of asking Simon for anything right now (other than more chores) makes you queasy.

Simon doesn't know where the anger came from, but it's still simmering. He watches as you continue to run back and forth, filling up the old ice bin, unplugging the second one, dumping the ice in the back... he's refilling the bloody Mary mix and restocking the bitters. Simple things. He's got nothing to do after this besides go up to his flat and sit in front of the telly, or maybe chat with Soap before he heads home. Why didn't he just do it? Because you had a date, and that was a problem for him. Why? Now you're upset, and it's that knowledge that makes him finally feel the shame that he'd been swallowing down.

You finish dumping the last bucket of ice into the second machine. It's forty minutes after your shift ended. You still have to get to the restaurant you and Max were meeting at, which is a twenty minute walk. You were supposed to be there ten minutes early - now you're going to be an hour late. Frustration mingles with anxiety and burns in the forefront of your mind. But you can't be mad. You should've done your job.

Simon doesn't say anything when you run to the back, your phone pressed to your ear and tears in your eyes. You barely manage a wave to Soap as you grab your bag and jacket and flounder back into the restaraunt. You don't look at Simon.

"I'm leaving now, I'm so sorry- I had to finish up at work and it too longer than I-" you slowed to a walk, then a stop, standing in the middle of the floor. Simon was frozen, watching your shoulders shake.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had-... it's not an excuse, I promise I'm-... listen, we can go for a walk or something, right? Or go get fast food, someplace still open, just you and me, and we can try again another-"

His eyes burn in his skull as he watches you stand there for a few more seconds, staring at your phone as the call disappears from the screen. He wants to say something - but what can he say? He's already fucked you over. And he doesn't feel any better than when he first discovered your little date. He feels worse.

You stuff your phone in your back pocket, unable to hide the single, choked sob that escapes your throat. You shoulder your bag and stomp your way out of the restaurant, door clanging behind you. Your bike is still in the alley out back, and your unfinished tips are still on the bartop. He wouldn't be surprised if you never come back to collect them.

Soap emerges from the kitchen breaking Simon from his thoughts and wiping his hands on a rag. "Real feckin' kind of ye, Ghost. Never seen such a right cunt." He glares at Simon, before slapping the rag on the table and heading back into the kitchen. His shift was over, too.

Simon has three more hours left to deal with himself before the bar closes.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Ghost Eater

Summary: You don't like exorcists. They don't much like you either.

-----

You’d always thought big restaurants like the Brownie Industry only did well in small, midwestern towns like the one you came from. A year working in LA has taught you that, no matter where you go, people will always love garlic bread and sugar.

It’s your day off which means you’re pulling a double shift. You haven’t had time to wash your hair for the past two weeks so it’s frizzing out of your claw clip and flying wild around your face. The lighting is so dim that you’ve tripped over two black purses already, luckily not while you’re running food. The big dining room sounds like an apiary with the tittering laughter of the later adult crowd that’s filtered in from the theater across the four lane road. The main difference between the Brownie Industry here and the one back home is size. The ceiling soars overhead, supported by a series of concrete pillars separating the dining area into three sections.

Normally it would be three servers per section. Today, it’s just you in yours.

One more hour. That’s what the manager promised you. It might even be true if the host stand quits seating you after the table you’re approaching.

There are three people at the table. A woman whose hair might be light blonde or gray in the light of day, her eyes light and piercing. Her face is soft from age, emphasized by the tight, lace collar of her off-season sweater. She reminds you strongly of your mom’s nemesis on the HOA board. The man couldn’t be more out of place next to her despite their equivalent age. He’s wearing a leather jacket – again, it’s not cold here – and a Norwegian metal shirt underneath. His hair is definitely white, so white it almost glows. He’s frowning at the teenager across the table as if she’s touched his motorcycle without permission.

The teenager might be the first you’ve seen all night who doesn’t have their phone out. She’s decked out in what you consider grandma florals – a t-shirt scattered with daisy chains, a bucket hat made out of nana’s carpet bag, and a hand-crocheted scarf in pastel.  You can’t really see her face under the shadow of her hat and there’s an odd, blurred quality to the way she fiddles with her napkin. You let your eyes skip past her and back to the two adults. Teenagers don’t pay the bill.

“Welcome to Brownie Industry!” you chirp. You’re sweaty and red but the faded yellow light hides that. You’re a service industry pro so none of your exhaustion shows on your face when you ask, “Is this your first-time dining with us?”

If you weren’t so burned out, you’d have noticed before you introduced yourself.

“Are you Grady?” the woman asks. Her voice is more posh than you expected even with her lace collar. “Grady Pace?”

Fuck. There’s a noticeable temperature differential now that you’re close to them. The restaurant is warm from the number of bodies, maybe even warmer than the summer air outside, but stepping up next to their table feels like walking into an ice rink.

“I’m your waitress,” you say. You don’t have time for this conversation. You’ve got five minutes in your cycle to take their order and then you’ve got food to run. “If you need any other services from me, I have a website.”

“We messaged you,” the man says. His lips thin to the point his thick mustache covers them entirely. “You never responded.”

Because you’ve been making more money at the Brownie Industry than your other job. “I’ll take a look at it tonight.”

“Wait,” the teenager says, sitting upright. She looks from you to the adults and back again. When she smiles, there’s no humor in it. “This is why we drove eight hours to have dinner at the Brownie Industry? For her?”

“Katie, be polite—”

“I’m sorry,” Katie says, “It’s just—I found a priest, you know? An actual exorcist priest and you guys want to trust a waitress over him?”

“Ugh exorcists,” you say. The memory of sour cabbage is so heavy on your tongue that you stick your tongue out in disgust. When you see Katie’s look, you backtrack. “Effective! Definitely effective.”

“Your mistakes have cost us too much already,” the man says, shaking a finger at her. “We are not converting just for an exorcism.”

“I normally don’t agree with your father,” the woman tells Katie, “but in this case I would like to leave conversion as a last resort.”

“We wouldn’t actually convert,” Katie says, rolling her eyes.

“Pretty sure exorcists can tell when you lie,” you tell Katie. When her scowl deepens, you clear your throat. “Did you all need another minute to think about the menu?”

“We need you to help us,” the dad says. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, I know you’re at work and I’m sorry we’re bothering you.”

“We’re desperate,” the mom says. She reaches for her purse. “We’ll pay you. Triple the rate on your website or even quadruple. We need that thing gone by tonight.”

Katie covers her face. “Mom. You’re embarrassing me. Terry isn’t that bad.”

“Oh, he’s bad, young lady,” the dad says sternly. “A bad influence.”

“We caught her trying to perform another séance yesterday,” the mom confesses to you. She leans forward with a pinched expression. “So Terry’s friend Larry could visit too.”

“Interesting,” you say. The food bell rings, but you think you can ignore it for another minute. You study Katie’s blush. “Why did you do that?”

If she was being compelled, she won’t have an answer to your question. You’ve dealt with a lot of ghosts in your time, but so few are sentient enough – or powerful enough – for compulsion.

“Go on,” the dad says, gesturing at you. “Tell her.”

“Leroy, she’s embarrassed enough,” the mom says.

“No, she’s not, Sarah.” The dad – Leroy – gestures to you again. “Tell her.”

Katie huffs, clearly resistant. But when her dad huffs back, she caves. “So,” she says, “I have this YouTube channel—”

“I’m off in an hour,” you interrupt. You don’t care that you’re being rude. Your patience ran out as soon as she said YouTube. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” You turn to go.

“A moment!” Sarah shakes out her menu. “How’s the nicoise salad?”

Of course they’re going to order. They’d better tip too if they want you to help them with their ghost problem.

----.

“You said an hour,” mom Sarah says when you leave out the employee entrance. She’s shivering next to her daughter. Leroy is off smoking behind his motorcycle, parked next to the Tesla Katie is leaning on, but he stubs out his cigarette on the asphalt when you walk up. “It’s been two.”

“I had side work,” you say instead of it would have been one if not for you. You rub your bare arms when the familiar ghost chill washes over you. You want nothing more than to go home and wash the scent of garlic and brownie batter out of your hair. “Was there something wrong with my service?”

“No?”

You try to make your voice light. “I see.”

Sarah frowns at your tone anyway. “Why?”

“You tipped five dollars.”

Katie jolts like a scalded cat. “Mom!”

Leroy scrubs a hand over his face. “Sarah…”

“What?” Sarah throws up her hands. The parking lot lights catch on her Swarovski charm bracelet. “I tipped!”

“Like ten percent,” Katie says. She pulls her bucket hat over her eyes for a beat and then peeks at you from under it. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you, she’s always like this.”

“It was actually a six percent tip,” you say. You’re getting a clearer picture of this little family now. It’s becoming more and more understandable why Katie might have started summoning ghosts. “If you want to be precise.”

Leroy reaches for his back pocket. “Let me.”

Sarah swats at his hand. “We’re about to pay her a lot more than that!”

“For a completely separate job,” Leroy says. He pulls a twenty from his wallet and hands it to you with a grimace. “Sorry, Grady, I should’ve checked.”

“You should’ve paid if you cared so much,” Sarah retorts. She folds her arms over her chest. She taps her cheek and widens her eyes. “Oh wait… you never pay.”

“Sure,” Leroy says. This time it’s his turn to throw his hands in the air. “Sure, Sarah. I don’t pay for anything to do with our daughter’s private school or her dance classes or her health insurance—”

“If the court hadn’t mandated—”

“You make twice as much as me—"

“Guys!” Katie says loudly. Her mouth is a thin line of upset when she says, “Argue about what an expensive burden I am later when we don’t have an audience, okay?”

Her parents speak at the same time.

“You’re twisting my words,” Sarah says. “I never said—"

“Sweetie, you’re not a burden—”

“Can you just get this ghost out of me?” Katie asks you. She goes for nonchalance and falls short. “My parents haven’t been in the same room for the last five years for a reason.” She fakes whispering. “They don’t play nicely with others.”

Sarah bristles. “Katie.”

“God, I know how that is,” you say. The whole interaction is giving you the worst case of sympathy for Katie. Before her parents can say anything else, you change the subject. “How long have you been haunted?”

“Six months,” Katie says. She fiddles with her bucket hat so that you can see her eyes for the first time. They’re brown, like her dad’s, and have heavy bruises underneath. She shrugs. “They only noticed a month ago though.”

“I noticed your behavior had changed,” Sarah defends. Like her daughter, she fidgets. She plays with her bracelet and clears her throat. “I thought it was a teenage thing.”

“What signs did you notice first?” you ask the parents. They glance at each other and then away.

“Let’s just say we noticed different things,” Leroy says dryly. He pulls out his phone.

“Moodiness,” Sarah says. She ticks them off on her fingers. “Laziness. Disrespect. Over-sleeping.”

“Those are just teenager things,” Katie says with an astounding level of self awareness. She shrugs. “I’m a senior now. They’re lucky it didn’t start sooner.”

“I,” Leroy says, “noticed this.” He turns his phone towards you.

“Ah,” Sarah says, “Yes. That.”

You examine the picture. It’s of Katie on a small dirt bike. She’s wearing a helmet in the picture, but you recognize the fashion sense in the floral boots she’s wearing. The scene behind her is of the hills, low scrub brush recognizable to someone who’s lived in LA for the past five years. On the bike behind her is a smudge. It could be a cloud of dirt blown into frame or maybe a camera glitch. It could be if it weren’t for the leering face emerging from the cloud right behind her head.

“I just want to say I did not agree to getting her a motorcycle,” Sarah says.

“Mom, not the point,” Katie says.

“Look how close that creep is to my daughter,” Leroy says. He jabs a finger at Katie’s waist in the photo where you can see a ghostly hand. “I want him gone.”

“Dad, he didn’t mean anything by it!” Katie turns to you earnestly. “Terry never rode a bike before and I thought, like, what if he moved on after he got a chance to? It was a philanthropic effort!”

“Plant a tree if you want to be a philanthropist,” Leroy growls. “I want this guy away from my daughter.”

“He doesn’t mean any harm really,” Katie says. “He would move on if he could! He says he’s stuck to me because of how I summoned him. He’s like, really sorry. He even spelled out Sorry in the bathroom mirror once.”

“What,” Sarah says in a dangerous voice, “was Terry doing in the bathroom with you, Katie?”

Katie splutters. “Mom, don’t be gross!”

The family descends into bickering. You have heard about ghosts being stuck to a person before, but usually that’s when the person has some sort of psychic powers. Katie’s wearing crystal in her ears, but they aren’t charged. She might develop some talent later in life, but right now she’s a normal girl.

The parking lost is nearly empty now. You recognize a few employee cars, but very few customers. The kitchen will be cleaning for another half hour before they’re ready to go home.  The reality is that, if Terry is stuck, you might not be the best way to handle the situation. If he’s not…

Well.

It’s time to talk to Terry.

Opening your ghost sense is hard to describe. Some psychics liken it to a third eye, right in the middle of their forehead. You’ve always thought that sounded really cool like maybe the world gets cast in a blue hue when they do it and the dead appear like they do in movies. You’ve met other psychics who say it’s like a sixth sense. They know where the ghost is and it’s like they download all that information until their minds can just sort of conjure their image.

For you, it’s like letting your body remember it has a second mouth. Cats have an extra sensory organ on the roof of their mouth that lets them detect scents better. Your second mouth is a bit like that. You can still smell brownies and garlic and the city air of LA, but you can also smell/taste something else.

Something like…pepper?

Your eyes water and you sneeze so viciously that your eyes close. When you open them again, four people are staring at you in surprise.

“Gesundheit,” Leroy says.

“You sneeze like Dad does,” Katie says.

“Did no one ever teach you to cover your mouth?” Sarah asks in disgust.

“I wish you would’ve sneezed on her,” Terry says, nodding to Sarah. “She’s such a bitch.”

“Thank you for the commentary, everyone,” you say. You wipe your nose with the collar of your shirt as you consider Terry. It’s dirty anyway. “Terry. Interesting name for a ghost.”

Terry hasn’t noticed that you can see him yet. He’s floating behind Katie, one arm casually flung over her shoulder. It’s hard to place when he died based on his appearance alone. His hair is chin length, emphasizing the width of his jaw. Squire cuts have been popular for several decades and the bowling shirt he’s wearing could either be a modern fashion statement or a dated uniform. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, sun-kissed and with the air of someone who tells a lot of jokes at the expense of others. His arm around Katie strikes you as possessive, the glare he gives her parents venomous.

“I didn’t name him,” Katie says. “He said it’s short of Torrance.”

You blink. “Wouldn’t he be Torri then?”

“That’s a girl’s name,” Katie and Terry say at the same time. Their cadence is so close that it actually sounds like Terry’s baritone comes out of Katie’s mouth. For a moment, his arm flickers, clipping into her shoulder like a bad animation. When it does, Terry’s form grows brighter, more solid. Then Katie shivers and he’s forced out of her.

You and Terry click your tongues at the same time.

You remember how Katie’s hands seemed to blur at the dinner table. Terry’s not just haunting Katie. He’s trying to possess her. You wonder if that’s why Katie looked up an exorcist rather than a simple spiritual cleansing. Did she know how much danger she was in?

“Okay,” you say. You tear your attention away from Katie and Terry for a moment. Business first. “Sarah. Leroy. Who was it that found my site?”

“I did,” Sarah says. She raises her chin when you can’t hide your surprise. “When Katie was looking up exorcists—”

“She didn’t mean it,” Terry says. He pats Katie’s hat. “Right?”

“—I looked up alternative solutions,” Sarah says, not having heard Terry. Her confidence falters for a moment and she rubs her arm. “I have had some… negative experiences with exorcisms. I don’t want my daughter to go through that.”

Katie’s head whips towards her mother. “What? I didn’t know that.”

“It was a long time ago,” Leroy says. For the first time, he reaches out and hugs Sarah with one arm. You don’t know what surprises you more; Leroy hugging Sarah or Sarah leaning into his side. “When Sarah told me, we decided to put our differences aside. I vetted you through some of my contacts and they all agreed you’d be a safe bet.”

“I am,” you say. You’re not bragging either. You’re probably the safest bet in half the western states besides your older sister. “There are some…peculiarities in my method.”

“Charlatan,” Terry whispers in Katie’s ear. He’s grinning now. “Only charlatans are that confident. Look! She can’t even see me!”

Katie looks doubtful.

Usually, you’d try to talk to Terry at this point. Sometimes spirits can be negotiated with. They can be encouraged to move on or to take on a less aggressive form of haunting. Those that are truly stuck can be helped with the right sort of ritual work. But the way Terry’s affecting Katie’s mood and that fucking arm around her shoulders…

You don’t really want to talk to Terry.

“We can ask Terry to move on,” you tell the family.

“Nooooooo,” Terry says and flips you off. “Pass!”

“Sometimes spirits don’t realize how deeply they’re affecting their hosts,” you say.

“You don’t even know how deep I’m about to be,” Terry jeers at you.

“Many ghosts are confused when they’re called to interact with the living,” you say. “It can blur their understanding of death and, as a result, they cling to life. If they stick around long enough, their presence will affect the living like what’s happening to Katie. It’s not always malicious. It can be a symptom of that confusion.”

“Katie, tell her to piss off,” Terry hisses in the teen’s ear. “I’m not confused, I’m bored.” His voice deepens. “Tell her we don’t need her help. Tell her we’re going home.”

Katie opens her mouth robotically. “That’s…” Her brow creases as she tries to figure out what she was going to say. “It seems like we don’t need help then. Terry will move on when he’s ready, like I thought.”

“We aren’t paying you for a ghost therapy session,” Sarah snaps. It’s only because you’re really focusing that you can see the unease under her anger. She’s noticed something wrong with Katie. “Katie, Terry is going away today.”

“Fuck you,” Terry says.

“Fuck you,” Katie says.

Leroy’s head rears back. “Katie, you don’t use that language with your mother!”

“Fuck you too,” Katie and Terry say. The parking lot lights flicker.

“No, fuck you, Terry,” you say, stepping between Katie and her parents. Leroy starts like he’s going to pull you out of the way, but he doesn’t.

“Terry?” Leroy asks. He looks scared. “Terry said that? Is Terry possessing my daughter?”

“Not yet.” You eye Terry’s arm and the way his fingers are sinking into Katie’s arm.

“Oh fuck,” Terry says. He doesn’t look scared. Not yet. Instead, he grins. “You can see me.”

“Not every ghost is malicious,” you tell the parents without taking your eyes off Terry. “But some are.”

“I’m not malicious.” Terry runs a hand through his hair, still grinning. The parking lot lights flicker overhead again. “I care about Katie a lot.”

“Terry’s never hurt me,” Katie says.

You ignore her. She’s not even shaking Terry off now. Her gaze is dull on your face when you say, “I don’t mean to sound like I’m some sort of ghost therapist. However, it’s important to differentiate between malicious and non-malicious hauntings in my practice. My methods are unconventional and, if used indiscriminately, I can get in a lot of trouble.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Leroy says. He steps into your periphery. His gaze flicks from you to the spot you’re staring at over Katie’s shoulder. “We want Terry gone.”

“Not a soul,” Sarah promises. She comes up on your other side. “Please help our daughter.”

“Terry,” you say. Your second mouth is yawning wide somewhere in the back of your brain. The taste of pepper isn’t as overwhelming now. “Last chance. Renounce your claim on Katie’s soul and slither back into whatever hole you came out of.”

“We’re soulmates,” Terry says. He bares his teeth at you. “Go on, Charlatan. Call on your God to banish me. I’ve been around for decades and no exorcist has ever been able to put a scratch on me. And when they manage to push me out?” He laughs and the temperature drops another ten degrees. An unholy light flickers in his eyes. “I just come right back.”

“Then I guess I won’t feel guilty,” you say.

“Guilty?” Katie asks.

You walk forward two steps and grab Terry’s face. Terry’s skin is soft and jelly-like. His facial bones undulate like rubber under your grip. “Hi, Terry.”

Now Terry’s afraid. “What the fuck, you can touch—?”

“Bye, Terry.” You drag him towards you. His fingers pop out of Katie’s arm with a wet sucking sound, and he claws at your wrist.

“Wait! Waitwaitwaitwait--”

You eat Terry.

People come from all around to eat at the Brownie Industry. They love the density of the desserts and the heaps of garlic spread over home-baked (shipped frozen) rolls. It’s a treat to know you’re always going to enjoy the meal even if you’re far from home or eating at the same location a hundred times. It’s consistency, sugar and butter. An easy addiction to have.

Eating ghosts is like that for you. They fizz in your second mouth like champagne and melt like fudge. It’s hard to describe and the ephemeral quality of it sends shivers down your spine. Somewhere Terry is screaming in anguish, maybe crying. You think that the family you’re helping is screaming something too, but the sensation of eating is so consuming you can’t hear the words.

Terry is younger than other ghosts you’ve eaten. He doesn’t have the depth of flavor you’d once been addicted to back in Illinois. The best ghost you’ve ever eaten had been like a six-course meal with all the centuries she’d been carrying. In comparison, Terry is like a bag of pepper chips. Interesting, but gone in a moment. Still, he hits the spot.

When you’re done, you burp a purple cloud of ectoplasm into the still night air.

Leroy is the first to speak. His eyes are so wide you can see the whites all around them. “Pay her, Sarah,” he says breathlessly. His hands shake as he reaches for Katie, steadying her on her feet. “Now.”

You smack your lips and graciously accept the wad of cash Sarah hands you. You raise your eyebrows. “This is more than three times my rate.”

“Consider it a tip,” Sarah says. She’s more composed than Leroy, but still pale. She studies you. “That was…revolting.”

“You didn’t have to watch,” you say. You put your money away and then perk up at a sudden thought. “Hey, if you can, can you leave me a review on my site?”

“I thought you didn’t want us to tell anyone?”

You wave your hand. “Secrets are bad for business. Besides, Terry deserved it. I’m sure they’ll understand if you write that in your review.”

“They…?”

You smile and don’t answer.

The family don’t ask many more questions after that. The parents promise to leave a review and Katie just stares at you as if concussed. You assure the parents that she’ll be back to normal as soon as the soul-shock wears off. 

“And if it doesn’t?” Sarah asks.

“Message me,” you say.

“You don’t check your messages,” Leroy says.

“Oh,” you say, patting your stomach, “I’ll be checking them a lot more often now.”

You’re hungry again.

---

(Patreon)

[lovelyghst]

ex-boyfriend simon riley making you admit you still love him if you wanna cum <3

he can be such a jerk sometimes! calling you up one evening, claiming he was just wanting to check in on you and how you know how overbearing protective he can be sometimes, acting surprised when you snapped at him barely after his greeting.

“what has you so frustrated, hm, dove?… christ, can practically feel you seethin’ through the screen.”

you bit your tongue and gave him the truth over the phone; how he shouldn’t be calling you without warning like this considering you’ve broken up, and it’s inappropriate to be labeling you those sweet pet names you unfortunately and unknowingly still adore deep down.

how you don’t appreciate his abrasive bluntness, then again, he should know very well that you never have liked that part about him.

you told him the truth, though you couldn’t be entirely honest with him, in the sense of how fucking needy you’ve become with his absence. for touch and care, proximity and security, and all that.

but you are over him, undoubtedly, and you let him know that.

“yeah, baby, whatever you say…

…bet you rub that little cunt raw every night thinkin’ve me.”

and that shut you up quick.

he hummed in understanding, like your silence was readable.

“poor girl prob’ly hasn’t had any proper attention since i’ve been gone… shame such a pretty thing has to be so neglected, eh?”

butterflies invaded your tummy at the compliment, and you cursed yourself for your hasty, blind acceptance of it. but you can't blame yourself; what girl wouldn’t at least begin to crumble at that voice?

“i’m right, yeah?” he taunted, and it almost made you sick when you caught yourself rubbing your thighs together at his meanness.

“c’mon, sweetheart… you know you can be honest wi’ me.”

and god, was his cocky tone so infuriating; you wanted to reach through the phone and slap his smug face straight for overstepping your relationship’s boundaries so blatantly, and with such a deeply rooted nonchalance in his voice that always had you heated and wet.

“say the word, ‘nd i’ll come over and fuck you right now.”

…which is why you had eventually asked him oh, so nicely:

“please..?”

you could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face, followed by the faint noises of boots hitting hardwood floor and then the clicking of a door’s lock, the obnoxious ringing of keys clanging together.

“just give me ten minutes, doll.”

and now, as he bullies and buries his cock deep in your warm cunt, reaching all those sweet spots you or another man could never even come close to, you can’t really think much of his misbehavior.

truthfully, you can’t think much of anything at all, at the moment.

he had teased you prior to finally managing his way inside you, for god knows how long. his mouth, his fingers, his cockhead; all had brought you to the edge rather quickly, over and over after each other, but he was yet to give you that final push.

he puts his full body’s weight on you, strong pecs pressed up against your heaving, sensitive tits, and his stubble tickling your neck unceasingly. you can’t stop squirming and writhing beneath him, and his hot groans right up against your skin aren’t helping, either.

it’s always been a feat taking his cock, being crammed in your precious cunt almost every night when you two were together, but now it’s been weeks, and you nearly forgot just how big he was.

you missed it, admittedly. all of it; the veins and ridges, the unforgiving stretch. the slight twinge of pain he always hushed with his fingertips pressing your swollen, little clit, or a calloused thumb shoved between your puffy lips to suck on and drool over to distract yourself.

you missed his stamina, his libido. most striking of all, his selflessness in the entire act. he’s a soldier, he serves you right. most times.

“fuckin’ christ, sweetheart… missed this tight, messy thing wrapped ‘round my cock… practically stranglin’ me ‘n with no remorse, eh?”

shit, and you missed his dirty talk most of all.

“gonna fill this pretty, little pussy… keep ‘er happy all night, make up for lost time with my girl.” he wraps his hand gently around your jaw, making your eyes meet his. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you nod frantically, swallow as best you can, before sucking in a breath. “yeah— yes, please, si… i-i want it really bad… please.”

he kisses your lips with a smile, and then all over the side of your face, up to your forehead. he just can’t seem to stop kissing you.

“tell me, sweetheart. y’wanna cum, too?”

“i do, si—! i really, really do- fuck, please?” you beg and beg, and as much as it turns him on, digs at his heart to just give in, he sticks to his guns and merely adds:

“then say the words, pretty girl,” he coos, making you whimper in frustration. “that’s it, y’know what i wanna hear.”

you huff a whine in response, albeit your breath is strangled when he doesn’t halt his movements for even a second.

you really, really don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

he’s nearly panting himself, big chest and even bigger shoulders rolling upwards with every thrust. “y’ain’t cummin’ til i hear you say it, baby. c’mon, now. jus' admit it, that you still love me.”

he buries his cock to the very hilt, taking your slackened jaw tighter in his hand as he watches your eyes grow even hazier from his pelvis rubbing up against your vulnerable, needy clit. the stern look he gives you tells you he's serious about his last statement, but you'll later swear you sensed a bit of sadness, even despair in his expression.

“i love—” you choke on your own breath, desperate to sputter out the words. “i love you, si…”

and he practically has hearts in his eyes. “you mean it?”

“yes—! yes i do, i promise i still love you, please,” you spill, sounding closer to a temper tantrum than anything. “just lemme cum, please, si… really need it, please, i-i’ve been good...”

he hums lowly, contented, satisfied for once. as if those three words themselves — i love you — are the ones actually stroking his fucking cock. his ego maybe, you’d think, but jesus.

if you knew just how badly off he was beforehand, you never would’ve let him get this cocky and in control.

“love you too, sweetheart.” he kisses your puffed out lips, wipes a tear you hadn’t even noticed was trickling down your cheekbone. “always been my good, patient girl, haven’t ya?”

you nod once more, pinched brows and bleary eyes doubling in severity at his soft tone. simon praising you and being so, so uncharacteristically sweet has always made you fawn after more, even now. especially now.

“tha’s right, baby, you’re my good girl… now do me a favor and cum on my cock for me, yeah? lemme feel every last bit of ya.”

he ultimately resumes moving inside you, and it makes you wonder when he ever even stopped. your brain shuts off when he snakes a hand between your bodies, smoothing over your tummy before his middle and ring fingers quickly find your tortured, little bud. pressing hard, making you writhe with oversensitivity.

he works you over the edge diligently, and embarrassingly fast on your part, taking into account just how long he had edged you for. the sight and sweet noises you make are a dream; a reality he awfully missed, and something no other girl could compete with.

"that's it... easy, sweetheart," he coos softly.

he gives you a moment to come down from your high, softly palming your throbbing cunt to assist in grounding you, but you're barely able to finish catching your breath before he's doing it all over again! resuming flicking at your clit, rubbing you harshly and overstimming you enough to make you fruitlessly jolt and cry out beneath him.

he frowns down at you, damn-near condescending. "again, for me?"

you twitch and moan relentlessly as he gradually coaxes another orgasm from your tuckered body, his cockhead hitting that part deep enough inside you to make you see stars, his hard abdomen pressed against your tummy making the pressure of it all skyrocket tenfold.

the sensation of you finishing around his length once more has him barreling into his own orgasm, and soon fucking his pent up cum deep into your cunt with a few hard thrusts and a grumbled, broken groan right at your temple.

endless praises spill from his lips as everything becomes a blur for you; from the moment he's pulling out of your used cunt—crawling down and giving it and your pretty tits a couple sloppy kisses before briskly redressing himself—to being coddled in bed and squished between his muscular arms and torso.

he holds you so close to him that it makes you wonder why, or even how you could ever turn your back to it. he truly makes you feel like a spoiled doll in this sort of space. a doll with shaky legs, ruined makeup, and half a conscious.

"remind me why we broke up again?" he chimes.

you groan aloud, burying your face somehow further in his chest. "shut up, simon."

he laughs softly, pestering you with even more quick kisses, one after another to the crown of your skull. large hands rubbing up and down your back, moving to knead at your ass and thighs for a short moment. he just loves touching you so much.

“c’mon, pretty girl. let’s go get you cleaned up,” he mutters with an exhale. "how's a hot bath sound?"

you have no time to interject, other than a displeased pout and shake of your head, before you’re being hoisted up on your wobbly legs, then swept up and carried to your restroom when you couldn’t even make it three steps before your knees began to buckle on you.

you’re dizzy, utterly dazed and half asleep as he bathes you. making sure you don’t lift a finger as he works, treating you as nothing less than a princess. your loosened muscles somehow melt even more with his precise touch and strength, and you remember just how much you love being turned utterly numb and dependent on him.

you’re pretty sure you fell asleep the moment you were wrapped in a warm towel, pulled into the strong embrace of his meaty arms, but something he said moments beforehand had stuck with you.

“hey,” he whispered, soapy hand turning you to face him. he leaned in and kissed the area between your brows. “i’ll be better this time.”

“you promise?” you mumbled. your head fell atop your knees, arms wrapped around your legs and keeping them close to your body.

your extended pinky finger made him chuckle a bit, and he quickly looped his own around yours. solidifying his words. “promise.”

[schrodingerscougar]

Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.

Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’s developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.

For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He can’t even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isn’t sure you would return his feelings. If you didn’t, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and he’s honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.

The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since you’re at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows you’ll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that he’s back home.

He’s woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices it’s past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.

“You’re awake!” you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. “Welcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.”

That damn smile of yours. It’s wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, “Sorry.”

You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon can’t help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldn’t believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.

“What got you thinking so hard?”

Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. “You,” he replies honestly.

“Me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. “I had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,” he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m deployed? How many times do I wonder what you’re doing while I’m away?”

It’s easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. You’re both under a spell that he doesn’t want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he can’t help but think about whether or not you would be against it.

Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves your attention. After all, he’s not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.

He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasn’t allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didn’t want to scare you away, he didn’t want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.

When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.

As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet, love. Let’s go on a proper date first, yeah?” he asks you with a small smile.

You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.

“I know you, Simon,” you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, “Okay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.”

With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. “Understood.”

Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. “I’ll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,” it says.

“Better not. She's taken,” he replies.

[papercorgiworld]

“I dare you to steal his clothes.”

Mattheo, Enzo, Blaise and Theo

Luna dares you to steal his clothes while he’s showering. I mean what can possibly go wrong… *wink wink*

Warning: smut, making out and the guys are fully naked

Mattheo and Theo picture source: https://pin.it/4GWiiih

I’m back with more low quality, cheap smut. Feedback is rewarded with my love, like even a small typo, just please let me know.

I wrote a part 2 for Mattheo and Theo: The day after the dare. Also wrote “I dare you to steal his clothes” for Draco and Tom.

You were sitting in the slytherin common room. It was late and the party was dying down but your friends refused to go to their dorms.

“Truth or dare?” Luna asks as she tries to focus on you but she’s clearly too drunk to manage that.

“Dare.”

Luna tries to get her brain to come up with a good dare, something fun. It is then that she sees a certain slytherin holding a towel and heading for the bathroom.

Mattheo Riddle

“I dare you to steal Mattheo’s clothes while he’s showering.” You groan, you preferred to stay as far away from him as possible, but then again if you were sneaky enough he would probably never figure out it was you.

You had managed to sneak in without making any noise. You were relieved there was only one person in the bathroom. You tiptoed towards the pile of clothing and just as you were reaching for it you noticed that the water had stopped running.

“Accio.” Is all you heard before being pulled backwards straight into Mattheo. His strong arms immediately wrapped around you and pushed you against his still wet body.

“You were dared to do this, weren’t you?” Mattheo whispers in your ears, his voice is calm and amused. You swallow and lick your lips in an attempt to calm yourself. “Yes.” You murmur as you try to wiggle your way out of his arms, but he just tightens his grip more. The water droplets on his body are sinking into the fabric of your shirt.

You sigh. “Just let me go. And like, lend me your tie or something so they know I tried. I don’t want them to think I chickened out.” Mattheo leans in closer to your neck, his warm breath on your skin makes your whole body heat up. “Riddle.” You wanna complain but it comes out desperate.

“I have a better idea.” Mattheo says right before he spins you around. Your back clashes with a wall as he pushes you against it with his whole body. His amused smirk gives you mixed feelings of worry and desire. “Just the tie is fine.” You protest as his face inches towards you. You fear that if Mattheo actually kisses you, you will lose all sanity and he will have you begging in no time.

You can feel his hardening member between your legs. A not so subtle reminder that he’s naked. Mattheo’s hand lingers on your leg gently making his way up under your skirt. Your body tenses under his touch. “You can always leave. Or you can stay and maybe I’ll let you walk away with my clothes.”

As you consider your options he watches your face and slowly leans into you, his pleased grin never faltering. After a moment of quiet sexual tension Mattheo grabs your ass and lifts you up without warning. A soft noise leaves your lips and Mattheo sees your parted lips as an open invitation. His mouth is on yours and his tongue immediately starts exploring.

His hard cock teases your pussy through your panties. Out of desperation you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, searching for more sensation. He breaks the kiss and admires your flustered face. “Look at you. Always acting like you're better than me and now I’ll have you calling me daddy in no time.” His arrogance turns you on as much as it infuriates you.

Mattheo grabs your chin to angle your face right, leaving your neck exposed. He starts kissing and nibbling at your sensitive spot, while his hips rock into yours. Your fingers entangle in his beautiful dark curls but only for a moment. You are not an easy prey.

You tugg his hair so he pulls away from your neck. “Not happening, Riddle.” His arrogant smug face starts cracking and he clenches his jaw. “You’re pretty entertaining, but I’ll not be calling you daddy.” You say trying to sound brave while you unwrap your legs. With dark eyes he lets you slip out of his hands so you land on your feet. “No tie for you, you’ll fail your dare.” You smile at his attempt to persuade you.

“Don’t worry about me Riddle, worry about the little fella between your legs.” You take a step and reluctantly he lets you walk away. Now that there’s some distance between you two your eyes fall on his hard thick member and you bite your lip, slightly impressed by his size. When you’re near the door Mattheo can’t help but try one more time. “My roommates are going to be out for a few more hours, just so you know, in case you change your mind.” You lick your lips as you're holding the door. “Sorry pretty boy, it’s going to be you and your hand tonight.”

As you close the door behind you Mattheo looks around clearly frustrated that he got played like this. An annoyed huff leaves his lips. You had already caught his eye but now you were definitely on his radar. He urgently needs another shower to cool down.

Meanwhile you walked back to your friends still shaking from all the things Mattheo had you feeling. When they see you walk in they stop talking and stare. “Yeah, it didn’t go as planned.” You say with a soft voice and a flustered face. Suddenly Luna points, clearly still out of it. “Is that a hickey?” Your eyes widen as your hand covers your neck. “Oh. My. God.” Pansy’s dramatic voice draws even more attention, while Hermoine eyes show flashes of pure panic.

Enzo Berkshire

“I dare you to steal Lorenzo’s clothes while he’s showering.” Your eyes widen and you blush. You wondered if Luna dared you to do this because she had somehow figured out you had a crush on the Slytherin.

Either way you were currently standing in front of the bathroom door. You quietly open the door and tiptoe inside, while scanning for his clothes. However, Enzo already noticed you before you managed to spot his clothes. “Did they dare you to join me in the shower? Because you are more than welcome, darling.” You turn around with red cheeks and see Enzo with a bright smirk.

But honestly your eyes don’t linger on his face for very long. They immediately drop down to his very naked body and his dick. “Enjoying the show?” He asks and you quickly turn around. “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice.” You stammer, making Enzo chuckle. “If you stare for as long as you did, you’ve definitely noticed everything.” He emphasizes the last word. “I was dared to steal your clothes.” You confess, hoping he won’t think you’re some pervy girl.

“That’s just boring. I dare you to join me for a shower, I will help you wash.” You feel your whole body heat up. “You can’t just dare me, I can still pick ‘truth’.” You hear him walk towards you, but you don’t dare to turn around assuming he’s still naked. “You’re right. So, truth then: did you like what you saw?” Your mouth falls open and suddenly you feel his breath on your neck. His eyes carefully watching your red face.

“You are unbelievable!” You try and take a step to put some distance between you two, but he wraps his arm around you. “Unbelievably hot? Handsome? Long? Big?” He teases you while his face nestles in his hair. “You know if you’re not going to tell me then you’re going to have to shower with me.”

***

“So strange, it’s been an hour and (y/n) still hasn’t come back.” Luna asks with a very confused tone. Hermoine smiles, having her suspicions. “Maybe she just got a little distracted while trying to steal Lorenzo’s clothes.”

Blaise Zabini

“I dare you to steal Zabini’s clothes while he’s showering.” You swallow. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” Convincing drunk Luna was impossible. So here you were sneaking around in the Slytherin boys bathroom gathering Blaise’s scattered clothes like some weirdo. You had finally collected every piece and tiptoed your way to the door. However, you were still only halfway when you were spotted.

“Hey, hey, what do you think you’re doing, little smooth criminal?” You hear Zabini shout as you're holding all of his clothes. “Nothing.” You instinctively answer. He wants to say something but is distracted when he sees your eyes scan down his body. “Princes, my eyes are up here.” You let out a nervous laugh as you glue your eyes to his. It has never been so difficult to not look at something.

You don’t dare to take your eyes off his face as he walks towards you. When he stops right in front of you you feel like you’re turning into pudding. He slowly leans in, his eyes never leaving yours. Then suddenly he pulls out a towel from behind you and wraps it around his waist. You sigh relieved that you can let your eyes wander again.

“Can I have my clothes back, little thief?” He asks with an adorable smile plastered on his face. “No, I’m stealing them for a dare.” You explain like you now have every right to steal his clothes. He tilts his head, not satisfied with your excuse. “I really need them.” You urge and you earn yourself a baffled expression from him. “So do I.”

“Clothes are overrated. You can go naked.” Blaise quirks an eyebrow. “I mean you have your towel.” You gesture to his slutty low hanging towel and when he looks down you head for the door. Unfortunately, you don’t get very far as he grabs a hold of your wrist. You stumble and fall into him, making you drop some of the clothes you were holding and causing his towel to loosen and fall down. As soon as you notice that his rather large member is revealed again you glue your eyes back to his. “Your towel.” He’s so amused with your flustered face that it really doesn’t bother him anymore.

His lips catch yours by surprise, but it doesn’t take long for you to relax into the kiss. Things heat up quickly. Your hands snake around his neck and he starts exploring your entire body, squeezing and cupping your breasts while gripping your ass and pulling you into his hips. You never stop touching each other as he walks you towards the shower. “I’m going to have to steal your clothes.” He explains as he pulls your shirt over your head. “Understandable.” Is all you say.

After more than an hour you return to your friends. “Did you take a shower?” Hermoine questions when she notices you walk in with wet hair. “Who cares! Did you get his clothes?” Luna screams in excitement about the dare. “Damn, I forgot about that.” You sigh and Luna looks confused. “Then what have you been doing all this time?” “Me.” You hear Blaise say as he passes you and your friends on his way to his room. You glare but his smile doesn't fade.

Theodore Nott

“I dare you to steal Nott’s clothes while he’s showering.” You roll your eyes as soon as you hear his name. All of your friends were convinced that you had a thing for him and you definitely admired his looks but you just couldn’t stand his smug face.

“Run in, grab his clothes and run out. Easy.” You whispered to yourself before slamming the door open with zero tact and running in. He of course immediately notices you. You spot a pile of clothes on the other side of the room and sprint towards it. When he realizes what you’re up to he steps out of the shower and heads towards the door.

You quickly hug the pile of clothes against your chest and turn around with the intention of running out, but there’s a flaw in your plan. Well, more like a very naked Theo leaning against the door. “I’m assuming you were dared to do this?” He raises an eyebrow. “Duh, why else would I be running around stealing clothes?” You were annoyed with his question and he was annoyed with your answer.

As you walk towards him it’s harder for you to ignore his massive cock, like its size is almost bothering you. No wonder his ego is so massive, just like his dick. He licks his lips as he watches you stare at him for a second too long to go unnoticed. When you look up and see his smirk, you sigh. “Just let me pass, Nott.” He shakes his head. “You come running in here, try to steal my clothes and expect me to let you walk out. You really aren’t that bright.” You narrow your eyes at him. “But you’re pretty, so maybe we can arrange something.”

The only thing between you two is the pile of clothes that you’re holding against your chest. Theo tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Come on, if you get on your knees for me I’ll let you walk out of here with my clothes.” You consider your options, but he makes choosing easier by leaning in and kissing you roughly. He bites your lips and you open your mouth while simultaneously dropping his clothes. Your fingers tangle in his hair and you press yourself against him. He eagerly embraces your lust and lets himself lean against a wall.

Your hands roam his naked chest and slowly you make your way to his already harding member. When you finally wrap your hand around his thick cock he lets out a soft moan. Even though his eyes are shut he knows you're smiling against his lips. You start pumping his dick and stroking his tip. Theo's breaths become messy. He hates that you know how much you turn him on, but he can’t help himself. More than once, has he spent his time daydreaming about you going down on him and now your lips were slowly making their way down from his neck to his chest to…

“You’re already leaking cum for me.” You taunt him and he looks down at you. Fuck, seeing you on your knees holding his cock. It does things to him. “But if you think something is going to happen, then you aren’t very bright, Theo.” With those words you jump up and grab his clothes, running like your life depends on it.

Panting you reach your friends and hold Theo’s clothes up in victory. Luna cheers excitedly. Some time passes and you’ve all decided to play one last round, when suddenly Theo walks in wearing nothing but a towel and if looks could fuck, then.. you know, definitely fucked. The lust in his eyes was dangerously attractive. His eyes never leave yours as he gathers his clothes laying next to you. “I’ll get you for this.” He says with a husky voice and licks his lips. Hermoine frowns and laughs nervously. “Why do I get the feeling this is about more than just stealing clothes?” Your heart starts racing as you watch Theo walk away, you might have gotten yourself in trouble.