#endless mischief movie night in

[peacockpenis]

endless mischief movie night in – "high tide school"

bonus:

[omgeto]

☆ THRILL (h)ER! — SATOSUGU X READER

summary: when watching a scary movie with your two best friends, you cant help but hold onto them tight every time you get jumpscared. but as the night goes on and your fingers roam... wait, what movie were you watching again?

wc: 3.3k (its alll smut guys so give me a medal)

cw: double penetration, praising, slight degradation, gojo and geto bickering, fingering, dirty talk (?) and some fun loving you're their pretty little princess. afab!reader, MDNI

an: guys look I finally posted a fic for kinktober, yay me, I hope you like it since Id say the smut on this one hits different sooo give it a chance. also only big brains will understand the fic title.

KINKTOBER M.LIST.

your best friends, gojo and geto always have a way of making you feel right at home, especially when you find yourself in your favourite spot on the couch – sandwiched between them. geto's embrace is a gentle yet possessive one, his arms wrapped around you in a tender hold that radiates warmth, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your lower back.

to your side, gojo's long limbs seamlessly entwine with yours. your legs stretch over to meet him, creating an intimate tangle of limbs. his fingers trail leisurely up and down your thighs, their teasing caresses sending delightful shivers through your body. it's a familiar and electric sensation that's become an unspoken language among the three of you—one that hasn’t fully been enacted upon… yet.

"i don't know why you insist we watch this movie every year," geto complains, his gaze locked onto his b est friend, a playful frustration in his tone. "you're so predictable."

"oh, don't be a bore," gojo retorts, matching geto's glare before shifting his attention down to you. his voice is laced with mischief as he speaks to you. "you find it fun, don't you?" 

“what? do i like crappy slashers from the 80s with big titted damsels running from a shitly costumed killer?” you deadpan, your sarcasm evident. you could feel the vibration from geto as he lowly chuckles. gojo’s face forms a pout that prompts you to quickly add, “but i love them.”

gojo’s pout transforms into a triumphant grin as your admission earns you a playful nudge from him. “that’s my girl,” he exclaims, giving your thigh an excited rub as he turns on the movie.

geto, still chuckling softly, leans in closer. “well, i suppose if toru enjoys it, we can endure it one more time.” his words carry a hint of tenderness, his arm around you tightening ever so slightly, puling you closer into his embrace.                                                                            

you watch the movie in a comfortable silence, the only noise coming from the tv and gojo's oddly placed screams that you've come to expect every year. his over-the-top reactions to jump scares and gruesome scenes never fail to amuse you, and it's a source of endless entertainment for both you and geto.

geto, on the other hand, watches the movie with a more stoic expression, occasionally shaking his head at the implausible plot twists and unrealistic gore. His hand continues to rest on your thigh, his fingers now tracing soothing patterns as if to counterbalance the tension on the screen.

as the movie progresses, you notice how both gojo and geto steal glances at you when they think you're not looking, as their innocent touches progress into heavy petting. but there's a moment where you all pause, their movements stop, and you all look at each other as the loud sounds of exaggerated moans blare from the screen.

“i always forget this scene is in there,” gojo lies, with a snicker, an appreciative smile forming on his face as he watches the scene.gojo's arm remains draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm, while geto's touch has grown increasingly intimate, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles.

“oh don’t bullshit satoru,” geto accuses, taking his hand off of you for a second to send a jab into gojo’s side, “i know you’re getting off on watching this ditzy blonde getting laid.”

“not true,” gojo retorts childishly, “i think there’s better sights to get off on, isn’t that right?” he finishes casting his eyes, not so subtly, over to you.

“well i can’t lie and say the sights aren’t… appealing,” geto grins his hands coming back on you, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“you two are such guys,” you laugh, trying to remain nonchalant even though on the inside the pace of your heart was quickening, and every touch of their fingers sends jolts straight to your core. “you’re focusing on the wrong things here.”

“and what should we be focusing on here?” geto murmurs at you, you couldn’t see his face but you knew a smirk was plastered across it. his challenge hangs in the air as you pause, hesitating as you scan the room, your eyes meeting gojo’s trying to gauge if they are thinking what you are. geto can sense your hesitation as he feels your breathing still as you lean against him, so he pulls his finger under your chin turning your head to face him. “let us focus on you, come here.”

you lean in, his lips enclosing on yours in a deep kiss, you turn your body almost straddling him so you could get better access. his tongue enters your mouth, as his hands work down your body, and as the kiss intensifies, you’re aware of gojo’s gaze on you. you extend an inviting hand toward him, flashing him a smile as you pull away from geto and set your lips on your other friend.

gojo groans as your lips work with his, and his hands go straight into his pants, fisting his dick that has been hard all night just at the sight of you. geto cascades kisses down your neck as he starts to pull your shirt up off of you, you gasp at the feeling of both of their hands and lips all over you.

“h-how long have you two been planning this one then, huh?” you grin, a laugh escaping through your moans, as you let geto get rid of your shirt, assisting gojo with taking off your pants. 

“how long have we known you?” geto responds rhetorically, and gojo nod in agreement, as they both take off their jogging bottoms, leaving you all sitting on the couch in your underwear. there is no more hesitation, or uncertainty between you three—you all know exactly what you want.

“so who gets to have me first?” you joke, your eyes darting between the two of them, their lustful eyes are unmistakable as they stare at your body, their dicks straining against their boxers ready to be suffocated by your tight pussy.

“i get to!” gojo sputters out quickly, but he’s not as swift as geto who’s already pulled you back onto him, his fingers pushing into you without any warning. your mouth parts, as you let out a whine, as his long digits give your pussy fast, relentless strokes, he adds another finger, smirking as your body buckles against his. “hey no fair!” gojo pouts, side eyeing geto, but he can’t help biting his lip as he hears your cunt squelch everytime his best friend shoves his fingers into it.

“don’t worry, ‘toru,” geto reassures, his fingers curling up into you before he pulls it out swiftly, spreading your pussy apart and giving gojo a knowing look, “there’s room for the both of us.”

gojo eagerly drives his fingers into you from behind, his body pressing against yours as he charges your fingers into you. your moans increase as you feel a flurry of digits explore your pussy, gojo’s hand grips on his shoulder and geto hand holds your waist as they both tug your body back and forth in an attempt to get you closer to them.

“s-shit” you cry out, as you clench around their fingers, trying to keep them inside of you. you grind down against both of their fingers, your whimpers encouraging them to twist and push their fingers deeper into you.

“you see how much of a mess she gets for us?” geto asks gojo with a low chuckle, and gojo nods, smiling as the wetness of your pussy allows for his fingers to slide into you with ease, “press down on her clit. hard.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” gojo mutters, but he does it anyway. his thumb going straight to your clit, pushing down on it, smirking as you groan your back arching right into him. 

“see i told you,” geto chimes, laughing as gojo glares at him. geto’s focus shifts to you, as he pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to your mouth, he holds your chin, placing his thumb on your bottom lip as he raises his eyebrows at you for permission. you nod lazily, opening your mouth, accepting two of his fingers —which are drenched in your juices. “‘toru, you gonna finish her off for me.”

gojo smirks, his fingers working in overdrive, as he adds another digit inside of you and you could feel yourself about to release. geto can tell you're close from the way you bite down on his fingers. “you close? you gonna cum on satoru’s fingers as you taste yourself?”

you couldn’t even respond, as your cum sprays all over gojo’s fingers and geto’s stomach. the boys both smirk at each other, as they hear your high pitched moans and see heaps of your cum spilling out of your pussy running down your thighs. gojo is in awe, his fingers still remain in you and he pushes them up lazily, trying to keep you plugged with your cum. you relax onto his fingers, letting him do as he pleases, as you try and catch your breath your body slumping onto geto’s.

“you did so well,” geto praises in his air, lifting up your head off your chest, pecking your lips softly. “you took both of our fingers letting us stretch your tight pussy, it felt good didn’t it?” 

“y-yeah it felt so good sugu,” you sigh, turning your head to face gojo, as you pull him closer into you, “you both felt so good.”

“you wanna let us stuff you further?” gojo questions eagerly, his hard dick resting on your ass, as rocks against you.

“satoru,” geto reprimands, shaking his head at his friends over excitement. but gojo shoots him a look shrugging as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, practically inhaling you.

“but suguru, she wants us both to stuff her,” he argues, as fingers already go back to your sobbing cunt. “you want that dont you?” he whispers, directly in your ear, slowly coaxing your pussy with soft strokes as he murmurs in your ear. “you want me and sugu to shove our dicks right up your pussy, together.”

“i don’t know if i can…” you hesitate, your voice faltering, but you pull your lip between your teeth, closing your eyes as you think about taking both of them.

“c’mon pretty girl,” geto persuades you, forcing you to open your eyes and look at the teasing smirk on your face, “don’t think we don’t know how slutty you can be. you know your greedy little cunt take both of us with ease, and you want it to, don't you?” you nod your head slowly in agreement, but geto shakes his, “no, we need to hear you say it. use your words. tell us what you want.”

“i want your dicks to stuff my pussy,” you admit, feeling your confidence grow as the smirk on geto’s face widens and you can hear gojo lowly growl in your ear. “i need it.”

“well we have to give our girl what she wants, right sugu?” gojo taunts, pulling you off of gojo and onto his lap, his dick slaps against your pussy. “suguru got to see your pretty face, before, so this time you’re all mine, okay?” gojo says to you, and you could hear geto kiss his teeth, but he obliges letting gojo have his way this time. 

“you ready for me?” gojo asks, waiting for your approval as he lifts you up slightly over his dick, he even looks over to geto he leans back against the couch, with his dick in his hand. you don’t even answer gojo, sliding down onto gojo as you moan together.

geto fists his dick at the sight, “go on satoru, fuck her,” he orders, his strokes increasing as he watches as gojo begin to thrust into you. your hands press down on gojo’s shoulder’s as you start to bounce on him, you lean forward whining straight in his ear, causing him fuck you harder.

gojo plays with your bra strap, pulling it and letting it release against your shoulder, “i don’t know why you’ve still got this on,” he complains, as brings his hands to the clasp of your bra, undoing it. your tits bounce as he pulls off your bra, and both boys smile at the sight. gojo’s fingers pull against both of your nipples, twisting and pulling at them causing you to cry at every tug. “so sensitive,” he mutters to himself, touching your tits inquisitively as he continues to toy with them, loving how with every touch your cries grow louder.

“it’s crazy how we stretched you so well earlier, but your pussy is still tight as fuck,” gojo comments, his words punctuated with every thrust. “i had all my fingers inside of you already, but your cock hungry cunt just can’t seem to get enough.”

“is he fucking you good?” geto calls, feeling himself about to cum, as he rubs against his dick hard. you look over to him and smile, nodding quickly as you wrap your hands around gojos neck, clinging to him as his dick drives into you. geto stands up, coming up behind you pressing a kiss on your neck, “you need me to help get you off?”

“she doesn’t need anything from you, i’m doing just fine,” gojo mumbles, but he lets you slightly raise up off of his dick and he smirks as he feels geto join him, geto’s dick presses against gojo in excitement as they wait in anticipation for you to enclose them with your pussy. 

“don’t be nervous,” geto coos from behind you, nipping at your ear. you look at gojo and he gives you an encouraging nod, and you slide back down onto them hissing in slight pain as you feel them both enter you. “it’s okay pretty, you’re doing so so well,” geto continues to reassure you, pressing soothing kisses down your neck, his lips sucking at your flesh. you all pause as you fully take them both in, and you feel the pain subside smiling at gojo giving him permission to move. 

geto follows suit, and you all move in tandem, fucking against each other. gojo places his hands on your ass, pushing your cheeks in pace with his movements whereas geto’s hands cup your tits, holding them firmly as he spreads his fingers over your nipples, rolling them.

“fu-fuck you two are too big, you can’t” you whine, clawing against gojo’s chest. they were both drilling into you relentlessly, you couldn’t catch your breath as every second you were being double stuffed with dick. tears spring to your eyes, as you cry out in pleasure, grinding down against them trying to get as much as them as possible. 

“if only you could see how slutty our girl looks,” gojo says to geto, as he watches your head fall back, another moan escaping your lips. “her eyes are all glossed over, she’s fucking crying, all slutted out on our dicks right now.”

“is that so?” geto mutters, he forces himself into you deeper, his back hitching up against yours, his clench on your tits tightening as he inches himself in your pussy, his hips slapping against you. “she’s such a good slut, i knew she’d be able to take us well, and look she’s loving it, already creaming all over us, isn’t that baby?”

you nod, your hand coming up to hold geto’s head as he nestles into your neck. you were losing your train of thought, you wanted to tell them how good they felt, how their dicks rubbing against each other in you was all you needed for the rest of you life, but when you open your mouth all that can leave your lips is incoherent words and moans. 

both of them smile, watching as you come undone on their dicks. gojo gives geto a nod, and their hands trade places. gojos fingers coming back to your tits, rubbing and pushing them apart before lowering his head to your chest, nuzzling your boobs. gojo and geto were so close that some things between them didn’t need to be spoken, and they were so close to you that they knew your body in and out. they knew when to push and pull, and where to suck just to get you cumming their lap.

“i’m s-so close, i’m gonna cu—” you try and speak out, but your mind is too far gone for you to finish. their dicks slip out of you as your bounces become sloppy, the pleasure too much for you but geto forces you back muttering reassurance in your neck. and the sudden contact causes you to cum, you release all over both them, but they don’t stop their movements, their dicks driving into you still, pushing back in all the cum you were letting out.

“satoru, we gonna give our girl one final stuffing?” geto prompts, and gojo nods, they both give you one final push and you could feel your pussy stretch as their cum sprays your walls. you wail out, the tears streaming your face as your body jerks forward, feeling their dicks go limp inside of you as you all pant in pleasure.

“that was fucking amazing,” gojo praises, a blissful smile on his face as he leans back his head resting on his arms. you return his smile, your lips meeting his in a quick kiss, that he groans at as you pull away. you come off his dick slowly, all of your eyes staring at the ropes of cum that immediately spill out of your pussy as he unplugs you. 

geto turns your head to face him, his dick still lodged deeply inside of you, he pulls you into a long kiss, his mouth smothering yours. he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, roughly biting down on it before releasing you, his hand cupping your chin, forcing you to stare up at him “you’re mine, my pretty slutty mess.”

“um she’s ours,” gojo chimes in, but geto shrugs, not caring to listen to your other friend. geto, finally pulls you off his dick, and your pussy clenches around nothing, already missing the feeling of their dicks.

“you too always know to take good care of me,” you exhale, exhausted your pussy sore about being stretched open by the two of them. geto pulls you back into his original hold, leaning back against his chest, and your legs stretch over gojo’s lap. but this time instead of innocent gentle touches, geto’s hands lazily tug at your nipples, and gojo caresses your naked thighs, his fingers flicking at your clit every now and again.

“that’s what friends are for,” geto muses, pressing his lips against your cheek before saying, “now satoru, are you gonna press play on this shitty movie or what?”

AN: ight so there you have it my FIRST FIC of kinktober, what do you guys think I need to hear all your thoughts since Ooooof this took me so long to write. so I hope it is worth it. also if you see my bias towards geto during this then LOOK AWAY, im sorry gojo stans but im a geto lover foreverrr. but yeahhh lmk ur thoughts stay tuned for my other kink tober fics which WILL be on time I promise smooches.

[cookielixie]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 || 𝐥.𝐟. 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A group of meddling friends, a sprig of mistletoe, and a month full of holiday mischief—what could go wrong? For Y/n and Felix, their obliviousness to their own feelings is only rivaled by their friends’ determination to push them together. As December unfolds, so do a series of awkward, sweet, and unexpected moments that might just make this Christmas unforgettable. 

pairing: lee felix x reader

wordcount: 8k

genre/warnings: college!au, best friends to lovers, friends meddling, mistletoe mishaps, awkward encounters, two very oblivious idiots, suggestive content (like a tiny bit), tooth rotting fluff, mentions of alcohol and partying and a smidge of angst. I guess minsung if u squint

A/N: This has been a wip for like... three years now lmao. i really hope you guys like it, feedback and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated <3 also english is not my first language... so yeah sorry if there are any mistakes

It all started with something simple—shared morning lattes and soft exchanges of “good morning” during your early lectures. Those small, fleeting moments quietly grew into endless hours spent together, until you and Felix became nearly inseparable. The group noticed quickly. The way your laughter came easier when he was around, the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought no one was looking—it was hard to miss. And though you both insisted it was just friendship, the boys could see the truth: you were smitten, both of you, even if you were too stubborn or oblivious to admit it.  

As the year went on, the group quietly rooted for something more to happen. There was an undeniable chemistry between you, a natural ease that left everyone wondering when—not if—you’d finally realize your feelings for each other. But no matter how much teasing or hinting was thrown your way, you both deflected it with flustered laughs and hasty denials. Every attempt to nudge you closer ended the same, with perfect excuses and an almost comical level of obliviousness.  

Eventually, the boys eased off, figuring you’d figure it out on your own. But when December rolled around, your dynamic began to shift. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit, or maybe it was just the closeness that winter seemed to bring, but the two of you became even more inseparable—more clingy, more obviously something.  

It was late November when the group gathered at Chan’s place, watching the two of you from afar and exchanging knowing looks. They’d waited long enough. If gentle teasing and subtle hints weren’t going to work, maybe it was time to take matters into their own hands. Armed with a sprig of mistletoe, a little holiday mischief, and a determination to finally get you two to confess, they began crafting their foolproof plan. This Christmas, one way or another, you and Felix would stop denying what everyone else already knew.  

December 1st:

To kick off the Christmas season, everyone had gathered at Changbin’s for the monthly movie night. Everyone except you and Felix, of course, who were running late after your evening lecture together. The rest of the group had already settled in: Jisung and Minho were cracking open beers and chatting by the couch, Chan and Seungmin were busy piling blankets and pillows onto every available surface, while Hyunjin and Jeongin hovered over the snacks, stealing bites when they thought no one was looking.  

Changbin, meanwhile, was in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a frantic expression and sweat beading on his forehead. His white t-shirt clung to him, dark spots blooming around the neckline. He’d spent the last hour scrambling to prepare what could only be described as a chaotic masterpiece.  

He held the item up in his hands, tilting it left and right under the kitchen light to inspect its durability. It was a long, slender branch, stripped of its excess twigs and carefully wrapped in duct tape. At the tip dangled a sprig of mistletoe, the final touch to what he jokingly called his “cupid’s staff.” After months of teasing, jokes, and failed schemes to push you and Felix closer, drastic measures were now on the table.  

“Hey, you almost done in here?” Chan’s head popped around the doorframe, startling Changbin. “They’re on their way.”  

Changbin glanced at his creation one last time before sighing. “I have no idea if this’ll work,” he muttered, holding it like a fragile relic.  

Chan smirked, his eyes turning into crescents. “It’s worth a shot. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.” He gave Changbin an encouraging pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the living room. Changbin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help grinning as he cleaned up the remnants of his “art project.”  

When you and Felix finally arrived, your shared giggles preceded you, drawing attention as you stepped through the door. The others didn’t waste a second guiding you both to the loveseat—a small, almost comically cramped piece of furniture. You were forced to sit shoulder-to-shoulder, your legs draped casually across Felix’s lap. The closeness didn’t seem to bother either of you, and soon a comfortable silence fell over the room as the opening credits of the movie began to roll.  

Changbin bided his time, waiting until everyone was engrossed in the movie before slipping away to retrieve his cupid’s branch. “Bathroom break,” he muttered, his heart pounding as he snuck the mistletoe stick out of its hiding spot.  

Returning to the room, he carefully hid the branch behind his back as he took his seat. Minho noticed immediately, raising a brow and stifling a laugh, which, of course, drew your attention.  

“What’s so funny, Min?” you asked, glancing over.  

Changbin shot Minho a deadly glare, silently mouthing, Don’t you dare. Minho, however, didn’t even glance back at him. Instead, he deadpanned, “Changbin’s face. It’s just… always funny.”  

The group erupted into laughter, with Seungmin letting out a snort loud enough to shake the pillows. “Minho, I swear, one of these days, I’m going to drop a dumbbell on you at the gym,” Changbin snapped, though the threat lacked any real malice.  

Minho gasped dramatically, turning away with an exaggerated pout. “Whatever, I’m cuddling Jisung now. At least he appreciates me.”  

Jisung, already sitting beside him, slung an arm over Minho’s shoulders. “I got you, Min,” he said with mock sincerity.  

The laughter settled, and everyone turned back to the screen. Everyone except Changbin, who gripped his mistletoe stick like it was Excalibur, waiting for the perfect moment. He threw a quick glance in your direction and couldn’t help but smirk. Your head was now leaning against Felix’s shoulder, your face nestled into the crook of his neck, while his hand rested lightly on your thigh. Felix’s ears were burning red, a clear giveaway of how flustered he was despite his calm expression. You’re making this way too easy for me, Changbin thought, adjusting his grip on the branch.  

Unbeknownst to Changbin, your thoughts were far away from the movie. When did he become so beautiful? you wondered for the hundredth time since you’d met Felix. Tonight, though, the thought felt heavier as you stared at the way the TV’s soft light highlighted his freckles, making his eyes shine like little suns. You’d accepted your feelings for him a long time ago, even if you were convinced they weren’t mutual. You’d come to terms with it—being his friend was enough, wasn’t it? But moments like this, so close to him, made it harder to ignore the small ache in your chest.  

Meanwhile, Felix was doing everything in his power not to look down at you. His heart raced every time your breath fanned against his neck, and the weight of your legs draped over his lap was making it impossible to think straight. He clenched his jaw, his thoughts a chaotic mess. Stop being ridiculous. She doesn’t like you like that. But even as he told himself that, a part of him wished—hoped—that maybe he was wrong.  

That’s when Changbin made his move. Slowly, he leaned forward, positioning the mistletoe just above you and Felix. At first, Felix didn’t notice—his focus was entirely on not pulling you closer. But when a faint movement caught the corner of his eye, his head shot up. His eyes landed on the mistletoe, and his entire body stiffened.  

“What the hell, Changbin?” Felix’s voice came out sharper than intended, snapping everyone’s attention to him. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darted from the mistletoe to Changbin’s sheepish grin.  

“It’s just a bit of fun,” Changbin replied, trying to keep it light. “Tradition, you know?”  

“Yeah, hilarious,” Felix said coldly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He avoided looking at you entirely, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.  

Your stomach sank at his reaction. Does the thought of kissing me disgust him that much? you wondered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you shifted slightly away from him, your heart sinking as your insecurities bubbled to the surface.  

Sensing the tension, Minho quickly stepped in. “Alright, alright, let’s get back to the movie, yeah? Changbin, retire your cupid stick.”  

The awkwardness lingered for the rest of the night, though no one dared to mention the mistletoe again. By the time the movie ended, you and Felix left without so much as a word to each other, the comfortable closeness from earlier now replaced with a noticeable distance.  

As you walked home in opposite directions, the silence between you hung heavy in the air, leaving you both with thoughts you couldn’t bring yourselves to say aloud.  

December 6th:

Minho’s invitation to dinner—just you, Felix, and Jisung—felt like the perfect excuse to shake off the awkwardness lingering from the group’s last gathering. Felix had eagerly agreed, and you didn’t hesitate either. Spending time with him in a smaller, more relaxed setting was always easy. Plus, Minho’s cooking was a draw on its own.  

As you stepped into Minho’s apartment, the warmth and delicious aroma of home-cooked food enveloped you immediately. “Welcome to Minho’s Michelin-star kitchen,” he announced proudly, ushering you inside.  

Jisung, sprawled lazily on the couch, smirked. “Minho’s been on a mission to impress all day. He even cleaned the stove. You better be prepared to cry tears of joy.”  

“Please,” Minho shot back. “You’ll be too busy shoving food into your mouth to cry.”  

Laughing, you made your way to the small dining table set beautifully for four. You slid into your seat beside Felix while Minho and Jisung sat across from you. The atmosphere was cozy, made warmer by the soft yellow light spilling from the lamp above the table.  

The conversation flowed easily as you started eating, a mix of light teasing and genuine updates. Minho, always perceptive, grinned as he turned his attention to you. “So, Y/n, heard you totally destroyed that exam you were stressing over? What’s your secret? Is it some kind of illegal genius potion? Do I need to call someone?”  

You laughed, shaking your head. “No genius potion, just sheer panic, too much coffee, and maybe a sprinkle of luck.” You reached for the salt shaker, but your movement froze as your gaze drifted upward. Dangling from the lamp above the table, hanging innocently over you and Felix, was a sprig of mistletoe.  

Your cheeks instantly heated. Minho and Jisung exchanged amused glances, poorly concealing their smirks as they watched you both. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Felix’s grip tighten slightly on his fork, his gaze firmly planted on his plate. He must have noticed it earlier, but he hadn’t said a word. Of course he hadn’t.  

You cleared your throat, breaking the moment, and continued your original task of grabbing the salt, doing your best to ignore the festive little sprig taunting you from above. Felix didn’t look up once, seemingly invested in rearranging the food on his plate.  

For the rest of the meal, your interactions with Felix felt careful and muted, though you couldn’t help sneaking a few glances his way. Whenever Minho wasn’t looking, you narrowed your eyes at him, your silent death glare saying all the things you couldn’t say out loud. But if he noticed your glare—and he absolutely did—he didn’t seem fazed, calmly serving himself another helping of food and chatting with Jisung about the latest drama in their group of friends.  

By the time dinner ended, the mistletoe still hung over you like an unanswered question, but neither of you dared to acknowledge it. You and Felix thanked Minho for the food and began your walk home in the crisp December night air.  

The silence at first was comfortable, your shoes crunching softly against the pavement. It didn’t take long before Felix cracked a joke about Jisung’s overly dramatic reaction to Minho’s slightly burnt bread rolls, and soon your laughter echoed easily down the quiet street.  

Amidst your conversation, Felix slipped his hand into yours. It wasn’t unusual for you two to hold hands—it was something you’d done before—but tonight it felt different. Maybe it was the warmth of the moment, or maybe it was the quiet intimacy of walking side by side under the twinkling streetlights. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt, as though his hand belonged there.  

Felix glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his soft smile catching the faint glow of the streetlights. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but slightly hesitant, “this kind of feels like… a nice tradition.”  

You tilted your head, squeezing his hand lightly. “What does?”  

“This,” he said, his gaze flicking briefly to your joined hands before he quickly added with a nervous laugh, “You know… just as friends. It’s nice, right? No weird mistletoe stuff this time.”  

Your laugh was light, but something tightened in your chest at his words. “Yeah,” you said softly, glancing ahead. “No surprises hanging over our heads.”  

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. Felix’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if he was afraid you’d pull away, but you didn’t. You kept walking side by side, your steps naturally syncing with each other like they always did.  

His words lingered in your mind, though, the way he so quickly clarified the moment as just friendly. Did he think you might have assumed something else? Had you been assuming something else? The thought stirred uneasily in your chest, but you shook it off, blaming it on the holiday awkwardness that had been following you both since the start of December.  

Beside you, Felix wasn’t any calmer. His heart raced, and he berated himself silently. ‘Why did I say that? Now it’s weird. What if she thinks I’m overthinking? What if she wasn’t thinking about it, but now she is?’ His thoughts swirled in an endless loop of self-doubt, but even amidst the chaos in his mind, he felt the warmth of your hand in his and refused to let go.  

The walk continued, the quiet punctuated by shared smiles and lighthearted comments, both of you silently agreeing not to think too much about the moment. For now, it was enough.  

Unbeknownst to you, Minho and Jisung stood by their apartment window, watching as your figures grew smaller in the distance. “They’re hopeless,” Jisung said with a laugh, shaking his head.  

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, smiling fondly. “But this time, I think they’re starting to get it.”  

December 12th:

Visits to the dance studio where Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix practiced had become a regular part of your routine. You enjoyed seeing the trio perfect their routines and loved bringing them food and drinks as a small gesture of support. Tonight, you decided to surprise them, knowing how late their rehearsals often ran. The thumping bass and sharp rhythm of the music greeted you as you entered the studio, the trio moving in perfect sync with the beat. The energy in the room was magnetic, and you couldn’t help but admire the sheer dedication in each step. For a moment, you stood in the doorway, watching them in awe, before they noticed you.  

Minho spotted you first, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Perfect timing, Y/n! We’re starving,” he announced, cutting the music off as the others collapsed onto the floor in mock exhaustion. Hyunjin dramatically wiped his brow, flopping onto his back. “You’re basically a lifesaver at this point,” he joked, while Felix walked over to you with a shy smile, murmuring a soft “Thanks for coming.”  

You sat down with them on the studio floor, unpacking the food and drinks. The conversation flowed easily, filled with playful teasing and updates about your days. Felix, ever the enthusiastic eater, dove into his food with gusto, but it didn’t take long for disaster to strike. “You’ve got sauce on your face, Felix,” you said, stifling a laugh as you reached for a napkin. Without hesitation, you leaned in to wipe it off.  

But just as your hand neared his face, Hyunjin leaned over you with an outstretched arm, dangling a sprig of mistletoe above your head. “Oops, look at that,” he said with a mischievous grin. Your hand froze midair, your eyes locking on the mistletoe first, then darting to Felix. His eyes were wide, his cheeks already dusted with pink. The moment stretched out awkwardly, your hand only inches from his face, until the reality of the situation hit you like a jolt. You recoiled sharply, your heart racing. “I—I should go,” you stammered, grabbing your bag and standing up so quickly it almost knocked over a drink. “Lots to do tonight, sorry!” Before anyone could say a word, you rushed out of the studio, the door swinging shut behind you.  

The silence left behind was deafening. Felix sat frozen, his hand hovering where yours had been moments before, staring at the door you’d disappeared through. His brow furrowed as a mix of frustration and regret crossed his face. “Hyunjin,” he said slowly, his tone sharp, “what the hell was that? The mistletoe again?”  

Hyunjin blinked, startled by Felix’s tone. “I just thought it’d be funny,” he said defensively, holding the mistletoe up like a white flag. But when Felix’s glare didn’t falter, Hyunjin sighed and dropped the sprig onto the floor. “Look, if you hadn’t reacted so… harshly the first time, maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. I mean, do you even know how much she likes you?”  

Felix’s jaw tightened. “What?” he asked, his voice lower now, but Hyunjin just shook his head, standing up to grab a drink. “Figure it out, man. We’re just trying to help, but it’s like you’re both running away every time something happens.”  

Felix didn’t respond. He stared at the mistletoe on the floor, Hyunjin’s words echoing in his head. If you hadn’t reacted so harshly the first time… maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. Was that true? Had he set this whole thing in motion? He thought back to the first mistletoe incident at Changbin’s—a moment he’d shut down immediately because the idea of forcing you into something like that felt wrong. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured, not when he thought you might find it absolutely weird and deem him a creep or something. But now… was it his reaction that had made things worse? Was he the one creating this distance?  

His chest tightened. He’d thought he was protecting you—protecting your friendship—but maybe he’d only made things more awkward. And now you were running out of rooms because of him. The studio fell quiet again, save for the faint sound of Minho munching on chips. After a long silence, Minho glanced up, leaning forward slightly. “Felix, don’t overthink it,” he said gently, his voice less teasing than usual. “You two always bounce back. Just… maybe next time, don’t run away from the moment, yeah?”  

Felix nodded slowly, Minho’s words sinking in, but he still couldn’t shake the weight in his chest. As rehearsal resumed, he danced on autopilot, his movements mechanical as his mind replayed the night’s events. By the time the music stopped again, one thought was firmly planted in his mind: I can’t let this keep happening. I’ve got to figure out how to make things right with her.  

December 16th:

It had been a few days since the series of awkward holiday encounters—movie night, the dinner at Minho’s, and the fiasco at the dance studio. You and Felix had fallen back into your usual rhythm, or at least, you were trying to. The moments of closeness still felt natural, but there was a tension beneath the surface, a hesitance that hadn’t been there before. You chalked it up to everything that had happened, telling yourself that things would smooth out eventually. 

The two of you were standing by your locker that morning, talking like usual, and for once, it felt normal again. Felix leaned casually against the locker next to yours, his freckled cheeks still slightly pink from the cold outside. 

“I’m calling it now—Chan’s going to make us rewrite our part of the group project by the end of the week,” Felix said with a smirk. “He’s going to find some tiny typo and have an existential crisis about it.” 

You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed a book from your locker. “He’s probably already composing the email. I give him until tomorrow before we get hit with, ‘Just a few more adjustments.’” 

Felix laughed along with you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Moments like this were your favorite—easy, light, like nothing had changed. The awkwardness from the last few days felt far away, almost forgotten. Almost. 

But then Jisung appeared. 

“Wow, if it isn’t my favorite dynamic duo!” he called out, his voice loud enough to draw a few glances from passing students. You turned your head just as he stopped in front of you, his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face. 

“Jisung…” you began cautiously, narrowing your eyes at him. “What are you doing?” 

Instead of answering, he gave you and Felix a mockingly sweet look, then reached up and held something over your heads. Your stomach sank the moment you realized what he was doing. 

Felix noticed immediately too. His laughter faded, and for a split second, he looked up before his eyes flicked to you. But instead of pulling away or frowning like he had the first time, he hesitated, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something. His posture softened, his hand twitching at his side as though he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should. “Y/n, it’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice quiet and careful. 

But you didn’t hear the gentleness in his words. The memory of his sharp reaction the first time flashed in your mind like a warning sign. You panicked, your body stiffening as a heat rose to your face. “Jisung!” you exclaimed, your voice harsher than you intended as you reached out to push him aside. 

He stumbled back with a yelp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Whoa, okay! No need to shove!” he said, though his tone was still playful. 

“I’m not doing this right now,” you muttered, hastily grabbing your bag. Your eyes didn’t meet Felix’s, even as you felt his gaze lingering on you. “I’ve got to get to class.” 

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Felix and Jisung standing there in the middle of the hallway. 

The silence between them was heavy for a moment, until Jisung let out a low whistle. “Well, that didn’t go as planned,” he muttered, looking at Felix. 

Felix was still staring down the hall, his expression hard to read. His arms hung at his sides, his shoulders tense. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but laced with frustration. “Why do you keep doing that, Jisung?” 

Jisung blinked. “Doing what?” 

Felix turned to him, his jaw tight. “This. Pushing her like that. It’s not helping.” 

Jisung tilted his head, holding his hands up defensively. “Whoa, relax, man. I thought you two were back to normal. You were laughing and talking like nothing was wrong—I figured maybe this time, it wouldn’t be a big deal.” 

Felix ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “Well, it is a big deal. She’s already uncomfortable with everything that’s happened, and now she’s just…” He trailed off, his voice growing softer. “She probably thinks I don’t want this. That I don’t want her.” 

Jisung frowned, his usual playful expression replaced by something more serious. “You don’t think she knows how you feel?” 

Felix let out a short, humorless laugh. “How could she? The first time this happened, I acted like the whole idea was some big joke. She probably thinks the idea of… of anything between us is disgusting to me.” He leaned back against the lockers, his gaze falling to the floor. “But it’s not. It’s the opposite. I just didn’t want her to feel pressured into anything. I thought I was doing the right thing.” 

Jisung studied him for a moment, then let out a sigh. “Look, man, maybe it’s time to stop trying to protect her from something she doesn’t need protecting from. I mean, she’s clearly as caught up in her head as you are. Maybe instead of freaking out, you could, I don’t know, actually say something next time?” 

Felix looked up at him, frowning. “Say what?” 

Jisung smirked faintly, patting Felix on the shoulder. “Figure it out. Just… do something before she sprints away again. You’re both miserable, and it’s kind of painful to watch.” 

And with that, Jisung walked off, leaving Felix standing alone in the hallway. Felix let out another sigh, leaning his head back against the lockers. 

Maybe Jisung’s right, he thought, the idea twisting in his chest. She probably thinks I don’t want her. But what if she… what if she doesn’t want me either? 

The thought made his stomach churn, but as he stood there, staring down the hallway where you’d disappeared, he resolved to himself that next time—if there was a next time—he wouldn’t let things end like this. 

December 20th:

The soft hum of Christmas music filled the cozy café where you worked, the glow of fairy lights strung along the walls casting a warm, festive ambiance. The evening shift had been slow, with only the occasional customer trickling in, leaving you and Jeongin plenty of time to chat and clean. When the bells above the door jingled, you glanced up, immediately spotting Felix stepping in from the cold. A puff of white breath escaped his lips as he unwrapped the scarf from his neck, his cheeks and nose flushed pink from the chilly December air. He looked tired but happy, and his face lit up when he saw you behind the counter. 

“Felix!” you called out, leaning slightly over the counter to greet him. “Done with your last exam?” 

He grinned as he approached, his hair falling into his eyes. “Finally. I think my brain is fried, but at least I’m free now.” He leaned an elbow on the counter, his usual casual charm impossible to miss. “I needed a victory coffee, and I figured my favorite barista would hook me up.” 

You snorted, grabbing a cup and heading toward the espresso machine. “Victory coffee, huh? Is that what we’re calling it? Be honest—did you crush it or barely survive?” 

“Crushed it,” he replied quickly, then laughed. “Okay, fine. Maybe there was a little panic halfway through the essay. But come on, you try remembering six economic theories when you’re running on two hours of sleep.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you started making his coffee. “Sounds like someone should’ve had one more latte before heading in. Caffeine solves everything, you know.” 

“Ah, yes, the secret to success: caffeine addiction,” he teased, resting both elbows on the counter now as he watched you work. Jeongin, wiping down tables nearby, snorted loud enough to make Felix glance his way. 

“She doesn’t give just anyone free coffee, you know,” Jeongin quipped. “You must be special.” 

Felix smirked, his gaze flickering to yours. “Guess I’m her favorite.” 

You felt your cheeks flush but kept your focus on the coffee machine, pretending his words hadn’t made your heart skip. “Careful, sunshine boy, or I’ll start charging you double.” 

Jeongin grinned knowingly but didn’t push it, disappearing into the back as you handed Felix his coffee. He took a sip, sighing dramatically as though it were the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Perfect, as always.” 

You leaned forward on the counter, resting your chin in your hand as you laughed. “I’ll take that as a five-star Yelp review.” 

“You’d get six stars if you threw in a cookie,” he joked, and just like that, the conversation flowed effortlessly. It didn’t matter how awkward things had been between you recently—when it was just the two of you, everything else seemed to melt away. Felix’s freckled cheeks were still pink from the cold, and the warmth in his eyes as he smiled at you made your stomach flip, though you tried to ignore it. 

The café was quiet, the snow falling softly outside making the whole world feel muffled and still. Felix leaned closer over the counter, his chin propped on his hand now, mirroring your posture as you teased him about his exam. He was laughing again, the sound low and sweet, and you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t notice how close you’d both leaned toward each other. The space between you was practically nonexistent, and your heart was thudding in your chest, though you weren’t sure why. 

But Felix did notice. Just as his gaze flickered to your lips, a movement caught the corner of his eye. He stilled, his laughter fading as his focus shifted. There, by the pastry case, was Jeongin. He was leaning casually against the counter, a smug grin plastered across his face as he held something above your heads. 

Felix’s stomach twisted when he realized what it was: a sprig of mistletoe, dangling lazily from Jeongin’s hand. His initial instinct was to groan or roll his eyes, to glare at Jeongin for meddling again. But then his gaze returned to you. You were still smiling, your eyes shining as you waited for him to say something, completely unaware of Jeongin’s antics. 

Felix hesitated. He knew how you felt about the mistletoe by now—how every prank this month had left you retreating, flustered and unsure. But something about the way you were looking at him right now, so close and unguarded, made him want to push past the awkwardness and take the chance. Maybe this was his moment to show you how he really felt. 

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. “Can I tell you something?” 

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued, though you tried to keep your tone light. “You’re not about to say something cheesy, are you?” 

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine, and his gaze softened as he leaned in slightly. “Maybe. But you make it kinda hard not to.” 

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back some teasing remark, but before you could, Felix closed the space between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. The warmth of his lips spread across your skin, catching you so off guard that you froze. For a moment, everything seemed to stand still, the café quiet except for the soft hum of holiday music. But just as your heart started to flutter, your eyes flicked upward—and you saw it. 

There, held high above your heads, was Jeongin’s hand. He was leaning against the counter, the branch in his grip swaying slightly, his grin practically splitting his face in two. 

The giddy warmth from Felix’s kiss vanished, replaced by a sinking feeling in your chest. Of course. Of course Jeongin had been watching, meddling, dangling his stupid branch like some kind of cupid. You stepped back from Felix slightly, your hand brushing your cheek where his lips had been moments before, and let out a nervous laugh. 

“Wow, smooth, Felix,” you said lightly, though your voice felt hollow even to your own ears. You avoided his gaze, your chest tightening with doubt. He’d kissed you, sure, but was it because he wanted to—or because Jeongin had been standing there, making it impossible not to? The thought twisted painfully in your stomach, and you turned your attention to Jeongin, your expression hardening. “And you! Don’t you have anything better to do than play cupid?” 

Jeongin grinned shamelessly, lowering the branch. “Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ as he straightened up. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

You rolled your eyes and busied yourself behind the counter, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. You could feel Felix’s gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. The moment had been so sweet, so perfect, but now it just felt like a game—like all the other forced encounters this month. The thought of it being anything other than real made your chest ache. 

Felix stood there, his own chest tightening as he watched you. He hadn’t missed the way your expression changed the second you noticed Jeongin, how you’d pulled away like the kiss had meant nothing. His grip on his coffee cup tightened, frustration and regret bubbling inside him. He’d kissed you because he wanted to, but now it felt like everything had been ruined by that stupid sprig of greenery. 

Later, as Jeongin wiped down a table nearby, Felix caught his eye. “Really?” Felix said, his voice low as he gestured toward the branch now lying on the counter. “You couldn’t help yourself?” 

Jeongin smirked, completely unbothered. “You two were this close. I just gave you a little push.” 

Felix sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She probably thinks I only kissed her because of you.” 

“Well,” Jeongin said, raising an eyebrow, “did you?” 

Felix glared at him, his voice soft but firm. “No. I kissed her because I wanted to.” 

Jeongin tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost understanding. “Then maybe next time, let her know that. Don’t let me or some stupid branch do it for you.” 

Felix stayed quiet, his eyes flicking toward the counter where you stood, your back still turned to him. Jeongin’s words echoed in his head as he finished his coffee, determination slowly building in his chest. If there was going to be a next time, he wouldn’t leave any room for doubt. Not this time.

December 22nd:

The Christmas party was in full swing, and Chan’s apartment buzzed with the energy of a group finally free from the weight of exams. The music pulsed softly in the background—a mix of festive classics and whatever Jisung had decided to throw into the playlist for chaos. Colored lights blinked unevenly from every corner, their soft glow bathing the room in warmth, while an unsteady Christmas tree leaned dramatically in the corner, its precarious decorations the result of Minho’s refusal to let anyone touch “his masterpiece.” The air was thick with the scent of mulled wine, spiked hot chocolate, and cinnamon candles that Minho had insisted were “mandatory for the aesthetic.” Empty bottles and half-eaten snacks littered the table, and Santa hats had somehow found their way onto everyone’s heads, whether willingly or not. 

In the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, cradling a drink that had gone lukewarm in your hand. Minho stood opposite you, arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watched you with laser focus. The noise from the living room spilled faintly into the space—Jeongin’s laughter cutting through Chan’s groan of defeat, the clinking of glasses, and Jisung’s exaggerated rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock.” 

Minho raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as he studied you. “Alright, what’s going on?” 

You blinked, startled. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Minho said, gesturing toward the door with his glass, “that you’ve been glancing at Felix every five minutes like you’re in a cheesy holiday rom-com, and you’ve barely said three words to him all night. Spill.” 

You groaned, setting your drink down on the counter with a little too much force. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, though even you didn’t believe it. “That’s the problem.” 

Minho’s smirk softened, and he leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze not letting you escape. “You know you can talk to me, right? I’m like a free therapist. Minus the therapy license. And the emotional sensitivity.” 

You let out a soft laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “It’s just… complicated,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “This whole mistletoe thing—it’s made everything so weird. And now I feel like I don’t even know where I stand with him. What if all those moments didn’t mean anything? What if he only kissed me at the café because Jeongin was standing there waiting for him to do it?” 

Minho let out a long, exasperated sigh, setting his glass down with a dramatic flourish. “Y/n, listen to me. Felix isn’t the kind of guy who does something just because someone else expects him to. If he kissed you, it’s because he wanted to. End of story. Trust me, I’ve known him for years.” 

You frowned, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I say something, and it ruins everything?” 

Minho gave you a rare, sincere look, his tone softening. “Then at least you’ll know. But, Y/n, come on. The guy looks at you like you hung the stars. You’ve seen it, right? He’s just as caught up in this as you are. But if you don’t talk to him, you’re both gonna keep circling each other forever.” 

You hesitated, the weight of his words settling over you. “You’re really annoying, you know that?” you muttered, picking up your glass again. 

Minho grinned, raising his own glass in a mock toast. “And yet, I’m always right.” 

Across the room, Felix was perched on the edge of the couch, swirling his drink absently as he stared out the window. The faint glow of the city lights reflected in his dark eyes, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He barely noticed the snow falling in lazy flurries, his mind too busy replaying every moment from the past month—the awkwardness, the misunderstandings, and most of all, the way you’d pulled away at the café after Jeongin’s mistletoe stunt. He kept asking himself the same question: Had he ruined it? Had his hesitation made you think he didn’t care? 

Hyunjin plopped down beside him, dragging him back to the present with an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, sunshine boy, what’s your deal?” 

Felix blinked, startled. “What?” 

“You’ve been sulking in the corner all night,” Hyunjin said, poking him in the ribs with a candy cane. “Which, like, fine, maybe it’s your broody winter aesthetic or whatever, but it’s starting to get depressing. What’s going on?” 

Felix let out a soft groan, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing.” 

“Oh, it’s definitely not nothing,” Seungmin interjected from across the room, where he was perched on the armrest of the couch. “Even Changbin noticed, and he’s been halfway through that punch bowl for the last hour.” 

Changbin, who was indeed holding another cup of punch, nodded sagely. “Yeah, man. You’ve been staring at Y/n like she’s the last piece of cake at the bakery.” 

Felix groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not staring.” 

Hyunjin snorted. “Right. Sure. You’re just ‘coincidentally’ looking in her direction every thirty seconds.” 

Felix dropped his hands, shooting them a glare. “I don’t know, okay? The whole mistletoe thing has been a mess, and I feel like every time I try to fix it, I just make things worse. She probably thinks I only kissed her at the café because Jeongin was watching.” 

Hyunjin tilted his head, studying Felix’s slumped posture. “Or—and hear me out—maybe she’s just as scared as you are. Look, Felix, if you want her to know how you feel, you’re gonna have to stop tiptoeing around it. None of this ‘reading between the lines’ crap. Just tell her.” 

Felix’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen, where he could just make out the edge of your figure as you leaned against the counter, talking to Minho. His chest tightened. “Yeah,” he said softly. “You’re right.” 

Hyunjin grinned, clapping him on the back. “Of course I am.” 

The Christmas party had settled into a quieter rhythm, the earlier chaos giving way to a warm buzz of chatter and laughter. Chan’s apartment still brimmed with festive energy—colored lights blinked unevenly from the walls, and the half-decorated tree leaned at an almost comical angle, as though too tired to stand upright after hosting a steady stream of Santa hats and selfies. The scent of mulled wine, cinnamon candles, and something suspiciously burnt wafted through the air, mingling with the faint sounds of Christmas music pulsing from Jisung’s chaotic playlist. 

You needed air. The heat of the apartment and the weight of your swirling thoughts had become too much, so you’d slipped out onto the balcony unnoticed. The cold December breeze bit at your skin, sharp and refreshing, as you leaned against the railing and stared out at the snow-dusted city below. The streetlights illuminated the falling snow like glitter, and for a moment, you let the quiet settle over you, a sharp contrast to the hum of energy inside. 

Your mind, however, refused to settle. It was caught in a loop, replaying every mistletoe encounter from the past month—the awkward laughter, the stolen glances, the kiss at the café. No matter how hard you tried to push it away, one thought kept returning: Did any of it really mean something? Or had Felix simply gone along with it because he felt like he had to? 

The sliding door opened behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder, startled. Felix stepped out, his scarf loosely draped around his neck, and the faint glow from the apartment lit up his freckles like constellations. His cheeks were pink, whether from the cold or the warmth of the party, you weren’t sure. He hesitated for a moment, looking at you like he wasn’t entirely sure he was welcome, before closing the door behind him and stepping closer. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the breeze. 

“Hey,” you replied, your breath visible in the cold as you turned back to the view. 

For a few moments, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching between you like the snowfall. Felix shifted beside you, leaning on the railing, close enough that his elbow almost brushed yours. You could feel his presence without looking at him, and the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. 

“Can we talk?” he asked finally, his voice hesitant but steady. 

You nodded, your pulse quickening. “Yeah. We probably should.” 

Felix let out a slow breath, his hands gripping the railing as he looked out at the city. “This whole month has been… a lot,” he started, his voice low. “The mistletoe, the teasing, all of it—it made everything feel so much more complicated than it needed to be. And I know I didn’t exactly handle it well.” He paused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “The night at Changbin’s… when I reacted the way I did—it wasn’t because I didn’t want to kiss you.” 

You turned to look at him, your chest tightening. “Then why?” 

Felix hesitated, his brows furrowing as he stared down at his hands. “Because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I didn’t want you to think I was only doing it because they were watching. I didn’t want it to feel like some stupid joke.” His voice softened, and he finally looked up to meet your gaze. “I wanted it to be real. And I didn’t want to ruin anything between us by making it weird.” 

Your breath caught, and you felt the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And I didn’t want you to kiss me because of them either,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I wanted you to kiss me because you wanted to. Not because of some stupid branch, or a game, or anything else.” 

Felix’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. “Y/n,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “that’s the only reason I’ve ever wanted to kiss you.” 

The rawness in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart felt like it might burst. The tension between you was electric, the cold air forgotten as his gaze held yours, unflinching and unguarded. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Felix spotted something on the small table beside you. 

He let out a soft laugh, breaking the moment as he reached for it. In his hand was a familiar sprig of greenery—another mistletoe branch, as though the universe itself had been conspiring against you all month. Felix raised it above your heads, a playful smile tugging at his lips despite the nervous edge in his eyes. 

“Well,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement, “it wouldn’t be Christmas without one of these, right?” 

You stared at the mistletoe for a moment, your emotions a tangled mess of warmth, frustration, and something close to defiance. Then, without a word, you grabbed the branch from his hand, stepped back, and threw it over the railing. The sprig disappeared into the night, swallowed by the snow below. 

“To hell with that,” you said, your voice steady but breathless. 

Before Felix could react, you closed the distance between you, your hands cupping his face as you leaned in and kissed him. His lips were warm despite the cold, soft and tentative for half a second before he responded, his hands gently settling on your waist like he was afraid you might disappear. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like the two of you were pouring every unsaid word, every missed moment, into it. The rest of the world faded away—there was no snow, no cold, no noise from the party inside. There was only him. 

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the frosty air. Felix’s eyes fluttered open, and his freckled cheeks were flushed, his lips tugging into a soft, disbelieving smile. 

“Wow,” he said, his voice low and full of awe. “That was definitely all you.” 

You laughed, your hands still resting against his cheeks. “Yeah, it was.” 

The tender moment was shattered by a loud thump against the glass door. Both of you whipped around to see the boys pressed up against the balcony window—Hyunjin, Jisung, Jeongin, Seungmin, Changbin, Chan, and Minho, all grinning like they’d just won the lottery. Minho smirked as he exchanged a smug high-five with Chan, while Jisung mimed wiping a fake tear from his cheek. 

Felix groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as his ears burned red. “They’re the worst.” 

You couldn’t stop laughing, wrapping your arms around him as you leaned your cheek against his hair. “Yeah,” you said, smiling as the snow continued to fall softly around you. “But maybe we owe them for this one.” 

[guilty-ff]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐭.4

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Previously: Y/N, restrained and tortured, learns from Francis that her regeneration causes others to suffer in her place. As the pain intensifies, she weakly mutters his name before passing out.

This story takes place between the second and third movies (warning: not 100% movie/comic accurate)

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Reader

Genre: Angst, revenge, Fanfiction, Marvel

Warnings: Movie Spoilers! Explicit content, swearing, torture, mental health, weapons

Word count: 3927

Wade was a broken man, trapped in a relentless cycle of despair and obsession. His life, once marked by chaos and humor, had become an endless string of sleepless nights and futile searches.

The warehouse, which had once been a safe place of his independence and creativity, was now a pitiful reflection of his deteriorating mental state. It was cluttered with stacks of documents, photographs pinned disorganised on the walls, and maps dotted with red circles and frantic scribbles. Every inch of the space was covered in evidence of his failed search for Y/n, and the air was stuffy with the odor of stale coffee and unwashed clothes.

Wade's physical appearance mirrored his mental decline. He had lost weight, his once muscular frame now gaunt and sickly. His suit, once his pride, was now old and stained. The red and black fabric was faded, a wretched testament to his endless struggles.

His face, usually masked by his signature humor, was now painted with deep lines of exhaustion and despair. His eyes, once sharp and full of mischief, were now hollow and bloodshot, reflecting the sleepless nights and relentless guilt that hunted him.

The daily routine was monotonous and the same.

Wade would spend hours looking over the maps and documents, his fingers stained with ink and coffee. He would pace the warehouse, muttering to himself as he memorised every detail of his search. The endless cycle of hope and disappointment had messed up his sanity. Every time a lead turned out to be a dead end, it felt like another nail in his coffin.

Weasel had tried everything to break through to him. He had been by Wade's side through every failed attempt, every new lead that went nowhere. But as the years wore on, his patience began to wear thin.

Dopinder, too, had grown weary. He had watched Wade's descent into obsession with a heavy heart, and the silence in Altheas apartment was often emphasised by the sound of Weasel's frustrated sighs.

One evening, after yet another dead-end search, Weasel finally exploded. His face was flushed with anger and exhaustion as he stormed into the room. The narrow space, filled with the waste of Wade's obsessive quest, seemed to close in around him.

He slammed a stack of papers onto the table, the documents scattering and fluttering across the floor. "Wade, this is fucking insane!" he yelled, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. "We've been at this for years! We've gone through every fucking corner of this city and beyond, and there's nothing. She's gone. You need to accept that!"

Wade, hunched over the table, looked up with hollow eyes. His face was pale, his expression a mix of desperation and confrontation. "Don't you fucking tell me that! She's out there. I know it. I can feel it. I promised I'd protect her. I can't just fucking let go."

Dopinder, who had been standing quietly, finally spoke. His voice was steady but laced with frustration. "Sir, he's right. This obsession is making you lose your mind. As you know, I once felt similar to Gita because of my cousin. It's time to face reality. Kidnapping Bandhu and going after her as you told me was not the move. She's not coming back."

Wade's face twisted in torment. "I can't stop. I made a promise to her. I have to keep looking. If I stop, it means I failed her."

Weasel's anger softened into a weary sadness.

"Wade, look at yourself. You're barely holding it together. This obsession is destroying you. It's okay to accept that she's gone. You can't keep going like this."

The argument had reached a fever pitch when Althea, arrived unannounced. She entered the room with a smirk sensing a suffocating atmosphere.

"Well, well, well," Althea drawled, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Look at you, Wade. You're like a fucking stray dog, clawing at every lead and getting nowhere. Pathetic, really. You've been digging through garbage for years, and what do you have to show for it? Nothing but a dirty room and a broken spirit."

Wade's eyes flared with anger and pain. "Shut up, Althea. You have no idea what this is like."

"Oh, I have an idea. You're just like a cockroach, scuttling around in the dark, hoping for a crumb. And look at you now- your obsession has turned you into a fucking joke. A pitiful, little joke."

The cruel words cut deep. Wade's resolve finally began to crumble under the weight of his guilt and the relentless pressure from his friends. He slumped into a chair, his body shaking with the intensity of his emotions. Tears streamed down his face as he realized the immensity of his failure.

Weasel placed a hand on Wade's shoulder, his voice soft but firm. "You did everything you could. It's time to take care of yourself. You've been searching for years. It's okay to let go."

Wade's voice was a broken whisper. "Fine. Fine. She's dead. I get it. She's gone." The admission felt like a knife twisting in his gut. "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

The room fell into a heavy silence. He sat alone in the dim light of the warehouse, feeling a hollow emptiness that no amount of searching could fill. The dream of finding Y/n and making things right had ended in crushing defeat.

Guilt catching up on him, eating away at whatever was left of his sanity. He should have been there for her, should have protected her. He would failed her, just like he had failed Vanessa.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

As Wade's search faded into a resigned acceptance of her death, Y/N's reality became one of unending horror.

Francis, the man responsible for her capture, took pleasure in her suffering, using her as a pawn in his twisted game of revenge against Wade.

The sterile, metallic walls of her prison reflected her pain back at her, a constant reminder of the nightmare she could not escape. And as the torture escalated, so too did her resolve- she would survive this, if only to make sure Francis paid for what he had done.

Each day, Francis would enter, his footsteps echoing down the corridor before the door creaked open. He was always methodical, almost clinical in his approach, but his eyes betrayed a sadistic pleasure in what he was about to do.

He would start with the physical pain.

The tools varied- sometimes it was the sharp blade of a scalpel, cutting into her flesh; other times, it was the searing burn of heated metal pressed against her skin, leaving behind the burned smell of charred flesh.

But no matter how much she bled or how deeply the burns seared, Francis always had more in store for her, never satisfied with just one form of torture.

As Francis stood over her, his expression cold and unfeeling, a stark contrast to the cruel image that flickered in his eyes. His hands moved quickly as he secured the straps around her wrists and ankles, ensuring she could not move even an inch. Y/n's breaths were shallow and weak, each one a reminder of the agony her body had endured.

"Comfortable?" Francis asked, his voice dripping with mockery. He leaned over her, his face close enough that she could see the sick pleasure in his eyes.

Y/n managed to muster a weak glare, her voice a raspy whisper, "Go to hell."

He smiled, a cold, predatory grin that made her stomach turn. "Oh, we're already there, sweetheart." He nodded to one of his servants, who stepped forward with a large, filthy rag and a bucket of water. The sight of the bucket made Y/n's heart race, a surge of primal fear washing over her.

"Let's see how long you can hold your breath," Francis said, his tone almost casual, like they were discussing the weather.

The servant threw the rag over Y/n's face, the old fabric scraping against her raw skin. Her world became dark, the air around her thick and suffocating. Panic set in immediately, her body instinctively struggling against the restraints, but it was useless. She was trapped, helpless beneath the weight of the rag and the knowledge of what was coming next.

Francis stepped back, savoring the moment before giving a slight nod. The servant tilted the bucket, and the water poured out in a steady stream, soaking the rag and filling her mouth and nose. It was cold, a shock to her already trembling body, but that was quickly replaced by a more immediate terror.

Y/n exhausted, her body screaming for air, but all she could do was choke on the water. It felt like she was drowning, like her lungs were filling with liquid fire. Her mind screamed at her to breathe, to cough, to do anything to expel the water, but it was impossible. The rag was an unforgiving barrier, the water relentless as it flooded her senses.

"Do you know what the worst part is, Y/n?" Francis's voice cut through the roaring in her ears, his tone conversational as if they were chatting over tea.

"Wade's not coming for you. He's probably already forgotten you, moved on to the next whore who'll get caught up in his mess. You're nothing to him now. Just another casualty of his fucked-up life."

His words were a blade, slicing through the last threads of her resolve. Y/n wanted to scream, to tell him he was wrong, but all she could do was gag on the water that filled her throat, her body arching off the table in a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating torture.

Francis watched her struggle with cold detachment, his hands clasped behind his back. "He's not worth this, you know," he continued, his voice low and insidious. "You're suffering for nothing. For a man who doesn't even have the decency to keep searching for you. How long do you think you've been here, Y/n? Days? Months? Years?"

Her mind spun, disoriented by the lack of oxygen and the overwhelming need to breathe. Time had lost all meaning in this place, each moment stretching into an eternity of pain and fear. She did not know how long she had been here, but it felt like forever. And the thought that Wade had given up on her, that he had moved on... it was a torture all its own.

Francis nodded again, and the water stopped. The rag was ripped away, and Y/n gasped, coughing violently as her lungs finally found air. Her body shaken violently, trying to dodge the water that had nearly drowned her, each breath a ragged, painful gasp.

But Francis was not done. He leaned down, his face close to hers, his voice a poisonous whisper. "He's not coming for you. No one is. You're all alone, Y/n. And this... this is your life now."

Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe, her body trembling with exhaustion and fear. But somewhere deep inside, buried beneath the pain and terror, a spark of defiance still flickered. She would not let him break her. Not like this.

Y/n turned her head, her eyes meeting his with a fierce determination. "Fuck... you," she spat, her voice hoarse but filled with venom.

Francis straightened, a cold smile tugging at his lips. "We'll see how long that fire lasts," he said, stepping back as the servant prepared for the next round of water.

And as the rag was placed over her face once more, Y/n braced herself for the flood, for the darkness that threatened to consume her. But she would hold on to that little hope, no matter how small it was. Because it was all she had left.

Days turned into a blur of pain and despair. The cycle of waterboarding became just one of many methods Francis employed to break her spirit. The physical torment was relentless, but it was the psychological warfare that truly triggered her. He seemed to take a perverse pleasure in ensuring that she remained as mentally shattered as she was physically.

Francis knew how to break a person from the inside out. He was a master of manipulation, weaving a web of lies and half truths designed to trigger her spirit.

He would lean in close, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered cruel taunts. "You really thought Wade would come for you?". He would say, his voice dripping with malice.

His words were like poison, getting into her mind, making her question everything she had believed. She tried to resist, to cling to the hope that Wade was still out there, searching for her, but with each passing day, that hope vanished.

The isolation, the constant pain, and the relentless psychological assault began to wear her down. Francis took every opportunity to remind her of how alone she was, how forgotten she had become.

He had a way of getting inside her head, twisting her thoughts until she did not know what was real anymore. He played mind games with her, altering the timing of her torture sessions so she could never expect when the next wave of pain would come. Sometimes he would leave her in darkness for days, the silence broken only by the distant echoes of other prisoners' screams, a constant reminder of her own doom.

As the years dragged on, Y/n changed. She had lost track of how long she had been trapped in that hellhole. The days had bled together in a blur of agony and despair. The torture had done more than scar her body- it had twisted her mind, turning her into something she barely recognized.

The physical pain was constant, but it was the psychological torment that truly broke her. The things Francis had done to her, the things he had made her believe about Wade, had planted a seed of hatred in her heart, one that grew with every day of her captivity.

The isolation was suffocating. Y/n found herself questioning her own memories, her own worth. The lines between reality and the lies Francis fed her began to blur. She started to believe that Wade had forgotten her, that she was not worth saving. The thought of him moving on, living a life without her, filled her with a rage she had never known before- a rage that Francis eagerly thrilled.

Six years had passed in a relentless blur of pain and suffering since the accident, leaving Y/n in the dark, cramped cell. Her bruised body and broken spirit showed the unending cruelty she had endured.

The cell was a dark, oppressive space, highlighted only by a sliver of moonlight that struggled through a foggy window. Y/n laid crumpled on the cold concrete floor, her body twisted in exhaustion.

The air was heavy, the stench of old blood and sweat mingling with the scent of despair. Her clothes, once white, were now an old and torn mess, barely clinging to her damaged frame. Her skin was marked with bruises and burns, each one a testament to the relentless cruelty she had faced.

Breathing was a struggle, each inhale short and shallow, as if her lungs were weighed down by the enormity of her torture. Her eyes, hollow and unfocused, drifted across the cracked walls. She mumbled to herself, her voice barely more than a whisper, choked by the weight of her guilt and despair.

"They're... they're suffering because of me," she murmured, her voice breaking with the weight of her own realization. "They're dying... and I'm... I'm still here..."

Her thoughts were a mess, separated by the horror she had endured and witnessed. The echoes of distant screams and cries seemed to mess with her mind, though she knew they were not her own. Each cry, each plea for help, was a stark reminder of the suffering she had become intertwined in.

She tried to push away the images and sounds of others' suffering, but they seemed to get into her consciousness, an unending reminder of the pain she had without intention caused.

"Why... why can't I stop this?" she mumbled, her voice stammering. "Why am I the one who's still alive, when they... they're not?"

She felt a intense sense of disconnection from reality, as if the walls of her cell were closing in on her, pressing her down with the weight of her guilt. The thought that her continued survival meant the maintenance of others' suffering was unbearable. She was a vessel of pain, a curse that dragged others into hell with her.

In the silence of her cell, the only sound was her quiet mumbling and the occasional shudder of her body. Her thoughts swirled in a chaotic blur, a never- ending loop of self-blame and guilt. Despite the crushing weight of her situation, a small, flickering hope remained. It was this tiny spark, barely noticeable that drove her to plan her escape.

The day of Y/n's escape had finally arrived, though its outcome remained uncertain. Her heart pounded in her chest as the guards dragged her into a dark metal room, the weight of her chains clinking with every step.

As she was forced to lay on the cold metal table, her body trembling from the effects of the latest torture, a spark of resistance still burned within her.

They had locked her in a small, dark box this time, the temperature slowly dropping until she could see her breath in the air, until her fingers went numb and her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

The cold seeped into her bones, turning her blood to ice. She could feel the frost forming on her skin, tiny crystals of ice biting into her flesh. It hurt- God, it hurt- but she refused to scream. Screaming would only give them the satisfaction of knowing they had won.

The box was so small that she could not move, could not even shift her position to relieve the pressure on her aching joints. The darkness was suffocating, pressing in on her from all sides. She could not see anything, could not hear anything but the faint sound of her own breathing, growing shallower as the cold tightened its grip on her lungs. She focused on that sound, using it to ground herself, to keep from slipping into the abyss of madness that threatened to consume her.

When they finally pulled her out, her body was shaking so badly that she could barely stand. They threw her back onto the table, chaining her wrists and ankles so tightly that the metal bit into her skin. She could feel the blood trickling down her arms, warm against the chill that still clung to her. Francis stood over her, a smug smile on his face as he looked down at her shivering form.

"You're stronger than I expected," he said, his voice cold and clinical. "But everyone breaks eventually. It's just a matter of time."

Y/n did not respond. She did not have the strength to. She lay there, her chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths, her eyes half-closed. To Francis, she looked like she was on the brink of passing out, just another victim of his sadistic games. But Y/n was far from unconscious. She was waiting.

Francis turned away, motioning for the guards to prepare her for the next round of torture. They moved around her, their footsteps heavy on the concrete floor. Y/n waited until one of them leaned in close, unlocking the chain around her wrist. In that split second, she struck.

With a surge of adrenaline-fueled strength, she grabbed the guard's arm and yanked it toward her, using his own momentum to pull him off balance. Her hand found the sharp shard of ice she had hidden, formed from the frost that had coated her body during the freezing torture.

She drove it into his throat with all the force she could muster. The man gurgled, blood spurting from the wound as he collapsed to the ground, the life draining from his eyes.

"Fuck, she broke ou-"

The second guard barely had time to react before she was on him, the makeshift weapon flashing in the dim light as she drove it into his chest. He staggered back, clutching at the wound as blood poured from between his fingers. Y/n did not stop to watch him fall. She was already moving, her body fueled by a desperate, animalistic need to survive.

Francis turned, his eyes widening in shock as he saw her standing over the bodies of his guards, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "You-" he started, but she did not give him a chance to finish. She lunged at him, the ice shard slicing through the air, aiming for his throat. But Francis was quicker than she had anticipated. He dodged to the side, catching her wrist in a vice-like grip.

She struggled, but he was stronger, his hand tightening around her wrist until she could feel the bones grinding together. Pain shot up her arm, but she refused to let go of the shard. She twisted, bringing her knee up into his gut. He grunted, loosening his grip just enough for her to pull free.

Y/n did not waste any time. She turned and ran, her bare feet slapping against the cold floor as she sprinted down the hallway. She could hear Francis shouting behind her, calling for more guards, but she did not stop. She did not look back. All she could think about was getting out, getting away from this place and the horrors it held.

The facility was a labyrinth of sterile hallways and locked doors, but she knew it well. She had been dragged through these corridors enough times to memorize every turn, every exit. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, her lungs burning with the effort, but she pushed herself harder, refusing to let the exhaustion slow her down.

Finally, she burst through a door and into the open air. The night was cold, the sky a dark, starless void above her. But the chill was a welcome relief after the suffocating confines of the facility. She did not stop running, her feet pounding against the ground as she made her way toward the fence that surrounded the compound.

She could hear the guards behind her, their shouts growing louder as they closed in. But she did not care. She was almost there, almost free. With a final burst of strength, she launched herself at the fence, scrambling up the chain-link like a wild animal. Her hands were slick with blood and sweat, making it hard to keep her grip, but she refused to let go. She hauled herself over the top, her body crashing to the ground on the other side with a painful thud.

She did not stop. She could not. Ignoring the pain that shot through her limbs, she pushed herself to her feet and started running again, disappearing into the night, leaving the facility and Francis behind.

But the damage had been done.

As she ran through the darkened forest, the memories of the past years haunted her, flashing before her eyes like a twisted film reel. The torture, the pain, the manipulation- they had all left their mark on her. She was no longer the woman she had been when she first entered that facility. That woman was dead, buried beneath the layers of trauma and hatred that now consumed her.

And as she ran, one thought burned brighter than all the others: Wade Wilson had abandoned her. He had left her to suffer, to be broken by Francis and him.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Movie Night

Bucky x Y/N

Movie night can sometimes require a bit too much concentration for Bucky..

Requests Open!

Warnings: Some kissing - nothing crazy

Bucky had always been a man of few words, but when it came to Y/N, his affection was loud and clear in every soft look, gentle touch, and, of course, his pet names. Tonight was no different. He watched her from the kitchen, his eyes full of warmth as she settled herself on the couch, tucking a blanket around her legs with a small yawn.

“Movie time, huh, kitten?” he called out, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at him, an amused grin spreading across her face as she raised the popcorn bowl in her hands like a trophy. “Can’t have a movie night without popcorn, can we?”

Bucky chuckled softly, drying his hands on a dishtowel before walking over to her, his heavy boots thudding softly on the wooden floor. “You sure you want a movie, doll? Thought you wanted me all to yourself tonight.”

There it was—the first flicker of mischief in his tone. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, but her heart did a little flip at the way his voice dropped when he called her “doll.” It always did.

“Maybe I do,” she teased back, patting the spot next to her on the couch. “But I can multitask.”

“Yeah?” Bucky’s eyebrow quirked as he plopped down beside her, the couch dipping under his weight. He stretched his arm along the back of the couch, draping it lazily across Y/N’s shoulders. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”

Y/N leaned forward, picking up the remote from the coffee table and scrolling through the endless list of options. Bucky leaned in closer, his breath tickling the back of her neck. He wasn’t being subtle, not one bit, and that was exactly how she liked it.

“You’re not even looking at the screen, Bucky,” she pointed out, pretending to be unimpressed, though the little flutter in her chest betrayed her.

“Oh, I’m looking at something much better,” he murmured into her ear, his lips brushing the shell of it. A shiver ran down her spine, and Y/N bit her lip to keep from grinning like a fool.

“Focus,” she warned, clicking on an action movie that was way more his style than hers. But Bucky was barely paying attention to the screen; his hand had started to trace lazy circles on her shoulder, and Y/N could feel the weight of his gaze on her.

“I am focused,” Bucky countered, leaning in even closer, his metal arm glinting in the dim light of the living room as it settled on her thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “Just… not on the movie.”

Y/N swatted at his hand playfully, shaking her head.

As the movie started, Y/N tried—really tried—to focus on the fast-paced action playing out on the screen, but Bucky had other ideas. His fingers continued their featherlight journey across her skin, brushing along her collarbone before traveling lower, down her arm. Every touch was slow, deliberate, sending tiny sparks through her body.

“Bucky…” Y/N half-groaned, half-laughed, her voice a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “We’re supposed to be watching the movie.”

“I am watching,” he defended, though the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away. “Just watching something way more interesting than some car chase.”

Y/N bit back another smile, leaning her head back to look up at him. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Bucky’s grin widened, and in one smooth movement, he tugged her closer, pulling her so her back was against his chest. “Maybe, but you love me anyway, darlin’.”

She could hear the affection in his voice, soft and sincere, even under the teasing. Y/N settled into the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against her back comforting as she pretended to be annoyed.

“I was looking forward to this movie,” she mumbled, though the way her body melted into his was proof enough that she wasn’t too upset about the change in plans.

Bucky chuckled, his chest rumbling against her. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” she asked, unable to stop herself from smiling as she turned her head slightly to look at him.

“Oh, I’ve got a few ideas,” he said, his voice low, with that unmistakable suggestiveness. “But I can show you better than I can tell you, kitten.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened at the look in his eyes, but before she could reply, his lips were on hers, soft and slow, taking his time as if savoring every second. Her fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer as the kiss deepened, all thoughts of the movie forgotten.

When they finally broke apart, both a little breathless, Bucky gave her that crooked smile she loved so much. “You’re way more fun than any movie, doll.”

She giggled softly, shaking her head. “Flatterer.”

“Just speaking the truth,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to her forehead before shifting them both so they were lying back on the couch. Y/N ended up half on top of him, her head resting on his chest as his metal arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close.

For a while, they just stayed like that, the quiet hum of the movie in the background barely registering as Bucky’s fingers traced absentminded patterns on her lower back. Y/N closed her eyes, content and cozy, soaking in the warmth and safety of being in his arms.

It wasn’t until Bucky shifted slightly beneath her that Y/N remembered something. She raised her head, meeting his curious gaze with a small smirk.

“Weren’t you supposed to make it up to me?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

Bucky’s brows lifted, an amused chuckle escaping him. “What? That kiss wasn’t enough for you, darlin’?”

She grinned, propping herself up on her elbows so she could look down at him properly. “I’m greedy.”

“Oh, I know,” he teased, his metal hand sliding up her back in a way that made her shiver. “But I kinda like that about you.”

Before she could respond, Bucky flipped them over in one swift motion, pinning her beneath him with a grin that could only be described as devilish. Y/N’s heart raced, but it wasn’t from fear—she trusted him completely.

“You know what your problem is, kitten?” he asked, his lips hovering just above hers as he spoke.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her breath hitching. “What’s that?”

“You think you’re in control here,” Bucky murmured, his lips ghosting over hers, barely touching.

She huffed a soft laugh, her hands sliding up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath her palms. “And you think you are?”

Bucky’s smile widened, and with a sudden surge of energy, he kissed her again, this time with more intensity, more purpose. Y/N melted into it, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss until they were both breathing hard, their bodies pressed together in a way that left no space between them.

When they finally parted, Bucky leaned his forehead against hers, his voice rough with affection. “You’re my best girl, you know that?”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words, and she nodded, her fingers gently brushing through his hair. “I know.”

He kissed her again, slower this time, as if they had all the time in the world—and for the two of them, maybe they did. Every moment with Bucky felt like its own little eternity, wrapped in warmth and affection.

Eventually, the teasing and playful energy softened into something more tender as they settled back down into the couch, Bucky pulling the blanket over them both as they snuggled close.

The movie still played in the background, though neither of them paid much attention to it. Instead, they found comfort in each other, Bucky’s arm wrapped around Y/N protectively as she rested her head on his chest, their breathing slowing in sync.

And as the night wore on, full of stolen kisses and whispered endearments, Bucky couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter what chaos the world threw their way, moments like these were what made everything worth it.

After all, he had his best girl right beside him—and that was all he needed.

[cool-fancier]

Whispers in the Night

Synopsis: In a cozy apartment, two lovers' quiet movie night turns into an unexpected, tantalizing game of desire, testing their willpower and deepening their connection.

Word count: 2.1K

You met Rosé during your sophomore year of college. Both of you were attending a late-night study session in the campus library. The room was filled with students hunched over their laptops and textbooks, but amidst the sea of stressed faces, Rosé’s calm demeanor caught your eye. She was sitting across the room, casually flipping through a novel that seemed far too interesting to be anything related to your shared physics class.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself walking over to her table. “What’s so interesting?” you asked, pointing at the book. Rosé looked up, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Just a little escape from reality,” she replied, showing you the cover of a fantasy novel.

Her voice was soft, melodic, instantly drawing you in. You smiled, feeling a strange sense of comfort in her presence. “Mind if I join you? I could use an escape too.”

“Not at all,” she said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her. “I’m Rosé, by the way.”

“I’m Y/n” you replied, taking the seat. “Nice to meet you.”

That night, you ended up talking more than studying, sharing your interests and dreams. You learned that Rosé was a literature major, passionate about storytelling and poetry. She loved the way words could paint pictures and evoke emotions. You shared your fascination with science, explaining how the universe's mysteries captivated you.

Over time, study sessions turned into coffee dates. One rainy afternoon, while you were both huddled under a shared umbrella, Rosé looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of uncertainty and hope.

“I think I’m falling for you,” she admitted, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

Your heart swelled with emotion, and without thinking, you leaned down and kissed her. The rain poured around you, but in that moment, you felt warm and safe, as if nothing else mattered.

Now, a year into your relationship, you had moved in together into a cozy apartment near campus. Life was good, filled with mutual support and endless affection. Tonight, you planned to have a quiet evening together, watching TV and enjoying each other’s company.

— — — — —

The soft glow of the television cast a warm light across the living room as you and Rosé cuddled on the couch. Her head rested on your shoulder, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing. The movie playing on the screen was a romantic comedy, the kind you both loved to mock but secretly enjoyed.

You traced your fingers lightly over Rosé’s arm, feeling the softness of her skin. She shivered slightly, snuggling closer to you. Her scent, a mix of vanilla and lavender, filled your senses, making you feel more connected to her than ever.

“Hey,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear. “I have an idea.”

Rosé turned her head to look at you, curiosity and a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Oh? What kind of idea?”

Instead of answering, you let your hand drift lower, slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was warm, and you could feel her muscles tense slightly at your touch. You leaned in, kissing her neck softly, your breath hot against her skin.

“Mmm,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

Your fingers danced across her stomach, moving slowly upwards. Rosé’s breathing grew heavier, her chest rising and falling with each breath. You could feel the anticipation building between you, a palpable tension that made your heart race.

As your hand moved higher, you grazed the underside of her breast, eliciting a soft gasp from Rosé. You paused, waiting for her reaction. She opened her eyes, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and desire.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice breathy.

“Just trying to make the movie more interesting,” you replied with a grin.

Rosé giggled, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. “I think you’re succeeding.”

Emboldened by her response, you let your hand slide further up, cupping her breast gently. Rosé moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed again. You could feel her nipple harden under your palm, and you rubbed it lightly with your thumb, drawing another moan from her lips.

You kissed her neck again, trailing kisses down to her collarbone. Rosé arched her back slightly, pressing herself into your hand. You loved seeing her like this, so responsive to your touch.

“Shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear. “We don’t want the neighbors to hear.”

Rosé bit her lip, nodding. You could see the effort it took for her to stay quiet, and it only made you want to push her limits further. You slid your hand down her body, slipping it under the waistband of her pajama pants. Her breath hitched as your fingers found their way to her most sensitive spot.

You moved slowly, teasing her with light touches. Rosé’s hips bucked slightly, and she grabbed onto your arm, her nails digging into your skin. You watched her face, captivated by the expressions of pleasure that crossed it.

Every time Rosé’s moans grew too loud, you paused, waiting for her to regain control. It was a delicious game, one that left both of you breathless and wanting more. You loved the power you had over her, the way you could bring her to the brink of ecstasy and then pull back, leaving her desperate for release.

Rosé’s eyes opened, and she looked at you with a mixture of frustration and desire. “Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Don’t stop.”

You smiled, kissing her deeply. “Only if you can stay quiet,” you murmured against her lips.

Rosé nodded, her eyes filled with determination. You resumed your movements, your fingers working her expertly. You could feel her getting closer, her body trembling with anticipation. You wanted to push her over the edge, to see her come undone in your arms.

As you continued, Rosé’s breathing grew ragged, her moans turning into soft whimpers. You could tell she was struggling to stay quiet, and it only fueled your desire to make her lose control. You increased your pace, your fingers moving faster, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

Rosé’s grip on your arm tightened, and you could feel her body tensing. She was right there, on the brink of release. You leaned in, kissing her neck, your breath hot against her skin.

“Come for me,” you whispered, your voice low and commanding.

That was all it took. Rosé’s body convulsed, her eyes squeezing shut as she reached her climax. She bit her lip to stifle her moan, her whole body trembling with the intensity of her orgasm. You held her close, your fingers still moving gently, drawing out her pleasure.

When she finally came down from her high, Rosé looked at you, her eyes filled with love and gratitude. You kissed her softly, savoring the taste of her lips.

“Wow,” she whispered, a smile playing on her lips. “That was… amazing.”

You grinned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You were amazing.”

Rosé snuggled closer to you, resting her head on your chest. The movie played on in the background, but neither of you paid it any attention. You were lost in each other, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

— — — — —

As you held her close, Rosé shifted slightly, her hand trailing down your chest. You could see the lingering desire in her eyes, a silent plea for more. Without breaking eye contact, you slid your hand back down her body, slipping it under her pajama pants once again.

This time, you moved with purpose, your fingers delving deeper, parting her folds and finding her clit. Rosé gasped, her body arching towards you. You began to circle her clit slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure. Rosé’s breathing quickened, and she clutched at your arm, her nails digging into your skin.

You watched her face, captivated by the expressions of pleasure that crossed it. Her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth slightly open as soft moans escaped her lips. You could feel her getting wetter, her arousal coating your fingers.

“Do you like that?” you whispered, your voice husky with desire.

“Yes,” Rosé breathed, her voice trembling. “Don’t stop.”

You increased the pressure, your fingers moving faster, drawing circles around her clit. Rosé’s hips bucked against your hand, her body responding eagerly to your touch. You loved the way she moved, so in tune with your rhythm.

You leaned in, kissing her deeply, your tongue exploring her mouth as your fingers continued their relentless assault. Rosé moaned into your mouth, her body trembling with anticipation. You could feel her getting closer, her muscles tensing as she approached the edge.

Suddenly, you pulled your hand away, causing Rosé to whimper in frustration. “Why did you stop?” she asked, her voice laced with desperation.

“Because I want to taste you,” you replied, your eyes dark with desire.

Rosé’s eyes widened, and she nodded eagerly. You helped her out of her pajama pants, tossing them aside. She lay back on the couch, spreading her legs for you, her eyes filled with anticipation.

You moved between her thighs, your breath hot against her skin. You could see her glistening with arousal, the sight making your mouth water.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her inner thigh, savoring the taste of her skin. Rosé shivered, her legs spreading wider in invitation.

Slowly, you trailed kisses up her thigh, your lips brushing over her sensitive skin. Rosé's breathing grew heavier, her body trembling with anticipation. When you finally reached her center, you paused, looking up at her. Her eyes were half-closed, her lips parted in a soft moan.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I need you.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her clit. Rosé gasped, her hips bucking towards you. You licked a slow, teasing line from her entrance to her clit, savoring her taste. She was sweet and intoxicating, and you couldn't get enough.

You circled her clit with your tongue, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm. Rosé's hands found their way to your hair, her fingers tangling in your locks as she tried to pull you closer. You obliged, sucking gently on her clit, your tongue flicking over the sensitive nub.

Rosé's moans grew louder, her hips rocking against your mouth. You could feel her getting closer, her body tensing with each stroke of your tongue. You slid two fingers into her, curling them upwards to find that special spot inside her. Rosé cried out, her body arching off the couch as pleasure overwhelmed her.

You pumped your fingers in and out of her, matching the rhythm of your tongue on her clit. Rosé was a writhing mess beneath you, her moans turning into desperate cries for release. You could feel her walls clenching around your fingers, her body trembling with the intensity of her impending orgasm.

“Don't stop,” she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. “Please, don't stop.”

You had no intention of stopping. You wanted to see her fall apart, to watch her come undone under your touch. You increased the pace, your fingers moving faster, your tongue flicking over her clit with relentless precision.

Rosé's body tensed, her back arching off the couch as she reached her climax. She cried out your name, her walls clamping down around your fingers as waves of pleasure crashed over her. You didn't stop, continuing to pump your fingers and lick her clit, drawing out her orgasm until she was a quivering mess.

When she finally came down from her high, Rosé looked at you with a mixture of awe and adoration. You withdrew your fingers, licking them clean as you moved up to kiss her. She tasted herself on your lips, moaning softly as she kissed you back.

“You're incredible,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

“You're the incredible one,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I love you, Rosé.”

“I love you too,” she said, her eyes shining with tears. “More than anything.”

You held her close, your bodies tangled together on the couch. The movie played on in the background, but neither of you paid it any attention. You were lost in each other, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

As you lay there, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. You loved Rosé more than anything, and moments like this reminded you of just how special your connection was. You knew that no matter what challenges life threw your way, you would always have each other.

And that was all that mattered.

[caitified]

experience

paige bueckers x reader

warnings: slow burn then smut. this is probably my most requested fic, period so i hope this is ok. still not the best smut writer.

"hey, rookie," the voice called out from across the crowded locker room. paige leaned against the metal frame, a smirk playing on her lips as she assessed the newest addition to uconn's women's basketball team. you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves at the sight of the star player. her reputation preceded her - a force on the court, and even more so off of it.

you, the rookie, blushed under the scrutiny, fumbling with your gear trying to vacate the scene as fast as possible post practice. "hi," you murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. your heart raced as the whispers grew louder around you. you knew the stories about paige, the rumors of her endless conquests and fearless charm.

paige pushed off the lockers and strolled over, her confidence radiating with every step. "why so nervous rookie? you did good" she said, grabbing your hand. "everyone’s saying good things." her grip was firm, her eyes piercing, making you feel both seen and insignificant at the same time.

you took a deep breath, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "y-yeah," you stuttered, shaking her hand. "i'm just trying to fit in."

a knowing smile curled her lips. "well, i can help you with that." her tone was playful, yet there was an underlying seriousness that sent a shiver down your spine. "i'll show you the ropes, take you under my wing."

the first weeks of training were intense. paige was a relentless coach, pushing you to your limits and beyond. her methods were unorthodox, often leaving the other players bewildered, but she had an uncanny ability to draw out potential that others didn't see. you found yourself improving at an unprecedented rate, your skills sharpening like a knife under her watchful eye.

but it wasn't just on the court where she had an effect on you. her charisma was magnetic, and you couldn't help but be drawn to her. her stories of late-night escapades and wild adventures made you feel like you were living in a shadow of her vibrant life. you'd listen intently, blushing at the more risqué details, while she'd throw her head back and laugh, the sound echoing in the quiet gym.

one evening, after a particularly grueling practice, paige suggested you grab dinner together. just the two of you. you agreed, eager for the chance to get to know her better, away from the prying eyes of the team. as you sat across from her at a dimly lit diner, the air grew thick with a tension you didn't quite understand.

her hand reached out, brushing against yours on the table. "you know, you're different from the others," she said, her gaze intense. "there's something about you that's... pure."

your cheeks grew hot as you avoided her eyes. "what do you mean?"

leaning in, she whispered, "you're a good girl, aren't you?" her voice was a soft caress that sent a thrill through you.

the question hung in the air like a challenge. you nodded, unable to find your voice.

her smile widened, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "i have a feeling this season is going to be more interesting than i thought."

the conversation shifted gears, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that something had changed between you. the way she looked at you now was different, a new kind of curiosity in her gaze. it was thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.

as the days went by, you found yourself spending more and more time with paige. she'd invite you to her off-campus apartment, where you'd watch movies and share stories late into the night. sometimes, her hand would rest on your thigh, sending waves of electricity through your body. each time, you'd tense up, unsure of what to do, but she'd just laugh and squeeze gently, as if reassuring you that you were safe.

the tension grew palpable, and you began to wonder if the rumors about her were true. if she had any intention of adding you to her list of conquests. yet, she never made a move, never pushed you further than you were comfortable with. instead, she'd pull away, leaving you feeling both disappointed and relieved.

then came the night of the first big home game. you'd been playing better than anyone could have predicted, and the crowd was electric. after the final buzzer, as you walked off the court drenched in sweat and adrenaline, paige was waiting for you. she pulled you into a hug, her strong arms lifting you off the ground.

"you're a natural," she murmured into your ear. "and i want to be the one to show you everything."

for a moment, you were suspended in time. her words resonated deep within you, igniting a fire you didn't know existed. and as she set you down, her hand lingering on your waist, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you wanted her to.

you tried to ignore the feeling, to focus on the season ahead, but it was like trying to ignore the sun in the middle of a bright summer day. it was there, burning and inescapable. you began to crave her touch, the way she'd look at you when she thought you weren't watching. her confidence was contagious, and you found yourself wanting to be more like her, to experience what she had, even if just a little.

one night, as you lay in bed, unable to sleep, you made a decision. you texted her, your heart racing with each tap of your thumbs. "do you... want to come over?" the message hovered, unsent, for what felt like an eternity before you hit send.

her response was almost immediate. "on my way."

your stomach flipped as you waited for her to arrive. you straightened your dorm room, trying to make it look more welcoming. when the door finally creaked open, she stepped in, casual in sweatpants and a hoodie, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"couldn't sleep?" she asked, shutting the door behind her.

you swallowed hard. "no, i... i had some things on my mind."

she sat down on the edge of your bed, her eyes searching yours. "what's up?"

you took a deep breath and leaned in. "i want you to be the one," you whispered. "i want you to show me everything."

the room seemed to still, the only sound the thundering of your heart in your ears. her gaze softened, and she leaned closer, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. "are you sure?"

you nodded, your eyes never leaving hers.

her smile grew gentle, and she leaned in, brushing her lips against yours in a kiss so soft, it was like a promise.

as her lips left yours, paige’s fingers find the waistband of your shorts pulling them down below your thighs.

your breath hitches with anticipation, your body aching for paige’s touch.

her face breaks into a smirk, teasing you further. “you sure you want this baby?” paige whispers, the nickname sending an immediate blush to your cheeks.

“yes i’m ready. i trust you”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤyou stared at paige with bright eyes and she nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. she maintained eye contact with you as she leaned down and flicked her tongue against your clit.

you let out a loud moan at the feeling of her warm tongue against you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

paige lifted her head to warn you, “tell me to stop if it hurts, yeah?”

before you could respond, paige thrust her finger into you relentlessly, beginning to pump her finger into you”

“fuck, paige.” you moaned out when her finger grazed your sweet spot.

she continued her pursuit as she began curling her fingers, testing out what got her the greatest reaction. she wanted to memorize every inch of you for future purposes.

when you had almost reached your climax, paige hastily removed her fingers from you.

your eyes flew open. “paige please, don’t tease.”

smiling, she went back to licking at your clit, and the combination of that and her fingers sent you off the edge and you struggled to catch your breath.

as you settled down, she removed her fingers from you, pulling you into a kiss.

both of you knew you had a lot to discuss, but that could wait until morning..

i didn’t proofread this as i thought it was terrible but i can continue it if people would like.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Movie Night

Word Count: 1775

Warnings: None

Terry Mcginnis x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The evening air felt fresh and inviting as you walked up to Terry’s house, a feeling of excitement bubbling in your chest. After a long week filled with chaotic school projects and endless responsibilities, spending a quiet night with him felt like the perfect antidote. His house was a small but cozy place, nestled in a quiet neighborhood that was a stark contrast to the bustling streets of Neo-Gotham. The porch was adorned with a couple of potted plants that Terry’s mother tended to meticulously. Their vibrant colors popped against the muted backdrop of the house, and as you stepped onto the porch, you noticed a few toys scattered about.

You knocked gently on the door, and within moments, it swung open to reveal Terry with his signature grin, his dark hair tousled, and a hint of mischief in his deep-set eyes. “Hey! You made it!” he exclaimed, stepping aside to let you in.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss a movie night with my favorite people,” you teased, nudging him playfully as you stepped inside. The familiar scent of popcorn filled the air, mingling with the faint notes of laundry detergent and Terry’s signature cologne. The living room was vibrant and cluttered, a mix of family life and boyhood chaos—colorful cushions were strewn across the oversized couch, and a few action figures littered the coffee table.

“Matt is just finishing up some cereal,” Terry said, motioning toward the kitchen. You could hear the faint sound of a cartoon playing in the background, the cheerful voices of animated characters providing a lively backdrop to the evening.

“Spaghetti Monsters!” came a cheerful shout from the kitchen. You chuckled, shaking your head at the title. “I can’t believe he’s still into that show.”

“Hey, it’s a classic,” Terry defended with a grin as he led you through the small hallway into the kitchen. Matt was perched at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him, his little hands clutching a spoon, and wearing a superhero cape that flapped as he bounced in his chair.

“Y/N! You came!” Matt exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy. You knelt beside him, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss hanging out with you guys. Did you save the world again today?” you asked, a smile spreading across your face as you took in his excitement.

Matt nodded vigorously, puffing out his chest proudly. “I fought off the Spaghetti Monster and saved the city!”

“Impressive!” you said, your eyes sparkling with laughter. “What’s the plan for tonight, then? More monster-fighting, or are we switching to movies?”

“Movies!” he declared, before shoving another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Terry crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with an amused expression. “And what makes you think you’re allowed to stay up for a scary movie, young man?”

“Because I’m brave!” Matt replied with all the conviction of a five-year-old superhero.

“You’re brave, huh? I don’t know about that,” Terry said, raising an eyebrow playfully. “What do you think, Y/N? Should we let this brave little guy watch a slasher film?”

You exchanged a mischievous glance with Terry. “Only if he promises to keep the lights on and sleep with his cape. We can’t have any nightmares ruining our movie night.”

Matt nodded eagerly, his mouth full of cereal again. “I promise!”

As you settled into the living room with Terry and Matt, the atmosphere felt warm and inviting. The walls were adorned with family photos, capturing moments of laughter and love. Matt's little drawings were pinned up next to a chalkboard covered in doodles, and there was a sense of joy that radiated from every corner of the room. Terry’s mom moved gracefully through the space, tidying up as she glanced over at you with a welcoming smile.

After a few minutes, Terry scooped Matt up effortlessly and carried him to his room as he began to yawn, clearly fighting against sleep. “Alright, buddy. Time for bed,” Terry said softly, tucking Matt in with a gentle hand.

“I don’t want to sleep!” Matt protested, his eyes still wide with energy, but it was clear that he was losing the battle.

“You don’t have to sleep. Just rest, and I’ll come back in a little while,” Terry reassured him, planting a kiss on his forehead. As Terry left the room, you felt a swell of warmth in your chest. Watching him with his brother was one of your favorite things about him; he was so patient and loving, and it was a side of him that revealed a depth you adored.

When he returned, the couch felt emptier without Matt's bubbly energy, but it also felt like a blanket of calm had settled over the room. “Now, where were we?” Terry asked, flopping down onto the couch beside you, the cushions sinking under his weight.

“We were about to watch a horror classic!” you replied, reaching for the remote and clicking on the movie. The screen flickered to life, and the opening credits rolled, casting an eerie glow across the room.

“Just so you know, I’m totally prepared for this,” Terry said, leaning back confidently. “I’ve watched like three of these this week. I’m practically a pro.”

You shot him a playful look. “Oh, really? Just remember, if you scream, I’m never going to let you live it down.”

“Please, as if I would scream,” he scoffed, though you could see the hint of challenge in his eyes.

As the movie unfolded, you both became engrossed in the plot, the tension building on screen. You could feel Terry's body tense beside you during particularly scary moments, and you found yourself leaning into him, seeking comfort. “Why do they always split up?” you exclaimed during a ridiculous scene where the characters made a dangerous decision. “That’s just asking for trouble!”

“Right?” Terry replied, laughing. “It’s like they want to get picked off one by one. I mean, who thought that was a good idea?”

The banter continued, punctuated by gasps and laughter as you both made fun of the characters’ choices. You leaned in closer as the movie reached a particularly tense moment, feeling a thrill run through you. Terry’s arm found its way around your shoulders, and you could sense the warmth radiating from him.

When the film hit a climactic moment, you gasped, instinctively clutching onto his arm. “Oh my gosh, did you see that?”

Terry laughed, his laughter warm and infectious. “You were right! That was definitely unexpected. I thought for surethat the killer was going to come from the left, not the right!” he finished, his voice filled with excitement.

You both laughed, and as the tension of the movie ebbed, you felt the comfort of the moment settle in. The glow of the screen flickered across Terry’s face, highlighting the playful spark in his eyes. He turned to you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “You know, I think you’re more invested in this than I am.”

“Can you blame me?” you replied, trying to sound indignant, though the grin on your face betrayed your amusement. “You might be the one who screams first.”

“Not a chance!” he declared confidently, but there was a flicker of mischief in his gaze.

As the film progressed, the mood shifted; the story grew darker and the stakes higher. You felt your heart race, and in a particularly suspenseful scene, you leaned a little closer to Terry, your shoulder brushing against his. He didn’t pull away; instead, his arm tightened around you, pulling you in just a fraction more. The warmth of his body felt like a shield against the chill creeping in through the night.

“Okay, I might scream if something jumps out right now,” he admitted, his voice low and conspiratorial. You could see the tension building in his shoulders as the suspense hung thick in the air.

“Let’s make a deal: if you scream, I’ll throw popcorn at you,” you offered, trying to lighten the mood.

“Deal!” he laughed, his eyes dancing with playful challenge.

The movie reached a climax, and as the action intensified, you both gasped together at a sudden scare, your fingers instinctively intertwining. You hadn’t meant to hold his hand, but the moment felt so right, as if it was the natural conclusion to the playful banter and the building tension.

Terry turned to look at you, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded away—the movie, the room, the world outside. Just you and him, caught in this shared moment. “I think we both just screamed,” he said, his voice a little breathless, a teasing smile spreading across his face.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe just a little.”

With a small shift, he faced you more fully, his expression softening. “Thanks for being here. I know it’s been a crazy week for both of us, but it feels nice to just… be.”

You nodded, your heart swelling. “Yeah, it really does. I’ve missed this.”

He took a moment, studying your face as if trying to read your thoughts. The warmth of his gaze made your cheeks flush, and you felt a mix of comfort and excitement course through you. “You know,” he began, his tone serious yet gentle, “you make everything feel a little less chaotic.”

“Is that so?” you teased, though his words hit home.

“Definitely. Just being around you makes me forget about the craziness, even if it’s just for a little while,” he confessed, a hint of vulnerability in his voice that made your heart race.

You squeezed his hand lightly, the touch electric yet soothing. “I feel the same way. You’ve got this way of making everything better, even when things are rough.”

As you both fell quiet, the movie played on in the background, the sounds of suspense intermingling with your shared silence. Terry’s thumb brushed against your hand, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, steady and reassuring.

“Can we do this more often?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence but keeping his gaze steady on yours.

“Absolutely,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face. “I’d love that.”

The film’s tension faded into a gentle rhythm as you both became lost in each other’s eyes, the world outside fading away once more. As the closing credits began to roll, you realized this night was about more than just a movie; it was a moment of connection, a night to remember.

And just like that, the screen faded to black, but the warmth of the evening lingered, wrapping around you like a cozy blanket, promising more nights like this to come.

[mvttsturn]

triplicity of hearts ── .✦

summary ; Where two secret lovers are abruptly exposed.

warnings ; smut ‼️ , nicknames

word count ; 1,705

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

You were currently in the kitchen with your brothers, the Sturniolos, filming a fun YouTube video for the upcoming Wednesday. You had been pestering them for weeks to feature in one of their videos, and today was the perfect opportunity for that to happen.

"Today's video is about uncovering juicy secrets and revealing them right here, right now," Matt initiates, stressing each word for emphasis. "And thus, we have invited our younger sister, Y/N, to embark on this adventure with us." Chris interjects with a sly remark and exclaims, "Yeah, she's definitely behaving suspiciously." To which Nick responds with a hint of disgust in his voice, "Ugh, dude please, don't say that. That’s disgusting." which immediately makes me chuckle slightly.

After finishing the intro of the video, I hear the door to the house open and a familiar head walk up the stairs. One that belongs to Nate, my brother’s best friend; and my secret lover. As Nate ascends the stairs towards the kitchen, his presence brings a hint of anticipation and excitement, reminding you of the secret connection you and he shared in Boston. The memories of that intimate encounter play out in your mind, adding a layer of forbidden thrill to the moment. Upon reaching the kitchen, Nate flashes a subtle smile as he locks eyes with you, a knowing look passing between you both.

Sitting in the warm cabin with Nate and your brothers, you wait until the clock ticks 9pm as you know they need to go out and film something for youtube. You, although, were excited to finally spend some time without constant blabbering in your ear. That is if Nate is willing to sit in silence for a few hours. However, that was not the case at all. You two were in the kitchen baking some cookies in preparation for the slight movie night you two had spontaneously planned, in hopes that Nate will finally see you for how you see him. Flour, eggs, and sugar was all over the kitchen counter and your faces. Giggles erupted around the room as you ran into the living room to get away from Nate.

 “Nate!” You squealed as you felt one of his arms wrap around your waist to hold you still as the other reaches your face and wipes the remains of flour onto your cheek. You spin around with your nose scrunched, imitating a look of anger as Nate laughs at your response to his flour in the face act. He chuckles at the sight and brings his hand up to wipe your cheek, “You look amazing, Y/N. With and without flour on your face.”  You smile as you look up at him, your cheeks growing a brighter hugh of pink through each running moment with him. 

Your mind was currently spiralling like an endless carousel, picturing many different ways that this could go. One could be that Nate just slaps you, in hopes that you’d just disappear into thin air with not even a strand of hair left. Or the other… could be that he swoops you up into his arms without any mishaps and he takes you into his room to give you the best night of his and your life. You secretly hoped it was the second option. “Yeah?” You reply, not taking your eyes off of him, a hint of mischief  and hopefulness planted into your eyes.

“Yeah.” He replies, mirroring the same look you hold. Using his hand on your cheek to cup your face, gently caressing the skin just below your lips. His eyes are constantly flickering down to your lips and back up into your eyes. This immediately makes you excited and you wrap your arms around your shoulders in hopes that you’re not reading this wrong. His hands make his way down to your hips, paying special notice to the shape of your body. In one quick motion, he decides to close the gap between you and pulls you in so that your lips are touching his. 

It was almost as if he had been craving for your touch for a very long while as his lips moved against yours hungrily. Almost as if you had both been picturing this moment ever since you had met, from the very moment your eyes had locked on the other. “I need you,” He whispers against your lips. “I’ve needed you for forever.” You bite his bottom lip, each word turning you on a little more. And from what you can feel pressed against your thigh, you could tell your actions were doing the same. Only affecting him more so when you decide to bring your hand down to feel exactly what it was that was poking you. 

Nate groaned at your touch as you felt his dick pulsating in your hand, wanting an immense amount of more freedom. Not being able to pull your lips off of eachother, you walk backwards until your back hits wall after wall until you finally make it into your room. He shuts the door behind you two and throws you onto your bed, pulling your ankles so that you’re on the edge of your bed so he can have more ease while he kneels down. Pushing your thighs apart, he slides his arms around the back of your hips so that they’re lifted up slightly, enough so that there is space to slide your joggers down along with your panties. 

“So wet already.” He groans which was almost enough to make you cum on the spot. He drags his middle finger along your heat making circular motions to arouse you even more. You moan at this slight of touch only making him a lot more worked up. You notice how experienced he seems which makes you question a few things. Still enjoying this moment, you breathe through long moans.

“How many times have you done this before?” You ask, sitting up onto your elbows to look down at him between your legs. He bites his lip before answering.

“Enough to know how to make you feel good, baby.” The pet name alone makes your walls clench around absolutely nothing due to the fact that nothing has really happened. Nate takes a notice to this and pumps a finger into you, allowing you to adjust to the new feeling. As his finger curls it hits the correct spot which sends you into a moaning spiral, sweat basically dripping down your forehead. Without warning, Nate adds another finger to the nonstop wave of pleasure he’s sending throughout your body. This only drives him to pump his fingers deeper and faster until you feel the knot in your stomach finally coming undone. “Fuck, Nate. I…” You whimper with your head thrown back. He groans at the use of his name, biting his bottom lip in the process. “Let go.” He says in an incredibly seductive tone which makes you cum all over his fingers. Nate brings them to your mouth and watches as you suck on his fingers that had your taste all over them.

He chuckles and licks your sensitive clit, sending shivers down your legs. Squeezing your thighs, he makes patterns with his thumb as his tongue slides up and down your pussy, his tongue dipping into your hole occasionally. 

Being incredibly impatient, Nate pulls down his trousers along with his boxers revealing his already hard dick which springs up immediately, almost hitting his stomach. Lining himself against you, he rubs his tip along your folds, making a groan escape his plump lips. “Are you ready Y/N?” He asks you, making sure to get your complete consent. You nod your head, biting your lip but this was not good enough for him. “I need words sweetheart.”

“Please Nate… please fill me up.” You moan, feeling his tip slip into your pussy with ease. He gives it a few seconds before fully fucking into you, grasping at your hips to steady himself. “Fuck, Y/N. Doing so good my love.” He groans, only bringing you both closer to the edge. 

Nate was a whimpering mess at the edge of the bed, pushing his hand on your stomach to feel how deep he was going. You moan his name at the feeling, your walls clenching around his dick making Nate throw his head back in an overwhelming pleasure. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you which pulls the strands of the knot in your stomach that was dying to come undone. With a couple more thrusts, Nate pulls out painting your stomach white and you almost immediately cum after him.

“You alright there, Y/N?” Matt asks with a chuckle, noticing your quietness. You nod in response not being able to get a word out as Nate sits next to you, legs basically touching. You wondered if you would ever be able to tell your brothers about this somewhat relationship.

After filming the video, you lay in your bed due to your tiredness and weird range of emotions throughout the filming process. Matt, Nick and Chris were about to go out to get some food to bring back for the 5 of us which Nate declines and makes an excuse that he needs to do something. 

He comes to your room and lays beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and laying his head in the crook of your neck. “Hey pretty girl.” He says, kissing your shoulder. You smile at his actions, really pleased of what you both have going on. “Hey you.” Nate smiles back at you and turns you around so that you’re facing eachother. He brings your face closer to his, about to place a kiss on your lips until your bedroom door opens and in walks a Chris.

“Hey Y/N, what do you want from McDon… What the fuck?” Chris says finally looking at the two of you cuddled up in bed. You knew this was bad but you couldn’t think of anything worse that could happen right now. That was until your other two brothers walked in, eyes immediately going wide. 

“Well I guess you guys now know why I was acting so ‘suspicious’!”

100% was not rushed at the end! 😆

tysm for reading ❤️

idea by ; @deffonotjae

[dream-with-a-fever]

What would hinny's weirdest date night look like?

i feel like these two are pretty much down for anything like they’re both natural born disasters, incredibly chaotic, quick to anger, and ginny especially is very competitive, so i honestly feel like they would get up to all kinds of mischief. imagine them on activity dates like bowling and mini golf like just imagine ginny’s all “harry, did you see? i got it in!” and harry’s shaking his head laughing, “very good, darling” or they’re on a movie date and harry keeps trying to kiss ginny but she’s shovelling popcorn in her mouth, eyes glued to the screen. the opportunities are endless.

i think their weird date nights would coincide with any interaction with harry’s family. i can imagine them out for dinner in london somewhere, running into vernon and petunia. maybe it’s the first time they see ginny, and petunia nearly has a heart attack seeing the two of them together… bit of déjà vu. and if they were invited to dudley’s wedding or something, i just know ginny would be causing all kinds of chaos, and harry would be trying hard to be serious and mature, warning her against getting up to mischief, but ginny can't help it: slipping aunt marge a fever fudge, and jinxing vernon’s legs together when he stands up to make a speech. the chaos and joy they bring each other kills me. god bless.

[holdmytesseract]

About Time

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x girlfriend!reader

Summary: You have important news to tell your best friends...

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 573

a/n: Yep, you read that right... girlfriend!reader! 😱 This is just a small drabble, announcing what is hopefully to come in the next few weeks/months... 👀😊

Baby Fever Crew: @lokisgoodgirl @km-ffluv @eleniblue @vbecker10 @loz-3 @jennyggggrrr @lokisninerealms @peaches1958 @multifandom-worlds @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lou12346789 @kimanne723 @coldnique @lady-rose-moon @mostclevermiss @aagn360 @acefeather2002 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @chennqingg @lokiforever @anukulee

Peeps, who I think might be interested... @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @smolvenger ☺️

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

You were literally running down the hallway towards the Avengers common living room, smiling like a Cheshire cat. Although, running was perhaps the wrong term. Rather walking fast, with a happy spring in your step. Without hesitation, you stormed inside the large room, in which Natasha, Wanda and Pepper sat on the big sofa, watching a movie on girl's night. The plan was to join them, but your boyfriend kinda crossed that plan…

You were so excited and fast, that you almost crashed into the door frame, but made it to stop yourself mere inches before the impact. "Giiiiirls!" You yelled; announcing your presence. You could see how your friends flinched at the sudden, shrill voice calling them out, before three heads snapped into your direction. Six pairs of eyes staring at you in surprise. "He did it! HE DID IT!" You screamed from the top of your lungs, probably waking everyone who lived in this big building. Natasha's eyes widened, as she caught up immediately to your words. "He did IT?" You nodded quickly and started to jump up and down in sheer endless happiness. "Yes!" A high-pitched squeal left the spy's lips, "О мой Гош! Наконец-то! (Oh my gosh! Finally!)" before she stood up from the sofa and made her way quickly over to you, to pull you into a bone crushing hug.

"I thought he was never going to do it," said Natasha. "Honestly, sweetie, I was moments away from asking him if he lost his balls during the time he spent here on earth." You couldn't help but to laugh at your friend's words. "Right, Nat!? It was about time Loki finally proposed," stated Pepper. "I couldn't agree more." Wanda had the same opinion. "Did he ask you on your date tonight?" You nodded at the Russian beauty. "Yep!" "At the lake?" "At the lake." "Uhhh!" Pepper wiggled her eyebrows. "With a picnic?!" You nodded once more, signalling Tony's wife that she was right. "With a picnic!" "And stargazing?!" Wanda asked, giddily. "Mhm! And stargazing!" "Eeeep!" All of them squealed, clapping their hands, behaving like teenage school girls. But hence, you weren't better.

Pepper and Wanda were still quite a bit confused; didn't catch up as fast as Natasha to what was going on. "What?" Intervened Pepper curiously. "Loki did what???" You let go of Nat and beamed at your other friends.

Lifting your hand, you showed them a silver ring with a green emerald, which sparkled on your ring finger. "He proposed! He PROPOSED!" Realisation dawned on Pepper and Wanda now as well. "Oh.My.Freaking.Gosh!" "You're getting married?!" Wanda exclaimed excitedly. "I.AM.GETTING.MARRIED!" The blonde- and brown-haired women squeaked and cheered happily and stood up in order to run over to you and literally over run you with hugs and congratulations. You giggled with them; drunk on happiness.

"So it was exactly how you dreamed it would be?" Pepper couldn't help but to ask. "Yes. It absolutely was! He conjured the ring from the stars, can you believe that?! It was perfect..." You answered, sighing dreamy. "Wow..." Natasha smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Mister Mischief is really following through with this, huh?" "Yeah... He really means it. Loki truly loves me. Just like I love him." "Awww," Pepper cooed, literally having heart eyes by now. Wanda giggled and wrapped her arms around yours and Natasha's waist. "Girls, we have a wedding to prepare." Your two other friends agreed. "Oh, we absolutely do!"

[peacockpenis]

endless mischief movie night in – "suicide squid"

[knightprincess]

We Are One (A Star Wars Oneshot)

Words: 1.5k Warnings: Only if you count terrible singing! Summary: The boys of Clone Force 99 have a little fun at Pabu's Life Day festival. Set Post TBB Season 3 Note: Tech's alive in this! Mox, Deke, and Stak were adopted by the Bad Batch. Also Lion King Parady (I think)

Pabu had been its ever-peaceful self since Hemlock’s demise and the fall of the Advance Science Division. Since all knowledge of Omega had been explosively wiped from the Empire’s databanks. The members of Clone Force 99 had retired and worked to build a life outside of running, outside of being soldiers. Now, they worked to help Pabu thrive and focused on being the family they’d always been at heart.

The days had been quiet outside the odd bouts of mischief from Omega, Mox, Deke, and Stak. Sometimes, Lyana would be involved, too, although most of the time, the mayor’s daughter sat back and watched the chaos unfold.

On the odd occasion, things would take a different turn. Omega would remain in the little family domicile and spend time with her brothers. Sometimes, it would be random games with Wrecker that would soon involve the others or asking Tech questions about the most unusual things; mimicking Hunter and Crosshair were her favorites, as were the experiments in the kitchen and getting to hug Echo when he finally decided to drop by for a visit.

Movie nights were also a weekly occurrence. Sometimes, they went by without much hassle, but most times, they ended in a popcorn fight. Phee would join in when she was there. Stories of the past were an everyday occurrence. Tech would matter-of-factly tell his own, always ready to answer any questions. Hunter always ensured he was child-friendly, even when telling them to Stak, Deke, and Mox. Echo told the stories of his own cadet days and the endless chaos he caused with Fives, Jesse, and Kix. Whereas Crosshair would spare no one’s feelings and tell each story in all its glorious detail. While often throwing his brothers under the metaphorical bus.

Unknown to most, though, the constant questions about the past and begging for stories to be told had all been a distraction for the most part. Omega, Mox, Stak, and Deke had mischief in the works and had once again roped Lyana into helping. The mayor’s daughter had also taken the time to distract Phee, asking for stories on her adventures across the galaxy, both in famous treasure hunts and for the priceless artifacts she so often brought back.

“So how are we going to get them to sing the intended song?” asked Stak, suspecting it would be no easy task to get Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, or Crosshair to sing anything, especially the snarky sniper. Echo wouldn’t be easy to convince either if he happened to stop by in another unannounced visit again after all previous attempts had failed for the most part. Only Wrecker had played along, as had Phee on a few occasions.

“Leave that to me,” announced Phee as she walked past. Her destination was clear: the atrium, likely to place another priceless artifact inside. “Either that or use your powers of being adorable kids to your advantage,” she added with that knowing smile. After all she knew, Omega practically had Hunter and Crosshair wrapped around her little finger.

~* Weeks Later *~

The plan was in motion; with the help of Phee, everything had been set up. The small Life Day festival was already in full swing, with stalls in the large square at the top of the island, lights strung in the streets, hanging in trees, and carefully fixed to the large sea walls. Music was played live via instruments and random pieces over the holonet, and transceivers set up.

Omega and Lyana danced together and laughed amidst their fun; the boys were roped into joining them, too. Echo had stopped by for a visit, bringing Rex, Howzer, Gregor, Cody, and Wolffe with him. Each seemingly found a sense of peace during the visit, even if it was about to be disturbed by the attempt the five mischievous ones had in mind to commit.

At the request of Phee, a specific song was played by those playing instruments at the festival. A smile painted on her lips to see Tech had recognized the tune; after all, she’d spent time getting each member of the Bad Batch prepared for the event. All to surprise Omega, Mox, Stak, and Deke. For once, putting the four in the center of the mischief and potential embarrassment.

“As you go through life, you’ll see there is so much that we don’t understand,” began Tech, unsure of his own talents when it came to singing but going with the flow nonetheless. Mox stood between Phee, and Tech went wide-eyed. “And the only thing we know is things don’t always go the way we planned.”

“But you’ll see every day that we’ll never turn away when your dreams come undone,” continued Crosshair, creeping upon Deke, ensuring the former cadet knew he couldn’t escape this. Like Mox, his eyes went bold, and his cheeks began to redden, even more so when the attention of those attending the festival turned to Crosshair and those singing. “We will stand by your side, filled with hope and filled with pride. We are more than we are. We are one.”

“This is so embarrassing,” commented Deke.

“Did we miss something?” asked Howzer as Gregor all but whistled and cheered from his side.

“Family, family, we are one,” began Shev and Phee, either side of Lyana, who tried her hardest to hide behind the scarf she’d chosen to wear that day. “Family, family, we are one,” they repeated; this time, Phee casually walked away, stopping at Echo’s side as if indicating he, too, had some part in it.

“Something you want to tell us, Echo?” voiced Rex, recalling all the mischief the Arc Trooper had caused during the war.

“For once, I’m innocent in this,” replied Echo, attempting to plead his case, although he quickly understood it was unlikely to work.

“You are anything but innocent, especially when Fives was around,” called Cody. A grin appeared across his lips now, even more so to see Wolffe’s utter confusion, although the battle-worn commander was starting to sway to the music.

“If there’s so much I must be, can I still just be me the way I am?” sang Omega, throwing caution to the wind and joining in before Hunter had the chance to catch her as Tech and Crosshair had thrown Mox and Deke into the spotlight.

“Can I trust in my own heart, or am I just one part of some big plan?” added Lyana before dancing off with Omega, spotting Stak trying to hide now, likely having worked out he too wouldn’t be able to escape the off-key singing or the spotlight destined to find him at Wrecker’s hand.

“Even those who are gone are with us as we go on. Your journey has only begun,” sang Hunter, appearing next to Echo, deciding to throw the Arc Trooper in the limelight instead. “Tears of pain, tears of joy. One thing nothing can destroy is our pride. Deep inside, we are one.”

“I’m starting to like these boys more and more,” commented Wolffe, his smirk slowly morphing into something that resembled a natural smile as he slurped his coconut drink. Gregor was at his side, offering a chuckle filled with mischief, almost like he was taking ideas from the display happening before him.

“Family, family, we are one,” sang the entirety of Clone Force 99, Crosshair, with his arm thrown over Hunter’s shoulder. “Family, family, we are one,” they repeated—this time with Gregor joining in and Howzer humming along to the catchy tune.

“And I thought your boys had lost their marbles,” said Cody, looking to Rex, who had since been cast into silence. However, it remained unknown what had caused it. The members of Clone Force 99 are off-key singing or just the unlikely scene in general.

“Just be glad this didn’t take place during the war,” commented Echo, suspecting the boys of the Bad Batch weren’t above doing something like this during their frat boy days.

“That would have been legendary,” replied Howzer, once again hearing Gregor chuckle, this time at Wolffe’s expression, the former commander silently asking if the captain had gone crazy.

“We are one, you and I. We are like the earth and sky. One family under the sun,” started Wrecker, a wide smile stretching over his lips as he threw an arm over Stak, preventing the former cadet from hiding longer or escaping. “All the wisdom to lead,” he added as he pointed to Hunter, “All the courage that you need,” sang Wrecker, pointing to Crosshair. “You will find when you see we are one.”

“Family, family, we are one,” sang Gregor, louder than anyone else but with the largest grin. “Come on, old Wolffy. Family, family, we are one,” added Gregor.

“Eh, what the hell,” spoke Echo before throwing his scompt arm over Rex’s shoulder, “Family, family, we are one.”

“That’s the spirit,” called Phee from her spot across the square, holding a brightly colored drink of her own.

“Family, family, we are one,” sang Omega, Stak, Deke, and Mox around her and Lyana. Now that the embarrassment had faded, they seemed to find the funny side of everything, although they swore revenge for the cleverly planned-out display.

“Family, family, we are one.”

Masterlist

[jhutchh19992]

Josh Futturman Christmas- Headcanons

1. Christmas Movie Marathon King

Josh would be all about a Christmas movie marathon, but not your typical Hallmark-style ones. He’d insist on showing you a bizarre mix of classic Christmas films with a few cult favorites thrown in (like Die Hard or Gremlins) to keep things interesting.

2. Gifts That Are Always an Adventure

Josh isn't the type to get you something traditional. He’d probably hand you a gift —like a custom-made sweater or a DVD box set of Star Trek and The X-Files because he knows you’d appreciate the nod to pop culture and weird science fiction references.

3. Ugly Sweater Champion

Josh would absolutely rock the ugliest Christmas sweater you could imagine, but he’d make it work. You’d find him proudly wearing a custom sweater covered in pictures of him and you in a bad Photoshop job.

5. Christmas Eve at Home: A Chill Vibe

On Christmas Eve, instead of a big family gathering, Josh would want to keep it low-key with just the two of you, hanging out in your comfy clothes. He’d make you a very questionable Christmas dinner—maybe a weird fusion of random dishes from different time periods. Picture a Christmas turkey... with a side of futuristic Soylent? Still, the effort would be there, and you’d both end up laughing about the culinary disaster. He’d make sure you’re comfortable, cozy, and feel the love without the fuss.

7. Endless Christmas Jokes and Lame Puns

Josh would be a Christmas pun machine, always coming up with the worst puns related to time travel, Christmas, and your relationship. You’d roll your eyes, but secretly love it when he makes a terrible joke that only the two of you would understand.

9. He’d Totally Be the One Who Still Believes in Santa

Josh Futturman? Definitely still believes in Santa Claus. He’d have a mischievous grin when it comes to Christmas Eve, assuring you that Santa is real.

10. After the Holidays: Reflection and Growth

Josh might not always show it, but Christmas would be a time where he'd get a little sentimental. He’d reflect on how far he’s come, and how much having you in his life has changed him for the better.

11. Unconventional Christmas Traditions

Josh would be all about starting new, unconventional Christmas traditions. Instead of a big, fancy dinner, he might suggest something fun and low-key like a DIY pizza-making night where you both build your own quirky Christmas pizzas (pepperoni snowflakes, anyone?). Or, maybe you two start a new tradition of wrapping each other's presents in a ridiculous way—like wrapping them in newspaper, old maps, or random fabric scraps.

12. Christmas Lights Disaster

Josh would take the Christmas lights way too seriously. After getting all pumped about the idea of setting up the perfect light display outside, he would inevitably get tangled up in the lights, trip over extension cords, and struggle with getting everything to look "just right." But instead of being frustrated, he’d just laugh at himself and keep going, probably convincing you to join in the chaos for moral support.

13. The World's Most Extra Christmas Stockings Josh isn’t the type to settle for normal Christmas stockings. No, no. He’d make sure your stockings are extra in every way—super big, hilariously overstuffed, and probably filled with a weird mix of things like arcade tokens, strange snacks from different parts of the world, and novelty gadgets that you’d never know how to use.

14. Mischievous Elf Mode

Josh would totally embrace the Christmas mischief and be that boyfriend who sets up little surprises around the house. He’d sneakily hide little gifts or notes for you to find throughout the day, maybe in the most random places—like tucked inside your favorite book, or hidden under the pillow.

15. Under the Mistletoe Mischief

Josh would take the tradition of mistletoe to a whole new level. He’d definitely use it as an excuse to kiss you, but he might make it playful, teasing you with slow, lingering kisses before pulling back and whispering something like, “Oh, no, no... I don’t think that was long enough. We need another kiss. And another. And another...” Until you're both wrapped up in each other, tangled in the heat of the moment, laughing and kissing under the mistletoe until it’s more than just a tradition—it’s a steamy ritual.

16. Fireside Seduction

Josh would be the type to set the mood with the fireplace crackling softly in the background. You'd be cuddled up on the couch together, under a thick blanket, with his hand casually resting on your leg. But Josh, being Josh, would always have a bit of mischief in his eyes. Slowly, he'd start teasing you with subtle touches—his fingers grazing the skin of your inner thigh, his lips brushing the back of your neck every time he leans in to whisper something, or even slipping a hand under your shirt just enough to feel your skin. The temperature would be rising as the two of you playfully build up the tension, knowing full well that no one else would be around to interrupt your private Christmas moment.

[bunnysnuff]

Sleepover.

Pairing: Everyone x m!reader. Charlie spring x m!reader (hinting).

Trigger warning: none.

Note: Happy Heartstopper day!<3

The excitement in the air was palpable as you and the Heartstopper crew gathered at Charlie Spring’s house for a much-anticipated sleepover. The night promised snacks, games, and endless laughter, and you could hardly wait. Charlie’s parents had kindly agreed to let you all take over the living room, transforming it into a cozy haven for the night.

As you stepped inside, you were greeted by the familiar warmth of Charlie’s home, the soft glow of fairy lights strung around the room creating a magical atmosphere. Charlie himself was busy setting up blankets and pillows, a big smile on his face as he welcomed everyone in.

“Hey! You made it!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you replied, grinning back at him.

Tara, who had just arrived, was already sorting through a bag of snacks, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I brought all the best sweets,” she announced. “Chocolate, gummy bears, and even some popcorn. We’re going to need it for the movie marathon!”

“Perfect!” you said, joining her as she set up a snack station on the coffee table.

Nick and Imogen arrived next, arms full of blankets and pillows, both laughing as they tried to balance everything. “We come bearing gifts!” Nick proclaimed dramatically, dropping the pile onto the floor. “Let the sleepover commence!”

After a few more friends trickled in, the living room was filled with laughter and chatter. You all settled in, the cushions creating a comfortable nest on the floor. Tara quickly set up the TV for the movie marathon, scrolling through the options.

“Let’s start with a classic,” she suggested. “How about The Princess Bride?”

“Yes!” Charlie chimed in. “I love that one!”

The lights dimmed, and the movie began, the familiar scenes filling the room with warmth and nostalgia. You found yourself laughing along with everyone, enjoying the mix of friendly banter and playful teasing that filled the space.

At one point, during a particularly cheesy scene, you leaned over to Charlie. “Can you believe how ridiculous this is?” you whispered, trying not to laugh too loudly.

He turned to you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s amazing. But I think we can make it even better.” With that, he grabbed a handful of popcorn and launched it at you, a playful challenge in his gaze.

You quickly retaliated, tossing a few pieces back at him, and before you knew it, a full-fledged popcorn fight had broken out. Laughter erupted as everyone joined in, tossing popcorn at each other and trying to dodge the flying snacks. Charlie’s mom popped her head in, an amused expression on her face, but she just shook her head and left you all to your fun.

Once the popcorn war had settled down and the laughter had faded, the next movie began to play. As the night wore on, the energy shifted to a cozy vibe. You all cuddled under blankets, sharing stories and joking around, the bonds of friendship deepening with each passing moment.

As the credits rolled on the third movie, you felt a comfortable warmth enveloping you. The laughter and chatter had transformed into sleepy murmurs, and you could see that some of your friends had already started to doze off.

Tara stretched and yawned. “Okay, who’s ready for a midnight snack?”

The suggestion brought everyone back to life, and soon the living room was filled with energy again. You all made your way to the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards for anything edible. You grabbed some cookies and milk, holding them up triumphantly.

“Behold! The ultimate midnight snack!” you declared, earning a round of cheers from your friends.

You spent the next hour indulging in late-night treats, sharing stories, and even playing a few rounds of cards. As you sat there, surrounded by your friends, you felt an overwhelming sense of belonging.

Eventually, everyone started to feel the effects of the late hour. One by one, your friends began to curl up on the floor, falling asleep amid the pillows and blankets. You leaned back against the couch, feeling content and happy. Charlie, who had been lying next to you, nudged you gently.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you replied, looking over at him. He smiled, and for a moment, you both just enjoyed the comfortable silence, the sounds of soft breathing and quiet snores filling the room.

As the last movie played softly in the background, you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of friendship wash over you. Tonight had been perfect, and as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for moments like this with the best of friends in the entire world.

[midnightscxre]

@feral-fuqboi-danny​

It was a secret that was held like breath underwater. It rose up to her throat, which squeezed it , gurgled it back into her chest, where it, like a carbon dioxide, wrestled with her lungs and demanded to get out. But it didn’t. It couldn’t  Not after what she did. What she was doing for a long time.

Clare’s days in solitude were over. The tent she destroyed to make a hammock between the long, tall branches of the two pine trees was cut down, and dragged to the clear sight among the other survivors. It didn’t happened over night, or did, she was not certain. It was like feeding a wounded animal, with patience and dedication, the other survivors were hell bent on luring her back into the in the meager dimensions of security, near to the bon fire. The day that changed what seemed to be an eternity was when the temperamental loner that was mostly despised saved every single survivor just when it was time for them to be consumed by the entity.

She had an exit. And everyone thought she will take it. 

But the redhead did the opposite, humiliating the killer in the process. And no other, than Myers, the one counting sins mercilessly in silence. After all, the man stole the gravestone in pure malice, to continue his wicked path of revenge. However, that night he ended up with a foot in the head, knife hammered to his hand, and to top it off, ruined mask with a fire cracker no less. What she did, took great bravery and even more insanity, but the example she showed, to go after the killers, bloomed fast, and soon enough, she became a leader, everyone spearheaded by the fearless redhead. It gave them hope. It gave their spirit something more than the desire to run, to be more than rabbits running in front of their certain demise. The slight change in the survivor’s behavior didn’t end there. To be frank, there were secrets, hidden affairs, favorites. . . the place was worst than Big brother, just here the lucky ones won their life not ravaged for Entity’s entertainment.  But from all the shenanigans, drama and private affairs, there was something that was almost a taboo subject, something no one dared to do. And that was to openly and loudly, mock the killers. Even around the spitting embers. Mocking the killers meant more suffering, brutal kills, a unholy torture. . . but quickly it became a routine, fun way to spend the night. Again, starting with Clare. 

The woman went after all the killers, maybe the Huntress a bit less due to the history told in whispers, but there was one she had her claws in the most. Shroud always hiding every inch of his body, shadows covering his every move and embracing him as one of their own, silence was his weapon, stealth his death sentence he forced upon everyone. . . with more joy than others, with such enjoyment that he even took photos to admire or mock later, who knows, Clare swore he even jerked on them. Sick fuck. So, she did what no one else has done before. Went to the killer’s realm in order to do mischief. In order mess with them. With him. 

It was not easy, not in the slightest. Risk was higher than with others, this one could be anywhere and no one would hear him coming. But after months of effort, she got a window of ten minutes she needed. It seemed the man was a fan of the Legion, and while he was enjoying himself with his ‘ friends ‘, scarlet haired woman entered his living area. . . and made sure he knew it. Stolen goods, ruined photos with a red marker stating ‘ DICKface ‘, Eat it, Fuck you, You are no ones favorite scary movie, just a comedy’ .. . . the messages were endless, along with the photos of her middle finger on every empty film roll he owned. However. . . there was something she didn’t expect. A photo. Hidden  photo. Clare stared in shock and. . .well, fascination. The only killer hell bent over never to uncover his face, the only one no one has seen. . . had his mask off. Taking a photo with the legion. Pine-green eyes stared at the undeniably handsome face. Two dark pearls of the eyes luring her in with something dangerous, challenging. . . promising. That staring nearly got her caught, hearing the movement in the last second, and fleeing the ‘ crime scene ‘ with the picture by mistake. 

It started. . . strange. Gazing at the photo in private, under the ‘ new ‘ tent the survivors helped her to built. Frowning at the picture, throwing it around, nearly tearing it, since it had some unexplained charm to it, something that pulled her in like a magnet. Something that brought a bunch of realizations she managed to burry until that cursed moment when she saw his face. The way he operated and staled -- flawless, a skill to admire in eve. The way he played with the pray --- fascinating to observe, specially to her and her endless interest in such people. The way he thrived and bathed in every sick kill and slash he made, the way the hoarse voice sounded, the way the deep, smoky laugh echoed through the fog. . . it made a lethal combination in her mind, and before she knew it, the one she wanted ruin the most, became the favorite killer, and she didn’t look forward to his arrival only to ruin his day. . . oh no, it was much, much more.

It began with comments, whistles, waves . . giving away her position for no reason, stalking him, like they were playing a game. Much less pallets on his head, much more small things that don’t hurt as much thrown at him. Much more. . . ‘ playful ‘ winks and jokes. Of course, none of it sounded nice, playful or anything that would be mistaken for something that is ‘ not ‘ . . . but it was. . . very different. So different people started to notice, the survivors, some of them. 

Clare was low on ground, fingers resting on the muddy surface. The hook hovering over her head. She looked around, hearing the busy hands working on a generator. She was supposed to stay and guard the area, to alert. . . but what she wanted, was to distract. Ivory color of the mask flashed quickly behind the thick tree trunk, almost seeming as a literal ghost. . . but she knew it was him. A a secretive and scheming grin on her face. Her heart accelerated with some form of happiness, like the teenager seeing their crush in the hallways. It was so foolish it slipped her mind, and just like that, she got to her feet. “ Photos you take are so. . . boring.  All the same poses, all the same places, same bleeding shit. . and so much potential is wasted. “ Long, elegant  arms reached for the hook, bringing the whole body up with ease. “ Always thought this grim things were much more exciting than a stripper pole. “ Hourglass shaped moved quickly, sensually, as she flipped her head and allowed herself upside down then back, spreading the alluring inked legs before wrapping them around the hook again. “ Was that one of your kinks, hm? Chasing down strippers and prostitutes for an easy kill. It’s a good start. No one looks for them, they don’t scream when you touch them, you can take your time with both pleasures, if you are catching my drift. “ Remaining to swing like she isn’t confronted by a killer that is known to go feral on the sight on her, dedicated to tear her apart, she continued. “ What was your choice? Brunette? Blonde?. . . Redheads? “ Cheeky green on the plump lips, teasing the man. . . or. . . . . fishing for some information about his taste.