#he got all defensive but admitted he liked her before she told him but not anymore and then got weird when i told him both of those were OK

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 23

Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Tiny smidge of brief angst, but flufffff

A/N: Only a few more chapters to go..... 😭🫶🏻

The warm scent of roasted vegetables and garlic filled Sam’s apartment as he moved around the kitchen, Wanda and Natasha chatting at the table. A few candles flickered on the counter, their soft light casting a cozy glow. The night had started lighthearted, with jokes and reminiscing about old times, but there was an underlying tension—Sam had been quieter than usual.

As the three of them sat down to eat, Sam finally cleared his throat, breaking the casual flow of conversation. “So, there’s something I need to tell you both.”

Wanda and Natasha exchanged curious glances, but Natasha was the first to speak. “What’s up?”

Sam sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been offered a big promotion at the VA. It’s… it’s a lot more responsibility, a lot more pay, and honestly, it’s kind of my dream job.”

“That’s amazing!” Wanda said, clapping her hands together. “Congratulations, Sammy! You deserve it.”

Natasha smiled, but her brow furrowed slightly. “That is amazing! Buuuuut, why do you look like someone just told you your dog died?”

Sam let out a nervous laugh, fiddling with the edge of his napkin. “Because there’s a catch. The job’s in Washington... I’ll be moving in a week and a half.”

The table fell silent. Wanda’s excitement dimmed slightly, her smile softening. “Oh, Sam… that’s… wow.”

Natasha leaned back in her chair, her lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s a big change.”

“It is,” Sam admitted. “But it’s the right move for me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m excited, but leaving all of you behind? That’s the hard part.”

Wanda reached across the table, placing a hand over his. “We’re happy for you, Sam. Really. We’ll miss you, but this is huge.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll miss you like crazy, but you’ve got to do what’s best for you, and we'll always be here you know that"

Sam smiled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks, guys that really means a lot.”

Sam took a sip of his beer, his eyes darting between Wanda and Natasha as if he was working up the nerve to say something else.

“Who else knows?” Wanda asked cutting him off, taking a sip of her beer.

“Well, now that you both know, I should probably let you in on a little secret,” Sam said, his tone teasing but hesitant. “You two are actually the last ones to find out, don't hate me"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “The last ones?” she asked, her voice tinged with mock offense. “Wow, Sam. Save the best for last?”

Sam chuckled. “Exactly. Had to save the best for last, thats right!.... I told Bucky first—obviously…then Y/N, then Steve.”

Wanda leaned forward, smirking. “So, basically, you told everyone else first.”

“Listen,” Sam said, holding his hands up defensively. “I wanted to tell everyone together, but, uh, let’s just say there’s been a lot going on lately.” His gaze flicked to Natasha for a split second before he looked away.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam hesitated, taking another sip of his beer. “Well, I, uh… I heard about what Steve said to her after the whole thing between you two.”

Natasha froze, her expression hardening. “What do you mean? What did Steve say?”

Sam’s lips parted, then closed as he struggled to find the right words. Wanda’s head whipped toward him. “You’re not just gonna leave us hanging, are you?”

Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Look, it’s not really my place to say what exactly happened. But… yeah, I heard about it all"

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “We haven’t talked all week. After I told her we, I needed space, we’ve been taking that seriously this time.”

Wanda nodded slowly, her voice soft. “She hasn’t mentioned it to me either. We’ve just been talking about the little trip Bucky planned for them.”

"What trip?" Natasha questioned "I didn't know about a trip"

Wanda sighed "They're at that Cabin you all went to for summer when you were kids, and too be fair you asked for space from her not the other way around, probably why she didn't tell you...."

Natasja groaned rubbing her hands over her eyes. Sam’s gaze softened, his usual teasing edge replaced with concern. “Nat, I think she's been through a lot lately. She didn’t tell me much, but I know she ran into Steve after she left you, and well he said some pretty outta pocket things to her.”

Natasha blinked, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to process his words. “What… what things?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell.... But from what I’ve pieced together, She’s been carrying a lot on her shoulders—between the things with you, what Steve said both times, and just… everything.”

Natasha’s expression was unreadable, her eyes distant. After a long pause, she murmured, “I should’ve handled things better. I let my feelings get in the way, and now…”

Sam reached across the table, resting his hand on hers. “Nat, it’s not too late. You and her have been through worse and come out stronger. Just… don’t let this fester for too long”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Wanda gave her a reassuring smile. “Start by talking to her. You know she’s always willing to hear you out, you’re besties for a reason”

Sam nodded, his tone firm but kind. “Exactly. You’ve both been through too much together to let something like this tear you apart.”

Natasha exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll try. I just… I didn’t realize how much I let this all spiral. Ugh, thanks guys.”

He gave her a small grin. “Hey, what are friends for? Besides, I can’t move away knowing my kids aren’t playing nice.”

Wanda burst into laughter, smacking his arm playfully. “Your kids?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, shrugging with mock seriousness. “I need all my children to get along before I leave. I can’t abandon this dysfunctional little family otherwise.”

Natasha let out a reluctant chuckle, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, Dad. We’ll figure it out.”

Sam raised his beer. “That’s all I ask. Now, who’s ready for dessert? I made brownies, and I’m not letting you two leave without trying them.”

As the brownies were passed around the table, the mood lightened, but Sam couldn’t shake the subtle tension radiating from Natasha. He glanced at Wanda, who gave him an encouraging nod, as if silently urging him to address the elephant in the room, the one between him and Wanda, the one Natasha didn't even know about. Wanda only knew because she got here 30 minutes before Natasha and Sam thought who better to ask if he should tell her what he knew than someone who lived with Natasha 24/7 and knew her like the back of her hand.

Sam took a deep breath, setting down his beer. “Hey, Nat,” he started casually, but there was a seriousness to his tone that made her look up. “There’s, uh… something else I think you should know.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, already bracing herself. “What now, Sam? You moving to the moon next?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Nah, this one’s not about me. It’s about Steve.”

Her posture stiffened at the mention of his name, but she tried to play it off. “What about him?”

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “When I talked to Steve recently, he mentioned something… about you.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her lips tightening. “What exactly did he say?”

Wanda’s gaze darted between them, her brow furrowing with concern. “Sam, don’t dance around it.”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look, she told Steve that you’re in love with him.”

Natasha froze, her eyes widening for a split second before narrowing into a sharp glare. “She what?”

Sam held up his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. She didn’t mean anything by it. It just… came out.”

Natasha pushed back from the table, standing abruptly. “Why the hell would she say that? That wasn’t hers to tell.”

Wanda reached out, trying to calm her. “Nat, wait—”

“No, Wanda,” Natasha snapped, pacing the length of the kitchen. “I didn’t want him to know! Not like that. Not—God, why would she do that?”

Sam stood, keeping his voice calm. “Because she thought he deserved to know, Nat. She wasn’t trying to hurt you. She cares about you, and she thought—”

“Thought what?” Natasha interrupted, spinning on her heel to face him. “That I needed her to play matchmaker? That I couldn’t handle my own feelings?”

“Natasha,” Wanda said gently, standing as well. “She didn’t mean to overstep. You know she’s just been trying to keep everyone together.”

Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Well, she’s doing a great job of it, isn’t she?”

Sam sighed, stepping closer. “Nat, come on. You know her. She’s not trying to make things worse. She’s just… juggling a lot right now. And so are you.”

Natasha shook her head, her frustration palpable. “I don’t even know what to do with this. Steve hasn’t said a damn thing to me about it. Does he know how humiliating that is?”

Sam hesitated, then spoke carefully. “Maybe he’s trying to figure it out... You’ve had feelings for him for years, and he’s been untangling his own mess with her. It’s a lot for everyone.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her emotions warring on her face. After a long moment, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just… I didn’t want him to know like this. It feels so… exposed.”

The tension in the kitchen hung heavy as Natasha paced, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Wanda, seated at the small dining table with her glass of wine, raised her hands to diffuse the brewing storm. “Okay, but to be fair, Nat… you meddled between Bucky and Y/N for years. You practically shoved them together.”

Natasha stopped mid-step, her head snapping toward Wanda. “That’s different.”

Sam, leaning casually against the counter with a brownie in one hand and a beer in the other, raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How exactly is it different?”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her voice clipped. “Because they were obviously in love with each other. Anyone with eyes could see that. They just needed a push—a little guidance.”

Wanda wasn’t buying it, her expression skeptical. “And what exactly do you think you and Steve are?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, exasperated. “That’s not the same, Wanda. Steve doesn’t…” Her words faltered, the usually sharp edge of her tone softening just slightly. “He doesn’t feel that way about me.”

Wanda sat up straighter, her voice gentler but still firm. “You don’t know that. You’re assuming, just like Y/N assumed with Bucky for years. Maybe it’s not the same, Nat, but… if you’re not even willing to try, how will you ever know?”

Natasha scoffed, clearly uncomfortable, her fingers tapping nervously against the counter. “It’s not about trying, okay? Steve’s not… he’s still hung up on her. Everyone and there pet knows that. I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”

Sam, who had been quiet through most of the exchange, let out a low whistle. “Yikes, this got real heavy, real fast.”

Natasha shot him a look, but Sam raised his brownie defensively. “Hey, I’m just saying. All this angst? It’s like being back in college.”

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh softly, the tension breaking slightly. Natasha’s lips twitched, but her frustration still simmered beneath the surface.

Wanda placed a comforting hand on Natasha’s arm. “You have every right to feel the way you do. But maybe this is a chance to finally have that conversation with him. No more guessing, no more waiting.”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes glistening slightly. “Yeah, because those conversations always go so well,” she muttered bitterly.

Sam reached out, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Nat, you’re one of the strongest people I know. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Thanks, Dad.”

Wanda smiled softly, her voice teasing. “Hey, he’s just trying to get all his kids on good terms before he leaves.”

That finally earned a small, reluctant smile from Natasha. She looked at Sam, her anger softening. “I’ll figure it out. But if this goes sideways, you’re explaining to Steve why I threw his ass out a window.”

Sam grinned. “Deal.”

Before anyone could say more, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the apartment. The door opened, and Steve walked in, looking tired but still managing to offer a small smile. “Hey.”

Sam perked up immediately, pushing off the counter. “Perfect timing Stevie. Brownie or beer?” He held up both as an offering.

Steve chuckled lightly, hanging his jacket by the door. “Why not both?” he replied, running a hand through his hair before stepping into the kitchen. “What’s going on in here?”

The three of them exchanged a quick glance before Wanda, ever the smooth one, piped up. “Oh, you know. Just solving the world’s problems over alcohol and baked goods.”

Steve’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Natasha, who quickly busied herself with clearing a nonexistent mess on the counter. “You okay?” he asked her directly, his tone quiet and concerned.

Natasha didn’t meet his eyes, her voice brisk. “Fine. Just tired.”

Steve didn’t push, nodding slowly before reaching for the beer Sam had handed him. “Well, I’m gonna chug this beer and devour some brownies, long day.”

As he moved toward the living room, Wanda watched him go, then turned to Natasha. “You’re gonna have to talk to him eventually, you know.”

Natasha shot Wanda a warning look, but her shoulders sagged slightly as she leaned against the counter. “I know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sam, finishing his brownie, clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s my cue. I’ll let you ladies work out all the feelings. Steve and I are gonna dive into this six-pack.” He winked and walked toward the living room, leaving Natasha and Wanda in a lingering silence.

Natasha finally sat down across from Wanda, swirling her glass of wine but not drinking. “I don’t know if I can, Wanda. Talk to him, I mean.”

Wanda tilted her head, her voice soft. “Why not?”

Natasha let out a bitter laugh. “Because I’ve been standing on the sidelines for years. Watching him pine for her, knowing I’d never measure up. How do you even start a conversation after that?”

Wanda reached across the table, her fingers brushing Natasha’s. “You start by being honest. No more sidelines, Nat. You deserve to be happy too.”

Natasha’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked them away. “Easier said than done.”

Wanda smiled gently. “Yeah, but the best things usually are.”

As they finished dessert, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. Sam stood to start clearing plates, and Natasha leaned back in her chair, glancing over at Steve. “Hey, you mind stepping out to the balcony with me for a second?”

Steve raised an eyebrow but nodded, grabbing his beer before following her outside.

The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the balcony. Natasha leaned against the railing, her arms crossed as she stared out at the skyline.

Steve joined her, standing a few feet away. “What’s on your mind?”

Natasha hesitated, her fingers gripping the railing tightly. Finally, she sighed and turned to face him. “Sam told me you know.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “About what?”

She rolled her eyes. “About me, how I feel about you.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his expression softening. “So it’s true.”

“Yeah,” Natasha said, her voice quieter now. “It’s true.”

Steve stepped closer, resting his beer on the railing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter,” Natasha said, her tone a mix of frustration and resignation. “You were always looking at her. Always chasing after her. And I was… I don’t know. Just there.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, his gaze falling to the floor. “That’s not fair, Nat.”

“No,” she snapped, “what’s not fair is sitting on the sidelines, watching the person you love pine after someone else. Watching them hurt over and over, knowing there’s nothing you can do because they don’t see you that way.”

Steve’s eyes met hers, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” Natasha said bitterly. “Because you were too busy looking through me.”

Silence hung heavy between them, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but Natasha held up a hand, stopping him.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad,” she said, her voice softer now. “I just… I needed to say it. For me.”

Steve nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Nat. For not seeing you. For making you feel like you didn’t matter.”

She offered a small, bittersweet smile. “I know you didn’t mean to. But it doesn’t change how it felt.”

Steve reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You matter to me. You always have.”

Natasha shook her head, stepping back. “I can’t do this, Steve. Not right now. You need to figure out what you want—who you are—before you even think about coming back to me.”

Her words hung in the air, final and unwavering. Steve nodded, his heart heavy with regret. “I understand.”

“Good,” Natasha said, her voice steady. “Because I’m not going to wait around forever.”

With that, she turned and walked back inside, leaving Steve alone on the balcony, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He stared out at the city, his mind racing with everything he’d lost and everything he might never have.

The cabin glowed warmly under the soft flicker of candlelight and the crackling fire. The bottle of wine between you and Bucky was nearly empty, the two of you leaning comfortably against the couch on the plush rug. You took a sip from your glass, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, when Bucky suddenly set his glass down and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" you asked

"For loving me, for letting me love you."

You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. "There's nothing and no one i'd rather have than you, Buck."

“I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.

You tilted your head, smiling softly at him. “Okay. What’s on your mind?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “It’s about what you told me… about Steve. What he said to you. That you shouldn’t be with me, that you should be with him.”

You exhaled slowly, setting your own glass down. “Bucky…”

“It’s been bugging me,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours, vulnerable and searching. “I mean, do you—do you think he really meant that? Or was he just… hurting?”

You reached out and took his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “Bucky, I think Steve was hurting. A lot. But there’s no way he really meant it. And even if he did… it wouldn’t matter. You’ve been my person since we were kids.”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “Really?”

You nodded, your voice softening. “Do you remember the first time you tried to push me on the swing? You said, ‘Sit here. I got you.’ Then you fell on your ass and scraped your knee.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I wasn’t exactly smooth, was I?”

“No,” you teased, leaning closer. “But you’ve always been there for me, Buck. Always. I’ve never had a single doubt about that.”

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thank you. I just… I needed to hear it. With everything that’s been happening—with Steve, and now with Natasha.”

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. “What do you think is going to happen with them?”

Bucky sighed, leaning back against the couch and pulling you closer so you were tucked under his arm. “I don’t know. Natasha’s tough as nails, but Steve? He’s in his head a lot. They both deserve to be happy, though. Hopefully, they figure it out… together.”

“I hope so too,” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder. “They both deserve a happy ending.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, the weight of the topic settling between you. Then you shifted, sitting up and looking at him. “Speaking of happy endings… Sam told me.”

Bucky blinked. “Told you what?”

“About his promotion, the big move.” You studied his face, waiting for his reaction.

Bucky let out a sigh, his thumb brushing against your hand. “I wanted to tell you, but he asked me not to. I’m sorry—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You don’t get to apologize for that. Sam trusted you with something big. I could never be mad at you for keeping that promise.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “It’s gonna be weird, though. Him being halfway across the country.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice quieter. “It’s going to be weird for all of us.”

Bucky shifted, his hand gently cupping your cheek and turning you to face him. “We’ll figure it out. Just like we always do.”

You smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “You and me, right?”

“Always,” he said softly.

You let the moment linger before a thought struck you. “So… what’s our next step?”

Bucky frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” you said, gesturing vaguely, “we’re together, but we’re still living as roommates. Two separate bedrooms, two lives in one space. What do we want to do about that?”

Bucky tilted his head, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “What do you want, doll?”

You hesitated, your cheeks warming under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. “I’d love to get a house someday,” you murmured, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty. “Something with a backyard. Maybe even some space for… you know.”

Bucky’s lips quirked into a teasing smile, his blue eyes sparkling. “Kids?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze searching yours.

“Maybe,” you said softly, feeling your cheeks grow warmer. “What about you? Do you… want that?”

He didn’t answer right away, but the way his expression softened made your heart skip a beat. Slowly, he leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. The weight of his next words felt like a vow. “A house, a backyard, a family. With you?” His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with emotion. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Your chest tightened, the sheer sincerity in his tone leaving you breathless. But then, his lips twitched into a grin as he added, “But… in New York?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your fingers brushing against his scruffy jaw. “Maybe… Boston?” you offered, the word feeling both foreign and perfect on your tongue.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his grin widening into something radiant. “I don’t care where we are, as long as I’m with you,” he said earnestly. Then, his tone shifted, a playful but serious edge creeping in. “But you know, we don’t have to wait.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, tilting your head in question. “What do you mean?”

Bucky’s hands slid to your waist, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against your sides as he leaned closer, his voice low and certain. “I mean, I don’t want to wait to start my life with you—our life. I think we’ve waited long enough. If we both want this, why not now? Time’s never on anyone’s side, and I don’t want to waste another second without having all of this with you.”

Your breath hitched at the raw truth in his words, your heart thudding wildly in your chest. “You really mean that?” you asked, your voice a shaky whisper.

He smiled, his lips brushing softly against yours before he pulled back just enough to answer. “I do. I just want to live my life with you already. So…” His eyes searched yours, his voice dropping to something intimate and vulnerable. “Boston?”

You felt the word settle deep inside you, grounding and exhilarating all at once. “Boston,” you whispered back, nodding as your lips curved into a smile.

Bucky’s grin returned, wide and boyish, and before you could say another word, he cupped your face and kissed you, long and sweet, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes shone with happiness. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that.”

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. “I think I have some idea.”

He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one lingering and slow. “Boston,” he murmured again, as if savoring the sound of it. “It’s going to be amazing, doll. Us, a house, a backyard…” His grin turned mischievous. “Maybe even a dog before the kids, huh?”

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly full. “One step at a time, Barnes.”

[enigmaticexplorer]

Whenever you say that your response went on too long, I know I'm in for a good time.

I felt so bad for her the next day...she knows what she's doing, but she can't help herself! It's her self-defense mechanism

It's that self-awareness and the guilt/shame that accompanies it, along with the self-preserving innate human need to protect oneself. It makes for a sticky, uncomfortable, and maddening combination!

I was surprised that Fox was already waiting for her, but he is not just going to let this go. He wants to talk about it! I can't imagine how he felt all the night before.

I like to think he immediately went to Wolffe and they had a couple of drinks, and then he sat in front of a fireplace stewing. He spent all night sitting there (Wolffe abandoned him when he got tired); but he couldn't sleep. So he went into work as soon as possible to distract himself. Knew he was going to approach her as soon as she got to work. Got the alert about the cams and set out.

And when he said he wanted her that night, to me he wasn't necessarily saying he wanted to fuck her right that moment. I thought he meant he wanted to be with her, in all senses of the word.

Yes. You were right. It transcended sex. It was a pleasure-addled moment of vulnerability for Fox: admitting he wanted her - for the long term, through thick and thin, for always.

Well thank you, Commander Obvious! She is well aware of that fact, thank you very much!! But I am glad that he let her know that he knows though.

HAHA. This made me chuckle! But, to be fair, Fox is pissed off. And he's human. He has his bad-decision moments.

He was gone. He wasn't coming back to her shop. She'd driven him away. Which is what she wanted to do. But now it sucks.

Funnily, this is all part of Fox's plan. Yes - he's hurt and stewing and pissed. But he's also not going to force himself into her space when it will only make things worst. He's giving her space to stew; but he also has a guess that the distance might make her approach him. (Which is why he's so calm and unsurprised when she finally goes to his office.)

He KNEW who she was. He knew...how? BECAUSE FOX HAD TALKED ABOUT HER THAT'S HOW! He knew as soon as he saw her who she was. God, I loved that so much!!!

YES. Exactly! Fox told Wolffe about her (how could he not?). He's known about her for months. And of course he's going to be smirking at the thought of 1) her chewing out Fox (because she looks pissed, obviously), but 2) seeing his brother (hopefully) be happy.

I was so engrossed in their conversation, his reactions to her. How he was going to convince her that no matter what she said, he still wanted to be with her.

Me when men see their partner as a multifaceted human and still love her deeply: 🥹

Why was that so hot?!!! Honestly, why was that so fucking hot?

I know that MMCs lasting super long and being hella skilled in bed are what readers typically want. But I like my men desperate enough for their partner that they can't last long. The thought of her simply touching him and him nearly coming? It's my cup of tea; and I fucking love it.

"And I fell in"...LOVE! He was going to say he fell in LOVE!!!

And the way you ended up this chapter...brilliant!! Absolutely brilliant

Fun fact: the code to her apartment is the day the first Star Wars movie came out in theaters!

I'm going to reuse the only gif as my acknowledgement of all of your comments and how happy they make me:

Let Me Love You - Part IV

Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part

General Summary. An opportunity to expand your grandmother’s business brings you to Coruscant and a chance-encounter with Commander Fox. Friendship is your intent. But feelings grow, and with them, renewed fears. 

Pairing. Commander Fox x female!OC

General Warnings. Self-esteem issues; intimacy issues; trust issues; explicit sexual content. 

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Word Count. 3.4K

9 Kelona, Zhellday

Early morning sunlight greeted you, playful and eager. It was the same each morning. A monotony fitting Coruscant’s metallic environment. 

The planet’s controlled climate lacked the inspiration of a heavy rainstorm as the skies blackened and sheets of rain pummeled the fields. 

It lacked the novelty of a spring snowstorm as a dense fog captured the hills in its uncanny embrace and snow blanketed the landscape for kilometers.

It lacked the natural yet unpredictable change among autumn’s maple leaves and the joy of a harvest nearing completion.

Perched on the edge of your bed, you glared out the window at the cityscape beyond. Already the walkways bustled with life. Air traffic crowded the sky. 

A planet with more than a trillion beings and you were more alone than ever.

A result of your actions, you were well aware of this fact. 

As solitude consoled you with its quiet, independence-encouraged embrace, so too did self-sabotage comfort: a self-preserving shadow that protected you from the unknowns of the future. 

Both solitude and self-sabotage were formerly lurking forces that, over many years, became your closest allies.

They looked out for you. 

They wanted what was best for you. 

They cared about you.

They were voices of reason. They maintained an organized list of your flaws, and reminded you of them often. Not to humiliate or shame you. Rather, to protect you from the inevitable hurt of abandonment. 

You couldn’t be hurt if you never opened yourself to the vulnerability of being—

Your feet lurched to a stop outside the stained-glass windows of the gallery. The panes of purples, blues, greens, and yellows glowed beneath the morning sunlight. They weren’t the attention of your focus, though. 

It was the man with a shoulder resting against the door and armored arms crossed over his chest. A man who was seven hours early.

You ground your teeth. Clenched and unclenched your hands at your sides. Smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from your pencil skirt. Unease coiled tight with foreboding as you forced yourself to move forward.

Fox lifted his head. Straightening, he removed his helmet, his expression carefully blank. 

You kept your face equally blank. “What are you doing here?” 

“We received a security alert.” The answer was unexpected. Your relief must’ve shown because Fox frowned. “The cams on this street went out an hour ago. A malfunction. I need to check the gallery.”

Understanding the wordless intent in his response, you keyed in the code. The door swished open and you stepped inside. The overhead lights flickered on in welcome. Depositing your bag atop the counter, you motioned for Fox to continue into the backroom and then logged into your computer, pulling up today’s schedule. A moment later and Fox returned. 

“I’ll need your security footage for the last twenty-four hours,” he said.

“I’ll get a copy made.” Your gaze remained planted on your computer screen. “It’ll be ready tomorrow.” 

Silence, swollen with tension, thickened throughout the gallery. 

Opening a file, you prepared notes for your first two client meetings, waiting for the door to announce Fox’s departure—

“Are we gonna talk about it?”

You stiffened. It took far too much effort to meet his stare, and once you did, you wanted to look away. His gaze was too familiar. Too intense. Too intimate.

“I’m not sure what there’s to talk about,” you said calmly. “We kissed. That was it. It was a lapse in judgement—”

“A lapse in judgement?” His low chuckle was anything but humorous.  

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Your arms wrapped around your stomach. “I won’t apologize for not inviting you—”

“Let’s start with you putting words in my mouth.” There was a rigid set to Fox’s shoulders: defiant, defensive. “I never said you were a hookup.”

“And I said that I don’t do them.”

Fox exhaled a sharp breath and then braced his hands against the counter. “You ran away from me. Without an explanation. Nothing. We could’ve talked, like the adults that we are, but you fucking ran.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You offered an exasperated smile. “It was just a kiss—”

“It meant nothing to you.”

“It was just—”

“A kiss.” Ire narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. I got that.” Releasing the counter, Fox scrubbed his jaw, eyeing you with an unfamiliar hostility that made you tense. “When I told you that I wanted you, what did you—”

“You don’t want me.” Your voice was inflectionless, dismissive. “You don’t even know me.”

Fox considered you for a long time. Then, scoffing with disbelief, he turned on his heel and started toward the door. However, halfway there, he paused. He looked over his shoulder. 

“I pity you.” His voice was low and yet it carried in the silence: deafening. “You say that you want to be known—you’re a liar. You don’t want to be known. That means letting someone get close. Letting them see you. But you don’t let anyone in.” Steely anger hardened once-soft eyes. “You’re too fucking scared to give someone a chance.”  

Before you could react, before you could respond, Fox strode through the door and disappeared down the walkway.

The next day, Coruscant’s afternoon shone as usual: unordinary, temperate. You were filing notes from your recent meeting with a donor when the front door swished open. The unfamiliar cadence in the visitor’s stroll informed you that it wasn’t Fox. The differences in armor—white accented with red, no kama—further confirmed it. 

The Guard introduced himself as Commander Thire. You led him into the backroom where he checked the sword. He left with a perfunctory nod.

That night, huddled in a tight ball on one side of your bed, you gritted your teeth as tears puddled on your pillow. It didn’t matter that you were staring blankly out your window. They trickled down the planes of your face, as persistent as autumn’s drizzle pattering against red and gold leaves.

You were alone. 

You would always be alone.

The next day, Commander Thire visited your gallery at the same time with the same professional indifference. 

That night, you sat on your couch and watched hours of entertainment on the holo. It was mind-numbing. An endless relay of drama that kept you from thinking about him.

On the third day without Fox, you selected an elaborate recipe for dinner, purchased ingredients after work, and then spent four hours deliberating over your meal. 

Finely chopped vegetables, each measured to an exact length.

A pretentious sauce requiring varied times of simmering, boiling, and cooling.

Stew, slow-cooked and mandating both counterclockwise and clockwise stirring.

Bread dough left to rise to an exact second, and then kneaded for a set number of rolls.

Thinly sliced citruses, marinating in a simple syrup and then muddled.

Once finished, you sipped the vegetable stew, savored the spices of the sautéed salad’s sauce, munched on the toasted bread, sipped your citrus-infused, nonalcoholic drink. 

Throughout your silent dinner, you defended your actions and decision from a jury of mental critics. Not only were you protecting yourself, but you were saving Fox from eventual disappointment. He deserved better.

On the fourth day, while Commander Thire made his departure, you called after him: “How much longer of this?”

He paused. “ ‘Til Commander Fox deems the issue resolved.”

Your eyes narrowed. “It’s been four months. Do you really think the daily visits are necessary?”

“Commander Fox believes they are.” Commander Thire extended his chin in your direction. “He oversees this specific case. And he’s relentless with the things he wants.”

The fifth day without Fox’s presence, the 14th of Kelona, Zhellday, you were still mulling Commander Thire’s farewell from the previous day. For some reason, it was stuck in your mind. Snagged on an obstinate thorn. 

And he’s relentless with the things he wants.

As you strolled out of the gallery and down a darkening walkway, you rolled your eyes. Fox was relentless. Persistent in his objectives. Consistent in his doggedness. His relentlessness went beyond his career—it was obvious in your last conversation. The demand for an explanation. And the harshness in his parting words. 

I pity you.

Gods, you hated those three words. You hated the disdain on his face. You hated the way his judgement speared your chest and stripped you bare.  

Your pace quickened with your anger. 

How dare he judge you? 

How dare he pity you?

The mere arrogance was fucking unbelievable. 

For five days, you’d let his words exist without argument. Without debate. But he couldn’t have the last word, especially when his judgement was so inaccurate and uncalled for. 

A sharp turn took you in the opposite direction of your apartment.

Twenty minutes later, you strode into the former military base, now headquarters for various military and security departments. A lift ride spat you out on the Department of Security’s floor. Three Guards, dressed in armor, were chuckling about something. 

You strode toward the front desk. “Where’s Commander Fox’s office?” 

One of the men—a dyed mohawk slicing across his head—rubbed the back of his neck. “Commander Fox doesn’t have any available appointments this late in the evening.”

“That’s fine.” You leaned against the desk’s counter. “I’ll wait for him to leave.”

Before the Guard with the mohawk could argue, a Guard with a cybernetic eye strode out of an adjacent office. Unlike the others, he didn’t wear any armor. He glanced you over. “Down the hall,” he said. The beginning of a smirk curled his lips. “Last door on the right.”

With a curt nod, you made your way down the hall. At the last door, you rapped the metal. The door immediately opened.

“You had—”

Your voice faltered as you took in the two men seated across from Fox. Commander Thire and another Guard.

“Sorry.” Embarrassment flushed through your upper body, and you retreated a step. “I’ll wait—”

“They were just leaving.” Fox rose to his feet, levelling a pointed look at the two men. “We’ll continue this later.”

Commander Thire and the other Guard stood, the latter muttering under his breath, “We just got here.” Commander Thire thwacked the back of his head. 

As they made to leave, you scanned Fox’s office, taking in the stiff, gray couch pushed against an adjacent wall and a single holophoto mounted on the opposite wall. There were five men in the photo; they all wore different colored armor. You recognized Fox and Cody, and to your surprise, the Guard with the cybernetic. The two other men you weren’t familiar with. 

The swoosh of the door announced Commander Thire and the other Guard’s departure.

You faced Fox. He’d rounded his desk and was leaning against its front edge: relaxed, unflappable. It annoyed you.

“You had no right to say that you pity me,” you snapped. “You don’t know me—”

“I do.” Fox tucked his hands into his pockets. His gaze was steady on yours. “I’ve spent the last four months getting to know you. I know you better than you think.”

“Is that so?” He remained quietly composed, and you shook your head. He didn’t know the real you; the realization hollowed a wan smile on your mouth. “I’m opinionated and self-righteous.”

He merely arched a brow.

“I’m a perfectionist,” you said calmly. There was a desperation unspooling within you—a desperate need for him to see your flaws, your issues, and reject you. So you could finally move on. “To the point of being overly critical of both myself and those around me. I prefer things to be a certain way.”

Fox nodded solemnly.

“I’m self-preserving.” Your eyes narrowed at his unaffected demeanor. He needed to understand; you needed to make him see to understand. “I’m cold. Some probably consider me heartless.”

“I’m well aware of your flaws.” Fox spoke with an equanimity that made you stiffen. His eyes swept across your face. “I have them, too. I can be controlling when stressed. Dismissive of others’ feelings. Blunt and apathetic—so much so, it comes across as condescending.”

“We’re not talking about you.” He started to chuckle. “I’m not having kids.”

The statement cut through his chuckle and he sobered.

A knowing smirk sliced across your face. “I’m selfish when it comes to my physical and mental health, and I know myself. I know that I won’t make a good mother. But I do know that most men want kids—”

“Some of my brothers have kids. You know that.” Fox turned a smug smirk on you. “But I never imagined children in my future. I like being an uncle. That’s it.”

You gritted your teeth. “I don’t do blow jobs.”

Fox released a choked noise, and he brought a hand to his mouth, running his thumb along his lower lip. He looked…the bastard looked amused.

He was supposed to be disillusioned by these revelations. Suddenly uninterested, disgruntled. Not fucking amused.

“I don’t like being choked or roughly used or humiliated.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I refuse to be used.”

Fox nodded thoughtfully. “All right.”

His blasé response was simultaneously shocking and irksome. You frowned. “I’m being serious.”

“I know.” He shrugged at your bemused glower. “I don’t care how you touch me. And I can be satisfied with just your hands. You learned that a few nights ago.”

“I don’t believe you—”

“I almost came in my trousers that night. All because you fucking touched me.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Don’t question the effect you have on my body.”  

Your lips pressed in a thin line.

Fox tapped the edge of his desk. “Would you suck my cock if I didn’t fuck your mouth? If I let you…do whatever you wanted?”

“I…” You pressed a palm to your chest, massaging it. 

The thought of tasting him—running your tongue along his shaft, sucking on the tip, exploring his body with slow licks—without the fear of expectation or being used was…appealing. You wanted to listen to his moans, and feel him tremble beneath your touches, and watch him come apart. 

You wanted to be with him; you wanted to experience the physical intimacy. 

But, even if he didn’t fuck your mouth, it didn’t matter.

“I’m not good at sex.” You stared at him, weary, drained. “I’m slow, and I struggle to orgasm, even on my own, and penetration can hurt. It’s a waste of time—”

“I fucking hate when you say that.” Annoyance hardened the consonants of his words as Fox scowled at you. He exhaled a long breath and then pierced you with an exasperated stare. “A man won’t give a shit how long you take. So long as he gets to see you naked—so long as he gets to touch you—he’ll take whatever time is necessary.”

“You’re ignoring the part about penetration—”

“There are other ways to find pleasure.”

“Sure, but sex is—”

“A learning curve.” Fox mimicked your stance, arms crossing his chest. “I don’t care if it takes months. I don’t care if it takes years. I don’t care if I spend the rest of my fucking life learning. All that matters to me is being honest with one another. And being willing to learn.”

You dug your fingernails into your biceps. “I don’t have the body type that men want.”

“You’re generalizing men’s wants,” Fox said sharply. “But you don’t know what I want. You’ve never asked.” 

You clenched and unclenched your jaw. “What do you want?”

“You.” Fox straightened to his full height and stepped forward. “I’ve already told you this—”

“You don’t want me, Fox.” Your voice was quiet, as hollow as you felt. “You may want me temporarily, but it won’t last.”

“Yeah? How do you know that?” 

As he closed the distance between your bodies, you backed into the door, eyeing him. 

“You’ll be disappointed with me,” you said. “Or you’ll grow bored.”

Fox braced his hands on opposite sides of your head. Trapping you.

“I don’t think you’re taking my points about sex seriously—” 

“Sex is only one part of a relationship. And I fell in—” He swallowed. “I want to be with you because I like you. I like being around you. I’ve had four months to get to know you—flaws and all—and I’m still here.”

The intensity of his gaze was too much to bear, so you lowered your eyes to a point on his chest. This close, you could see the failed attempt to remove a scorch mark just above his heart.  

“You said you pity me,” you whispered.

“I…was angry,” he said quietly, regretfully. “At you. With myself. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.” 

A combination of sweat and something woody—cedar—enveloped you. As tangible as the arms caging you against the door. 

“I can’t promise that I’ll be the perfect man,” Fox murmured. “But I’ll hold myself accountable for my mistakes. And I’ll strive to be a good man.”

Emotion flared within your chest, tightening your lungs, constricting the back of your throat. 

This was supposed to be easy. Simple. He was supposed to dismiss you—see your issues and turn the other way. 

“You aren’t perfect.” Your eyes were trained on his chest plate, but you could feel the heat of his gaze on your face. He lowered his face a smidge. Your eyes met his. “I don’t expect you to be perfect. We’re human. We fuck up. We get angry. We disagree. It’s our nature.”

“But there are better options,” you said hoarsely. “Better women—” 

“I don’t want them.” His hands flexed against the door. “I want you.”

You shook your head. 

There were other flaws, you were certain of it, that would deter him. Make him realize he deserved the best this galaxy had to offer. 

You searched the crevasses and chasms of your mind, seeking out the organized list. But you’d already named the worst offenders. Would your preference to go to bed early qualify as a disqualifier? 

“I’m going back home.” You were trembling. “In three years. I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back.”

“I’d like to see the stars.”

“Don’t—” You looked away, swallowing the emotion threatening to release. It churned hot and volatile within you. “Don’t do this. Please.”

“Let me in—”

“You could hurt me.” Your back flattened against the door; your fingers scraped the metal. “You could really hurt me.”

Silence, and then: “Look at me.”

You ground your teeth. 

“Look at me.”

Your eyes lifted to his and, against your will, it happened. A single tear leaked onto your cheek, slowly drifting downwards, leaving an unmistakable trail. 

Quickly, you went to wipe it away. But just as swiftly, Fox grabbed your wrist, pressing it against the door. His eyes wandered along the tear’s trail to its conclusive end at the drop off of your chin, and then returned to yours.

“Let me love you,” he said quietly.

Undeserving.

Unlovable.

Never enough.

Another tear splashed from the corner of your eye. 

“I’m scared,” you whispered.

“I know.” Fox released your wrist and flattened both hands against the door once more. “You’re gonna have to trust me.”

“I don’t know how to.”

“Let me in, and I’ll show you.”

A part of you wanted to close your eyes, press your palms to your ears, curl inwards on yourself until it all disappeared. Fox. The last four months. That damned tiny hand pounding against your ribcage, insistent for him. You wanted to ignore it all. Pretend none of it had happened.

A greater part of you—a part tired of being alone, tired of the hollowness within you—silenced your two closest allies and their lurking whispers.

“I need space.” You felt empty, worn. “I need space to think about…everything.”

Fox surveyed you for a moment, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and then gave a short nod. “I’ll walk you back to your place.”

The first day after your conversation, Commander Thire reappeared for the daily visit. His now-familiar face was a relief. You were grateful for Fox’s consideration.

On the evening of the second day, you slipped into your sequined dress and creamy heels, treated yourself to a private dinner, and then returned to the Museum. You spent four hours perusing levels five, four, and three.

Another three days elapsed without Fox and you went to the transport center, purchasing tickets to Lefaepa for the 1st of Yelona. No matter what happened, you were resolved to return home for the Harvest Festival.

After six days, on the evening of the 20th of Kelona, you retrieved your comm and messaged Fox: 0525.

The code to your apartment building. 

Masterlist | Part III - Part V

A/N: I feel like I owe an explanation.

For an embarrassingly long time in my life, I thought blowjobs were supposed to be rough. I blame it on the media I consumed. Books and fanfic, alike, always portrayed them as a very rough activity. It became ingrained in me. Blowjobs were rough. And you simply had to take it.

I wasn't interested in rough. And I thought that because I lacked that interest, then there was something wrong with me. Eventually, just the thought of sex nauseated me. If a guy showed interest in me, I immediately cut him out because I was scared of the possibility of sex and blowjobs.

It's taken me a lot of years to process and deconstruct this belief. It's something I still struggle with; I find it hard to believe, at times, that there are men who can be content without rough blowjobs. One of the ways I'm trying to "normalize" non-rough sex for me is through writing. It's why I've avoided writing explicit blowjob scenes for my most recent stories, and why there's been an emphasis on my MMCs being gentle when it's been explored. I know that I neglect male pleasure and prioritize female pleasure in my writing; so I wanted to explain why that is.

Also, this is NOT to shame people who enjoy certain types of sex. This is simply for me to see my personal wants/boundaries normalized and represented in fic. Thank you for understanding.

[muskmelon-enjoyer-199x]

thinking about the time this young 19 y/o guy i used to work with was talking to me about a bunch of random stuff and I said something about how he shouldnt worry about something this girl said on a dating app because he was just overthinking it and snowballing over nothing.

He paused a minute and said, "I guess you probably have more experience with women than me, huh?" I thought a second, but it was true. I'm not some kind of relationship guru and I fuck up a lot, but I do know more about dating and maintaining a relationship than a 19 y/o wannabe bodybuilder that watches Andrew Tate and has terminal virgin energy.

I said "I guess so, yeah'" and he visibly deflated. Like it was such a blow to his ego. I think maybe he was tethering his sense of masculinity to some weird sexual marketplace virility bullshit and felt emasculated?

im like a weird limp-wristed lesbian with a flamerboy 2003 fashion designer voice. I wear mens and womens clothes as I feel and often just have frizzy hair idgaf about because i'm not a public-facing employee most of the time anyways. if you spend more than a few hours around me it's probably pretty easy to see im a tranny no matter how hard i deny it and im honestly just kinda goofy and do silly shit for my own amusement. normies seem to like me alright and say im fun to be around but also think im a weirdo and I guess that's okay because I have some friends and a wife and I don't need external validation like that (or at least not desperately lmao).

but he seemed genuinely hurt and threatened by the possibility that I've been more successful with women than him and that just feels so weird to me. like why do you feel bad? It's not a competition and even if it was the women you like wouldnt like me and the women that like me wouldnt like you? Maybe stop talking about right wing bodybuilders and acting macho at work because those girls you like think you're an annoying closet case?

[d1stalker]

Suspension Bridge Effect [Logan Howlett]

Summary: You saved one of the younger mutants during a mission, and now he's obsessed with you, much to Logan's dismay

Warnings: mainly Logan POV, jealousy, cuteness, fem!reader WC: 2.6k - MASTERLIST

----

Logan’s losing it; his thoughts are spiralling to the point where he wonders if he should be locked up.

At least, that’s what he thinks is happening as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. You’re standing near the edge of the mansion's garden, laughing softly as the kid—Johnny, a younger teenage mutant—tries to hand you a bouquet of hastily picked flowers. His face is flushed, eyes wide with admiration, and he’s practically vibrating with nervous energy as he looks up at you.

This punk, this moron, this lovesick blockhead, has been glued to your side ever since you saved him during the last mission.

It was supposed to be a standard run-of-the-mill rescue operation, but when things went south, and he was cornered, you swooped in like the hero you are and got him out unscathed. Now, the kid��s been following you around like a lost puppy, trying to win your attention, your approval—your everything. And it’s infuriating.

Logan can feel his hands clench into fists as he watches Johnny offer you the worst attempt at a bouquet he's ever seen, and sees the youngster's face turning a deeper shade of red as he mumbles something the older man can’t quite hear. Probably some dumb compliment, he thinks bitterly. The kid’s got no game.

You smile at Johnny. It's that soft, kind smile that always makes Logan’s heart skip a beat. But this time, all it does is fuel the fire raging within. He knows that smile isn’t just for him, but damn it, he wishes it were.

He wishes you’d tell the kid to scram, that you’re already spoken for, that you have a lovely boyfriend who could put together a way better bunch of flowers, but instead, you take the flowers with a gentle laugh, thanking the goblin like he’s just handed you a priceless treasure.

And somehow, the torment is never ending, it seems. Because later in the day he find’s himself lurking at the doorway of the mansion library, watching as you and Johnny sit together, heads bent over some book he know knows the little gremlin is just pretending to be interested in. That brat is soaking up every second of your attention, hanging on your every word, and it’s driving Logan up the wall.

“He’s just a kid,” you keep saying whenever he grumbles about it, but you don’t see it. You don’t see the way the bastard’s eyes light up whenever you smile at him, or how he leans in just a little too close when you’re explaining something to him. You don’t notice the small touches—the way his hand lingers on your arm when he’s pulling you somewhere, the way he looks at you like you’re the centre of his universe.

Logan sees it all, because he’s been there before. He knows exactly what Johnny’s feeling because he felt the same way when he first met you. Still does. It's that intense, all-consuming crush that makes you do stupid things just to be near the person you can’t stop thinking about.

“Logan, you’re staring,” Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts, and he turns to see her smirking at him from across the hallway.

“I’m not starin’. Just keepin’ an eye on things,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

She raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’re jealous.”

He scowls at her. “I ain’t jealous of some kid.”

“Sure you’re not,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Why don’t you just talk to her about it?”

Clenching his jaw, he knows she’s right but not wanting to admit it. “She doesn’t get it. She thinks it’s cute.”

“Maybe if you told her how you’re feeling, she’d understand,” Jean suggests gently, though there’s a knowing look in her eyes.

Huffing and turning away from the library, Logan has decided that he’s had enough of standing on the sidelines. He needs to do something before he loses his mind entirely. But it seems he can’t escape this torture, because he can’t even get five minutes alone with you.

He tried to get your attention after you finished up teaching your class, but before he could, the little devil ran in front of him and got it first. His eye twitches as he watches Johnny offer you another “gift,” this time a poorly folded paper crane. You take it with a smile, thanking him kindly, and Logan grits his teeth so hard he swears his molars might shatter.

“Hey, kid,” He grumbles, stepping forward with a growl in his throat that would send most people running. “Don’t you got somewhere else to be?”

Johnny looks up, momentarily startled by the sharp tone, but then just gives a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. “Uh, no, sir. I was just, um, hanging out with her.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got things to do. Don’t you, darlin’?” Logan’s eyes flicker to you, hoping you’ll catch the hint and send the kid on his way.

But you don’t. You just laugh. A musical sound that makes him want to clamp his hand over your mouth because why should that devil's spawn get to hear your beautiful voice? He’s truly about to lose it. 

“It’s fine, babe. Johnny’s just being sweet.”

Sweet. Logan wants to snort. Sweet is one word for it. Obnoxious, irritating, and clingy are a few others that come to mind.

“You got a crush or somethin’, boy?” His tone is laced with a dangerous edge as he crosses his arms over his chest, towering over the knucklehead. He’s trying not to outright scare him, but damn, he’s close to it.

Johnny turns beet red, stammering, “N-no, I just… she saved me, and I just wanted to say thank you, that’s all!”

Narrowing his eyes, a low snarl rumbles from his chest, and Logan takes a deliberate step forward, but before he can do more, you place a hand on his arm, pulling him back.

“Logan, that’s enough,” you say firmly, giving him a pointed look. 

Well, there goes another piece of his sanity.

You’re too kind, too understanding. You just don't get it. To you, it’s just an innocent crush, something harmless, something that makes you smile. You think it’s nothing, and that only makes his blood boil more.

“Fine,” he finally mutters, stepping back, though his eyes never leave the teenager’s. Johnny seems to take that as some kind of begrudging acceptance and gives you another shy smile before scurrying off, likely to find the next token of his gratitude to bring to you.

Once he’s gone, Logan lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is drivin’ me nuts, you know that?”

You just chuckle again, stepping closer to him and slipping your arms around his waist. “It’s just a phase, I’m sure. He’ll get over it.”

Wrapping his arms around you tightly and pulling you in close, he feels a little bit better in your embrace, but his eyes still track where Johnny disappeared into the mansion. “He better. ’Cause if he doesn’t, I might lose my damn mind.”

You tilt your head up, kissing his jaw softly. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

He huffs, not wanting to admit it, but the truth is written all over his face. “Maybe a little.”

Smiling, you lean up to kiss him properly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Logan kisses you back, a little more possessively than usual, as if to remind himself that you’re his. And even as you melt into him, he can’t help but keep one eye open, scanning the garden for any sign of that kid returning. He might be crazy, but he’ll be damned if he lets some lovestruck teenager get between him and the woman he loves.

—

The next morning, the mansion is buzzing with its usual activity. You and Logan head to the dining hall for breakfast, with him looking a little more relaxed after a night of holding you close. But the moment you step into the room, he spots a certain demon sitting at a table, eyes locked on you as if he’s been waiting for this very moment.

Groaning under his breath, Logan mutters, “Not again,” before guiding you to a table near the windows, hoping Johnny won’t follow.

You take your seat, smiling up at your boyfriend as he pulls out his chair, and for a brief second, he dares to believe that he might actually get to enjoy a quiet breakfast with you. But just as he’s about to sit down beside you, Johnny swoops in out of nowhere, plopping down in Logan’s seat with a grin like he’s just won the lottery.

“Morning!” He chirps, completely oblivious to the thunderous look on the other man’s face.

Freezing in his place, Logan glares at the kid who’s now sitting where he was supposed to be. He mentally cycles through a list of unflattering nicknames—Useless Idiot, Captain Obnoxious, Motherfu—but none of them seem quite strong enough to capture his current feelings. “You’re in my seat, kid.”

Johnny blinks up at him, feigning innocence. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t see your name on it.”

You can practically see the self-control it takes for Logan not to pick the kid up and toss him across the room. His fingers twitch at his sides, his claws itching to come out, but he holds back. For your sake, and only your sake.

“Johnny,” you start, trying to keep your voice gentle but firm, “you do know he is my boyfriend, right? And even if he wasn’t, I’m a bit too, uh, old for you?”

The young mutant's eyes widen, and for a split second, you think you might have gotten through to him. But then he glances over at Logan, his face scrunching up like he’s just eaten something sour.

“Yeah, but he’s, like, hella old,” The idiot blurts out, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if the mutant standing right there can’t hear every word.

Logan’s expression darkens, a storm brewing in his eyes as his jaw tightens to the point where you can almost hear his teeth grinding. Hella old? Is this guy serious?

He's dealt with all kinds of enemies—mutants, monsters, government assassins—but nothing, nothing has tested his patience like this hellspawn has been. “What did you just say?” he growls menacingly.

Johnny, either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, doesn’t back down. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve got a lot of… uh, experience, you know? And you’re like centuries old. Maybe she needs someone closer to her age.”

That’s the last straw. Logan’s eyes flash with anger and something else—something more vulnerable that you rarely see. A part of him knows the gremlin’s just talking out of his ass, but the words hit a little too close to home, stirring up old insecurities he usually keeps buried deep.

Without another word, he slams his hand down onto the table, the sound echoing through the dining hall like a gunshot. The room falls into stunned silence as he then storms out, his footsteps heavy and his anger radiating off of him in waves. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t acknowledge the whispers that follow in his wake. He just needs to get away before he does something he’ll regret.

“Logan, wait—” you call after him, but he’s already halfway out the door.

You turn back to Johnny, who’s now looking a little less confident and a lot more like he might have made a mistake. Sighing, you lean forward with a serious expression. “You can’t just say things like that. He’s not just my boyfriend. He’s the person I love.”

Looking down at the table, his face falls, and he begins fiddling with the napkin in his lap. “I didn’t mean to make him mad. I just thought—You saved me and I felt something…I thought maybe you’d feel something for me too.”

You soften, reaching out to pat his hand. “Johnny, you’re a sweet kid, but you’ve got to understand that Logan’s the one I’m with, and no one can replace him.”

He nods slowly, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. “I get it,” he mumbles. “I just…”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’ll find someone your own age who’s perfect for you. But for now, you need to give us some space, okay?”

Johnny nods again, this time more resolutely. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just… try not to instigate anything else. I’ll go talk to him.” You give him one last reassuring smile before heading toward the exit.

When you step out into the hallway, you barely have a second to process your thoughts and decide where to look before you’re suddenly pressed up against the wall. A gasp escapes your lips, but it’s quickly swallowed by Logan’s mouth on yours. The surprise melts away as the intensity of his kiss overtakes your senses, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

His kiss is possessive and fierce. You can feel the frustration, the jealousy, the need to claim what’s his, pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against yours. For a moment, you lose yourself in the heat of it, letting the world around you fade as you focus solely on him.

Then, through the haze of the kiss, the practical part of your brain kicks in. You pull back just enough to murmur against his lips, “Logan… we’re gonna get caught.”

He growls softly, his lips trailing down to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “Let them see,” he mutters between kisses. “Maybe then that damn dunce will get the hint.”

You laugh, though the sound is cut off as he captures your lips again, his hands gripping your waist as if he’s afraid to let go. “Babe, really,” you whisper, trying to sound serious but failing as your body responds eagerly to his touch. “People are gonna see…”

“I don’t care,” he grumbles, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you involuntarily shiver against him. “Shoulda thrown that little shit out on his ass… let him know who you belong to.”

“You’re jealous of a teenager,” you tease, though the words come out breathless and almost lost in the intensity of the moment.

Logan pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark. “Don’t like him sniffin’ around you, thinkin’ he’s got a shot.”

You smile up at him, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him back down for another kiss. “You don't need to feel threatened by him. You’re the only one I want.”

He huffs softly, his lips brushing against yours as he mutters, “Damn right I am.”

“C’mon,” you murmur, gently pushing against his chest. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, huh?”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering back toward the dining hall, as if half-expecting Johnny to come barreling out any second. But then he nods, taking your hand and leading you down the hallway, away from prying eyes. His grip on your hand is tight, territorial, and you can’t help but smile as you follow him.

As you walk together, you give his hand a squeeze. “Logan?”

“Yeah?” He glances over at you, his expression softening slightly.

“I love you, you know that?” You say it with that pretty grin of yours, and the way his eyes warm in response makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice quieter now, more sincere. “I love you too.”

The remaining tension melts away, leaving just the two of you walking hand in hand, ready to steal a few more precious moments together.

----

A/N: this was really fun to write!

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 2

Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)

WC: 3.6K

Warnings: mentions of sex/sexual insinuations, and curse words

Part 1 | Masterlist | Part 3

She didn’t know how, but Y/N had eventually managed to fall asleep in that freezing cold room. It actually didn’t even feel that cold anymore when she woke up in the morning. Nevertheless, she tugged the blanket up higher and buried her head further into the pillow. That’s when she noticed it –  the heavy weight that was tightly gripping her waist, and the source of warmth against her. How had this happened? She was not even five centimetres away from the edge of the bed.

That little fucker.

Poor Lando wasn’t even properly awake when he was basically flung across the bed. He blinked groggily, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He looked up at her in confusion. “What the hell?” he grumbled, still trying to shake off the sleepiness.

Y/N, fuming, sat up and glared at him. “You were practically spooning me, Lando! What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Lando, rubbing his eyes, mumbled defensively, “I didn’t mean to! I must have just… rolled over in my sleep.”

She narrowed his eyes at him, pointing a finger in his face. “I warned you about this, Lando! I told you if you would cross over to my side I’d get Max to take care of you!”

Lando, now more awake, sat up and looked at her, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “I believe there was a promise of choking involved, too?”

Y/N’s jaw was slack in shock at his boldness. “Don’t be smart!”

“Come on, you were pretty cosy with me, too—”

“Cosy with you? I was on the edge of the bed! I literally would’ve fallen off if I moved any closer to the edge,” Y/N protested.

“You didn’t seem to mind the extra warmth,” Lando shrugged.

She glared at him. “Oh, please. It’s not like I had much of a choice with you clinging to me.”

Lando shook his head at her fiery temper; it was far too early for this. “Well, it’s not like you tried to push me away. I think you’re just too scared to admit you liked it,” he said, his smirk widening.

“Are you kidding me? I was practically falling off the bed. That was not enjoyment, that was survival. If you think that’s what enjoyment looks like, you’re obviously not very good in bed,” Y/N huffed, getting out of bed to collect her stuff.

“Wow, okay. I’ll have you know I’m very skilled, I get compliments all the time.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Overcompensating much?”

Lando smiled suggestively, “If you want, you could find out for yourself.”

“Ugh, gross. Absolutely not. One night of accidental cuddling is more than enough.”

“If you change your mind, I’ll be more than happy to provide a demonstration,” Lando smirked.

“Dream on,” she concluded, stalking into the bathroom.

– – – – –

Half an hour later Lando and Y/N had joined Max and Pietra downstairs for breakfast, the intense discussion long forgotten. The soft sound of clattering plates and cutlery filled the hotel restaurant when they sat down. The group slowly ate their breakfast while they talked about possible activities for the day. After a vote, the plan was set: a morning hike, followed by an afternoon of exploring the town – especially the cute stores they spotted on their way.

And so, soon after they finished up their breakfast, they set out for their hike before it got too hot. The scenery was stunning; different types of trees and plants lined the pathway they followed, the sun shining through the leaves above them and every now and then, through the heavy bush, they could see the beautiful view of a lake nearby with tall mountains in the back. Unfortunately, the gorgeous sight was marred by Lando’s presence. Of course, he had to walk right behind Y/N, and couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.

“Careful there, don’t trip,” Lando told her as she manoeuvred over a large rock with little grip.

Y/N shot him a glare over her shoulder, mistaking the sincere concern in his voice for teasing. “I’ll take you down with me.”

Lando was surprised at the sharp response – he didn’t mean to insult or mock her. Y/N had always been witty; she always had a comeback ready for whatever Lando said, but she had never been good at noticing when Lando was genuine instead of taunting. She usually took all his comments as banter, even his attempts at flirting. Her consistent rejections made him play along; turning it into a joke instead of a true effort at pursuing his best friend’s sister. Maybe it was for the best; the dynamic worked, and Max would never allow anything more than friendship between them anyway. 

When the group reached the edge of the lake, they decided to take a break. They climbed down the rocks carefully and perched themselves on large stones scattered at the waterfront. Max searched through his backpack for the snacks Pietra had made them bring and offered everyone some. They drank water, ate something, and took a few pictures of the gorgeous view before continuing their hike.

Lando was the first to climb up the steep rocks back to the trail. He looked down while he waited for the rest, watching as Y/N struggled to find solid footing for the rather difficult climb. 

“Let me help you,” Lando offered, holding out his hand for her to take.

She glanced up at him. “I’m fine,” she said dismissively, right as her foot slipped. Before she knew it, she was reaching out for his hand, grasping it tightly while he steadied her. His grip was strong and he knelt closer to offer his other hand in case she should need it, gently pointing out where she should step next. His unwanted help annoyed her; she could do it herself, she just needed to regain her balance first. Regardless, she followed Lando’s advice, his casual yet firm guidance impossible to refuse. 

Once back on solid ground, Y/N felt a flush creep up her neck, embarrassed by her misstep and flustered by how unusually kind Lando had been. She avoided his gaze, brushing off her clothes as if that would somehow dismiss the moment. "Thanks," she muttered quickly, hoping to move on.

"No problem," Lando replied, his voice softer than usual. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart for making her uncomfortable; his only intention had been to help. As he watched her avoid his gaze, he couldn’t help but think she looked cute – adorable, even, all flustered and embarrassed. The way her cheeks flushed slightly warmed his heart. Normally, she would only show him her strong and independent side, always refusing to accept his help or express her true emotions when he was near. She didn’t want him to see her in a vulnerable state, but sometimes it couldn’t be avoided. And whenever Lando managed to catch a glimpse of that softer side, like now, all he felt was the overwhelming urge to protect her.

Lando shook his thoughts away, and continued his way, not straying from the trail this time. He walked next to Max, while Pietra followed Y/N closely, letting a distance grow between them and the boys further ahead.

“What was that?” Pietra asked her.

“What?”

“You know, Lando helping you, and then you blushing like crazy,” she clarified.

Y/N laughed nervously, “What? It was nothing!”

“Mhm, sure. You guys already seemed weird at breakfast. Did something happen last night?”

Y/N sighed, checking how far ahead the boys were. She deemed them far enough to be unable to eavesdrop. “Lando cuddled me tonight,” she admitted hesitantly.

“What?” Pietra nearly screeched.

“Yes. I don’t know how it happened. I was as close to the edge as possible, like five more centimetres and I would’ve fallen off,” she told Pietra, looking at her over her shoulder, “I even threatened that I would choke him in his sleep if he crossed to my half of the bed, but it made no difference…”

“So Lando cuddled you in his sleep, and now he helped you up the rocks? I have a feeling he’s got a crush on you, babes,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Y/N laughed, “Oh, please, P. That’s not true, he’s been bothering me for five years now.”

She merely shrugged, a knowing smile on her face. Y/N rolled her eyes – she knew better than that.

They finished the hike half an hour later, not counting the brief stop at the viewpoint. Once back at the hotel, they quickly freshened up and wasted no time heading out again, eager to explore the nearby boutiques and picturesque streets lined with quaint houses. After grabbing coffee and a pastry at a small cafe, they began exploring the local shops.

The group split up as they wandered off to different stores. Y/N found herself drifting toward a small bookstore tucked away on a quiet street. She’d forgotten to pack a book for the trip – not that it would have fit in her overstuffed suitcase anyway. She picked up several books from the English section, reading the backs one by one, trying to decide which one she should read this vacation.

“Now that seems like a good literary piece,” Lando said from behind her, startling her.

“Jesus, Lando. Why would you do that?” She said, grabbing her chest with her free hand, nearly dropping the heavy books in the other.

Lando grinned. “You’re too easy to scare,” he teased, casually leaning against one of the shelves. “What are you looking at anyway?”

Y/N handed him one of the books. “Hm, a romance novel?” He said curiously and she flushed at the implication. 

“Not just a romance novel, it—”

“Anything where the main characters kiss is automatically romance, isn’t it?”

She sighed; Lando grinned.

“Why are you here? For as far as I know, you don’t read,” Y/N told him, taking the book from his hands, weighing her options.

“Thought I’d check on you. Make sure you didn’t get lost,”

Rolling her eyes, she put all books but one back in their places. “More like make sure you had another chance to annoy me,” she huffed, grabbing another book off the shelf.

Lando watched in amusement as she flipped through a few of the pages before putting it back.

“Okay, I’m buying this one. Do you want to look at a book for yourself, or can we leave?”

“I’m good,” he responded with that annoying smug smile of his tugging at his lips.

“Alright, then.” She nodded before heading to the register and paying for the book. Lando followed her out of the store and led them to a different one where Pietra and Max were waiting. They visited more stores until they felt it was time for dinner. As they were already in the town centre, they just walked around a bit until they found a restaurant that seemed to please everyone.

Y/N sat down at the table they were directed to, hanging her bag with the book on the chair. When she looked up again she saw that Lando had already claimed the seat next to her. She shot a questioning look at Pietra, who was sitting across from her, subtly signing with her eyes, ‘What is up with him?’ Pietra’s lips quirked into a knowing smile, her eyes glinting with amusement. She gave a small shrug as if to say, ‘You tell me’.

Dinner went much smoother this time around, especially since Lando couldn’t constantly stare at her face from her side. They had enough to talk about after all they had seen and decided to discuss their plans for tomorrow ahead of time. It would be a beach day, so the timing of buying the book was perfect. 

Halfway through the meal, Y/N felt the light pressure of Lando’s arm casually resting on the back of her chair. It wasn’t touching her exactly, but it was close enough to make her aware of his presence. She froze for a second, her fork hovering in midair as her body tensed.

Lando didn’t say anything, just continued eating as if nothing had happened.

Y/N glanced across the table at Pietra, widening her eyes slightly, slightly nudging her head to Lando’s arm. Pietra took a sip of her drink, suppressing a smirk as she met Y/N’s gaze.

She looked at Lando in annoyance before shifting in her seat, leaning slightly to the other side to put more distance between them.

Lando, of course, noticed. He turned to face her straight away with a confused look.

“Get your arm off my chair,” Y/N said harshly.

Lando raised an eyebrow, his expression mockingly innocent. “What? I’m not even touching you.”

Y/N glared at him, her voice firm. “You’re close enough.”

Lando chuckled under his breath, clearly amused by her irritation. “Oh, come on. I’m just being friendly.”

“Friendly would be keeping your hands to yourself,” she shot back, trying to ignore how much his teasing actually made her pulse race.

Lando raised his hands in surrender, but his eyes gleamed with amusement. “No need to get all worked up.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the warmth creeping up her neck. “You wish I’d get worked up over you. I’d just prefer if you didn’t touch me.”

Lando shrugged. “For not wanting to touch me, you seemed to hold onto my hand pretty tightly earlier,” he teased, leaning closer while Max eyed you in surprise.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she recalled the moment he helped her up, a blush once again covering her face at the memory. “I was trying not to fall, I wasn’t touching you voluntarily.”

Lando chuckled softly, the sound annoyingly charming. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Y/N gaped at Pietra, who was still staring at her with a knowing smirk. She groaned in frustration before the conversation continued. Only a second later realising Lando still hadn’t removed his arm, she sent him another glare but didn’t bother asking him again.

The rest of the dinner passed relatively smoothly. Lando didn’t provoke Y/N much while they all chatted about tomorrow’s beach day and laughed about Max’s story of how he got stung by a jellyfish a few years back. By the end of the meal, Y/N had only needed to throw in a few comebacks and thought she kept her temper pretty well.

They paid the bill and left the restaurant, where the cool evening air greeted them. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, the lingering warmth of the meal dissipating quickly in the cool night breeze. The four of them strolled back towards the hotel, the streetlights casting shadows on the pavement.

In the elevator, Max and Pietra talked about what time they’d set out for the beach tomorrow, while Y/N leant against the wall, tired from the day’s activities, trying to ignore the fact that she and Lando would be alone again once they got back to their shared room.

When they finally reached their floor, Y/N said a quick goodbye to her brother and his girlfriend before trailing after Lando. She kicked off her shoes as soon as she entered the room and went in search of her toiletries. Once she’d gathered everything she needed, she made a beeline to the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower,” she announced, before promptly closing the door behind her. 

The clattering sound of the running water was a welcome distraction from her busy mind which, for some reason, kept replaying the moment in the forest. She could feel Lando’s calloused hand holding hers tightly every time the image reappeared in her head, the same tingling feeling emerging along with it, too. She could see the gentle look on his face, and feel her embarrassment at nearly falling on her face – it was like she was there again. The repeating memory was just as annoying as the man prominently featured in it. The man who seemed to always find a way to irritate her, even when she was alone, in the shower. 

She banished the recollection to the back of her mind and finished up her shower. She quickly dried herself off and put her underwear and top on before she reached for her shorts, only to realise they weren’t there. She sighed deeply, mumbling to herself, “Of course, I forgot my shorts. Why would anything go my way for once.” 

She groaned, running her hands over her face when another realisation came, “God, why did I only bring thongs?” 

She squealed into the towel, a loud high-pitched sound, at her own stupidity. 

”It’s all Max’s fault. If he hadn’t screwed up and gotten me my own room, everything would have been fine, but no!” She grumbled leaning her elbows on the counter, burying her face in her hands. “I’m going to kill him one of these days.”

Meanwhile, Lando had settled onto the bed, leisurely lying back, hands behind his head while he watched a random movie. Unbeknownst to Y/N, he could hear her frustrated mumbling coming from the bathroom, but he chose to remain silent until he heard her voice calling out louder.

“Lando?”

“Hm?” He responded uninterestedly.

“Could you please hand me my pyjamas? I forgot them…”

“Nah, I’m comfy. You’ll have to get them yourself.”

Y/N poked her head out the door. “Are you serious, Lando? I literally only have my underwear in here.”

Lando shrugged, not looking away from the TV, causing Y/N to sigh.

“Lando,” she warned, “if you don’t hand them to me, I swear—”

“I won’t look, promise,” he said, and she could hear the amusement in his voice.

With a deep sigh, Y/N tightened the short towel around her before she carefully stepped out of the bathroom, scanning the room to make sure Lando was keeping his word. He was lying in bed, hands behind his head, eyes lazily watching the TV playing some rerun of an old movie.

She tiptoed to the chair, where she thought her pyjamas were, but they weren’t there. Her eyes narrowed. Of course, they’d gone missing.

Muttering under her breath, she began searching through the drawers, still holding the towel tightly around her body. She bent down, checking the bottom drawer when she heard a low, barely audible curse behind her.

“Fuck,” Lando muttered, breaking the silence.

Y/N froze for a second before whirling around, catching his eyes very clearly locked on her. “What the hell, Lando! You promised you wouldn’t look!”

“Well, you said you only brought thongs. That’s not exactly encouraging me to look away.” 

“You heard that? You know what, never mind. Fuck off, Lando. Where’s your decency?”

“Non-existent,” he replied with a smirk.

“Look away, Lando.”

“I don’t see the appeal,” he said, his smirk growing.

“I swear to God, I’m going to kill you someday.”

“Have you thought yet about how? ‘Cause I’ve got a suggestion.”

She glared at him from across the room. “Do I even want to hear it?”

A playful grin spread across his face at her frustration, “Having you sit on my face seems like a pretty good way to go…”

“God, Lando. Get your head out of the gutter!” She exclaimed, mortified at his blunt response.

Y/N huffed in exasperation, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she turned her back to him, tightened the towel, and continued searching for her shorts. “You’re impossible,” she muttered under her breath, rummaging through the drawers with a little more force than necessary. Did he have no shame?

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room in growing frustration, her shorts nowhere to be found. She groaned softly, starting to doubt herself. Maybe she hadn’t packed them at all? No, that couldn’t be right, she wore them last night. They had to be around somewhere.

Lando, who had been watching her search in mild amusement, raised an eyebrow when she turned back to him with an accusing look. "You didn’t take my shorts, did you?"

He sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why do you always assume the worst of me?”

“Because the worst is usually true!” she snapped back, still glaring as if that would somehow force him to confess.

Lando chuckled. “I swear, I didn’t touch them,” he paused, a mischievous smile on his face,  “but you might want to check under the closet.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes but reluctantly looked under the closet, this time turning her back away from Lando – he had seen enough of her. Sure enough, her shorts were hidden underneath the closet, all the way to the back.

“Of course,” she muttered under her breath, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her.

Lando shot her a smug grin. “See? Sometimes the problem isn’t me – sometimes it’s you.”

She ignored his comment and grabbed the shorts, quickly making her way back to the bathroom to change. She let out a deep breath as she slipped into her pyjamas, mentally cursing herself.

Once she was dressed and ready for bed, she walked out, trying to keep her expression neutral. Lando was now walking around the room, collecting his toiletries and making a big deal of grabbing his pyjamas before disappearing into the bathroom while she settled into her side of the bed. She busied herself with her phone as she waited for Lando to come back before she turned off the light.

She pulled the blanket up high and immediately turned on her side. “Goodnight,” she mumbled, “you better stay on your side tonight.” 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Lando replied overly sweet, as if mocking her warning.

She felt Lando shift in the bed as he lay down, but it stayed at that. Maybe she would have a peaceful night tonight.

– – – – –

Part 3

@dripostsstuff @willowsnook @f1fantasys @sarx164 @watermelonslut @diorsummer @zzfhcp @spideylovin @harrysdimple05 @pattydel @mayusaatma @leonie404 @mywritersmind @weekendlusting

[viceroywrites]

deja vu - part 2

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

choose your own ending / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)

(if you would like a link to the playlist i created for this series, lmk!)

part one | part three

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii/@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby / @gxstiess / @skrunkle11 / @valinbean / @funkyenby / @therealgoofygoober69 / @theblueraven / @adrian920155 / @im-kinda-bored / @miarabanana / @uwauiss / @leo4242564 / @doggosnoodles12 / @soupieoopieisloopie / @zhungxi / @bandaids-n-porcelain / @marvelous-maniac / @opossumclown

It was a tense interaction following your question. 

Ford’s eyebrows raised in alarm and he carefully approached you, “Of course, we’ve met before, it’s me, Stanford.”

You pause, glancing between Stanley and his twin before replying hesitantly, “Sorry, the name doesn’t ring a bell. I just learned your name a few seconds ago from your brother.”

Ford’s lips narrow into a thin line, vexation written all over his face, “I know we parted ways on less than ideal terms, Y/N, but there’s no reason to pretend like you don’t recognize me.”

Your eyebrow raised at Ford’s firm stance, crossing your arms, “I’m sorry to say but I truly don’t. Maybe you have me mistaken for someone else perhaps?” You can’t help but get defensive, feeling accused that you were blowing off this complete stranger.

“Oh, I’m not mistaken. I know you very well, Y/N. I know that you got your Masters in Geology at Backupsmore. I know that ammolite is your favorite gemstone. I know that you learned hamboning from Fiddleford just to get on my nerves.” Ford counters you with facts, his own stubbornness coming through as you stare each other down.

Your eyes widen at the amount of detail Ford seems to know about you, “How do you know all these things about me? How do you know Fiddleford? Did you help him with his research out here?”

Ford sighs heavily, “I know I messed up back then and I know you must hate me but can you please drop this childish charade?” His low voice raises slightly in volume as his frustration mounts as he finally snaps at you. 

“Ford!” Stan cuts in between the two of you, catching both of you off guard, “Lay off her… I genuinely think she doesn’t… remember.” He sighs, putting the pieces together surprisingly quickly compared to his brother. He grabs his twin by the arm, pulling him off to the side, “Give us a second, we’ll be right back.” Stan says to you, giving you an apologetic stare.

You nod slowly as you decide to take a seat on the steps, watching as the sun slowly begins to set in the horizon. This new information perplexes you as you try to wrack your brain if Fiddleford had ever mentioned working with someone during his time in Gravity Falls. 

Meanwhile, the Pines twins walk off into the distance, just out of ear shot. “So who is she?” Stan questions, needing answers from his brother before he can present his finding. Ford bristles at  the question, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looks off into the distance before answering, “Remember when we were out at sea commiserating on past romances… and I told you how I had met someone during my time in college but she left after I had gotten too deep into my involvement with Bill.”

“Yeah, vaguely, I thought you were just making that up to try and relate to my stories about my ex-wives. You never were smooth with the ladies.” Stan admits with a shrug to which Ford rolls his eyes at. “Well, that’s her. The age old cliche of the one that got away.” Ford summarizes, “But she was never this petty before. I know I hurt her immensely but…”

“She’s not being petty, poindexter. Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Stan sighs, running a hand over his face in exasperation. Ford stares back blankly at him, unsure how to respond. “God, you’re supposed to be the smart one here. Remember your old friend McGucket’s invention? You know the one that can literally erase memories? The one that erased all my memories?” Stan spells it out for his brother.

It all clicks in Ford’s head, “You don’t think… Fiddleford wiped her memory, do you?” 

“Ding, ding, we got a winner!” Stan says sardonically, “Took ya long enough.”

“Why would he do that? I need to get to the bottom of this, Stanley…” Ford looks over his brother’s shoulder, staring at you. Despite the time that has passed, you look just as vibrant as he remembered you, your features highlighted in the orange glow of the sunset. 

Stan notices the longing look on his brother’s face and places a hand on his shoulder, “You know she’s supposed to head out tomorrow morning? Got a whole road trip planned ahead.”

“Well, let’s see if she’d at least be willing to stick around to talk to Fiddleford.” Ford says with steely determination as he begins to walk back towards you, Stan following at his heels.

You look up as the pair walk up to you, able to see them side by side. There were distinct differences in terms of style but they were nearly identical, only just now picking up the cleft in Stanford’s chin and their different glasses. 

Ford mulls over his choice of words. Despite being the more logical twin, Ford had to admit he was perhaps just as stubborn as his brother. “My apologies for my directness. I know you may not remember me, but please trust me when I say that we have an extensive history together. What if we were to visit Fiddleford tomorrow to perhaps quell your doubts and clarify some things?” He offers, hoping in the back of his mind that you’ll say yes.

You pause at the offer, thinking it through. You had the urge to decline, still on the defense. After all, this man pretty much accused you of acting like a child when you didn’t recognize him.

However, you did wish to see Fiddleford again, so curious about what happened to him after all these years. 

“Alright, I’ll stay another day in Gravity Falls to see Fiddleford. But I want to know a little bit more about you.” Your eyes narrow in on Ford. Stan clears his throat, very aware of the tension between the two of you. “Well, I’m gonna go take care of… the broken thing inside...” He grumbles out the last part, making an awkward escape as he walks past you up the steps before pausing at the door to address you, “Come back inside whenever you and Sixer are done talking, I’ll clear out one of the rooms so you can stay for the night.”

Before you can protest, Stan closes the screen door behind him, giving you and Ford some privacy.

“So you had some questions for me?” Ford sighs, deciding to take a seat next to you. It felt so strange to be so close to you physically after all this time yet so distant due to your loss of memories, wishing that he could pull you into a tight embrace and apologize for everything that happened in the past. 

“Well, I’m assuming if you know Fiddleford and somehow know that I got my Masters in Geology that you went to Backupsmore as well.” You start there, knowing the common thread that connects the two of you is the university you all attended, “That’s correct, not my first choice obviously.” Ford replies with a nod.

“Is it anyone’s first choice?” You comment which pulls a chuckle from Ford who shakes his head. “Very true, I know it wasn’t either of ours. Fiddleford was just elated to be the first in his family to even go.”

“So what did you major in?” You ask with a tilt of your head, “And how did you meet Fiddleford?”

“What didn’t I major in is the better question. I technically have 12 PhDs but my main focuses were Physics and Molecular Biology.”  Ford admitted with a sense of pride, your jaw almost dropping at this information. ”As for how I met Fiddleford, I had proposed a theory in class one time that immediately got shot down by my professor. But Fiddleford shared my passion for pushing boundaries of existing theories and knowledge and we spent the whole night trying to prove it had validity.” Ford said, smiling at that particular memory. 

You note the admiration in Ford’s voice as he speaks of Fiddleford, knowing that their relationship must be close. “I’m so confused… how do I not remember you if you and Fiddleford have such a close relationship?” You sigh, second guessing your own memories at this point. All this information felt like it made sense logically but it was difficult to suspend your disbelief. You hesitate to ask the question, “How... did we meet?”

Ford pauses, staring out into the forest, unable to meet your gaze as he recounts your first meeting. It seems so distant but it was a simple time before life got complicated. 

Before he made your lives complicated. 

Before he can reply, you cut him off, seeing the pained look in his eyes and realizing you may have gone too far. Whoever you were to him, something must have happened between the two of you that led to this reaction. “Actually, don’t answer that… It's getting late and I know we’ll have all of tomorrow to go over this with Fiddleford.” 

“Right… we should probably call it for the evening.” Ford lets out a sigh of relief, getting up from his spot on the steps. He offers his hand, your eyes flicking towards it and noting the six fingers that were facing towards you. Realizing what you’re staring at, he is about to withdraw his hand, an embarrassed flush to his cheeks, but you take it, your warm fingers wrapping around his palm, as you stand up. 

“Are you heading inside?” You ask, still holding into his hand. He realizes you have yet to let go and basks in the moment, fighting the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours. “I’m going to stay out here for a bit longer. I should probably fix that invention that I was working on before…” Ford admits, almost waiting for you to scold him like you would in the past.

But you don’t.

Instead, you nod in understanding, squeezing Ford’s hand one final time before letting go. “Alright, I’m gonna head inside and see where I’m sleeping for the night…” You begin to walk towards the doorway before pausing at the door. 

“Hey… I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I really hope tomorrow something sparks my memory.” You say, “Good night, Stanford.” You disappear behind the doorway, not waiting for him to respond.

Ford stares as he watches your frame retreat from behind the door, “Good night, Y/N… my dear.” The old pet name feeling heavy on his tongue but he can’t help but let it out.

-

As you stare up at the ceiling, you wonder how you even ended up in a storage room inside a tourist trap, laying on an air mattress.

Your trip - at least for the next day or so - is derailed. You’re thankful that Stan had offered to let you stay in the Mystery Shack as you were planning on sleeping in your car underneath the stars, drained from today’s turns of events and too tired to drive into town to try and find some sort of accommodation.

Yet your trip isn’t even the most pressing thing on your mind.

Who is Stanford Pines?

Your eyes shut tightly, trying to mull over the potential possibilities of how you might know this man who vehemently claims to know you. You knew you were getting older but there’s no way your memory was this shot, especially considering the fact that Ford had shared that he and Fiddleford were close friends and went to Backupsmore.

Your mind continued to draw blanks, unable to pinpoint a single memory that involved him.

Yet something about him was so familiar. Maybe that’s why a sense of deja vu had hit you the moment you met his brother and walked through the Mystery Shack.

Finally, fatigue hits you and you are able to fall asleep, slipping into a new dream.

You find yourself back at Backupsmore, walking through the quad and making your way to the library. The campus is decorated in hues of orange and yellow, autumn leaves scattered across the grass. Your boots crunching against the leaves as you weave through the bodies that mill around to and from class.

A gust of wind hits your face, wincing as the harshness against your skin as you had forgotten to bring a scarf on your trek. You finally make it to the library, opening the heavy doors to be greeted to the warmth and scent of old paperback books. 

You walk past the front desk, making your way directly to the back of the library to the stacks. You pass the mostly empty study carrels one by one, looking for someone specific.

You get to the very end of what seemed like a never ending maze and see a table tucked into the corner, surrounded by bookshelves. A broad-shouldered figure, wearing a sweater vest, sits facing away from you, their head buried in the pile of books around them. 

Your lips begin to move, calling out a name to address the person before you.

Stanford.

You wake up in a startle, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you feel a sudden pressure on your chest. Your eyes adjust to the sight in front of you, seeing a blur of pink, thinking you’re still dreaming. Rubbing your eyes vigorously, you realize there’s a pig sniffing your face in curiosity.

“God, what have I gotten myself into?” You groan out groggily, laying back in defeat as Waddles begins to lick your cheek.

-

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Ford sits awkwardly in front of an audience of his great nephew and niece who are gaping at him in awe, just having explained the whole situation to them as they questioned who’s car was parked in the front of the Mystery Shack.

Stan sips from a mug that spells ‘World’s Greatest Grunkle’ that Mabel made him, a slightly amused grin spreading across his face. The look on their faces was priceless, he thinks to himself, wishing he could take a photo of it. Though, he was in their shoes just last night, still processing that his poindexter brother actually landed someone after all those years of fearing girls and that she somehow ended up stranded on the side of the road just as he was driving back home.

He was just grateful though that his brother wasn’t around for the parts where he was clearly smooth talking to you, unaware that you were his twin’s ex-lover.

“Oh my god, Grunkle Ford, this is amazing!” Mabel exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement and mischief, “See, I’ve been trying to figure who the ideal candidate would be to match you with but I couldn’t think of anyone in Gravity Falls. Maybe you two can rekindle your romance! We just need to do what we did with Grunkle Stan and show her things to remind her of your time together!” 

“Or maybe her memories are stored where the Society of the Blind Eye held Old Man McGucket’s memories? There were a ton of Gravity Falls citizens’ names in there, I’m sure she’s somewhere in that pile.” Dipper offers as a suggestion, more invested in understanding how to restore memory loss from the Memory Gun than Mabel’s romantic plans for her uncle. 

Though he had to admit that there was a sliver of him that was rooting for his Grunkle Ford in the romance department.

“Those are excellent suggestions, kids. I’m hoping perhaps talking to Fiddleford today will be one of the first steps into getting her memory back. There is one issue though with your suggestion, Mabel.” Ford admits, slightly crestfallen, “I don’t really have anything left from our time we were together. When she left, she took all remnants of her, photos of us together, letters she wrote to me. What I do have left I’m not sure if it will be effective in bringing those memories back.”

“What is it, Grunkle Ford? Maybe we can still use it, you never know if you don’t try!” Mabel said in reassurance.

Ford hesitated, feeling Dipper, Mabel and Stan’s eyes trained on him, waiting for a response. 

Thankfully, your presence saved him in the nick of time, clearing your throat awkwardly. This catches everyone’s attention, Dipper and Mabel’s head whipping around. You stand in the entrance to the kitchen, still clad in your pajamas and your hair tousled from sleep, holding Waddles in your arms.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting, I just wanted to make sure this pig is supposed to be in here. He somehow got into my room.” You say, noticing how Waddles squirms now in your arms as he sees Mabel. You put him down and watch him scurry to Mabel who eagerly scoops him into her arms, nuzzling his pink cheek. 

“You’re all good, we were just having breakfast. Need a cup of coffee?” Stan says nonchalantly, grabbing the coffee pot that was by his elbow. You nod eagerly, walking towards him and taking the mug that he poured you. “These are me and Ford’s grandniece and nephew, by the way, since you didn’t get to meet them last night. They’re staying here for the summer.” Stan gestures to the two twins that are staring at you like you had a second head.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mabel! Sorry about Waddles, he kinda wanders around the house if I’m not awake yet.” The energetic brunette introduces herself. “No need to apologize, he was very sweet. If anything, he got me out of bed to get my day started. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say with a relaxed smile.

“I’m Dipper, nice to meet you. Grunkle Stan was just telling us how you ended up staying here.” The more relaxed male counterpart to Mabel chimed in, trying to move the conversation away from the topic discussed prior to you entering the room. Ford let out a slight sigh of relief, grateful that he was no longer in the hot seat.

“Well, your Grunkle Stan saved me from having to spend a pretty penny on a tow truck and a place to stay so I’m very grateful for that.” You chuckle, getting used to the term ‘Grunkle’.

“Sooo, Y/N, mind if I do a little Q&A with you? Since you’ll be staying here, I wanna get to know you better!” Mabel said eagerly, mentally mapping out her questions already. You blink owlishly before your eyes flick between Stan and Ford in amusement, “Fire away, Mabel. Though I hope your Grunkles didn’t put you up to this as a little payback for when I interrogated them yesterday?”

“She questioned you too?” Ford says in surprise to his brother who scratches chin mindlessly. “A little bit after finishing up the tour I gave her of the Mystery Shack. This one’s ruthless, no wonder she works for the government!” Stan taunts, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Wait, you work for the government?” Dipper asks, his eyes slightly narrowing in skepticism. You blink at his almost defensive reaction before elbowing Stan in the side who almost chokes on his coffee, “I literally asked you three questions. Don’t listen to him, I work for the National Parks, not the CIA.” 

Dipper visibly relaxes and Mabel’s eyes linger on where you elbowed Grunkle Stan, picking up on how relaxed you seemed around him compared to Grunkle Ford. In fact, you had barely acknowledged Ford this morning, standing by the counter next to Stan. Mabel decides to take matters into her own hands, playing matchmaker as she gets up from her chair. 

“Well that answers one of my questions. By the way, take a seat, Y/N! You’re our guest and I’m finished with my pancakes!” She walks over to you, pulling you by the hand as you plop onto the chair that is coincidentally right next to Ford. “Thanks Mabel..” You roll with the situation before looking over at Ford who stares at you with what seems to be pride.

“You really made it to the National Parks, huh? That was your dream since freshman year…” Ford says though immediately regrets it as you stare back at him in surprise. “Yeah.. I did. No one really knew about that.. Not even Fiddleford.” You reply, running your thumb over the print on the mug bashfully. “Well, um... I’m really happy for you. I know you must have worked hard to get there.” Ford offers, not sure how else to respond.

You smile warmly, taking a sip from your coffee, “Thanks, I appreciate it. It means a lot coming from someone with 12 PhDs.” You tease at the end to which Ford’s cheeks redden in embarrassment and flattery.

Mabel hops up on the counter next to her Grunkle Stan who mutters under his breath, “Smooth move, kid.” 

You turn to look back at Mabel, “Any more questions for me?” 

Mabel taps her chin, deep in thought. Her eyes flicker over to great-uncle Ford who continues to stare at you in admiration. She snaps her fingers, putting her match-making skills to use once again, “What would you say is your type in a partner?”

“Mabel! What kinda question is that?” Dipper groans, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“Wow, we’re getting to the real hard-hitting questions.” You say in amusement, slightly caught off guard but amused. You ponder the answer yourself, wondering if the kids would understand what you mean by this.

“Well, does your generation know what a silver fox is?” You ask with a sheepish grin and a flush to your cheeks, rubbing the back of your neck.

Your answer causes a chain reaction of different responses.

Mabel squeals with an eager nod, looking over hopefully at her Grunkle Ford.

Dipper and Stan both end up spitting out their milk and coffee respectively.

Ford sits at the table, blinking in confusion.

“What’s a silver fox? Is that a new type of species?”

-

After cleaning up the mess that Stan and Dipper had made, you finally start getting ready to head out with Ford to visit your old friend. You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing your outfit before reaching to grab the hairbrush Mabel graciously lets you borrow after you realize that you had forgotten yours in the car.

Stan walks down the stairs, having changed out of his white tank-top and pajama pants into clothes more suitable for going out. He pauses at the open bathroom door, leaning against the door frame, “Hey, while you and Poindexter catch up with McGucket, I’m gonna swing into town later tonight to get you a replacement battery for your car.”

Placing the brush down, you address Stan, “You sure? I can always ask Ford if we could stop by the auto shop on the way back to pick it up.”

Stan scoffs, “Please, my brother’s smart and knows a ton about science-y stuff but he’s hopeless when it comes to cars. Besides, I know a guy, I’ll get you a discount.”

“Alright.. Just let me know how much I owe you, I’m for sure paying you back.” You say hesitantly as you make your way towards the door. Stan steps aside to let you through, “Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively.

Technically, that guy was Bud Gleeful and that discount was five-fingered but you didn’t have to know that.

“You found your way around the Mystery Shack pretty easily, by the way. Didn’t even have to show you where the bathroom was, I sometimes have a hard time finding it and I’ve lived here for over 30 years.” Stan comments. You realize that even this morning, you walked directly to the kitchen, almost like your feet knew where to go through pure muscle memory.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Ford’s deep voice calls out, walking down the hallway to approach you and Stan. 

“Yeah, as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” You say, slightly nervous to see Fiddleford again. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he didn’t even remember you just like you couldn’t remember Ford?

Ford could see the furrow in your brow, a sign he had picked up through the years you had been together that you were overthinking. He hesitates for a second but places a hand on your arm, snapping you out of your rumination. “He’ll be elated to see you, Y/N. Though to give you a fair warning, he looks a lot different than how he did during our college days.” He says reassuringly.

You nod, smiling up at him, your nerves calmed down for now. “Thanks, Ford. I’m gonna go grab my bag and I’ll meet you outside.” You make your way back down the hallway, leaving the twins by themselves.

“Think she might already be starting to getting some of her memories back just by being here…” Stan muttered, following his brother outside. Ford’s eyebrow raises in confusion, “What makes you say that, Stanley?”

“She knows how to get around the house without even thinking about it. I know I gave her a tour but that was just the showroom and the gift shop.” Stan shares his observation, holding the door open for Ford as they step out into the front yard where Stan’s car is parked.

“Fascinating… maybe her memories may come back more organically than we had thought.” Ford muses before placing his hand out, “The keys, Stanley?”

Stan sighs, rummaging through his jacket before placing his keys in his brother’s hand, “You know I could have just driven you two up to the mansion but someone insisted I give you two alone time to bond.”

Ford squeezes the keys in his hand before smiling at his brother, “I should probably say thank you to Mabel then… and thanks Stanley for bringing her here.”

Stan punches his twin in the arm affectionately, “Whatever, I just better not see a scratch on El Diablo when you two get back.” Ford winces but grins, rubbing the spot on his arm.

Right on cue, you close the creaky door behind you, bag slung over your shoulder as you walk over to the pair, “Alright, I’m ready to go! Sorry, Mabel stopped me on the way out to ask my opinion on what sweater she should wear to the roller rink. Apparently, none of you guys have the taste to give her a valid opinion.” You chuckle.

“Roller rink? I swear these kids turn thirteen and think they can just go around without telling their Grunkle where they’re going.” Stan sighs in exasperation, calling out Mabel’s name as he walks back inside. You follow Ford to the car, sliding into the passenger side. “Sorry if my driving is a bit rusty, Stanley’s usually the one that drives us around when we’re in Oregon for the summer.” Ford apologizes in advance, pulling out of Mystery Shack and onto the open road.

“I mean as long we come out unscathed, I’m not complaining.” You say nonchalantly, taking in the sight of the massive trees that tower over the two way road in front of you. 

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, neither one of you knowing how to spark conversation. There lingered an unspoken heaviness, mostly due in part the intensity of your exchange the previous night. Ford desperately wanted to talk to you and yet he was drawing a blank on what to even talk about. 

As you make your way up the winding hills, Ford finally speaks up, deciding to ask you more about your work, “So you work for the National Parks? Are you a research scientist or did you go the natural resource conservation route?” He asks, remembering how you were torn between pursuing further research or honing in on your love of preserving nature.

“You’re pretty well-informed about the geoscience field. I just tell most people I look at rocks all day.” You admit, toying with the necklace that you had tucked into your shirt, “I started off in research but I realized that most of my time was spent in labs and studying specimens rather than actually out in the field. I love the parks so much, I was itching to get back out there so I switched to conservation.” 

“Makes sense, just studying concepts and theories in a controlled environment isn’t nearly as fun as getting hands-on experience.” Ford chuckles. His eyes flick over to see your fingers rolling around the vibrant orange gemstone attached to your necklace, almost choking on his spit. Your eyes meet his and your eyebrow raises as Ford’s expression is like he’s seen a ghost.

“You okay? Do I have something on my face?” You question, pulling down the sun visor to check your appearance in the mirror. Ford shakes his head vigorously, clearing his throat, “No… I… do you remember where you got that necklace?”

You pause at his query, putting the sun visor back into its original position and glancing down at the sunstone that dangles from the simple gold chain. “Oh this? I honestly don’t remember, I’ve had it for quite some time. Why do you ask?”

Ford takes a deep breath before looking back onto the road, “I… well… gave it to you. We drove up here from Backupsmore to start my grant research. Along the way, we stopped near one of the parks and you found that piece of sunstone. You carried it around everywhere so one night, I took the time to fashion it into a necklace so you’d never lose it.” 

There’s a pause before you speak. That pause felt like eternity to Ford.

“You know…I think you were in my dream last night...” You say, staring at the necklace with a newfound understanding. “I was back at Backupsmore and walking to the library. I ended up walking up to someone with their head buried in the books and I called out your name but I woke up after that.”

Ford was not expecting that response, looking over at you in alarm, “This may be a stretch but was there indication in your dream that it was fall?” You nod slowly.

“That was the first time we met. You were struggling with the section on seismic refractions in a physics course that I had taken a semester prior. Our professor recommended me as a tutor.” Ford recounts, his fingers gripping the wheel slightly tighter.

“Jeez… could all my dreams… just be memories?” You mutter to yourself but loud enough for Ford to hear it. “You’ve had other dreams….?” Ford questioned, his mind reeling with this discovery. “Yeah, I’ve had them for years. There’s always someone else in them… but before I can figure out or discern who it might be, my body wakes up.” You admit, rifling through your bag before pulling out a small leather bound journal.

“This is a bit embarrassing to admit but I’ve been keeping track of them here.” You say hesitantly as you hold up the leather bound journal. Ford stared between you and the journal in awe. He had always found preparation attractive and he thinks he may have fallen in love with you all over again.

“Perhaps we can go through some of them and see if it correlates to any memories I have.” Ford attempts to say with a steady voice but there’s a hint of excitement in his proposition. “I honestly would love that… I feel like I’ve been trying to crack the code of these dreams without any key.” You reply eagerly.

Ford makes the final turn up the hill, approaching the massive gates to what was formerly the Northwest Manor. Your eyes widen, staring at the impressive estate before you. You watch as Ford presses on the intercom, “Fiddleford, we’re here.” before the gates open to let you in.

“This.. is where Fiddleford lives? Did he make a breakthrough with his personal computers or something?” You question to which Ford chuckles nervously. “You could say that. Honestly, it’s quite a long story that we can talk about inside.” After parking the car in front of the fountain, Ford gets out of the car before opening the door for you.

You two make your way to the wooden front door, which bursts open soon after Ford raps his knuckles against it. You’re greeted by your friend, who looks considerably older despite being the same age as you and Stanford that you almost didn’t recognize him. Fiddleford embraces Ford first before stepping back to assess you. You gulp, anxiety filling up your system once again.

You’re quickly enveloped into a tight hug by Fiddleford, which you return. “My god, Fiddleford, it’s been too long. I thought you disappeared off the face of the Earth.” You said shakily. You two pull apart as Fiddleford grasps your arms, “Sweet sarsaparilla, look at you, Y/N! You make me and Ford look like old geezers! I’m real sorry I hadn’t reached out until now…”

“There’s no need to apologize, Fiddleford… I’m just glad we reconnected.” You say, a wave of nostalgia hitting you. “Come on in, you two! We got a lot of catching up to do!” Fiddleford says, ushering you into the massive home with his arm before closing the door.

[luvyeni]

❛TAMING THE PILLOW PRINCESS❜ ( n. jaemin )

p. boyfriend!na jaemin x fem!reader w. 1.8k+

warnings? oral ( m. receiving ), uprotected sex, sorta mean dom jaemin (he's such a softie it's hard), a little degradation, breeding kink (?)

— 𖦹 ( you used be such a good girl for him, but thats okay jaemin will fix it ) !

“Come home.” You spoke through the phone. “baby im with the guys I told you I wanted to hang out with them for a while.” Jaemin said, but you could care less. “i don’t care, I want you home now.”

“Ba— come home or you’ll sleep on the couch for a week." Before he could speak up you said something else. “and no sex!” you hung up in his face— he sighed, putting his phone away, he friends already looking at him, your voice was loud enough for them to hear the entire thing. “don’t say anything.” He rubbed his temples.

“jaemin, man I love you and I don’t know how to say this but.” Jeno said. “your girlfriend is a bitch.” Haechan finished. “haechan.” Renjun said, jaemin shook his head, ready to defend you. “she’s just really needy you know?” he said. “she needs attention, it’s okay I don’t mind.”

“she’s also rude as hell, constantly nagging and yelling at you over stupid shit, spending all your money, i could go on.” Haechan said, jaemin sighed. Jaemin loved you, he did — but even he had to admit his friend was right, you were a nightmare dressed in pink.

“does she even you know?” jeno trailed off. “you know give it up?” he said. “sex? of course we have sex.” He said. “does she go down on you?” renjun asked, jaemin tried to remember the last time you did, cringing. “she really isn’t  that good at it, but id rather give than receive.”

“and you go down on her?” jeno said. “I do most of the work, so what?” jaemin said. “that’s your problem, you’ve created a pillow princess with a bratty attitude, and now you don’t know how to handle her anymore.” Jeno said. “I know how to handle my girlfriend.” He said, feeling a bit defensive now that it was finally laid out for him. “do you really?”

That sentence stayed with him all the way home — your attitude was getting worse day by day, and he stayed passive, letting you do what you want,  as long as you were happy, even though it made him miserable— he wasn’t getting sad, he was getting pissed, speeding on the gas all the way home.

You scoffed looking at the time, he was 2 hours late. “im gonna kill him.” you got up out of bed, only in your underwear and a flimsy tank top , making your way into the kitchen to get a drink, opening the fridge — your eyes sat on the last can of jaemins beer, you smirked grabbing the can, opening taking a sip. “serves him right.” You didn’t even like beer, you just wanted to piss him off , knowing he wouldn’t do anything but smile and tell you it would be okay.

Leaving the can on the counter, knowing it will piss him off as well, turning to go back in the room, when the front door open, your boyfriend walked in. you rolled your eyes, he looked at you,  then over by the counter, noticing the beer. “that was my last one.

“So?” you shrugged walking back to the room, the cats following behind you. “why didn’t you throw away the can?” you ignored him, he followed behind you. “you know I hate when you leave the cans on the counter.”

“well go pick it up and throw it away.” You picked up a pillow, throwing at his chest. “you go sleep on the couch while you’re at it.” He looked down at the pillow then back at you, anger boiling up inside him. “go.” You said turning on your side, no longer facing him.

“im not staying on the couch.” He said you scoffed. “well you aren’t staying in here, so sleep in the hall for all i care.” jaemin saw red, and before he could even notice it was like his arms and legs were moving for him — and he was sitting on the bed, you shot up ready to yell.  “I said get the fuc—” he your words were cut short by jaemins hand wrapping around your throat.

“Listen here.” He said, his eyes dark, not like how you’re used to. “i've had it up to here with your bitchy attitude.” He seethed. “letting you walk all over me, you don’t have to do shit, i let you sit here in the apartment i pay for all day and do nothing, while i go out and work my ass off so you can spend my money on your unnecessary shit and how do you repay me?” he squeezed. “by being a bitch.”

You couldn’t say anything, not because you couldn’t due to him choking you, but because you were speechless, he never spoke to you like that — so mean and with hatred in his eyes — it was kind of turning you on. “jae— did i say you could speak?” he said. “that’s your problem, you don’t listen.”

“i've been spoiling you too much, letting you get away with everything.” He kissed his teeth. “that shit stops today.” Before you could say anything he was tossing you over his lap. “i want you to count.” He whispered in your ear. “wh-ouch!” you yelped upon feeling his hand come down on your ass. “fuck that hurts.” You cursed. “good, it’s supposed to.” another slapped made you jolt. “now count.”

“jae– shit!” you cursed as he didn’t let you get your words out, slapping your ass. “one!” you shouted. “good again “ he repeated. “tw-two.” He kept repeating his abuse on your ass, tears wielding in your eyes as you counted all the way until his desired number.

“Good.” He rubbed your sore cheeks. “you actually listened for once.” He grabbed your hair — yanking your hair back roughly, looking you in the eyes “get down on your knees.”

You sat in between his legs, your knees digging into the rug sure to leave them red — your face close to his hard on. “im always going down in you, bout time you give me something in return.” He unbuckled his pants, pushing them down to his ankles. “gonna suck me off real good.” He pulled his cock from his underwear, stroking himself off, his cock dripping with pre-cum from his tip on to your pouty lips.

You hadn’t done this in a while, jaemin always doted on you, so you probably only did it a few times in the early stages of your relationship after a while he just ended up saying it was fine. “go on.” he held the base of his cock tapping it on your lips. “put it in your mouth.”

You slowly sunk down on his cock, he groaned out throwing his head back, his hand resting on the bed, the other in your head. “you’re still just as bad.” Your eyes widening, as he pushed your head all the way down. “it’s like you’re not even trying.” The more he talked to you like that the more turned on you became, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your cunt. “have to do everything.”

He used your hair, guiding you up and down his shaft. “there you go, slowly.” he cursed under his breath. “use your tongue.” he hissed. “i said your tongue, not your teeth — are you dumb baby?” you moaned around his cock. “of course you like being degraded -fuck- i guess i assumed you liked being treated like a princess.”

He pulled you off him, slapping his cock against your lips. “that’s enough — want you now.” you went to lay down like you normally did but he stopped you. “no, it’s not about you tonight.” he laid back against the headboard. “tonight i want you to ride me, i want you to work for it.”

You’ve never ridden anyone, all of them doing the work for you. “i-i.” he picked you, making you straddle his lap. “i'll jerk off right now in front of you and you won’t get anything, if you want to cum, you ride me.” You were desperate to cum, biting your lip — grabbing the base of his cock, hovering above you. “sit.”

He pushed you down, his cock filling you up, you moaned out, holding yourself up by his chest. “jae-jaemin.” you moaned. “now move.” he commanded, you rocked your hips sloppily. “do it right.” He slapped your ass. “i-i c-cant.” you sobbed. “try.” He said deciding to help you just a bit, grabbed your hips rocking you back and forth. “fu-fuck just like that.” He let your waist go, leaving you on your own again.

It just wasn’t enough, you needed him. “jaemin.” You whined. “i-i need you.” He smirked. “yeah.” His hips bucking up. “why should i help you when -fuck- when all you’ve been is a bitch to me?” he grunted, slowly loosing his mind, wanting nothing more than to flip you over and fuck you like he’s used to. “why should i help you.”

“i-im so-sorry.” You stuttered. “i'll be good, i promise.” You sounded so pretty, begging like that. “you will?” he grunted. “no more being mean, and rude?” you nodded, promising him through tears. “i-i promise.”

He flipped you over,  pushing his cock deep into your cunt. “shit!” you screamed as he plowed into you, wrapping your leg around his waist. “shit that’s it.” he moaned. “be a good girl and take my cock.” You grabbed his bicep, eyes rolling to back of your head.

“that’s all you needed, to be fucked back into submission right?” he said grabbing your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “you’re gonna be my good girl again if i let you cum.” You nodded dumbly. “words.” he said, thrusting deeply inside you,  hitting that gummy spot. “ye-yes i promise.” You felt it coming all you was his word.

“cum.”

Your mouth dropped out, eyes rolling to back of your head as you came with a loud gasp of jaemins name, your head feeling deeper into a subspace as he fucked you through your orgasm. “pretty girl -fuck- gonna cum inside your pretty cunt okay?” you nodded. “pl-please cum inside me.”

His thrust began to falter as he came, his cum pouring into your cunt. “good girl.” He looked at your fucked out face. “there’s my good girl.”

He pulled out of your cunt, watching his cum leaking out of you, laying next to you, caressing the side of your face . “im sorry.” You pouted. “for being such a bitch.”

“it’s okay princess, i still love you and I still want to take care of my precious baby.” He kissed your temple. “just be nicer to me baby.” He said. “as long as you don’t make me ride you anymore.” He laughed. “I don’t ever want to do that again.” He nodded. “I won’t baby.”

“you’ll always be my pretty pillow princess.”

©️LUVYENI

[starry-hughes]

blurring the lines

matt rempe x reader

navigation

summary: after meeting matt in a bar and hooking up, the one night stand turns into something much more.

warnings: heavy allusions to sex, underage drinking, drinking, hangover, slight angst (it lasts like two seconds), mentions throwing up once, matt is a cocky bitch for a little, creepy guy mention

The vodka redbull in your hand wasn’t strong enough. Maybe it was because the bartender secretly knew your ID was fake. Or maybe it was your friend, Wendy, hanging off the neck of a random guy in the bar like always. You were always happy to support her in the search of a nightly hook up but sometimes you wish you were her, the one chosen by the guys in the bar.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

Matt Rempe filled the space next to you at the bar. He wasn’t twenty one yet but his status in New York City with the Rangers was all he needed for the bartender to hand him a beer. “Tons of fun,” you mumbled taking another sip of your drink.

“I’m Matt.”

You almost scoffed. You were a longtime resident of NYC. You knew who he was the second you saw him and his fading black eye. “Matt Rempe. Yeah, I know. 6’7 right?” Your roommates loved the Rangers games so you had been subjected to watch the whole season. Matt smirked. “Usually the height alone gets people flaunting.”

An audible scoff left your mouth that time. “Oh am I not living up to what your ego needs?” Matt’s jaw locked. He was falling for you more each second. “Lovely meeting you Matt,” you finished your drink, “have a good night.”

The guy Wendy was hanging off of followed the two of you to the next bar. Typically, that meant the guy would go home with her. Another drink in and the buzz was good enough for you, you tried staying pretty sober when Wendy was drinking and flirting with unfamiliar guys. “I’m going to the bathroom,” you told her. She nodded before going back to kissing her new companion.

The line for the bathroom was long. The typical line of drunk girls, vape smoke filling the air, guys trying to shoot their shots when girls were just trying to pee. When you finally got out of the line, your hands felt sticky from the cheap soap and you went to make your way back to the bar.

It was crowded. You were bumping into multiple bodies, fighting your way up to the bar. You lost sight of Wendy, probably still in the darkened corner of the bar with the guy she was dragging along. “You here alone?” The guy’s voice made the hair on your neck stand. Slurring his words and trying to reach out to get a hand on you. “You better back off,” you started, getting defensive, ready to throw a punch. “Calm down Rocky,” a voice mumbled from behind you, Matt Rempe’s tall body was soon separating you and the random dude. “You should leave her alone dude,” Matt said over his shoulder to the guy.

“Are you following me?” you accused. “We’re both at the most crowded bar on this street, I was not following you. Are you okay?” Matt asked. Your eyes softened for a second. “Oh, yeah, nothing out of the normal I guess.” He frowned. “I hate that for you.” Matt was growing on you by the second.

You hated admitting that you didn’t want the night to end. “I don’t need you to protect me anymore,” you teased Matt. He leaned on the bar, looking at you, face inches away, “Then tell me to walk away.” Your eyes flickered down to his lips.

It felt exciting but scary as you dragged Matt behind you by the hand. Once you found Wendy, you quickly told her you were leaving for the night and wanted to make sure she got home. The Uber ride was weird, Wendy and the guy she was bringing home making out while Matt and you softly bumped knees the whole drive.

“Sorry it’s a mess,” he was a little red in the face from embarrassment. It was typical for him, it wasn’t even that messy. “It’s okay,” you swallowed. The nerves were setting in. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he stuttered. “Shut up and kiss me Matt.”

You were shivering. You didn’t know if it was from the fact that Matt kept his room freezing cold or because he just had you shaking beneath him. The sound of his headboard hitting the wall was still echoing in your ears. “Do you want to take a shower?” Matt asked, kissing your bare shoulder. “I don’t have any clothes.” “Just borrow mine?”

The shower was hot and warm. Matt had given you a pair of boxers for a shirt and a sweater. You were drowning in his clothes. “Hope the boxers are okay,” he said nervously after you exited the bathroom. The sweater he gave you was pretty big on you, the boxers had to be rolled up a couple of times. He was wearing sweats that hung off his hips a little. “It’s good.” “I can sleep on the couch if you want me to,” he said. “No, I’m okay with sharing the bed.” Within minutes, the two of you were knocked out and asleep.

In the morning, you forgot where you were for a second. Your eyes fluttering open. This definitely was not your bedroom. Then you saw Matt and the memories came flooding back. His alarm was going off. He woke up, scrambling for his phone. “Sorry,” he mumbled into his pillow, “got practice in two hours.”

Silently, you got dressed in the clothes from the night before. Matt watched from his pillow as you got dressed, he just wanted to remember every curve of your body. “Hey Matt,” you cleared your throat, “this is really out of the ordinary for me. I don’t normally just have one night stands.” His face showed relief. “I don’t either. To be honest, this was my first one.” The two of you laughed at the situation. “I would love to see you again. Don’t be a stranger,” he kissed you softly as he walked you to the door and placed you into an uber. Your phone felt a little heavier with his number in it.

The one night stand turned into multiple nights. Most of them ending in the two of you talking and getting to know each other as Matt performed after care. It was weird, but a good weird. Friends with benefits. “Why don’t we ever go to your place?” Matt hummed. “My roommates.”

The next night you brought Matt to your place. Your roommates had told you they’d be gone for the night. You didn’t bother holding back noises and Matt didn’t either. By the morning, your roommates were awake and leaned over cups of coffee in the kitchen, all tired from hearing the noises from your room for hours after they arrived home. “Bye Matt,” you squeaked as you walked him to the door and he awkwardly avoided eye contact with your roommates. “I’m sorry. Was that Matt Rempe?” The jaw of your roommate fell open.

The friends with benefits relationship took a turn when Matt invited you over for dinner. “I don’t really know how to cook?” he admitted. “You invited me for dinner and don’t know how to cook?” “I didn’t think I’d get this far!” His laugh filled the kitchen and your heart skipped a beat. His head leaned down, “I think I really like you.” His lips met yours and you didn’t hesitate to kiss back.

It was a routine. Waking up in bed with Matt, his alarm going off for practice, having what you were 99.9% sure were dates. When he was traveling, you would use your spare key to his place to water his plants. Plus the sex was good. “I need a date,” you caught his lips with yours. He hummed, “I’m going to Toronto in a couple of days.” You already knew that. You had memorized his schedule. “My friend is having a dinner party tonight.”

“I have a game,” he whined. “I would love to come but I can’t.” You frowned. You knew he had a game but for some reason, you were hopeful he would still be able to make it. It was almost like this was the moment of clarity. Matt wasn’t your boyfriend. This wasn’t a real relationship. There weren’t labels on this. You two weren’t exclusive. He had no reason or obligation to show up to your events just because you asked. “I should get going,” you swallowed hard. His blanket was wrapped around your body as you sat up. “(Y/N). Don’t be like that.”

“I have to go Matt.” You gathered your clothes from the night before, getting dressed as Matt searched for his own sweatpants. “Let me walk you down.” You shook your head. “I think I want to walk out alone.”

It was a slap in the face. Realizing that you and Matt weren’t really together. This started as a hook up. You were attached now. You fell in love with waking up next to him, smiling at the tv when your roommates forced you to watch his games, having half dates which were mainly eating dinner before he took you to bed.

The Rangers game drowned on in the background of the dinner party. It wasn’t a formal dinner party, more of a potluck with cheap food and booze. “Thought you were bringing someone,” your friend slid in beside you as you made yourself another drink. “Yeah,” you swallowed, eyes falling on the tv, “he’s busy tonight.” The Rangers lost.

Matt was pissed by the end of the night. His texts weren’t being responded to. You weren’t answering. By the time the game ended and he was out of Madison Square Garden, your heavy hand had poured way too much into each of your drinks. It was crowded in your apartment. The food was picked over and theoretically the party should have been winding down but it wasn’t. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Matt was calling. “I should take this,” you hiccuped, accidentally standing too fast and toppling over the Drunk Jenga your friends were playing.

“Hello?” Your words were slurring together. “Are you drunk?” Matt immediately questioned. Another hiccup. “Why do you care if I am? You’re not my boyfriend.”

The words stung him. He really did like you. He wanted to be your boyfriend. It was just that every time he wanted to ask you, he chickened out. “Are you at your apartment?” he inquired. “Yeah.” Your voice was annoyed, he was pissing you off. Matt’s long legs helped with the power walk to your apartment. He snuck into the building behind some people who were leaving. He knew his way around.

The apartment door was unlocked but he didn’t want to just walk in. Knocking, he prayed someone would hear him. “Hello,” your roommate sang as she opened the door. “Oh,” she was taken aback. “Um, (Y/N)!” she shouted. Within seconds, a commotion was heard, laughter as you stumbled to the door. Your mouth ran dry. “Matt.”

“Can we talk?” his voice boomed in your ears. He didn’t wait for a response, he pulled you along to your bedroom, ignoring the looks from your roommates and friends watching. “Why are you here?” He sat you on the bed, looking for your typical water bottle you kept in there. “I like you. A lot. You got really cold this morning. I know I’m not your boyfriend but I really want to be. But you’re drunk right now and it’s not right for me to ask you now.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You like me?” He sighed and nodded, “I like you. A lot.”

When the sun poured into the bedroom, you were in your bed, in pajamas now, head pounding and feeling the urge to throw up. Matt was next to you. He felt miles away though. He was still asleep when you stumbled out of bed and went to throw up from the amount of alcohol you had consumed.

You were surprised you even remembered Matt’s confession. But you remembered how much you begged him to stay last night. When you returned to your room, he was awake. “Matt?” your voice was soft. “I like you too. A lot.”

“Kinda gathered that from the way you begged me to stay last night.” Your face heated up. “C’mere.” You embarrassingly made your way to your own bed quickly, sitting there. Matt dragged you into his arms and lap. “Tell me you like me again,” he asked.

“I like you,” you repeated. He kissed you, “I like you too.”

[7seas-of-ryy]

The Bet | Part 2

Author’s Note: I really wanted to make a Part 2 for this!! I have MANY wips right now so hopefully I'll have more for you guys soon :) also I absolutely LOVE all of your comments and will reply to them as soon as I can! <3

Summary: You won the bet but exactly how funny are you??

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: none, let me know if I need to add any :)

---

The bet you made with Cass and Rhys was the best thing to ever happen to you. A few days after you won, the entire inner circle went out for a night at Rita’s. Rhys and Cass had stayed true to their word and bought your drinks the entire night but the best part was Az had admitted his feelings to you.

The two of you went on a couple dates and eventually he asked you to be his. It was the happiest you had ever been.

You were currently sitting with the shadowsinger, each reading your books in silence when you spoke up.

“Ya know…I once heard a joke about amnesia… but I forgot how it goes!” You told the male with a grin on your face.

He gave you a loud laugh and pulled you closer, kissing the side of your head.

“When did you come up with that one?” He asked with a grin still on his face.

“Oh I just thought of it.” You said with a smirk, satisfied you made him laugh.

“You’ll have to tell Feyre that one, I think she’ll like it.” Az told you.

You nodded your head in agreement and you both went back to reading your books.

---

You were currently in the Summer Court with the rest of the inner circle for some business. You were all looking out at the sea, enjoying the view when you spoke up.

“What did the ocean say to the beach? ...Nothing, it just waved!" You said, stifling a laugh.

Az began to laugh immediately, Feyre joined him soon after. What you didn’t see was Feyre elbowing Rhys and Cass, forcing them to laugh at your joke. Mor just chuckled, seeing everything go down.

The spymaster pulled you in close to his side, resting his hand on your hip. He gave his brothers a quick glare over your head when you weren’t looking and they held up their hands in defense.

---

You were sitting with Cass and Rhys, waiting for a chance to tell them the new joke you learned.

“Hey, did you guys hear about the guy who got hit in the head with a can of soda??” You asked them, feigning a look of concern.

“What, oh no! Is he ok??” Rhys questioned.

“Yeah, he was lucky it was a soft drink!” You told them with excited eyes.

The two males sat across from you with blank faces, not budging even a tiny bit.

“C’mon you guys!! That was funny! Az would’ve laughed.” You huffed a breath.

“He only laughs because he’s getting some from you!” Cass stated, causing Rhys to hit his shoulder.

You gasped and placed a hand on your chest in offense.

"I'll have you know, Az loves my humor!! You're just upset because he thinks I'm funnier than you!" You smirked at Cass.

"She's got you there, she is waaayyy funnier than you." Rhys added, also smirking at the male.

"I hate both of you." Cass deadpanned.

---

A few days had passed and you were walking through the house trying to find the spymaster. You were passing by Rhys’ office when you heard him speak.

“It’s not that serious.” Rhys spoke.

“Yeah, just relax.” Cass added.

“It is that serious, I will not relax, and I will hurt you if you don’t listen to me.” Az threatened.

You gasped, not sure of what they could be discussing that was so serious. He sounded so upset with Rhys and Cass, you were about to burst through the door to figure out what was going on when you heard Cass speak again.

“I won’t laugh at Y/N’s jokes if they’re not funny!” Cass whisper shouted.

“It's really just the puns, they're awful!! I can’t fake laugh at those.” Rhys said in the same tone.

There were a few beats of silence before you heard Az sigh.

“Listen I know how bad the jokes are, but she loves them. You guys know how much I hate puns but do you see how happy she gets when she tells us a new joke? So I don’t care how hard you have to try, you will laugh at her jokes and tell her you like them.” He told his brothers.

You left to go to your room and didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. You felt conflicted. On one hand, you were hurt that he never actually liked your jokes but on the other, your heart melted at the lengths he was going to for you. But if he was lying about something as simple as liking your puns then what else was he lying about? Before you could continue to spiral, the male in question walked in.

“Hello my love, what’re you up to?” He asked you with a sweet smile, pulling you in for a kiss.

You turned your head last minute so his lips landed on your cheek. He gave you a confused look and tried again. This time, you put your finger on his lips to stop him, looking up into his face.

“What’re you doing?” His voice muffled by your finger.

“You don’t like my puns.” You stated simply and pulled your finger away.

“What?! Of course I do! They make me laugh so hard!” His voice got higher the longer the sentence went on.

“Az, stop. I heard you threatening Cass and Rhys.” You admitted.

His face dropped, shoulders slumped, and he looked genuinely devastated.

“Let me explain-” He started but you were quick to cut him off.

“Don’t…I’m not mad. Maybe a little sad that you don’t think I’m funny but when I heard you saying all of that…I think I fell even more in love with you.” You told him as your cheeks reddened.

“Really?” His eyes brightened instantly.

“Yeah, no one has ever gone through that much trouble just to make me happy.” You beamed.

“I really do love you so much… Also I do think you’re funny. I just really hate puns.” He told you.

“I love you too,” You spoke as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “And just so you know, you are o-fish-ally off the hook for pretending to like my puns.”

Genuine laughter came out of the male in front of you this time. He pulled you in closer and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Alright that one actually got me.” He whispered as he laid his forehead on yours.

He slowly leaned in and brushed his lips against yours, a soft exhale leaving him. A few blissful moments passed before he began to whisper.

“Just so you know, I would’ve endured and laughed at your puns for eternity.” Az confessed.

“Would’ve? No you definitely will be doing that.” You retorted.

Az just let out another laugh and pulled you back down for more kisses. A lifetime of puns didn’t sound so bad, as long as they were coming from you.

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[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Found-Family headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 4: (because they all deserved more time with each other)

(warning: drinking)

(part 3, here) - (part 2, here) - (part 1, here)

Everyone loves to give Señor Scratchy treats, even when Agatha insists they shouldn't.

Señor Scratchy especially loves Billy, Lilia and Sharon. He does likes to cuddle everyone, though. Except Jen, who he's always trying to bite, (???) because he wouldn't be Agatha's familiar if he didn't.

One day Jen jokes that she will turn him into a purse if he rages against her again—and everyone defensively yells at her at the same time. “Okay! Okay! Jeez! I was joking!”

Sharon cuts fruit for everyone every time they hang out together and forces them to eat it before doing anything else.

Jen usually pays for everything. It's the price of her constantly bragging about her, “real job.”

Agatha always teases her about it. One time, Lilia felt bad—and so she “went to the bathroom” and payed for everyone herself.

Billy himself got his first bad alcohol experience at age seventeen at his first big teen party, which Eddie took him to.

He got very fucking wasted very quickly because turns out he's not great at holding his alcohol. So—he begged Eddie not to call his parents, because, “they've bEeN through enOUGH I'M A HORRIBLE SON AND NOT EVEN reALLY THeirS--”

So, Eddie sighed and called Agatha to get him instead. And yes, your girl did drive ALL the way to Eastview—and spent the whole night sleepless, sobering him up to save him from the hungover. She was just glaring at Rio all night long, telling her to go make coffee and no funny business, while holding his head over the toilet. She was surprisingly gentle and comforting during the experience—because she does have her moments—like when Lilia had her traumatic hallucination in Jen's trial and Agatha gently went, “okay” instead of mocking her. That's the vibe.

BUT he still got the scolding of his life the next day. The whole neighbourhood heard Agatha yelling.

During the argument Agatha yelled that, “I'm not your mother!” and he shot back, “I know that, do YOU know that??” Which caused her to avoid him for a few days.

Later, Rio told him how much it actually affected her and why—and Billy felt really bad about it. On mother's day, he gave Agatha a gift basket of stuff he made himself, (with his bio-mom's help.) Agatha said it was tacky and unnecessary—but she actually teared up a bit. She opened the window and yelled at Wanda's abandoned lot to make an insensitive joke about how, “suck it, Wanda, you rank last in the mom list—” as to not show too much vulnerability. But Billy is used to her by now—and he knows that she appreciated it.

Alice always feels sad on mother's day. She visits her mother's grave site and tells her how bad her life is. This year, Billy went with her. And for the first time, Alice only had good things to tell her. About how she broke the curse—and she can finally do something with her life now. About how she got a new job, and a coven.

Also, to cope, Alice got a gift for Lilia and one for Sharon. They may not be her actual mothers—but she appreciates them both endlessly and their support means the world to her. She got them both protective crystals.

You know who ELSE got Sharon a gift??

Well, Sharon doesn't either. She just received an anonymous bouquet of Azaleas and she had no idea who sent it to her.

It was Agatha, but she'd die before admitting it. She's the last person you'd suspect, since she still calls her Mrs. Hart despite how triggering it is, or pretends she doesn't remember her existence at all. In reality, she's grown fond of the Westview residents despite her best efforts not to. She doesn't particularly respect them and she does view them as “lesser,” but she doesn't wish them harm. They did take care of her for three years—and the Agnes role does have bits and pieces of Agatha in it.

Billy finds out through Rio and accidentally tells Alice. Alice tells Jen, Jen tells Lilia, (because she's not about to hide Agatha's embarrassing secret.) and Lilia tells Sharon.

Sharon is surprised but also extremely moved, considering she doesn't have any living family. She wants to thank Agatha, so she gets the idea to throw her a surprise party. (Since she herself hasn't been to a party since Mr. Davis passed away and she really wants to attend one!!)

She gets help from the coven but also invites all the main Westview residents that we know and love. Rio proposes the idea of writing, 'Agnes of Westview' on the cake, to get back at Agatha for always calling them by their Wanda-branded names. Sharon doesn't want to, but everyone else finds it hilarious, so they do it.

Agatha pretends to be extremely annoyed.

She isn't. She just never expected this to happen to her. For people to want to be there—and to see her as someone at least capable of good—someone who deserves a second chance.

They eat and drink together, having a blast. Billy isn't allowed to drink, but Agatha sneaks him a glass. Just ONE glass. You know, to teach him responsibility, as if she's the queen of it. “It's about knowing when to stop, teen.” “oh is it? tell us more”

Sharon is the opposite of a light-weight. She chugs down those shots like they're nothing—and if you ask her, she'll dismissively wave and say she's “lived a life.” Still, she doesn't seem to know her limits, and she gets carried away. At least she prepared some bomb ass charcuterie for everyone!!

Jen is a classy drinker, picky with her alcohol. She knows her limits and always drinks just enough to “make the company tolerable,” since, “no sane person could ever find you idiots amusing without a few shots.”

Lilia becomes incredibly talkative when she drinks and she loses whatever filter she may have otherwise had. Not to say that usually she has too much of a filter, but drunk, she literally becomes Patti Lupone. Jen finds it endearing and listens intently, Alice finds it sort of amusing but also a bit shocking, Rio matches her freak and Agatha just finds it fucking terrifying.

You'd expect Rio to be wilding, but she already does that sober. No, instead, she becomes very clingy and very affectionate—just whipped over Agatha. And she's kind of a light-weight too, which surprises everyone at first. It's because her real form is literally skeletal and her human form is probably maintained magically—so there's less actual real body mass to dilute the alcohol. So, death can tear through the fabric of reality, but metabolising alcohol is just too difficult.

Alice can hold her alcohol very well. She was once the definition of a teenage dirtbag, so she has experience in the field. Now she's pretty sensible. She's also the most clear-headed, even when she's drunk enough to stumble around.

Agatha herself is a slow drinker because she wants to make fun of everyone else for being less sober than her. She's developed a fair bit of tolerance over the years, but when it finally hits it really hits.

During a particularly rough case of drunkenness her and Jen sung karaoke together. Not during Agatha's party, though. Neither of them can quite recall the incident, or so they claim. Unfortunately for them, Alice recorded the whole thing. Rio made it her ringtone, as did Lilia.

Jen forces Lilia to get a skin-care routine. “Doll, I actively choose to look like this because I don't have the time or energy to maintain a youthful appearance. What makes you think I'll spend money on these products that capitaliSe in womeN's InsEcuriTiEs—I'm a divination fraud, you're a beauty guru fraud, we're both senior citizens, I don't care for this—”

And Jen is like, “okay ouch but nO this is nOt what I've been selling. This is new. We're not talking about just a luxury—the skin is the largest organ of the body and is exposed to various environmental stressors like pollution, UV rays, and temperature changes, as well as internal factors like stress and diet. I'm giFting these products to you I mAde them in a cAuLdron.”

Lilia is so flabbergasted by the clarity of Jen's explanation that she agrees. However, she constantly forgets to actually apply it.

Fortunately, Jen never forgets. And Lilia is probably the only person that Jen tolerates to constantly give reminders to.

[gogobootz1]

At War

Luke Castellan x Reader [fem!daughter of Apollo]

Summary: There's nothing like some friendly competition, but when planning rival parties, you and Luke are a little less than friendly.

Word count: 2k

Every year, there came a time for the retreats- a chance for children of the gods to bond and have some special fun. One big retreat seemed pointless, so camp faculty allowed two. The two retreats accidentally split the boys and girls, and naturally, they turned into an (unofficial) competition. As one of the oldest and most experienced campers- you’d been volunteering to champion a retreat for years. Traditionally, you’ve hosted a slumber party equipped with PJs, dancing, games, movies, braid trains, nail polish, and basically anything anyone could want. You also, of course, have the best food. Each year, it’s been a hit, and it’s only gotten better with time. 

The only problem is that you have tough competition. The day after the retreats, you always hear about what happened at the other one. Paintball, camping, fishing, mad romps through the wood, scary stories- barbecue. Everyone loved it. And every year, you’ve had to quietly conceal your anger and jealousy. It pains you to admit that Luke sure can throw a party (maybe even better than you can). But this year, you are more determined than ever to outdo him. 

The two of you have long been in competition, and things have only escalated. As hilarious as Mr. D found both your antics last year, Chiron was extremely unhappy about the fact the two of you had exceeded the budget by miles. He’d told you both to reign it in this year or no more retreats. When he felt that didn’t sufficiently move you, he threatened to let other people plan them. You both caved and vowed to stick to the budget this year. 

You’re always a little frantic the day of, and today is no different. To your chagrin, Luke is cool as a cucumber. It pisses you off to no end. 

“Nervous?” A smug voice voice asks from behind your back. You drop the spoon you were using to push mashed potatoes around your plate. 

You turn slowly on the bench, “Why should I be?"

“Usually, you’re pulling out your hair before the retreats,” he says skeptically, “perfectionism taking its toll.”

“Yeah? Well, my perfectionism makes my parties perfect,” you flaunt. The few sisters that can stand to be around you when you’re stressed roll their eyes. It’s clear to them this is escalating. 

“What about when Susie vomited in your bouncy house last year?” He taunts, and you glare at him. That girl should not have been jumping after four bags of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and two Redbulls- it was hardly your fault. 

“How about when Aidan got a concussion after falling off the mechanical bull?” You snap back. 

You don’t notice Luke’s shadow until he pipes in, “Are these people okay?” 

“They signed waivers!” You say at the same time, and the new Poseidon kid takes a defensive step back. You send Luke a glare when you realize you spoke in sync. He huffs before smirking at you. 

“Good luck with your sleepover,” he mocks, “You’re gonna need it.” Before you can reply, he marches away, protégée in tow. 

“Eat shit!” You call out after him. 

“That was weak, girl,” one of your sisters says.  

“Shut up, I know,” you shake your head at her, “now come help me set up.” You drag her up by her elbow to make your sacrifices, then get to work. 

Five hours later, the main hall looks great. Your disco ball is glimmering, the mini photo booth is equipped with feather boas and pink cowboy hats, the food is all laid out, and the stage you bribed some Hephaestus kids to build looks great. 

“Perfect,” you whisper, pleased at your surroundings. 

“Fucking finally!” Your sister throws her hands up and walks away. You’ve very likely driven most of your half-siblings insane today. 

“Thanks for your help!” You call after her, and as she goes, you spot some prying eyes through the window. Percy, you think his name is, looks afraid now that you’ve caught him peering in through the window. In a few swift moves, you leave the room and block his exit from the patio. 

“Can I help you?” You ask suspiciously. 

“Just admiring your excellent disco theme,” he says, putting an ultra-sweet smile on his face. As charming as the boy is, you take your retreat very seriously and feel a deep-seated urge to protect it from potential sabotage. 

“Mhmmm,” you nod, “and you wouldn’t happen to be reporting back to anyone about what you’ve seen?” 

“Whaaaaaat?” Percy asks, awkwardly chuckling. 

Your shoulders drop, of course, Luke would stoop to employing spies. You dig into your pocket and pull out a ten-dollar bill, “I’ll give you this if you act as a double agent.” 

He eyes your money suspiciously, “Do you really think I can be bought?” 

You roll your eyes and pull out another bill, “How’s twenty?” 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he grabs both bills from your hand and shakes it. Percy happily walks past you, shoving his new earnings into his pocket. 

You grin, “Make sure he hears all about how awesome my party is!”

“I’m on it, boss,” he calls over his shoulder. After a short walk, he’s back to the boathouse lounge where Luke has been waiting for his report. 

“Well?” The older boy asks him, jumping up from his spot on the couch. 

Percy shakes his head solemnly, “Bad news, boss.” 

“What?!” He asks, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me she went over budget. She didn't get another mariachi band, did she?” Percy shakes his head and files this new information away. With what he’s been hearing about the last few retreats, he’s almost sad to have missed them. 

“No, but it does look super cool,” he nods, and it really wasn’t a lie- he saw a chocolate fountain on that snack table. 

“Damn,” Luke’s face twitches in annoyance. 

“But your party will be great too, I’m sure,” he smiles, nodding reassuringly. 

“Of course, it will,” he says defensively, “make sure you check back in over there from time to time. I want to know how it’s progressing.” 

“Sure,” Percy nods, but his concern at the competitiveness underlying this event grows. He wonders just how bad this will get tonight. But check back in he does, and he won’t deny he enjoys himself at the sleepover. Every time he visits, you give him a new sparkly mocktail, and the Aphrodite girls give him a new feather boa. At one point, he’s wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and eating some cake. He was very impressed when M&Ms fell out of the middle as you cut it. Apparently, it’s also one of your newest sisters’ birthdays- he’s heard whisperings of some big special present for her yet to come. 

Each time Percy returns to the other retreat, he can see Luke get a little more tense. The fact that he’s exaggerating doesn’t help either. When he tells the older boy that you have an ice sculpture spitting Dr. Pepper, he thinks he sees steam pour from Luke’s ears. It’s not like people aren’t enjoying his party, but Percy can that Luke wants to one-up you and feels like he’s falling short. 

“And I’ve heard she has a special surprise in store for Sophie since it’s her birthday. Apparently, she’s the newest addition to their cabin, so she wants to do something special,” Percy nods at him, eating a taco he had brought back from your party. Luke cuts him off by grabbing the taco from his hand just as he’s about to take another bite. “Hey!” He protests when Luke puts it right in the trash. 

“When is this surprise?” He asks the twelve-year-old. 

“The Aphrodite girls told me I should be back in like twenty minutes so I wouldn’t miss it,” Percy tells him. 

“And when was that?” 

“Like twenty minutes ago,” he shrugs, and Luke just stares at him. “Ohhhhh,” he says when he realizes how long it’s been. 

“Come on,” Luke shakes his head and starts out the door, Percy in tow. They can hear the surprise before they see it, an ABBA song blasting out of the building. Only, they don’t realize who's performing it until they walk in. Along with two of your musically-inclined Apollo sisters, you’re dressed in bell bottoms and sleeves. And you look like you’re having the time of your life- until you spot them, that is. 

“Look, look, look, look,” you pull the microphone away to mutter to Tanya. Her shock is visible, but you both keep performing anyway. The crowd goes wild at the end, and Sophie runs up on stage to give you a big hug. You let Tanya take over host duties and make your way through the crowd to the party crasher. 

“That was,” Luke starts, but you are not keen to hear whatever he has to say about your outfit, or your performance, or your party. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

His expression instantly sours, “I wanted some Dr. Pepper from your ice sculpture, where is it?” 

“What are you talking about?” You’re highly confused until Percy gives you the cut-it-out motion from behind Luke’s back. “We put it back in the freezer,” you say, and Percy gives you the thumbs up. No matter what you think of him, Luke’s not an idiot. He turns around in time to spot Percy’s gestures. 

“Wait a second, are you two colluding?” He looks between the two of you in shock. 

“You were colluding with him first,” you shrug, crossing your arms. “You really earned that twenty dollars, by the way,” you compliment the kid, and he gives you a pleased nod. 

“Dude,” Luke turns toward Percy, betrayed. 

“She outbid you,” he shrugs. “Hey, what if you guys just went to each other’s parties?” 

You both eye the boy suspiciously, “Why would we do that?” You ask him, and Luke nods in agreement.

“Well, you’re both so desperate to know about the other’s party, so why don’t you just experience it for yourselves?” Percy asks, and when he feels you aren’t sufficiently moved by it, he tries again. “If you attend both parties, you can decide who wins.” 

“Good enough for me,” Luke wanders off into your party.

“Yeah, okay,” you head for the door. 

“Hopeless,” Percy mumbles, shaking his head. 

An hour later, you and Luke meet in the middle of your respective parties. You stare at each other for a minute before you admit in sync, “I had fun.” 

“We have to stop doing that,” you shake your head. 

“Agreed.” 

You’re both silent again for a minute. “The slip and slide was a good idea,” you say reluctantly, soap still in your hair, “low budget but lots of fun. Tubing was good too. And the campfire.” You had changed out of the disco attire and into shorts and a T-shirt over your swimsuit. 

“Did you try-“

“Chris can really grill,” you nod. After some hesitance, you finally choke out a confession, “I am very displeased to call you the winner.”

“No way,” he shakes his head. 

“What?”

“You totally won,” he shrugs, “the disco was killer.” You only now realize he changed into pajamas. 

“You actually embraced the sleepover?” 

He flicks some grass off your shoulder, “You gave my party a fair shot.” That’s true, and you nod, looking away for a second. “The chocolate fountain was a nice touch.”

“Thank you.”

“And I was trying to tell you earlier, but your performance was really cool,” he admits. 

“Yeah?” A genuine grin grows on your face at this. Most everyone in the Apollo cabin loves music, but some of your half-siblings are more keen to perform than you. Hearing this, and from him especially, means a lot. 

“Yeah,” he nods, smiling now too. “You’re the winner here.” 

“Let’s call it a draw?” You offer, and he nods. 

“What if we just worked together and planned one party next year?” He asked, and you pretend to consider it for a moment. 

“That could be cool,” you nod, “imagine what we could do with the combined budget.” 

He grins and scrunches his nose, “How about we enjoy this year’s party until then?”

“We could do that,” you nod, “where to?”

He swiftly wraps an arm over your shoulder and starts guiding you back to your party, “Let’s boogie.” You laugh, and he thinks it’s a sound he could get used to. 

-----------------------------------------

I've been awake for too long so idk if this is coherent but I had fun <3

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 22

Bucky x reader AU

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: SMUTTTTTTTTTT

A/N: Okay so look I don't normally write smut. I've never done it before this is as good as it's gonna get. I apologize in advance xoxoxoxox 🫶🏻💅

The door to the apartment slammed shut with a force that rattled the frame. Sam, who was lounging on the couch with a beer in hand, turned his head fast, eyebrows raised.

“Whoa, buddy, easy there. We’ve got neighbors,” Sam joked, trying to lighten the tension.

Steve stood by the door, his hands on his hips, chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon. He muttered, “Sorry,” before running a hand through his hair and stepping into the living room.

Sam sat up straighter, instantly on alert. “Okay… what happened? You look like you’ve just been through the wringer.”

Steve exhaled sharply, moving to the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge. He twisted the cap off and leaned against the counter, taking a long sip before answering. “I ran into her.”

Sam blinked, caught off guard. “Her? You mean Y/N?”

Steve nodded, his jaw tightening. “Yeah.”

Sam frowned, setting his beer on the coffee table. “And?”

“And apparently Natasha asked her for space,” Steve said, his tone heavy with frustration.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Nat? Why?”

Steve’s laugh was humorless as he pushed off the counter and paced the room. “Because of me.”

Sam leaned forward, now completely invested. “What do you mean because of you?”

Steve stopped pacing, raking a hand through his hair again. “Y/N told me that Natasha’s in love with me.”

Sam choked on his beer mid-sip, coughing violently as he tried to recover. “I’m sorry, what?”

Steve’s expression was grim. “Apparently, Nat’s been in love with me for years.”

Sam blinked rapidly, trying to process. “I mean… I always noticed the looks, but I didn’t know it was like that.”

Steve froze, narrowing his eyes at Sam. “What looks?”

Sam raised his hands defensively. “The longing looks, man. Nat’s good at hiding her feelings, but every once in a while, when you’re looking at Y/N, Nat’s looking at you like…” He trailed off, shrugging. “Like she wishes you’d look at her that way.”

Steve’s lips pressed into a thin line as he grabbed a chair and sank into it, cracking open the beer. He took another sip before saying, “That’s not all.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up again. “Oh, God, what else? I swear this shits gonna be the death of me.”

Steve stared at the table, his voice low. “I told her.. she shouldn’t be with Bucky. That she should be with me.”

This time, Sam didn’t just choke—he spit out his beer entirely, coughing and spluttering. “You said what?! Steven I—”

Steve ignored him, cutting him off, his words tumbling out in a flood. “I couldn’t hold it in, Sam. Seeing her with him, hearing about how they’re just together now like it was always meant to be—because apparently it is, but it’s just killing me. And I said it. I told her she should be with me.”

Sam stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

Steve sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “And then she said…” His voice wavered slightly. “She said we’re all leaving her. Nat, me, and apparently you.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Sam shifted uncomfortably, his beer suddenly less appealing.

Steve’s sharp gaze locked onto him. “What did she mean by that, Sam?”

Sam hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the beer bottle. “I was gonna talk to you tonight,” he admitted.

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Talk to me about what?”

Sam let out a breath, leaning back into the couch. “I got a promotion at work.”

Steve’s eyes lit up briefly with surprise. “That’s great, man. Holy shit, congratulations!”

Sam gave a small, bittersweet smile. “Thanks. But, uh… the thing is, it’s across the country, to Washington to be exact, I’ll be moving in two weeks.”

Steve’s face fell, and he let out a quiet, “Shit.”

Sam nodded, the weight of the confession heavy in the room. “Yeah. I didn’t want to drop this on you all at once, but I guess it’s as good a time as any.”

Steve stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m proud of you, Sam. Really. You deserve this. But damn…” He ran a hand through his hair again. “Looks like I’ll need to move.”

Sam chuckled softly. “Yeah, sorry about that. Maybe at the next farmers market Nat will buy you the rest of the farm ceramics you can move em into my room, start charging rent..”

Steve snorted, though the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. The two of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their respective issues hanging in the air.

Finally, Sam broke the silence. “So… what are you gonna do about Natasha?”

Steve looked down at his beer, his expression conflicted. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m not even sure I’m in the right headspace to do anything about it.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Fair enough. But you know she deserves better than waiting around for you to figure it out, right?”

Steve’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I know,” he said quietly.

“And what about Y/N? What are you gonna do about what you said to her?”

Steve sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know. She probably told Bucky by now, and I’m sure he’s ready to kill me.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, you really stepped in it this time, man.”

Steve shot him a look. “Thanks for the support.”

Sam shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Hey, I’m just saying what we’re both thinking. You’re gonna have to figure this out, Steve. Because right now? It’s a mess.”

Steve let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

They both sat there in silence again, the enormity of everything weighing heavily on them. Sam finally clapped Steve on the shoulder. “Look, no matter how much of a shitshow this is, it won't be like this forever man, its us, all of us.”

Steve gave him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Sam said, leaning back. “You’ve got some serious damage control to do first.”

As the weight of the conversation hung in the air, Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand over his face before shooting Steve a mock-serious look.

“Y’know, I can’t leave in good conscience if all my children aren’t okay,” he said, gesturing broadly as if addressing a group.

Steve frowned, confused. “Your children?”

Sam smirked, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Yeah, my children. You, Y/N, Bucky, Nat, Wanda—this whole dysfunctional friend group minus Wanda actually, shes just a saint, hallelujah! But you’re all like my unruly little kids, and I need you to get your shit together before I move halfway across the country. Otherwise, I’m gonna feel guilty as hell.”

Steve snorted, but there was a faint glimmer of a smile at the corner of his lips. “We’re not your kids, Sam.”

“Oh, really?” Sam raised an eyebrow, sitting up straighter. “Who’s the one everyone comes crying to when things go south? Who’s the one playing mediator when y’all start tearing each other apart? Me. I’m the glue holding this chaos together, Rogers.”

Steve let out a soft laugh despite himself, shaking his head. “I didn’t realize we put you through so much, Dad.”

“Damn right,” Sam said with a mock scowl. “You’re lucky I’m so patient. Now, can we please work on fixing this mess before I have to catch a plane? I’ve got enough to worry about without you and Natasha staring at each other from across the room like you’re in a sad indie film.”

Steve sighed, leaning back into the couch and swirling his beer. “I’ll figure it out, Sam.”

Sam gave him a look. “You better. ‘Cause I’m not above locking you and everyone in a room together and waiting it out.”

Steve laughed quietly, shaking his head. “You’re relentless.”

“And you love me for it,” Sam quipped, standing up and clinking his beer against Steve’s. “Now, get your ass in gear, Rogers. Fix it with the fam. And maybe don’t confess your love to someone who’s already taken next time.”

Steve winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, message received.”

Sam smirked. “Good. Now, can we chill for the rest of the night? Or do I have to keep playing therapist?”

Steve chuckled, clinking his beer against Sam’s again. “No more therapy sessions tonight.”

Sam grinned. “That’s what I thought. Now pass me the pretzels.”

Natasha slammed the door behind her, the sharp sound echoing through the apartment. She tossed her bag onto the floor and leaned back against the doorframe, her hands gripping the strap of her jacket like a lifeline. Her jaw was tight, and her eyes were red, like she was holding back the last thread of control she had.

Wanda poked her head out from the kitchen, her wooden spoon mid-stir in a pot of something fragrant. Her brows furrowed at Natasha’s expression. “Woah, what happened? You look like you’ve just walked out of a war zone.”

Natasha let out a bitter laugh, kicking her shoes off aggressively and heading toward the couch. “Might as well have.”

“Okay, uh is this serious?” Wanda abandoned her cooking, setting the spoon down and following Natasha into the living room. She perched on the arm of the couch as Natasha sank into it, her hands immediately rubbing at her temples. “Spill.”

Natasha exhaled sharply, her voice biting. “I snapped at Y/N.”

Wanda blinked, tilting her head. “About what?”

“About Bucky. About Steve. About everything.” Natasha waved a hand, her frustration clear. “She came to me asking for advice on Bucky. Apparently, he lied to her about going out for drinks with Sam, and she just wanted to talk it through. But instead of helping her, I completely lost it.”

Wanda’s face softened with understanding. “What did you say?”

Natasha hesitated, guilt flickering across her face. “I told her she was overthinking it. Being dramatic like always. And then… I told her I needed space.”

Wanda’s mouth fell open slightly, but Natasha wasn’t done.

“And then,” Natasha continued, her voice tightening with self-loathing, “I told her I didn’t understand why Steve was in love with her and not… not me, told her she wasn’t anything special.”

“Oh my god, Natasha…,” Wanda murmured, her tone gentle but disappointed.

“I know, i know…” Natasha said quickly, her voice cracking. “I know how shitty it was. But I couldn’t stop myself. She’s so… happy right now. With Bucky, finally. And I’m standing here, watching her and then watching Steve fall apart while I’m—” She broke off, running her hands through her hair. “I’m stuck. Just stuck.”

Wanda leaned forward, trying to catch Natasha’s gaze. “You’re not stuck, Nat. You’re hurting. But you’ve got to stop projecting that onto her.”

Natasha scoffed bitterly. “She said all she wanted was advice. Advice on Bucky, of all people. And I couldn’t even give her that without making it about me.”

Wanda’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Because it is about you, Nat. Not her. You’re angry with Steve for not seeing you the way you want him to. You’re angry with yourself for not saying anything sooner. And yeah, maybe you’re a little angry that she’s happy with Bucky while you’re feeling invisible. But you can’t blame her for any of that.”

Natasha’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “I know, I know, but it feels so unfair, Wanda. Why am I always the one standing on the sidelines? Why does it always feel like I’m waiting for something that’s never going to happen?”

Wanda sighed, sliding off the armrest and sitting next to Natasha. She placed a comforting hand on her friend’s knee. “Nat, you’ve spent so much time watching from the sidelines that you’ve convinced yourself you belong there. But you don’t. You deserve to be in the center of someone’s world, just like she is to Bucky.”

“And what if that someone is Steve?” Natasha whispered, her voice trembling.

Wanda hesitated, her heart aching for her friend. “Then you need to figure out if it’s worth the risk. But Nat… if you want Steve to see you, you have to give him the chance. You can’t keep hiding how you feel.”

Natasha wiped at her eyes angrily. “What if it’s too late? What if he’s too far gone on Y/N?”

Wanda gave her a sad smile. “Steve’s not too far gone, but before anything can happen, he needs to work through his feelings for her. And you… you need to figure out what you really want.”

Natasha nodded slowly, her voice barely audible. “I just don’t want to lose her, Wanda. Or Steve. Or any of you.”

“You won’t,” Wanda assured her. “We’re too close for that. But you’ve got to be honest—with her, with Steve, and most importantly, with yourself.”

Natasha leaned back against the couch, letting out a shuddering breath. “I’ll talk to her. Just… not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” Wanda agreed. She stood, patting Natasha on the shoulder. “Come on, babe. I’ve got pasta in the kitchen. Food always helps.”

Natasha let out a weak laugh, nodding. “Yeah. Pasta sounds good.”

The cabin looked exactly as you remembered it, nestled in the woods with its rustic charm intact. The wooden exterior was weathered but sturdy, and the scent of pine trees and earth filled the crisp air.

Bucky had insisted on carrying your bags, his easy smile making it impossible to argue. Now, as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, you were flooded with memories of your childhood and the countless weekends spent here with the group.

"Home sweet home," Bucky said softly, stepping aside to let you in.

The inside was just as cozy as you remembered - worn furniture, a stone fireplace, and the faint scent of cedar lingering in the air. A fire was already crackling in the hearth, casting a warm, flickering glow across the room.

"You did all this?" you asked, turning to him.

Bucky shrugged, a boyish grin tugging at his lips.

"Figured it'd be nice to have it ready for you."

Your heart swelled as you dropped your coat onto the couch, taking in the space. It felt so intimate now, just the two of you surrounded by memories and the quiet of the woods.

"Bucky," you started, your voice soft, "this is perfect."

His eyes softened, and he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "You deserve perfect."

After getting all settled, which didnt take long thanks to Bucky already doing everything, the two of you sat by the fire, a bottle of wine on the table between you and an easy warmth filling the room. You couldn't stop smiling, leaning against Bucky's shoulder as you talked about everything and nothing.

"Remember the time Steve got stuck on the roof because Nat dared him to climb up there?" Bucky said, laughing as he rubbed small circles on your shoulder.

You giggled, the memory vivid. "And you were the one who had to help him down. He wouldn't stop screaming about how he was gonna die."

Bucky tilted his head back, laughing. "It was his own fault for taking the dare. Dumb ass."

The sound of his laughter filled the cabin, and you couldn't help but stare at him. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his head tilted slightly, and his hand stayed firmly on you, grounding you in the moment.

"Hey," Bucky said, noticing your gaze. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

You bit your lip, a flush creeping up your cheeks.

"Just... how happy I am. I didn't think I would have something like this, especially with you it feels surreal."

Bucky's expression softened, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "You and me both, I'm scared I'm going to wake up one day and not have you like this... but loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

Before you could respond, he stood and walked to the fireplace, picking up a small leather-bound book from the mantel. He turned it over in his hands, his fingers tracing the edges as if gathering the courage to part with it.

“What’s that?” you asked, tilting your head, curiosity softening your voice.

Bucky’s gaze flicked to yours, hesitant but filled with something deeper—hope, love, fear. He walked back, sitting down beside you and holding the book out. “It’s for you.”

Your brow furrowed as you reached for it, your fingers brushing against the worn leather. It felt warm from his hands, and across the front, your name was scrawled in his familiar, messy handwriting.

“It’s… letters,” he began, his voice quiet, almost uncertain. “Letters, things, random thoughts or things i just wanted to say to you but never did because I was a coward.”

Your breath caught as you opened the book, the creak of the spine breaking the silence between you. The first page was dated years ago, the ink slightly faded but unmistakably his handwriting.

You began to read aloud:

“Y/N,

Today, I saw you laugh at something Steve said, and it hit me how much I love that sound. I know I'm only 17 but I’d do anything to hear it every day for the rest of my life.”

Your voice broke on the last word, your eyes already filling with tears. You looked up at him, stunned, but he just gave you a small, nervous smile.

You flipped to another random page.

“Y/N,

I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight, but the words caught in my throat. I wish I was braver, wish I could just say it, but what if it changes everything? What if I lose you? I can't lose you.”

Tears spilled freely now as you flipped through the pages, each one a snapshot of Bucky’s heart. The dates led all the way back to your teenage years, to the very beginning of your friendship.

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice trembling as the weight of his words settled over you. “This is….”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. “Is it too much?” he asked softly, his vulnerability laid bare.

You shook your head, setting the book down gently before throwing your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. "No, its everything... its perfect. You're perfect."

His hands settled on your waist, holding you tightly as if afraid you might slip away.

"You've always been everything to me," he murmured against your hair, the words barely audible.

The air shifted, charged with emotion and years of longing finally laid bare. When you pulled back to look at him, his eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world fell away. Slowly, deliberately, you leaned in, and your lips met his.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if testing the boundaries of this newfound vulnerability. But it quickly deepened, the years of pent-up emotion pouring out with every touch, every movement.

His hands slipped under your sweater, his calloused palms warm against your skin. The contact made you gasp, and he used the opportunity to pull you closer, his grip firm but careful, as though you were something precious.

"God, I love you," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need and emotion.

Your heart swelled, and vou whispered back, "I love you too."

His forehead rested against yours as his breathing mingled with yours. His eyes searched yours, filled with unspoken questions and promises. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low, almost trembling.

"I've never been more sure of anything," you said, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.

He smiled then, a soft, genuine smile that made you fall all over again. He kissed you deeply, his hands traveling up your back with a reverence that made your entire body hum.

As he laid you back gently against the couch, his lips never leaving yours, the world outside ceased to exist. His touch was both careful and consuming, his hands exploring every inch of your skin as if committing you to memory. Each touch felt like a declaration, a promise.

"You're everything to me," he whispered, his lips brushing the curve of your jaw. "I want to give you the world."

"You already have," you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed his way down your neck.

When his fingertips trailed down the slope of your breast, a jolt of sensation arced through your body, making your breath catch in the back of your throat. Every nerve ending seemed to come alive at once, and your pulse quickened, pounding a wild rhythm that made your head spin. The featherlight touch sent shivers skittering up your spine, each one a thousand points of sensation that made every inch of you ache with hunger.

His mouth found the peak of one breast, his lips closing around it in a slow, languid kiss. You gasped at the wet heat of his tongue, at the way his lips pulled gently at the sensitive flesh. Your body arched into him instinctively, craving more, demanding it with a want so overwhelming that it eclipsed everything else.

“Bucky,” you gasped, his name tumbling from your lips like a plea. Your hands clutched at his hair, guiding him back up to your mouth where you could devour him in a kiss.

He moved with you, letting you pull him closer, urging you to take what you needed. When he rolled you onto your back, his body settling between your legs, you felt his hardness press against you. You wanted to feel him—his bare skin sliding against yours, the heat of him sinking into your core—but you also didn’t want to let go of the kiss, didn't want this moment of connection to be severed.

He seemed to read your mind because his lips never left yours as he guided your hands down his body. He let you unbutton his jeans, and the sound of his zipper coming undone sent another rush of heat through you. When your fingers found his length, a low groan tore from his throat, vibrating against your lips.

“I want you,” you whispered, the words almost lost in the wetness of the kiss.

His response was immediate—a low growl that bordered on a whimper. “Oh, God, I’ve been waiting so long for this, for you sweetheart” he muttered, his hand slipping between your legs. “You’re so wet for me.”

His words were like fuel to the fire, sparking a hunger so deep and primal within you that it hurt. You pushed against his touch, seeking friction, seeking anything that would give you the release you craved. He understood, his fingers stroking you with a careful precision that made your entire body clench.

You moaned, the word breathless with need. Your hips arched up, moving in tandem with his strokes. The pressure built, like something coiling within you, waiting to burst.

He gave you more, sliding a finger into you, then two, curling them deep as though searching for a sweet spot that would unravel you completely. You gasped when he found it, his gentle strokes hitting it over and over until you were trembling beneath him.

“Bucky, I—” The words died on your lips when he slid a third finger inside you. The sensation was almost overwhelming, his touch, his kiss, the need burning through you, all mixing together until it was impossible to focus on anything but him.

The world tilted, your body shuddering with a wave of sensation, and then you were flying, soaring above everything else as your release hit you like a tidal wave. Your head tipped back, mouth opening on a silent cry, the feeling almost too intense to bear. Every nerve ending in your body seemed to crackle with electricity, the pleasure like a thousand bolts of lightning exploding within you.

When you came back down from the high of your orgasm, Bucky was kissing your neck, his breath warm against your skin. He looked up at you, his blue eyes shining with a softness you’d never seen before, and the sight made your chest hurt.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice low and rough with emotion. “Always. Forever.”

Your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him into another kiss. “I love you too,” you murmured against his lips. “So much Buck”

He smiled at you, and there was so much affection and adoration in his eyes that it threatened to overwhelm you all over again.

You reached for him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he settled between your thighs. He slid into you slowly, filling you, stretching you until you were full with the length of him. It wasn’t enough, though. You needed more—needed his breath to mingle with yours, needed his skin to be flush against yours.

When he pulled out, you whimpered in protest, but he just smiled down at you, a gentle smile that made your heart swell with emotion. He grasped your hips, pulling you into a sitting position as he settled onto his back. The movement brought him deeper within you, and the sensation was so overwhelming that you had to catch your breath.

“I want you on me,” Bucky whispered, his eyes holding yours as he lifted you, helping you find a rhythm that left you both breathless. “I want to see you.”

You started to move “Baby,” Bucky moaned, his eyes locked onto your body moving above him. “Oh, fuck.”

The words were guttural, filled with so much emotion that it threatened to overwhelm everything else. You could feel him throbbing within you, his length swelling, stretching you further than you thought possible. The feeling was almost too much to handle, yet at the same time, it wasn’t enough.

“Harder,” you gasped, your voice barely audible over your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your fingers found Bucky’s, linking with them as his hips began to move faster beneath yours. “Deeper. Please.”

He groaned at your words, the sound dark and edged with desperation. “I’m close,” he warned, but you could tell he wanted to wait, wanted to ensure you reached your orgasm first.

You leaned down, pressing your lips to his ear. “Come with me,” you urged, your words a soft whisper that turned into a moan when he hit your sweet spot again. The feeling was so intense you felt yourself begin to unravel, pleasure flooding you until it seemed to spill over.

“Yes,” Bucky muttered, the word a dark growl, his hips bucking up hard as his length thickened, pulsing with an imminent release. “Oh, fuck..”

Your body tensed at the same time as his, the pleasure cresting until it seemed impossible to hold back the orgasm any longer. It hit you like a wave, pulling you under with such force that you were powerless to do anything but let it consume you.

Bucky’s mouth found yours, muffling your cries of pleasure as he began to come. You could feel him throbbing within you, warm heat spilling into you, filling you until the sensation was almost too overwhelming to bear.

Time seemed to stretch and compress all at once, the only sound was your ragged breathing, and his quiet grunts of pleasure as his body emptied into yours. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, making your lungs feel tight with the sheer force of the feeling.

Finally, your high began to ebb, leaving you both breathless and boneless, bodies trembling as though the pleasure had taken every ounce of strength you possessed. Bucky’s arms found their way around you, holding you close as though trying to absorb you into himself. When you looked up, his eyes were gazing back at you, filled with an emotion that stole whatever breath you had left in your lungs.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice a soft sound that seemed lost amidst the pounding of your heartbeat.

His smile was slow to form, but when it did, it lit up his whole face. His lips brushed over yours, the kiss warm and lingering. “Mine.”

“Yours.” You pressed one last kiss to his mouth, your lips lingering on the word.

[ravenslvt]

why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader (pt.4) ☆

links to pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

cw: porn with feelings, major confessions, lots of fluff, oral sex both m and f receiving, face sitting, suna has feelings.

the silence of the kitchen felt deafening. you and rintarou sat on the stools of the kitchen island counter while his sister stood at the other side, staring at you two. your legs swing, dangling off the tall stool with anxiousness filling your stomach.

“so… you two… have been-“ the younger suna starts.

“ami i-“ her brother speaks first, cutting her off

“shut your ugly mouth rintarou.” she scolds him. you stay silent.

“we literally look the same??” he puts his arms up in defense.

“rin, please stop talking…” you mumble to the middle blocker next to you. he just sighs and slumps in his seat.

ami takes a few breaths before speaking.

“i’m not mad okay…” she fidgets with her manicured nails while she talks.

“i just wish you didn’t feel the need to like, hide it from me, y’know?” she sighs. you two just nod. you felt awful, you two were the people she trusted most in this world.

“you’re right-“ you finally gain the courage to speak, but immediately getting cut off.

“not done talking” she scolds, saying your name in a warning tone. you pipe down.

your best friend’s eyes go to you. for such a cute girl, she sure knew how to make you tense up just from a look. her face softens suddenly.

“so, why did you feel the need to hide it from me? we both know you’re probably the only person i’d be comfortable with even dating my brother.” ami has a sort of frown on your face. it makes you sad the fact you hurt her.

“well we aren’t really even dating…”

“we’re not?” the brown haired man looks at you.

your eyes snap to rintarou.

“no, rin, we only hooked up like four times-“

“FOUR TIMES? it’s only been two weeks?- sorry my bad.” ami puts a hand over her mouth to quiet herself.

“well, yeah, but i was hoping-“

“is this really the time to talk about this right now?” you whisper to the man. he shuts up real quick. you look back to your best friend, giving her a genuine look.

“i’m sorry i hid it from you, ami. i guess we- well i at least was just scared you’d hate me or something. i never intended to lie or hurt you, we just got kinda caught up in it.” you honestly admit. she just nods, then glares at her older brother. “and you” she seethes. his eyes widen at her sudden switch up.

he may be her brother, but he's also a guy, and you are her best friend.

“my best friend? really, rintarou?” her arms are crossed over her chest, eyes boring into her brother’s head. rin sits up straight.

“look, i apologize for not telling you, truly, but i’m not sorry that i did it.” he says, looking back over to you. you drop your face into your hands. the man you loved was such an idiot.

ami sighs and speaks again after a few moments, making your head perk back up.

“i’m not upset. plus, it would be kinda hypocritical of me to be mad at you two.” she finishes, looking at you.

oh right. the miya twin…

rin looks between the two of you.

“um, what do you mean?” he has a curious but anxious look on his face, brows furrowed.

“you wanna tell him or should i?” his sister looks to you in consolance. you point at her. “this is your business, girl. all you”

she lets out an annoyed sigh before speaking, shifting uncomftorably between her feet.

“i’ve kinda been… talking to osamu since i graduated, but you can’t be mad becuase you’re also literally fucking my best friend soo…” ami says all in one breath. rintarou has an unreadable expression on his face.

“well, obviously.” he scoffs. both of your eyes widen.

“you knew?!” she yells in a suprised tone. he just nods.

“well no shit, he’s the one who told me to invite you to the party in the first place. plus i saw your name pop up in his phone when we went to lunch last week.” her brother explains. you just sit back and watch this uncomfortable situation unfold.

he looks at you. “you knew too?” he casually asks. you nod.

“well obviously, she’s my best friend.”

“hear that rin, my best friend” ami sticks her tongue out at her brother. you smile at the shift of the room, going from all serious to a sudden playfulness, the way ami always knew how to do.

“now go to your room or something, i wanna talk to her alone.” she points at the stairs for her brother to leave. he rolls his eyes, patting your head before leaving the room.

a few seconds pass, and she takes his seat, sitting next to you. she swirls the stool around to face you, voice dropping to a hushed tone.

“so… do you love him?” she curiously asks, with genuine curiosity.

“do you love osamu?”

“shut up, i asked first.”

“i do” you say without a second of thought. she just smiles. all anger from before subsiding into genuine happiness.

“you’re still gonna hangout with me though, right?” she asks, back to fidgeting with her fingers. you roll your eyes.

“of course i am. i’m still sleeping in your room everynight till i leave-“ you start.

“oh c’mon, she doesn’t get to hog you!” rintarou yells from the stairs, eavesdropping on your conversation. you both glare at him.

“no one asked you, rin!” she yells. you both laugh at the way he storms back up the stairs.

she'd be having a talk with him later too.

you talk about everything. osamu, the party, your plans in the next week before you leave.

you were relieved, your guilty conscience completely lifted from having to keep this secret from your best friend. you never expected her to approve, but she was happy both her best friend and her brother are able to find comfort.

plus she knew he had a fat crush on you the way he was staring at you the entire party the night before. she was drunk, but not stupid. her brother was so obvious. maybe it was just a suna thing.

but the thought that you gave him all those marks weeks ago made her shiver. gross.

there was only three days left until you go back. you’ve spent your last days going on mall trips, to the movies, taking walks in the park with your best friend. (and rintarou when he refused to stay at home, saying it was for your guys’ ‘protection’)

he just wanted to spend as much time near you before you left.

“stop moving” you warn rintarou, placing the sheet face mask onto his constantly jerking head.

“it’s cold…” he complains. you just roll your eyes.

“you’re the one who wanted to do this.”

“well yeah, because you were doing it.” he pouts. you giggle at him, your own skincare face mask soaking on your face.

ami left for osamu’s about an hour before, but not before giving you guys a ‘do NOT fuck’ warning. you both just smiled and nodded your heads.

“you’re cute.” you give him a small peck on his lips, one of the only parts that the skin care mask wasn’t covering. his hand reaches for your own, lacing his fingers with yours.

“be my girlfriend.” he softly says, his eyes meeting yours. you were glad this sheet mask was covering your face, or he’d see how flustered you were.

“what?”

“do you not want to?” he asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

“well of course i do, but i-“

“be my girlfriend then. please?” he squeezes your hand. if your face wasn’t covered he’d be holding it.

it was kind of silly the seriousness of this conversation compared to the way you guys had literal sheets on your face.

“i live three hours away, rin.”

“so what? i have a car. i’ll drive down every weekend to see you, baby.” he assures you. his eyes read nothing but honesty and love.

“i couldn’t ask you to do that… you're so busy with volleyball”

“you wouldn’t. i want to. if it was up to me i’d keep you here. or even go with you." he chuckles, "i'll pay for your train rides to come to my games, i’m graduating in two years, we’ll figure it out.” you could see his small smile. his fingers gently brushing over your knuckles.

“okay” you nod.

“okay?” his eyes light up.

“yes” you laugh, he stands up from his chair, leaning down to kiss you, but you two couldn’t do much with these stupid sheet masks.

“take this shit off i wanna kiss you” he rips his own off his face making you pout.

“you’re supposed to leave them on for ten minutes”

“i don’t care, they were like a dollar each” he scoffs, gently peeling your own soft wet mask from your face. he was the one who went into the makeup store with you earlier to purchase them in the first place.

“what a money waster.” you smile up at him. the skincare residue making your and his skin shiny. he couldn’t lie, your guys’ skin looks fantastic.

he grabs your face, finally giving you a real kiss. your lips meet sweetly. you’ve kissed several times by now, but this time was different. it was full of tenderness and love instead of the usual rushed tension.

it was like you have all the time in the world.

his hand reaches in your hair, deepening the kiss. you sigh when his tongue rolls together with your own. your hands plant at his chest, you could feel his muscles through his shirt.

he snakes his free hand around your waist, bringing you to press against him.

you felt your panties dampen when his hand slides down from your waist, to your hips, to your ass.

“so…touchy” you mumble between kisses. he just smiles.

“you make me like this” he replies, gently biting your lip.

your hands go up to tangle in his own hair, tugging slightly to tease him. he just groans.

“c’mere, baby.” he sits on his bed, reaching his arms out to you. you join him, hopping onto his lap and kissing his face.

“wow, your skin is really smooth…” your hand goes to gently caress his face. he leans into your palm like a cat, making you giggle.

his eyes never leave yours, so full of sincerity and love.

“want you to touch me, rin.” you bring his hand to your lower stomach. he just chuckles.

“now who’s the needy one?” he mumbles, kissing you again before his hand slips into the waistband of your pants into your panties, his middle and index fingers finding your clit.

“this wet just from kissing?” he chuckles at you, making you pout.

“m’sorry” you whisper, stuttering when his fingers rub gently at your sensitive bud.

“don’t be sorry, pretty. it’s hot.” he smiles, pulling you back to shimmy your cute pants down your hips. you help him, throwing them on the floor of his room.

you’re left in your his oversized t shirt and your panties, moving to sit on him on the bed, but he stops you. you give him a questioning look.

“wanna try something.” he lays himself on his bed, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“want you to sit on my face.” he cheekily smiles, your eyes widen, but your insides tingle at the thought of it.

“i don’t wanna hurt you…” you nervously gulp. he scoffs.

“i could lift three of you if i needed to. i’ll be fine, sweetheart.” he assures. you reluctantly climb on the bed, still a little scared you were going to suffocate him. like he reads your mind, he speaks.

“if dying by your pussy is where i’m meant to die, it’ll be an honorable death.” this makes you roll your eyes, peeling off your underwear. before you could throw them to the side, rin snatches them, tucking them in the drawer next to his bed.

“hey!” you scold him. he rolls his eyes.

“need something to remind me of you.” his smug smirk made you want to slap him, but also want to kiss him. you opted for the second option. your tongue’s swirling together in a needy messy kiss.

he pulls back, laying himself back on his bed. you let out a breath, crawling up to him and nervously straddling his face with your thighs, facing his legs.

you gasp when he pulls your hips down to seat yourself on his face, his hot tongue swiping over your slick cunt. your face screws into tight pleasure as his tongue prods into your tight hole, making you grind down into his face.

his strong hands hold your hips down as if you were hoping to escape. your eyes flutter open while his tounge switches between playing with your clit and proding into your weeping hole.

your mouth waters at the sight of his erection begging to be released through his sweatpants. poor guy was grinding up into nothing. you lean down, reaching to rub him through his pants, making him groan into your pussy.

you hurriedly push his pants down his hips, along with his boxers. he was so tall you couldn’t reach your mouth to his cock in this position, making you pout. so instead you take your hand and stroke his veiny cock, his moans being muffled by him sucking on your clit.

you pump his cock, using the slick of the precum beading at his tip to lubricate him. his hips stutter into your hands as your finger runs over his tip, the slit of his dick leaking precum over your fingers. fuck how badly you wanted to lick it up.

you moan when his tongue explores your soaking pussy, your hands continuing to tease his raging cock. the tip bright pink from all your teasing.

“feels so good, baby, fuck!” you whine, your hips instinctively rutting into his face. he moans in acknowledgment, urging you to keep touching him while he eats you out like you were his last meal. his grip on your hips never faltering.

your wrist starts to ache from the constant pumping, but the pure pleasure of him licking and sucking at you was all you could think about.

this position was so fucking good. the way he had nothing to do but eat you out until you were trying to lift yourself off of his face, the pleasure becoming too much.

he pulls you back down in an instant, your constant squirming earning you a harsh suck on your clit, making you whine.

“rinn-“ you mewl, your thighs starting to quiver around his head. you’re panting, the strokes on his cock getting quicker and messier.

“f-fuck… keep doing that and m’gonna cum, baby.” he groans into your wetness. you let go, hands gripping at his abs as you feel yourself become undone.

your hips grind uncontrollably into rintarou’s mouth, heat pooling into your lower belly as you feel yourself clench around nothing, the feeling of him suckling at your clit making you cum all over his mouth.

you let out moans of his name, panting before finally moving off of him to let him breathe.

you move yourself between his legs, looking up at him. his lower face was covered in your cum and he was breathing heavily. you licked your lips at the sight, bringing your attention back to his raging cock.

you smile up at him, giving his member small pecks, making his breath stutter.

“want you to cum in my mouth, rin.” you look up at him through your lashes, tongue delving into the slit of his head, making his hips sputter and hands grip in your hair.

you giggle, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. he lets out dirty groans and grunts, his grip in your hair only getting tighter and tighter.

he knew he was gonna cum soon, already being so worked up from you jerking him off before. that along with you cumming all over his face just a few moments before.

his hips jerk off the bed with a loud groan when you take him as deep as your throat allows you, hands gripping into his strong thighs. you moan when his salty cum shoots down your throat, practically filling your mouth. you swallow it all, only a dribble falling past your lips, swollen and wet.

once he settled, you pulled off of him with a small pop, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips and his cock. you could feel his piercing gaze on you, his grip on your hair turned into soothing strokes.

you hold back a giggle at the way he looked at you with full admiration in his eyes. like you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. he pulls you up, immediately connecting his lips with yours. the way you both tasted each others releases made you sigh into his mouth.

you laid on his chest, kissing eachother gently. you pull back, smoothing down his hair.

he speaks first, your name coming off the tip of his tounge like a beautiful hum.

“i love you” he breathes out, his eyes searching your own. your heart quickens in your chest.

“you don’t have to say it back-“ he starts.

“no. i love you, rintarou.” you confess, leaning to kiss his cheek. he gives you an uncharacteristically loving smile. you’d never seen him in this sort of light before.

your mind completely avoiding the fact that in three days time, you’d be hours away, long gone from here.

“you guys didn’t fuck, right?” ami scolds, eyeing you two as you three ate the dinner she so graciously brought home for you.

“nope. on our best behavior.” rin responds, giving your thigh a squeeze under the table.

well, technically he wasn’t lying.

masterlist

a/n: ‘i have plans that i cannot share w you right now, because the haters will sabotage me’ wink wink. only planning one or two (maybe even three) more parts of this *cries*

☆ taglist: @jennasquishy8 @nekee-lilac02 @riiceandsoup ☆

[livwritesstuff]

not exactly a happy one, and vaguely inspired by some stuff going on in my personal life

Eddie is pretty much constantly in awe of his oldest daughter Moe.

Granted, he’s in awe of all three of his kids, albeit for different reasons across the board, but Moe in particular because of how nothing gets to her. It’s kind of crazy, honestly, the way she can roll with the punches – it’s actually very Steve-like, and she's basically his double so that makes sense, but where Steve was doing it out of necessity, Moe seems to be innately unbothered by even the worst that life has thrown at her, and in all his years of raising her, there have been only two occasions where Eddie has seen Moe unable to immediately shake something off.

The first time was when the girls got their results back from at-home genetic tests and found out that Moe has a different bio-dad from her younger sisters.

The second time is now, after Moe learned that she didn’t pass the Bar Exam.

She didn't react great, obviously, and Eddie can admit his dismissive, "No way," when she told them probably hadn't helped at all but, in his defense, she made it through law school with as close to flying colors as one can get in goddamn law school, and she's been working her ass off studying for the Bar, so none of them had expected her to not pass. When she only looked blankly at her laptop screen for a moment before saying, "Fuck, I failed," as her head fell into her hands...yeah, Eddie sort of thought she was kidding.

"C'mon Moe," he'd continued after his entirely tactless no way, "Don't fuck with us about this."

And Moe had just given him a betrayed kind of look before shoving her chair out from the table and storming away.

A moment or two later, Steve had mumbled, "Shit, she actually didn't pass," sounding a bit perplexed as he looked at Moe's laptop like the big, red FAILED might suddenly change to something else.

They gave Moe a couple minutes before following after her.

“Hon,” Steve begins when they find her sulking (in the laundry room, of all places), “I’m sorry. I remember from my psych stuff what this shit is like. I get how –”

“No, you don’t!” Moe exclaims, “You don’t get it because you passed your test on the first fucking try even though you’ve got, like, brain damage or some shit.”

Moe misses the hurt look that passes over Steve’s face for a moment before he’s able to mask it.

Eddie does not.

“That’s how low the–”

“Alright,” Eddie interrupts, and he tugs Moe back by the hood of her sweatshirt, ignoring her protests as he begins ushering her down the hall and out the door.

He corrals her all the way out to the car parked in the driveway, opens the passenger-side door with one hand and shoves Moe into the car with the other.

“What the–” Moe protests. 

“Can it,” he cuts her off, slamming the door on whatever retort she might have had for him.

Once he's in the driver's seat and the car is rumbling to a start, he turns to look at her.

“I understand that you're upset, Moe. I really do, but you do not get to take that out on Pop,” Eddie told her, “He’s way too good to you for that.”

Moe has the decency to look somewhat mollified even though she doesn't saying anything (which has always been a tell-tale sign that she knows she's in the wrong), and as Eddie throws the car in reverse and starts backing out of the driveway, she curls in on herself, leaning against the car door.

Eddie drives for a while with no real destination in mind (same as twenty-something years ago when Moe was a baby and Eddie would drive aimlessly around Cambridge in the hopes she'd maybe doze off).

After ten or so minutes of silence, Moe quietly says, “Literally everyone else I was in school with passed.”

Eddie glances at her, and does a double-take when he sees that she’s scrolling on goddamn Instagram. He reaches over to yank her phone out of her hand and toss it behind him into the depths of the back seat where it lands with a questionable clatter.

“Dad – what the fuck?” Moe looks at him, “If that’s broken now–”

“Then we get it fixed,” Eddie replied, “Or we buy another one. I don't care. Moe – when the fuck did you ever give a shit about other people?”

Moe gives a minute shrug as she looks away again.

“It’s been a point of contention with you basically since birth,” Eddie continues, “Seriously, it’s – and do not tell your father I said this, but it’s my favorite thing about you and I never want it to change.”

Again, Moe mostly ignores this.

"I get that this is disappointing and I get that it’s a setback and there's nothing any of us can say to make it better, but take it from someone who needed three tries to graduate high school — screw everyone else. Screw 'em. It's okay if something takes a little longer than you wanted it to.”

Eddie pauses, because there’s a lot he’s not saying here, stuff about how his third try at his senior year was hell on earth in pretty much every way possible, but how he also knows that if he hadn’t gone through it he wouldn’t have made life-long friends in Robin and Nancy. He wouldn’t have Steve and he wouldn't have everything about their life together the way it is today.

He settles on adding, “Sometimes you get a whole lotta good out of it in the end.”

After a moment, Moe actually nods, which Eddie takes as a victory.

"So...take the time you need to be disappointed or sad or angry or whatever. When you’re feeling better – or even when you’re not – you gotta apologize to Pop, okay?”

“Okay.”

Eddie glances at her again.

"You wanna stop and grab stuff to make margaritas?" he asks.

"God, yes."

[onepiecestarry]

BNHA/MHA Fluff HC

Fluff headcanons:

In order: Bakugo, Denki, Jiro, Kirishima, Mindoriya, Mina, Momo, Ochaco, Sero, Shoji, Todoroki, Tokoyami, Tsu

Bakugo: 

Bakugo would love to torture you with horror movies because it was funny to see your reactions, but mostly because he loved you jumping into his arms at the sight of something scary. He would gently wrap his arm around you while you hid under the blanket, of course while laughing at you. 

He is fiercely defensive of you, even if it's hard for him to admit to other people that you both are dating. If he even hears a whisper of slander towards you, he challenges whoever said it even if they are a pro. (Making work studies extremely difficult with him)

You love to steal his shirts and sweatshirts, he claims it's annoying and you need to go to your own closet. But what he doesn’t tell you is how he loves seeing you walk around with it on. Letting everyone know you're his without having to tell them.

Denki:

Denki can be dumb, extremely dumb, but he tries his hardest for you. He would try to cook dinner for you, only for it to end up burnt and inedible. This would put both of you into a giggle fit until you eventually just order pizza. 

You and Denki are the worst combo in the dorms because all you both do is prank people or accept dares. You are the other half of his brain but unfortunately, that means you both only have half of one. 

Denki and your relationship would feel so natural that you both and everyone else would feel like you have dated for your entire lives. 

Every time you left your phone alone with him he would take hundreds of photos on your phone, and then he would charge it for you.

Jiro:

Jiro would obviously write songs for you and playfully show you them. You both would make silly wallpapers for each other's phones. (Think like the lipstick heart pictures). She would brag about you to anyone around willing to listen. 

Some nights you both would sit and make bracelets for each other while listening to music and talking. 

Jiro would let you do her makeup or draw on her whenever you wanted, she loved looking at her arm and seeing all your doodles. 

Kirishima: 

Kirishima would show you off to anyone and everyone, when you first got together everyone immediately knew because he couldn’t keep his hands off you. If it was an arm around you or holding your hand, he would constantly be touching you in some way. 

You both would play video games against each other for hours, he would let you win just to see you smile.

Every few weeks or so Kirishima’s hair would grow out so you would sit and redye it for him. Eventually, he convinced you to do a streak of red in your hair to match. Now you both have red hair, he loves seeing that streak, reminding him of how much he loves you.

Midoriya:

Midoriya and you would study together constantly, him oblivious to your moves on him. Eventually, you got fed up and just told him and he was shocked and blinked at you for a few seconds before freaking out. Shortly after his freak-out, you both started dating. 

You would mostly have study dates and sit next to each other enjoying each other's presence. 

When you got bored you would braid his hair and play with it. It would relax him so much he would often fall asleep while you did it. 

He would buy you little gifts of things that reminded him of you and leave them with little notes in your room. 

Mina: 

Mina was your best friend before you started dating, so you two were as close as can be. You both would spend your nights watching trashy shows and making fun of the characters. Or you would play card games together. Mina loves to paint your nails knowing you show them off to everyone. 

Whenever she had a show (for dance) you would make a big sign and stand right in front so she could always see you cheering her on. 

Some days you both would try to bake something and often it would end up poorly, but you both always had fun. Flour on your faces, giggling on the kitchen counter. You both understood each other more than anyone else.

Momo: 

Momo would always bring you tea at night, no matter what you both were doing. She would show up at the library with a thermos if she had to. 

You would always find new tea for her to try and gift her a little note with it. She often would pack lunches for you, with cute little animal cutouts, or heart-shaped vegetables. 

You both would read books and annotate them for each other and then switch to read the other’s. It would result in a lot of inside jokes and memories.

Ochaco: 

Ochaco would draw little doodles in class and pass them to you for you to add to them. She would buy you matching keychains for your backpacks. 

You often ended up sharing clothes since you were the same size. She loves to steal your hoodies and sweaters. 

Each morning she does your hair for the day, if it's a braid, or straightening it. She loves to play with your hair. 

She took up knitting to knit you blankets knowing you love blankets to cuddle up in. It took her a while but eventually, she started making very nice blankets for you both to snuggle in. 

Sero: 

You and Sero are total goofs around each other, never able to stop laughing at each other. 

Each night you would always end up either in his bed or yours, it wasn’t often you slept alone. You would wake up completely wrapped by him. 

He would make tiktok edits of you and then show you super excitedly to see your reaction. 

He loves when you wear lipstick because he always makes you kiss his cheek so he can walk around with a lipstick mark on his face. 

He often would give you his hoodies to wear, encouraging you to wear his clothes.

Shoji: 

He would learn how to do your hair for you, whether it's dying it or braiding, he learned it all so he could spend that time with you. 

You would love to cuddle with him since he could wrap all of his arms around you, and you would just be absorbed in his warmth. 

You often repair his shirts, since it is hard for him to find ones that fit properly, so you love to sew up any tears for him. 

Whenever he sees you’re sad he always makes your favorite food and bakes your favorite dessert. 

Honestly just total princess treatment.

Todoroki: 

Todoroki isn’t very good at showing emotions so he would show his love in other ways. He always leaves a glass of water by your bed in case you wake up thirsty. 

He studies with you before every test, and you both help each other in places you’re lacking. 

You love to take him to the mall and dress him up in different ways, he usually acts clueless but secretly loves the attention to detail you give him. 

During winter you are usually freezing, so he has you cuddle his left side so he can gently warm you up. 

One year for Christmas he didn’t know what to get you, so he bought matching sweaters and shirts for you both. You now make him wear them every week. 

Tokoyami:

Tokoyami loves to watch you draw, you usually end up throwing away your silly doodles, but he always finds them and puts them up by his desk. Whenever he misses you he just looks through all the drawings he watched you make. 

You also love to put cutesy Sanrio stickers all over him, you think it's funny seeing such a gloomy person covered in pink and glitter. 

Tokoyami enjoys being with you no matter what you both are doing. 

Tsu: 

She takes you to the local botanical garden to look at all the plants and bugs. You usually end up in the butterfly garden with her for hours. 

You both decided to start a garden together and spend a lot of your free time together caring for it. 

During the summer, you and Tsu go to the local river to swim or kayak or really do any water sports. You both love to be in the water and often go swimming together. 

During the school year, Tsu knows you always need a snack between classes so she keeps one on her to give you when you get hungry. And it somehow always ends up being your favorite.

[edensfixations]

hehe imagine if Deku had a twin sibling who was a big Hawks fan (but is more low-key about it) and coincidentally had a recessive quirk that gave them 2 pairs of retractable wings

AHH i LOVE these platonic au's!

we're going bullet point form!

• izuku has a twin sister? 🤨 her name? isaki!!

• isaki, just like her brother, doesn't hold much height! she's around 5 feet tall, very defensive about it! she's got the same green curly hair but longer! she has freakles and glasses (courtesy of her reading late at night in the dark and unlucky genetics.)

• anyway, contrary to her brother, she has a quirk. she got it when she was five and absolutely went batshit crazy when feathers sprouted out of her back a random saturday morning. she ran straight to izuku and he was no help whatsoever. he screamed louder than her!

• over the years her quirk has grown and developed! for a bit she ended up randomly floating causing a massive panic to her mother and amusement from her brother. her wings had grown into large black wings that resembles a crows.

• she's gained many nicknames from people. from her mother, dove. from her brother, saki and raven! katsuki however calls her shadow for an array of unfortunate reasons but at least she doesn't get the same treatment as her brother!!

• when the midoriya twins turned 12 a new hero made his way onto the scene! an 18 year old with his own company??!?!? suddenly in the top 10 in only 6 months???? WHAT?!?

• hawks having an amazing reputation like this immediately after debuting had him have eyes on him constantly! and isaki wasn't any different!

• while her brother was OBSESSED with all might since they were kids, she had only idolised him a bit. he was 100% her biggest inspiration and thought only the most highly of him but she never wanted to be a hero until she saw hawks! I mean she practically bounced off the walls when she saw someone with a similar quirk!

• over the next 2 years she had slowly built a merch a collection, a pathetic one really because she mostly used her pocket money for food and books while her brother never really used his money for anything but all might!

•her merch collection includes a few posters, 3 hoodies, an action figure and a bobble head as well as some limited edition sneakers that she'll NEVER admit she qued overnight for.

• similar to her twin brother, she also keeps a little notebooks. she however keeps about 4? 2 for hawks and 2 for everyone else. after deciding she'd like to follow her quirkless brother and his deranged frenemy to ua, she starts assessing some of her favourite heroes, namely hawks and his techniques and how to utilise them.

• so from ages 13-15 you'll just see an isaki midoriya flying around in her backyard practicing moves she learnt from hawks via the internet.

• when izuku had started his 10 month intense training with a mystery man izuku hadn't told her about, she decided to start her own 10 month training. hers however contained a gym and her doing combat training with whoever was training there too and up for it! there she met tenya iida! story for another time.

• however, about 5 months into her training, she had particularly drained herself that day. because of this she was barely paying attention to her surroundings. it was quite a shock to her when she had been suddenly grabbed from the ground and sped off about a block away when where she once was!

• who was it? pro hero hawks of course! naturally, isaki was completely star struck. she could not BELIEVE who was standing in front of her right now!!! she was barely listening to him warning her to watch where she's walking so she doesn't get run over by a car (she walked into traffic, whoops!) she snapped out of trance when she heard him say, "nice wings, kid" before he was gone.

•isaki flew home and screamed into her pillow!!! she couldn't believe that happened! HE COMPLIMENTED HER WINGS!!!!!! she was so close to him! practically hugging him! (delusion)

• upon her screaming her mother and brother enter her room, curious, afraid and wanting answers.

• she looks up from her pillow, pink faced and hyperventilating, "HE SAID I HAVE NICE WINGS!!" her wings start fluttering creating a small breeze. it's a small habit she picked up from when she was little. her little family chuckled at her words. "Who??" "That guy from the gym??" "NO HAWKS. I CAN DIE HAPPY."

• isaki is now laying on the ground while her brothers jaw is slack and her mother leaves, giggling to herself.

• "YOU MET NUMBER 3 HERO HAWKS??!!" "YEAH WHEN I ACCIDENTALLY ALMOST WALKED INTO TRAFFIC!!!!" "WHAT?!"

• needless to say, she wore her hoodie and limited edition sneakers to bed that night.

(pls send requests I loved doing this so muchhhh!!)