#i’m glad i’m not apart of any.
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sanjisblackasswife · 10 months ago
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i just want to comment on your post about the jjk fandom and just…. yes. like let’s be honest, yuta is NOT dating anyone! rika wouldn’t even let maki, inumaki, and panda get close at first, what makes people think he’s going to be able to have a relationship??? and gojo, i love my white haired silly man but he’s not this sex god that everyone sees him as. that man came out of the womb and the world was AGAINST HIM. ik this is about jjk but it just reminds me of when people see law or zoro as these mean dominant men. like they probably could but let’s be honest, you stare at zoro and he gets flustered!! like ugh i get that it’s fiction and everyone can paint a character how they want but when it’s so fucking far fetched i just can’t anymore. sorry for the rant, you can completely ignore this
no no
i agree with the first part tho i will say
I think yuta and maki are cute together whether they are canon or not jdksjskns
but as for the gojo thing he’d be canonically very good at sex because he perfects anything he tries but ik he isn’t a damn player and gets pussy a lot. I KNOW THAT MUCH
nOw as for law/zoro agree 1000000%. Law can’t flirt worth a damn n i will stand on that let alone be some kinda mean man to his girl same w zoro.
he got flustered over the smallest things….a literal himbo.
i feel like u can mischaracterize a character to an extent. i understand some ooc hc/fics but some are so bad i wish i could sue for defamation of character cuz wtf is that.
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i-like-forcefem · 2 months ago
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hey, how would you define forcefem? because I like the idea of being forced to look like a girl, but I still see myself as a dude internally so any sort of permanent changes I guess is kinda disconcerting to me. (sorry if this is kinda weird, its my first real ask on tumblr)
Mhm! I think forcefem has 2 big categories (with plenty of sub categories
1) Aimed at cuties who like the Gender Euphoria, the fantasy of someone turning you into the girl you always were, grabbing your head feeding you hrt, buying you a new wardrobe telling you you’re loved and beautiful, sometimes they do it with force, sometimes they only give a gentle nudge and you’ll start running
1 is wholesome :3
2) Is aimed at cuties who like the Humilation, the frilly dresses, the pink bows, the hard to walk in shoes, cuties who want to be a toy, someone to be made fun of, powerless and pretty and nothing more then a doll, degraded and praised for who they have been turned into, not a woman, a Girl
2 is hot! I personally prefer 2 in a kinky context, but I definitely love and value 1 a lot too!
(If you feel your tastes lie outside these 2 main categories please tell me!!! Or if you feel my definition is lacking for another way talk to me too!!! I want to understand forcefem and why people love it!!!)
Now for a simple definition you’d end up with something really broad: Forcefem is the kink or fantasy of being forced (by a person, government or anything out of the POV characters control) to become more feminine
Which kinda tells you nothing!
But establishing what people like in forcefem is a lot more useful! (To me at least)
Now going back to you anon: you’re in an interesting spot, I’ve got 3 suggestions
1) reflect on what specifically you like about forcefem, the humilation? The unconditional love? The loss of control? The cute outfits? Maybe make a list off all the forcefem stories and posts that really stuck with you, what do they have in common? What does being forced to be a girl mean to you? Why is it hot?
2) truly consider that you might be a girl! Maybe get some distance from kink for a little while! See how you feel if I call you anon a Cutie! You’re Good Girl for considering it right now
3) come talk to me more in DMs! I’m curious about your exact experience
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throwawayasoiafaccount · 3 months ago
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magic in asoiaf is genetic. and that is intresting. and the fact that grrm doesn’t shy away from the implications of this makes me love asoiaf even more.
because it’s very understandable that these people who could ride dragons would see themselves as more gods than men. it’s understandable that the practice of sibling-sibling incest would become common in order to keep this ability in the family/to not lose said ability. it’s also understandable that these people would see their race as superior because they are able to do these things that others could not.
it also makes complete sense that this human civilization collapsed in a horrific magical event due to their own hubris because they saw themselves as gods when they were always only men.
and that is peak world building.
some more peak world building is that the noble houses of westeros also clearly gained power and held onto their power through the use of their magical abilities inherited from their ancestors.
a godlike existence like Garth the Green being the ancestor of all the oldest and most noble of the reach houses makes perfect sense for this world!and it also makes sense that the lords without this ancestry are discriminated against in this region that still holds onto the values their society cultivated in the past in order to maintain their magical superiority, even though most of these noble and old houses no longer exhibit these abilities.
and it also makes sense that these people no longer have access to these abilities as they no longer practice the religion that was centered around these powers; plus their blood is simply diluted at this point as these houses have married into a different ethnic group so often that the magical gene just doesn’t surface anymore.
but the fact that it still matters if you can trace your ancestry back to Garth the Green? peak! peak! peak!
george does such an excellent job showcasing the stagnation of westerosi society here because why should it matter if you’re connected to this magic guy if magic is no longer commonplace? however, it also makes total sense that the ruling class of the reach still harps on and on about this as it’s how they maintain the status quo and differentiate themselves from those they consider lesser now that they no longer have access to magic themselves.
and this is also why it’s very important that the Starks still retain the blood of the first men. because the first men interbred with the children of the forest and other elder races, which is what gave these humans these powers. it’s also worth noting that before the direwolves connected with the Stark children, none of our current Starks were able to awaken their abilities by themselves, which shows that even now they are very far removed from their ancestor who’s genetic makeup gave this bloodline these abilities. and it makes sense that the Starks experienced this slow magical decline because magic itself was declining in the world after the doom of valyria.
another reason for this decline is because Andal culture started heavily influencing the North and slowly changed the way magic was perceived. so now in the present, a warg/skinchanger/greenseer has become something to fear being because that’d make you different and therefore puts your life at risk, which means that there’s now practically no safe environment to cultivate these abilities and no secure way to pass down any knowledge you do have about said abilities.
i can’t help but be reminded about how Jon Snow has rejected his nature and how that has led to the stagnation of his abilities, and then i think about Arya and Bran and how their new environments have led to an astonishing growth in their abilities, which shows that it’s not just genetics that matter, environment is also just as, if not more, important.
i bring all of this up because magic being genetic in asoiaf is not as problematic as people try to make it out as. in real life, sometimes people just have genetic gifts. some people can become olympians, and some people are disabled. some people are born 10 times smarter than the average human, and some people believe that covering their faces in lemon juice would turn them invisible. that is reality. and in this universe, some people have access to magic and some don’t, and it’s all based on genetics. it’s unfair! and that makes it realistic.
not everyone gets to ride dragons and not everyone gets to travel back in time, and that grounds asoiaf, which is what grrm was going for.
and how these societies have organized themselves in response to these genetic abilities and the dangers they pose makes absolute sense. on one hand we have the valyrian freehold, which was a magic hotspot and the people who lived there used magic to propel their society to new heights, and on the other hand we have the seven kingdoms that demonize anyone too different, and all magic practitioners are different from normal humans.
and the fact that george decided to go this route with asoiaf is so juicy to me cause:
we have characters like Varamyr and Euron who use their abilities to commit great evils and we know that their powers have influenced the way they see and interact with others. on the other hand we have characters like Dany who use their abilities to fight against evil violent institutions. and through characters like her we learn how vulnerable fledgling magic practitioners/characters with these abilities are to these older and more dangerous institutions and individuals who are perfectly aware about the knowledge gap between them and these younger characters and know exactly how to exploit them.
so, while it’s understandable that the fandom is uncomfy with the practices and values that grrm has written about, this isn’t bad world building by any means. it’s logical and well thought out. and i truly enjoy that grrm doesn’t shy away from writing about the more worrying aspects and implications of magic being a matter of genetics. i also like how the seven kingdoms and the valyrian freehold are kinda extremes on the matter of magic and how this is/was detrimental to both of these societies and at the individual level. a horrific magical firey doom is not any better nor any worse than a slow drawn out icey decline.
imo, what is important to remember is that in the world of asoiaf, people with magic are the ones who are discriminated against (bc most POV characters are in Westeros and magic is a no no there). so they are the ones who are in danger if they out themselves as magic users. now, it is true that some societies are more tolerant (Qarth is a great example of this and Valyria before the doom was likely the most tolerant to have ever existed in this world), but as of now most societies simply aren’t. remember jojens warning? he didn’t pull that out of his ass. bran would’ve been in a lot of danger if he came out and told the wrong people about his dreams/abilities. also, jon’s assassination may have been partly motivated by the mutineers fear of wargs. this is the life-threatening danger magic practitioners are in for simply existing in an intolerant society.
tbh the reason i typed all this up is because it’s very annoying when people try to ignore the reality, which is that the dragonbond depends on genetics. now, i’m sure there are other ways to ride a dragon, as dragons are magical animals so of course there may be a one in a million chance of a dragon allowing some rando to ride it, but this doesn’t change the fact that there is such a thing as a genetic ability that gives these certain humans the ability to form a connection with a dragon.
(another example that i can’t help but remember is that melisandre was able to get ghosts approval by using some of her tricks. of course there could be other reasons for ghost to have done this, but the most likely reason is that ghost simply fell for melisandre’s trick and this influenced how jon saw mel. but this doesn’t change the fact that melisandre will never have the kind of bond jon and ghost have because melisandre is not a warg. this is also another example of how vulnerable fledgling magic practitioners are to older ones.)
so, sorry not sorry that george decided to create a realistic representation of what a society would look like if only certain bloodlines were able to ride dragons <\3.
#this is interesting! it’s juicy! because these are humans with the power of gods!#of course there was a civilization where the elites saw themselves as gods!#of course their powers impacted the way they structured their society!#of course the stagnant westerosi society still holds onto values and practices from hundreds of years ago#…because they once had magical abilities that set them apart. and bc their society is so stagnant they still have these values and practices#…after they lost their magical abilities. and it makes complete sense that these magical abilities were lost!#magic is feared in westeros! anyone with these abilities is othered/an outcast. these inherent powers aren’t cultivated bc this is a society#…that fears and persecutes people with magic! and it makes total sense that this likely began with the arrival of the andals!#anyways magic is genetic ✌️#and it’s so cool that so many people in this universe may not know that they have these powers bc they live in a society that doesn’t care/#doesn’t cultivate said powers. jon snow is literally called a beast by other characters bc they think he’s a warg#westeros is not a safe space for my magical son#i’m ready to fight anyone who disagrees#it’s literally so fucking intresting and i’m glad that george doesn’t shy away from any of it#asoiaf#pro targaryen#asoiaf meta#also let’s not pretend that warging/greenseeing hasn’t been used for horrible things as well#hodor is right there. legends of the nights king show exactly what can happen when a very powerful greenseer is a horrific human#yeah anyways#maybe he wasn’t a greenseer but u get my point (i hope)#asoiaf fandom critical#ppl having issues w/ the dragonbond being genetic has always struck me as odd#but i’d lie if i said i didn’t know where this attitude came from#this whole post is a mess lmao#hopefully i got my point across but i dont rly care to edit 🤷‍♀️#this is def a word vomit
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itspileofgoodthings · 5 months ago
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cause it wasn’t sexy once it wasn’t forbidden!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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novaknicks · 23 days ago
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knicks don’t play for another two days what’s the point anymore
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king-rydacted · 1 month ago
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I see that there’s a bit of contention in the decameron tag so I’m sorry to avid fans of the Decameron (Boccaccio, 1353) but I’ve never read any of the original and the only adaptation I’ve ever seen is Decameron (Netflix, 2024) and therefore I think it’s a perfect tragicomedy and I have zero critiques
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gothamghostwhispers · 9 months ago
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It’s been 0 days since my last mugging
Luckily it was on my way back from shopping so I’m only out ten bucks
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charmac · 9 months ago
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X
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cyborg-sabi · 1 year ago
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Writing again for the first time since my last job? It’s more likely than you’d think
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afterthedreamer · 2 years ago
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brunchable · 21 days ago
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𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 [ 2 ]
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Part One Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Sexual Innuendo/humour,Guy next door, situational comedy? Sexual Themes 18+ ONLY: fingering, cunnilingus, Bucky loves tiddies, dirty talk. Summary: Though you've become oddly close to SergeantBarnes, it's still difficult to act normal around him. A/N: I didn't think many would ask for a part two but here you go. divider by @cafekitsune
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It was a peaceful evening in the apartment gym—or, at least, it was supposed to be. You had your plan: thirty minutes on the stair climber, some stretches, and you’d be out of there before any awkwardness could find you.
But then you heard it—the unmistakable sound of weights clanging, followed by a deep, low grunt that made your entire body freeze.
You glanced up, hoping against hope that it wasn’t who you thought it was. But, of course, there he was: Bucky, over at the hip thrust machine, setting up his weights directly in front of you. Perfect, you thought. Of all the machines in here, he has to pick the most… suggestive one.
Your eyes flicked back to the tiny screen on your machine. Stay focused, you told yourself. Don’t look. Just ignore him.
But the moment he started his set, you heard it—a low, powerful grunt that practically reverberated through the gym. You immediately bit down on your lip, forcing yourself to stare straight ahead, pretending you weren’t having flashbacks to his other kind of workouts.
Another deep grunt.
Your hands clenched the stair climber’s handles like a lifeline. Do NOT look, you told yourself, the mantra echoing in your mind. But your treacherous eyes slid sideways, just for a second, and you caught a glimpse of him, face focused, breaths heavy as he powered through each hip thrust. The guy was practically a one-man gym commercial.
You looked away, focusing on your steps—your very uneven, slightly panicked steps. It’s just a hip thrust, for crying out loud! Nothing unusual here, you told yourself, trying to stomp out the heat creeping up your cheeks. But every time he exhaled, your mind filled with images of… well, his other performances.
Then, in the middle of one of his reps, Bucky let out a particularly deep, guttural grunt that nearly threw you off balance. Your foot slipped, your rhythm stuttered, and in a moment of pure panic, you clutched the handles and stumbled forward, practically throwing yourself onto the machine.
“Shit!” you yelped, fumbling to regain your balance as your legs moved faster than your brain, desperately trying not to faceplant.
You heard Bucky chuckle, that low, infuriatingly amused laugh, and felt your cheeks practically ignite. You looked up, heart pounding, only to find him smirking in your direction, eyes dancing with mischief.
“Careful there, Y/N,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Stair climbers are brutal.”
“Oh, yeah, totally!” you squeaked, straightening up, trying to look like you meant to almost eat it. “Just… keeping things interesting. Got to keep the cardio exciting, you know?”
“Looks like it’s working,” he replied, wiping his forehead with a towel, his grin widening as he noticed your death grip on the machine. “You sure you’re good over there?”
“Oh, I’m… I’m great,” you lied, your face flaming as you tried to regain your composure. But he wasn’t done with you yet.
“Glad to hear it,” he said, voice way too smooth. He paused, then tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Gotta admit, though… this machine setup does feel a bit familiar.”
Your brain nearly exploded. Did he just—? He couldn’t mean… But his eyes sparkled with that infuriating, knowing look, and you knew exactly what he was hinting at. Your face went beet red as your foot slipped again, but this time you managed to catch yourself, narrowly avoiding another disaster.
“Uh-huh,” you said, laughing nervously, desperately trying to hold it together. “Well, enjoy your… uh, workout!”
“Oh, I am,” he said, chuckling softly. “Especially with the view.” He winked, setting up for another set while you tried not to spontaneously combust.
With one final, mortified glance, you turned your attention back to the stair climber, mentally swearing you’d never step foot in this gym again after this.
Since you survived the stair climber ordeal without faceplanting (barely), you decided it was time to move on. Somewhere—anywhere—that didn’t involve Bucky’s hip thrusts or his incessant, maddening smirk.
You zeroed in on the bench press. Safe, you thought, relieved. Just a standard exercise. Nothing suggestive, no chance of stumbling, tripping, or looking like a klutz. You grabbed the bar, took a deep breath, and mentally prepped yourself. Easy-peasy.
And then—because the universe simply refused to give you a break—you heard that all-too-familiar voice right beside you.
“Need a spot?”
You looked up and almost swallowed your tongue. There was Bucky, looming over you with that same damn smirk, wiping his hands on a towel like he was gearing up for some personal training session from your worst/best nightmares.
“Oh, uh… I—” you stammered, already feeling the heat creep up your neck. You’ve got this, you told yourself. Just let him help you. No big deal. You’re a mature, fully-functioning adult.
“Yeah, sure!” you squeaked, trying to sound normal as he stepped closer, positioning himself behind the bench. You laid back, gripping the bar, and immediately realized what a horrible, terrible mistake this was. You were now lying flat on your back, Bucky leaning over you, his face far too close as he focused on making sure you could lift the weight.
“You ready?” he asked, his face all business, but his lips still had that mischievous curve.
“Ready,” you mumbled, eyes darting anywhere but up at him, trying to ignore how absolutely awkwardly intimate this felt. You started your set, breathing steadily as you lifted the bar, determined to act as if this were a completely normal workout.
But then, midway through the reps, he leaned down a little closer. “By the way, did you check out my new video?”
Your hands nearly slipped. You fumbled the bar, barely catching it as your brain short-circuited. 
“W-What?” you managed, voice strangled, heart racing.
“My new video,” he repeated, casually reaching out to help guide the bar back into place as you struggled not to lose it. “Thought you might’ve seen it by now.”
Your cheeks flamed, but you somehow managed to choke out, “N-No! I… I haven’t seen it!”
Bucky chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow as he straightened up, his voice taking on a teasing, almost disappointed tone. 
“Oh. That’s a shame,” he said, smirk lingering. “Didn’t have a costar this time—just me, actually. First time I’ve ever done that.”
Your mouth dropped open. Just him? Your brain skidded to a halt. Suddenly, you were far too interested in a video you’d just denied seeing. 
“Oh, um… interesting?” you squeaked, trying to keep your face neutral but definitely failing.
“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug, looking at you with twinkling eyes. “Guess you’ll have to let me know what you think… whenever you get around to it.”
“Actually, I… uh… I kind of stopped watching… since we, you know… know each other. Just… feels awkward.”
Bucky’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up with amusement. 
“Oh, so you’re telling me we’re too close for you to watch my work now?” He raised an eyebrow, looking mockingly offended. “I thought we were supporting local artists.”
Your cheeks practically combusted as he said it, and you fumbled with the bar, desperately trying to pretend you hadn’t heard him. Supporting local artists? Was he serious right now?
“Oh my god,” you mumbled, absolutely mortified. “This is not— You’re not— I mean…!”
But he just looked down at you, that smug grin firmly in place as he leaned in, clearly enjoying every second of your flustered state. 
“What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Don’t you believe in supporting the arts?”
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, words completely failing you. “This… this is not the same!” you finally blurted, clutching the bar like it was your only lifeline.
“Oh really?” he replied, chuckling. “Because it sounds like you’re saying we’re too close for me to keep doing what I do. You know, my passion.”
You practically choked, waving your hands around in frantic denial. “No! No! That’s not— I’m not stopping you! I’m just— I don’t know, maybe supporting from a… distant, supportive spiritual place?”
He laughed outright, shaking his head. “So, what—you’re like cheering me on… but from across the street?”
You nodded vigorously, still trying to save face. “Exactly! Just… supportive… but in a non-participatory kind of way.”
“Got it,” he said, smirking. “So, I’m officially your guilty pleasure now.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands as he chuckled, clearly far too pleased with himself. 
Note to self: Avoid all future conversations with Bucky Barnes for the rest of eternity.
× × × × 
That evening, you were finally settled at your dining table, a bowl of pasta in front of you, determined to put the entire gym disaster behind you. You’d survived another encounter with Bucky—barely—and now all you wanted was some quiet, non-embarrassing time with carbs.
But as you twirled your fork in the noodles, your brain betrayed you, replaying his words from earlier.
“Did you check out my new video?”
You paused mid-bite, the fork hovering near your mouth as you stared blankly at the wall, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and dread bubbling up. What could he have meant by “just me”? You tried to shake it off, forcing another forkful of pasta into your mouth. Nope, not going there.
But the thought lingered, nudging you, until you found yourself setting down the fork, fingers hovering over your phone. Just one quick search, you reasoned, glancing around your empty apartment as if someone might catch you.
You typed in the familiar site, thumbs hesitating above the search bar, nearly typing “SergeantBarnes new video” before you snapped back to reality, dropping the phone like it burned.
“Oh, no,” you muttered to yourself, horrified at how close you’d come. “Absolutely not. What am I, insane?”
You shoved another forkful of pasta into your mouth, shaking your head furiously. “I am not doing this.”
But as you continued eating, your eyes kept darting back to the phone, the curiosity gnawing at you, leaving you torn between common sense and the very persuasive power of nosiness.
You took a deep breath, clenching your fists. “Get a grip, Y/N. You are absolutely not watching that video.”
...But maybe just a preview?
You groaned, stuffing your face with more pasta, determined to win this internal battle.
× × × ×
The next morning, just as you were heading out the door for work, you spotted something bright and obnoxiously neon-colored taped to the wall near the mailboxes. Curiosity got the better of you, and you stepped closer, squinting at the bold, glittery letters.
POOL PARTY THIS WEEKEND! it proclaimed. Food, drinks, music, fun! Don’t miss it!
You raised an eyebrow, debating if you’d actually brave a building-wide party when suddenly, the quiet hallway was shattered by a loud, unmistakably ecstatic moan. The kind that could only mean one thing.
From none other than Bucky’s apartment.
You froze, eyes widening in disbelief. Is that—? Is he—?
A second moan, even louder than the first, confirmed it. This wasn’t just any moan; this was the sound of someone—some woman—having the time of her life. At what had to be eight o’clock in the morning.
“Oh, seriously?!” you hissed under your breath, glancing down the hallway as if there might be witnesses to this auditory ambush. Just then, the woman’s voice hit a pitch so high it practically reverberated off the walls.
You winced, clutching your bag like it could somehow shield you from this. Who even has that much energy in the morning? You took a step back, hoping to escape the sonic nightmare, but the moans only got louder, each sound more animated than the last.
You threw your hands over your ears, eyes squeezed shut as you muttered furiously to yourself. 
“Nope, nope, absolutely not. Not today, not right now.” You spun on your heel, practically power-walking down the hall, doing your best to drown out the soundtrack blaring from his apartment.
“YES, SERGEANT! OH MY GOD!”
You practically stumbled, muttering an alarmed, “Oh my god, stop!” as you picked up the pace, pressing your hands even harder against your ears. It was like some kind of cruel game—the closer you got to the elevator, the louder it seemed to get, echoing in your ears like a siren you couldn’t escape.
You winced, feeling your face burn as you all but sprinted down the hall, chanting, “Nope, nope, NOPE!” under your breath like a mantra. It was as if your feet couldn’t carry you fast enough, each step a desperate attempt to put some distance between you and… whatever was happening in that apartment.
Finally, you made it to the elevator, slamming your finger against the button with more force than necessary, glancing nervously over your shoulder as if the sounds might follow you. The doors mercifully slid open, and you dove inside, leaning back against the wall and pressing your hands over your ears one last time, breathing a sigh of relief.
But just as the doors began to close, one last triumphant shout echoed down the hallway, loud and clear, like the universe had decided you hadn’t suffered enough.
You groaned, staring up at the ceiling as the doors shut, wondering if this building had any quiet hours, or if you were doomed to start every morning with a full-blown soundscape of… Bucky’s extracurricular activities.
Note to self: Invest in earplugs. Maybe some noise-canceling headphones. Or a new apartment altogether.
× × × ×
You arrived at work looking like you’d barely survived a natural disaster. Traumatized, sleep-deprived, and still hearing the morning’s very loud soundtrack echoing in your mind, you slumped into your chair, hoping to quietly blend into the office scenery and get through the day in peace.
Naturally, that was too much to ask.
“Whoa,” Trish said, swiveling in her chair to eye you like you were a science experiment gone wrong. “You look like you just spent a night in a haunted house.”
“Or… like you had a wild morning,” Amy added, raising her eyebrows. “You okay there, Y/N?”
“Fine,” you muttered, barely making eye contact as you set your bag down, trying to erase the vivid flashbacks of Bucky’s… extremely enthusiastic co-worker.
Before you could even recover, Trish leaned in, her grin spreading like wildfire. “Sooo… did you finally get around to watching Sergeant Barnes’ new video?”
Your head snapped up, heart stopping in your chest. “Wha—no! Why would I… I mean… I—”
“Oh, come on,” Amy said, nudging you like she’d just caught you in a guilty pleasure. “You don’t know what you’re missing. He’s alone in this one.” She leaned closer, adding in a stage whisper, “The man has talent.”
“Uh-huh,” Trish agreed, nodding like a sage. “No costars this time. Just him, going all in. It’s… impressive.”
You clutched the edge of your desk, mentally scrambling for any kind of response that would shut them down without revealing the secret you swore you’d take to the grave: that Sergeant Barnes was actually your neighbor.
You swallowed, managing to squeak out, “You know we’re in an office, right? As in, the place we do work?”
“Oh please, don’t act like you’re all professional now!” Trish smirked, crossing her arms as she gave you a knowing look. “You were all too eager to do some ‘research’ when we told you about him the first time.”
“Yeah!” Amy joined in, her grin absolutely diabolical. “You should be thanking us! The way you’re looking right now, I’d bet you already took a look this morning.”
You spluttered, mortified. “No! I mean, of course not! It’s just—this is… inappropriate.”
Amy snorted, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh, sure. And here I thought you had a little curiosity.”
You glared, fully prepared to tell them off, but Amy cut in first, smirking as she leaned over your desk. 
“C’mon, Y/N, it’s just us girls. Tell me you don’t have some curiosity about what the man can do when it’s just him and the camera.”
You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, struggling to keep your cool. “No, I’m not curious! Not at all. And maybe you two shouldn’t be either, because, oh, I don’t know… WE ARE AT WORK!”
They both cracked up, sharing a delighted high-five as you buried your face in your hands, praying for the ground to open up and swallow you.
“Oh, we’re just messing with you,” Trish said, barely holding back laughter. “But seriously, girl… you look like you need to unwind. Maybe with a drink or… you know… a little quality screen time?”
“Or maybe someone live and in-person?” Amy chimed in, waggling her eyebrows.
You groaned, face down on your desk, cursing the fact that they would never, ever know the full story.
× × × × 
You stepped into the lobby, utterly drained from the day, just as the elevator doors began to slide shut. Without a second thought, you bolted, slipping in right before they closed. Only then did you realize the universe was playing tricks on you.
Because standing right there, with a half-smirk on his face and way too much knowing mischief in his eyes, was Bucky. Alone.
You froze, instantly regretting every choice that had led to this moment. But it was too late now, so you plastered on a polite smile and tried not to look like a deer caught in headlights.
Bucky’s eyes twinkled as he took you in, leaning casually against the side of the elevator as he said, “Tired?”
You laughed, and before you could stop it, the laugh turned into a borderline deranged chuckle. 
“Oh, yes, thank you very much,” you replied, sarcasm slipping out before you could rein it in. Then, muttering under your breath but clearly audible, you added, ���Maybe keep it down too… in the morning.”
He chuckled, looking way too amused. “Sorry about that. Work, you know? She, uh… went home right after, don’t worry.”
Your face went flaming hot, and you whipped your head to look straight ahead, pressing your lips together like that would somehow save you from this horror. 
“Oh, you don’t… you don’t have to explain it to me,” you stammered, feeling like your cheeks were practically on fire. “I’m not worried.”
The smirk only widened. “Good to know.” He leaned in just a little, adding, “I wouldn’t want to keep you up… unintentionally.”
You choked, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you let out a mortified laugh that you could barely stop from turning into a squeak. Just get to your floor, just get to your floor… you chanted internally, keeping your gaze laser-focused on the elevator doors.
But you could feel him watching you, could practically feel the amusement radiating off him as you tried to pretend that your life hadn’t just devolved into a rom-com nightmare.
Finally—finally—the elevator dinged at your floor. You stepped out, sighing with relief, only for Bucky to step out right behind you.
“Hey,” he called, making you pause and turn reluctantly. He was smiling, hands casually shoved into his pockets as he looked you over. “Are you coming to the rooftop pool party this weekend?”
“No,” you replied flatly, the answer escaping before you could even pretend to think about it.
He laughed, clearly not deterred. “Aw, come on. You sure? It’ll be fun.”
You shook your head vigorously, waving him off. “No, no, I’m good. I’m… not much of a party person.”
“Really?” he replied, stepping a little closer, his smile turning into something dangerously persuasive. “It’s just neighbors hanging out, not some crazy nightclub thing. Good music, food… probably no loud… work, either.”
You glared, suppressing an eye roll as he gave you a wink. “I’ll pass, thanks.”
“Oh, come on,” he said, still grinning. “If you don’t show up, who am I going to talk to about all the ‘work’ complaints?”
You stifled a laugh, trying to maintain your resolve. “Pretty sure there are other people you can bother with that.”
“But none of them have your… constructive feedback,” he replied, his gaze dropping to the floor as he pretended to look shy. “And honestly, I need someone to keep me in check. I’m a handful at parties. Who else is going to stop me from climbing onto tables?”
You snorted, crossing your arms as you tried not to crack a smile. “I highly doubt you’re a handful at a pool party.”
He raised an eyebrow, challenging you. “Come and find out.”
You looked away, shaking your head but feeling the corners of your mouth tug upward. “Bucky, I’m not going.”
“So, you’re saying you’ll leave me up there with all these people who… don’t know me as well as you do?” He tilted his head, giving you a mock-pout.
Your face turned red, and you sputtered, “I don’t know you! I barely know you!”
“Oh, so all those research sessions weren’t exactly getting to know me?” he replied, grinning as he watched you turn an even deeper shade of crimson.
“You—ugh, you’re impossible,” you muttered, finally laughing despite yourself.
“That’s what everyone says,” he said, his voice softening just a little as he held your gaze. “Come on, Y/N. I promise, no loud work. I’ll even save you a spot.”
You sighed, feeling the last bit of resistance crumble. “Fine. But only for an hour.”
He beamed, triumphant. “Deal. And who knows? Maybe we’ll find something to actually talk about… outside of work.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart did a little flip. This is going to be a disaster, you thought. But somehow, you didn’t mind as much as you thought you would.
× × × × 
The weekend took forever to arrive, but somehow, you survived it—mostly by avoiding Bucky and doing your best not to think about that ridiculously intriguing video he’d hinted at. Nope, not even a peek. It was your own personal victory, though it took every ounce of willpower you had.
And now, here you were, standing at the rooftop entrance, mentally psyching yourself up. You’d put on a two-piece swimsuit under a white sheer cover-up, feeling only slightly self-conscious as you stepped out. Only because you hated drawing attention to your body. 
The party was already in full swing, a mix of upbeat music and laughter filling the air. You scanned the crowd for a certain troublemaking neighbor, but no sign of him. Great, you thought, rolling your eyes. Bucky drags me up here, then vanishes like an ass. Typical.
You made a beeline for an empty lounge chair, setting down your bag and towel, hoping you’d have a chance to relax before anyone else noticed you. But just as you were about to sit, a deep voice called out.
“Hey there!”
You turned to see an equally impressive figure—a tall, muscular guy with a sun-kissed smile, striding over with a confident swagger. 
“I’m Johnny,” he said, flashing a grin as he handed you a cold glass of beer. “Welcome to the party.”
“Oh! Thanks,” you said, taking the glass, feeling only slightly overwhelmed by all the testosterone on this rooftop. “Nice to meet you, Johnny.”
“Likewise,” he said, eyes flicking over you with the appreciation of someone who knew exactly what he was looking at. “Didn’t expect to see a new face up here. I know most of the regulars.”
“Yeah, I… usually keep to myself,” you admitted, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze.
“Well, glad you’re here,” he said smoothly, gesturing to a chair beside yours. “Mind if I join you?”
Before you could answer, another familiar voice cut through the air, low and unmistakably amused. “Johnny.”
You turned slowly, bracing yourself for whatever cocky look Bucky had in store, but when you finally laid eyes on him, your brain just… stopped. No thoughts, head empty, because the second he strolled into view, you swore you heard the sultry opening saxophone of Careless Whisper start playing, echoing dramatically in your head like some corny, slow-motion rom-com entrance.
He moved in perfect sync to the imaginary music in your head, each step more absurdly cinematic than the last. This can’t be happening, you thought, but somehow, there he was—tan skin, swim trunks slung just right, and that damn casual shirt hanging open over his shoulders. The man looked like a vacation ad, except he was bringing you dangerously close to a heatstroke.
As he got closer, the sax solo in your mind reached ridiculous, life-altering levels of intensity. Why do you have to look like this? you thought, nearly choking on the vision before you. Bucky’s smirk turned into something almost smug, like he knew exactly what effect he was having, as if he, too, could hear the George Michael anthem of seduction playing in your head. You half-expected him to whip out an actual saxophone and start serenading you right there.
You swallowed, barely keeping yourself from drooling, and willed yourself to stay composed. Get a grip, you told yourself, though you were about 98% certain your jaw was on the verge of dropping.
“Sorry, Johnny,” he said smoothly, not even glancing at the other guy. “I think she already has company.”
You quickly tried to compose yourself, forcing a neutral expression as you willed your face not to betray the sheer catastrophe your brain was going through. 
“Oh, hey, Bucky,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t sound as strangled as you felt. Inside, you were practically screaming. Why do you have to look like a freaking Greek god, Barnes? It’s rude, honestly.
Johnny raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking between the two of you, clearly picking up on the tension. “You two know each other?”
Bucky leaned casually against the lounge chair next to yours, flashing a grin that practically oozed mischief. 
“You could say that. She’s my neighbor,” he said, his tone implying… well, all sorts of things. You immediately knew that everyone within earshot was definitely getting the wrong idea. “And I’ve been trying to get her to come out of her shell for a while now.”
Come out of her shell? You wanted to throttle him. But before you could retort, Johnny, ever the gentleman, just gave you a knowing wink and clapped Bucky on the shoulder. 
“Well, guess I’ll let you take over, then,” he said, sauntering off with an amused smile.
You sighed, turning to face Bucky, who looked all too pleased with himself as he settled in beside you, stretching out like he owned the place. 
“So, you made it,” he said, taking a leisurely sip of his drink as his eyes did a once-over that was a little too thorough.
“Yep,” you replied, your voice barely concealing your exasperation. “I showed up, just like I said I would. Where were you?”
He shrugged, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “Was just giving you a chance to make some new friends,” he said, his tone way too casual.
You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of the beer Johnny had given you. “Please. You just love making an entrance.”
He chuckled, clinking his glass with yours. “Can’t say you’re wrong about that.”
As he leaned back, his gaze lingered a little too long, making your cheeks heat up. 
“Nice cover-up, by the way,” he commented, smirk widening. “It’s… modest.”
You shot him a look, feeling suddenly self-conscious about the sheer fabric draped over your swimsuit. “Why, thank you. That was kind of the point.”
“Yeah?” he replied, his voice dropping just a notch. “Shame, though. Bet that swimsuit’s got a whole lot of personality under there.”
You practically choked on your drink, coughing as you glared at him. “You’re such a flirt, Barnes.”
He chuckled, clearly unbothered by your reaction. “Hey, just saying what everyone’s thinking.”
You settled back in your chair, determined not to let him get the upper hand. But as you sat there, pretending to ignore him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite everything, you were enjoying this game just as much as he was.
You took a deep breath, narrowing your eyes at Bucky, who was looking far too pleased with himself. 
“Like I said, just one hour,” you told him firmly, crossing your arms as if that would somehow fortify your resolve against whatever mischievous plans he undoubtedly had.
He raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning even more devilish. “Oh, I’m sure an hour will be more than enough.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “For what? So you can drive me insane and then sit back and enjoy the show?”
He chuckled, leaning a little closer, and you felt your heart rate spike. “Maybe. But I was thinking more along the lines of just… keeping you entertained.”
“Oh, I’m plenty entertained, thanks,” you shot back, trying to sound unimpressed despite the heat creeping up your neck.
He shrugged, unfazed, and settled back into his lounge chair. 
“Good. Then let’s make it the best hour of your week,” he said, flashing you a wink that sent a new wave of exasperation—and, annoyingly, a bit of excitement—through you.
You huffed, shaking your head as you took a sip of your drink, determined not to let him see just how much that smirk was affecting you. Just one hour, you reminded yourself. What could possibly happen in one hour?
As you and Bucky settled into a strange, almost comfortable silence, you heard a booming voice from across the pool.
“CHICKEN FIGHT!” Johnny’s voice rang out, loud and enthusiastic, immediately grabbing everyone’s attention.
You whipped your head around, eyes widening. Johnny was wading into the pool, rallying everyone like some kind of pool party commander. “Come on! Everyone in! We need two teams!”
“Oh, no,” you muttered under your breath, instinctively shrinking into your lounge chair, hoping you’d be overlooked in the shuffle. Absolutely not happening, you thought, clutching your drink like a lifeline.
But Bucky, of course, was already grinning ear to ear. He turned to you, his eyes gleaming with excitement and mischief. 
“You heard him,” he said, patting your shoulder like this was some team-building exercise. “We’re going in.”
“What? No!” you hissed, clutching your drink tighter as if that would save you. “I didn’t sign up for a chicken fight. I’m just here for moral support.”
Bucky laughed, standing up and stretching in that way that only he could pull off without looking ridiculous. 
“Oh, come on,” he said, flashing you that smug, challenging grin. “Afraid of a little friendly competition?”
You shook your head, digging your heels in. “Nope. Not happening. And it’s not friendly—it’s dangerous!”
“Oh, don’t be such a chicken.” His smirk widened, and then, with a theatrical sigh, he added, “Guess I’ll just have to find someone braver.”
Your jaw dropped. “Oh, you’re really going to play that card?”
He shrugged, glancing around with feigned disappointment. “Guess so. Shame though. I thought you could handle it.”
It was the final straw. With an exasperated groan, you threw down your drink and stood up. 
“Fine! I’ll do it.” The second the words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them, especially as you saw Bucky’s smirk morph into full-blown satisfaction.
“Perfect,” he said, clearly thrilled with himself.
You sighed, slipping off your sheer cover-up, feeling a sudden self-consciousness as you stood there in just your swimsuit. Bucky’s gaze flicked over you with open admiration, his grin widening just a bit. You forced yourself to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, rolling your eyes at his blatant staring.
“Enjoying the view?” you deadpanned.
“Oh, absolutely,” he replied without missing a beat, his eyes twinkling. “But we’ve got a fight to win.”
Before you could second-guess your decision, he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the pool. Johnny spotted the two of you and cheered, pumping his fist in the air. “Yes! We got a team! Bucky and… Y/N, right?”
You forced a smile, giving him a thumbs-up while silently planning your escape route. But before you knew it, you were waist-deep in the water, Bucky hoisting you up with surprising ease, positioning you on his shoulders.
“Oh my god, this is insane,” you muttered, gripping onto his head for balance as he adjusted to your weight. “I feel like a five-year-old at a theme park.”
“Just hold on,” he chuckled, steadying himself under you. “I’ve got you.”
Your heart skipped a beat as his hands firmly held your thighs, and suddenly, this was a whole new level of intense. Focus on the fight, not the incredibly attractive man holding you in the pool, you told yourself, cheeks flaming.
Johnny waded over with his partner—a muscular, tattooed guy named Jake who was definitely taking this way too seriously. 
“Ready to lose, Barnes?” Jake taunted, grinning up at you.
Bucky chuckled, his hands tightening on your legs just slightly. “Not a chance.”
“Alright, you’re up top!” Johnny yelled, clapping his hands. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”
You barely had time to brace yourself before Jake and his partner charged at you, water splashing everywhere as they made their move. Instinctively, you shrieked, grabbing onto Bucky’s hair for dear life as the force of the impact sent you both wobbling.
“Easy on the hair!” Bucky grunted, though he was laughing, his shoulders steadying beneath you as he held his ground.
“Oh, sorry!” you gasped, adjusting your grip. But before you could even catch your breath, Jake’s partner was lunging at you again, arms flailing as he tried to knock you off balance.
“Oh, no you don’t!” you muttered, your competitive spirit kicking in. You threw your hands out, grabbing his wrists and pushing back with everything you had, determined to hold your ground.
“Yeah, that’s it!” Bucky cheered from below, his laughter bubbling up as he shifted to help keep you steady. “Show ‘em what you’ve got!”
Fueled by his encouragement—and a surprising amount of adrenaline—you leaned forward, pushing against Jake’s partner with all your strength. The guy’s face twisted in concentration, but with one final shove, you managed to throw him off balance. He teetered, arms flailing, before finally toppling backward into the water with a massive splash.
“Yes!” you shouted, punching the air triumphantly as Johnny and Jake went down in a flurry of water and defeat. “Suck on that!”
The words had barely left your mouth when reality crashed back in. You blinked, suddenly realizing that maybe—just maybe—you’d gotten a little too carried away. Oh god, did I really just shout that? you thought, the heat rushing to your cheeks as your triumphant grin quickly turned into a sheepish smile.
“Well, look at you,” Bucky chuckled from below, clearly amused by your victory-induced outburst. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Yeah, well… neither did I,” you muttered, feeling the embarrassment settling in as you tried to slide off his shoulders, desperate to save whatever shred of dignity you had left. But as you started to wriggle down, you realized Bucky’s hands were still firmly gripping your thighs, holding you in place.
You froze, looking down at him. “Uh, Bucky… you can, you know… let go now.”
He glanced up, smirking. “Oh, but you’re comfortable up there. Why rush it?”
You huffed, your face going a deeper shade of red. “Because I’m very much done being the human flagpole, thank you very much.”
Bucky’s grin only widened as he kept his hold, clearly enjoying the situation far more than he should. “Nah, I think I like you right where you are. Adds a bit of… height to my reputation.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, feeling your mortification level spike. “If you don’t let me down, I swear I’ll—”
“Fine, fine,” he laughed, finally loosening his grip, letting you slide back into the water. But just as your feet touched down, he didn’t back away—instead, he shifted closer, his hands still lingering on your waist, his gaze locking onto yours with a look that sent your pulse racing.
You took a half-step back, but there was no real room to escape, not with the edge of the pool just behind you and Bucky’s broad frame in front, all mischief and steady, unbreakable eye contact. 
“You know,” he murmured, his voice low, “you could stay longer.”
Your breath hitched as Bucky leaned just the slightest bit closer, his hands still warm and steady on your waist, his smirk turning softer yet somehow more intense. Every nerve in your body seemed to jolt to life as he held your gaze.
You cleared your throat, attempting to find your voice amid the chaos of your thoughts. 
“Uh… stay longer? For what?” you managed, trying to sound casual, though your pulse was anything but.
His smirk grew, the corners of his mouth lifting in that way that was dangerously charming. 
“For the victory lap, of course,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper. “After all, we did just crush the competition. Wouldn’t want you running off too fast.”
“Oh, right, a victory lap,” you muttered, trying to regain your composure but finding it difficult with his hands still lingering on your waist. “But I think the whole pool just watched that ‘lap’…”
“Then they got a good show,” he chuckled, his voice warm with that teasing tone you were starting to know all too well. “But the best part of winning is savoring it… right here.”
Your face went hot as his fingers brushed slightly against your sides, sending a little spark of energy straight up your spine. 
“Bucky,” you said, the word barely a whisper. “You’re… awfully close.”
“Oh, am I?” He didn’t back away; instead, he raised a brow, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Didn’t hear you complaining when you were up there, champ.”
Your cheeks went impossibly warmer. “That was different. That was, you know… competitive. Strategic.”
“Competitive and strategic?” he echoed, his grin turning almost wicked. “Well, in that case…” He shifted his hands slightly, bringing you even closer as he leaned in. “Let’s see if you’re still competitive outside the game.”
He hovered just a breath away, his gaze flickering to your lips for a moment that felt like an eternity. You felt yourself leaning in almost on instinct, your pulse racing, and for one wild, heart-stopping second, it seemed like he might actually kiss you.
But then, as if on cue, someone nearby let out a loud, obnoxious cheer, snapping both of you out of the moment. The sound jolted you, and you quickly took a step back, breaking the tension as reality crashed in.
Bucky chuckled softly, looking slightly too smug as he let his hands fall from your waist. 
“Guess that victory lap will have to wait,” he murmured, giving you one last look that promised he wasn’t quite finished with his teasing yet.
You swallowed, desperately trying to get your heart rate back to normal. “Yeah, guess so.”
As the night went on, you’d lost count of how many concoction drinks had been handed to you, and at this point, your usual sense of caution was practically nonexistent. The rooftop was a haze of laughter, lights, and music, and the whole place felt like it was buzzing with energy. Any embarrassment from earlier had dissolved into pure, uninhibited confidence, each drink making you feel bolder than the last.
One minute, you were in a drinking game, cheering Bucky on as he took down a round of shots like it was nothing. The next, you found yourself in a game of truth or dare that had somehow escalated into body shots. You’d laughed, nearly choking on your drink, when you saw Bucky sprawled out on a table, daring you with that infuriating grin to take your turn.
“Oh, come on, that's not fair,” you slurred, trying to wave off the dare as he raised an eyebrow, that smug look firmly in place.
“Back out now if you can’t handle it,” he teased, lying back and folding his arms behind his head, acting like he hadn’t a care in the world.
The crowd cheered you on, and fueled by liquid courage, you rolled your eyes and leaned down, pressing your lips to his abs, feeling his warm skin under your touch as you took the shot in a quick, heated moment. His laughter mingled with the cheers around you, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush from the attention, from his gaze, from the heat spreading across your face.
Before you knew it, you were in a round of flip cup with Bucky as your teammate, and he downed his drink, slamming his cup down with a victorious shout. He grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up and spinning you around, both of you laughing so hard you could barely stand straight when he finally set you down.
Somehow, you ended up on the makeshift dance floor, music thumping as the party around you roared on, the lights around the rooftop pool casting a glow over everyone. You’d danced with other people throughout the night, but Bucky seemed to have a way of drawing you back, his energy magnetic, his laughter contagious. It was like he was everywhere you turned, keeping pace with you, matching every laugh and smirk with one of his own.
The music thumped, lights flashed, and the DJ’s voice blared over the speakers, “Alright, party people! Here’s the deal—find someone you want to… get close to tonight and give them a kiss, a hug, heck, even a lick if you’re feeling bold!”
Everyone around you burst into cheers and laughter, the party’s energy wild and reckless. By now, you were buzzing on so much liquid courage that everything felt like the best idea ever, including the fact that you were swaying against Bucky, who’d somehow stayed by your side all night.
He leaned in, his smirk way too mischievous, and the alcohol made it feel impossibly close. 
“Did you hear that?” he slurred, barely keeping the laughter out of his voice. “I think it’d be a shame if we ignore the DJ’s request don’t you?”
You rolled your eyes, trying to brush it off, but he just grinned wider, leaning in until his cheek was practically pressed against yours. 
“Hold still,” he whispered, a laugh lurking in his voice.
Then, in a move so outrageous you could barely comprehend it, he dragged his tongue slowly from your chin up to your forehead.
“Bucky!” you shrieked, stumbling back and half falling over yourself, laughter bubbling out of you as you clutched your face in shock. “Oh my god, you did not just—”
He stepped back, looking beyond pleased with himself, the grin on his face pure, unfiltered pride. 
“What? I’m just being… obedient,” he slurred, raising his hands in mock innocence.
“You are the worst!” you squealed, laughing so hard you could barely keep it together, grabbing his arm as you steadied yourself, still half in disbelief. He just chuckled, clearly reveling in your reaction as he pulled you right back into the rhythm, your laughter mixing with the cheers around you as the dance floor pulsed with music.
They cranked up the music, and suddenly, the beat was all around you, pulsing through the crowd, as if daring everyone to let loose. The energy was infectious, and you found yourself moving in sync with him, laughing as you danced together, every touch and sway between you crackling with a chemistry that had been simmering all night.
Without thinking, you stepped closer, your hands drifting to his chest, letting your fingers splay against the warm, solid muscle. Your movements grew slower, more deliberate, and his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you against him until there was barely any space left between you. His gaze dropped, glued on your lips, and you felt a shiver run through you, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his face just inches from yours. His nose brushed yours, and you looked up to meet his gaze, seeing the same surprised intensity reflected in his eyes.
Bucky held your gaze, his breath mingling with yours, and you could feel the tension building, electric and undeniable. He was waiting—leaving the next move up to you. If you wanted him, you knew he’d let you take him.
🎶Just let me know, can you be the one to hold and not let me go?🎶
Heart pounding, you somehow managed to press yourself even closer, feeling the swell of your chest against him, igniting a flush across his cheeks. But it wasn’t embarrassment you saw in his eyes—it was heat, a look that sent a thrill down your spine. His hand shifted, his fingers tracing along the curve of your hip, and you could feel the strength of his grip as he held you.
🎶I need to know, could you be the one to call when I lose control?🎶
The tension was unbearable, and as you tilted your face up, your lips brushed his in the softest, most hesitant caress—a question, an invitation. His resolve crumbled instantly. His hand slid to your waist, gripping the flesh there as his other hand threaded into your hair, guiding your head back so he could kiss you deeper, tasting you with an intensity that left you breathless. You let out a startled, breathless sound, and he responded by pulling you closer, cradling your face as if you were something precious, something he couldn’t bear to let go of.
Your lips parted for him, and he kissed you with a hunger that had been building for some time. His tongue traced yours, swallowing your quiet moans, anchoring you to him as his hand kept you steady. It wasn’t forceful, just… tender, like he was holding something priceless.
Your breaths came heavy, your cheeks flushed, but you barely noticed; all you could feel was him, his touch, his heartbeat pounding against yours, and the fire in his veins matching your own. In that moment, propriety, the crowd around you, everything else faded into oblivion. If he wanted you to take him right there, you couldn’t even think of saying no.
Every nerve in your body was alive, tingling with an incredible sense of lust and need as his arms held you close. His lips pressed harder, deepening the kiss, his passion and intensity only spurring you to match it. You melted against him, completely consumed by the heat and need between you, and for those moments, it was as if nothing else existed. Oxygen became secondary; the only thing that mattered was the connection between you, growing more fervent with each second.
Finally, when the need for air became overwhelming, you both broke apart, gasping, your faces inches from each other, breaths mingling as you took each other in. His lips tingled, mirroring your own, and every beat of your heart seemed to urge you back into his embrace.
“Let’s get out of here… yours or mine?” Bucky stammered between breaths, his voice husky, his eyes still filled with fire. His body radiated heat, and he looked like he’d dive into the pool at any second just to cool down.
“Mine,” you whispered, your voice breathless, cheeks flushed, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you held his gaze.
× × × × 
You both barely made it down the hallway before the urgency hit, the tension that had been building all night finally snapping. Bucky’s hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, pulling you against him as you fumbled for your keys, the both of you practically tripping over each other in your haste. As soon as you managed to unlock the door, you pushed it open, stumbling inside, his mouth crashing into yours before it even closed behind you.
Wetness pooled inside you, the need for him overwhelming as you pressed back against the door, his body meeting yours in a frenzy of heat and desperation. His stubble scraped against your skin, rough and deliciously manly, a reminder that he was all raw power and intensity. You loved it, the way it scratched against your cheek, adding to the thrill and making your skin tingle wherever he touched.
His lips found the side of your neck, warm and insistent as he kissed his way down, nipping softly, each touch leaving you breathless. You tilted your head back, giving him more access, exposing the full length of your neck to his hungry mouth. His hands slid up your sides, his fingers pressing in firmly, possessively, as his teeth grazed your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through you.
“God,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
You could only gasp, clutching onto him as his mouth moved up to your jaw, his hands never stilling, gripping you as if he couldn’t bear to let go. Bucky reached a hand up and placed it on your left breast, over the bikini top, and then brought his hand up to the back of your neck to pull you in closer to him. You undid the straps of your top, and down fell the top, exposing your naked breasts to him.
Holy shit—this can’t be real. Am I hallucinating? Is this actually happening? Wait—oh god, is he about to put my boobs in his mouth?!
Like a hungry child desperate for milk Bucky suckled on your nipple, squeezing the bottom of your breast passionately with one hand, and holding the other breast in his other hand. You looked down at him, licking, sucking, rubbing, and he looked as though he was transported to paradise.
He worked himself into a frenzy playing with your breast, until he wanted more. He lifted you up under your thighs, off the floor, and pressed your back against the wall.
Oh shit!
He kissed you again, his hand sliding down to press against you over your bikini bottom. With a quick, desperate motion, he tugged the fabric to the side, his fingers brushing bare skin, making your breath hitch.
As his hand cupped you, he began to move slowly, his fingers exploring, teasing. “Damn,” he murmured, his voice thick with surprise and satisfaction. “You’re so wet. Is this what happens every time you watch my videos?”
“M-maybe…” you stammered, cheeks heating, barely able to meet his eyes as a grin spread across his face.
His fingers slid inside you, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each motion sending sparks through your entire body. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he asked, “How many times have you touched yourself thinking about me?”
You bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan as he continued, each movement intensifying the heat pooling inside you. 
“Mmmh—why would I tell you that?” you managed, trying to sound teasing but barely able to keep your voice steady.
His grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes as his fingers pressed deeper, his thumb brushing against you just right. “Because I want to hear every filthy detail.”
He kissed your other nipple, the one he missed when before. Bucky always gave equal time to the breasts. Suckling on one nipple, fingering you harder and harder, you were getting more and more excited for the moment he would penetrate you.
“Oh my god—” You swallowed, feeling your face heat up and you could feel yourself slightly sobering up. With a nervous laugh, you finally gave in, your voice soft but steady.
“Fine… sometimes, late at night—ah—I’d imagine you between my legs, devouring me like your life depended on it,” you whispered, feeling your cheeks burn. “I’d—fuck—I’d think about your hands, the way they’d feel inside me, moving exactly like this…mmmh,” you gasped as his fingers pressed deeper, your own words sparking the desire between you. 
His fingers never stopped their steady, torturous rhythm, each movement deliberate, coaxing you toward the edge with a patience that was as maddening as it was intoxicating.
“And? That’s it?” he asked, his tone thick with amusement, daring you to reveal more. His thumb brushed against you in just the right way, as if encouraging you to keep talking, to give him every last detail he was craving.
“And—hah—I’d picture you… spitting in my mouth while you’re turning me on, you’d put your hand on my neck while I beg you to i dunno? reorganize my guts—because you’re so big Bucky. . . I don’t think you’ll fit inside me.”
“Oh the innocent looking ones are always the dirtiest.” Bucky’s smirk turned darker, his fingers pressing into you with a newfound intensity, his digits hooking and pressing into your most sensitive spot, causing your hips to jerk against his palm. 
“And was I just as good in your imagination as I am now?” he murmured, voice low and rough, sending shivers straight down your spine.
“Yes… yes…” The words left your lips almost involuntarily, your hands gripping his shoulders as your nails dug in, grounding yourself against the overwhelming sensation. Your face twisted with pleasure, each stroke of his digits making it harder to catch your breath. 
Bucky’s eyes darkened with a fierce satisfaction as he watched you, his smirk deepening. “Better than you imagined?”
"Mhhm," you tried to respond, but it came out more like a needy moan, your voice barely a whisper under the intensity of his touch.
Bucky's smirk grew at the sound, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he took in every reaction, every tremble. "That’s what I thought," he murmured, his voice dark and teasing.
Bucky carried you through the open door of your bedroom, his movements purposeful, every touch sending sparks across your skin. When he reached the edge of the bed, he lowered you onto the mattress, but before letting you go, he bent down to capture your lips in a kiss—a kiss that felt as intimate as it did electrifying.
You couldn’t help but notice the difference; this was something he never did in his videos. Bucky never kissed anyone on the lips on screen. But here, he kissed you slowly, deeply.
His hands moved to your shoulders, firm but gentle as he guided you back into the soft downy mattress. “There you go, baby,” he murmured, his voice warm and low. “Lean back.”
He knelt down at the side of the bed. He pulled off your panties, the final barrier to your sex. He pushed your legs apart and back, and gazed at your pussy, already wet for him.
He stared at your exposed pussy for ten seconds, admiring it like it was the greatest work of art he had ever seen.
"Your pussy," he said, his lips nearly brushing your sex. "It's beautiful.”
You lifted your  head up and looked at him. Your jaw was dropped and you were already starting to feel tingles up your body, even though he hadn't licked you yet. You heard his breathing get heavier and heavier, he was so excited to put his lips on your pussy.
Two large fingers of his left hand spread your lips. Two large fingers of his right hand rubbed your clit in strong circles. Each circle sends a shock wave through your body.
"You smell fantastic," he declared, and he dove his mouth right on top of your wet and stimulated clit. Up and down he licked. Up and down, his mouth clasped tight against your pussy.
"Oh," you moaned, as your eyes rolled up to the back of your head. Your arms—with a mind of their own—grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted them back, presenting yourself to this man who used to be on the screen and was now bringing you to ecstasy. He'd only just started to lick you, but even so you felt ready for him to enter you and never leave. 
As Bucky continued to eat you like you’re his last meal, each suction sending thrills through you, a sudden wave of doubt crashed over you, freezing you in place. Images flooded your mind—women he’d been with, all effortlessly beautiful, the kind who exuded confidence and allure. How could you compare? This had to be nothing more than another fleeting thing for him, a “friendship” that would end the moment the night was over.
You tensed, your hands moving to gently push him back. “Bucky… wait,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.
He looked up from between your legs, his expression softening instantly as he met your gaze. 
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle, concerned.
“I… I just…” You stammered, the words getting caught in your throat before you finally managed, “I don’t want to be… one of your girls.”
Bucky blinked, taken aback, his expression shifting as if the words had struck something unexpected, almost offended. 
“One of my girls?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you searched for the right way to explain. “I… I don’t do one-night stands,” you admitted, feeling vulnerable. 
Bucky nodded slowly, his tongue pressing into his cheek as he rose to his feet. "Mhm—no, I get it... it's because of my job," he said, his tone carrying a hint of defensiveness.
You sat up, noticing the shift in his demeanor. "Are you mad?" you asked softly, uncertainty creeping into your voice.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not mad," he replied, though his clenched jaw suggested otherwise. "I just didn't think you'd see me that way."
"See you what way?" you pressed gently.
He met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "Like I'm some guy who just goes around collecting flings," he explained. "I thought you knew me better than that."
You swallowed, choosing your words carefully. “It's not that I think poorly of you,” you said. “It's just... your work makes things complicated for me. I don't want to be another notch on anyone's belt.”
He took a deep breath, his expression softening. “I understand where you're coming from,” he admitted. “But believe me when I say that this—” he gestured between the two of you “—is different for me.”
“How do I know that?” you asked quietly.
He stepped closer, his eyes sincere. “Because I don't share moments like this with just anyone,” he said. “You think I go around kissing people like that? Off-camera, in my real life?”
Bucky’s expression shifted, his brows knitting together as he crossed his arms, clearly growing more frustrated. “I thought you knew the difference between who I am on-camera and who I am off it,” he replied, his tone clipped.
You sighed, trying to hold your ground. “Bucky, you’re the one who kept teasing me to watch your videos, practically encouraging me to make it my new hobby—how am I supposed to ignore what you do?”
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair in irritation. “Because those videos aren’t me,” he said, voice rising. “You’re acting like everything I do there is just some extension of my personal life, but it’s a job, Y/N. I don’t go around living like that off-set.”
You crossed your arms, not caring that the blanket had slipped off, leaving you bare before him. 
“And I’m supposed to just... pretend that all of it doesn’t mean anything?” you shot back, feeling a twinge of vulnerability but refusing to let it show. “You kept making those jokes, those comments—you have to see how confusing it is for me.”
He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “And you think I just do that with everyone? That every person who walks into my life gets these... moments with me?” His gaze softened slightly as he gestured between the two of you. “If that were the case, do you think I’d be here, right now, trying to convince you?”
You opened your mouth to reply, but the words caught in your throat. His intensity was throwing you off balance, forcing you to question your assumptions. You’d expected him to brush this off or laugh, not take it to heart.
He shook his head, a frustrated laugh escaping him. “You don’t get it, do you?” He looked at you, his eyes full of something you couldn’t quite name. “I don’t have to be here, fighting for this. I could have walked away and yet here I am.”
You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat as the weight of his words settled heavily between you. The intensity of his gaze, the raw honesty in his voice—it was all too much, too fast, and yet it tugged at something deep inside you, making it impossible to brush off. But your heart was pounding, confusion and vulnerability swirling together, and you weren’t ready to face everything his words were unearthing.
“I… I think we should call it a night,” you said quietly, barely able to meet his gaze, the words coming out softer than you intended.
For a moment, he looked at you, his expression unreadable, and you could see him processing your response. Then, with a quiet sigh, he nodded, stepping back to give you space.
“Alright,” he replied, his voice subdued. “If that’s what you want.”
The room felt suddenly colder, the tension between you now tinged with a quiet ache. You could tell he was holding back more that he wanted to say, but he respected your decision, his expression guarded as he looked away.
You bit your lip, your mind racing with things you couldn’t bring yourself to say, with emotions you weren’t quite ready to admit. 
“Thank you… for understanding,” you managed, feeling the weight of your choice settle over you.
He gave a small nod, his jaw tight, before he turned toward the door. 
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said softly, pausing for a moment as if hoping you might change your mind, before finally leaving your apartment, the main door shutting made you flinch even though Bucky closed it softly.
The silence that followed felt heavier than you expected. The tension that had filled the room moments ago lingered, and a wave of frustration washed over you, mixing with regret and uncertainty. You took a shaky breath, running a hand through your hair before letting out a long, exhausted sigh.
Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow, buried your face into it, and let out a muffled scream, releasing all the emotions you couldn’t quite put into words. The pillow absorbed the sound, but it did nothing to ease the twist of emotions churning inside you. Finally, you pulled the pillow away, feeling just as conflicted as before, wondering if you’d made the right choice… or a terrible mistake.
tags: @bohoooitsme @barnescamboy @strangefunthornqueen @mayusenpai666 @seven0714
@rabbitrabbit12321 @alexsl-universe @xunquish-blog @hzdhrtss @winchestert101
@alyana-luvs-u @itsbuckysworld
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a-b-riddle · 7 months ago
Text
Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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lanabuckybarnes · 5 months ago
Text
| A Door Away |
Minors DNI 18+
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2 weeks. It’s been 2 weeks of biological warfare in the sense of your heat. When he met up with you in the hall, Bucky knew with just with a glance just how fucked he was, and he needed it badly
✧Pairing✧ Alpha!MilitaryVet!Bucky x Omega!Fem!Reader
✧Warnings✧ Alpha!Bucky, Pining, Fluff, Buck being a cutie, Wet dreams, Oral (M), Rut, Heat, A/B/O Themes, Dirty Talk, Petnames [Omega, Pretty Girl, Baby, Princess], Dirty talk, Confessions - Any other warnings let me know
✧Word Count✧ 3.7k
✧Events✧ Hot Bucky Summer | WEEK 2 | “What should I call you? | Master, Alpha, Pet | @buckybarnesevents
Buckys-wintersoldier 2K followers Bingo | Square: Confessions in a weird situation | @buckys-wintersoldier
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James Bucky Barnes was aloof. He kept to himself most of the time, rarely speaking beyond a hello or a soft ‘how are you?’ You had to admit that there was something about the man that intrigued you. Was it his cold gaze that seemed to melt whenever he looked at you, those rippling arms and toned body you’d caught a glimpse of through your peephole one warm day. Or maybe it was the sweet gentle nature he hid behind those layers of hardened emotions. You can always remember the first time you met your neighbour face to face. He held a basket in his hand filled to the brim with household items that you could easily have forgotten with a big move.
“Oh hi” you chirped when you noticed that you’d been taking in the man for a little too long. His scent captivates you, keeping you glued to your doormat. A rich vanilla permeating your nostrils, it was one of the nicest scents you’d encountered around your time with alphas.
He cleared his throat, the tip of his nose and ears darkening to a deep pink.
“My sister…I mentioned to her I had a new neighbour and she made this…for you” his voice dropped off at the end of the sentence, his deep blue eyes unable to hold your own for more than a minute. He was peculiar for an Alpha, most of them reeked of arrogance, treating their subordinates like gum on the sole of their shoe. But here he was, a basket stretched out to you and his eyes pinned to his shoes.
You’d been staring again.
A few months into living in the new apartment, everything was finally settled and you were settling into your little home just great. Bucky helped an awful lot which surprised you beyond belief. When your AC broke and your landlord wouldn’t pick up your calls James knocked on your door, tools in hand. He had it fixed in under an hour.
The same with your shower, sink and that time you bought a bigger bed, determined you could do it yourself only to knock on James’ door with your tail tucked between your legs.
After an offer of his favourite dish and beer, he found it hard to keep the ‘annoyed’ scowl on his face. You were just too cute looking up at him like that, with wide puppy dog eyes, looking so defeated. His animal brain lived for the domestic life you two had accidentally created.
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“Today was nice Buck” You turned in his embrace to lean into his side a little more, your legs tucked under you and your face inches away from his. The swans in the water splashed around, courting each other with their pretty dances.
“I’m glad you liked it” he let his hand, the metal one that he’d lost while serving, cup your cheek, the plates clicking softly as he soothed his thumb over the bone.
His eyes dropped to the perfect bow of your lips, how close they were to his. It would take only a slight movement to connect them, swallowing your soft sounds.
“You don’t gotta stare,” you teased. He lurched forward, capturing your lips in a tight embrace, his tongue pressing against your mouth looking for entry which you gladly granted.
There was no fight for dominance in the kiss, your tongues dancing instead. His lungs stung with lack of oxygen but he didn't want to pull away, he couldn’t, your soft floral scent mixing with the dewy air keeping him trapped. When it became too much you parted, his lip captured by your teeth.
There was something so primal in your eyes, a longing that had him twitching inside his jeans in anticipation.
“James” his name came out of your mouth as a breathy whimper, almost like it was excruciating to say his name. The air around you both changed into something humid, biting at him, rearing its erogenous head.
He didn’t even notice the way your hand had drifted down, his breath catching in his throat as you rubbed your palm over him.
“Need you James” you whispered so sweetly in his ear, leaving soft kisses down his neck, completely missing his scent gland. The rhythmic clanks of his belt sounded in his ears and you pulled back with a victorious sound.
You looked like an angel as you pulled him from his briefs, pumping his length until precum beaded at the tip. Your eyes never left his as you sunk, your tongue rolling out to taste him.
You were so close he could feel your hot breath against his tip, your pink muscle drawing ever closer—
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Bucky’s eyes shot open. His chest heaving against his mattress euphoria, evidence of his actions that he’d just imagined soaked his underwear and sheets.
But the dream was more than just a run-of-the-mill thing. It only meant one thing for Bucky. His rut.
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To say you were growing concerned for James was an understatement. For over two weeks now you hadn't seen him, hadn’t heard a thing from him at all. It was like he just vanished. It was when he didn’t show up for your weekly meal together that it reached its boiling point.
You couldn’t even eat the food you prepared as you sat, staring blankly at the spot James would usually sit, letting you drag on and on about your day with a soft smile or a little comment here and there. Your heart always fluttered when he did that, even if it was just a small hum it sent butterflies flapping about aimlessly in your stomach.
You went to bed in a sour mood, hangry and entirely terrified for your friend.
You tossed and turned in dreamless slumber, any slight sound shocking you awake, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t force yourself into deeper rest.
The clock on your bedside table read 3am when you heard a bang in the hallway, a curse following it. You slipped out from under the covers and grabbed the first thing that came into your hand, your dad’s baseball bat he gave to you for good luck—and for a scenario just like this one.
You crept silently down your hall to the front door, avoiding each creaky floorboard that Bucky promised to fix sometime last week. Peaking through the peephole you found the very man that had made your life a living pain for the past few weeks.
You swung your door open quickly, meeting the wild eyes of James, anger bubbling in your chest fighting with the concern you also felt. The concern won by a slim margin.
“James” you whispered, inspecting his body with your eyes. His hair was a tousled mess, and his pale blue shirt was wrinkled. Still the same man and with no sign of injury, except the pained expression across his face.
“Bucky. Call me Bucky” he forced a smile but he couldn’t hide the low rumblings of a growl in his broad chest. His brain short-circuited at the way your sweet voice sounded. It brought him right back into his bed and into that dream. He couldn’t deal with that and he sure as hell wouldn’t force you to either. He wasn’t that kind of alpha.
Then your nose picked up on something in the air around you, that vanilla smell that Bucky had, it swirled with something much more fruity, something suggestive that had your omega brain wrestling with your logical human side.
His rut.
That’s where he was.
His voice rasped as he spoke, lying dormant for too long but your mind was far too occupied with more nefarious thoughts. You couldn’t help but imagine him, legs spread wide on a couch, his naked chest blushed pink, his mouth agape as strangled moans, growls, any sound of pleasure falling from him. His hips fucking up into his hand, or one of those silicone pussy’s you’d seen in porn.
Would he be thinking of you while he called out for his omega?
“Hello?” You shook out of your trance, realising that you’d been staring at Bucky the whole time. You shot him an awkward smile, confusing him further.
“Bye.”
Slam. Your door shook on its hinges as you slid down the other end of it.
Bye? Why the fuck did you say that? You let your head fall backwards, sucking in some much-needed fresh air. Your thighs clenched, your hand wandering between your legs to your soaked panties. And that was only because of his smell.
Bucky was no better, the remains of his rut flaring up at the sight of you, in that tank and panties. You hadn’t anticipated anyone and opened the door in a panic, completely forgetting about your half-naked look. Bucky grunted, mumbling under his breath about how ridiculous he was being. He threw his keys into the bowl and stripped off his clothes, heading straight for the shower. If he left it any longer he didn’t want to think of the ways he’d ruin your tiny body.
His cock throbbed at the notion. God he hated his brain sometimes.
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You shot out of bed in a panic at the first twinge. It couldn’t be happening, you hadn’t had one in months. The second twinge had your legs like jelly, your hands slapping onto the nearest surface.
Oh, it was happening, and you had only a little time to prepare.
Throwing on a pair of sweats and quickly doing your teeth you frantically made your way to the car park to grab your car, almost speeding to the shop just so you could be at home in time.
You raided the store of all its protein products and energy drinks. The bags almost burst at the seam as you carried them to the elevator. Your fingers ached and your body cried out. Come on it won’t be that much longer, you reassured that animalistic part of your brain.
Stepping out onto your floor you struggled down the carpeted hall, the bags feeling heavier and heavier. Thankfully Bucky would be at work, you didn’t have any chance of bumping into him.
You fished for your keys in your pocket, grasping them tightly before fumbling with them.
“Need a hand?” Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh yesss. A range of emotions crossed your brain at his deep voice, your logical brain cursing while your omega brain reeled.
Yes. you need a hand, let the alpha know what’s wrong. Your animal brain demanded.
Don’t be fucking stupid, he’s your neighbour and he doesn’t even like you. You’re wanting us to wriggle our ass in his face and beg to be bred, yeah I’m sure he wouldn’t call the cops.
It wasn’t unheard of for omegas to ask alphas for help during their heat, kind of like a friends-with-benefits scenario. But you’d be damned if you were asking Bucky for help. You could get a bit…passionate about sex and it doubled during your heat, you liked Bucky too much to let him bear witness to that, your mind plaguing you with thoughts of him hightailing it and running at the first sight of you.
You’d settle with your little knotted friend that rested neatly in your drawer.
After politely declining Bucky’s offer you for straight to work.
Night drew closer, your nest established on your floor, perfectly poised just the way you like it. Energy drinks and your trusty silicone dildo lay off to the side.
You took your time showering, doing your entire routine. Drying yourself off before lathering your body in lotion, you didn’t even bother to put on some clothing, instead settling yourself into the nest in a foetal position.
Your hips rolled into the air, soft whimpers falling from you at around 2am. Without hesitation you grabbed the rubber cock, squirting some lube on it and running it through your soaked slit. You pushed it in slowly until the knot pressed against your entrance, your pussy not quite ready yet but with the way your wetness rolled out of your body, it wouldn’t be too long.
Bucky could hear your whimpering from the next apartment, your scent wafting through his house and straight into his nostrils. His cock twitched at your soft sounds, your muffled pleading for an Alpha to fill you up.
His mind wandered, were you using your fingers to get off or one of those cocks he knew companies made to exploit little omega’s like you.
“Mmm fuck Alpha hurts so much need your pups”
God it was going to be a long night.
The longer you went on the worse Bucky got, his cock dribbling all over his tight briefs, his skin glistening with a layer of sweat. He sat on the side of his bed, his head leaning against the wall, listening to you please yourself.
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2 weeks later your heat was showing no signs of subsiding. Your supplies from your first run had gone long ago and you had to ask your friend to grab you some more. You’d never felt a heat like this, usually they’d last a couple of days and that would be that but you were still riding your dildo a week later.
“Fuckfuckfuck…Alpha please so good” you slurred, a flurry of whimpers slipping out of your mouth as you rocked your hips back and forth, the head of the dildo brushing against your sweet spot. Your pussy gushing more slick around the plastic, smearing all over your thighs and onto the blankets of your nest.
It just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Your orgasms shook through you but you were left unsatisfied and riding the rubber cock desperately. Trying to seek that one good, back arching blissful climax that had you sinking into your sheets in exhaustion.
But it never came.
“Oh fuck Alpha gimme that fucking knot mmmm need your knot so bad, need you to breed me full” your moans mixed with the sloshing of your cunt, your lips stretching around the knot as it sunk into you repeatedly with a sloppy sound, your fingers frantically strumming your clit for anything. You could feel the coils in your stomach tighten almost painfully but no matter what you did they just wouldn’t snap.
“Fuckkkkk” You stopped your movements, sitting on the dildo and catching your breath. You were at a loss, you didn’t know what to do, if you didn’t cum you were going to drive yourself insane but no matter how hard you fucked yourself it just wouldn’t make anything happen.
You were so desperate, so fucking needy. You needed an Alpha.
The dildo fell out of you with a pop as you stood on shaky legs, each step towards your bedside cabinet sending pleasured shocks up your spine. You unlocked your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you reached the one you needed.
‘Bucky 🤭🩵’
For a second you hovered over the call button, unsure if you should do it. But need prevailed and the ringing brought you back to reality.
“Hello?”
You almost moaned pathetically down the phone at the sound of his voice, thick with sleep deprivation and so fucking husky.
“B-Bucky…” you hadn’t thought this far, your brain was so fogged with need that you didn’t even stop to think about how you’d ask him for help. Bucky’s voice at the end of the line was quick to respond. You didn’t need to tell him a thing he could hear just how much you struggled.
“I’ll be over in 5”
You could’ve cum on the spot, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you bit your lip and clenched your thighs. You looked around your room, a mess of blankets and pillows arranged in a circle on your floor and in the centre, your dildo. You sunk to the floor, no longer able to stand as the waves were just too much. The hardwood hurt your hands and knees as you crawled into the centre of your nest but you couldn’t care.
You were finally getting help and you couldn’t have been happier with who it was.
Your cheek smooshed against one of the pillows as you lay waiting, your hips grinding into the air subconsciously. You were so wrapped up in your trance that you failed to hear the front door opening or the soft knock on your bedroom door.
“Look at you pretty ‘mega” Bucky drawled from behind you, his slate blue eyes boring into your core. A fresh wave of slick trickled from you at the sight of him, his smell infecting the air in a way that had you gulping down oxygen like you were starved of it.
You watched as he slipped his shirt over his head, dog tags jingling before resting on his sternum, his metal hand drifting down to unbuckle his belt. You took him in like he was a cold glass of water on a boiling hot day. He was the magic medicine to your ailment.
He wasted no time in pushing his jeans and briefs to the floor, his thick cock slapping against washboard abs. He was so much bigger than the toy you relied on, your brain fought with itself, wondering if you could even take a cock that size.
You’d come this far.
“How’d you want it pretty girl? Want me to fuck you like you are just now, on your hands and knees presented to me like a little slut. Maybe you want me to flip you over and pound you, let you watch me as I hit every little inch of that hot ‘mega cunt” he spoke, words dripping with lust.
“I don’t care please Alpha” You slipped, pushing your ass back to him, waving it enticingly as more slick dripped from your folds. You needed it now, none of the teasing.
“Alpha?” He questioned with a teasing smirk, sinking to his knees behind you and flipping you with ease onto your back.
Fuck looked beautiful all fucked out, your face wet with frustrated tears, your pupils so dilated you could barely see the colour. Your chest heaving causing your tits to bounce and that sopping pussy, pathetically clenching around nothing, silently begging for him to fill you, make you full with him and only him.
“What should I call you?” You blinked up at him, blushing lightly despite the fact you lay spread wide for him. You’d never called someone Alpha before, it just fell from your mouth in bliss. Insecurity bubbled up at the thought of maybe Bucky not wanting to be your Alpha, even for just a short period.
Your worries were all squashed when he lined his fat head up with your core, sinking fully in a single thrust.
“Alpha’s fine baby, now lemme fuck that omega brain dumb alright. You don’t gotta think anymore, your alpha will do that for you.”
Dominance radiated off him. The kind that made you want to submit, roll your head back and present your neck for him to mark, letting him claim you.
He slid out slowly, letting you feel every inch, every vein of his length until just his head remained buried inside you before he thrust forward again, his tip kissing your cervix.
His thrusts picked up at the sound of your heavenly sounds, your body arching up to meet him, to be as close to him as possible.
“Ohh fuck ‘mega, that pussy ain’t been fucked good in a long time huh, she’s sucking me back in, such greedy little cunt…so fucking tight…that’s alright though, your alpha’s got you now, won’t let that pussy go unsatisfied again” Bucky fell to his elbows, his nose bumping yours as you shared each other's air. Your legs spread underneath him as his hips pushed your thighs open further.
You couldn’t think. he was everywhere. A hand in your hair, his hot breath fanning over your face and neck, his dick filling you up. You were ruined for any other Alpha you just knew.
Sobs bounced off the walls, sounds you’d never heard before falling from your mouth. Your hands clung to him, wrapping around his back, your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.
Fuck you were so close, those coils tightening deep in your belly again, hot spikes of pleasure rolling up your spine, your cunt spewing your essence around him.
“Fuck ‘mega my fucking knots swelling already ohhh shit, my knot ain’t swelled this fast before” he laughed between guttural grunts, his teeth nipping your jawline.
“Mmmm Alpha” you heave, your pussy clenching him tightly.
“Gonna cum baby? Gonna squirt around my fucking knot yeah? Oh fuck oh shit come on sweet omega, cum on my fucking dick.”
Your world went white when the swollen base of his cock pushed into you, stretching you wide, your preen stuck in your throat as your body convulsed with such an intense orgasm. Bucky rammed his whole weight into you a few more times before following suit, dumping his huge load inside your ruined cunt.
You don’t know when he rolled you over, his arms wrapping around you, your leg hooked over his hip. Your soft whines were the only indication that you hadn’t passed out, along with the look of sheer unbridled joy melting over your features. The softness and domestic nature of it all grounded Bucky. He didn’t feel regret like he thought he would, or guilt that he’d corrupted you
He felt at home.
“You did so good for me, pretty girl, don’t know anyone that’s taken my dick so good. Such a pretty little ‘mega” he praised, nuzzling his nose into your hair.
“Love you alpha” You forced despite your tongue feeling like lead in your mouth.
“I love you too princess, now get some rest alright? I’ll be here when you get up, then I’ll make you feel nice and good again.”
Bucky’s warm embrace and strong scent lulled you to sleep. A deep satisfied slumber that you hadn’t felt for months, a smile on your face.
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I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except on this page I have not given consent for it to be used.
Comments, Reblogs, Likes & Asks are always appreciated. They let me know that you are enjoying what you read and give me motivation to write more.
Thanks for reading~
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fastandcarlos · 5 months ago
Text
Soft Launch : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: follow the journey of lando’s soft launch to reveal your relationship
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liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,302,382 others
landonorris: one shoulder up or two 🤔
67,505 comments
username1: anyone else notice the person who accidentally walked in midway through the stream tonight!?
username2: lando definitely had a girl over…
alex_albon: you must be desperate for content if this is what you’re posting 🙄
username3: why won’t you tell us who was round your apartment lando??
georgerussell63: how about neither of your elbows up you weird man
username4: I keep replaying it but I can’t work out anything about them…
username5: what if lando has a secret girlfriend or something
danielricciardo: you know it’s okay to look at a photo and change your mind about posting it
username6: not everyone rinsing lando in the comments 😂
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liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 1,937,605 others
landonorris: life’s been pretty good recently ☀️
58,391 comments
username7: any particular reason why that might be mr lando norris
carlossainz55: care to elaborate? 🤔
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 zooming over to ferrari now to fill you in
username8: wonder if it’s pretty good because of someone??
georgerussell63: glad to see you with a smile on your face buddy 🫶🏻
username9: is he hinting that this new girl has made his life better??
maxverstappen1: I wanna know all of the gossip too 😂
username10: I’d love to be the reason for lando’s smile fyi
username11: I’m more interested to know who even took these photos
oscarpiastri: I’m fed up of this new version of you, you’re too smiley to have around the garage now
landonorris: @/oscarpiastri sorry not sorry 🙃
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liked by team_quadrant, maxfewtrell and 1,492,606 others
landonorris: apparently if you find a girl who likes quadrant, she’s definitely a keeper ✨
78,301 comments
username12: this sounds like confirmation to me that lando has a girl
team_quadrant: girls who like quadrant = girls with good taste
username13: do you reckon that’s her in the photo ☺️
danielricciardo: ik a better brand of clothes that they could wear 😂
landonorris: @/danielricciardo quadrant > enchante 🤫
username14: really hoping this new girl likes quadrant so she can stick around forever
username15: I like quadrant…does that make me your girlfriend now??
charles_leclerc: I like quadrant but you’re not willing to date me…
username16: @/charles_leclerc also not a girl you clown
oscarpiastri: if I do a photo shoot with you do I get free merch too?
pierregasly: why am I so invested in being part of lando’s comment section lmao
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,594,706 others
landonorris: thank you for bringing so much positivity into my life 🫶🏻🥺
89,394 comments
danielricciardo: you’re welcome honey 😇
landonorris: @/danielricciardo you wish that I was talking to you
username17: look how perfect they look together wow
username18: it’s official, he’s actually managed to get a girlfriend
georgerussell63: congrats on not being the single friend anymore 👏🏻
carlossainz55: little lando norris finally got himself a girlfriend 😂
username19: I want to be happy but I so wish that this was me
username20: the look on his face 😭 I’m so happy he’s happy
charles_leclerc: if you want some tips on how to be a good boyfriend just zoom back to ferrari again
username21: my heart is so full - cheering for these guys all the way!!
username22: constantly telling myself not to be bitter that my dreams now won’t come true
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liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc and 1,395,604 others
landonorris: race weekend with a first timer, luckily for her she picked the best team to support 🧡🏎️
89,483 comments
maxverstappen1: did she get a choice or did you force her to do this??
landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 she said she wanted to support the team with the most handsome driver 💁🏻‍♂️
oscarpiastri: @/landonorris she thinks I’m handsome awh
landonorris: @/oscarpiastri 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻
username23: how have we not got a face reveal when she was literally at the race
username24: I never had lando down for a soft launch kinda guy
danielricciardo: did you even introduce her to all the teams on the grid, you know, let her make her on mind up??
username25: whoever she is she knows how to rock papaya
username26: omg the height difference is the sweetest
logansargeant: I remember when I used to hug you and you’d rest against my chest like that 😂
alex_albon: look at you being all cute and charming
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liked by maxfewtrell, danielricciardo and 1,022,494 others
landonorris: holidaying with my favourites 🌊☀️
89,504 comments
username27: eurgh lando you’re killing us with all these almost photos
maxfewtrell: I’m the number one out of the two of us though right??
landonorris: @/maxfewtrell whatever makes you feel better sweet cheeks
username28: my heart can’t cope with this for much longer
oscarpiastri: so you holidayed with your favourites and yet I’m here at home 🤔
username29: lando replacing oscar with his girlfriend is peak
username30: lando knows what he’s doing and this is so not fair
username31: I bet he’s laughing at all of us when he looks at his comments section
alex_albon: it’s alright for some 😂
username32: lando I’m on my knees pls just tell us more about who this lucky girl is
georgerussell63: I think your fans might turn on you soon if you don’t stop playing them 😂
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liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 1,302,493 others
landonorris: another race weekend with my best human there to cheer me on 💕☺️
99,398 comments
username33: FINALLY HE GAVE US WHAT WE WANT
username34: omg she’s absolutely gorgeous lando
username35: we won at last woooooo
alex_albon: still can’t believe your girlfriend supports mclaren 😭
oscarpiastri: don’t forget who the most handsome mclaren driver is tho 😂
username36: they look so in love together 💞
username37: I want to be jealous but how can I be when they look so cute
lilymhe: we’re double dating asap btw
danielricciardo: they don’t prepare you for when the kids grow up 🤧
landonorris: @/danielricciardo sorry dad 😭
username38: my heart has officially exploded 😂
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liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 1,948,502 others
landonorris: whoops they caught us 🥺
tagged: ynusername
138,849 comments
username39: these two are gonna be such a duo omg
username40: ah and he even tagged her 🤩🤩🤩
danielricciardo: my kids are the cutest things in the world
carlossainz55: smooooth operator 😂😂
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 high praise from you my friend 🫡
username41: thank goodness that the soft launch era is now over
username42: I’m already in love with them so much
username43: I don’t want to be yn anymore, I just want to be her best friend
charles_leclerc: congrats buddy 👏🏻👏🏻
alex_albon: stop making the rest of us feel single even though we’re also in relationships please
ynusername: ily 🥺🥺🥺
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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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amirasainz · 2 months ago
Note
What about reader is a team principal of a team and every driver and there girlfriend are obsessed with her?
Hahaha, omg this is so funny.
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo
Obvious
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The world of Formula 1 was unforgiving, relentless, and absolutely cutthroat. But there was one anomaly in the paddock that no one could quite figure out: Y/N, the 22-year-old team principal of McLaren. Her rapid rise to the top was a story everyone whispered about, but no one dared to challenge.
She was brilliant, tenacious, and had an air of authority that made her presence impossible to ignore. But what truly set her apart was the way she unknowingly had every driver—and their girlfriends—wrapped around her finger. They were utterly, hopelessly obsessed with her, and Y/N remained blissfully unaware, thinking it was just the normal way people treated their boss.
Exhibit 1: Dinner with George and Carmen
It was a rare off-day between races, and Y/N found herself in London at George’s request. The Mercedes driver had insisted on taking her out to dinner with his girlfriend Carmen joining them.
“I’m glad you agreed to come, Y/N,” George smiled as he pulled out a chair for her. “You’ve been working way too hard.”
Carmen leaned in, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “Yes, you need to relax sometimes. You’re always so busy.”
Y/N chuckled, feeling a bit flustered by their attention. “Thanks, guys, but it’s all part of the job, right? I mean, this season has been crazy.”
George leaned closer, casually placing his hand on the back of her chair, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. “You’re the youngest team principal in F1 history, Y/N. You’re allowed to take a break now and then. Let us take care of you tonight.”
Carmen nodded in agreement, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s arm. “We wouldn’t want you burning out, would we?”
Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth that she couldn’t quite place. “You guys are too sweet. I’m just trying to keep up, you know?”
The dinner passed with easy laughter and conversation, and Y/N was too busy enjoying herself to notice how both George and Carmen kept finding excuses to touch her—a hand on her arm here, a brush of fingers there. It was as if they couldn’t bear to be too far away from her.
---
Exhibit 2: A Mallorcan Escape with Carlos and Rebecca
The invitation had been impossible to refuse. Carlos had insisted on whisking Y/N away to Mallorca for a weekend of sun, relaxation, and good company. Rebecca was there too, constantly checking in to make sure Y/N was enjoying herself.
“This place is incredible,” Y/N said as she stepped out onto the balcony of their luxury villa, the Mediterranean Sea sparkling in the distance.
Carlos grinned, his hand resting comfortably on her lower back as he guided her to the sun lounger. “You deserve a break, Y/N. You’re always taking care of everyone else.”
Rebecca handed Y/N a cold drink, her smile warm and sincere. “Exactly. It’s our turn to look after you.”
Y/N blushed, sipping the drink as she looked out at the waves. “You guys are too nice. Honestly, I’m fine.”
Carlos laughed, sitting down beside her and casually resting his arm across the back of her chair, his fingers lightly grazing her shoulder. “Nice has nothing to do with it, Y/N. We just really enjoy spending time with you.”
Rebecca nodded, her hand resting on Y/N’s knee in a gesture that was both comforting and possessive. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Y/N just smiled, thinking how lucky she was to have friends like them, completely missing the way both Carlos and Rebecca watched her every move with an intensity that went far beyond simple friendship.
---
Exhibit 3: Shopping Spree with Pierre and Kika
Y/N had never been a big shopper, but when Pierre and Kika insisted on a shopping trip in Milan, she couldn’t say no. The day was a blur of designer stores, laughter, and playful teasing.
“You’d look amazing in this,” Kika said, holding up a sleek black dress against Y/N.
Pierre nodded in agreement, his hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s waist as he leaned in to inspect the dress. “Try it on. We’re not leaving until you do.”
Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “You guys are relentless. I’m supposed to be the boss, remember?”
Pierre smirked, giving her a light nudge toward the dressing room. “Not today, Y/N. Today, you’re our princess.”
Kika giggled, grabbing Y/N’s hand and dragging her along. “Exactly. And our princess needs a new wardrobe.”
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she tried on outfit after outfit, completely unaware of the way Pierre’s eyes lingered on her every time she emerged from the dressing room, or how Kika’s hand never left hers for long.
---
Exhibit 4: Movie Night with Max and Kelly
It was a cozy night in Monaco, and Max had convinced Y/N to come over for a low-key movie night. Kelly had made popcorn, and the three of them were snuggled up on the couch.
“You’ve been working too hard again,” Kelly said, her voice soft as she adjusted the blanket around Y/N’s shoulders. “You need to relax.”
Max nodded, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, his fingers gently playing with the ends of Y/N’s hair. “Yeah, you need to slow down sometimes. You’re making us all look bad.”
Y/N laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Oh, please. You guys are the ones driving the cars at insane speeds every weekend.”
Max grinned, his hand dropping to rest on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “And you’re the one making all the tough calls. That’s way more stressful.”
Kelly leaned in closer, her head resting lightly against Y/N’s. “We’re just glad you’re here. We love spending time with you.”
Y/N smiled, thinking how comforting it was to have Max and Kelly around. She missed the way Max’s thumb traced circles on her shoulder and the way Kelly’s fingers intertwined with hers under the blanket, as if they were afraid to let her go.
---
Exhibit 5: Yacht Day with Charles and Alexandra
When Charles invited Y/N out on his yacht, she thought it would be a casual day in the sun. But from the moment she stepped on board, she realized she was in for something far more luxurious.
“This is… wow,” Y/N breathed, taking in the sight of the pristine white yacht against the crystal blue waters of the French Riviera.
Charles smiled, his hand lingering on the small of her back as he guided her to a sunbed. “Only the best for our favorite team principal.”
Alexandra appeared with drinks, offering one to Y/N with a bright smile. “You deserve this, Y/N. You never take time for yourself.”
Y/N settled onto the sunbed, feeling the warmth of the sun and the company of her friends. “You guys are always spoiling me. I’m really not that special.”
Charles chuckled, leaning back beside her, his leg brushing against hers. “Oh, but you are, Y/N. You’re the heart of the paddock.”
Alexandra nodded in agreement, her hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s as they basked in the sun. “And we all adore you.”
Y/N blushed, not quite understanding why they were always so kind, but grateful all the same.
---
Exhibit 6: Golfing with Alex and Lily
Golf wasn’t Y/N’s sport, but when Alex and Lily insisted on a day out on the greens, she couldn’t say no. The trio laughed their way through the course, with Alex playfully showing Y/N how to swing properly, his hands guiding hers.
“You’ve got this, Y/N,” Alex said, his chest pressed against her back as he adjusted her stance. “Just focus.”
Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushed from the proximity. “You make it look so easy.”
Lily watched them with a knowing smile, resting her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’ll get the hang of it. You’re already a pro at everything else.”
Y/N shook her head, trying to concentrate as Alex’s touch sent an unexpected thrill through her. “You guys are way too nice to me.”
Alex and Lily exchanged a look, one that Y/N missed entirely as she tried to focus on her swing. They were both addicted to her presence, to the way she brightened every room she walked into.
---
As the season went on, Y/N continued to be the center of attention in ways she never quite understood. Every driver and their partners found excuses to spend time with her, to touch her, to keep her close. And though she often felt overwhelmed by their affection, she chalked it up to just having great friends in the paddock.
But to everyone else, it was clear: Y/N wasn’t just a team principal. She was the object of an unspoken obsession, the one person they all couldn’t bear to be without. And whether she realized it or not, they were all just a little bit in love with her.
1K notes · View notes
flickering-chandelier · 7 months ago
Text
Was Any Of It True?
Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader
Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.
Based on this request! 🩷
✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨
Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes
Word Count: 10.2k   oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off
“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.
“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”
“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”
Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”
Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”
He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”
“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”
“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.
“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore. 
No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.
He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin. 
Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. 
Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”
She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen. 
“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.
Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”
Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.
“I have a proposition for you.”
He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”
“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.
“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.
Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?” 
Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.
He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”
She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her. 
“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”
“Just hear me out!”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.
“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.
He looked pointedly at her. “And?”
“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.
“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.
Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”
Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”
She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.
He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.
Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.
“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.
“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.
To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”
He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”
“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.
“What?” Azriel asked.
“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”
He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”
She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked. 
He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”
Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”
---
You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…
Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --
“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice. 
You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous. 
His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. 
All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.
“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.
“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.
He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”
“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked. 
“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”
His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”
“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.
“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”
You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”
He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”
A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”
He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously. 
You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”
You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”
The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”
Rolling your eyes, you told him.
“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”
“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”
“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.
“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.
Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”
You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”
He shrugged casually. “I like you.”
“You don't know me!”
“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”
You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”
He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”
“What date?” You blanched.
He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”
You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was. 
As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”
For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.” 
His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.
“Can't wait.”
You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text. 
Az: Done studying yet?
It was an effort to bite down your smile. 
You: Taking a break for dinner. 
It was less than a minute before he responded. 
Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?
You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.
You: A little cliche, don’t you think?
Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?
You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?
Az: We’re playing tennis?
You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.
Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.
You: Shut up.
Az: See you tomorrow ;)
You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.
The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?
Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere. 
He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.” 
You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.
“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in. 
“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”
You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”
He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”
“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased. 
His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”
You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”
Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.
“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.
You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago. 
Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”
He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green. 
You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”
“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”
He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.
“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”
You nodded, not sure where to go from here.
Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high. 
“You are. I can tell.”
You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.
“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled. 
“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed. 
So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing. 
“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment. 
“Okay,” you breathed. 
He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club. 
“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady. 
His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”
You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.
“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured. 
You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”
“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”
That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away. 
The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”
He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole. 
He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around. 
You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”
“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked. 
His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering. 
“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”
He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”
You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.
He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”
You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”
Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”
Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.
“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.
His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.
“I think so, too,” you breathed.
His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.
You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.
When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.
He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.
Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.
Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it. 
He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. 
When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.
You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”
He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”
Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”
“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.
You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.
A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.
You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.
So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.
---
Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.
And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.
He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.
He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.
Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished. 
With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.
So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.
This would be a mess.
If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.
He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back. 
He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.
“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”
Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”
You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”
He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that. 
Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”
You sighed, shifting on your feet. 
“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”
You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.
He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.
Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.
When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.
“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.
He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.
He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.
Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.
When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.
“Have fun?” He smirked.
“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless. 
“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.
You laughed, glancing behind him at the house. 
He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”
Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.
You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly. 
His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him. 
“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.
“Sure,” you said.
He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him. 
Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side. 
You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”
He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear. 
You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple. 
Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.
“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned. 
You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”
Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”
He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood. 
Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap. 
“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you. 
Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”
“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.
He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard. 
“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.
“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”
“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.
He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”
Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”
Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”
Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”
Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside. 
Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”
He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”
You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest. 
It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.
After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you. 
“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.
“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now. 
He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”
You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked. 
“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again. 
Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”
“Yeah?” he said, surprised.
You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”
He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”
You beamed, your whole face lighting up. 
Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now. 
The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.
He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red. 
Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw. 
He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you. 
Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked. 
You nodded, your eyes still frantic. 
He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her. 
When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” 
“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”
“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.
“I’m okay,” you said quietly. 
He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”
He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him. 
Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.
Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.
The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…
Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.
---
“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.
Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…
You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”
For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”
You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”
“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety. 
“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.
He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.” 
Before you could even respond, he was out the door. 
You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.
Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive. 
In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day. 
You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him. 
He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave. 
So, soon. You would tell him soon.
--- 
Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.
He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show. 
And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this. 
And he knew. He loved you.
This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true. 
And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil. 
He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester. 
But now his time was up. 
He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it. 
Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred. 
Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”
She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”
“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”
Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”
Azriel blinked. 
Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”
He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.
She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”
Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”
A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.
“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one. 
He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.
---
The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard. 
You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did. 
Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.
You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.
A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you. 
You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection. 
“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.
His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”
Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours. 
Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice. 
Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket. 
Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”
Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next. 
Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?
“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic. 
You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.
They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking. 
You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out -- 
It was all fake. All of it. 
Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out. 
When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”
“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”
“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him. 
“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you. 
“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.
“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels. 
You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?” 
“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.
You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”
It didn’t matter. But you had to know.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”
You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away. 
Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”
“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking. 
He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”
You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice. 
Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”
Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”
He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”
Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going. 
Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.
You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands. 
You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury. 
Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous. 
How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?
What the hell were you supposed to do now?
You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.
I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that. 
I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.
I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?
Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door. 
You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”
“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”
You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”
Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”
Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.” 
His face fell. “I love you.”
Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”
He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”
Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”
Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it. 
You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”
His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.
“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.
“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”
He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”
You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway. 
Without another word, you shut the door.
Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects. 
It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing. 
By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.
Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered. 
You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt. 
A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer. 
Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️
Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?
Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.
Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.
“Hi,” you said softly. 
He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”
“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad. 
A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.
“I miss you,” he said quietly. 
You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted. 
Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured. 
“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”
He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”
You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”
“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”
“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.
---
You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had. 
For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement. 
It may have been slightly unhealthy.
You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would. 
Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?
As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure. 
 ---
Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked. 
The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you. 
Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.
Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations. 
Soon, he would know.
---
It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you. 
And you used to feel at home with Azriel. 
You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously. 
Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though. 
Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:
Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well. 
The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.
For the first time since everything, you texted him back.
Thanks, Az. Yours, too. 
He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:
Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight? 
His reply came at lightning speed:
7?
Reigning in your smile, you replied:
7.
You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking. 
Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps. 
“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly. 
You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand. 
Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you. 
His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. 
“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”
“Okay,” he said quietly. 
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”
You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling. 
“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.
“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”
Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours. 
He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”
The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes. 
You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply. 
You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.
Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”
“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.
“I love you, too.”
“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.
You giggled. “I missed you, too.”
He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”
Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”
“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”
The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers. 
Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.
“What?” you asked. 
He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”
You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”
Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”
A/N: wanna see more of these two?? Check out part 2!
@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch
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