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cheyisagirlkisser · 3 days ago

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—Charity Girl—

Jackson Ellie x Fem! reader one-shot

Content: Slightly enemies to lovers, Ellie’s an asshole, AFAB reader, mentions of death and slightly graphic description, smut, nipple play, oral sex (r! receiving), making out, Ellie isn’t very cannon so if that peeves you don’t read this, mentions of weed, set in TLOU 2 universe, Joel is alive!!, this is unedited so lmk if there is any typos

Word Count: 5k

Description: You love Jackson, and you like helping people out. From farm chores to playing chess with the elderly, you’re liked around Jackson for being a charitable girl. You think everyone deserves some kindness. Everyone except Ellie, who can’t seem to find it in her to be nice to the one person who doesn’t deserve a harsh word.

God, you hated Ellie Williams.

You didn't want to say you hated her. You were a friendly person and you tried to be respectful to everyone. You even tolerated Seth, who was one of Jackson's conservative-minded guys. You rightfully disliked him, but you still remained civil when it came to professional matters.

However, it was just so hard to remain that way with Ellie. You didn't even know how truly irritating she was just seeing her around town, glancing over at her before she left for patrols with usually Jesse, Dina, Tommy, or Joel. She seemed pretty likable, at least from what you had heard. She moved to Jackson a while ago, before you even arrived at the settlement. You had never really needed to talk or had any interest in becoming friends.

You were a kind girl, and everyone in Jackson knew that. You liked helping out even if patrols weren't your strong suit. You felt insecure in that category being a bit less into scavenging and the dangers that lurked outside the town, so you decided to at least make yourself a bit useful. You made it a habit to use your love of baking to bring cupcakes to the playground for all of the children to eat. Sometimes it made you a bit sad to think about how little they had growing up in a post-apocalyptic world, but that wasn't a thought you could dwell on. You also made sure to keep the few senior citizens company because most people just didn't have the time to spend with them. Not that you didn't understand that, but you didn't sign up for patrols voluntarily unless someone else was ill and needed you to cover for them, or Maria needed an extra person. But it was just heart warming to know you made an impact since many of the old folks in towns didn't have family to keep them company. You'd spend hours playing board games with them, baking those little pastries they all complimented, asking them about their days. You were an angel amongst Jackson.

You were also extremely known for helping with food related jobs, such as gardening and farming. It was rewarding, since even though currency was quite useless in the world nowadays, you had the income of being able to take home vegetables, milk, butter, and even eggs when the chickens were active.

You mostly got along with anyone, and you tried to be a humble person. You just wanted to make the most of what you had. However, Ellie was..well, she was something. You'd soon be learning that.

It was summer, and everything was going fine for you. The sunlight hit Jackson in the most divine way and birds were flying over the settlement. You finished up with collecting eggs from one of the henhouses, so you grabbed a few as payment and headed to the diner to drop off a few. Everything was relatively normal. You glanced over at the gate and noticed that Jesse and Ellie had just gotten back from a patrol. Jesse was laughing about something and Ellie looked amusingly irritated. You couldn't help but think to yourself about how she was a pretty girl. She always wore her hair in a low messy bun, bangs framing her freckled face. You always were curious about her, but you just wrote your thoughts off as simple appreciation for her.

After you distributed the eggs to the diner and the supply building, you headed home. It was a short walk since Jackson wasn't a majorly huge place. Your house was small since you moved there alone, but it still home. You opened the front door and stepped inside. You still smelled the candles you'd lit from the previous night when you had been watching movies on DVDs found outside of Jackson on your small television. It was always the same movies. 10 Things I hate about you, Forest Gump, Scream, the Blair Witch Project(which had scared you so badly you were afraid to go patrolling in the forest for 3 months straight; you pathetically begged Maria not to make you do patrols), and E.T. It was just a random assortment of movies you had found in an abandoned house in a town outside of Jackson, but entertainment was entertainment. Who were you to complain?

You opened your fridge and stored the eggs inside, and then spent the next few minutes internally debating what you could do with your free-time. You still had a few books on your shelf that were mainly unread, but you hated staying indoors and reading like a hermit. Well, it was a nice day. You shuffled over to your shelf and picked up a book you'd borrowed from Cat a while ago and never read: Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu. Apparently, it was a classic a few centuries ago. With the book in hand, you left your house to find the well-used bench outside of the Tipsy Bison. It was where you loved to just sit and socialize with people or read when you wanted to breathe in fresh air.

One thing about you was that you enjoyed nature. While you did hate patrols, the idea of having to fend for yourself being unappealing, you loved the beautiful parts of it. Some debated that the infection was a part of nature, and you knew that, too. But still, you preferred being in the safety of a settlement. You knew what it was like to spend time in the outside world and it wasn't pretty. You enjoyed inhaling the air, watching as people lived their lives. Mortality was so precious right now, and maybe that's why you tried so hard to get along with everyone. You thought everyone deserved kindness.

Still, this life you led was mundane and boring at times. You were slightly envious of the patrollers. People in the current world were often restless, and as much as you’d think Jackson’s residents would love a mundane life with safety, they craved the survival. Maybe it was from their own personal trauma, but you weren’t able get that same lapse in routine everyone else got. It made you crave something extra from life, always feeling as if something was missing. Life this way, spent working and your free-time devoted to simple things, felt too easy. It felt like a deal in which you didn’t know the conditions of, and you subconsciously believed every good thing in the world had a cost. This easy lifestyle had to have a price.

For the next 15 minutes, you began your reading on that small bench. That was, until you heard someone sit down next to you. You glanced over to see Ellie there, alone next to you without any of her companions. Not that she was incapable of being alone, of course, but Ellie was the type of person to be reserved to her select group. Not a social butterfly like you, but well liked in an ironic way. She was so effortlessly able to get people to like her while not caring about whether or not people liked her. You gave her a warm smile and quickly doggy-eared the page you were reading, closing the book and setting it down into your lap.

"Can I help you with something?" You asked, remaining polite. You knew you probably seemed short with her, but if you were being truthful, the girl made you a tad bit nervous. Really, she had a positive impression on your brain. Before you really got to know her, at least.

She shrugged, feigning indifference, and answered you in a voice that was slightly teasing, her voice lacking the type of friendly amusement you'd expect from her. "Just wanted to say hi. Why is it that you sit out here everyday? Do you not have anything else to do?"

You were a bit shocked by that reply to say the least. You didn't ever expect Ellie to be even slightly rude. However, you were trying to be friendly. You'd kill this with some kindness. "Well, it's a nice day. I like the fresh air, you know?" You answered, trying to not sound too defensive.

The girl simply gave you a look you couldn't identify. Slight disapproval, and something you couldn't read. "You like fresh air? I thought you hated being outside. You know, since you never volunteer to go outside the walls and contribute?"

Now, that started to peeve you. Ellie was gorgeous, but even your little crush on her that you didn't realize you even had would save her now. Still..you tried to be friendly. Kindness is a virtue, you reminded yourself. "Everyone has their preferences. I personally like helping with the animals and harvesting crops." Once again, you tried to not sound too defensive. Something about Ellie's demeanor, the way she was looking at you intently, it made you feel as if she was trying to tease you to get a reaction out of you.

"Well, suit yourself then. But people risk their lives for you. The least you could do is return the favor. That's all I had to say." And with that last comment, she just stood up and waved at you before walking off.

It was so hard not to catch up to her and ask her what her deal was, but that would cause more problems than it would solve for you. You sat on the bench, confused and frustrated.

The next few weeks, these little comments Ellie made to you continued. It was either some slight judgment about the book you were reading or that you spent too much time trying to look sweet that you were actually just useless. It was always with a tone that was so rude yet seemed teasing. You wondered if she meant any of it. You always tried to defend yourself, but you were starting to really despise Ellie. You considered talking to someone like Maria, Tommy, or Joel about it, but would they even believe you? Ellie was usually not so rude from the conversations you had overheard. She seemed like a normal girl. It was frustrating having nobody to tell this to. Your friends always laughed you off, saying that Ellie was probably just joking with you to be friendly and that you were misunderstanding her. Everyone in Jackson loved Ellie, and she seemed to get along with everyone just fine except for you. Still, you tried to be sweet. You would simply brush her off, pretend like she was just some old person who made subtle criticisms and not anything serious. It was just really starting to get to you, though. You wondered how long you could manage.

Turns out, you would have to manage a patrol with her. Someone did in fact become ill and had to turn down a patrol, so you volunteered. Only then did Maria seem to mention that your partner was Ellie. You wanted to beg to swap with someone else, but you didn't want to inconvenience anyone, so you accepted the fate. It was a foot patrol among the south trails. 8 hours of pure torture.

Foot patrols were entirely different matters than what usual patrols entail. For starters, usual patrols require horses and cover more distance. They’re less dangerous. Being on foot also requires you to trust your partner more, which you struggle to do with your current partner. You have to trust that they’ll cooperate with you and have your back if things get tough. However, foot patrols do not require patrollers to hit up the main buildings or hot spots. You only check into the small places around the area, such as the office downtown or the gun store a mile from the grocery store. You’re less likely to get ambushed by a horde of clickers that way.

The fact that it was a summer patrol instead of winter made it slightly better. You imagined what it’d be like if you and Ellie got trapped in a snowstorm and were locked into some grocery store together. Annoyingly enough, the idea of having to share body heat with her made your heart flutter more than you’d like to admit. Summer patrols meant you’d probably have to take a lot of rests so neither of you would overheat, however.v

The cork board outside of the supply station mocked you in a way with your name being beside Ellie’s. You truly began to wonder if you could handle being alone with the girl who subtly tormented you for weeks straight without finally snapping. You didn’t want to know what would happen if you snapped at her. Would she yell back, or maybe even report you to Maria? You just knew that your usual patience was wearing thin.

You went home and collapsed onto your bed, hoping that a good night’s sleep would somehow save you from the situation you’d be facing tomorrow. As if Ellie would suddenly leave you be if you got enough sleep—you were just truly desperate.

Night didn’t last forever, and you woke to the sight of light streaming through your curtains in small patches. You groaned and forced yourself to get out of bed. The alarm clock read “6 A.M.” Much too early to have to deal with Ellie Williams.

You took a quick shower just to freshen up and got ready for the day, messily tying your hair back and putting on a pair of tan cargo pants, a light button-up, and a pair of combat boots. Simple, but safe. You packed a bag with some emergency medical supplies including gauze, alcohol pads, and a bottle of ibuprofen. You knew that you'd be given a care package from the supply crew, but you liked to be safe.

You would always grab a shotgun and a pistol from the weaponry building. Most people would choose to take the rifles, but you found it easier to shoot a light pistol and shotguns were easier to aim with. You knew the more trained people, Ellie included, would bring knives or machetes to clear infected with. You didn't trust yourself to get so close to the infected, at least not without something like a gun. Extra ammo, and extra MREs. You always felt a bit more safe bringing just a few extra things in case of emergencies.

You remember when you arrived at Jackson, and you were assigned your very first patrol at 17. You spent hours before patrol preparing with extra equipment, and it soon became a habit to overthink the experience. Your partners would ask about it, maybe give you an odd look, but most people just got used to it after a while. Everyone assumed it was because of your life before Jackson, and they'd guessed right.

The children that were raised in Jackson were unfortunate to have even been born in such a dangerous world that can snatch away the people you care for most, but they at least grew up into safety. You were nomadic, moving from settlement to settlement, group to group, or even just setting up camp in the middle of a forest or abandoned city. It was a dangerous life, and it left you constantly losing sleep, waking up and wondering if your father who you traveled with would be able to protect you if something truly happened. If the two of you had the misfortune of stumbling upon a horde of infected or run into a slaver group. It was often that you'd sleep so lightly, even the sound of a mouse scurrying across an abandoned office floor would wake you. You were terrified with the thought of being eaten alive in your sleep or worse, bitten, and left to slowly lose your humanity.

The day your father was killed off wasn't much different than any other, and that resulted in your current state. Always being overprepared because maybe you could prevent sudden death. Just maybe if you brought one extra gauze strip, you'd somehow prevent past you from watching your father be torn apart from a clicker. Jackson was supposed to be a fresh start for you, so you always found yourself repeating the same phrase.

"Make the best of what you have, and don't dwell on what you've lost."

Sometimes you break your own rules, though.

It was around 6:45 when you arrived at the gates. The sun wasn't up yet, and that meant flashlights would probably be necessary. One downside to summer patrol was that the sun set late, but the sun rose late, too. You anticipated the hues of orange and pink that would paint the sky and give you light.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Ellie cleared her throat, signaling she was here and ready to go. You stole a glance at her and your heart fell into your stomach.

She looked messy and somehow so gorgeous that it hurt. She had a slightly masculine energy to her with a pair of brown leathers boots and boot-cut dark jeans that still found a way to hug her thighs so deliciously. She wore a short-sleeve t-shirt you'd seen on her before and her low bun had strands falling out of it, strands you secretly wanted to tuck behind her ears.

You scratched those thoughts out of your head when she opened her mouth.

"Are you conscious? We need to get moving." She had a slightly scolding tone that made you want to bite back with something just as condescending, but you held back.

Instead, you simply nodded, and Ellie probably could've sworn that you had veins popping out of your forehead. Who could've blamed you? Ellie was such an asshole to you.

Ellie's mind was an extremely complicated place. Her thoughts were quick, and she felt the need to always be on task. However, one difference between the two of you was that she got into trouble at times. It was quite inevitable though, especially when she was friends with Dina and Jesse.

Incidents like getting high off her ass on patrol, messing around with a squeaky toy and accidently attracting a group of walkers, losing her temper and pissing off a group of stragglers, or when her and Jesse abused the walkie-talkies.

She was naturally in need of routine breaks, and maybe that's why she teased you so much. She felt a little envious. You were this perfect girl, sweet as they come, who cared for the people in town who didn't usually have company. You didn't do patrols and you were still an incredibly hard worker in ways Ellie felt lacking, because there were so many people around town who kissed your ass for doing something as simple as milking the cows.

That wasn't all Ellie's thoughts about you were based around, though. Something about how boring your life was somehow appealed to her, and she hated herself for even thinking about you. She also shouldn't have been obsessing over a girl who was probably straight, like most girls in Jackson, of course. But something about you really made her want to break you and see you snap. Maybe that's why she spent so much time trying to get a reaction out of you. She knew she was being a dickhead to you, but she still just needed to see that snap. She'd finally be able to know that you were more than just some nice girl, then.

Truth was, Ellie was probably in love with you with the amount she thought about you. Insulting you was so easy, though. It was so easy to pretend that she didn't like you than to make an effort to impress you and be herself. She was scared of letting you know who she actually was because you may reject her forreal, and she couldn't handle that.

So it was best to pretend like she enjoyed being extremely condescending to you.

The first two hours of patrol was spent walking in close proximity on the trails south of the creek. You could practically smell the water, and you could feel the slight breeze that gave you some relief the extreme heat. Every now and then you'd take a sip of water and look around cautiously. Caution was something you couldn't live without, and Ellie seemed to take a notice to that. It was just your lucky day that she was in the mood to be an asshole to you again.

She'd make small remarks to you, sometimes questioning the way your hands trembled anxiously, or asking you why you didn't bring any good weapons. When it was lunch time, she laughed at the ridiculous amount of rations in your backpack. Slowly, you felt peeved. Why was Ellie such a bitch to you? You knew she didn't actually care about these things, yet she loved to point them out in the most grating voice she could muster up. After one particular comment that was something along the lines of "You know, it's embarrassing that someone else had to get sick for you do take a patrol shift" that finally made you snap.

You halted along the trail and turned to face her, a sudden irrational wave of anger flooding your system. "What the fuck is your problem?! Are you just mad because you hate me? Is that it? I don't understand what I did to deserve you constantly criticizing me!" You snapped, voice clear with anger. You stepped forward and you wanted to slap her across the face, hardly holding back from doing so. Ellie sensed this and maybe she felt a twinge of fear and something else you didn't even notice. This was odd seeing as she could easily kick your ass. Her back hit a large tree, her eyes widened as if she couldn't have possibly predicted this reaction. This only made you more irritated.

You stepped forward, your body close enough to hears that you could hear her inhale and exhale, and it was a shaky sound that you would've questioned if it weren't for your anger serving as a distraction. "Answer me, asshole! Why do you hate me so much?! Just fucking-" And you were cut off with a kiss.

Her hands desperately grasped at your face, pulling you closer as she kissed you. It wasn't the standard type of sweet kiss in which two people would brush up against each other's lips. She was practically devouring you with her need. At first, you couldn't process what was happening. Ellie was kissing you so hard you felt almost lightheaded. But for some reason, all of the anger you felt was flushed away as you began to kiss her back.

Ellie took some initiative and flipped you around so that you were backed up against the tree, the rough bark digging into your back. However, you couldn't focus on any discomfort present in your body. All you could feel was the numbing swell of your lips as Ellie's practically bruised yours. You felt her teeth bite on your bottom lip, and you let out a pathetic moan. Her hands were somehow everywhere, from your face to the sides of your body as if she was trying to pull the warmth from your body.

She tasted so fucking good, it was hard to stop. You could faintly taste copper from where she bit down onto your lip, but you could also taste her in such an intimate way, it was more emotional than it seemed. A mix of her toothpaste, and an Earthiness you'd imagined she'd contain. The two of you were lost in each other that patrol was all but forgotten.

You finally had to pull away to breathe, but she needed more. Her hands trailed across your chest, palming at your tits through your shirt. You tilted your head back against the tree, and she took the opportunity to leave hungry kisses on your pulse point, probably sucking hard enough on your skin to leave hickey's you'd lecture her about later. But for now, you didn't care.

It was all a blur, her pulling at your clothes and the both of you left naked against the tree not long after. She tugged at your hair while lapping at your tits, and this made you breathless. "Ellie, please.." You didn't even know what you were begging for.

She let out a soft noise and released the latch she had on one of your tits. “Fuck, I like this version of you so much better than the other one..” She said, her voice riddled with an obvious sense of need that made your thigh involuntarily clench. She moved upwards, her tongue meeting your collarbone and then up to your jaw. She kissed down the side of your neck, the heat of her mouth and the wetness of her tongue enveloping you. You tilted your head back, your breathing coming out in soft pants. You didn’t understand how you could hate her moments before and somehow be a mess for her now. You really wanted to hate how good it felt, but you really couldn’t even find an ounce of fight left in you to try and push her away. You didn’t want to push her away.

Her hands moved to your tits, kneading them softly, pinching your nipples while she mouthed at the sensitive spot between your shoulder and neck. It felt like heaven the way her lips caressed your skin.

She moved much too slowly down your body, kissing both of your stiff nipples before sliding her tongue down your navel. Her hands pulled at your waist and you couldn’t help but arch your back slightly to meet her mouth as it moved against your thighs. She tried to tease you as best she could while being so horny as well, but soon she gave up on the idea altogether.

“Fuck, you’re so wet..” Was the last thing she muttered before the heat of her mouth finally pressed up against your cunt making you clench around nothing. She parted your thighs gently and you struggled to stay standing against the tree. Your hands tangled into her hand to find purchase as her tongue lapped at your clit like you were dinner. Not like rations or canned soup you’d typically find lying around in an old grocery store, but a michelin star meal. You were far too expensive for her budget and she was taking advantage of the sample she got. She imagined what it’d be like to have you everyday, to be able to bring you please like this for hours on end. But she was too far gone to really dwell on the thought long before she was wrapping her soft lips around your clit and giving it a suck, making you tug on her roots and rocking your hips against her mouth, grinding your wet cunt against her mouth. She was so warm and you were soaking for her, and it was absolutely perfect.

Sometimes, you had overheard philosophical drunken conversions at the Tipsy Bison. People with flushed cheeks would talk of hatred. That was nothing new; hatred was always common in the world, even before the infection. But hearing someone talk about how hatred is just a negative type of love, now that part stuck with you. You could feel hatred for Ellie while she worked at your cunt, you told yourself. You repeated into your head that hate was unglorified love. Maybe it was desire, too.

But you struggled to keep that notion in your head as her tongue swirled around you teasingly before not holding back one bit. And before you knew it, you were a goner. Your breaths grew shorter as your climax finally took over, your knees nearly buckling as you let out a loud cry against the release you were feeling. You were violently tugging at her auburn strands, making her moan in return, only sending more shocks through your body as you felt her send warm vibrations through your pussy.

You nearly forgot how to speak.

Eventually, you went limp against the tree, and she stood up to hold you close. Your breaths were ragged for a while and the two of you remained silent until she broke it with a soft sigh.

“I am sorry for being a jerk..I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.” She whispered softly, her breath hitting your neck.

Finally, you found your voice again, though it was unsteady and quiet. “I just didn’t understand..I still don’t. I thought you hated me.”

She frowned at that and hugged your tightly, which showed to you that this moment was much more than sexual desire shared between the two of you. “No, I don’t hate you. I’m just an idiot, okay? I was jealous, and I sort of liked you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you ever.”

That made your heart beat just a little faster. “You…like me back?” You asked, needing her to say it just one more time.

“Yes. I like you too. I swear, I think I’m in love with you the way I’m so obsessed with you. You were always taking up space in my mind..it was driving me insane.” She admitted, and it caused you to lean forward to plant a soft kiss on her lips. Both of your lips were still kiss-swollen and your body was shaking with the after-glow of your orgasm, but this kiss was much more gentle than the previous. It was soft and made you even more weak than her tongue did. Which was saying a lot.

She hugged you tightly, her hands finding purchase at your waist. You thought about getting dressed and going on with patrol, but none of it felt right now. The situation gave you that lapse in routine you needed, and you knew you were probably addicted to the feeling of Ellie’s presence now. Somehow, you couldn’t care less. That was a first.

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie smut #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #tlou smut #the last of us part 2 #lesbian sex

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oldsoul007 · 3 days ago

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taste

nicholas chavez x ex!reader

a/n: no disrespect to either of them or relationship all of this is just fiction!

Nicholas and y/n had a special connection when they dated. Their time together was filled with laughter, shared secrets, and memorable moments. However, as life moved on, they drifted apart, and Nicholas eventually found himself in a new relationship with a girl named Victoria.

Victoria is wonderful—kind, smart, and everything Nicholas could ask for in a girlfriend. Yet, despite his happiness with her, y/n is always in the back of his mind. He often finds himself reminiscing about the times he spent with y/n, the unique bond they shared, and the way she understood him like no one else.

Even though Nicholas tries to focus on his present with Victoria, there are moments when a song, a place, or a random memory brings y/n back to the forefront of his thoughts. He wonders how she's doing, if she thinks about him too, and whether their paths will cross again. This lingering presence of y/n in his mind makes him question if he ever truly moved on, or if a part of him will always belong to her.

Nicholas and Victoria were out for a casual stroll one Saturday afternoon when they unexpectedly ran into y/n. The encounter took Nicholas by surprise, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Y/n looked as beautiful and confident as ever, and seeing her brought a rush of memories flooding back.

"Hey, y/n. It's been a while. How have you been?" Nicholas asked, trying to keep his composure.

"I've been good. Just busy with work and everything. How about you?" Y/n replied with a warm smile.

"I've been alright. This is Victoria, by the way. Victoria, this is y/n," Nicholas introduced them, his voice slightly shaky.

"Nice to meet you, y/n!" Victoria said cheerfully.

"Nice to meet you too, Victoria. So, what have you been up to, Nicholas?" Y/n asked, her eyes lingering on him.

"Oh, you know, just the usual. Work's been keeping me busy. It's really good to see you, though," Nicholas responded, feeling a mix of emotions.

"Yeah, it's good to see you too. You look well," y/n said, her smile softening.

"Thanks. You too," Nicholas managed to say, his mind racing.

Victoria, sensing the tension, chimed in, "We should catch up sometime, all of us. It would be fun."

"Sure, that sounds nice," y/n agreed. "Well, I should get going. It was great running into you both."

"Yeah, take care, y/n," Nicholas said, watching her walk away.

As y/n disappeared into the crowd, Nicholas couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. He realized that his feelings for her were still very much alive, leaving him deep in thought about what to do next.

Victoria and Nicholas had been having a wonderful evening at home when the topic of y/n came up. It started innocently enough, with Nicholas mentioning their recent encounter.

"You know, it was really nice seeing y/n the other day," Nicholas said, trying to keep his tone casual.

Victoria's expression changed slightly. "Yeah, it was. But, Nicholas, I've noticed you talk about her a lot lately."

Nicholas looked puzzled. "What do you mean? She's just an old friend."

"Is she really just an old friend?" Victoria asked, her voice growing more tense. "Because it feels like there's more to it."

Nicholas sighed. "Victoria, you're overthinking this. Y/n and I have history, but that's all in the past. You're the one I'm with now."

Victoria shook her head. "I don't know, Nicholas. It just feels like there's something unresolved between you two. And it bothers me."

Nicholas's frustration began to show. "What do you want me to do, Victoria? I can't erase my past. Y/n is a part of it, but she doesn't have to be a threat to us."

"I just need to know that you're fully committed to us," Victoria said, her eyes pleading.

"I am committed to us," Nicholas said firmly. "But I can't change the fact that y/n was a big part of my life. You have to trust me."

Victoria looked away, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's hard to trust when I see how you look at her."

Nicholas softened, stepping closer to her. "Victoria, I love you. I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel secure. But you have to believe me when I say that Lauren is just a friend now."

Victoria nodded slowly, wiping her tears. "Okay, Nicholas. I believe you. But let's not talk about y/n anymore. Let's focus on us."

"Agreed," Nicholas said, pulling her into a hug. "Let's focus on us."

As they held each other, Nicholas hoped that this would be the end of the tension between them. He knew he had to prove his commitment to Victoria and make sure she felt secure in their relationship.

Nicholas and Victoria were at the local bar when they unexpectedly bumped into y/n again. It was a moment of surprise for all three, but Victoria's reaction was different. As she watched Nicholas and y/n exchange warm smiles and familiar glances, something clicked in her mind. She realized that the connection between Nicholas and y/n was deeper than she had ever imagined. It was in that instant that Victoria understood the true nature of their bond, and a mix of emotions washed over her, leaving her both intrigued and contemplative about what this meant for their future.

Nicholas and Victoria were sitting in their living room when the tension that had been building up finally reached a boiling point. The topic of y/n had come up once again, and it was clear that Victoria was not happy about it.

"Nicholas, I can't believe you're still hung up on her," Victoria said, frustration evident in her voice. "Every time we run into y/n, you act like she's the only person in the room."

Nicholas sighed, rubbing his temples. "Victoria, it's not like that. Y/n and I have a history, yes, but it doesn't mean I'm still in love with her. We're just friends now."

"Friends? Really?" Victoria shot back. "Because it sure doesn't seem that way. You get this look in your eyes whenever she's around, like you're remembering something more than just a friendship."

"That's not fair," Nicholas replied, his voice rising. "I can't control how I feel. But I'm with you now, and that's what matters."

"But is it really?" Victoria asked, her eyes filling with tears. "Because it feels like I'm always competing with her ghost. I need to know that you're fully here with me, not just physically but emotionally too."

Nicholas took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Victoria, I care about you a lot. I don't want you to feel like you're second to anyone. I'm sorry if I've made you feel that way."

Victoria looked at him, her expression softening slightly. "I just need to know that I can trust you, Nicholas. That you're not going to run back to her the moment things get tough between us."

"I promise you, Victoria," Nicholas said, taking her hand. "I'm committed to us. I'll do whatever it takes to prove that to you."

As they sat there, holding each other's hands, they both realized that this was a turning point in their relationship. They had to work through these issues if they wanted to move forward together.

Nicholas had been feeling increasingly guilty about his relationship with Victoria. He knew deep down that he couldn't continue pretending everything was fine. One evening, he finally mustered the courage to talk to her.

"Victoria, we need to talk," Nicholas began, his voice heavy with emotion. "I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to you or to me. I still have feelings for y/n, and it's not right to lead you on."

Victoria looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of hurt and understanding. "I knew this was coming, Nicholas. I just hoped things would change."

"I'm so sorry," Nicholas said, his heart breaking at the sight of her tears. "You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, and I can't do that right now."

After the difficult conversation, Nicholas felt a weight lift off his shoulders, but he was also filled with a sense of loss. He decided to reach out to y/n, needing someone to talk to.

"Y/n, I ended things with Victoria," he confessed over the phone. "I couldn't keep pretending. But now, I feel so lost."

Y/n’s voice was gentle but firm. "Nicholas, I still love you, but we can't be together. Not right now. You need to figure things out for yourself first."

Nicholas sighed, feeling the sting of her words. "I understand, y/n. I just needed to hear your voice."

They both knew that this was a time for healing and self-discovery. Even though they couldn't be together, their connection remained a source of comfort and strength for Nicholas.

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cvnt4him · 2 days ago

Text

Wardrobe malfunction. ᯓ Izuku x kirishima

synopsis ᯓ ❝ you're on your way to check up on your friends to see if they've gotten all suited up in their Mirko outfits for the photoshoot, you see one of them had a bit of trouble..izuku being the helpful guy he is, he offers the red haired foe a hand,.. things get a little..too handy in the meantime..❞

warnings ➪ m!sub, soft!dom zuzu, mm4f, anal, oral m recieve, fingering, spit mention, slight hair pulling

day 9; ೃ࿔ 𝑐𝑣𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯!

Your former classmates back in highschool and you were getting ready to do a photoshoot you all done once before; a reunion type of thing. You were honoring and representing the infamous pro hero Mirko by wearing her hero outfit.

Once you were all suited up, your makeup and hair done so nicely, you ready yourself to check on your peers. Walking down the halls you check on most to all of your friends. Peeping in their dressing rooms to assure they're alright and other things.

“ everything good in here?”

“ better than ever!!”

Your friend mina said, you give her a warm smile before closing the door behind you.

You soon then walk to midoriya's dressing room, you knock gently and call out to check on him only to get no response.

“ I'm coming in...”

You open the door to an empty dressing room. That's rather odd? Maybe he was by the snack bar? You hear a sudden chatter in the dressing room down the hall and walk towards the noise.

“ kirishima.. maybe he's seen deku?”

You peek your ear at the door,...not to eavesdrop just to.....listen..quietly.

“ these measurements...it's a shame after all these years they still haven't gotten mine right..”

“ hmm, what do you mean kiri?”

“ just that I spill out in certain.....places...”

“ ahh, I see...”

“ i thought they gave you a bigger suit this time to fix it...here let me see..”

“ I mean it's just embarrassing... I don't understand how they keep messing it up.....”

You hum to yourself and slowly open the door with a knock before announcing yourself.

“ uh- hey, is everything alright in here?”

“ oh! y/n, hello! now isn't... a good time.. come back later?”

“ oh. I see well, I can come back another ti— ”

“ what no! c’mon let her stay! we could use the extra company!”

“ well.. I just figured since your suit is uhm......,

The green hair maled paused as he looked kirishima up and down with a nervous smile.

-,th-that maybe you would need some privacy..?”

“ nah it's all good! come on in y/n!”

You smile at the friendly giant and welcome yourself into his dressing room. You close the door behind you as you stand next to deku and offer him a polite smile. To no surprise he gives you one right back.

“ so, uh, whats going on-.. woah.”

“ oh kirishima...”

“ I've got it fixed see!”

The red haired male turns away from the mirror to show you both how he "fixed" his situation.

Neither of you dare to look away just staring at the man's crotch. Izuku was quite flustered unknowing of what to do or even to say. You were in the same boat, how were you supposed to speak when this guys cock was literally bulging against the suit; he wasn't even hard?!

“ you really have no shame, huh.”

“ shame? nah man! shames unmanly!”

Well..you gotta respect his morals. He was cute to say the least, his die hard attitude and constant cheery personality. It was different and definitely comfortable to be around. He was a naturally positive guy. You couldn't help but smile at his words.

“ you look amazing y/n! like a cute little bunny!”

Izuku was quick to agree complimenting and pointing out small details that suits your body so well before realizing what he was saying and saying away. Idiots

“ well, I'm glad they at least got your measurements right.. they can never seem to get mine accurate.”

“ you're a big guy, you seem to get bigger every time I see you haha!”

“ y'know she's not wrong kiri.”

“ it seems to fit you everywhere but uhm... there. I can help if you'd like!”

Izuku hums to himself before offering a helping hand. Kirishima was quickly flushed but soon agreed.

Wow.

You watched as izuku walked towards him and got down on his knees slowly in front of the man, eyes never leaving his. Kirishima gulped down and izukus hand raised to approach his crotch before he suddenly stopped.

“ uh, do you mind if I....?”

“ oh.. i- uh- uhm! no.. nope! go right ahead..!”

Izuku smiled for a quick second as an okay before he began trying to "help" the larger male. Your eyes widened in surprise. You were seriously watching your male friend sit with his face directly centered at your other male friends...dick. albeit clothed, but still.

It was an interesting watch to say the least. You felt slightly guilty... Should you turn away.. is-, is that most respectful? Is this something you shouldn't be watching orrr....

“ what uhm.. are you gonna do bro...?”

“ hmm... well, this is gonna sound very awkward but uh...,

Izuku looked down quickly then back up to kirishimas eyes.

have you ever uhm.. considered tucking?”

“ tucking?”

Holy hell.. quite the conversation. You choked on your spit at the mention. You wouldn't lie, you were intensely curious on why and how izuku knew what it was. Not that he was dumb or anything it's just not something you would imagine him needing to know. Or even knowing for that matter,... Or even recommending it to others?!

They both looked at you as you coughed concerned if you were alright, you caught your breath and gave them a thumbs up before their attention turned back to one another.

“ d..don't ask me how I know what it is but; it's where you uhm..tuck your "bits" so it gives you a flat appearance!”

“ it's just that....kirishima, you're very uhm. well endowed? I really think it could help.”

He explained it perfectly. You were too damn curious.

“ hm.. never heard of it...,”

“ yeah, how do you even know what that is, izuku?”

You tease questioning the man on his knees. He squeezed at the question slowly turning back to look at you with nervous eyes and a just as nervous chuckle before stammering on his words.

“ yeah, I'll try it.”

Kirishima was deep in thought before finally speaking up and causing izuku to shut up. Which izuku was thankful for.

“ oh, midoriya are you alright? your face is very red..”

“ y- yeah yeah! haha, I'm fine.. just.... here, let me help...”

“ m..midoriya....”

“ hang in there for me, kirishima..”

Fucking hell. Izuku was literally about to touch kirishimas cock. You gulped down and looked away turning your head and using your hand to half ass cover your vision. You admired the ceiling and even the mirror lights trying your hardest to ignore the little sounds you heard from the larger male.

Kirishima was utterly flustered, he didn't know what to do while izuku touched him gently. Izuku tried his hardest to get it done as quick as possible, y'know trying to help a friend out! But it didn't turn out as planned....

“ oh.. uhm, kirishima are you...hard?”

Fuck...

“ ah! uh- uhm, here! let me uh— ahem! Do that!”

You felt so out of place while everything went down; as you should feel. Yet you ridicule yourself for feeling a swirly feeling in your stomach...it's not like you wanted to see kirishimas cock hard or anything. Haha...hah.

Izuku looked up at the red haired male who quickly pulled away from izuku and turned around. He had such an non judgemental look in his wide green eyes. To be fair, it did look like he had nothing on his mind half the time when he looked at people with those big ass eyes but still.

“ im sorry it's just... uhm.. it's been a long time since..”

“ your hand is uhm.. surprisingly soft and,”

Izuku stood to his feet with a small snicker and a sweet smile.

“ oh, haha! thanks?”

You turned your gaze back and looked izuku up and down with a small smirk. He looked at you and blushed before rolling his eyes, his smile still present.

You look to kirishima who was a flustered mess, he was terribly red and trying his hardest to regain his composure.

“ it uhm... was my quirk guys, t.. totally..”

The look you and izuku gave each other then him was diabolical.

“ d.. don't look at me like that you guys!”

You both laugh to yourselves as kirishima buried his face in his hands with the tape. He groaned lowly and embarrassemingly.

“ y'know..”

You start, gaining both of their attentions with ease. You hum to yourself before a quick little grin appeared on your face.

“ there's no way you can tuck if you're hard.”

Izuku hummed as kirishima averted his gaze from the both of you, still very red and very embarrassed.

“ you're right.. we won't get anywhere if hes uhm, like that.”

“ what do you propose we do?”

Kirishima scoffs to himself before speaking,

“ well, there is one way I know that could get it down quickly heh, too bad we can't do that here huh?”

He jokes around with a small smile before looking to the two of you.

Izuku thinks and turns to you which causes you to smirk. The evil smirk that plastered across his freckled face was so damn hot, he looked like some sexy hero turned evil.

“ wait, wait ,wait, wait, what are you two looking at each other like that for...”

The freckled male chuckles lightly before turning to kirishima,

“ kiri, why don't you sit on the couch for us, hm?”

He points to the couch behind him and kirishima nods with a shaky breath and complies.

“ is this seriously happening..”

“ we can help you, if you'd like of course. there's no way we can send you out there while you're all... pent up.”

“ of course I'd let you! you both are sexy as hell, id let you both do whatever you wanted to me...”

A satisfied sigh left izuku as he peered down at the spiky haired male with pure lust covering his eyes; it was as if he was taken over by some sort of Incubus.

You smiled and stood beside izuku following his mead in this crazy escapade.

“ but..what do you want to do to me...”

Once again you two looked at each other a small nod being exchanged between the two.

“ well...”

“ we could.. get down on our knees, just like this.....”

Izuku says in a soft and sultry tone, slowly going down to his knees as you did the same, both of you in either side of his legs. Izukus hand on his knee.

“ then.....we could run our hands up your inner thighs, y'know where it's super.. sensitive.”

Izuku grabs your hand and places his on top, trailing it up and down his inner thigh next to his hardend bulge gently. Kirishima wasn't lying when he said izukus hands were soft.

Kirishima groaned quietly, covering his mouth with his hand to not let the shaky whimper out of hie mouth. It was as if izuku was extremely pleased with the way kirishima reacted beneath the two of you.

Izukus eyes trailed down to kirishimas cock as it twitched violently, the giggle that escaped izuku was not surprising, but shocking. He sighed and admired the sight in front of him.

“ we might have to hurry and get you out of the suit before you leak through it, hm?”

“ oh.. yeah for...for sure.”

It was more than obvious kirishimas was aching inside of the suir, his thick cock bulging against it, twitching and yearning to be touched. Izuku hummed and with tiur hands in his he placed both on top of kirishimas cock so you could feel the way it jerked up into your touch, the warmth of your palms.

You were shocked by his act of boldness, turning your gaze to the green haired male who was already looking at you with glazed over eyes, he wanted this, badly at that. Possibly just as bad ad kirishima clearly did he was just better at keeping his needs composed.

He gently rubbed your hands across kirishimas cock making him wince, he groaned lightly and closed his eyes. Neither of you noticed it but your faces were slowly moving closer to each other. Izukus eyes trailed down to your lips, gently biting his own as he quickly captured yours.

Kirishima opened his eyes to the sight of you two kissing, it was a slow yet passionate kiss. Izuku let out little mewls as you let his tongue invade your mouth, tongues swishing and swirling together as izuku peeked his eyes open a little to see. He was blushing furiously.

Kirishimas cock, unsurprisingly, leaked through the suit and got onto your hand causing you to stop the kiss and pull away, not only that but you had to catch your breath. Who knew izuku was an aggressive and needy kisser. Izuku tried his hardest to follow your lips, not wanting the kiss to end.

“ we should,.. hurry and get him out of the suit.”

“ yeah, you're right...”

Just as you both were about to remove it you all heard a loud boom and yelling coming from the other side of the door, and possibly the other side of the building. You jumped as izukus eyes shot to the door in a heroic instant, it's like he was scanning the other side of the room without even seeing through anything. His reflexes and instincts were like a dog, very assertive and on point.

Kirishima who was so blinded by lust and need he could hardly register what was going on, poor baby.

“ wait..maybe we should uh... check to see how much t..time we have.”

Izukus eyes turned back to kirishima as he seemed kind of disappointed.

“ yeah... uh- I mean, uhm yeah! y..you're right!”

“ hang on, let me text kaminari to see.”

They both agree and give you a moment, you stand and sit beside kirishima and izuku does the same. You text the blonde and question what was going and if he heard that loud noise ect ect.

You both text back and forth before he sends you a picture that causes you to snort aloud confusing the two men beside you.

“ what's going on?”

They both say in unison, looking at each other before back to you.

“ sorry sorry, I just.. pfft- katsukis lame ass!”

Denki had sent you a video of dynamite yelling at one of the workers trying to help him with the suit, according to denki they got his measurements wrong and made it way too big and he took it as a huge insult assuming they were thinking he was just blatantly fat and shit. Plus he hadn't eaten much so he was hangry as fuck.

They both chuckled and izuku couldn't help but to apologize for the angry blonde actions.

“ yeah that sounds like kacchan alright haha...sorry guys!”

“ did kaminari say how much time we had left?”

You had completely forgotten.

“ oh! Yeah, supposedly they ordered food and it's taking a long ass time to get here due to the doid not even being made yet, plus traffic and katsuki ssid he wasn't doing shit until hes eaten so, about an hour? hour and a half?”

“ maybe even longer depending on how much angrier katsuki gets”

“ hm that is true... so then we should be good for the time being, right?”

You nod in confirmation placing your phone down and facing the boys.

“ so do you guys still?”

Kirishima looked weary but nodded hesitantly, you give a quick nod and that was the confirmation izuku was looking for. He gives you both a soft warm smile.

Izuku crawls back down to kirishimas knees getting ready to do lord knows what before kirishima suddenly halts.

“ wait..before we do anything,.... what does this like, make us?”

Izukus eyes immediately widened at the question blinking a couple of times before turning to you then back to the man above him.

“ because, I would seriously take you both out on a date after this. If you want, that is.”

It wasn't like you exactly minded at all. Food sounded nice and why not do it with two hot guys who just do happen to be your friends and just so happen to be okay with everything going down? You shrug your shoulders and leave it at that.

Izuku hums and looks into the sky as if he were thinking. He bites his lower lip before speaking,

“ oh, well. I suppose we can talk more about that later, a date doesn't sound quite that bad.”

“ great! but uh, of course later right now I'm feeling a bit...antsy.”

Izuku chuckles sweetly with a smile.

“ we can tell, you're twitching through the suit~”

Izuku teased the man above which causes him flush with a nervous laugh.

“ so..”

you start, awaiting for something to happen.

“ can I uh...move your suit to the side, kirishima?”

Izuku asks in more of a pleasing manner, his voice soft and sweet as he asks for such a thing. Izuku managed to make inappropriate things seem so easy and light-hearted.

“ you two don't have to ask anymore, just go right ahead.”

With that, izuku scooter even closer to kirishimas cock slowly inching his hands up to his hardened and strained cock. He gently pet the thick base of his cock through the fabric with his pointer finger making kirishima jolt up with a hushed gasp.

Quickly izuku hooked his finger through the edge of his suit and pulled it to the side like it were a pair of panties. Kirishimas thick cock quickly sprung to life and slapped against his pelvis.

Both of your eyes blew wide at the side, he wasn't exactly maintained down there but he wasn't too wild either,

It wasn't too much to bear of course, not that something like that'd stop either of you.

Izukus breath shuddered and his eyes pupils instantly enlarged. He was once again blinded by sheer lust, he bit his lip and looked at his cock like it was the last piece of meat on this earth.

Izuku muttered lowly and breathily to himself, the sheer length and girth of the larger man was intimidating.

He gulped down the little spit he had in his mouth, it was as if it were drying up at the sight. He sighs and turns to you before asking;

“ hey uh, hun, do...,do you wanna share him with me?”

“ I mean.. he's more than big enough.”

Kirishimas breath hitched at the question, the eager nod you gave izuku was too adorable, his cock twitched against his thigh, it was so thick it could hardly stand up on its own. Not to mention the length of it...izuku would need the help anyway.

“ watch closely... we're going to take good care of you..”

Izuku said as he lowered his mouth down slowly in his tip, you instantly crawled in and suckled on the base of his cock, sucking gently and you move your mouth up and down his veiny thength.

“ oh- god..”

Izuku hummed around his tip, fluttering his eyes closed momentarily savoring the taste of his or cum that beaded at the slit. He swiped his tongue causing kirishima to wince and squint his eyes as if he were hurt. Izuku chuckles at the reaction.

You move your mouth down to his balls and glide your tongue across the flesh, suckling one into your mouth quite harshly. He groaned deeply, the sound practically shooting out of him.

kirishimas breaths were quivering. His eyes frantic and leering down at the two of you. Sweat began forming at his furrowed brows. He couldn't believe this was actually happening.

A sharp breath escaped from the man as izuku swiped his tongue over his large tip. His tongue swirling and paying close attention to it.

“ is it..good? are we doing good?”

Izuku spoke with a muffled speech, spit visible on his lower lip as he peered up at kirishima with blown wide eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes didn't want kirishima to look away from his.

Kirishima swallowed thickly as he shakily nodded. You kept paying attention to the base of his cock, letting your tongue trace a very prominent vein while izuku stroked his tip and spoke. You let your hands fondle his balls in a gentle manner causing his eyes to roll back.

“ you're both so..fuck...”

Kirishima could hardly speak with the ungodly things you both were doing to him. The absolute divine things you were making him feel. His words were unsure and shaky.

Izuku hummed around kirishimas cock before you both moved around a lot more, exploring new things to do as your tongues danced together around his cock. Kirishima let out a gutteral groans, you could tell by the way his cock was painstakingly red and twitching for more that he was close.

“ shit.. I think I....—”

“ not yet kirishima.”

“ hang in there for us. we have more than enough time so...why rush?”

Izuku was quick to say. Izuku was very observant, he paid close attention to little things that others wouldn't. He knew little things that would make kirishima fold and shake underneath you both.

It was odd to see izuku "laying down the law" and being quite stern. But you understand, this was quite fun and you hadn't wanted it to end so quickly either.

“ ill be honest...I've, wanted to do something like this with you both for a while...”

“ really..?”

Izuku hummed in response as he continued stroking his cock before going down on him once more.

“ fuck just like that..please it feels so good..”

Kirishima bucked his hips up towards your mouths with a whiney muffled moan, he couldn't take his eyes away for the wonderful escapade happening for him.

“ you two look so pretty like this...taking my cock so, so well.”

He lightly praised the both of you as he let one of his hands come down and stroke your hair, you closed your eyes in response to the positive feeling. It made you feel something deep in your core. Of course you were needy, you'd be crazy if this whole thing hadn't made you feel something.

Izuku had seemed to really be getting into the groove of it. You pulled away momentarily only for izuku to swallow kirishima whole. Of course he didn't completely deep throat him as kirishima is huge. Like..huge. but he began bobbing his head up and down rhythmically. It was such an enticing view, izuku losing himself in giving another man, your best friend, head.

You bit your lip and couldn't help watching the scene. Izuku soon noticed you didn't try to push him away or even come back you just watched. He quickly pulled away to speak.

“ hold on..i have an idea.”

He said softly. He grabbed both of your attention before quickly speaking seeing as you both were eager and hadn't wanted to stall any longer..

“ love, how about I move your suit to the side and finger you? get you nice and ready to take him.”

It was as if you practically jumped up at the proposal, excited and awaiting for something like this. You nodded in such an eager agreement making izuku chuckle lowly and stroke your cheek at the adorableness.

“ and then, kirishima, you can keep fucking my throat. just until she's ready.”

“ we're uh, going that far huh? yeah.. okay.”

Izuku hummed and hurriedly moved your suit to the side and gently ran his thumb across your folds getting a quick feel of things. He bit his lip and just watched for a moment as he softly played with you.

You let out such heavenly noises that went straight to izukus achingly hard cock, izuku would be a lie if he said he didn't want to pounce on you. But he wanted kirishima to have a turn with you.

Izuku looked up at you with a quick warm smile before turning to kirishima. His eyes were dark and full of greed.

“ please, kirishima...fuck my throat more..?”

Kiris cock twitched at the sheer sound of desperation and need that was laced in izukus voice. He groaned at the sight in front of him and reached for izukus head, running his hands through his hair and slightly bringing him closer.

Izuku was quick to take kirishimas cock down. Harshly slurping and suckling on his thick cock. His brows furrowed together as he struggled to take him entirely in his mouth but he did it. Such sweet mewls leaving izukus mouth. Your moans and quiet breaths along with kirishimas much louder ones were egging him on. He wanted to see just how far he could truly take it.

Watching izuku take kirishima down was quite the sight, he was eager and hungry for it. You grabbed his hand and tried to push his finger deeper. At the touch of you he decided to add two extras for you. Plugging you with three of his fingers and moving them at a steady pace, not too slow but just fast enough to satiate you for now.

Spit had began dripping from the sides of izukus mouth and kind of down his chin. He was getting restless and sucked kirishima as if he had a purpose, a goal. Kirishima threw his head back with such a gutteral groans, his hand still tangled in the izukus hair as he pushed his head down further.

“ fuck, izuku...”

The way kirishima shamelessly moaned for the shorter man was quite enamouring. Izuku temporarily removed his mouth from kirishima to check in with you, he stroked the man off and turned his attention towards you, spit around his mouth and slightly dripping down hie chin. He caught his breath and made sure you were alright before going back in.

Izukus low sounds that he let escape around kirishimas cock were growing louder. He seemed to be getting off to it.

“ you taste so good kirishima..”

He moaned up to the man as he stuck his tongue out and rubbed kirishimas cock along the pink muscle.

Kirishima couldn't help but harshly bite his lip, he was close but he didn't want to cum yet. Izuku was right, you have enough time to spare so why not enjoy yourselves a little while longer?

Izuku quickly went back down and sucked kirishimas cock for all it was work. Letting his tongue swirl around his as he slurped and bobbed his head. He seemed like a pro.

There was no way kirishima was going to last. He looked as if he was going to explode already..

Izuku removed his mouth and turned to you, your cunt was wet and ready to take whatever it was given. You had soaked izukus fingers in your slick and he slowly removed them slurping everything off with a low moan.

“ alright...you're nice and ready to take him, love.”

“ go ahead and straddle his lap for me, and kirishima you lie down for me.”

You both did exactly as you were told while izuku lightly praised you both.

“ there we are..”

You held onto kirishimas chest and waited for not only his, but izukus ready as well. You smiled down at the man beneath you and slid your cunt up and down his aching cock. He winced at the best of your cunt and the sticky feeling of your slick.

“ god...please don't tease me... I already feel like I'm gonna cum..”

“ I.. wanna put it in...can I? please...please..”

Kirishima begged and writhed underneath you. Pleading for you to let him have you, all of you. Kirishima got off to hiw you looked in the suit, the way it hugged your bidy and made you look so aooetizing.

“ alright fine..”

You giggle. He thanks you before you hurriedly slam yourself down on his cock. It shocked not only kirishima but izuku aswell. A little 'oh.' leaving the green haired man's mouth. Both of their eyes were wide and kirishima couldn't help but moan loudly as you took him all the way down to the base.

“ fuck, i— shit.. you took me all the way down. I'm impressed I've never really had someone who.. has.”

“ well now you have.”

You say slightly proud of yourself with what he's just revealed. It's honestly an accomplishment. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't big because he definitely was. He filled you so full without even cumming inside of you, which you were most excited for.

He laid back and let you take control. You rode him as best as you could, you wouldn't lie and say he definitely wasn't big. He filled you up so well you were practically losing your mind. You let out some whimpers trying to muffle every noise of yours that threatened to escape, you wanted to hear kirishimas sweet moans.

They left his beautiful mouth like slippery butter they sounded so serene you couldn't help but to want to hear more.

“ that's it baby... take what you need.”

Izuku rubbed your back, his large warm hand sending shivers up your spine and causing your skin to tingle. You arched your back into his touch and moaned throwing your head back. A small smile crawling into izukus face at the reaction.

Izuku looked over to kirishima who looked as if he was experiencing a pure euphoric rush. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth hung open as you rode his cock, his hands were on your thighs gently squeezing. Izuku hummed before gaining Kiri's attention.

“ would you mind if I did something? to ready you to take me?”

Izuku spoke lowly to the red haired man making his eyes widen, he hadn't wanted to alarm you seeing as you were in your own blissful estate. Kirishima gulped down, his mind was already getting fuzzy he couldn't do more than to nod helplessly.

Izuku has kirishima shift a bit almost making you go off course but you were quick to get back to work, nearly reaching your orgasm. Izuku licked and sucked in his own fingers to coat them in his spit so he can't get kirishima ready for him.

Kirishima groaned at the newness biting down hardly on his lip, his moans escaping and sounding more whiney as izuku worked his magic.

“ there we go kiri, that's it.”

Kirishimas breath was shaky and his eyes were squeezed shut once more, he couldn't help but squeezing your thighs harder each time you went down on him. Izuku aided kirishima with a whole new wave of pleasure from his skillfully fingers he felt so close.

“ alright kiri, hold on f’me im gonna put it in..”

Kirishima mumbled a response, izuku just smiled wearily and rubbed his thigh before gently pushing his just as thick and large cock head inside of him. Kirishima let out the whiniest moan ever making your eyes open, you laughed breathlessly at how such a big strong man can make such sweet noisee, it was adorable.

Izuku groaned lowly to himself before coming forward to kiss your shoulder making you jump with a squeak. His brows were furrowed and he clenched his jaw a couple of times, he wanted to wait for kirishimas 'okay' he did, he really did. But he just couldn't help his own need to cum.

He began putting his hips at a certain pace that had kirishima genuinely about to cum, he groaned and covered his eyes with one of his arms. Kirishimas head back in the pillows as you both fucked and used him for all he was worth.

“ please don't stop.. it feels so— so fucking good..~”

The way izukus hot breaths fanned your neck sent you over the edge, you leaned over to lay down on kirishimas chest moans being muffled as you bury your face in his neck. Izuku simply laughed above you both.

Kirishima held you closely as both for your orgasms were approaching. Izuku kept his hips moved, pistoning them in snf out of kirishima at a much faster pace causing kirishima to moan in your ear, kirishimas eyes were filling with tears from the overstimulation and he hadnt even cum yet.

The pleasure from you both was beginning to be far too much.

“ im- I'm gonna cum, fuck..”

You whined on his chest and kept moving your hips as izukus hand came down to your ass and gently squeezed it.

“ hmm, c'mon baby make him cum.. cum on his cock f’me, that's it.”

You tried your hardest to speed up, your impending orgasm making itself known once more, you sat up to fully ride him once more causing kirishima to moan. He threw his head back with a groan as he began cumming inside of you, you felt his cum reach depths inside causing you to cum yourself. With a sigh you had your hips slow down and laid back down on his chest.

Your breath as shaky as kirishimas, little mewls still leaving his mouth as izuku tried to chase his own orgasm, not trying to fall behind you two.

With a couple more messy thrusts inside he pulled out and came in your back, milky spurts of cum getting all over mirkos suit. It was so much you felt it all just splattering all over your back you couldn't help but to giggle.

You all caught your breath, laughing with one another before izuku noticed what he had done.

“ oh shit! I- I came on your suit! oh no..”

You sigh with a giggle, there's not much you can do but try wiping it off and going about your day in hpped no one notices or smells it.... It was a lot after all.

Izuku apologizes profusely as kirishima cant help but laugh along with you. Just as you were all getting comfortable a call came through.

“ sorry, that's mine.”

You say reaching off of kirishima to grab your phone.

“ oh.”

“ what?”

“ what's the matter?”

“ we have five minutes...”

You all scrambled together trying to clean and get yourselves situated with help from one another, laughing and giggling with one another.

AN: FINALLY GOT THIS WHACK ASS SHIT OUT HOLY FUCK.

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jillsandwhichs · 2 days ago

Text

Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection , Chap 6 , Beer and Sex

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You, Joel and Tommy are at an event in Austin that includes being outdoors, drinking & games! Well, long story short, you and Joel end up heading back to his place for some indoor fun

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Friends

WC: 3.0k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: No outbreak (AU), Usage of alcohol, Buzzed sex, Dirty talk, Making out, Breast play, Living room sex, You ride Joel, Unprotected sex, Choking kink, Clit rubbing, Denial of orgasm, doggy style & you ride him

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

You sat back down whilst laughing. Picking your beer back up, you sipped it and put it back down. You haven't drinken in a while, it's nice to finally do it again. You're usually so busy with work that you never have the time or energy to get some alcohol in your system. Your friends Joel and Tommy convinced you to go with them to this event in town though and when you saw there were drinks, you couldn't refuse.

The only reason Joel and Tommy are here is because Maria is hosting this event. She's very big with the city council and hosts events like this from time to time. You don't mind coming. You're actually enjoying yourself. Just a bit ago you were playing darts with Joel and then tether ball with Tommy. You're slightly buzzed too. You can't get full blown drunk though, you need to still drive home.

As you watched some of the younglings run around and play, you felt the weight of the table increase as Joel sat down. It's a muscular man. He weighs a good bit. "Hey." You said in a friendly tone. "Hello." He replied, sipping his tall boy. "You got another one? Shit, don't make me go get another one too, I still have to drive home." You joked, resting your head in your hand. Joel chuckled. "My house is just a few blocks away and I walked here so I ain't even bothered." Joel stated.

That's right, he lives in the suburbs. That's not something you'd expect from a country boy like him. Then again, being country is defined by where you live. "Where did Tommy and Maria go?" "No fuckin' clue," Joel snickered, "Probably fuckin' in the bathroom or something." He teased. You laughed and nodded. "They are newly weds, what can you expect?" You said whilst giggling. Joel nodded. "True that."

Joel was once married, he even had a daughter with the woman. Joel has been single for years now though. Everyone jokes he's out of commission but he just says he's waiting for the right lady. Sarah, his daughter, is almost twelve. She's getting older and cuter by the second. You've met her quite a bit, even babysat her, she's a dear. Joel told you she's with her mother right now, so he's free.

"At least Maria is getting some. It's been a good few months for me." "Months? Try years darlin' and it ain't by choice." You cackled at his words. He isn't wrong. He's celibate from what you've heard. "Sorry Joel, that has to suck." "It sure fuckin' does." He took a shot of his beer. You nodded and sipped off of yours too. The beer was getting warm. Gross. You sighed deeply. "I'm going to go get a new beer, I'll be right back."

You stood up and headed towards the cooler. This cooler was brought by Tommy himself. He decided to provide it for everyone. It's the good stuff too. You bent over and picked up a new one. It was ice cold to the touch. "Hell yeah." You murmured, cracking it open. You're currently wearing a black tank top and short jean shorts. It's hot during the summer, you have to stay cool somehow.

When you turned around, you saw that Joel's eyes were on you. He looked like he was trying to play it off as if he wasn't just checking you out but he totally was. You can't lie, you've checked him out too. Those big muscles and that handsome face are a sight for sore eyes. He's a hottie, admittedly. You giggled and sat back down beside him.

"You were totally just checking me out, weren't you?" You said with a laugh, tipping your beer into your mouth and drinking it all while looking into his brown eyes. He snorted and nodded. "You caught me." Oh, so he was? You don't mind. You knew Joel would be there and that did somewhat take part in what you're currently wearing.

You've always thought he was sexy. The day Tommy introduced you to him you though that. That was only two years ago. Your guy's friendship has been great but you're awfully surprised the two of you haven't hooked up yet. You've definitely flirted and hit on one another. You've even went as far as to having him lick salt off of your stomach before taking a shot of tequila and that had you soaked.

It is very surprising.

"But you can't deny you were checkin' me out earlier." Joel whispered to you with a husky voice. You giggled. "Guilty as charged. You've also caught me red handed." This isn't just the beer talking. You totally were. When he was putting the cooler down earlier, you were indeed gawking at his veiny, buff arms. You giggled and bit your lip while looking up at him. "How drunk are you?" You asked him. "Not drunk enough." You rolled your eyes at his words.

You looked around the area. You still have no clue where Tommy and Maria are. "I'll shoot him a text. Let's get out of here." He whispered to you. You scoffed and breathed in deeply. "Alright." You giggled. He got off of the picnic table and took your hand in his, helping you out of the table as well. You smiled at him. Your guy's hands stayed interlocked. Is this actually going to happen? Are you going to fuck Joel Miller? After all this time?

"My house ain't too far from here." Joel said to you in a deep voice. "I know." You smiled, walking alongside him. You don't feel drunk. You do feel buzzed. It isn't anything you can't handle. You're a heavy weight. It takes you time to really hit the drunk point. The trees around you and Joel brought you two shade, but you're already too hot, in more ways than one. He looked down at you and chuckled. "I can't wait to fuck you." He admitted. You huffed out. "Good." You bit your lip to hold back a big grin.

You glanced over your shoulder. You hope no one will wonder where you two are. You'd rather keep this between you and Joel for now. "Will we come back once we're done?" "We'll have to, I left my goddamn brother back there." You laughed loudly. "That is true... He'll be fine, right?" "He's a grown man, he's fine. Like I said darlin', I'll text him." You nodded. You just don't want them to come looking for the two of you.

You'd rather not be in the middle of getting fucked when Tommy and Maria show up.

As Joel opened his front door and locked it behind him, he chuckled and grabbed you, smashing his lips against yours. You kissed him back. His messy beard scraped against your face. "Mmph." You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck. He picked you up into his arms like you were a feather. You giggled and continued to kiss him. His hands were on your ass cheeks, squeezing them as he took you two to the living room area.

"Baby?" "Hmm?" "Bedroom or living room?" You snorted at his question. At least you get a say in this. You thought for a moment. "Let's keep it fun-living room." "Glady." Joel smirked, kissing you again but this time, his tongue found it's way into your mouth. You didn't mind. It made you even more horny. Your guy's tongues fought for dominance. You wanted to explore every crevice of his mouth. You moaned loudly as he sat you down on him. You could feel his erection through his stained work jeans.

You giggled and kissed him before reaching your hands down to the end of your tank top and pulling it off. Joel just stared in admiration. He thinks you're gorgeous. "Look at you," He purred, "You're beautiful." He whispered. You grinned. "You're handsome, and so sexy." You spoke seductively before licking his lower lip and kissing him again. His hands went to your tits, he squeezed them gently. Joel is more of an ass guy though.

After making out for a little bit, Joel finally pulled away to take deep breaths. "I'm fuckin' twitchin'." He sighed deeply, looking down at his bulge. You think that's the sexist thing ever. You love when a man is vocal about how he feels or what you're doing to him. "I'm so wet for you, wanna feel?" You whispered against his ear. Joel's breath shuttered. "Badly." And his hands went to your shorts, undoing them and helping you out of them as well.

Stepping out of your shorts, you climbed back into Joel's lap and sighed. "Feel." You whispered, kissing his neck and jawline. Joel brought his finger down to your core and pulled your panties to the side. As he dipped his fingers through your folds, he let out a low groan. "So fuckin' wet, just for me, hm?" He whispered, nibbling on your jawline. You giggled. "Just for you." This surely isn't the first time you've gotten wet thinking about Mr. Joel Miller.

Joel swiped his fingers through your folds, picking up all of your juicy wetness. You continued to kiss him. He seemed desperate, like a wild animal. He's hungry for you. You bit his lower lip and once again swiped your tongue along his. You moaned so quietly, it was more of a whimper.

He pulled his finger away and grunted. "Need to feel you from the inside." He murmured as he pulled his cock out of his jeans. Oh yeah, he's big. You're excited. It's been so long, especially for him. You hope you're as good as he'll be to you. Grabbing his member, you yourself pulled your white panties to the side before you then sat down on his dick. Both of you made sensual noises as your folds and cunt enveloped him. He was already so deep inside of you. It feels so good.

"How's that?" You chuckled, your arms around his neck. He snickered and gripped your ass tightly, landing a smack onto it which caused you to jolt slightly. "You feel so good. Now fuckin' ride me." He began to squeeze and slap your ass and you started to ride him. You went slow at first. Your movements were just simple grinds back and forth but you'd occasionally lift your ass up and back down, literally bouncing on his cock.

You wanted to savour this. You haven't felt this good in awhile. Having sex with Joel tonight was not on your agenda of plans but seriously, it is a welcomed surprise. He feels amazing. He knows what he's doing too. Each time he pinches your ass cheeks or spanks you playfully, it either makes you moan or kiss him even harder and more passionately.

Now, Joel is holding your hips. You began to ride him faster too. His dick is so deep inside of you, you can hardly believe it. "I've wanted this for a long time." You moaned out, looking him in the eyes. His eyes got darker and even more full of lust. "Me too babygirl, me too." He then swatted your ass again before going back to squeezing your hips. You're sure you'll have red marks all over your cheeks by later in the evening.

Bouncing on him, each thrust was just a mark bringing you closer to your climax. His member is deep inside of you and is shoving itself against your tight walls with each movement. "Yes baby." He groaned, kissing and licking your neck. He thinks you smell amazing. You did put on your perfume before going to the event. You're glad it's doing it's job.

"Babygirl, turn around, cowgirl, y'know?" You giggled at his words. "Yes sir." You teased and lifted yourself off of him slightly to turn around. You were surprised he asked you to switch positions, but you aren't complaining. You pushed yourself down onto his dick again and you both made whimpering noises. He seems to be feeling good. That's all you want. It's been years for him, you better make it good.

Once you got comfortable, you moaned loudly as he started to thrust up into you. "Joel!" You practically screamed, tossing your head back against his broad shoulder. He cackled and kissed your neck, leaving numerous bites and hickies onto it too. How are you supposed to go into work on Monday? You're sure these'll last a few days, hopefully not. "Need to make sure I still got it." Joel grunted, now he is the one fucking you and man, it's heaven.

Joel noticed your head was still tilted back against his shoulder. He smirked. He brought his left hand up to your neck and held it, choking you now. You moaned and turned your head slightly, kissing his messy hair and giggling. "You're so deep inside of me." You panted. "Yea? You're takin' it so fuckin' well too baby." Joel replied, kissing your cheeks numerous times, making you smile and chuckle.

His free hand, his right one, was one your lower stomach, holding you in place. You wanted to look down to see him moving inside of you, but you couldn't. With his hand on your neck, there's not much you can do with your head. You aren't complaining. You think it's hot to be choked. He does it so well too. "Been thinkin' about fuckin' you for awhile now," He whispered against your ear. His breath was warm. "You feel better than I ever could've imagined." That made you whimper in pleasure.

You felt his right hand slither down from your waist and to your clit. You whimpered. "Oh God!" You whined out as he began to rub your clit fast and with pressure. It felt so good. He works well with his fingers. He continued to thrust up into you, which made the experience a million times better. "I'm gonna cum." You whispered to him. "No baby, not yet, hold it in." What!? How are you supposed to just hold it in? "What?" "You heard me babydoll." He licked behind your ear and bit on your lobe. "Do not cum yet." He sternly stated.

"How?" "Just do it."

How are you supposed to hold back your orgasm? No hookup has ever asked you to hold it back. Actually, they need you to cum quickly or else they'll finish before you. You whimpered and bit your lip. No, you're going to cum. "I can't," You panted, "I just can't." Joel didn't respond. "Joel!" You moaned out, reaching your hand behind his head and tugging on his hair. He grunted and bit down on your neck.

"Cum for me."

That was it. You moaned softly as you coated his cock in your fluids. You let go of his hair. Shaking in his lap, Joel continued to rub your clit until you came down from your high. It overstimed you even. "Holy Christ." You moaned. You went to turn your head to kiss him but he lifted you up and chuckled. "I still haven't finished." He then pushed you down onto the couch, doggy style, and began to pound into you.

You moaned loudly and gripped the couch beneath you. Your knuckles even went white. He moved so skillfully inside of you. Each pump was one of excellence. "Wish I could cum inside of you." He whispered, running his hands up and down your back before he ultimately rested them on your rear. Joel gripped your ass, squeezing it tightly before leaving multiple slaps onto it, all of which made your moan or squeal.

With just a couple more thrusts, Joel finished. He quickly pulled out and stroked himself. He finished all over your ass and lower back. "Fuck sakes." Joel groaned, caressing your ass as he came. You pushed your ass against his manhood and giggled. He spanked you again and snickered. "One sec." He leaned over and grabbed a random wipe, cleaning your ass and back off. He tossed the rag to the other side of the living room and you chuckled.

Joel heaved deeply and lifted you up by your waist and pulled you back into his lap. You were basically completely naked, only in panties whereas he was fully dressed. So unfair. "Was it good?" You asked him, resting your head against the arm of the couch. He glanced down at you, still breathing heavily. "You're a funny girl." He leaned down and kissed you softly. "It was fuckin' glorious." He then nibbed on your jawline, making you giggle cutely.

You hummed and looked up at him. "You're the only man whose ever denied me of finishing, by the way." You snorted. "That's because you've only done slept with boys who finish too quickly. I think it's sexy to see a woman be restricted of her pleasure." You giggled at his words. "It felt better." "That's the point babydoll." He caressed your cheek and you brought yourself closer to his face, kissing him gently.

He breathed in deeply and cupped your face firmly, holding you in place. "Don't convince me to fuck you again." He said with a smile against your lips. "If you can't handle it..." You bit your lip. You acted like you were about to get off of his lap and you suddenly squealed as he tossed you back onto the couch and put you in missionary. Your legs went over his shoulders and you smiled.

"Oh I think I can handle it."

That was where the next of many rounds began.

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #tlou2 #smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #tumblr fyp

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limerence-17 · 2 days ago

Text

leave the door open

based on: number 7.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

masterlist

warnings: 18+ mdni p in v (bc mentioned,) explicit language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering

word count: 1.6k

A/N: all characters are 18+ here. obx season 4 didn't have to make rafe this sexy but here we are and i hope u all enjoy <3 also psa yes i know kinktober is over but i feel kinky all year and what about it

i wasn't going to touch myself. in fact i wasn't even thinking about it, and yet here i was about to spend the night at my best friend sarah cameron's house and all i could think about was the way her older brother looked coming into the house after getting off his motorbike. the way his hair swayed as he ran his hands through it, and the way he grunted as he walked by us in the kitchen.

he didn't even make eye contact and yet i couldn't stop myself from staring right at him as he walked by.

but here i was laying in the guest room, in this giant house that i still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that my best friend lived in and all i could think about was god damn rafe cameron.

────── 〔✿〕──────

that night, it was rather warm out, but i was feeling tired, dazed perhaps. sarah had come into my room, told me john b wanted to see her which was predictable as usual and snuck out through the guest room window. she told me she'd be back by 7 am which meant i'd be spending the night on my own. i didn't mind it but it could get lonely.

the sun was setting, and i felt strange spending such a lovely summer evening inside getting ready for bed but i suppose that was alright considering i spent the entire day out and about.

i nustled my legs smoothly against the satin sheets. something about staying at the cameron's house always reminded me of staying in some nice hotel. everything just smelt clean, like oranges and fresh air.

my shorts rode up my ass slightly, but i paid hardly any notice to them. it was so hot out anyway. i turned over, glancing outside the window. it was quiet out, too quiet and yet my mind wandered back to rafe in the kitchen. his hair falling ever so slightly in front of his eyes, the way he smelt. like sea salt and expensive cologne.

i couldn't help but shift my body so that my back laid against the bed, slowly arching my back as my hand glided to my shorts, placing soft slow circles against my clit. slowly, but i applied more pressure the more i circled. i couldn't help but let out a moan and had to cover my. mouth as i continued on. i wanted to take off my shorts as i thought about rafe. his hands, his hair, god his hands.

"holy fuck...rafe..." i moaned out in a hushed whisper.

my eyes kept closed, but my fingers continued to roam beneath the sheets until i heard a creak that was louder than i would've thought. i stopped dead in my tracks, moving both of my hands up over the sheets pulling them up swiftly to my chin.

oh my god it was rafe cameron. standing there with his zip up sweater, and clean cut pants. but the way he looked at me, well i couldn't tell what he was thinking but his eyes were wide. very wide.

"shit i didn't mean-"

"swear to god i wasn't listening or anything," said rafe dumbly. he ran his right hand over his mouth, looking at the ground.

"whatever you think you saw or heard or whatever the fuck you didn't rafe!" i was too embarrassed to muster up anything else. i just held the covers high.

"hey it's no big deal seriously... i mean i jerked one off like six hours ago so like-"

"jesus rafe, i mean it! delete this from your mind or i swear to god i'll-"

"see the thing is i can't really delete that from my mind. you moaning my name and all..." rafe closed the door behind him and took a few steps towards the bed.

"oh fuck you heard that?" i was mortified. just mortified. what was wrong with me?

"now the thing is...you're my sister's best friend so so like... i mean that's kinda fucked up-you thinking about me while you touch yourself and shit," rafe said in a drawl, using his hands to express it. rafe was now sitting at the edge of the bed. his eyes were glancing around quickly, his thoughts clearly racing.

i lowered the sheets but made sure that they were still just above my chest. but holy fuck, i was soaking wet now.

"but hey it makes sense- the way you look at me, always thought it was in my head and shit but-"

"it's not." i interrupt him. the more he looks at me the more i just picture his tongue in my mouth and i'm starting to get needy, my legs are clenching together now.

rafe's eyebrows raised, and he froze for a moment. but then his hands slowly crept up the sheets grabbing my thigh. i gasped feeling his hand there. his eyes widened, watching my expression.

"this what you were thinking about, huh?" his hand crept up agonizingly slow. i couldn't get a word out. just stiffled moans until eventually the sheets were down below my chest.

i let out a longing sigh as i felt his sturdy hand cup my pussy, using his other hand to move the bedsheet off completely, exposing me completely.

he looked up, asking for approval as his hands slowly tugged at the hems of my shorts and i nodded quickly.

"yes rafe."

rafe obliged immediately, pulling my shorts down, i pulled my tank top over my head. my legs lifted in the air as he threw them onto the floor. he slowly separated my legs, ogling at my obviously wet cunt.

he used his middle and ring finger to slowly trace a line up against my folds and i gasped at the touch.

"god damn my sister's best friend is a little slut huh? you're wet as shit and that's all for me huh?"

all i could let out was an innocent "mhmm," since the feeling of his fingers tracing against my folds was driving me lust drunk.

"yeah... i'm gonna need to taste you...." he said, now crouching so that his head was between my thighs.

"wait rafe-" rafe stopped immediately, glancing up at me.

"take off your shirt."

rafe smirked, obliging as he pulled it over his head, and i felt my eyelids grow heavy from lust as i looked at his chest. jesus, he was ridiculously hot. my best friend's ridiculously hot older brother was about to eat me out.

this time, more aggressively he separated my thighs and before i could comprehend it his lips were against my pussy. his tongue moved up and down, circles against my clit. as if it was instinct, i gripped at the bedframe. but it didn't last long as he gripped my hips, pulling me in closer to him. my thighs tightened against his head and it felt insane. i'd never had someone eat me out like this. so hungrily and quickly. he was incredible.

"shit you taste fucking unreal-" he grunted and gasped before licking me once more.

rafe's tongue moved quickly but he pulled away, moving so that he was now on top of me. he made eye contact before inserting a finger into me and i gasped. it was only a few pumps, hard and fast before he pulled out.

"taste yourself-" he said and i obliged, sucking on his finger. rafe licked his teeth, letting out a low hum of a laugh as he watched.

"you are fucking wild-" he said. my hands reached towards his pants and he looked down and then back up at me.

"what- you wanna feel me too?"

"rafe i wanna feel all of you- i want you inside me."

that set him off and he quickly reached to his pants, pulling them down along with his briefs. he was hung, like way more than i ever would've imagined. and hard too.

"looks like i'm not the only one whose this turned on either huh?"

rafe let out a sarcastic laugh "ha...ha...."

he got on top once more, this time pinning my legs higher in the air.

"yeah fuck i need to see all of you when i fuck you," rafe commanded.

"you're on that girl pill or whatever it is right?" rafe asked. i let out a quiet snicker.

"birth control, rafe? yeah i am," i said running my hands through my hair.

rafe nodded quickly, obviously thankful since it was clear neither of us brought condoms.

he positioned himself so that his tip was directly against my folds and then slowly pushed himself into me. i gasped, immediately reaching my fingernails against his back.

rafe grunted as his pumps started slow, but eventually quickened up. he moved quickly, thrusting and grunting into me. i let out stifled moans and he clasped his hand over my mouth.

"hey...hey... you've gotta be more... quiet than that... holy....fuck" rafe moaned between thrusts.

his paced quickened, his strong arms now moving to my waist as he pulled me to the edge of the bed. he thrusted deafening quick and i clenched my fist placing it against my mouth in a stupid attempt to silence myself. he was too fucking good at this. too strong, too fast, too fucking hot.

"don't stop! rafe jesus i'm gonna cum!"

"shit... me fucking too..."

it only took a few more thrusts before i let out a stiffled sigh and rafe collapsed, falling on top of me. both of us sweating, exhaling and my hands running through his hair.

he pulled away, laying beside me. i turned over to meet his gaze, my hands still running through his hair. he looked back at me.

"alright round two-"

#rafe cameron #smut requests #obx season 4 #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe smut #outer banks smut #outer banks fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction

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punksyeet · 1 day ago

Text

ᰔᩚ Protection ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna (OC) is protected by a guy at the gym who, she’d later find out is the man of her dreams.

Warning: S/A, mature language, & hefty flirting!

28!

29!

30!

I set my pair of dumbbells back onto their rack and take a seat on the black bench that's sat in front of me to catch my breath.

Panting heavily, I take a sip from my rose gold Stanley cup and towel dry the numerous beads of sweat rolling down my forehead and chest.

Once I'm cooled off and my breathing returns to normal, I head to the treadmill to do the last 10 minutes of my workout.

The song "Lifestyle" by Rich Gang and Young Thug plays through my headphones, and I mouth the words while doing some light jogging.

About 4 minutes in, I feel a presence behind me, causing me to look back.

An older random man, at least 50 years old, is stood there just watching me.

I pause the machine and hop off, slowly taking my headphones off as well. "Hi. Is there something you needed?"

He lightly chuckles. "Not at all, sweetheart. I'm just enjoying the view."

Oh for fucks sake!

"Yeeaaah," I respond hesitantly, turning back to the treadmill. "I'm not interested, sorry."

He lightly grabs my waist, causing me to stop half-way. "Baby wait! I just wanna ta-"

"Okay first of all," I exclaim, backing out of his grip. "Don't touch me. I don't even know you."

He crosses his arms over his chest and swallows hard. "Well that seems unfai-"

"And secondly," I continue, cutting him off. "I told you I'm not interested. You're making me very uncomfortable. So please, respectfully, walk away from me."

"I don't think I will," he instigates, proceeding to walk even closer to me. "You know exactly what you're doing in these tight little shorts, baby."

He starts inching his hand closer and closer to my ass until another person clears their throat, making him stop in his tracks and turn around.

I look behind him, where the sound came from, and see a much younger looking and, not for nothing, but super attractive guy.

My eyes automatically scan his body, which is filled with what looks like cultural tattoos and sweat that makes his gorgeous caramel-colored skin glisten under the ceiling lights.

"I believe the lady asked to be left alone?" he clarifies, his hands in his pockets.

The man throws his hands up innocently. "I wasn't trying anything man, I swear."

"I see," the attractive guy says, nodding and smoothing out his freshly-trimmed beard. "Then why are you still here, uce?"

Uce? What does that mean?

"Because uce," the man replies, mocking him. "I'm a guy that likes conversation. And I saw a pretty woman so I walked over. What does this have to do with you anyway?"

The attractive guy's nostrils flare in reaction to being mimicked. "It has everything to do with me when I'm witnessing a lame ass dude come up to a female, making her uncomfortable in a place where she should feel safe. Have some shame bruh."

With every word he inches closer and closer to the man, even pointing his finger at him.

The man suddenly turns speechless, and places his hands in his pockets.

"That's exactly what the fuck I thought," the attractive guy continues. "So I suggest you get outta here before things get real ugly."

The man then rolls his eyes, scans my body one more time, and walks away.

The attractive guy watches him leave and comes walking over to me. "Hey. You alright?"

I blink numerous times out of shock. "Y-yeah I'm good. Thank you so much for that."

He gives me a warm smile. "Anytime. It infuriates me seeing dudes disrespecting women that way. I'm glad I saw it before he could do anything else to you."

I return the smile. "Well, thank you again. I appreciate it. More than you know."

"You're very welcome..." his voice trails off, and he tilts his head at me.

"Oh!" I reply, holding out my hand. "I'm Gianna. It's nice to meet you."

He flashes me another gorgeous smile and shakes it. "You too, and that's a real pretty name. I'm Josh."

"Thank you," I reply, lightly blushing, and stick my hands in my pockets once we end the handshake.

He stops for a minute and takes a deep breath before speaking up again. "Say Gianna, I know we met in a kinda unfortunate way, and the timing of all this may be off. But would you like to hang out sometime?"

His gorgeous ass? Wants to hang out with me?

I give him a soft smile, shrugging. "Sure, why not?"

He nods, rubbing his hands together. "Cool, cool. How about tonight? I'll text you my address and we can kick it? Have dinner or something?"

I nod, pull out my phone, open my contact list, and hand it to him. "Sure, that sounds nice."

He enters his number and hands it back to me. "Perfect. I'll see you tonight."

I smile, nodding. "See you then."

He gives me one last smile before walking off, allowing me to finish my set and head home.

—————————————————————————————————

It's now 5pm and I just got out of the shower.

Josh and I are meeting at his place at 5:45 so I gave myself some extra time to get ready and mentally prepare.

He texted me to dress comfy, so I decide to go with a cotton white sweater and pants set, some beige slides, my belly piercing, some silver jewelry, and my LV purse.

I straighten my hair and spray some yummy smelling perfume before heading out.

—————————————————————————————————

You've got this Gi.

Just be yourself and he'll love you.

I take a deep breath before leaving my car and heading up Josh's walkway and to the front door.

Seconds after I ring his doorbell, I hear dogs barking and then shuffling towards the door.

Once it opens, I practically drool at the sight I'm brought with.

He's dressed in a black muscle tee, grey sweatpants with his print visible, Nike socks, hoop earrings in, and a nice gold chain around his muscular neck.

"Hey again," he coos, standing against the door.

I give him a soft smile. "H-Hi. You look nice."

He chuckles. "Thanks, love. You do too. Come on inside."

I do as he says and I'm greeted with three adorable french bulldogs. "Your dogs are adorable."

He closes the door behind me and smiles when he sees me petting them. "Thank you."

He introduces me to Pongo, Mumble, and Jax.

As he's making dinner, I chill on the couch with them.

"They took a liking to you quick," he exclaims, watching us with his arms folded leaning against the wall. "Normally it takes them a while to get used to new people."

I look up at him and smile. "I have a pup of my own. Maybe they can smell her."

He chuckles and sits with us, his arm draped over the top of the couch behind me.

"So," I begin, rubbing Pongo's belly and turning to Josh. "What's on the menu for tonight?"

He smiles, looking back at the stove. "Garlic butter shrimp pasta with some oven roasted veggies on the side."

My stomach growls at the sound of it and faint smells coming from the kitchen. "That sounds amazing. I can't wait."

He smiles and we continue to play with the dogs until dinner is ready.

"Josh holy shit," I say, covering my mouth as I chew a piece of shrimp. "This is amazing!"

He smiles proudly, taking a sip from his wine glass. "I'm so glad you like it. I've been working on the recipe for a while."

"Feels like it's perfected now," I reply, setting my fork down and picking up my wine glass.

He chuckles and we spend the rest of dinner getting to know each other.

From dinner I found out that:

- he's full blown Samoan

- the term "uce" means brother / bro

- he was born in San Francisco, raised in Pensacola, and moved to Atlanta a few years ago

- he has 2 sons named Jeyce and Jaciyah

- he has 6 siblings including a twin brother named Jonathan

"So," he begins. "If you don't mind me asking, what do you do?"

I take a sip of wine before answering. "Well, I've been into wrestling for a little bit now. I got signed to NXT a couple weeks ago."

A gorgeous smile appears on his face. "That's awesome Gi! Congrats!"

I giggle. "Thank you! And you said you're already in WWE, right?"

"Yup," he replies, nodding. "I debuted with my brother back in 2010."

I smile, tilting my head. "That's awesome that you guys have been in it together the whole time."

He smiles, folding his arms and leaning on the island. "Yeah it's been one hell of a ride. But I'm grateful for him."

We talk more throughout the night and it's honestly such a good time.

It sounds weird, but I feel safe with him.

Despite me meeting him less than 12 hours ago.

—————————————————————————————————

It's now 9pm, almost 2 hours since we finished dinner, and we're sat in the backyard near his fire pit.

"Nice out tonight, huh?" he asks, looking up at the sky, which is filled with stars and a crescent moon.

I nod, smiling, just watching the fire. "It really is."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him look down at me and kinda just watch me for a while.

After a few moments, I grow the confidence to look back, which causes a shy smile to appear on both of our faces.

"You okay?" I ask, placing my hand on his thigh softly.

"All good," he replies. "You really are gorgeous by the way."

My cheeks turn red hot and I look down shyly, picking the blanket that he brought out for us up to my chin. "Thank you, Josh."

He chuckles and scoots in closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

I get goosebumps at the feeling of his warm and soft hand on my skin.

"Don't get all shy now love," he teases. "You were just touching my thigh a second ago."

I playfully roll my eyes, giggling. "It's not my fault you're fine as hell, sir."

He raises his eyebrows as if he's shocked. "Fine as hell, huh?"

I nod confidently, trying to swallow every last bit of nervousness. "You know you are."

He pretends to have long hair and flicks it off his shoulders.

We share a laugh and he cups my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"You have a real nice smile too," he continues, cupping my face and stroking my cheek with his thumb.

I try to put my head down shyly again, but he lifts my chin before I can, allowing us to lock eyes.

We both slowly lean in and, soon enough, our lips are connected in the sweetest and most romantic kiss I've ever experienced.

With every stroke, our lips move in sync and his hands wander further and further along my sides.

Eventually, we pull away slowly and I bite my bottom lip softly.

"You're a good kisser," I say, just above a whisper, my hands still playing with his dreamy curls.

He chuckles and takes a strand of hair away from my face. "So are you, mama. I could kiss those lips forever."

"What's stopping you?" I tease, brushing my nose against his.

He smirks and connects our lips again, this time far more passionately.

The kiss lasts about 5 minutes - tongue included and everything - and not gonna lie, I was a little bummed when it finally ended.

"This is gonna sound a little upfront and please let me know if you think it's too soon," he begins, stroking my side. "But...I haven't felt this way since I first started dating my ex wife so it must be true."

I tilt my head, rubbing soft circles his back. "What's that?"

He smiles and stares directly into my eyes. "I think I'm in love with you, baby."

I bite my bottom lip gently and take a deep breath before finally speaking up to respond. "I'm in love with you too."

He raises an eyebrow. "Really? You are?"

I nod, smiling. "I think so. And I’m willing to find out for sure.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and wraps me into a warm hug, and I immediately hug back.

"I was so nervous that you'd whack me across the face or something," he confesses once we pull away, making me giggle.

"Now why would I look to do damage to a face as handsome as yours?" I tease, playing with his beard.

He chuckles and pulls me in for another kiss.

Our third of the night.

And hopefully the third of many more to come.

After a little while more of hanging out and enjoying each other's company, it gets pitch black outside.

"I should probably start heading home," I exclaim, rubbing the bicep of his arm that's wrapped around my waist.

He sighs. "You sure you can't stay?"

I lay my head on his shoulder and kiss his jaw. "I'd love to, but not tonight."

He kisses my temple and gets up, holding out his hand. "I understand, baby. Come on, I'll walk you out."

I smile and take it, getting up.

I crouch down to his pups and say goodbye with tummy rubs and lots of kisses. "I'll see you guys soon."

They respond with barks and licks to my face.

Josh smiles, watching us before I stand back up and take his hand once more.

We head out to my car, share a couple more kisses, a little more small talk, and I head off.

—————————————————————————————————

I park in my driveway and automatically take notice to a bouquet of pink roses sitting at my front door.

Once I make it to them, I smile, reading the note attached:

Thank you for the best night I've had in a while. I'm so happy we met earlier today, even though it feels like I've known you forever. I hope you enjoy these and I'll see you soon. ❤️

- Love, Josh

I place the note in my pocket and pick up the bouquet, smelling the flowers.

I head inside, set my stuff down, and immediately text him.

Gianna ❤️: You're adorable! 🥹

Josh 🩵: You like them baby?

Gianna ❤️: I love them. They're beautiful. Thank you. 🤍

Josh 🩵: Just like you. You're welcome mama. ❤️

You loved "Just like you. You're welcome mama. ❤️"

It hasn't even been a full 24 hours, and I already love him more than anything.

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diamonddaze01 · 18 hours ago

Text

Plan B (for Boo)

pairing: bsk x f!reader genre: frenemies to lovers | wc: 9.0k au: non-idol au warnings: alcohol consumption, both reader and seungkwan are emotionally constipated a/n: based on this tweet https://x.com/galacticidiots/status/1582385401997955072 // thank you to the amazing @wongyuseokie for this BOO-tiful banner and divider (haha get it.) // and an enormous thank you to my lovely wonderful betas @chanranghaeys and @lovetaroandtaemin

summary: it's just a stupid pact. what could possibly go wrong?

“So,” he starts, his tone dripping with mock sincerity, “why are you still single? Could it be that no one wants to handle all this,” he gestures up and down with an exaggerated flourish, “24/7?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you sip your drink, but before you can respond with something equally sharp, he leans in a little closer, voice softer and yet somehow still insufferable. “If it’s still like this by the time we’re 30, maybe you should just give up and marry me. Think about it—life would be so much easier.”

It’s a jab, you’re sure. The kind he always takes. But maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that it makes you laugh in a way that even catches him off guard—a laugh deep enough to make him blink before breaking into a grin too. And before you realize it, your own words slip out in response.

“Alright. If we’re both single at 30, I’ll marry you.” You shrug nonchalantly, but there’s a flash in his eyes that you can’t quite read. “And let’s be real, Boo—I’d be doing you the favor here.”

His brows shoot up as he crosses his arms, clearly ready to go head-to-head. “Please, I’d be your retirement plan,” he says with mock indignation, his tone warming for just a second as if this is more than a joke. Then, holding out his hand, he adds, “Deal?”

You shake it, the alcohol dulling the tiny voice that says this is a terrible idea. And just like that, you grin at each other, certain it’ll be nothing more than a passing joke, something to laugh about later. Neither of you knows that this will stick with you—that it’ll be a memory you revisit every time Seungkwan pops up at exactly the wrong (or right) moments.

11 months, 23 days post-pact:

The “pact” starts as a drunken joke during a night out, one of those silly promises that friends (well, frenemies) make when they’re feeling a bit too invincible. It’s almost always out of sight, out of mind, but fate is a cruel mistress. Just as things begin to go well with someone, Seungkwan inevitably shows up.

Today, you’re out with Keeho, a charming, laid-back guy you met at a friend’s party last month. After a few flirty texts, you both agree to meet for coffee downtown, and things are going smoothly. You find yourself in a cozy bookstore café on a lazy Saturday afternoon, the kind of place that smells of freshly brewed coffee and old books. Keeho is funny and easygoing, and you’re genuinely enjoying yourself.

Just as you settle into a cozy corner table, sipping your latte and discussing your favorite novels, you feel a chill pass through the air. The bell above the door jingles, and you turn just in time to see Seungkwan burst in, a whirlwind of energy in his bright, patterned sweater.

“Oh, you’re on a date!” he exclaims, his voice echoing off the bookshelves as he approaches. He has that familiar look in his eyes—part mischief, part determination—as he slides into the seat across from you without so much as a greeting to Keeho.

You freeze mid-sentence, watching in horror as your carefully curated date suddenly turns chaotic. “Yes, Seungkwan,” you say, forcing a smile as you lean slightly away from him. “This is Keeho, and we were just—”

“Oh, Keeho! Nice to meet you!” Seungkwan interrupts, his tone dripping with faux enthusiasm. “So, you’re the brave soul who decided to take Y/N out on a date. You must have some serious courage.” He looks at you, feigning concern. “Are you sure you’re ready for her? She’s a handful, you know.”

Keeho raises an eyebrow, amusement battling with confusion. “I’m up for a challenge,” he replies, a smirk tugging at his lips as he glances between you and Seungkwan.

You can feel your cheeks warming, mortified at Seungkwan’s antics. “It’s really not—”

“Oh, but it is!” Seungkwan cuts you off again, leaning closer to Keeho. “Just last week, she convinced me to join her for a book club, and it was a disaster! I’m telling you, she had me reading some really intense romance novel.” He chuckles, but his eyes sparkle with mischief. “Let me tell you, that kind of emotional rollercoaster is not for the faint of heart.”

Keeho laughs, glancing at you with a playful glint in his eye. “Sounds like you have some strong opinions about romance, Y/N.”

“Okay, but I liked that book!” you protest, feeling the urge to defend your taste. “And it’s not my fault Seungkwan has no sense of romance!”

Seungkwan feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart. “I am a romantic! I just happen to be very selective about my literature. Besides, I didn’t think I’d need to give a warning to your date. Guess I was wrong!”

The two of them continue bantering, Keeho managing to hold his own, but you sense the dynamic shift. Each playful jab from Seungkwan feels like it’s chipping away at the ease of the moment. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Seungkwan leans back with an exaggerated sigh.

“Well, I’ve done my duty here,” he announces, clearly satisfied with the chaos he’d stirred up. “Just wanted to make sure Keeho knows what he’s getting into. You know, if things don’t work out, I’m still single and ready to mingle!” He winks at you, a smug smile plastered on his face.

You roll your eyes, watching him leave, but deep down, you’re more entertained than you want to admit. Just as he reaches the door, he turns back, giving you one last wink and whispering, “Call me when you’re done with this guy, yeah?”

As he walks out, you lean your head in your hands, half-laughing, half-sighing. “I’m so sorry about that,” you say to Keeho, who is still chuckling at the spectacle.

“I mean, he’s entertaining, I’ll give him that,” Keeho says, shaking his head. “But is he always like that?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” you admit, the humor of the situation beginning to sink in. “But he means well.”

Keeho smiles, his eyes warm. “Well, if he’s the worst I have to deal with, I think I can handle it. Let’s just get back to our coffee and forget about the chaos, okay?”

You nod, relieved, and try to refocus on your conversation. But as you chat about your favorite books, you can’t shake the feeling that Seungkwan has left a lingering awkwardness in the air. Sure enough, as the date progresses, you notice that Keeho is distracted, occasionally glancing toward the door as if waiting for Seungkwan to return.

After a few more minutes of stilted conversation, you decide to lighten the mood. “So, what’s your favorite genre? Maybe we can find a book to recommend to each other?”

Keeho shrugs, a slight frown on his face. “Honestly? I’m more of a sci-fi guy. I guess romance isn’t really my thing.”

You feel a small twinge of disappointment but try to brush it off. “That’s okay! Everyone has different tastes. I really enjoy a good sci-fi too.”

As the conversation drifts back and forth, you both struggle to find common ground. You notice Keeho’s smile faltering more often, and he seems less engaged than before. It’s clear that Seungkwan’s surprise entrance has cast a shadow on the date, and the initial chemistry you felt is fading.

By the end of the hour, as you both finish your drinks, Keeho’s attention drifts to his phone. “Hey, I should probably get going. I have a few things to take care of at home,” he says, standing up and looking apologetic. “But it was nice meeting you.”

You nod, a hint of disappointment settling in your stomach. “Yeah, nice meeting you too.” You both exchange polite goodbyes, and as you watch him leave, you feel the familiar twinge of frustration. It’s as if fate is determined to keep sabotaging your chances of finding someone.

And deep down, you know Seungkwan will find a way to poke his head into your next date, too.

1 year, 6 months, 17 days post-pact:

The sun poured into the little bistro, casting a warm glow over your table as you shared easy laughs and stolen glances with your brunch date. It felt like a scene right out of a movie: the coffee was just strong enough, the food delicious, and the company—Sunghoon, a coworker you’d finally worked up the nerve to get closer to—was even better. You’d reached that perfect point where a little hand-holding across the table felt natural, like something you’d done a hundred times before. And you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this could actually go somewhere.

But just as you’re about to lean in with a smile, it happens.

A voice, unmistakably loud and dripping with exaggerated surprise, rings out. “Oh my god, is that you?”

Your heart sinks, but you turn anyway, because there’s no ignoring Seungkwan, especially when he’s dressed in his brightest pink sweater, standing a few tables over with a grin that could rival the sun. He’s holding a large coffee in one hand, eyebrows raised high in mock surprise.

“Seungkwan,” you say, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Wow, what a coincidence.”

“Oh, it’s not just a coincidence.” With the practiced ease of a performer, he slides into the seat beside Sunghoon, who has gone from looking amused to very, very confused. “Y/N and I go way back, actually. Practically family, really. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” He flashes you a grin, one that’s both infuriating and endearing.

You clench your jaw, trying to suppress the urge to strangle him. “Right. Practically family,” you murmur, hoping Sunghoon isn’t catching the way your fingers have turned white from gripping your napkin too hard.

Seungkwan seems to ignore you, his attention now entirely on Sunghoon, whose eyebrows have slowly started climbing into his hairline. “So,” he continues, his voice loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear, “you’re here with Y/N? Cute choice. I hope you know what you’re getting into. Y/N’s kind of… high maintenance.” He winks at you like he’s just told an inside joke.

Sunghoon chuckles nervously, glancing over at you as if he needs confirmation. You shoot him an apologetic smile, trying to silently convey that, no, this isn’t normal and, yes, you’ll explain later.

“And I mean, Y/N and I?” Seungkwan keeps going, gesturing between the two of you like there’s some deep, mysterious connection. “The chemistry? It’s off the charts.” He taps his head, sighing. “We can practically read each other’s minds, you know?”

By now, Sunhoon is fidgeting, a small smile glued to his face as they look between you and Seungkwan. “Oh, really?” he asks, clearly wondering if he’s missing something monumental. “So you two… you’re not—”

“Oh, no, no,” you say quickly, shooting a glare at Seungkwan, who’s clearly trying not to laugh.

But Seungkwan doesn’t stop there. “Ah, Y/N’s right,” he adds, shrugging. “We’re not together. Yet.” He drags out the word with a smirk, and you can practically hear the gears turning in Sunghoon’s head as he processes the word "yet."

You feel your face heating up, half-tempted to kick him under the table. “Seungkwan, don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you ask, voice tight.

“Hmm, let me think…” He pretends to ponder this, tapping his chin before leaning across the table. “Nope. Nowhere. Besides, isn’t brunch better with a crowd?” He gives Sunghoon a friendly, if slightly unnerving, pat on the shoulder. “You must be so lucky to have Y/N’s attention like this. People are usually lining up for it.”

Sunghoon shifts again, looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. You know Seungkwan can sense it too, his eyes glinting with amusement as he continues his casual interrogation. “So, tell me about yourself,” he says to Sunghoon, putting on his most interested expression, though you know he’s sizing him up with each word.

The back-and-forth goes on, with Seungkwan jumping in to answer Sunghoon’s questions as if he’s your personal biographer. He throws in every childhood story, every embarrassing tidbit he can remember—all exaggerated, of course—until Sunghoon’s head is spinning. The worst part is, it’s so absurd that it’s almost funny, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as Seungkwan slips in comments like, “Oh, Y/N definitely prefers pineapple on pizza,” or, “Trust me, Y/N’s a total night owl.” As Seungkwan shares “insider secrets” and childhood anecdotes, a strange sensation bubbles up in your chest. It was annoyance, sure, but there was something else there—a soft ache that confused you. Why did he care so much about who you were dating? And why did you feel so strangely relieved that he was here?

Finally, just when you think you can’t take any more, he stands up, clapping his hands together like he’s just wrapped up a grand performance. “Well,” he says, turning to you with a look of smug satisfaction, “if you ever need a brunch buddy who doesn’t skip out on the bill…” He winks. “Call me, yeah?”

He pats Sunghoon on the back as he heads for the door, grinning like he’s just pulled off the prank of the century. “Nice to meet you!” he calls to your date, who’s left sitting in stunned silence as Seungkwan struts out, practically radiating smugness.

When he’s finally gone, Sunghoon lets out a slow breath, shoulders relaxing as they turn to you. “Sooo… that was interesting.”

You let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah… interesting is one word for it.”

He raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face. “So, does he do that a lot?”

“Oh, all the time,” you say with a sigh, though you can’t keep the fond smile off your face. “But hey, he means well. In a very… loud way.”

He chuckles, clearly unsure but still intrigued. “Well, guess I’ll have to stick around and see what other ‘friends’ you have in store.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you lean back in your seat, finally able to relax. In that moment, the chaos of Seungkwan’s interruption almost fades—almost—because part of you knows that with him around, peace and quiet will always be temporary at best.

2 years post-pact, to the day:

Seungcheol’s birthday is practically a national holiday among your friend group. Every year, he insists on throwing an over-the-top party, renting out a venue and packing it with everyone he knows (and some people he barely knows). This year is no different. He’s booked a rooftop bar with an incredible view, and the night promises to be one of laughter, loud music, and Seungcheol’s legendary knack for making everyone feel like family.

Of course, as soon as you walked through the doors, Seungkwan had cornered you, teasing you about your outfit, asking if you were sure you wanted to dress up this much for just any party. He’d even given you a once-over with a smirk, as if he could see right through your intentions. You’d brushed him off, but you knew he wasn’t done stirring up trouble.

The party is buzzing with laughter, conversations blending into a symphony of voices, and there you are, casually observing from the edge of the room. You spot Seungkwan in the distance, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed as he talks to a girl who’s completely engrossed in whatever story he’s telling. She’s laughing, touching his arm every now and then, and her eyes are practically twinkling. He’s playing it up too, charming as ever, and for a split second, it almost looks real.

A strange feeling knots in your stomach. It’s not jealousy, you tell yourself, but a weird twinge of something uncomfortable that you can’t quite name. You push the thought aside, focusing instead on the playful banter you’ve always shared with him. But still, you can’t help but feel a flicker of annoyance as the girl giggles, leaning in closer to him, her hand lingering on his arm. Why does it bother you so much?

You shake it off quickly – you know him too well. There’s no way it’s real (right?). Time to have a little fun of your own.

You bide your time, watching for the perfect moment before you make your move. Finally, you spot an opening, and with a quick breath, you slip through the crowd and tap him on the shoulder, putting on your brightest, most endearing smile.

“Hey, honey, sorry I’m late!” You say, practically singing the words as you slide an arm around his waist.

Seungkwan’s body tenses immediately, and when he turns to look at you, his eyes are wide with a mix of surprise and warning. Don’t you dare, his gaze practically screams, but you just tighten your grip, patting his side for emphasis.

“Oh… um, hi,” he stammers, clearly caught off guard, trying to maintain his composure as he looks back at the girl.

You flash her a warm, overly friendly smile, as if you’re just so glad to meet her. “So sorry to interrupt! He promised we’d catch up tonight, you know, since we’re…” you pause, feigning a thoughtful look as you glance up at Seungkwan, “what did you say the other day? Practically inseparable?”

The girl’s confident smile falters, her gaze shifting between you and Seungkwan, her expression growing more uncertain by the second. You can feel Seungkwan’s silent plea for mercy, but you keep going, leaning into him a bit more.

“Oh, and did he tell you about our little pact?” you add, raising your eyebrows with a playful grin as you look back at him. You feel his muscles tense under your arm, his cheeks beginning to glow a telltale shade of pink.

“Pact?” She asks, eyebrows knitting in confusion as she looks at Seungkwan, who’s now fidgeting slightly, glancing around as if looking for an escape.

“Yes, we’ve had it forever,” you say with a wistful sigh, clutching his arm as if this is the most romantic thing in the world. “You know, just in case we’re both… single. Isn’t that right, darling?”

The girl’s smile drops completely, and her mouth opens just a bit, as if she’s about to ask for clarification, but she seems to think better of it. Her cheeks flush as she glances at Seungkwan, now visibly flustered and clearing his throat, his eyes darting everywhere except toward either of you.

“Um, I… I should find my friends,” she mutters, shooting him one last look before quickly turning on her heel and slipping away into the crowd.

As soon as she’s out of sight, you can’t help but smirk, glancing up at Seungkwan’s astonished expression. Leaning up, you plant a quick peck on his cheek before stepping back, watching as he turns to you, looking thoroughly scandalized.

“Are you serious right now?” He hisses, though his lips are twitching, betraying the hint of a laugh he’s trying to hold back.

“Oh, come on, you had it coming,” you reply with a wicked smile. “After the whole pineapple on pizza stunt? I’d say that’s one for me.”

He shakes his head, laughing softly as he runs a hand through his hair, his pink cheeks now joined by a glimmer of genuine amusement. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, but there’s a light in his eyes that tells you he’s not mad in the slightest.

“Hey, you started this game,” you shrug, giving him a little nudge. “I’m just playing to win.”

Seungkwan lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as he glances toward the direction the girl went, then back to you, a begrudging smile breaking through. “Fine, fine. But don’t expect me to go easy on you next time. Speaking of which, what happened to that guy from brunch a few months ago? Sanghyun? Sanghoon?”

“His name is Sunghoon, idiot, and nothing happened. You made sure of that. That’s why I’m here, evening the score,” you retort, crossing your arms with a mock scowl.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “So you’re telling me I’m your secret weapon now?”

“More like your meddling is a curse,” you say, shaking your head.

He chuckles, the sound light and infectious. “Well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Just know, I’m not done with this game yet.”

As the night continues, the laughter and music surround you, but a lingering thought gnaws at the back of your mind. Watching Seungkwan charm his way through conversations, it strikes you how easily he can captivate others, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if there’s a part of him that prefers their attention over yours. You push it away, the pang of unease echoing with the music, reminding you that this is just a party, just a game, but somehow, you can’t shake the feeling of something deeper bubbling just beneath the surface.

2 years, 4 months, and 9 days post-pact:

This time, it’s dinner at a new trendy restaurant in the nicer end of town. Dinner with Yuta had been going perfectly—a warm, candlelit setting, the faint hum of jazz music, and conversation that felt so easy you were actually starting to think you could see something real with him. He’s charming, you’re feeling all the right butterflies, and he even leans in, smiling as he teases you about the most embarrassing moments you’ve shared from work.

Then, right on cue, a waiter appears at your table, his expression a mix of confusion and apology.

“Miss Y/N?” he asks, glancing between you and Yuta, who’s now watching with mild curiosity. “I was told by a gentleman to deliver this to you with his regards.”

In his arms, he’s holding an enormous bouquet of deep red roses, wrapped in an extravagant silk ribbon that practically glows under the restaurant’s soft lights. Yuta raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a curious smirk.

As soon as you spot the bouquet, a sinking feeling settles in your stomach. You already know exactly what’s coming next.

The waiter hands you the bouquet, and you catch sight of a note nestled among the roses. The cursive writing on the card reads: “Forever yours, my little dumpling. ~ Boo”

“Oh my god…” you murmur, your cheeks flushing as you let out a strained laugh, trying to brush it off. “Um… wow. This is… an inside joke that got a little out of hand.”

Yuta’s eyes sparkle with amusement, but you can tell he’s a little taken aback. “Inside joke, huh? That’s… a lot of roses for a joke.”

“Yeah,” you say, stumbling over your words, “he just… has a sense of humor, you know?”

Before you can think of a more believable explanation, your phone vibrates on the table, the screen lighting up with a text notification. You already have a bad feeling about it.

Picking up your phone, you see a picture text from Seungkwan. He’s standing in front of a florist, grinning mischievously and holding the exact same bouquet that now sits on your table. “Enjoy,” reads the message, punctuated by a devil emoji.

You feel your jaw tighten, your fingers twitching with the urge to throw the phone across the table. But you take a deep breath, glancing at Yuta, who’s watching you with even more intrigue now.

“Let me guess,” he says, clearly trying not to laugh. “That was him?”

“Unfortunately,” you mutter, gritting your teeth in a half-smile. “He’s a… close friend. Very close. Close enough that he thinks things like this are hilarious.”

Yuta chuckles, leaning back in his chair, but there’s a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Is he… an ex or something?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, cringing as you realize just how absurd the whole situation must look. “He’s just… Seungkwan. This is his idea of fun. Like, sending flowers to a date to ‘make sure I’m being treated well’ or something.” You laugh awkwardly, trying to make light of it, but Yuta’s expression suggests he’s a bit less enchanted now than he was a few minutes ago.

You can almost feel Seungkwan’s satisfaction from across the city, and it only makes you clench the bouquet harder. The playful irritation bubbling inside you suddenly feels like something else—was this jealousy? You push the thought aside. It’s ridiculous. Seungkwan is just your friend. He doesn’t mean anything by it, does he? Yet, the way Yuta’s laughter seems to wane, the way he glances at the bouquet with uncertainty, leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

“Look,” you start, leaning in, “I know this is kind of… bizarre. But it’s not like that. Really, it’s just him trying to mess with me.”

Yuta smiles, but it’s a little strained. “Right, well… I guess I’d better bring my A-game if I’m up against grand gestures like that.”

You sigh, giving him an apologetic smile. “Trust me, if there’s anyone that doesn’t need to compete with Seungkwan, it’s you.”

The conversation moves on, but there’s a noticeable change in Yuta’s demeanor. He glances at the bouquet one too many times, and even as he smiles, there’s a lingering distance that wasn’t there before. You feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you, and it gnaws at you that, in this moment, Seungkwan’s antics are the wedge between you and someone who could be something more.

By the end of the night, he’s still polite, still charming—but the spark feels a little dimmer. Seungkwan’s mission has been accomplished, and as Yuta bids you goodnight, his words are just a little too formal, a little too hesitant, making it painfully clear that he probably won’t be calling again. You should have been devastated. Yuta was the perfect gentleman – but something about a boy with the devious smirk, planning exactly when to have a bouquet of roses delivered, soothed the pain.

2 years, 9 months, and 18 days post-pact:

You never thought he’d go this far. Seungkwan, of all people, invited you out on a double date. The plan sounds innocent enough—a cozy dinner for four, just a casual night out. But the second you step into the dimly-lit, deafening restaurant he’s picked, you know he has a hidden agenda. The music’s loud, the lighting’s too low, and the tables are packed so close together you’re practically bumping elbows with strangers.

Settling into your seat, you force a smile as your date, Kevin—a genuinely nice guy with a warm laugh—leans in close, probably the only way he can hear you over the noise. Across the table, Seungkwan’s already chatting up his own date with way too much charm. Every time you try to ask Kevin a question or tell a story, Seungkwan seems to pick that exact moment to raise his voice.

“Oh, did I ever tell you about the time Y/N accidentally confessed to me?” Seungkwan practically shouts, cutting you off mid-sentence.

Kevin freezes, glancing between the two of you with a hesitant smile. “Wait… you guys dated?”

“Oh, no, no,” Seungkwan laughs, waving a hand dismissively, as if the thought is absurd. “Y/N only confesses on accident. Isn’t that right?” He sends you a playful, almost conspiratorial look, as if you’re both in on some inside joke—one that you’re definitely not part of.

You shoot him a glare, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “That was one time, and it was a misunderstanding!” You retort, but the laughter in his eyes makes you feel small. It’s not just annoyance you’re feeling; it’s a mixture of embarrassment and something deeper, a frustrating recognition of how easily he shifts the spotlight onto you.

As the evening progresses, the laughter and clinking of glasses fade into a dull background noise. You try steering the conversation back on track, giving Kevin an apologetic smile, but every time it seems like he’s interested again, Seungkwan throws in a casual remark, making sure no topic gets a chance to really take off.

By the end of the night, Kevin’s enthusiasm has dulled significantly. He gives you a polite, almost strained smile, saying something about “catching you later.” Seungwan’s date is no different. She attempts to give him a hug, but he somehow maneuvers it into the world’s most awkward handshake, and you stifle a giggle into your hand. With a quick wave, she’s gone too, leaving you alone with Seungkwan.

You turn to him, folding your arms as he grins, entirely too pleased with himself. “Why do you look like the cat that swallowed the canary?” You ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Because I had a wonderful evening with you, darling,” he replies, throwing an arm around your shoulders with an exaggerated wink.

“Do you always ruin dates for fun?” you fire back, trying to mask the mix of frustration and something that feels suspiciously like longing.

He shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What can I say? It’s part of my charm.”

You shove him off, but can’t fully hide the amusement flickering in your eyes. He catches it, his grin widening like he’s won something. For a second, you wonder if this is less sabotage and more of a game he doesn’t want either of you to stop playing.

But as the laughter fades, a heavy silence settles in. The thrill of their playful rivalry leaves you feeling conflicted, tugged in two directions: part of you relishes these moments of banter, while the other is increasingly aware of the emotional chaos underneath it all. You should be angry, but instead, a tiny voice in your head whispers that maybe, just maybe, this game is his way of keeping you close.

“What’s next, Seungkwan? Are you going to plan another ‘double date’ with your other friends just to make sure I never get a moment alone?” You challenge him, half-joking, but your heart races at the thought.

His laughter rings out, but there’s a flicker of something in his gaze, a hint of vulnerability that surprises you. “You know I’d never do that to you… I just like watching you squirm,” he admits, his tone lighter but the sincerity hidden underneath that’s palpable.

Suddenly, the air is thick with unspoken words and emotions, and you feel a strange mix of gratitude and frustration wash over you. Why can’t you just see him as the annoying frenemy he pretends to be? Why does it hurt a little too much to think about how you might actually miss him if he were to stop?

As you both stand to leave, your heart is a tangled mess, caught between the irritation he brings and the inexplicable thrill of having him in your life. He gives you one last playful nudge, and you can’t help but wonder if this rivalry is just a cover for something deeper, something you’re both too stubborn to acknowledge.

2 years, 11 months, 24 days post-pact:

After the double date fiasco, a week goes by, and you find yourself dress-shopping with Jeonghan. It's for Seungcheol’s wedding, and naturally, Jeonghan insisted on tagging along to “make sure you don’t show up looking like a bridesmaid nightmare.”

You’re in the dressing room, running your fingers over the delicate lace of the navy blue dress, adjusting the neckline before giving yourself one last glance in the mirror. Jeonghan’s already dismissed five of your previous picks with commentary ranging from “horrific” to “Good luck trying to upstage the bride in that.” But this one feels right. You’re almost nervous to step out, knowing he’s going to have plenty to say.

As you walk out, Jeonghan’s eyes narrow with that same hypercritical gaze he reserves for... well, everything. He circles you slowly, his hand resting gently on your shoulder as he steps back to get a better look, then reaches forward to adjust the strap by your collarbone with a delicate touch. “Hmm,” he muses, tapping his chin theatrically. “That one doesn’t look like it’s trying to be the main character.”

You sigh, unable to hold back a little smile as his hand lingers on your shoulder. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Hey, no, that’s a good thing,” he says, brushing his fingers over your sleeve reassuringly. “It’s got enough class to charm all the moms, and just enough allure to turn a few heads. But you won’t make anyone jealous.”

He grins and pinches your cheek affectionately, like he knows he’s giving the highest possible praise. You swat his hand away, laughing, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes your cheeks flush.

“Think Seungcheol will approve?” you ask, spinning around to check the back in the mirror, letting him watch you pretend you’re not grinning.

“Oh, Seungcheol?” Jeonghan gives a faux-surprised raise of his eyebrows and gently nudges your elbow, keeping his tone light. “I think someone else might have a stronger opinion than our blissfully oblivious groom-to-be.”

You look at him, and he just smirks, half-mischievous, half-knowing. “Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, the lace brushing against your neck as you turn back to the mirror.

“Like what?” he says, leaning his shoulder against yours with exaggerated innocence.

“Like you have any clue what you’re talking about,” you reply, smoothing the fabric of the dress, still avoiding his eyes.

Jeonghan hums thoughtfully, crossing his arms, but you can feel his gaze studying you in the mirror. “Alright, well then, tell me about this little ‘date rivalry’ with Seungkwan that I keep hearing about.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you try to focus on fixing a stray curl rather than looking at him. “It’s nothing, okay? Just a… joke.” You try to laugh it off, though you’re pretty sure he can tell you’re deflecting. “You know, one of those... running gags.”

He snorts and slings his arm over your shoulders casually, squeezing as he leans close to your ear. “Right, because a ‘silly joke’ lasts for, what… three years?”

You elbow him gently, trying to hide your smile. “Two years, eleven months, and twenty-four days,” you correct, giving him a playful nudge. “Not that I’m counting.”

“Oh, of course not,” he says, deadpan, squeezing your shoulder again as he leans in. “Hence all the sabotage and dramatic entrances and flirty messages you two just pretend to brush off.”

You roll your eyes, pulling his arm off your shoulders as you smooth down the fabric of the dress. “It’s really not that deep, Jeonghan. We just... tease each other. Keeps things interesting.”

“Hmm,” he says, draping an arm around your waist this time, like he’s just making himself comfortable. “And all this talk of keeping things ‘interesting’… It’s what? Your foolproof plan to stay single?”

You hesitate, leaning back into his casual embrace as you stare into the mirror, focusing on a barely-there wrinkle in the fabric rather than his too-observant gaze. “We just… keep each other entertained.”

He’s quiet for a second, watching you a little too closely, his chin resting on your shoulder now. “You know, some people choose each other because they’re in love, Y/N.”

You huff a laugh, nudging him off your shoulder but leaning against him a little longer than necessary. “And some people spend too much time meddling in other people’s love lives, Jeonghan.”

“Oh, guilty as charged.” He grins, unbothered, slipping his fingers through yours and giving your hand a quick squeeze. “But unlike you and Seungkwan, I don’t spend three years pretending I don’t have feelings for someone.”

You stare at him, but he’s already shifted his attention back to your outfit, reaching up to tuck a loose piece of hair behind your ear with a gentle touch. “So, who says I’m pretending anything?” you ask, looking down, hoping he doesn’t notice the warmth creeping up your neck.

“Oh, please,” he says softly, his hand lingering at the nape of your neck. “You two sabotage every other date, throw each other’s names into any conversation just to keep the other on your mind, and act like you don’t know what you’re doing. Speaking of which, I was the one who told Seungkwan what restaurant your date was at so he could send you those flowers.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you shove him lightly. “You did what?”

He chuckles, clearly amused by your reaction. “What? It’s not like I wanted you to end up with Yuto.”

“Yuta, and thanks for that, really,” you say, trying to keep your tone light despite the flutter of annoyance in your chest. “I thought I was going to have a nice evening.”

“Please, it was a public service,” Jeonghan insists, feigning seriousness. “And it was all part of the ‘evening the score’ strategy.”

You groan, half-amused and half-exasperated. “God, you’re impossible.”

He laughs, the sound light and infectious. “Well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Just know, I’m not done with this game yet.”

You swallow, feeling your throat tighten as his hand drops to your shoulder. He squeezes it gently, his touch grounding as you try to ignore the truth in his words. Jeonghan’s seen it all: the way Seungkwan’s messages light up your screen, the not-so-casual dinner invitations, and how every other date just... doesn’t quite measure up.

“So when’s the wedding?” he teases, giving your shoulder a playful shake.

“Oh my God,” you groan, half-smiling as you grab a hanger and whack him gently on the shoulder. “Can we not do this right now? You’re supposed to help me pick a dress, not psychoanalyze my love life.”

Jeonghan raises his hands in surrender, his grin shameless. “Alright, alright. But for the record, the entire group’s got their money on you two.”

Your mouth drops open, half-horrified, half-amused. “Excuse me?”

“Yep. Seungcheol thinks it’ll happen at his wedding. Joshua’s got New Year’s. And I, of course, bet on tonight,” he says, winking.

“Oh, really? You’re just that confident, huh?” you ask, punching his arm softly.

He grabs your hand, pulling it to his chest with an exaggerated sigh. “Come on, admit it. You’re a little curious to see if Seungkwan feels the same way.”

You stare at him, and he looks back with that rare, soft sincerity that makes it impossible to tell him off. His words stay with you, settling like a soft ache in your chest as he tugs you toward the counter to pay for the dress, his arm still draped loosely around your shoulders.

Later that night, as you lie in bed, Jeonghan’s voice echoes in your mind: “A silly joke doesn’t last three years, Y/N.” You reach for your phone, the screen casting a soft glow as you scroll through your texts with Seungkwan. Before you know it, you’ve typed out, Why do you keep doing this?

The message sends, and your heart hammers in the quiet as you wait. The response is almost immediate.

Because I know those guys aren’t right for you.

A smile pulls at the corners of your mouth as you type back, And who is?

This time, the pause is longer, and you can almost picture him hesitating. Then, his reply lights up the screen:

Maybe someone who’ll crash every date just to see you smile.

You toss your phone aside, pulling the covers up over your head, fighting a grin that’s nearly impossible to contain. Because maybe, just maybe, Jeonghan’s meddling isn’t so misguided after all.

3 years, 1 month, 11 days post-pact:

The night is warm, a faint breeze carrying the scent of roses and lavender through the garden. Twinkle lights strung above cast a soft glow over the reception area, while the hum of laughter and clinking glasses fills the air as guests flow between the tables and the dance floor. It’s the perfect evening for a wedding—Seungcheol's wedding, of all people, the friend who used to swear up and down that he’d never get tied down. The ceremony had been beautiful, of course, filled with tender vows and stolen glances, the kind of moments that only make the ache in your chest a little sharper. It’s the kind of night made for weddings—the sky deepening to a dusky navy color not unlike the rich blue of your dress, soft to the touch and fitted just right, brushing the tops of your heels.

As you catch glimpses of friends in the crowd, your gaze lands on Seungkwan, who stands just beyond the garden’s edge. The fairy lights soften his outline, illuminating his black suit—perfectly tailored to his frame—and his navy tie, which, oddly enough, matches your dress exactly. The thought comes with a smirk. Jeonghan had said nothing, but you know he had something to do with this.

“Oh hey,” he says, voice warm with that little hint of sarcasm that’s so him. “Didn’t expect you to be sneaking up on me like that. What happened—already bored with your dance partner?”

Rolling your eyes, you return his smile. “Hardly. I just needed a break. It’s like, the second you make eye contact with someone, they’re convinced you’re interested.”

He nods knowingly. “Trust me, I know the feeling.” For a moment, he glances back at the party, and you both lapse into comfortable silence, letting the hum of music and laughter fill the space between you. But when he looks back, there’s something softer, almost vulnerable in his expression.

“So here we are,” he murmurs, crossing his arms, “just the two of us again, while everyone else is off being sentimental.”

Something in his tone makes you pause. It’s rare to see him peel back the layers of playful banter, but there’s a weight in his words that has your heart pounding a little faster.

“What, is being single at a wedding getting to you?” you tease, trying to keep things light, but his answering look is serious, his eyes narrowing just slightly.

“Oh, please,” he says, shaking his head with a slight huff. “But�� I can’t lie; that pact of ours has been on my mind.”

The “if we’re both single at thirty, let’s get married” pact. A joke you’d made years ago, on a night not so different from this one, laughing over the idea of “settling” if neither of you found someone by then. You raise an eyebrow, voice softening. “That was just a joke, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he replies, but his voice is softer, almost wistful, and he looks down at his hands. "It was a joke."

Your breath catches, feeling an ache that’s both familiar and new, the words between you now feeling a little too real. You’re about to say something when Jeonghan’s voice interrupts, calling your name from across the garden. He’s grinning, waving you both over.

"Hey!" he calls, all too cheerfully. "Are you coming to join the dance floor or just hiding in the shadows?"

Seungkwan groans, rolling his eyes. “Looks like my break’s over,” he mutters, but there’s a reluctant smile there as he lets Jeonghan drag you both toward the dance floor.

A new song starts, slower than the upbeat tracks that played earlier, and suddenly, everyone around you is pairing off. Before you know it, Jeonghan has nudged Seungkwan into place in front of you, giving him a wink as he steps back. The faintest pink dusts Seungkwan’s cheeks, but he recovers quickly, giving you a playful smirk as he offers you his hand.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs as you take his hand, his touch warm as he pulls you closer. The scent of his cologne wraps around you, subtle yet comforting, and his hand on your waist grounds you as the two of you sway under the twinkle lights.

It’s maddening, how close he is, how his gaze holds yours with a quiet intensity that feels like it’s about to crack through years of careful friendship. For a moment, the world around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his hand, the navy blue of his tie, the slow rhythm of the music, and the unspoken words hanging between you.

But just as quickly, Seungkwan clears his throat, breaking the spell as he takes a step back, glancing away. “I should… um, I should probably go help Jeonghan with…” His voice trails off as he disappears into the crowd.

You stand there, heart racing, feeling the weight of what was left unfinished. Jeonghan appears at your side, giving you a knowing smile.

“Go after him,” he says, nudging you with a grin. "Trust me, it’s time.”

With a deep breath, you weave through the clusters of guests, catching sight of Seungkwan just past the garden’s edge, leaning against a tree, looking out into the night.

As you approach, he turns, eyes widening just slightly before he speaks. “Oh. You’re here.” There’s a vulnerability about him that takes you by surprise.

“Yeah. Still… need a break,” you reply, barely above a whisper, and there’s a pause as he searches your gaze, something soft and hopeful flickering in his eyes.

“Seungkwan, I-” you start, voice shaking just a bit. He chuckles, shaking his head, but there’s no humor in it.

“Don’t say anything you don’t mean right now, Y/N,” he warns, voice low. You swallow hard, the weight of his words settling over you like the warm, heavy night air. Behind you, the music fades as guests migrate to the bar, the hum of conversation filling the garden. But here, in this quiet corner under the fairy lights, it feels like you’re the only two people in the world.

“Why?” you ask, feeling your cheeks warm. “Do you have something you need to tell me?”

He pauses, glancing down at the ground and taking a deep breath, his fingers flexing at his sides as though he’s gathering courage. When he looks back up, there’s something vulnerable in his gaze, raw and unguarded in a way you’ve never seen before. “I’m saying that maybe, just maybe, I’ve wanted this all along.”

His confession hits you like a wave, a rush of emotion you weren’t prepared for. Memories flood back—those lingering glances, nights spent sabotaging each other’s dates, and playful jabs that always seemed to hit a little too close to the heart.

You manage a shaky breath, words tumbling out before you can stop them. “You’re not… just saying this because of the open bar, are you?”

He laughs, a soft sound that cuts through the tension, and steps a little closer, his hand brushing yours. The slight contact is electric, sending a thrill through you. “I’ve had plenty of chances to back out of that pact,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a near whisper. “But I didn’t want to. Because I kept hoping… that maybe it wasn’t just a joke to you, either.”

For a moment, time seems to stop. The music, the laughter, the soft glow of the lights—all of it fades until there’s only him, his face inches from yours, his hand hovering near your waist. His touch is gentle, yet electric, barely there, but enough to make your heart race and a thrill skitter down your spine. You can see the way his eyes search yours, a mix of vulnerability and desire reflected in their depths.

“Well, if we’re being honest… maybe I’ve been waiting for you, too,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly as the words slip free. The admission feels like a weight lifting, revealing the truth you’ve both danced around for far too long.

He lets out a breath, almost a sigh of relief, and pulls you a fraction closer, his hand settling firmly at your waist, warm and steady. The world around you blurs into a hazy backdrop, and all that matters is the heat radiating from his body, the way his thumb strokes your side, sending warmth pooling low in your belly. His smile is soft, just for you, a detail that makes your pulse quicken. Damn Jeonghan.

“Fucking finally,” he whispers, his voice low and inviting, igniting a fire deep within you. He leans in, closing the space between your lips, the anticipation crackling in the air like static electricity. His breath mingles with yours, warm and tantalizing, and in that moment, it feels as if the entire universe has tilted just for the two of you.

Then his lips meet yours in a kiss that’s as warm and gentle as the night around you. It’s soft, exploratory, as if he’s afraid to rush and scare you off, yet there’s a warmth that ignites between you, a spark that feels both thrilling and reassuring. The kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours with a sweet urgency, a rhythm that feels instinctive.

You can taste the hint of mint on his breath, the lingering flavor of a cocktail from earlier in the evening, and it mingles with the scent of his cologne—a heady blend that makes your senses spin. As his fingers slide further down to the small of your back, pulling you closer, it’s like everything has led up to this one perfect, terrifying moment.

He groans against your lips, and it makes your breath catch. “Three years,” he whispers, nipping at your bottom lip until you melt against him with a sigh, “I’ve waited three years to do this.”

You pull him closer by his tie. “Then shut up and kiss me more, Boo.”

He obliges with glee, running his hands up the buttons of your dress until you shiver. With each soft sigh that escapes you, you can feel the warmth pooling deeper, a delicious tension that makes the air around you crackle. The kiss ignites something primal between you, a yearning that has been simmering just beneath the surface, and every part of you is alive with the sensation of him. It feels as if the whole world has faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in this moment—breathless, hearts racing, and tangled in each other.

When you finally pull apart, breathless and wide-eyed, the sounds of the wedding rush back in, laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. But all you can focus on is him, the way his gaze holds yours, sparkling with a mix of surprise and delight, as if he can’t believe what just happened.

For a second, you just stare at each other.

“Wow,” he breathes, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t know we were doing that tonight.”

You can’t help but grin back, the thrill of the moment still coursing through you. “I guess we both had a little waiting to do,” you tease, a soft challenge in your voice, and you can see the spark of mischief in his eyes as he steps closer, closing the distance once more.

As he steps closer, the air between you crackles with electricity. “You know,” he murmurs, hands tickling your waist, fingers brushing just enough to send delightful shivers down your spine, “we should do that again. For science.”

“For science?” you echo, trying to sound serious but failing as a laugh escapes you.

“Absolutely,” he insists, leaning in slightly, his breath warm and inviting. The moment feels suspended in time, as if nothing else exists but the two of you and this playful game you’ve begun.

You pull back just enough to look into his eyes, the mischief swirling there igniting a flutter in your chest. “So, how many trials do you think we should run? Five? Ten?”

He leans in, his forehead nearly brushing against yours, a teasing grin still plastered on his face. His hands find your waist again, this time holding you a little tighter, his fingers warm against your skin, and you feel your heart race in anticipation.

“Maybe we should just keep going until we know for sure,” you suggest, your voice barely a whisper, laden with both challenge and excitement.

“Now that’s the spirit,” he replies, and before you can react, he swoops in, capturing your lips with his once more. This kiss is bolder, filled with laughter and the thrill of newfound freedom, as though you’ve crossed a line into something deeper and more exhilarating together.

As you pull away, breathless and grinning like giddy schoolchildren, you hear Jeonghan’s voice from behind you. “Oi! This is a WEDDING!”

You turn to find Jeonghan approaching with a playful pout, arms crossed over his chest. “I can’t believe you two actually went for it!” He shakes his head, mock-serious. “Seungcheol! You officially win the bet. You said they’d get together at your wedding, and look at this!”

Seungkwan’s hold on you tightens slightly, an instinctive response to the sudden attention. He leans closer, his warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket, and you can feel a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanor, contrasting with his earlier bravado. You exchange sheepish glances, cheeks flushed with embarrassment under Jeonghan’s teasing gaze.

“I can’t believe Jeonghan was right,” Seungkwan mutters, still smiling but now a little bashful, as he nudges you playfully, fingers lingering at your waist as if he’s reluctant to let go.

Jeonghan feigns indignation, throwing his hands up dramatically. “This is unfair! You get a bride AND you win the bet on the same day? What kind of luck is that?”

“Guess you’ll have to deal with it,” Seungcheol says with a laugh, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his new bride’s cheek. She preens with attention, and it makes you lean a little closer to Seungkwan.

You let Jeonghan pout, turning back to Seungkwan with a grin.

“Guess this means I don’t have to keep sabotaging you anymore?” he teases, his hands still resting on your waist.

You laugh, swatting his shoulder playfully. “Oh, no way. I think you’re stuck with me now, Boo Seungkwan. We’ll find a new game to play.”

“Here’s to our next game, then,” Seungkwan declares, raising an imaginary glass. “No more hearts; I’m thinking something more… hands-on.”

Jeonghan pretends to puke, and it makes you laugh that much harder. As you glance around the wedding venue, laughter and celebration filling the air, it dawns on you how different this moment is from where it all began. The pact you had with Seungkwan was never about waiting. It was about finding your way to each other all along.

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hannahssimblr · 1 day ago

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After eight, in the inner city, I hold the door for Astrid. We step inside the restaurant and heat hits our faces in a waft, warming our frozen skin. Astrid slips her gloves off, folds her hat and unzips her coat with ease as I struggle, suddenly far too hot in my hat, the zip of my coat slipping between gloved fingers. I’ve pulled it inside out by the time the cloakroom attendant takes it out of my hands. I have walked snow onto the carpet behind me, while Astrid, miraculously, has not.

“They’re all here already,” she says. “We’re the last.”

“Yes, like always.”

It’s a table for six, and there our friends sit in conversation, their menus already on the table.

“Oh, Astrid! Jude!” Elias gets up from his seat at the head of the table to hug us. His smile, big and white, and his face flushed from the heat.

“We’re late,” Astrid points out. She speaks apologetically, but doesn’t actually apologise. “But we have your gift.”

“Oh!” He takes the gift bag from her and kisses both her cheeks. “This is so nice, my God, Astrid.”

I bought it, actually; the scarf made with some kind of silk mohair something-or-other, but Astrid picked it out, so really it’s she that deserves the credit. He’ll think she wrote the card too, even though she didn’t. I’m the one with the nicer handwriting.

“‘Dear Elias, on your twenty-first birthday,’” he reads as we join him at the table. “‘Here’s hoping for a year as fabulous as you are. I hope I know you forever, and we can party together at ninety-one too. You won’t need the scarf in Bali, but we hope it keeps you warm when you touch back down in Berlin next month. With love, Astrid and Jude.’ Oh,” he holds it to his chest. “You two are so sweet.”

“You are not supposed to say happy birthday unless it is a person’s actual birthday,” says Leon, swirling his wine around and pretending he can smell notes of bergamot, or whatever the server said was in it. He takes a sip, then sends the bottle back to the kitchen.

“Oh, okay, sorry,” I say. “We should have posted the card to Indonesia. That was really stupid of us, you’re right.”

His nostrils flare while Jonas, next to him, peruses a menu.

“Wow,” he comments, “Forty seven euro for the monkfish. It seems expensive.”

“Well, it’s an occasion,” Leon says, as the server returns with a second, hopefully more acceptable, bottle of wine. “We all agreed to eat at a nice restaurant.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Oh? What occasion is it?”

“Elias’ birthday, of course, what are you-” he breaks off to mutter to the server, who then circles the table to fill our glasses.

“I thought we just agreed not to mention the birthday until the actual birthday, which is not today, right? What date is it, again?”

Dalia sighs from her end of the table. “Jude, oh lord.”

Leon rolls his eyes. “You are being immature.”

What’s actually immature is a twenty-six-year-old man making an unnecessary enemy of someone who still has the word ‘teen’ at the end of their age, but Dalia is already kicking me beneath the table before I can open my mouth to point this out.

“I would love to see Bali,” Astrid sighs. “When it’s so cold like this, I feel I can’t stand it. I just want to be somewhere nice and warm.”

Elias smiles. “Well, maybe for your twenty-first birthday, your boyfriend will take you there.”

“Well, we’ve just booked tickets to Amalfi, actually,” I say. “We’re going in April.”

“Oh, I love Italy.”

“Me too,” Astrid clutches his hand in hers, a gesture of excitement in their shared love of, whatever, gelato or something. They converse about places they’ve been, and what they’ve seen, using the correct, Italian pronunciation, which is fine, because that’s how they’re supposed to be pronounced, and Astrid is fluent in Italian, but sometimes when I’m privy to conversations like this, I think of Jen, and the way she’d laugh if she ever overheard them.

Whenever a natural gap opens up in their conversation, I consider adding in my own anecdote about the time I went to Rome on a school trip when I was sixteen, and the school was cheap, so they made us do the whole journey by bus, which was so boring that Fitzy and I started squeezing dollops of toothpaste into people’s hair as they slept and posing alongside them with our two fingers up. Our punishment took the form of the teachers revoking our passes to St Peters Basilica, so while the others were in there, taking zoomed in photos of Michelangelo’s tiny penis, we spent two hours roaming the streets in search of a Dominos Pizza, which we did eventually find. Mine slipped out of its box and onto the pavement before I had even taken a bite, and we posed for photos with our two fingers up next to that, too.

But I know that if I tell the story, and Elias won’t react the way I want him to, but gasp, and look very sad as though it’s a tragedy, and then later, Astrid will ask me why I decided to share the story in the first place, because it was kind of awkward. When Elias asks me if I’ve been to Italy before, I simply smile, and I say no.

“You will adore it, then. Will you hire a car?”

“I suppose we will, right? Makes sense.”

Astrid nods.

“Well, then, if you’re staying in Amalfi, you might as well drive to Sorrento. Leon and I once stayed in this incredible hotel with a sea view. I can find out what it is called.”

“Oh, please.” Her thumb strokes the back of my hand. “We could add one or two more nights to our trip, do you think?”

I smile. “Yeah, of course we can.”

He tells her about a restaurant that does gnocchi in such a way that is notably different from other gnocchis in the region, and they continue, even as the food arrives. Tiny portions. I forgot the name of what I ordered.

Across the table, Leon and Jonas listen as Dalia talks animatedly.

“Right, and then, the woman, whose name is Martha, by the way, turns to me, and she says-”

She is halfway through a story that needs more context than what I have. I open my phone.

Jen, just thinking about our school tour to Rome lmao. Oh my God - the one where the teachers caught Ashling Duggan hiding you under her bed in the hostel? Hahahahaha yes! I still tell people about that trip, like, it’s always my go-to story with new people. Same, we’re just at dinner now, talking about Italy. I was just remembering all the stupid things that happened. And didn’t Cian Hayes shit himself or something??? I’m always foggy on that specific detail. Yeah, and he turned his underpants inside out because he was too lazy to get out of bed.

Omg sick. What do your friends think of the story?

My thumb hovers over the keyboard.

Yeah, they laughed. Show them that compilation of photos of you and Fitzy with all your sleeping toothpaste victims. Oh, God, I don’t have those anymore. I think I left all my photos in Dublin. What a waste! I’ll go dig them out someday, and take them with when I come to Berlin. Okay! Come soon, please. I miss you.

I miss you too, Judie. It’s honestly so weird that you have a whole new girlfriend I haven’t even met. I know. It’s weird for me too, but you’ll love her. She’s amazing. I bet. She’s beautiful. Understatement. I don’t know how you keep pulling it off. Well, I’d be stupid if I didn't go out with her, wouldn’t I? Yeah, probably. Lucky you aren’t stupid, then.

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#lucky boy 2011 #sims 4 story #simblr #simsblr story #sims community

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nameless-ken · 2 days ago

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Bucky Barnes x Reader - Part Three

Word count: 7.4k

Warnings: none, fluff as always and some angst

Part One | Part Two

Masterlist

As you step through the door, balancing the warm pie in your hands, a flurry of laughter and chatter greets you.

“Miss Y/L/N is here!” Elizabeth shouts excitedly and grabs your free hand, practically dancing you inside.

“Hey!” Steve appears from the kitchen, giving you a welcoming smile and takes the pie from your hands. “Glad you could make it.”

Before you have a chance to reply, Elizabeth pulls you further into the gathering, introducing you Sam, Natasha, Clint, and Bruce, all gathered around with warm smiles and friendly greetings. Bucky hovers a little ways back, hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders a touch tense. His eyes meet yours, just for a moment, and he gives you a small, slightly shy smile before looking away.

As you all move into the living room, the group’s easy chatter and laughter fill the air. You find yourself among a mix of friendly faces, each one seeming to bring something special to the room. Sam, ever the conversationalist, quickly pulls you into a story about an “epic” camping trip that had apparently ended with him rescuing Bucky from a raccoon, much to everyone’s amusement.

“Trust me,” Sam says with a grin, “Bucky here might look tough, but get him in the woods, and he’s toast. Isn’t that right, Buck?”

Bucky, leaning back with his arms crossed, rolls his eyes, clearly amused but trying to hide a smile. “I’d like to see you handle it any better, Wilson,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on,” Sam says, his gaze sliding toward you with a gleam of mischief. “He talks a big game, but you wouldn’t believe how much he’s told us about you.”

You feel a surprised blush creeping up, and Bucky’s expression goes from mildly amused to visibly embarrassed in seconds. “Sam,” he warns, his voice low but lacking any real bite.

Sam just smirks, clearly having too much fun. “What? You can’t spend weeks talking about someone and then get shy now that she’s actually here.” He turns back to you with a wink. “Honestly, we were starting to wonder if you were even real.”

Everyone laughs, and you can’t help but join in, glancing over at Bucky, who’s now rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze but clearly fighting a smile. “Don’t let him get to you,” he says, half under his breath, still looking anywhere but at you.

“It’s nice to know I made such an impression,” you say lightly, hoping to ease his nerves.

Natasha chimes in, leaning forward with a teasing smile. “Oh, he’s told us plenty. All good things, I assure you.”

Bucky’s face reddens slightly, and he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. You smile, touched by how endearing his shyness is. There’s something reassuring in knowing he might have felt the same quiet, lingering thoughts about you as you have about him.

You excuse yourself, wanting to say hi to Peggy, who you haven’t seen for a while for school pickup.

In the cozy warmth of the kitchen, there is Elizabeth and Peggy, who is finishing up the last touches on dinner. The scent of roasted vegetables and warm spices fills the air as Elizabeth stands on her tiptoes, carefully sprinkling fresh herbs over a dish. She’s focused, her little hands steady, but when she sees you step into the kitchen, her face lights up.

“Come help!” she whispers, gesturing you over with a small wave.

“Oh hi Y/N. It’s so good to see you again! Elizabeth is so excited to have you over.” Peggy smiles brightly as she pulls you into a hug quickly.

“I really appreciate the invite. Can I help with anything?” You offer your service up. You always hate showing up empty handed or standing around while the hosts do everything.

“Elizabeth, why don’t you help Miss Y/L/N set the table?” Peggy hands her napkins while gesturing to the remaining dishes on the counter.

You follow Elizabeth’s lead, handing her each item as you arrange the table. Elizabeth glances around to make sure no one is paying attention, then leans close, her voice low.

“Guess what?” she whispers conspiratorially, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Uncle Bucky likes you. He told me you’re his favorite friend.”

The comment catches you off guard, and you feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. You look down to hide it, but as you lift your gaze again, your eyes meet Bucky’s across the room. He’s leaning against the doorway, hands in his pockets, watching the two of you with a gentle expression. The second he realizes you’re looking back, his eyes widen slightly, and he quickly shifts his gaze to the floor, looking like he’s been caught.

You try to laugh it off, but you can’t help glancing back at Bucky. This time, he’s watching you more openly, his gaze soft and unguarded, as if he’s allowing himself to hope. The rest of the room fades for a moment, and in that shared look, a quiet understanding passes between you—a feeling unspoken but undeniable, settling in the spaces between words.

Elizabeth tugs your sleeve gently, breaking the spell. “See?” she whispers with a grin. “I knew he liked you.”

The table is soon filled with food, and everyone finds their seat. You end up across from Bucky, who seems even quieter than usual, his gaze flicking between his plate and the people around him. When your eyes meet across the table, he gives you another brief, tentative smile before focusing back on his mashed potatoes.

As everyone digs into their food, Natasha catches you up on a few funny stories about Steve, who rolls his eyes but laughs along. Clint chimes in with his own antics, earning a lighthearted smack from Natasha, and the easy laughter fills the room, warming the space around you. Bucky seems to relax as he listens to them, glancing your way every so often but always looking away just as quickly.

As dinner progresses, you’re drawn into lively conversations with the others around the table. Bruce, sitting to your left, asks about your work, genuinely interested, his warm smile making you feel right at home.

“So, how long have you been teaching?” Bruce asks, leaning in as the others pass around dessert plates.

“Quite awhile now, almost eight years,” you reply, glancing over at Elizabeth, who’s absorbed in a chat with Peggy about the cookies they baked together earlier. “It’s challenging, but it’s worth every bit of effort. Kids like Elizabeth make it all so rewarding.”

Across the table, Bucky catches your eye. He’s been quiet throughout the meal, but there’s a look in his eyes—a mixture of admiration and something deeper—that makes your heart skip a beat. He gives you a small, almost shy smile, as if he’s only just realizing how much he appreciates having you here. You feel a warmth settle over you, a silent exchange that says more than words could.

“So, Y/N,” Natasha says from down the table, her voice pulling you back into the moment, “you seem to be handling our chaos well.”

“Oh, it’s definitely been entertaining,” you laugh, glancing around. “But in a good way. I think I could get used to this.”

Natasha grins, raising an eyebrow. “Well, if you’re sticking around, maybe you’ll be here long enough to see us all argue over board games next,” she says, her tone mischievous.

Steve chuckles, setting his fork down. “Careful—Nat’s competitive streak knows no bounds. She once beat Clint’s winning streak at Uno, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t forgiven her yet.”

“Rematch is on the agenda,” Clint interjects with a dramatic sigh, giving Natasha a pointed look. “Just wait until tonight.”

“See?” Sam says, throwing you a wink. “If you’re up for some cutthroat board gaming, you’re in for a real treat.”

You smile, settling back into your chair, and your gaze drifts back to Bucky. Across the table, his expression softens as he watches you, his thumb absently rubbing along the rim of his glass. There’s an unspoken connection building between you, and you can feel it more clearly with each shared glance, every gentle smile that passes between you two.

As the evening begins to wind down, you find yourself surrounding the coffee table with the others as an intense game of Uno is being played. You’ve practically given up at this point as Sam has conveniently played all his pick twos and fours on you.

“UNO!” Clint yells as he holds one card in his hands, staring Natasha down. Natasha actually looks nervous and annoyed by the five cards in her hands.

“Okay you suck Barton. You got lucky.” Natasha tosses a card down, then Bruce, Peggy, Steve, Sam and finally you, until it gets to Clint again, who plays his remaining card, winning the game.

Clint grins triumphantly, leaning back with his arms crossed, basking in the group’s groans of defeat. “What can I say? Skill like this can’t be taught,” he teases, earning a playful nudge from Natasha.

“Oh, enjoy it while it lasts,” she retorts, narrowing her eyes at him with a smirk. “I’m coming for you next round.”

As the group resets the cards for another round, you glance around the room, only to realize that Bucky and Elizabeth are no longer there. You hadn’t noticed them slip away, but the absence of their presence makes you suddenly curious.

Excusing yourself, you rise from the couch and quietly make your way down the hallway, glancing into a few rooms before pausing at Elizabeth’s bedroom door. Inside, you spot them: Bucky, seated cross-legged on the floor, and Elizabeth, eagerly arranging a circle of dolls in front of him.

Elizabeth is chattering away, explaining the intricate backstory of each doll, while Bucky listens intently, nodding with the utmost seriousness. The sight is both heartwarming and a little amusing—Bucky, who so often keeps to himself, fully engrossed in this imaginary world with her.

“...and she’s the queen, so she makes all the rules,” Elizabeth says firmly, placing a doll in a paper crown in front of Bucky. “And you have to be the king. That’s the rule.”

Bucky lifts the doll she hands him with gentle fingers, studying it with a small, genuine smile. “The king, huh? What’s he supposed to do?”

“He has to make sure everyone is safe,” Elizabeth replies, glancing up at him with an adoring look. “And be brave.”

You feel yourself smiling, charmed by the way he goes along with her game without a trace of reluctance. Leaning against the doorframe, you clear your throat softly, and Bucky’s head snaps up, surprised. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, there’s something unspoken there—an almost shy warmth that makes your heart race.

“Oh, hi!” Elizabeth says, beaming when she sees you. “Do you want to play, too?”

You step inside, kneeling down beside them. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your royal council,” you say with a grin, looking between them.

“Nonsense,” Bucky says, giving you a playful look as he scoots over to make room for you. “Every kingdom needs a trusted advisor.”

Settling in beside them, you pick up a doll, and the three of you quickly fall into an easy rhythm, building an imaginary world that feels as warm as the room around you. At one point, your hand brushes against Bucky’s, lingering there for a moment, and he glances at you with that same gentle, quiet smile. There’s something comforting—and thrilling—about being here like this with him.

When Elizabeth leans forward to adjust the queen’s crown, Bucky catches your eye again, his gaze lingering, filled with a depth you hadn’t quite noticed before tonight. There’s a silent understanding between you, one that promises more than either of you have said aloud yet.

And for now, that’s enough.

As the evening winds down, the group gradually disperses, the air filled with laughter and a lingering warmth that only a night with friends can bring. One by one, the others begin saying their goodbyes, each of them giving you a warm smile or a quick hug, leaving you feeling more at home than you’ve felt in a long time.

Elizabeth, exhausted from the excitement, gives you a sleepy smile as Peggy ushers her toward her room. “Thanks for playing with us,” she murmurs, her eyes heavy-lidded. You smile and squeeze her hand gently.

“Anytime,” you reply softly. “You were the best queen tonight.”

Elizabeth beams at you, her face lighting up for just a moment before she stifles a yawn and allows Peggy to lead her away. You watch her disappear down the hall, feeling an unexpected warmth in your chest.

When you turn back to the living room, Bucky is there, his hands tucked into his pockets, a soft smile on his face. The others have mostly gone, leaving just the two of you in the quiet, cozy glow of the dimmed lights.

“Looks like you’re about to head out too,” he says quietly, his voice low and slightly raspy from the night of talking.

You nod, glancing down for a moment before meeting his gaze. “Yeah, it’s getting late,” you say, trying to keep your tone light, though your heart is racing a bit.

He steps forward, hesitating for just a moment, his gaze lingering on yours with that same softness that’s been there all night. “Thanks for coming. Elizabeth had a great time tonight,” he says, his voice warm. “And… so did I.”

The two of you stand in silence for a beat, neither one of you quite ready to break whatever has been building between you since dinner. He opens his mouth, as if to say something else, but stops, looking at you with a quiet intensity that makes you wonder if he feels it too.

You reach out and gently touch his arm, giving him a small smile. “Thanks for having me over. I really enjoyed tonight… and seeing this side of you,” you add, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

He lets out a soft chuckle, his cheeks flushing slightly as his gaze drifts to the floor, a faint smile on his lips. “Maybe, um… we could do this again sometime. Just, you know, without the whole crew.”

Your heart skips a beat at the suggestion, warmth spreading through you. “I’d like that,” you say, meeting his eyes and holding his gaze for a moment longer. “Here, put your number in and we can talk more about it later.” You grab your phone with shaking hands, flustered from Bucky’s presence.

Bucky types his name and number, saving it. As you tuck your phone back into your pocket, Bucky glances at you, his blue eyes holding that same softness from earlier, now laced with a spark of anticipation.

“Guess I’ll, uh, see you soon then,” he says, his voice barely above a murmur, as if not wanting to break the fragile quiet around you both.

“Yeah, soon,” you reply, your voice coming out softer than intended, carrying all the unspoken things you want to say but aren’t quite ready to.

Your smile grows as he helps you pull your coat on, and just before you turn to leave, he gives your hand a quick, gentle squeeze—a touch so brief that if you hadn’t been paying attention, you might have missed it.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says softly, his voice wrapped in that low, comforting tone that you’re starting to find so familiar.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you reply, your voice lingering a little longer than it should, letting the silence stretch between you both for just a breath more.

You step out into the cool night, the air feeling sharper after the warmth of the evening, but your mind is buzzing too much to notice. As you walk down the quiet street, you can still feel the gentle brush of his fingers, the look in his eyes, and the quiet promise hanging in the air between you.

The next day, you find yourself reaching for your phone, unable to resist the urge to text Bucky. After a little mental back and forth, you type out a message and hit send:

You: Morning, Bucky 😊 Hope you and Elizabeth got some rest after last night’s big feast!

It doesn’t take long before he replies:

Bucky: Morning. We definitely did—she practically passed out the second she hit her pillow.

You smile, picturing Elizabeth’s sleepy face and tousled hair, and quickly type a reply.

You: Well, she was a very busy queen last night! Hope you got some rest, too.

Bucky: I did. Kept thinking about how much fun she had with you, though. I think she’d keep you around full-time if she could.

You: It was a perfect end to Friendsgiving! Are you sure you’re up for a repeat next year?

Bucky: Only if you promise to sit across from me again. I’m not sure I could handle it otherwise. 😉

You feel your cheeks warm at the subtle flirtation, and you can’t help but lean into it a little.

You: Oh, so it was my company that kept you going? I’m flattered, Barnes.

There’s a pause, and then a new message pops up:

Bucky: Speaking of… I was thinking about next weekend. I’d like to take you somewhere, if you’re free on Saturday?

Your heart does a little flip. You can almost hear his voice through the words, steady but with a hint of anticipation.

You: Definitely. I’d say I could survive another night of your charm.

Bucky: Oh, you’re in trouble now. I’ve been told I’m even more charming one-on-one.

You: Is that so? Guess I’ll have to brace myself.

He calls suddenly, interrupting your next message, and you pick up, a little caught off guard but excited.

“Hey,” you say, trying to sound casual, but there’s a definite smile in your voice.

“Hey,” he replies, his tone warm and familiar. “Thought I’d call before I accidentally type a novel. Or break my phone trying.”

You laugh. “Honestly, I was ready to read the whole thing.”

“Noted,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Guess I’ll have to brush up on my typing skills.”

“I don’t mind this though,” you reply softly. “Hearing your voice instead of reading texts.”

There’s a comfortable pause before he speaks again, sounding a bit more relaxed. “I’m looking forward to Saturday… any food preferences, by the way?”

“Nothing fancy,” you say. “Just good company—and maybe a view?”

“Company I’ve got covered. And I know just the place with a great view,” he promises, his voice softening. “I’ll make sure it’s perfect.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good,” he replies, his tone warm. After a beat, he adds, “Thanks for giving this a chance.”

“Thanks for asking,” you reply, the warmth in his voice settling around you like a blanket.

There’s a comfortable silence, neither of you quite ready to say goodbye, as if each shared word and laugh has deepened the connection even further.

“Well,” he finally says, his voice quieter, almost reluctant. “I’ll see you Saturday, then.”

“Looking forward to it,” you reply, a smile on your face.

It’s been a busy week, and the anticipation of your date with Bucky tomorrow has kept a quiet excitement buzzing through you since this morning.

You say goodbye to the students as their parents pick them up. Elizabeth is the last one out running down the hall with a shout of a goodbye to you. You laugh at her eagerness to get to Bucky and you can’t blame her. You’d do the same.

As you lock up your classroom and exit the school doors, you immediately spot Bucky, leaning against his car parked by the curb, Elizabeth sitting in her carseat with her tablet, watching her favorite Barbie movie.

Bucky is leaning against his car, looking as relaxed and calm as you’ve ever seen him outside the school. He’s dressed in a deep red henley and dark jeans. It's the small bouquet of flowers in his hands that catches your eye—a simple, elegant arrangement of red roses.

You stop in your tracks for a moment, heart skipping a beat. As if he senses you, he looks up, his face breaking into a grin when he sees you.

"Hey," he says, pushing off the truck slightly and onto the sidewalk with one glance toward Elizabeth to make sure she’s still okay. "I hope you don’t mind. I figured I’d bring you these... thought it might be a nice way to kick off the weekend."

You feel warmth spread through you as he offers you the flowers, and you can’t help but smile. "Bucky... these are beautiful. You really didn’t have to."

He shrugs, a soft laugh escaping him. "I wanted to. Plus, I figured I’d start things off right before our date tomorrow."

You raise an eyebrow, the teasing smile playing on your lips. "Are you trying to set the bar high already, Barnes?"

Bucky looks a little flustered, his cheeks flushing slightly, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes. "Well, you know, I’ve gotta keep up with any other contenders to make sure I stay on top." His voice drops a little as he adds, "And I just wanted to make sure you knew I’m really looking forward to tomorrow."

“I can assure you, there is no other competition.” Your heart melts just a little at the sincerity in his voice. "I’m looking forward to it too," you reply softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Bucky's gaze softens as he watches you, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Good. Because I think tomorrow's gonna be a lot of fun."

Before the moment can stretch into something heavier, Elizabeth's voice cuts through the air from the car, her high-pitched excitement unmistakable. "Uncle Bucky! Look! Barbie's going to the beach!" she announces proudly, waving her tablet in the air as if it’s a trophy.

You both glance over at her, and Bucky chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. "She's really into that movie lately," he says, a touch of amusement in his voice.

You laugh, watching the little girl practically bouncing in her seat. "Well, Barbie certainly knows how to make an impression."

Bucky smiles at the comment, but there's a soft, almost nostalgic look in his eyes as he watches her. He leans in toward you, his voice quieter this time. "She’s been asking about you, you know. Keeps asking when you’re going to go back over to her house again."

Your heart flutters at the thought. "She’s such a sweetheart," you reply, the warmth in your chest spreading. "I’m glad she likes me."

Bucky’s smile widens, but there's a subtle vulnerability in his expression that makes you pause. "I think she’s kind of hoping you’ll come hang out with us more. I can’t say I blame her."

"Well," you begin, trying to keep the mood light, "it’s hard to say no to such a persuasive little one."

His gaze softens and for a brief second, there’s a quiet intensity between you, the world around you seeming to fade for just a heartbeat. "Alright then. Tomorrow it is," he says with a small nod, his smile growing.

"Definitely," you reply, a smile tugging at your lips as you watch him climb into the driver’s seat of the truck, Elizabeth already turning the volume up on her tablet.

He waves at you through the window before pulling away, and you watch them drive off, feeling that same buzz of excitement filling you up for what tomorrow might bring.

As you make your way to your car, you can’t help but replay the quiet exchange in your mind—the warmth in his eyes, the sincerity of his words. Tomorrow might be the start of something even better than you’d imagined.

The sun is beginning to dip lower in the sky as you finish up your preparations for the evening. It’s Saturday—your first real date with Bucky, and the nerves you’ve been feeling all day are only now settling in. You’re nervous, but it’s a good kind of nervous. It’s the kind of nervous that comes with looking forward to something new, something exciting.

You’re just finishing up a last-minute check in the mirror when you hear a knock on the door. Your heart skips a beat.

You open it to find Bucky standing there, his familiar grin lighting up his face. He’s dressed casually, in a deep green button-up shirt, sleek dress pants, and a leather jacket, his usual relaxed style elevated with a subtle touch of sophistication. Somehow, tonight, it all seems to make your pulse quicken in a way you didn’t expect.

“Hey,” he says, his voice warm and easy, though there’s a slight hint of nervousness in his eyes as he holds out his hand. In it, he’s holding a small bouquet of white daisies. The simplicity of the gesture has your heart swelling.

“Hi,” you reply, your smile spreading across your face as you take the flowers from him. “They’re lovely, Bucky. Thank you.”

His expression softens as he watches you, and a small blush tints his cheeks. He steps back slightly, glancing toward his car parked on the curb. “Ready to go?”

You nod, feeling your heart flutter a little as you step outside, the cool evening air brushing against your skin. The night feels alive with possibility, and as Bucky opens the passenger door for you, you slide into the seat with anticipation, your nerves buzzing. The butterflies in your stomach don’t seem to quiet down as you settle into the car.

Bucky slides into the driver’s seat beside you, his hands gripping the wheel for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. You both fall into a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the road and the low music from the radio filling the space between you. The air feels easy, though you can sense a shared nervousness underneath it all. Neither of you speaks for a few moments, but the silence is pleasant.

After a beat, Bucky clears his throat, his voice a little rough as he glances over at you, his hand adjusting the steering wheel slightly. “You look, uh—really beautiful.”

The compliment catches you off guard, but in the best way. Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a slight flush spread across your cheeks. You meet his eyes for a brief moment, your smile soft and sincere. “Thank you. You look very handsome tonight too.”

At your words, Bucky visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping a little as if he’s relieved. His lips twitch upward in a shy smile, but there's a quiet warmth in his eyes that makes your chest tighten in the best way. The drive continues, but now there’s an added sense of comfort, like the space between you both is slowly closing, becoming more intimate with each passing second.

“You know,” Bucky says after a while, keeping his eyes on the road, “I’m really glad we’re doing this. I’ve been... kind of nervous, actually. But in a good way, you know?”

You smile, your eyes drifting back to the road as you consider his words. “I get it,” you say softly. “I’ve been nervous too. But I’m glad we’re finally here.”

The tension that lingers between you both starts to fade with each passing mile, and the drive feels easier, more natural. Bucky doesn’t seem quite as tense now, and the silence between you becomes less heavy, replaced with small talk and laughter.

When you finally reach your destination, Bucky parks the car near a secluded spot. It’s a quiet overlook on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by tall trees and the soft sound of wind through the leaves. The view is stunning—the sprawling city lights twinkling in the distance, the stars just beginning to pierce the night sky. It’s peaceful, private, and you immediately feel a sense of calm wash over you.

“You wanna head up?” Bucky asks, motioning to the small path that leads up to the overlook. “I, uh, packed a little something. Thought we could hang out up there.”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, trying to act casual, but your heart’s racing as you follow him up the path. You try to ignore how nervous you feel, focusing on the quiet hum of the world around you, the rustling of leaves in the wind, and Bucky’s presence next to you.

When you reach the top, you see that Bucky has set up a small blanket on the ground, with a basket beside it. There are candles in mason jars lining the edges, casting a warm glow on the area around you. It feels cozy, intimate, and it’s clear that Bucky’s put a lot of thought into this.

“I wanted to make it special,” he says, looking a little shy as he sits down on the blanket. “I don’t really know how to do dates like this, but I thought maybe a quiet place would be... nice.”

You sit down beside him, your fingers brushing against his briefly, and you can’t help but smile at how sweet this all is. "I love it, Bucky. It’s perfect."

The two of you fall into a natural silence for a moment, both of you unsure what to say next, but the quiet is comfortable. The only sounds are the occasional rustle of the trees and the soft hum of the city below.

“So...” you start, glancing over at him. “How’s, uh... how’s everything been for you lately?”

Bucky takes a deep breath, looking out over the city, his voice thoughtful. “It’s been... different. In a good way, I think. I’ve gotten used to the quiet in my life, but sometimes it feels like I’m missing something. Like I’m waiting for something, you know?”

You nod, understanding more than you expected. “I get that. I think sometimes, when life gets a little too quiet, you start wondering if something’s missing. Like... maybe you need to take a chance on something, even if it feels a little scary.”

Bucky’s gaze shifts toward you, his expression softening. “Yeah,” he agrees quietly. “That’s kind of how I feel right now. Taking chances. But with you... with Elizabeth, it feels different. It feels right.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. You feel the connection between the two of you deepening, a quiet understanding that neither of you has quite been able to put into words.

For the next hour or so, you talk about everything and nothing—your pasts, your dreams, the things that scare you, and the things that make you feel alive. There’s an ease between you now, a comfort that grows with each passing minute. You talk about your favorite books, childhood memories, and what you hope for in the future. Bucky shares stories of his time in the army, of the people he’s loved and lost, and there’s a quiet vulnerability in his voice that makes your heart ache for him.

“So,” you start, breaking the silence with a small smile, “what’s one thing I’d never guess about you?”

Bucky thinks for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “Hmm... I don’t know. I guess people always think I’m just a tough guy, you know? Like, I don’t know, all muscles and no heart.” He chuckles softly, the sound warm, but there’s a touch of vulnerability beneath it. “But I’m not like that. I can be... sentimental. I keep things, little reminders of people or moments that meant something.”

You nod, your smile softening as you listen. “I can definitely see that about you. I think we all hold onto things in different ways. I'm kind of a book hoarder. I’ve got shelves full of them.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Really? What’s your favorite genre?”

You shrug, thinking for a moment. “I guess mostly fiction. I love stories that take me to places I’ve never been, things I could only ever wish to experience myself.”

He leans forward slightly, genuinely intrigued. “I get that. Some days I wish I could escape into something else for a while.”

You look at him, sensing a deeper layer beneath his words. “Where would you go, if you could? Somewhere far away, I mean.”

He leans back, arms circling his legs, eyes distant for a moment, like he’s picturing it. “I think... maybe a quiet place. Somewhere with a view. Maybe a cabin in the woods or on a mountain. Somewhere peaceful. I’ve spent a lot of time in chaos, in places that were loud and demanding. I don’t think I realized how much I missed silence until I had some time away from it.”

There’s a softness in his voice as he talks, something that makes your chest ache just a little. “That sounds... really nice. I think we all need quiet sometimes.”

Bucky glances at you, a smile tugging at his lips. “What about you? Where would you go?”

You pause, your thoughts drifting. “I think I’d go somewhere similar. I’ve always loved nature and the coziness of rain. I’d like to go somewhere that gets cold but not too cold. I’d like to spend time dreaming up my own stories or just think.”

Bucky nods, seeming to understand. “That sounds good, too. Sometimes being alone with your thoughts is the best way to find clarity.”

You nod, the quiet between you settling comfortably again. After a moment, you break the silence, wanting to know more. “You mentioned before, in passing, that you were in the army along with Steve and Sam. What was that like?”

Bucky’s expression shifts, and you notice a subtle change in his posture. His shoulders tighten slightly, and he stares down at the ground for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “It was... a lot of things. Good and bad. You meet people who become your family, and you see things you wish you didn’t have to. But you learn a lot about yourself, too. What you're capable of when it really matters. But... you lose people along the way. Some of them were like brothers to me.”

His voice softens, and there’s a quiet ache in his words. “It’s hard to talk about sometimes. I don’t always know what to say.”

You’re silent for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle between you, but there’s no rush to fill the space. You don’t push him. Instead, you simply say, “I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.”

Bucky gives a small, quiet smile, his eyes distant again. “It’s not something you ever get over. You just learn to live with it, you know? Keep going, because that’s what they would have wanted.”

You nod slowly, absorbing his words. “I think that’s really brave. I don’t know if I could be that strong.”

Bucky meets your gaze, his eyes serious but with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. “You’d be surprised. Strength isn’t always about big things. Sometimes it’s the small moments, the ones that nobody else sees. Like... showing up for someone when they need you. Or just listening when they need to talk.”

Your heart swells at his words. You didn’t expect to find such depth in a conversation so early, but it feels easy, like you’ve both always been able to talk like this. You swallow, your voice quiet but sincere. “I’m glad you’re here, Bucky.”

His expression softens even further, and he leans forward slightly, his voice low. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence, but it’s different this time. There’s a deeper connection between you now, a shared understanding, as if you’ve both opened up in ways that most people never do. And it feels right—like this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Finally, Bucky clears his throat, breaking the silence with a small chuckle. “Sorry, I got a little heavy there. Didn’t mean to bring down the mood.”

You smile, shaking your head. “No, not at all. I like hearing about you. All of you.”

Bucky’s eyes twinkle, and he grins that soft, easy grin of his. “Well, I guess I’ll have to tell you more sometime, then.”

You laugh, the sound light and free between you. “I look forward to it.”

As the evening starts to wind down, you realize how much time has passed. The stars are fully out now, the city lights dimming beneath the vast sky. The two of you are sitting closer than before, your shoulders brushing every now and then, and you both seem reluctant to leave the spot.

“Do you wanna head back?” Bucky asks, his voice soft, though you can hear the hesitation in it. “I don’t want this to end yet, but I also don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

You smile, a little shy. “No, I’m good. I’m really glad we did this. It’s... it’s been nice.”

Bucky stands, offering his hand to help you up. “Well, I’ll take you home then. If you’re ready, that is.”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you say, slipping your hand into his as he helps you to your feet. You both make your way back to the car, neither of you speaking for a moment, just enjoying the peaceful quiet around you.

When you arrive at your apartment, Bucky parks the car in front of your building. “I had a really great time tonight,” he says, turning toward you with a soft smile. “Thank you for... you know, giving me a chance.”

You look up at him, your heart full. “I’m glad I did. I think we have something good here, Bucky.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both just look at each other, and before you can say anything else, you surprise yourself by offering, “Would you like to come inside? I could make us some tea.”

Bucky seems caught off guard for a second, then smiles softly. “I’d like that. I think I’d like that a lot.”

The two of you walk inside, and you get to work making the tea. The conversation flows easily between you, filled with laughter and small moments of silence, as the next couple hours slip by unnoticed. You talk about your favorite childhood memories, your first jobs, your biggest fears. Each topic somehow leads into the next, like you're both unraveling the little threads of who you are, but it doesn't feel rushed.

You laugh at something Bucky says, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear, and he catches the movement, his gaze softening for a moment.

“You know,” Bucky says, his voice a little quieter now, “I never thought I’d be here, doing this... with anyone. Not after everything.”

You glance at him, curiosity piqued. “Doing what?”

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “Just... talking like this. Being open. Letting someone in. I’ve spent so much time keeping people at arm's length. It’s easier, I guess, to just... not let anyone get too close.”

You feel your chest tighten, the words hitting you in a way you hadn’t expected. You lower your gaze, trying to hide the way your heart swells with sympathy and understanding.

“I think I get that,” you say softly. “I’ve kind of built my own walls over the years, too. Not because I didn’t want to let people in, but because... I don’t know. It’s easier to be alone sometimes.”

He looks at you, and for a long moment, neither of you speaks. It’s as if the weight of your shared vulnerability is lingering between you, hanging in the air.

Bucky leans forward just a little, his gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t want you to think that... I’m not interested in letting you in,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Because I am. I don’t know if it’s the right time or the right place, but I want you to know that I am.”

Your breath catches, heart pounding in your chest. There’s a rawness in his voice that makes the air between you feel thick, heavy with unspoken words. You hesitate for a moment, before speaking.

“I’m not going anywhere, Bucky.” Your voice is soft, but certain. “I’m here. I’ll always been here, just... sometimes I think I don't know how to say it.”

There’s a quiet, tender moment that passes between you. His lips part slightly, and he leans in just a fraction more, as if testing the space between you.

And that’s when the tension shifts, palpable now, crackling in the air. You both seem to feel it—a pull, something that draws you in, something that makes the moment stretch, and the space between you disappears. For a breathless second, everything else seems to vanish.

Your lips are so close now. His eyes flicker down to your mouth, then back up to meet your gaze, searching for permission, for a sign that you feel what he does.

You feel the warmth of his breath on your face, the closeness, and your pulse quickens. The intensity between you is almost too much, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you let it hang there, both of you caught in the moment.

And then, just as it feels like the gap might close between you, Bucky exhales sharply, pulling back slightly as if snapping out of it. He runs a hand through his hair, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Sorry,” he mutters, voice tight. “I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

You laugh softly, trying to ease the tension, though your heart is still racing. “It’s not weird, Bucky. It’s... nice.”

He looks at you for a long moment, his gaze searching yours again, a bit of uncertainty there. “I don’t want to rush anything,” he says, his voice steadying. “I just... I don’t know. I really like being with you.”

You nod, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I like being with you too.”

The tension in the air lingers for a while longer, but the moment passes, and you both settle back into the comfortable rhythm of conversation again. You talk about small things—silly anecdotes and favorite songs, and the connection you’ve built feels stronger now than it ever has before.

As the conversation winds down, your eyes begin to flutter, exhaustion finally catching up with you. You let out a soft yawn, leaning back against the couch. Bucky watches you, his eyes soft, but there’s something almost reluctant in his gaze.

“I should probably go,” he says quietly, standing up and stretching. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

You sit up, still a little drowsy. “You don’t have to leave,” you say, your voice a little more vulnerable than you intend. “I... I don’t want you to go.”

Bucky hesitates, his expression conflicted as he looks at you. “I... I don’t want to leave either,” he admits, his voice low. “But I don’t want to make things awkward either.”

You smile softly, trying to push the sleepiness from your eyes. “It’s not Bucky. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

After a long pause, he sits back down beside you, though his body is tense. He watches you closely for a moment before finally settling in. “Alright. I’ll stay. But just... just to keep you company. And because I don’t want you to be alone either.”

You feel a warm flush spread through you as you nestle deeper into the couch, the quiet between you comforting and safe. Bucky lies down beside you, careful not to get too close, but still there. You fall asleep, your head on his chest, and for the first time in a long while, you feel at peace.

Bucky lies awake beside you, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the thoughts that swirl in his mind. He doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to wake you, but the weight of his past—the nightmares, the fears—keeps him from fully resting. He stays awake, just listening to the sound of your breathing, hoping that his presence won’t disturb your sleep.

It’s the first time he’s ever felt this way with someone—so close, yet so distant, fighting the demons inside. He wonders, for just a moment, if he’s ready to let someone in completely.

Thanks for reading! Please reblog & comment <3 would love to hear how you enjoy it and feel free to send in requests!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #Bucky Barnes fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader fluff #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut

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gothamite-rambler · 2 days ago

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Dimensional Crossroads: Martha (Batfamily Chronicles Series)

Context: Portals from a mysterious source have been opening up around the world. Recently, Jason made the mistake of falling through one, along with a version of himself that didn’t die horribly. But it doesn’t stop there. In another dimension, Martha Wayne survived the robbery, while her husband and son fell victim to the mugger. In her world, her Robins are called Doves—comprised of Kate Kane, Beth Kane, Barbara Gordon, and Stephanie Brown. Martha has been through a lot: dealing with creepy stalkers, facing a Joker-like Selina Kyle, and burying her grief. Now, she and Bruce are about to be surprised to see each other, even if they aren’t their versions.

Batwoman, aka Martha Wayne, landed effortlessly from the portal above, her feet touching down silently. She smiled, feeling satisfied with her graceful entrance.

Batwoman!Martha (age unknown): I still got it.

She surveyed her unfamiliar surroundings, taken aback by the array of heroes and villains that surrounded her, but she steeled her focus.

Batwoman!Martha: Hm, Giovanni mentioned I’d land in places different from my own. But this place is really something… a gender-swapped version of my world?

She groaned after using that word, realizing it was a term Barbara had recently become obsessed with as she delved into fan culture. Barbara had been sharing all sorts of things with her, and "gender swap" popped up frequently in those discussions.

Batwoman!Martha: I’ve been around Barbara for too long if I’m referencing her.

With a sigh, Batwoman retrieved a device given to her by her version of Oracle, designed for navigating these dimensions. It blinked with data about her new environment.

Batwoman!Martha (fascinated): Huh, I was somewhat right. This place has a… Batman? Where is he? I hope he’s not my husband, driven mad by some dark fate… I can’t deal with that again.

As she hummed to herself, Batwoman wandered through the chaos until she spotted a man in a blue-and-black spandex suit and a young blonde woman in a purple spandex outfit. She then stepped forward to the figure of Batman, who was assessing the pandemonium before him. She tapped his shoulder gently.

Batman turned around and saw the strange woman in a batsuit that closely resembled his own.

Batwoman!Martha: Oh my... God.

Martha instinctively covered her mouth in shock. Behind the cowl and suit, she recognized him—her Bruce, now all grown up.

Batwoman!Martha (whispering): You’re here and… alive?

Batman (monotone): I’m assuming I died in your dimension. Are you my cousin, Kate? If so, I hope you’re not as aggravating. And please, don’t be a stalker.

Martha sniffled as her tough exterior began to crumble, and she pulled him into a warm embrace. Nightwing and Spoiler exchanged shocked glances, concern etched on their faces. Batman, on the other hand, was bewildered by the sudden hug.

Batman: Ma’am, whoever you are, let go.

Spoiler (shouting): Yeah, he’s not a hugger!

Batman (annoyed): Spoiler!

Spoiler (shrugging): You’re not!

Martha’s eyes widened in realization, and she quickly pulled away, embarrassed by how she must have looked to these strangers... with the exception of Bruce.

Batwoman!Martha: Oh dear, sorry! I’m making assumptions, young man.

Batman (in his 40s): Young man?

Nightwing: Ha, he's old as hell!

Batman groaned, covering his eyes in annoyance. Batwoman, still in shock, could only smile at the potential adult version of her son. She had so many questions but knew she couldn't reveal them in a public area where people were running around in a frenzy.

Batwoman!Martha: I mean, uh… adult man. You are an adult man! Tax filing age. Nice suit, very well made. It’s loud here. How about you and I—just us—head to your Batcave to discuss all this?

Batman (suspicious): Um, sure, but in a few minutes. I need to handle this situation first before it escalates.

Batwoman!Martha: Oh, right! I almost forgot the intensity of what we’re facing. I admire your focus on the task at hand. Mind if I lend a hand?

Batman (confused): Sure. If you’re a version of me, I assume you’re a hero.

Batwoman!Martha (pulling out a sleek red and black gun): All right! Let me get my proper weapon—Batgun. Who should I aim for?

Batman swiped the gun from her grasp, walking away while gesturing for Martha to follow.

Batman: I don’t know what the rules are in your dimension, but here, I don’t use guns and I don’t kill. I hope you can respect that while you’re here.

Batwoman!Martha: Oh, of course... of course.

Batwoman!Martha (in her head): Poor Brucie must have been traumatized after losing… me. Is Thomas alive? I’ll ask about him later. For now, I can fight alongside my son!

Batwoman!Martha (speaking out loud): Lead the way, sonny, and we can catch up afterward.

Batman (finding her odd): Honestly, you’re very strange to me right now and I'm not sure what catching up means in this context.

Batwoman!Martha: Oh, don’t worry! You’ll understand at the Batcave.

Batman rolled his eyes, still unaware of the true identity of this version of Batwoman. All he wanted was to resolve the chaos of the night.

To be continued...

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orleans-jester · 3 days ago

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“It’s totally fine, love,” Thomas said, keeping close to Valerie as they started to walk into the night. Going down the mountainside. It was more chilly out here than expected, and unknown to them, it was Elsa on the other side towards the beach, creating something beautiful for Bastien’s and Maddy’s eyes. “Being here makes me want to take you back to our old home too.”

He loved their new house, obviously. It was entirely theirs. No Cinderella. No Jetsam either, other than the small hints of him that were here and there, mostly in Scout’s room. The twins were grown up and with their own houses, so there were pieces of them too but not as big as there had been in the house that they had grown up in. But he did still like the original house, because it was there that he had met Valerie for the first time, where he had seen her all dolled up and performing an Amy Winehouse song, and where he fell in love with Flotsam, and where they planned a war on goddamn Star People and WON. There were a lot of good memories associated there.

He was just thinking about taking off his jacket and putting it around Valerie’s shoulders, give her that extra warmth, maybe even offer to carry her down the mountain with those high heels that she was wearing, when something, or rather, someone, seemed to capture her attention.

Eeyore - now that was a name that he hadn’t heard in quite some time.

His own blue eyes settled on his former pan-pal. They had seen each other a couple of times in person since those letters all that time ago. He still had a few, he thought, tucked away into one of the boxes of sentimental things that he had brought from NOLA during the move over to New Zealand. They weren’t the rough kind of sentimental. He hadn’t had a falling out with the guy.

He lifted up a friendly hand up to Eeyore, a boyish grin on his own face. “Hello, my writing friend. Nice to see you.”

He really hadn’t thought too much about Eeyore in the past couple of years, he was loathe to admit. Hadn’t really thought about where he might have ended up. He knew that the boy was close with Cinderella, and probably had been grieving her loss but… well, not much other than that. He felt a bit bad about it. Of course the poor boy was deceased, but he did look happier now than he had ever seen him. That counted for something, right?

Oh. Poor boy. Poor, poor boy. Didn’t even realize what he was. Without asking Valerie, he was following her line of thought. It was probably better not to push that point.

He gave a little chuckle at Valerie’s cover. “Thomases can’t fly either,” He added. “Though with this lovely lady by my side, sometimes it feels like anything is possible.”

He put his arm around his wife, pulling her in closer, and kissed her cheek as he says this, and then notices her chill. Without a word, he pulls off his jacket and settles it around her shoulders, able to take that bit of a chill. “There you go, love. Let’s get you to the inn and we can…” He raised his eyebrows. “Warm up together.”

Valerie knew Dug would have always led Thomas back. She believed in that. Flotsam had the master plan. She gave Dug all the credit, but she wouldn't mind giving River some too.

Valerie loved how Thomas and she were in sync tonight. "Yeah, I like that. Best kids. All of them." She was grinning to herself with the term wolf-mauled still in her head. Everything was keeping a smile on her face tonight.

Valerie felt close enough to Geppeto just by proximity. Their lives were entwined by the people she cared for. Parents knew of parents. At least it usually worked that way if one was an involved parent anyhow. They knew of Geppeto after all they the visits. Parenting worked that way even if they were probably in Flotsam form when they'd met before and were possibly confusing them here.

She was pleased with Figaro's reaction. It seemed they took it in and understood the impression would last.

Thomas even gave Chess an extra safety measure which helped ease Valerie's thoughts. It made her admire her man all the more.

As they were headed out she'd be reminded they couldn't actually drive home since they were in Feral. It made her laugh. Blame it on the alcohol.

"Oh, my bad. That works. It feels like forever." She was smiling because The Inn sounded fun like more memories come back to life. Feral had heart beats of Nola left in it, just the good ones. "We'll get tomorrow's bus out. Chess can come back there too. It's all no big deal at-" She was rambling away as they walked down the lengthy castle pathways to head out and down the mountain when she felt the breeze from the doorway. It was a draft she wasn't expecting on her bare shoulders.

But, before they'd reach the large exit as she shivered she noticed a face on the way out she hadn't throughout the entire party.

She had to do a double take. No one had noticed him so far.

"Eeyore?" Valerie would probably have to introduce herself to this one. He never knew her this way, only Flotsam. But, Valerie sure knew Eeyore. It was a ghost that Bastien would run to if he noticed. Thomas knew the guy and had a little friendship with him once upon a time, but Valerie? It was a surreal moment because of their history.

"Yes? Thanks for noticing me?" He'd say back unsure of who Valerie was. Maybe it was a good thing? Eeyore was always a little scared of Flotsam because of all the stuff that went on with Cinderella.

He tried to be Cinderella's moral support when their toxic relationship was stir crazy. Eeyore was always waiting for it to fall apart wishing he could swoop in and it never did. He finally moved on to Piglet. Flotsam understood very well that Eeyore was in love with Cinderella long before he ever married her. He's one of the few friends he allowed in Cinderella's life that never fucked up. He was waiting for it, dying for him to mess up. Just give him a reason. But now? Valerie could only think how amazing it was he survived him and ended up dying by another's hands. It meant he was a good one. He didn't cross any lines. Hell, if he wasn't a ghost he'd almost want to shake his hand and be cool with him now. It's like the bully respecting the guy who takes it. Eeyore made it through smelling like roses.

It was probably a weird thought as they stared that Eeyore was probably more Cinderella's speed and the girl really should have gone with him. Guess Eeyore dodged a bullet. That was Valerie's next thought as he watched him smile. Eeyore smiled, but they were emo smiles. It was hard not to find it cute in it's way and Valerie didn't want to see it's light put out.

As a matter of fact as the guy's eyes started to light up at the sight of Thomas something felt oddly relaxing. It was her husband that brought that cuteness back to the donkey boy's otherwise bored face just moments before. They were used to him wincing at their presence, Flotsam's presence.

"My pen pal. Thomas."

That's who Thomas would forever be to Eeyore. His pen pal. A lonely lost boy who got a letter was ever grateful. Valerie could look at Eeyore now and see his spouse's pen pal friend too. What a small world.

The fun part about being Valerie right now in front of Eeyore was she knew they weren't intimidating him like they always had before as Flotsam. She smiled as Thomas would make whatever conversation he would. It wouldn't matter what was exchanged. To feel such a contradiction in feelings from the past, more being written over she didn't even know was still hidden in chapters in the back of her mind, rewritten, all feelings overjoyed. She could stand next to her spouse next to Eeyore and just think cute kid and enjoy how her husband lit up the hearts of so many people, but she got to go home with him. It was such a good feeling. She really liked connecting her memories back to being a kid with the lost boys, the one that couldn't fly. They did have their own history before girls got involved. Valerie was trying to keep her inner giggle to herself.

Then she wondered if she should take her opportunity to ask Eeyore something. It was killing her inside and wasn't sure if it was impolite, but the Flo in her could not stop herself.

"Can you fly? As a ghost? All ghosts can float around some. Surely, you can fly now, right?"

The question took Eeyore off since they had no idea this person knew who they were that intimately. Maybe Thomas told them?

He'd shrug like it was no big deal. "Nope. I guess Eeyores aren't meant to fly. I don't know what you mean by ghost though. It's pronounced Lost Boy."

That answered a big question to Valerie. He really was a ghost. Stuck. He couldn't be dead-dead, just dead. Only a ghost stuck in their life's problems would still have those same problems. She wasn't going to push the word ghost on him again. She was starting to realize fast he was one of those that didn't realize he was dead. How would he? No one ever noticed him anyway.

She smiled back and forth to Thomas. "Don't worry. Valeries can't fly either. Just my heart when this guy looks at me just right." She joked diffusing it giving Thomas a little silly nudge before looking at the door and rubbing her arms as she felt that chill.

Even Eeyore laughed.

Valerie was getting her sights on that Inn though no idea that chill was coming from another unexpected sight out those doors. Even with that chill her heart was so warm. She couldn't stop smiling at every single event that happened this evening. She curled into Thomas trying to keep her body warm though.

#ThomasxValerie #ThomasxEeyore

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darkfantasysworld · 3 days ago

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First MtF monster post on this blog. I genuinely don't know what I was thinking when I came up with this idea. This post is also not really gender specific, reader just has a cunt & womb.

Female or FtM reader x MtF!drider

You'd heard about driders, basically spider centaur creatures, but you didn't think you'd fall in love with one. You'd been talking to someone you assumed was a regular human for a few weeks, she always had an excuse for not going out but you assumed that maybe she was just shy in person. You couldn't have been more wrong since now you were looking up at the 8'4 woman with the lower half of a giant spider. Her hair was black with a red streak and went down to her waist, her eyes were also red… from what you could tell anyways. Her skin was dark brown with the skin on her waist fading to black to match her spider half. "You're so small.. I think we'll have fun.." She said, her voice was low and seductive. She lowered herself a bit and reached out, caressing your cheek with her hand, her nails were sharp and painted an almost blood red color. You decided to just go on with this date, she was nice while you were texting so you decided to give it a shot. You were sitting down across from the drider, you at least knew she was trans and on hormones, you couldn't help but look at her chest, it was rather large, possibly C or D cups. "What can I get you?" The waiter asked, holding a notepad and pen. "A bottle of your most expensive red wine," She looked at you as she spoke before turning back to the waiter "and I'll have the steak, medium rare, with roast potatoes." She said, eyeing the waiter's hand as he wrote it down before the two turned their attention to you. You told the waiter your order and watched him walk away then looked at the drider. "Is your name actually S—" she cut you off. "Yes, my name is Salem, I didn't lie to you, you just never asked what I am." She responded, reaching across the table and gently grabbing your hand. You could see her muscles and realized how gentle her touch was, her hands felt so soft.. The waiter brought you two the bottle of wine and two glasses before pouring a little in each glass and leaving, setting the bottle between your glasses. Salem moved her hands away from yours and took a sip of her wine. You grabbed your glass and took a sip of your wine as well, noting the… odd flavor. "This doesn't taste right." You looked at Salem who gave you a small smile. "It's supposed to have a tangy note." Salem responded and turned the bottle so you could see the label. "Spider venom…?" You said, confusion in your tone as you read the label. "Small doses help make you slightly immune.. in case I bite." Salem gave you a wink and reached over to gently caress your cheek. You leaned into her touch, wanting more, her skin was so soft.

You and Salem ended up going to a bar after the restaurant and she paid for everything… from what you remember. Your eyes fluttered open, you were moaning as you felt something long and thick push into you, your pussy dripping. Your vision was blurry as you looked around the dark room, concrete walls surrounded you. Your eyes widened and you let out a yelp as you felt the pleasurable object push into your cervix, the tip forced it to stretch and you felt objects move through the shaft and poured into your womb. You felt a bump form in your stomach but for some reason you couldn't move. "That's it.. let my eggs into your pretty little womb.." Salem whispered into your ear, you felt your stomach grow for what felt like hours before you felt Salem begin to pull out. "Wha'd ya do ta me…?" You asked, your words slurred so much you barely knew what you said. Salem didn't respond and just began thrusting her cock into you, your body was practically inviting her large cock, so warm, wet, and tight. Salem softly moaned into your ear as she raped you, her thrusts were slow and gentle, she didn't want to hurt you.

You moaned and whimpered, your body overstimulated as she came in you for the tenth time, she had to make sure her eggs were properly fertilized. Your eyes fell shut as you passed out only to wake up who knows how long later, you felt the eggs moving then, suddenly, you felt one break and your natural instincts kicked in, you pushed, screaming in pain as the baby drider came out, you couldn't even grab the baby you birthed before you felt more eggs breaking, forcing you push out at least two more babies in a row, thankfully they seemed to know how to move and crawled away from your stretched pussy so more could come out. You passed out after the tenth one only to wake up to Salem laying more eggs in your womb, you didn't know where the babies went and you tried to push her off but you were too weak. You remembered why you disliked driders, they used humans as incubators until one of them died.. at least Salem was being gentle.

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brainddeadd · 10 hours ago

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matt rempe and a hughes sister….. so much potential for so many ideas…..

Caught Between Red and Blue

Reader is Quinn and Jack Hughes' little sister and Luke Hughes' twin sister. Quinn knows about the relationship before the other brothers.

Y/N’s phone buzzed with a message just as she slipped into her usual seat at Prudential Center, right behind the Devils' bench. She glanced around quickly, making sure neither Jack nor Luke had eyes on her before checking it.

Matt: Meet me by the Zamboni tunnel after warm-ups? Just for a minute.

Her stomach did a familiar flip. She hadn’t seen Matt in nearly two weeks, and despite the thrill of sneaking around, the secrecy weighed on her sometimes. Especially knowing how Jack and Luke would react. They were fiercely protective—particularly Jack, who’d probably see dating a Ranger as some kind of betrayal.

She sent a quick reply, confirming she’d meet him, and settled in to watch warm-ups. A few minutes later, Quinn’s face popped up on her phone screen, and she quickly accepted the call, already grinning.

“Hey, Quinn!”

“Hey, little sis. You ready for the game?” he asked, his familiar smile appearing even through the small screen. “Or… distracted?”

“Who says I’m distracted?” she replied with a smirk, trying to play it cool.

“Oh, maybe the way you keep looking at your phone? Look, Y/N, you’re not exactly a spy. If I noticed, Jack and Luke might, too.” Quinn’s voice softened. “Just tell them, Y/N. They’ll freak out, sure, but it’ll be better than them finding out on their own.”

She sighed, glancing down at her hands. “I know you’re right… I’m just not sure how to tell them I’m dating a Ranger.”

“Just rip the band-aid off,” he said, a smile in his voice. “And tell Matt good luck tonight.”

Her cheeks warmed, and she quickly muttered a thanks before ending the call. A few minutes later, she slipped out of her seat and walked down the hallway, nerves fluttering as she made her way to the Zamboni tunnel.

She spotted Matt leaning casually against the wall, and his face lit up as she approached. “Hey, you,” he said softly, his hand reaching out to catch hers. “Been too long.”

“Way too long,” she whispered, squeezing his hand and glancing around to make sure they were alone. “You know, you’re playing a risky game by asking me to meet you here.”

He shrugged, his blue eyes warm. “I like living on the edge. Plus, it’s worth it.”

Before she could respond, she heard a voice from behind her—a voice she knew all too well.

“Y/N?”

She spun around to see Jack standing there, his eyes narrowing as they flicked between her and Matt.

“Oh… hey, Jack.” She forced a smile, feeling Matt’s hand tense in hers.

“Hey?” Jack echoed, crossing his arms. “So this is why you’ve been so secretive?”

Y/N swallowed, forcing herself to meet Jack’s gaze. “Jack… this is Matt. We’ve… we’ve been dating for a while now.”

Jack’s face hardened as he looked at Matt. “A Ranger? Really?”

Matt, to his credit, held his ground. “Nice to officially meet you, Jack.”

Jack scoffed. “I’m sure it is.” He turned back to Y/N, a mix of surprise and irritation on his face. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I knew you’d react like this!” she said, frustration flaring. “Jack, he makes me happy. Can you just try to understand?”

After a long pause, Jack sighed, his expression softening slightly. “Fine. But you’re still a Devils fan, right?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing despite herself. “Always.”

Jack gave Matt one last glare before heading back to the locker room, muttering under his breath about “traitors.”

Matt squeezed her hand, chuckling softly. “Well, that went better than I expected.”

“Just wait until Luke finds out,” she said, smiling up at him, and for the first time in weeks, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

#matt rempe x reader #° braindead writes

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luxcuriousao3 · 2 days ago

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Dove: A Zombie Ghost Story (Chapter Four)

Summary: “I wonder what color your eyes were…” Ghost wanted to tell her they were brown like hers, but darker. Hers were the type that shone golden in the light, like nutty chocolate and a perfectly brewed cuppa. His were the color of pitch, of the damp, overturned earth of a fresh grave. Fitting, for a man like him. For a monster like him. Word Count: 3176 Warnings: still no smut, triple asterisk denotes a POV change as usual Notes: Happy birthday @kaya-nets ! Here is a surprise midweek update as a little gift, and a thank you for being the first person on tumblr to leave feedback on Dove! It is greatly appreciated, especially since I had a hard today. I hope you had a great birthday! AO3, Masterlist

“It’s nice to meet you, Simon.”

Ghost was sure no word had ever sounded so beautiful. To hear someone calling him by his name again, after all this time, was… he had no words to describe it. If he were religious, he might’ve called it a come-to-God moment. But his dog tags said No Preference for a reason, and that reason was that Ghost had stopped believing in a higher power a long time ago.

As he looked at his little dove, holding his tags and giving him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen, he thought that maybe he’d finally found one he’d happily worship.

He groaned softly, trying to say hello back, and then gestured at her, cocking his head to the side in question.

“What is it?” She asked. He pointed at his dog tags again, then at her once more. Her brows furrowed in confusion, and he grunted, like that would help her understand what he was asking. Maybe it did, or maybe she just remembered how first meetings were typically supposed to go, because her brows went up this time and her pink lips parted, a rosy blush darkening her cheeks. “Oh! Oh, my name, of course. I’m Lelia Par—Addams. Lelia Addams.”

Ghost caught the slip, and the mix of panic and sadness that flashed through her eyes at it. He couldn’t exactly press even if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He had no desire to see his dove upset.

He tried to say her name, despite knowing it was useless. But it was just so pretty. Lelia. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

That was one of Johnny’s favorite chat up lines, Simon’s voice in his head said distantly, sounding both exasperated and wistful. Ghost ignored it. He didn't know who Johnny was and no amount of trying to force his ruined mind to cough up the memory of him would work. But staying in his dove’s presence, might. She was the reason he’d remembered the name at all.

“Thank you for saving me, by the way,” Lelia said a moment later, handing him his dog tags back. She still looked faintly embarrassed. “Both times… I— I would be dead without you. I suppose not all soldiers are bad…”

Ghost knew that if she were aware of all he’d done, both before and after he’d turned, she wouldn’t think so highly of him. Nonetheless, he would very much have liked to find whichever soldiers made Lelia decide she was better off out here on her own, instead of back on a base, safe and warm and fed. He thought about the way her eyes had looked broken and glassy as she’d spoken about the place she’d come from, and how she’d insisted she’d rather be ripped apart than go back, not a trace of exaggeration in her voice. Whatever had happened to her there must have been hellish.

Ghost wanted to move forward to comfort her, but he’d seen the way she’d gagged and grimaced when he got close to retrieve his tags, slipping them over his head once more. He knew that he smelled something awful, that he always would no matter what he did, but he would at least try to clean himself, for her sake. She couldn’t afford to lose the little food she’d eaten.

There was a stream not far from here, he’d been near it yesterday before he’d decided to investigate all the noise. And he was fast, faster than he had been when he was human. He could be there and back in half an hour, tops.

Lelia, on the other hand, barely looked like she could make it to the front door.

He was incredibly reluctant to let her out of his sight for any length of time. Even just going around to the back of the cabin to dispose of the body earlier had made him twitchy. And if it was just a matter of his smell, he’d wait until tomorrow, when she was rested enough to make the trip with him. But it wasn’t. He could see just how dehydrated she was—chapped lips, dry skin, a constant tremor in her hands… she needed clean drinking water, now. And if he could get some from the stream for her to boil, she would be set.

He would have barricaded the door for extra protection, but it opened outwards rather than in. Shoddy installation job if he’d ever seen one. So instead, he pointed at her, and then at the bedroom. He awkwardly put his hands under his ear and then closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. He bumped his broken jaw as he did, and his teeth clacked against each other loudly.

He heard a little giggle, soft and high pitched. He opened his cloudy eyes to see his dove watching him, a pretty smile on her cherubic face. Her laugh was beautiful, pure and sweet. It was the most wonderful sound he’d ever heard. The sunken skin around his eyes crinkled a little bit, the only evidence of his smile.

“Fine, fine, I’ll go take a nap,” Lelia said, still giggling, as she headed for the bedroom. She disappeared inside, the door closing behind her. He waited until he heard her heartbeat slow and her breaths grow steady, and then he quietly moved the couch in front of it, blocking her in. He didn't want to risk her waking up, finding him gone, and getting herself killed while looking for him. If she decided to look for him. She might not—just because she asked his name and gave him a sweet smile didn’t mean she cared about him, the undead soldier who’d inserted himself into her life and wouldn’t leave her alone. That was alright, though. Ghost was so starved for human interaction that he’d take whatever he could get. And hearing his name from her lips was more than he’d ever expected.

Even if it was less than what he wanted.

With his dove secure, he left the cabin, making sure he didn't hear anyone nearby. There were a few infected a ways away, but if she stayed put—which he’d made sure she would—they wouldn't smell her. He was more worried about other people, but he couldn’t smell or hear anyone within range, so he felt comfortable enough to leave. Barely. He grabbed the large, rusted pail he’d noticed behind the cabin where he’d dumped the other zombie’s body, and then he was off.

-*-

When Ghost saw his reflection in the stream, he understood why Lelia had been so terrified to wake up and see his face first thing.

He’d known he looked bad, he wasn't an idiot. Just because his eyes were clouded didn't mean his vision was. He could see how disgusting the other zombies looked, and he figured he looked much the same.

None of that had prepared him for actually seeing himself.

Blood and gore covered every inch of him, bits of flesh stuck between his teeth and blackened gums—his teeth, which were permanently bared in a snarl, because his lips had rotted away.

That was the most horrifying part, he thought. Not the grey, sunken skin, the milky eyes, or all the gore and viscera. It was that his lips were gone, and he couldn’t kiss his dove even if she’d let him.

You’re disgusting.

The words echoed in his head, and he knew it wasn’t just about his visage. He shouldn't have been thinking about his dove like that. It wasn't as bad as his earlier thoughts, but just about. He was dead. A nasty, rotting corpse that happened to be able to walk around. There was something wrong with him to even be contemplating doing more than hugging Lelia. That was bad enough. She’d never want him to touch her in any way, she’d shown him that earlier when she’d kicked him while he was trying to check her for bites.

But maybe she would let him get a little closer, at least, if he didn't smell so bloody horrid.

It was that possibility that had him methodically strip out of his ragged tactical gear. He washed each piece in the knee-deep stream, even his mask and his boots. He laid them out on the bank to dry, moved a little further upstream, and then repeated the process with his body, dumping bucket after bucket full of water over every part of him.

The amount of congealed black blood and pieces of flesh that came off was concerning. He just hoped that none of the latter was his own.

Finally, he was done, and he stepped out of the stream and redressed in his still damp gear. Moving upstream for a third time, unwilling to contaminate his dove’s drinking water, he filled the bucket once more and began his trek back to the cabin, moving briskly but carefully so as not to spill.

Lelia was still asleep by the time he returned, and so he put the bucket down on the kitchen table, moved the couch away from her door, and then set about starting a fire. There was a small stack of roughly chopped logs next to the old, wood burning stove, and he placed a few inside. He searched through some of the drawers and found a book of matches, letting out a triumphant grunt, unable to believe his luck.

Except of course, things couldn’t be that easy.

Ghost’s fingers were far too stiff and clumsy to light a match. Fine motor skills were difficult for him, his muscles permanently locked in rigor mortis. Even piling up the logs in the stove had been difficult, as had carrying the bucket. He’d had to wrap his arms around it and hold it to his chest because his fingers wouldn't quite bend enough to grasp it by the handle.

After finally getting one of the matches to light, only to immediately drop it on the floor and burn a mark into the wood, Ghost gave up. He would just have to let Lelia do this part.

He moved the bucket onto the stovetop before quietly walking over to the bedroom. He reached out for the door knob and hesitated for a long moment, before letting his hand drop as he turned back around. She’d closed it for a reason, and he didn't need to see her to know she was alright. Her heartbeat and breathing were loud enough. So instead, he resumed his position as her zombified guard dog, and barricaded her door with his body while she slept, standing between her and anything that could bring her harm.

***

This time, when Lelia woke up, she knew exactly where she was.

The tiny bed in the cabin smelled of dust and old mothballs, but it was still far more comfortable than either a tree hollow or the bed she'd shared with Andrew back on the military base. She let herself luxuriate in it for a moment, exhaustion still pulling heavily at her no matter how long she had slept. Finally, she got up, walking over to the door and opening it—only to startle when she found Simon standing directly outside.

“Oh!” She gasped, hand clutching her chest, right over her racing heart. Then, she registered the lack of blood and gore on his face—which looked far less decayed now that it was clean—and the lack of a stomach churning odor wafting over her. He still smelled of death, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been before. “You’re— you’re clean!”

Simon groaned quietly. He was staring at her, as if waiting for something. She blinked several times, and then spoke again.

“Did you— did you do that for me?”

She knew she hadn’t hid her reaction to his stench well enough. She felt a bit bad, but she also couldn’t help but be relieved he'd noticed and decided to do something about it.

Simon jerked his head up and down in a nod, jaw wobbling. He shifted back and forth a little bit, then tilted his head to the side and let out a questioning grunt, milky eyes downcast. He almost seemed… nervous? Shy? Or like he was looking for her approval. She couldn't quite tell. But the thought was endearing, and she smiled at him.

“Thank you,” she said earnestly. “This is much better, really. I appreciate it.”

Despite the fact that he couldn't really make any expression, Lelia got the distinct impression that he was pleased with her answer.

Simon shuffled back, and then stiffly gestured for her to follow him. She did so, curious, and she found she could remain quite close to him without being overwhelmed by the urge to vomit. She still left a meter or so between them, as was proper. She doubted he wanted her crowding his space, after all.

He led her over to the kitchenette, and then gestured to a bucket on top of the stove. She peered inside it, and found that it was full of water. She brightened considerably, licking her dry lips.

“Can I drink this?” She asked, already reaching for the bucket. She was so thirsty, she’d even drink orange juice, right now. And she hated orange juice.

But Simon grunted, reaching out and stopping her hand with his own. His glove was slightly damp, and she blinked, frowning as she looked at him again.

“You’re wet,” she said, finally noticing that his gear was dripping a little bit. He grunted, ignoring her, and then gestured at a matchbook next to the stove. She stared at it in confusion, not knowing what he wanted her to do, before turning her attention back to the trail of water he was leaving in his wake. “You shouldn't walk around in wet clothes. You’ll catch a cold—”

Lelia paused, looked at Simon’s already dead self, and blushed.

“Well. Maybe you won’t, but still. You’re getting water everywhere. You should take them off to let them dry,” she continued, trying to recover. Simon gave her what she thought might have been an amused look, if the little crinkles around his sunken, milky white eyes meant anything. Though it was entirely possible she was just imagining it. “There’s a closet in the bedroom. I’m sure I can find you something to wear while you wait.”

Eager to escape after her blunder, she retreated to do just that. She heard Simon let out a grumble that sounded suspiciously like an exasperated sigh, but she didn't let that stop her. She let out her own noise of victory when she found a set of flannel pajamas that looked like they would fit her zombie.

When she returned to the kitchen, Simon was in the process of removing his gear. Lelia watched as he struggled with zips and buckles—he was making progress, but very slowly—and took a step closer to him.

“Do you need help?” She asked innocently, never one to just stand idly by.

***

Simon froze, damnable buckle falling from his stiff fingers. It had taken him ages to get all this off and back on again at the stream, but he’d managed. He would manage again… but his little dove was offering to help. To stand close to him, to touch him, or at least his clothes… he knew he should have said no, that she was just being kind and didn’t actually want to get anywhere near him—but she sounded so sincere, and he was so fucking desperate. So he groaned quietly, almost ashamed, as he jerked his head in a nod, letting his hands drop back to his sides.

Lelia set the clothes she’d found for him on the arm of the couch and then approached, starting with removing his helmet. She was so small, she couldn’t reach even when she stood on her toes, and he had to crouch down a little bit, knees creaking.

“You’re blonde,” she said, surprised. He looked down at her. She was close enough that he couldn’t smell anything but her, and it was intoxicating. But not nearly as intoxicating as the feel of her body heat, so near yet so far. He sniffed discreetly, once again trying to place the floral scent on her skin. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t expect that. I wonder what color your eyes were…”

Ghost wanted to tell her they were brown like hers, but darker. Hers were the type that shone golden in the light, like nutty chocolate and a perfectly brewed cuppa. His were the color of pitch, of the damp, overturned earth of a fresh grave. Fitting, for a man like him. For a monster like him.

She moved on to unbuckling his vest, and then unzipping his jacket once he’d gotten the bulky gear out of the way. Underneath was a plain black t-shirt, the least destroyed item of clothing he had on, but also the foulest smelling. Her delicate little nose wrinkled slightly, and he would have found it adorable if he weren't so embarrassed. He reeked, still, and she smelt so delicious he began to drool again. He reached up to wipe it away, but his dove beat him to it, using the sleeve of the jacket he’d just discarded. She seemed entirely unphased, rather than repulsed like he thought she’d be, just giving him a smile before stepping back.

“No buttons on that,” she said as an explanation. He didn’t dare mention the buttons on his combat trousers, once again disgusted by his own thoughts. He pulled his t-shirt off after a second of hesitation, knowing the grisly sight that lay beneath. Grey, translucent, thinning skin smattered with deep gashes in several places that would never heal. They were accompanied by faded tattoos and dozens of scars, including a patchwork of rough, burnt flesh over his bicep and left shoulder, going all the way down to his hip. He reached quickly for the dry shirt, but Lelia stopped him.

“Your gloves,” she said, staring at his torso with a look on her face that he couldn’t quite read. It wasn't positive, though, he could tell that much. She tore her gaze away a second later, gently grabbing one of his hands and pulling it closer to her as she undid the velcro strap at his wrist. She slipped her fingers beneath the wrist of his glove, and he felt her skin directly against his own for the very first time.

He groaned, resisting the urge to grab her hand and keep it where it was. He couldn’t feel the softness of her skin, his own senses too numb for that, but the heat of it practically scorched him in the most pleasant way. It sank all the way down to his frozen bones, and when it slipped away as she pulled his glove off, it was agony.

She repeated the process with his other glove, and his bare hands twitched as he fought not to clutch onto hers and not let go. Finally, he regained control of himself, grabbing the flannel pajama shirt and pulling it on. It was a couple sizes too small, clinging to him like a second skin and stopping an inch or so above the waistband of his combat trousers, but it would do for now, even if he felt ridiculous.

“You’re shivering,” his dove said, frowning. “I’ll fetch you a blanket.”

She turned around and headed back into the bedroom, and he took the chance to shuck off his trousers. It was almost as if the warmth of her touch had reinvigorated his hands, or perhaps it was just luck, because he managed to get the button on the third try, and the zip on the second. He stepped into the too-small flannels just as she was returning with the quilt he’d given her earlier. He tried to avoid taking it—though he felt cold, he knew it was all in his mind—as he didn't want to contaminate it with the smell of death. But Lelia was stubborn, and she just wrapped the blanket around his shoulders for him, so he looked like he was wearing a flowery, quilted cape.

“There,” she said with a pleased smile, before bending down to pick up his gear and head over to the door. He followed her, a silent, massive, undead shadow, unwilling to let her go outside without him. He stood guard as she hung the clothes over the half-rotted wooden banister of the tiny porch, and when she came back in, he grunted to get her attention again before leading her back to the kitchenette. He tapped the matchbook, then pointed at the pile of firewood in the metal belly of the stove.

“You want me to start a fire?” She asked nervously, and he nodded, pointing at the logs again. She paled. “I don't know… I’ve never done that before. What if I burn myself?”

Ghost didn't like the thought of her getting hurt any more than she did, but they didn’t have a choice. She needed drinkable water, and right now, boiling what was in the bucket was the only way she was going to get that. So he fumbled for the book of matches and then pressed it into her hands—and if he let out another pleased groan when her warm skin touched his again, he hoped she misread it as encouragement.

His dove looked afraid, but she notched her chin and accepted the matches, clearly trying to put on a brave face. He let himself wonder at the fact that she had never used matches before. What kind of world had she lived in, prior to the end of it? Based on her nice clothes, posh accent, and utter lack of survival instincts, he imagined it was something privileged, something sheltered. He would’ve scoffed at the thought if he were still alive—pretty little rich girl with a pretty, perfect life. Had the dead not risen, she likely would have never known pain or fear or struggle. It would’ve angered him back then; the injustice of it all. The jealousy. Now, he just felt sad. She deserved a life like that. Not this hell on earth. She was woefully unprepared for her new reality—and she had suffered for it. The men she had had to rely on to keep her safe had put that haunted look in her eyes that spoke of a pain familiar to him, if unnamable. It bothered him that he couldn’t remember. That he couldn’t kill each and every person that had ever contributed to her suffering. But there was nothing he could do about that, now. All he could do was keep her safe, keep her alive. And maybe even make her laugh again.

It took a few tries, and several broken matches, but Lelia finally managed to get one lit without immediately dropping it in fear. She tossed it into the stove, and while Ghost would have advised her to hold it to the corner of one of the logs, first, it did the trick, and the fire caught. He gave her a groan of approval, and admired the way her face lit up with pride, a rosiness dusting her cheeks as she grinned. She was always beautiful, but when she smiled, she looked like an angel. Something far too good and far too pure for this hellish plane and all the monsters that lived on it, both alive and dead.

Together, they watched the water boil. It was about as exciting as watching paint dry, and took only slightly less time due to the old fashioned stove and small flame. He didn't mind, though, as his dove eventually began to fill the silence with mindless chatter, telling him about the meals her private chef—oh, so she’d been rich rich—used to make for her. Ghost was informed very seriously that Román was the best cook in the world and could have had his own restaurant, but he liked hearing Lelia’s in-depth analysis of his meals too much to leave. Ghost thought it was adorable that she believed that that’s why the chef had stayed, rather than the money he was making. Then again, Ghost had stayed because of her too, so maybe there was some truth to her words after all.

When the water was sufficiently clean, he grabbed the bucket and moved it off the stove so it could cool down. Curiously, he didn't feel any heat from it, despite knowing it had to be hot enough to burn. It only made him crave his dove’s touch even more, the only source of warmth in his cold, undead life.

He searched through the cupboards again as they waited, looking for some sort of cup. He found a single dusty mug with a large chip near the rim. It was no crystal champagne flute, like she was clearly used to, but it would do. He handed it over, and Lelia made a face but thanked him nonetheless. She unbuttoned her pink tweed jacket and untucked a section of her still clean white blouse underneath, using it to wipe out the mug. He stared.

Look away, Simon’s voice in his head ordered. Ghost reluctantly obeyed. You’re a vile creature. You don’t get to look at her like that.

Even if Ghost was alive, he'd probably think the same thing. He’d been old and monstrous then. He was dead and monstrous now. He'd never lived a life in which he would deserve a sweet thing like her. But he still wanted, in this life and the last.

So when Lelia smiled at him after drinking her fill of the purified water, lips still wet and shiny, he tried to ignore the phantom sensation of his undead heart pounding in his chest.

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dude-why-3 · 4 hours ago

Text

Who painted the sky?

Chapter 21: Stolen Goods

When she opens the front door fifteen minutes later, Annie finds Armin leaning by the camp van, trailer attached. He’s wearing his green hoodie, hands buried in its pockets, a smile plastered on his face. She suddenly feels extremely underdressed, the pair of shorts and white shirt she’s hurriedly thrown on doing nothing to keep her warm against the chill of the night. Annie narrows her eyes and Armin’s smile grows.

2.45am

Armin: u up?

Annie: no

Armin: lovely

Armin: do you trust me?

Annie: depends on the day

Armin: meet me outside in 15

Annie: what for?

Armin: just trust me!!

“What’s that?” She gestures towards the van and crosses her arms against her chest in an attempt to keep herself warm.

“A surprise,” Armin beams. He steps aside and opens the passenger door, holding it open for her. “Do you still trust me?”

Annie presses her lips together for a second, considering her possibilities. Then she sighs loudly. “My trust is thinning by the second,” she finally says.

Armin’s laugh pierces through her ears as she gets on the passenger seat and secures her seatbelt. Armin wastes no time in getting behind the wheel and starting the car.

“Did you even ask Hannah before taking her van?” Annie asks as they back out of the parking lot and onto the street.

Armin slowly stops and checks both left and right before continuing, though Annie’s pretty sure that’s a one way street anyway.

“I’ll bring it back by the morning, she won’t even notice it’s gone.”

Annie studies his features very closely. He keeps his eyes focused on the road, his brows slightly furrowed, his hands maneuvering the wheel with ease. And he drives so slowly, Annie can’t decide if he’s just being mindful of her or actually doesn’t usually go over thirty-five kilometers per hour.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?”

“If you ask nicely,” he teases, turning the radio on.

Instead of music, they’re met with the morning news read in such a monotone voice it could put them both to sleep. Armin turns it off again. Annie stares at him, her eyes narrowed, lips pressed together. She crosses her arms over her chest, not saying a word. She can see him tense up under her stare, he steals a tiny glance at her and she raises an eyebrow, demanding an explanation.

He looks back at the road, a smile slightly pulling on his lips. As if he were proud of this whole ordeal.

“We kind of stole the canoes,” he finally says, in such a casual tone that you’d think he does it on a daily basis.

Annie’s blood boils. “What?!”

“We’ll bring them back!” he defends.

“Armin, why would you steal the canoes? And at this hour!”

“I thought it’d be fun!”

“You thought stealing someone else’s property would be fun?!”

Armin laughs nervously. “Believe it or not, I actually have a plan.”

Annie raises an eyebrow at him. “Let’s hear your plan then.”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you–”

“Armin, I will kick you out and drive this car back to camp myself if you don’t tell me what we’re doing on the road, at three in the morning, with someone else’s canoes,” Annie threatens, in the most imposing voice she can master.

Armin sighs heavily. “I thought it’d be quite romantic to go canoeing at night and stargaze and, I don’t know, just spend time together.” He steals another glance at her., shrugging helplessly, his complexion pinking up. “And you seemed sad that you couldn’t come canoeing this week and missed out on all the fun, so I thought this might cheer you up.”

“And you thought involving theft would make it more fun?”

“Kinda?”

“I–” She finds nothing to say, her mouth agape as she stares at him in astonishment, yet her face is getting warmer by the second.

She covers her mouth with her palm, staring at him with big eyes, her chest growing warmer. Her lips arch up then, and she snorts at the idea of it all. Her giggles turn into a laugh, and she finds herself bending over and holding her stomach, not able to stop her laughing fit.

Armin steals a glance at her as she keeps laughing and nervously chuckles. “I’m not sure if I should be scared or laugh with you,” he admits.

Annie takes a deep breath in, trying to calm down her laughter. “Gosh, Armin, you’re so stupid, I love you.” Her voice sounds breathless, then she breaks into giggles again.

Armin‘s eyes widen. He remains quiet, his cheeks growing pink. He swallows the lump in his throat, allowing himself to sit with her words for a few seconds as she keeps chuckling. His lips unknowingly curve up at the sound, the oh so adorable sound.

“I love you, too,” he quietly says, eyes focused on the road.

He smoothly takes a turn to the left and enters a portion of the road that’s more lit, for he can see the trees on either side of the road more clearly now.

Annie’s laughter soon ceases. She wipes a tear from her eye, then turns to him with a big smile. “What was that?”

He’s almost disappointed that she didn’t hear– but maybe it’s for the better. He shakes his head as if to chase the thought away, pushing a little smile on. He clears his throat.

“I’ll put on some music.”

He fishes his phone out of his pocket, opens the music app and clicks on a song, then hands the phone to Annie. She connects it to the aux.

Low piano tunes start playing as he starts the car again, followed by a little harmonica solo, then Piano Man fills the car.

The two are quiet as the song follows its course, the car rolling down the empty road. Annie steals a glance at Armin, trying to read his mind, hoping he’d return her glance and find her eyes and smile at her, that sweet smile of his that always calms her nerves– but he doesn’t. He did so the whole ride as she was fishing for answers out of him, and now he’s so focused on the road he won’t spare her another look.

"The aux is all yours if you want to put anything on," Armin says.

Annie considers it for a moment.

"Sure," she mutters. "But my phone's almost dead."

"You can use mine."

"Is that okay?"

"Of course."

Annie smiles shortly and picks his phone up, already having a song in mind.

"The password is ema-eight-six-four."

Annie hums as she types it in. She's already on the music app when the phone unlocks.

"Who's Ema?" she asks, typing the song's name in the search bar.

Armin visibly tenses, his eyes growing wider, his jaw clenching. "It's not a name."

Annie raises a curious brow. She finds the song and clicks on it, soft guitar tunes echoing through the car, followed shortly by equally soft words, and First Day of my Life makes itself at home.

"What is it then?"

He doesn't say anything for a long second. Annie blinks once, twice, tilting her head at his profile, trying to read his mind.

"It's an acronym."

"Oh." Annie's silent for a while, letting the song play on. "What does it stand for?"

Armin steals a glance at her. His fingers grip the wheel tighter. "A is for my name. Armin. M stands for Mikasa."

He goes quiet again, as if considering his next words. Annie nods along, her curiosity growing bigger. E must stand for their other friend he keeps mentioning. She doesn't remember Armin ever mentioning his name before, despite talking about the two all the time. She wonders why. Armin always pictured him as such a good friend, yet he's never mentioned his name. Yet he seems to get sadder whenever he mentions him.

"And E stands for Eren," Armin finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. “He…” Armin trails back, then takes a deep breath and blinks rapidly, as if chasing tears away. “He was– He is my best friend.”

Pressing her lips together, Annie looks over at him– his frown, his clenched jaw, his fingers turning white on the steering wheel. His eyes focused ahead and only ahead, as if not seeing anything beyond that.

Annie tilts her head. “Was? Did you two have a fight or something?”

Armin opens his mouth but then closes it again. “Oh, no, I could never fight him.” A sad smile makes its way onto his lips. He loosens his grip on the steering wheel. “He always did whatever he wanted, fighting him would have been futile.”

Annie furrows her brows. It was always the past tense with Eren, as if– oh.

Oh, no.

Annie’s eyes widen in realization, the puzzle pieces finally fitting together.

Armin takes a deep breath in, as if to calm himself. “He is my best friend,” he says again, this time more content. He brings the car to a stop, and only now does Annie realize they’ve reached the canoeing spot. “He went missing a few months ago. The police searched for him, we searched for him, but then his birthday came around, he became a legal adult, and they stopped looking. Now he’s just… missing.”

Annie bites her lips, her eyes wide. “I… don’t know what to say.”

The boy nods slightly. After a moment of silence, Armin takes a deep breath in, letting it out through his mouth slowly, then takes his seat belt off and flashes her a smile. “Let’s go canoeing, shall we?”

Annie hesitates for a second, uncertain of whether this is the right thing to do or she should say something. She’s not sure what– sorries would do nothing to make it all better, she knows that much. The blonde eventually nods, and they get out of the car. She comes around the car and, standing on her tippy toes, wraps her arms around his neck.

"I'd tell you that I'm sorry, but I doubt that would help," Annie says, tightening her embrace.

Armin lets out a huff. He puts his arms around her and rests his chin on her shoulder. "It's fine," he whispers.

Silence falls over them for a moment, the water’s constant running and the owls’ occasional booing the only sounds in the valley. Armin’s arms soften around her, his eyes fluttering close as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. His heart beats against her chest, and hers against his, and for a second she thinks that this is the closest they’ve ever been.

Then, "I'm sorry," Annie says.

Armin huffs a short laugh, tickling her skin. "You're right, that doesn't do shit."

Annie scoffs a little herself. "I know!"

He takes her hand and helps her into the canoe, and she settles on one of the benches.

Armin allows himself to enjoy Annie's warmth for a second more before he parts from her.

The two open the trailer and take one of the many canoes out. Once they settle it on the shore, they decide to leave their shoes in the car, since they'll have to get in the water to push the canoe anyway.

Just as he’s about to join her, Armin’s eyes widen as if he had just remembered something, and he asks her to wait just a moment before he dashes to the car. Annie tilts her head to the side, brows furrowed– this is getting weirder by the second.

He’s back in no time, a backpack swung over his shoulder. He tosses it into the canoe and it lands with a boof, sounding rather heavy; it even looks stuffed, round on the sides, as if it were bearing heavy luggage. Annie’s frown deepens at the sight of the mysterious bag, wondering what he might have brought in it, but the boy seems not to notice her confusion. He pushes the canoe into the water and jumps in and settles on the bench in front of her.

“What’s in the backpack?” she questions, taking the paddle he’s holding out for her.

“Oh, just some snacks,” he smiles, slapping his paddle in the water.

Annie does the same, not ceasing her questionnaire. The paddles rhythmically hit the water, one in, one out, one in, one out, creating a splashing sound, the calm water only disturbed by them and the occasional fish jumping around.

“Snacks? What for?”

Armin scoffs. “You’re really not into surprises, are you?”

Annie sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I’m not fond of them,” she admits.

Armin hums. “Okay,” he says, his voice soft. “We never got to have our picnic,” he says.

Annie hums in understanding– they didn’t, the consoulers were tasked to clean the children’s dorm on the weekend the two of them had planned it, and they never got around to rescheduling it.

“So, I thought we could have it now. We could stop on that little island and stargaze and eat snacks.”

Annie takes a moment to consider the idea, a smile involuntarily raising to her lips, her face warming. He really thought this through, huh? She wouldn’t have ever thought she was worthy of so much thought and consideration, yet here he is, having planned an entire night adventure for her just because she seemed sad to have missed the canoeing.

“Ok, we can do that,” she finally says. “I’d love that.”

“Good.”

The moon shines high above them, reflecting in the water, only allowing Annie to briefly see Armin's face– but even then, she can tell apart the red on his face, the sheepish smile on his lips, and the somehow determined look in his eyes. His eyes, searching hers so intensely, she can feel her own cheeks warm up, the tips of her ears catching fire, and she's sure he can see it too, for his smile boardens.

He puts his paddle on the floor of the canoe with a click, causing the canoe to slow down. Annie does the same, following his movements, squinting her eyes to get a better look at what he’s doing. Armin brings the backpack closer to himself, unzips it, and starts rummaging through its contents. He eventually retrieves a bag of chips, a victorious expression on his face.

He opens it and thrusts it towards her. "Chips?"

“I thought we were supposed to have the picnic on the island.”

“We can have some snacks now too,” he shrugs, popping a chip in his mouth.

Annie leans forward, careful not to dip the canoe at any end, and grabs a handful of chips, popping them in her mouth one by one. He’s chosen the cheese flavoured ones– her favourite. He insists on sharing them, yet he lets her have the most.

Once the chips are no more, Annie wipes her hands on her shorts. As Armin puts the empty bag away, she picks up her paddle.

But Armin doesn’t do the same. Instead, he just stares at her, a dumb smile on his lips, his eyes sparkling with a kind of softness she finds foreign. Way too foreign.

Annie frowns. "What?"

Armin opens his mouth but then bites his lip. Then he smiles again. "You're beautiful," he says, his voice barely above a whisper as if not to disturb her beauty. He says it like a secret needing to be kept, as if the world could not handle it had he spoken any louder. As if her beauty were something to be protected.

Annie’s eyes widen briefly. She freezes in her tracks, hand frozen midair. If her face wasn’t pink before, she’s sure it’s bright red now, for even her ears have caught fire. She falters, her hands growing weak, and almost drops the paddle in the water, but thankfully manages to catch it in time, bending over the edge of the canoe, dipping her hand in the water in the process.

Annie’s lips press together as she watches him try to catch his breath. He seems to calm down at some point, then starts laughing even harder.

Armin presses his lips together as if trying not to laugh, a soft snicker still escaping his lips.

Then he bursts into laughter.

"I paid you a compliment and you just– you dropped the paddle, An!" he manages to say between laughs and hiccups, clutching his stomach.

Biting her lips, Annie looks away, her face so hot it feels like it’s going to explode. She listens as Armin tries to calm down, taking a deep breath in, her eyes focused on the moon’s reflection on the water. It’s a full moon, so shiny and beautiful that not even its own reflection in the water seems to do it justice.

Suddenly, an idea morphs into her mind, and she forgets all about her embarrassment. She turns towards Armin, who ceased his laughter and picked up his paddle. Seeing the look on her face, his expression morphes into one of curiosity, his eyebrow arched.

“Let's go for a swim,” Annie says, taking even herself by surprise.

Armin's eyes widen. “Now?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?” he asks again, a smile blossoming on his lips.

Annie rolls her eyes, smirking to herself. “Yes, Armin, right now. Or do you not know how to swim?”

“Of course I know how to swim,” he says, his voice sounding almost offended.

Annie laughs again and sets her paddle on the floor of the canoe once more. She grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it up and over her head, remaining in only her black sports bra. Her skin shivers at the sudden contact with the night cold.

“What are you waiting for then?” she teases even further.

She folds her shirt and her shorts and places them safely on the bench, then tentatively stands up, scanning the water with her eyes, trying to decide whether she should actually do it or not. She closes her eyes, swallows hard, and jumps in without another thought.

The water is so cold when she touches it, it makes her skin shiver. As she emerges from the water and moves her now wet hair out of her face, Annie wishes she wouldn’t have been so reckless. She looks up at Armin, who's staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face, something like surprise mixed with delight, his smile growing wider. Annie finds herself mirroring it.

“Armin, come in!”

His hands go to the hem of his shirt, his eyes never leaving her. He pulls it over his head, and Annie turns around, feeling her face warm up at the mere thought of seeing Armin naked.

Shortly after, she hears a splash as he jumps into the river, followed closely by a small shriek.

“You didn’t tell me it’d be this cold!”

Annie laughs shortly, finally looking up at him. Before she gets the chance to take a good look at him, arms wrap around her waist, and she’s being pushed under the cold, cold water, letting out a shrill of surprise.

The two sink under the surface. Annie’s eyes widen in surprise, a bubble of air escaping her lips; her hands instinctively go to his arms and clutch his flesh, holding on for dear life. She only catches a glimpse of Armin’s shit eating grin before she’s pushed out of the water, his grip tighter around her waist. The cold hits her in the face, the hairs on her arms raising at the sudden change of temperature. She wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, both in an attempt to ground herself to something and get warmer, his skin against hers extremely hot. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, his shoulders shaking with laughter, but his arms are wrapped securely around her waist– although Annie’s not sure if she is clinging to him or the other way around.

“Why did you do that?” she asks, but her voice is breaking into laughter too.

Armin tries to answer, but just as he’s about to open his mouth, he’s splashed with water right in the face, making him recoil. Annie giggles shortly at the look on his face, her head feeling suddenly very light, her chest warm– and once again, she wonders what kind of spells he’s put on her to make her feel like this so suddenly, so unexpectedly.

She moves his wet hair out of his forehead, wanting to see his face better, and his eyes pierce through hers as soon as she does, shining in the dim moonlight. It illuminates them so beautifully, makes their blue even brighter, more intense, and she finds herself drowning into them, so, so deep, as if he were inviting her into his soul, laying it bare for her to discover. His touch is gentle on her skin, his warmth and heat sheltering her from the cold of the night.

Annie parts her lips slightly, then presses them together, afraid that the wrong words would come out. A hint of confusion passes Armin’s eyes as he searches her face. Annie looks away, denying the thought, overly aware that she could not hold back if she looked at him any longer, that she shouldn’t, for the summer is almost over, and if she hasn’t until now, why would she allow herself to fall now–

“Annie,” he says her name in a whisper, like a sacred relic that should be preserved and protected from the rest of the world.

She closes her eyes, furrows her brows. She shouldn’t, she knows she shouldn’t, but the dam is slowly, slowly breaking, the water overflowing, threatening to spill over.

A warm hand touches her cheek. Her eyes flutter open, and widen even more when she finds Armin staring back at her, his eyes so comforting, the smile on his lips reassuring, letting her know that if she falls he will be right next to her and hold her hand through it all, making the crash softer.

His lips part.

But before he gets the chance to say anything, she makes up her mind. She gathers every ounce of courage she has left in her, and she grabs his face in her hands, and she wants to tell him that she does love him, and she wished their time together would never end but it will end, and they will part ways, and she’d be damned if she let the time pass without doing something about this fire he’s ignited in her, and–

Before she knows it, her lips brush against his. Her lashes flutter against his cheek, his eyes equally as surprised, and she closes her eyes, tentatively places a hand on his jaw, and-

Armin pulls her closer to him, placing his hand firmly on the small of her back, bringing the other to her face, moving a strand of hair behind her ear before tangling his fingers in her hair. A sigh escapes Annie’s lips as she slowly moves her lips against his, sending a shudder down Armin’s spine– and he’s not sure what takes over him, but he’s suddenly kissing her so hungrily, moving his lips against hers with such need, bringing her closer, closer, as close as he physically can. Annie slightly parts her lips, and Armin wastes no time in taking the invitation, sneaking his tongue past her lips– and she allows it, and she tilts her head back a little, and he takes her all in, his kiss sending shivers through every particle of her body. The cold slowly disperses, the moon shining brighter even, and as their lips dance together and Armin's hand moves slightly up on her back, making her skin burn, she wonders why she hasn’t allowed herself the luxury of kissing him this freely before.

Something cold and slick suddenly touches her leg, moving along it. Annie yelps, breaking away from her lover, and dips in the water, her eyes widening in panic when she realizes she's going down, Armin’s support suddenly gone.

It takes the boy a solid second to come to his senses, grab her arms, and pull her up. Annie takes a deep breath of air when she finds herself not drowning anymore, clinging to his arms for dear life.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice alert.

He squeezes her forearms in his hands, which feels weirdly grounding, and her body slightly relaxes. But the nagging feeling that something has touched her sends shivers down her spine.

“Something touched my leg!”

“What?”

Annie runs a hand down her face, moves her hair out of her eyes, and wipes her head around, squinting her eyes at the water, trying to see what it was, but the dark won’t allow her to.

“I swear something touched my leg,” she says, eyes still squinted.

Armin blinks at her once, twice, looks down in the water as if searching it too. “Maybe it was a fish,” he offers, “there are fish in the river.”

He looks up at her, a smile starting to pull at his lips, his eyes slightly squinted as if trying to see her better. His hands still holding her by the arms burn through her skin, her face warms up, she feels it in her ears even.

“Probably,” she mutters, lowering her gaze.

Armin smiles softly. His hands leave her elbows then, yet her skin continues to burn, and the boy swims away. Annie narrows her eyes before diving right in and swimming after him. But he’s faster than her, five feet ahead, and he doesn’t look like he'd slow down. He turns around only briefly, to catch a glimpse of her, his smile widening when he does so, then he turns away and disappears under the water. Annie takes a good look at the spot where he previously was, takes a deep breath of air in, and dives into the water.

When she opens her eyes, Annie finds Armin already looking at her, a big smile plastered on his lips. He extends his hand forward, showing her his palm, and she puts her own palm out, paralleling his, extending her fingers so she can touch each of his fingers, and lays her palm flat on his. A bubble of air leaves her lips when she smiles. A similar one leaves Armin’s when he mirrors her. He interlocks his fingers with hers, holding her hand delicately, his smile widening. In the dim light of the moon and the stars shining above them, with his hair floating around his head and the kindest look on his face, Armin looks absolutely beautiful, taking her breath away.

Without letting go of her hand, Armin swims up and breaks the water’s surface, pulling her with him.

There’s a big smile on his face when Annie faces him again, and she finds herself mirroring it. He’s looking at her with sparkling eyes, and she’s thankful for the dark, for it provides some sort of shelter from the intensity of his gaze– she’s pretty sure she would have melted right away had he looked at her that way in broad daylight.

“This is so fun!” he says, his voice filled with excitement.

Annie lets out a chuckle. “It really is!”

“I love you!”

“What?

“I said I love you!”

Annie’s eyes widen, she feels her face burn. Her heart skips a beat, beating so fast that it threatens to burst out of her chest. Yet her muscles relax, a big smile pulling on her lips.

“No, I heard you, I was just giving you an out!”

Armin laughs, throwing his head back, the crystalline sound echoing beautifully through the valley.

“I don’t need an out, I love you! I have loved you for so long it hurts, Annie.”

The girl takes in a deep breath, trying to calm down her nerves, trying to calm down her racing heart, trying to cool down her burning skin– but she can’t. The effect his words have on her entire being is impossible to undo.

Before she knows it, the words that have been itching on the tip of her tongue for so many weeks finally set free. “I love you, too.”

Armin’s eyes widen then, and his lips part slightly. He gazes at her with a look she doesn’t quite understand. Annie bites her bottom lip, suddenly very aware of herself and her surroundings and the cold of the night, and his eyes on her, bubbling with questions he doesn’t seem to want to ask, the water splashing against their bodies softly. But she doesn’t regret saying it– she’s been wanting to say it for so long, she’s been wanting him to hear her say it for so long.

His face flashes pink, so bright it’s visible through the dark of the night. “You do?”

Annie giggles, floating closer to him and cupping his face in her palm, holding it so gingerly. “Of course I do,” she whispers, resting her forehead against his.

She grazes his cheek with her thumb, searching his eyes curiously. He slowly raises his arms around her, resting his hands on the small of her back, and tugs her closer, until there’s no room between them even for the water. Very slowly, Armin brings his lips to hers and kisses her, much softer and much shorter than he did earlier, as if to seal their newfound love.

Then he parts away, a soft smile resting on his lips, and buries his face in the crook of her neck, eliciting a little giggle from Annie.

“We should get going,” she mutters, threading her fingers through his hair.

He shakes his head, tickling the skin on her neck. “Not yet.”

Annie hums, resting her cheek against the side of his head. “It’s getting colder,” she warns. “Your lips will turn purple.”

But he says nothing, only tightening his hold on her. Annie sighs.

“I can’t kiss you if your lips fall off.”

Armin scoffs lightly. He looks up at her, meeting her eyes with such a serene look on his face. “Alright,” he mutters.

He kisses her cheek, then takes her hand in his and tugs her away. They help each other back in the canoe and take their assigned seats on the benches, facing each other. Armin rummages through his backpack and produces a yellow towel out of it.

Annie snorts. “You really thought of it all, didn’t you?”

Armin leans forward and places the towel on her head, gathering her hair and squeezing it gently. “I like planning my surprises thoroughly,” he smiles, massaging her scalp.

Annie’s face warms up. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

He drops the towel on her shoulders. Annie hastily dabs the water away from her body and returns it to him with a thankful smile. She hastily puts her shirt back on, then watches Armin do the same. He puts the towel aside. They soon start paddling again, the canoe drifting through the night slowly and surely.

Once they make it to their usual stoppage spot for their picnic, and pull the canoe up to the shore, Annie is not surprised to see Armin pull out a blanket either. He did say he likes planning his surprises to the smallest detail. They spread it out and seal the corners with pebbles to make sure it’s secure.

As Armin takes out everything he’s prepared for the picnic, Annie rubs her hands together in an attempt to chase the cold away. Her eyes follow his every move, watching patiently and he unpacks cookies and casseroles of fruit, and paper cups. Once it’s all laid out, Armin stands up with a proud smile to admire his work. His eyes meet hers, and his smile momentarily falters.

“Are you alright?”

Annie nods thoroughly. “Yeah, just a bit cold. Don’t worry about it,” she hurries to add, still rubbing her hands together.

Armin shrugs his hoodie off and holds it out for her. “Here,” he says.

Annie presses her lips together. She can’t possibly take it, and leave him in only a t-shirt.

Armin sighs. He takes a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them, and drapes it around her shoulders, rubbing her arms up and down as if to prompt her to put it on properly. “I can’t have you get sick again.”

Annie eventually does as she’s told, slipping her arms through the sleeves. She already feels better, the warmth of his hoodie engulfing her. She rests her forehead against his shoulder then, hiding her burning face from his gaze. Armin laughs softly, bringing a hand to her head and gently running his fingers through her damp locks.

His skin is warm, and his heart is beating so loudly she can hear it, and soon their heartbeats and their breathing sync.

He retrieves his hand from her hair, nudging her shoulder slightly.

“Annie, look up,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were holding his breath.

Annie complies, looking up at him with a small frown. But he’s not looking at her, his head tilted up towards the sky. A whimsical smile is resting on his lips, his eyes sparkling with wonder.

Curiosity takes the best of her. She straightens up, his arm falls from around her, yet his hand bruises against hers, and she finds it in herself to take a hold of it, wrapping her fingers around his much bigger and much warmer ones. She follows his gaze, and looks up.

The view Annie’s met with is mesmerizing: thousands of little, sparky stars light up the night sky, blinding her, reminding her of a life she’s never lived, in which the stars belong to her and the sky is her canvas. It is so beautiful, she has to pinch her skin to make sure it's even real. A billion stars shine above them, the full moon throning in the middle of them, illuminating the river and the valley.

A shooting star falls so fast, she almost thinks she dreamed it up, were it not for Armin marveling at the sight and pointing up to show it to her. A smile pulls on her lips, and she feels at peace, standing there with his hoodie around her shoulders, with his hand holding hers, admiring the world around them.

“What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” she mutters, somehow afraid she might disturb the serenity of the stars. "Who painted it?"

His eyes lock on hers, a smile playing on his lips. "Hmm?"

"The sky. It looks like a painting." Annie's lips curl up as she leans her head against Armin’s shoulder again. "Who painted the sky?"

He takes a moment to consider, his eyes going up once more. He watches the sparkling dots patiently, trying to make out the shapes of constellations, his hold on Annie's hand tightening only slightly.

"I don't know," he finally says. "But I'm sure they painted it for you."

She hums lightly, a cue of red spreading in her cheeks, looking up once more. Her eyes hover over the sky a little longer before settling on one star, and a little idea pops up in her mind.

She points up. “See that one blue-ish star that shines a little brighter than the rest?”

Armin’s gaze follows her finger and he nods slightly.

“I’ll name it after you,” she whispers.

His eyes light up, he wraps both of his arms around her and buries his face in the crook of her neck. A light giggle escapes Annie’s lips as she pats his hair.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” A thought forms then, and, however cheesy it might sound, she voices it out. “That’s Armin, the star that lights my way.”

#who painted the sky?#wpts #aruani #aruani fic #armin x annie

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