#sam x bsf!reader

[enemiestolovershoe]

Heyy. First off all I love your blog :). Second can you maybe write something where readers is best friends with sam and colby and they celebrate christmas together. maybe do something with presents etc and then they decided to play a drinking game and they get absolutely wasted. sam whispers something to reader and she eagerly nods and just says „lets fucking do this“ so sam takes her hand and leads reader to his bedroom and colby is just „have fun guys but remember wrap the present“

thank you :)

Not such a silent night

Sam Golbach x bsf!reader

Summary: Sam gives Y/N a different kind of Christmas present this year.

Words: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, Alcohol use, drunk people, swearing, use of petnames

A/N: Like I said in my previous post this got deleted half way through so please ignore mistakes and maybe show it some love. Thank you and Sorry :)

The soft hum of Christmas music filled your bedroom as you stood in front of your mirror, biting your lip in thought. Clothes were scattered across your room—a clear sign of indecision. Tonight was Sam and Colby’s annual Christmas party, and you wanted to strike the perfect balance between festive and comfortable.

You held up a pair of black tights in one hand and a black skirt in the other, tilting your head as you considered your options. “This should work, right?” you murmured to yourself, eyeing the combination critically.

The tights slid on effortlessly, their sleek material hugging your legs. You paired them with the skirt, zipping it up and smoothing the fabric. Then came the pièce de résistance: a red Christmas sweatshirt adorned with a goofy reindeer face and the words Oh, Deer! printed across the chest. You chuckled at your reflection, the bright red contrasting perfectly with the darker tones of your outfit.

“Festive, but not trying too hard,” you muttered, grabbing your black boots to complete the look. You pulled your hair into a loose half-up, half-down style and dabbed on a touch of makeup—just enough to make you feel like you’d made an effort.

Satisfied, you grabbed your coat and phone, double-checking your gift bag containing presents for Sam and Colby. Before heading out, you shot a quick text in the group chat:

You: On my way! Should be there in 15.

Sam: We’re ready for you!

Colby: Hurry up, you’re missing all the fun.

You: Colby, the party hasn’t even started yet.

A laugh escaped your lips as you ordered the Uber. Minutes later, a car pulled up outside, and you slid into the backseat, the faint scent of peppermint in the air reminding you of the season.

The ride to the boys’ house was uneventful, with the city twinkling in Christmas lights. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement as you neared their place. Every gathering at Sam and Colby’s always promised unforgettable memories—and likely some chaos.

When the car rolled to a stop, you stepped out, clutching the gift bag. Their house was already glowing with fairy lights strung along the roof, and you could hear faint music from inside. You barely made it to the front door before it swung open, revealing Sam with his signature grin.

“About time!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a warm hug.

“Hey, it’s not like I was late,” you teased, laughing as you hugged him back. His arms lingered around you for a beat longer than usual, but you brushed it off, assuming he was just in a festive mood.

“Don’t crush her, dude,” Colby interrupted, appearing in the doorway and pulling you into a more casual, one-armed hug. “You brought wine, right?”

“what even is this question,” you shot back with a grin, holding up the bag. “Fair enough,” Colby said, stepping aside to let you in.

The familiar warmth of their house enveloped you as you stepped inside, the scent of pine and cinnamon wafting through the air. Their living room was decked out with Christmas decorations: a tree bursting with ornaments, garlands draped over every surface, and even a Santa hat perched on the corner of the TV.

“Let’s get you a drink,” Sam said, leading the way into the kitchen.

The three of you crowded around the counter, where an array of bottles was already on display. Colby grabbed a bottle of wine and waggled it in your direction. “Red or white?”

“Red,” you answered immediately.

“Bold choice,” Colby said as he uncorked the bottle and poured three glasses.

Sam handed you one, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. “Cheers,” he said, raising his glass.

“To another chaotic Christmas party,” Colby added with a grin.

“To not be hungover tomorrow,” you chimed in, clinking your glass against theirs.

Sam chuckled. “You’re too optimistic for your own good.”

The doorbell chimed, and the three of you exchanged glances before Colby dramatically sighed. “Guess we have to be good hosts now.”

He pushed off the counter, but you followed behind him with Sam right on your heels. As Colby swung open the door, Jake, Johnnie, Tara, and the Sturniolo triplets filed in, bundled up in scarves and jackets, cheeks pink from the cold.

“Merry Christmas!” Jake announced, stepping forward to pull you into a quick hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you replied, squeezing him tightly.

Johnnie was next, offering his usual goofy grin as he hugged you. “Nice sweater,” he teased, tugging at the hem of your sweatshirt. “Very on brand.”

“Better than your sweater,” you shot back, eyeing his plain green pullover.

“I’m minimalistic,” he argued with mock indignation.

Tara pulled you into a warm hug, planting a kiss on each of your cheeks. “You look so cute, babe,” she said, her tone genuinely affectionate.

“You’re one to talk,” you said, admiring her glittery gold dress. “You look like a Christmas goddess.”

“Stop, you’ll make me cry before dinner,” she joked, wiping away fake tears as Matt, Chris, and Nick approached.

Nick greeted you with a bear hug, lifting you off the ground slightly. “Hey, superstar,” he said, setting you back down.

Matt waved before giving you a casual side hug. “Nice to see you not in sweats for once.”

“Wow, thanks for that,” you deadpanned, though you couldn’t help but laugh.

Chris was the last to step forward, his shy smile immediately softening you. “Hey,” he said simply, pulling you into a brief but firm hug.

“Hey,” you replied, giving him an extra squeeze before stepping back.

Once everyone had their coats hung up and glasses of wine in hand, you all moved to the dining table. The feast was already spread out: turkey, mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and enough side dishes to feed a small army.

“Damn, you guys went all out,” Jake said, eyeing the spread appreciatively as he took a seat.

“Colby was in charge of the decorations,” Sam said, pulling out a chair for you before sitting down beside you.

“And the food?” Tara asked.

Sam raised a hand. “That was all me.”

“I helped,” Colby interjected, pointing a fork in Sam’s direction.

“Boiling water doesn’t count,” Sam shot back with a grin, earning a round of laughter from the table.

The conversation flowed as everyone dug into their plates.

“This turkey is insane,” Matt said, his mouth half-full. “What’s the secret?”

“Hours of YouTube tutorials and one minor kitchen fire,” Sam admitted, making everyone laugh.

“Remember when he almost set the microwave on fire last year?” Johnnie chimed in, earning groans and giggles from the group.

“I was reheating gravy!” Sam defended himself, though even he was laughing now.

As plates were cleared and the last bits of dessert disappeared, everyone leaned back in their chairs, visibly satisfied.

“I think I’m gonna explode,” Nick groaned, patting his stomach.

“You say that every year,” Chris said, shaking his head.

“Because it’s true every year,” Nick retorted.

“Alright, living room,” Tara declared, standing up and clapping her hands. “I need to lie down before I go into a food coma, and we still have presents to open!”

You followed the group into the living room, wine glasses refilled and spirits high. The Christmas tree sparkled in the corner, and the stack of gifts beneath it looked almost too good to disturb. Almost.

“Who’s going first?” Colby asked, plopping onto the couch and stretching his legs out.

“I think we should make Nick go last,” Matt said, smirking. “Make him suffer a little.”

“Why me?” Nick demanded, throwing a pillow at Matt, who easily dodged it.

“Because you’re the most dramatic,” Chris said, shrugging.

The bickering continued as you settled onto the floor near Sam, your gift bag resting beside you. You sipped your wine, a warm buzz settling over you as laughter filled the room.

“Alright, let’s start this,” Tara said, grabbing a gift from under the tree. “Otherwise, we’ll be here until New Year’s.”

The first exchange began, and you watched as everyone’s faces lit up with excitement, their laughter and gratitude filling the room. The warmth of the night, the company, and the holiday cheer wrapped around you like a cozy blanket.

The group gathered around the large U-shaped couch, everyone settling into their spots with wine glasses in hand and cheeks flushed from the meal. Sam sat beside you, close enough that his knee brushed against yours every so often. You noticed how he leaned slightly toward you, his shoulder just barely grazing yours as he laughed at Colby’s commentary about Nick’s dessert plate still sitting abandoned on the table.

“Nick, are you seriously going to let that ice cream melt?” Colby teased.

“Maybe I’m saving it for later,” Nick shot back, slumping into his seat at the corner of the couch.

“You’re saving a puddle,” Chris said, smirking.

“Guys, focus,” Tara interrupted, tapping her wine glass with her nails. “It’s time for presents.”

Sam reached for his wine glass but kept his body angled toward you. “Excited for this?” he asked, his voice low.

“Always,” you replied, ignoring the way your heart fluttered when his smile lingered a bit too long.

Chris cleared his throat, standing up with a sheepish smile. “I guess I’ll go first.”

He reached under the tree, pulling out a small stack of neatly wrapped gifts.

“Chris, you wrapped these?” Tara asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Of course I did,” he said, handing her a gift bag. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“Or a man of many YouTube tutorials,” Matt quipped, earning a laugh from everyone.

Chris worked his way around the room, handing out gifts until he reached you. He gave you a small rectangular box, wrapped in silver paper.

“Open it,” Chris urged, sitting back down as everyone tore into their gifts.

Inside the box was a delicate bracelet with a tiny charm shaped like a star.

“Oh my God, Chris,” you said, holding it up to the light. “This is beautiful.”

“I figured you could wear it for good luck,” he said, smiling shyly.

“You’re the best,” you said, leaning over to give him a quick hug.

Chris had given Colby a new pair of wireless headphones. “Because you always steal mine,” Chris added, Matt a sleek black beanie that immediately went on his head, Jake a pair of ugly pajama pants, Johnnie a pack of rare trading cards, and Nick a hardcover book on photography.

Matt went next, handing out his gifts, which ranged from a bottle of whiskey for Colby “It’s your type of sophistication,” Matt had joked. A custom framed photo collage for Tara of their favorite group memories. For you, he’d picked out a soft plaid scarf in your favorite color.

“This is perfect, Matt,” you said, wrapping it around your shoulders.

Jake’s turn brought practical but thoughtful gifts: A giant gummy bear dick for Johnnie, and a handmade scented candle for Tara. “I made this myself, okay?” he added, and for you, a new journal for your junk journal addiction.

“I thought you might like something personal,” Jake said as you opened it.

“Jake, this is so sweet,” you said.

Johnnie was next, handing out quirky, personalized gifts like a t-shirt for Sam and Colby that read Professional Ghost Hunter and a glittery phone case for Tara. When he handed you your gift, you opened it to find a small framed picture of you, him, and the rest of the group from last year’s Christmas party.

“I figured you’d want to remember how great we look,” Johnnie said, making you laugh.

“Thanks, Johnnie. It’s perfect.”

Tara’s gifts were chic and thoughtful. She gave you a makeup set you’d been eyeing for months. “I knew you wanted it but wouldn’t buy it for yourself,” Tara said, grinning.

“I love you,” you said dramatically, throwing your arms around her.

Finally, it was Sam’s turn. He picked up a neatly wrapped box and handed it to you first.

“For you,” he said, his voice a little softer than usual.

Inside was a soft, oversized hoodie you had been eyeing for months now.

“You’re always saying you want that hoodie so I got it for you,” Sam said, scratching the back of his neck. “And it’s your favorite color.”

“Sam, this is perfect,” you said, your heartwarming at how thoughtful he’d been.

“I knew I was winning gift-giving this year,” he said with a wink.

Colby’s turn was filled with playful energy, gifting you a pair of fuzzy socks with little snowflakes on them and a mug that read This is probably wine.

“Because you can never have enough fuzzy socks,” Colby said, grinning as you laughed.

When it was your turn, you handed out your gifts: a pair of engraved keychains for Jake, Johnnie, Sam, and Colby with little inside jokes on them, a signed copy of a book for Tara, a box full of different Pepsi flavors for Chris, a Necklace for Matt and hoodie for Nick.

Finally, Nick’s turn arrived, and he gave everyone hilarious gag gifts—a banana costume for Colby, a potato-shaped stress ball for Matt, and a shirt for you that said Holiday Chaos Coordinator.

“Very fitting,” Nick said with a smirk as everyone roared with laughter.

The room was filled with thank-yous, laughter, and a sense of togetherness that made you feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be. Sam nudged your arm gently, and you looked over at him, his gaze warm.

“Pretty good haul tonight,” he said softly, his smile making your heart flutter again.

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling back. “Best Christmas yet.”

The room buzzed with the lingering excitement of gifts as everyone settled back into their spots on the U-shaped couch, laughter and casual chatter filling the space. Colby was holding up the banana costume Nick had given him, inspecting it with an exaggeratedly serious expression.

“I’m just saying,” Colby began, “this might be the best gift I’ve ever received. You’re never going to top this, Nick.”

“You’re welcome,” Nick said, leaning back with a satisfied smirk.

Tara sipped her wine, her legs curled up beneath her as she glanced at the potato-shaped stress ball in Matt’s hand. “What’s the story behind that?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Matt gave a dramatic sigh. “Nick thinks I’m stressed all the time, so naturally, his solution is a potato.”

“It’s a multi-functional potato,” Nick retorted. “You can squeeze it and pretend it’s your dinner companion.”

Jake burst out laughing. “Matt and his emotional support potato. Coming to a theater near you.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” Matt groaned, tossing the stress ball at Jake, who dodged it easily.

Meanwhile, Jake was fiddling with the engraved keychain you’d given him, turning it over in his hands with a small smile. “This was a really thoughtful gift,” he said quietly, nudging you with his elbow.

“I’m glad you like it,” you replied, smiling back.

Sam, sitting close enough that his arm brushed yours, leaned in slightly. “I can’t believe you actually found a signed copy of that book for Tara,” he said.

“Let’s just say I had to pull some strings,” you said with a wink.

“Impressive,” Sam said, his grin lingering a little too long before Tara interrupted.

“So,” Tara said, gesturing to the now-empty wine glasses scattered across the coffee table. “What’s next? We need to keep this party going.”

As if on cue, Colby suddenly stood up, stretching his arms overhead. “Don’t move,” he said, already heading toward the kitchen.

“What’s he up to?” Jake asked, leaning back against the couch.

“Knowing Colby?” Johnnie said, smirking. “Something ridiculous.”

You all continued chatting, speculating about Colby’s plans as you sipped your wine and lounged around. A few moments later, he reappeared in the doorway, grinning mischievously and holding up two bottles of Christmas-flavored vodka.

“Time for the real Christmas spirit?” he announced, waggling the bottles in the air.

The room erupted in cheers, everyone raising their glasses or fists in agreement.

“Hell yeah!” Jake exclaimed, already sliding off the couch to sit on the floor.

Colby sauntered into the room, setting the bottles on the coffee table with a flourish. “Let’s gather around, my festive degenerates.”

Everyone scrambled to sit on the floor, forming a loose circle around the coffee table. You found yourself between Sam and Tara, the former sliding closer as he stretched his legs out in front of him.

“What are we playing?” Matt asked, already grabbing a shot glass.

Colby sat cross-legged at the head of the circle, uncapping one of the vodka bottles. “I was thinking we’d start with a classic. Truth or Drink.”

“Dangerous,” Tara said, grinning as she poured herself a small shot.

“Dangerously fun,” Colby corrected.

“Just don’t ask me anything too crazy,” Chris said, shaking his head.

“That’s not how this works,” Jake said with a laugh.

As everyone poured their drinks and settled in, the excitement in the room buzzed with anticipation. The vodka smelled faintly of cinnamon and nutmeg, filling the air with a festive warmth as the first round began.

The game started innocently enough. Everyone poured their first shots, laughter already bubbling in the air as Colby rubbed his hands together with a mischievous grin.

“Alright,” Colby began, looking around the circle. “Let’s ease into this. Jake, truth or drink?”

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. “Truth.”

Colby smirked. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done this year?”

Jake leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Easy,” he said. “Remember that hike where I tripped over my own feet and slid down the trail on my ass? In front of that group of strangers?”

“Oh my God, that was amazing,” Tara said, laughing so hard she had to clutch her side. “You looked like a cartoon character.”

“You’re welcome for the entertainment,” Jake said, holding up his shot glass in mock pride.

The circle moved on, with everyone taking turns answering light-hearted questions or taking small sips of vodka. The cinnamon burn warmed your throat and stomach, the buzz creeping in slowly.

When it was your turn, Johnnie grinned devilishly. “Alright, truth or drink?”

“Truth,” you said confidently, leaning forward.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “If you had to swap lives with one person here for a week, who would it be?”

You laughed, glancing around the circle. “Easy—Tara. She’s got her life so put together, and I’d probably spend a week just trying on all her clothes.”

“Excellent choice,” Tara said, flipping her hair playfully.

As the rounds went on, the questions began to take on a more daring edge, fueled by the increasing buzz from the vodka.

“Sam,” Matt said, pointing at him. “Truth or drink?”

Sam hesitated before saying, “Truth.”

Matt smirked. “Have you ever had a crush on anyone in this room?”

The group collectively “oooh” -ed, leaning in eagerly. Sam flushed bright red and quickly reached for his shot glass, downing it in one go.

“Oh, come on!” Nick said, groaning. “You can’t leave us hanging like that.”

Sam just shook his head, his cheeks still pink. “Next question,” he muttered, earning a round of laughter.

The bottle made its way back to you, and this time, Colby’s gaze landed on you with a smirk.

“Your turn, Y/N,” he said. “Truth or drink?”

“Truth,” you said, feeling a little braver now.

Colby leaned forward, his grin widening. “What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Oh, that’s easy. This guy once took me to a drive-thru, ordered himself a meal, and then told me he ‘forgot his wallet.’ I ended up paying for his food and leaving before he finished his fries.”

The group erupted in laughter, with Nick practically wheezing. “No way that actually happened.”

“It did,” you said, shaking your head. “And I blocked his number before I even got home.”

“Legendary,” Sam said, clinking his glass against yours.

The game continued, the questions gradually becoming bolder.

“Matt,” Tara said, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Truth or drink?”

Matt leaned back, a cocky smile on his face. “Truth.”

She tapped her chin dramatically. “What’s your biggest turn-on?”

The group erupted into laughter and whistles, and Matt raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re evil for that,” he said, laughing.

“You answered truth!” Tara shot back, raising her glass. His grin faltered slightly as his gaze flicked around the room. “Uh...confidence, I guess?”

“Lame answer,” Nick said, shaking his head.

“I’m not gonna give you a whole list!” Matt retorted.

As the game progressed, your buzz deepened, the warmth of the vodka and the closeness of your friends making everything feel a little brighter, a little louder. You couldn’t help but notice how Sam’s arm rested against yours more often now, his laughter always seeming to linger just a bit longer when he looked your way.

When the bottle circled back to Colby, he leaned forward, holding the vodka in one hand and his shot glass in the other.

“Alright, group question,” he said, smirking. “What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done? If you don’t answer, you drink.”

The room burst into chaos, everyone groaning and laughing at once.

“No way,” Matt said, immediately reaching for his shot glass.

“You’re all cowards,” Tara said, though she quickly poured herself a shot as well.

Chris buried his face in his hands. “This game is getting dangerous.”

You exchanged a glance with Sam, who raised an eyebrow at you as if to say, Are you really going to answer that?

You laughed, the vodka making you bolder than usual. “I’m drinking,” you said, lifting your glass.

“Smart move,” Sam said, clinking his glass against yours again.

As the game continued, the questions got riskier, the laughter louder, and the group more uninhibited, the holiday cheer blending with the undeniable buzz of the vodka.

The circle had dissolved into a chaotic mess of laughter, slurred words, and increasingly questionable decisions as the vodka bottles emptied. The once-civilized drinking game had spiraled into a parade of the most shameless questions imaginable, fueled by the holiday spirit and far too much alcohol.

Nick was sprawled on the floor near the couch, snoring softly, one arm flung over his face like he’d given up on keeping up with the group.

“Nick’s down for the count,” Chris said, waving his hand in front of Nick’s face. “I give him an hour before he’s asking for pizza.”

Tara was doubled over, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her stomach. “You guys,” she wheezed, struggling to catch her breath. “I can’t—it‘s so funny—oh my God!”

Jake, meanwhile, was leaning back against the couch, mumbling something incomprehensible. “Shss... s’like, ya know?” he slurred, gesturing vaguely with his hands.

“Exactly, Jake,” Matt said with mock seriousness. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Colby was leaning back on his elbows, his cheeks flushed from both alcohol and laughter. “This game’s officially off the rails,” he said, shaking his head. “And I love it.”

You sat cross-legged on the floor, your back resting lightly against Sam’s chest. At some point, he’d shifted closer and closer, his thigh pressed against yours, his arm draped casually behind you. You were both laughing at something Matt had said, but your brain was starting to feel foggy from the vodka.

Sam leaned down, his voice low and close to your ear. “You’re way too good at this game, you know that?”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze, which was laced with mischief. “Or maybe you’re just bad at it,” you teased, your words a little slower than usual.

He grinned, his face so close you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “Nah, I think you’re just trying to distract me.”

“Distract you from what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“From how ridiculously pretty you look right now,” he said, his tone playful but with a hint of sincerity that made your stomach flip.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sam, you’re drunk.”

“Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “But I’m not lying.”

Tara, still cackling, pointed at the two of you. “Oh my God, Sam’s flirting, everyone. Someone write this down.”

“Shut up, Tara,” Sam said, but he was smiling, not even trying to deny it.

Chris groaned, throwing a pillow at Tara. “You’re gonna embarrass them.”

“Oh, please,” Colby chimed in, smirking. “I think Sam’s doing a good enough job on his own.”

Jake tried to say something, but it came out as an incomprehensible mumble, which only made Tara laugh harder.

“Jake, are you even speaking English anymore?” Matt asked, looking genuinely concerned.

Jake waved him off, his words slurred but his grin unbothered. “ M fine... jus’ talkin’... ‘bout... stuff.”

Sam ignored the chaos around you, his attention focused solely on you. “I’m just saying,” he continued, his voice softer now, “you’ve been looking at me like that all night.”

“Like what?” you asked, your heart racing despite your alcohol-fueled haze.

“Like I’m the only guy in this room,” he said, his voice teasing but his eyes serious.

You felt your face heat up, though you weren’t sure if it was from the vodka or the way Sam was looking at you. “Maybe you’re imagining things,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

He chuckled, leaning even closer. “Or maybe I’m not.”

Colby clapped his hands together suddenly, breaking the moment. “Alright, who’s next? Someone’s gotta keep this circus going.”

“I’ll go,” Tara said, still giggling as she picked up a bottle and pointed it at Matt. “Truth or drink?”

As Tara launched into her question, Sam didn’t move away, his shoulder brushing yours as he stayed close. His hand rested on the floor behind you, but his fingers toyed lightly with the edge of your skirt as if he couldn’t help himself.

“You’re trouble,” you murmured, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

He smirked, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips. “You have no idea.”

The group around you continued to spiral into drunken hilarity, but you could barely focus. The warmth of Sam’s closeness and his bold flirting had your heart pounding in a way that even the vodka couldn’t numb.

The game continued in the background, but you and Sam had completely checked out. The vodka had dulled the edges of your thoughts, and the warmth of his body so close to yours was all-consuming. Every little move he made seemed intentional—the way his fingers brushed against your knee, the way his voice dropped just a little lower when he leaned in to speak to you.

“You know,” Sam murmured, his lips barely an inch from your ear, “I can’t decide if you’re ignoring me on purpose or if you’re just trying to drive me insane.”

You turned your head slightly to meet his eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Why not both?”

He chuckled, his gaze dropping to your lips briefly before snapping back up to your eyes. “You’re trouble,” he quoted you, his voice thick with something that made your stomach flip.

“And you’re repeating yourself,” you teased, leaning just a little closer, your noses almost touching now.

Meanwhile, the game carried on without you, though Tara seemed to notice your zoning out. “Uh, Y/N,” she called, laughing as she nudged a shot glass in your direction. “It’s your turn, by the way.”

You blinked, glancing around the circle, but Sam’s hand rested lightly on your thigh, and your focus immediately snapped back to him. The room around you blurred into irrelevance as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in the lightest, most teasing of kisses.

You froze for half a second before leaning into him, and suddenly, the light teasing kiss turned into something deeper, hotter. His hand slid up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. You barely registered the collective gasp from the room or the way the laughter faltered, giving way to a chorus of catcalls and cheers.

“Holy shit,” Matt finally said, breaking the spell as he waved a hand in front of him. “Get a room, OMG!”

The group burst into laughter, Tara clapping her hands together. “You go, girl!” she shouted, raising her glass in a mock toast.

Jake, still slumped against the couch, squinted at the two of you. “’M I seein’ things? Or are they…?”

“Nope, you’re seeing it,” Colby said, smirking. “It’s happening.”

You pulled back just slightly, your breath mingling with Sam’s as you both grinned at each other. His eyes were dark, full of heat and mischief, and he didn’t seem remotely fazed by the group’s reactions.

“You’re terrible,” you whispered, though the smile on your face betrayed your words.

“And you love it,” he shot back, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

Without saying another word, you stood up, grabbing his hand and tugging him to his feet. He followed you willingly, his grin wide and boyish as you led him toward the hallway.

“Where are they going?” Chris asked, though his voice was more amused than surprised.

“Where do you think?” Matt said, laughing as he leaned back on his hands.

Tara cupped her hands around her mouth like a megaphone. “Have fun, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Oh, please,” Colby said, shaking his head with a grin. “Remember to wrap the present!”

The room erupted into more laughter, and you turned back just long enough to shoot them a playful glare. Sam, however, just smirked, giving a little salute before following you down the hall.

You barely made it into Sam’s bedroom before his lips crashed against yours again, this time with even more urgency. He pushed the door shut behind him without breaking the kiss, his hands gripping your waist as if he were afraid you might slip away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice breathless and husky.

“Then stop wasting time,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

He groaned softly, his hands sliding down to your thighs. Before you could react, he lifted you effortlessly, pressing you firmly against the wall. The cool surface contrasted with the heat radiating from his body as he pressed his hips against yours, the growing hardness between his legs impossible to ignore.

You gasped at the sensation, your head tilting back slightly, giving him access to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Each touch of his lips sent sparks through you, and you couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped your lips.

“Fuck,” Sam whispered, pulling back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide. “You sound so beautiful.”

His words made your cheeks flush, but you didn’t have time to respond before his lips were on yours again, more demanding this time. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, while his hips rocked gently against yours, teasing you with just enough friction to make you want more.

“Sam,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he caught his breath. “You’re driving me crazy,” he admitted, his voice low and rough.

“Good,” you said with a smirk, your fingers threading through his hair.

He let out a soft laugh before stepping back from the wall, still holding you securely. He carried you over to the bed, laying you down gently as his hands brushed over your sides. The weight of his body over yours made your heart race, the heat between you nearly overwhelming.

Sam propped himself up on one arm, his free hand trailing along your side as his eyes raked over you. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said, his voice filled with awe.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, your hands tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Now, are you going to let me see more or just keep talking?”

He chuckled, sitting up just enough to yank his shirt over his head before tossing it to the floor. “Better?” he asked, grinning.

You reached up, your fingers skimming over his chest. “Much.”

He leaned down again, his lips capturing yours as his hands began to explore more boldly. Your hands moved to the hem of your sweater, but before you could pull it off, Sam stopped you.

“Let me,” he said, his voice a mix of command and plea.

You nodded, lifting your arms as he slowly pulled the sweater over your head, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you. He trailed kisses down your neck, his hands working their way to the waistband of your skirt.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he said softly, his voice sincere even as his desire was clear.

“I won’t,” you assured him, your fingers already tugging at the button of his jeans.

He groaned softly, helping you push them down as his lips found yours again. The rest of your clothes quickly followed, each piece discarded in a growing pile on the floor. The air between you was electric, every touch, every kiss stoking the fire building between you.

The room was dimly lit, bathed in a soft, golden hue from a nearby lamp. You could hear faint chatter and laughter from your friends in the living room, but here, in this quiet moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you. Sam’s gaze held yours, warm and intent, his lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and steady. The sincerity in his tone made your cheeks flush, and you found yourself shyly looking away, though the fluttering in your chest told you how much you appreciated it.

“Sam you‘re...” you started, your voice trailing off, but he gently tipped your chin back to meet his eyes.

“I mean it,” he insisted, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “Every bit of you. Everything.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and before you could respond, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss so tender it left you breathless. The room seemed to tilt as his warmth enveloped you, the closeness of him erasing every stray thought. His hands slid to your waist, grounding you as his lips began a gentle exploration, tracing from the corner of your mouth to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Sam,” you whimpered, a mixture of anticipation and disbelief in your voice.

He hummed softly in response, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed a kiss just beneath your jawline. His touch was slow, deliberate, as though he was savoring every second. His lips moved lower, tracing a path down your neck, pausing every so often to leave the softest kisses that sent shivers racing along your spine.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice cutting through the haze. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his brow furrowed in concern. “Tell me if this is too much.”

The tenderness in his expression nearly undid you. You nodded, your breath hitching. “I’m more than okay,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled at your reassurance, his confidence returning as he resumed his journey. Each kiss felt like a silent conversation, his care evident in every touch. When he reached the edge of your collarbone, he paused to look up at you again, as if seeking permission.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice laced with an earnest vulnerability that made your chest tighten.

You didn’t hesitate. “Always.”

That one word seemed to light something in him. He pressed his lips to your shoulder, then continued downward, his hands steadying you as you leaned back against the cushions. Time felt suspended as he traced the curve of your arms and sides with the same careful attention, his gaze flicking up to meet yours now and then, as if to ensure you were still with him.

The warmth of his presence, and the way he handled you with reverence, made it impossible to focus on anything but the moment. You couldn’t hold back the soft moans that escaped your lips, each one making his smile grow.

“I think I like this,” he teased lightly, his voice breaking the stillness. “Hearing you like this.”

You laughed softly, though the sound was shaky. “Don’t get too cocky.”

He chuckled, the vibration of it resonating against your skin as he placed another kiss over your sternum. “Too late.”

The sound of your friends’ laughter drifted through the door again, and you froze for a moment, suddenly aware of how thin the walls were. Sam noticed immediately, his lips pausing as he looked up with a grin.

“Worried they’ll hear?” he asked, his tone teasing but kind.

You shrugged, feeling self-conscious, your drunkness wore off as soon as Sam kissed you. “Maybe…”

He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Let them. They’ll just be jealous.”

You swatted his arm, laughing, and he grinned, the playful glint in his eyes making your heart race.

His breath was warm against your skin, and when he chuckled softly, it was as though the sound itself ignited something deep within you.

“You’re so sensitive here, Y/N,” he teased, his voice low and filled with affection. His lips pressed against the delicate curve of your neck again, and this time you couldn’t hold back the soft sigh that escaped your lips.

His hands traced down your arms before resting at your waist, grounding you as he continued his slow exploration. He didn’t rush, letting each kiss speak volumes as he moved lower, his lips brushing over the line of your collarbone.

“Sam...” you whimpered, unsure if it was a plea for him to slow down or to never stop.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with a mix of playfulness and intent. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

The nickname sent a rush of warmth through you, pooling low in your core. You shook your head, unable to form coherent words, and he grinned as if he knew exactly what you were feeling.

“Nothing? Alright,” he teased, his lips curling into a smirk. “I’ll just keep going, then.”

He shifted slightly, his hands moving up to your sides as his lips made their way to your chest. The first kiss he placed there was slow and deliberate, his lips soft against your skin. He took his time, letting his hands trace gentle patterns over your back as he moved lower. Your breath hitched as he kissed along the curve of your tits and sucked on your nipples, each touch deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. His hands joined in, brushing over your sides before settling, strong and steady, as he leaned in closer.

“Sam...” you moaned again, your voice trembling.

“Still with me?” he asked, pausing to meet your gaze. His expression was soft, full of affection and care.

You nodded, unable to do much else. “Always.”

That was all he needed. He leaned back down, letting his lips travel further, pressing kisses along your stomach. Every touch sent shivers through you, each kiss slower than the last as if he was committing every inch of you to memory.

When he reached your thighs, he paused, his hands steadying you as he looked up once more. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity.

And then he continued, his lips tracing down the length of your thigh before moving to the other. You felt your breath falter, your heart racing as he inched closer, his movements purposeful but never rushed.

“Sam...” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat.

“Hmm?” He glanced up at you with a grin, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“That feels... so good,” you admitted, your words tumbling out unguarded.

“Good,” he said, his grin widening.

When he finally closed the distance, his touch was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Every movement was deliberate, every moment focused entirely on you. You couldn’t hold back the soft moans that escaped you as he sucked and licked on your clit. You were sure he spelled the lyrics of jingle bells with his tongue.

“You sound so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice full of admiration.

His words made your chest tighten with emotion, and you reached down, your fingers brushing against his hair as if to anchor yourself. He worked with a focus that left you breathless, his touch and his presence leaving you completely undone.

Your mind was a haze of warmth and light, and you could feel that familiar pressure building in your core, coiling tighter with each passing second.

“Sam,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “I’m so close... don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He gave his best performance, his movements unrelenting yet tender, and when the knot finally unraveled, the wave of release left you trembling beneath him, your breath coming in loud moans.

As you came down from your high, your breathing still uneven, you reached for Sam, pulling him up to meet you. His lips found yours instantly, soft and warm, grounding you as the aftershocks still coursed through your body.

“You’re the best,” he whispered between kisses, his voice thick with awe.

A playful grin tugged at your lips as you broke the kiss, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Now,” you said, your voice teasing, “let’s wrap this present, shall we?”

Sam froze for a moment, then let out a laugh that rumbled through his chest. “Quoting Colby? Now? Really?”

You smirked. “Seemed fitting.”

His laughter softened into a grin, but there was no mistaking the intensity in his gaze as his hand trailed over your side. “Alright then.”

Without wasting a second, he leaned over to the nightstand, pulling it open to retrieve a condom. He glanced at you as if asking for silent permission, holding it up with a raised brow. You took it from him with a confidence that surprised even you, tearing the foil carefully. Sam’s breath hitched as your hands brushed against his cock, his lips parting slightly when you began to roll it down his length.

“You’re going to kill me,” he murmured, his voice unsteady, a low groan escaping his lips as your touch lingered.

You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him again, slow and deliberate. “You’re being dramatic,” you teased, though your own heart was racing at the intensity of the moment.

When you pulled back, Sam cupped your face, his expression softening. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked tonight, but you could see how much it mattered to him to hear your answer again.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice steady and clear. “Absolutely.”

His smile was gentle, almost reverent, as he kissed you again, his hands steadying you as he moved closer. The anticipation was electric, every touch heightened as you felt him align himself with you.

And then, with infinite care, he pressed forward, his eyes never leaving yours as he slid his cock in, his movements slow and deliberate. The tension between you and Sam was electric, both of you moving in sync, the shared rhythm of your body a language of its own. Each thrust, each moan seemed to draw you closer, until you could feel the heat of his skin, the weight of his presence in ways that made everything else fade into the background. Sam moaned softly, his grip on you tightening, his movements slow but intense. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

You gasped, your own body responding with a heat that only deepened with every touch. “Sam, you fill me up so well,” you whispered, your words breathless but filled with awe.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through your chest. “You’re killing me, Y/N,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re so perfect.”

The connection between you both felt like it was building to something beyond words. You felt it in every kiss, every touch, and every movement that seemed to echo the urgency and intensity of the moment. Without any warning, something in you shifted. A quiet challenge passed between your eyes as you changed positions, now hovering above him. The change in power felt electric, and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the shift in dynamics.

Sam’s hands gripped your hips, his eyes dark with admiration and something deeper. “Fuck Y/N,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smiled down at him, your breath coming in shallow gasps. “Not yet,” you teased, your own heart racing as you took control, moving with a rhythm that made everything else blur.

The room was filled with the sounds of both your breaths—labored and urgent—and the shared moments of quiet connection, where every glance and every touch said more than words could express. As the two of you moved together, the world outside seemed to fade away. The room was filled only with the sounds of your breaths and moans. Your heartbeats echo in time with each movement. The tension between you both was palpable, a steady rhythm that drew you closer with every touch.

You leaned down, pressing your lips to Sam’s. The kiss was slow and deep, a reflection of everything you felt in that moment. Your body trembled, the connection between you both growing stronger with every passing second.

“I’m so fucking close, Sam,” you whispered, your voice breathless, the words escaping without thought.

Sam’s eyes locked with yours, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Me too, baby. Cum for me” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. You let yourself go with loud moans

Sam groaned beneath you, his grip tightening slightly as he followed you with his release. You collapsed against his chest, your body still shaking with the remnants of your shared moment.

For a few seconds, there was nothing but the steady beat of your heart and the sound of your heavy breath filling the quiet room. You rested there, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you, a peaceful warmth wrapping around you both.

“That was…” you started, your voice trailing off as you tried to find the words.

“Incredible,” Sam finished for you, his voice warm, full of sincerity. He gently stroked your hair, the movement tender as he held you close.

You could hear the laughter from your friends in the other room, a soft reminder that life continued outside this moment.

But then, unexpectedly, a loud voice cut through the air.

“OMG, finally! I can enjoy my pizza! Well, that wasn’t such a silent night for you two!” Nick’s voice boomed from the living room, his words a little slurred, but unmistakable.

You and Sam both froze for a moment, exchanging a glance before you both bursted out in laughs “Seems like we woke Nick up from his drunk slumber,” you said, still laughing.

Sam grinned, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “Looks like it,” he chuckled. “At least he’s got his priorities straight.”

The two of you laughed together, the awkwardness fading into something lighthearted, a shared moment that somehow made everything feel more real.

As the sounds of your friends’ laughter mixed with the muffled sounds of Nick's pizza indulgence from the living room, you settled into the quiet, peaceful feeling of the moment, knowing that things had shifted, but in the best way.

[thenickgirl]

insta posts

bsf!nick x blackgirl!reader (part two)

okay so some of y’all were wanting more, and i was happy to oblige. still just winging this shit btw 💕

inspired by own unhealthy delusions 😘✌🏾

part one

warnings: cursing

justy/n: i let chris dress me

liked by nicolassturniolo

christophersturniolo: W move

-> justy/n: real, i’m obsessed with these pants kid

nicolassturniolo: yessss bestie bae

matthew.sturniolo: L fit, i would’ve done better

-> justy/n: alexa play jealousy jealousy

luverboychris: 🫳 gimmie the fit

nicolassturniolo: bathroom mirror kinda cool idk

liked by justy/n

christophersturniolo: bro there’s so much going on

justy/n: ARF ARF ARF 😍

-> nicolassturniolo: LMAOAOA you’re actually insane 💗

matthew.sturniolo: chicken strips

-> nicolassturniolo: what 😭

-> matthew.sturniolo: i didn’t know what to say

justy/n: tfw your bestie filmed with your favorite youtubers and didn’t invite you #blocked

liked by nicolassturniolo

nicolassturniolo: cause i knew you were busy!!!

nicolassturniolo: unblock me hoe!!

-> justy/n: NO

christophersturniolo: i wanted to tell you, but they wouldn’t let me!

-> justy/n: chris, you’re my only friend, now give sam my number 😈

-> christophersturniolo: bet!

-> matthew.sturniolo: CHRIS! 😨

muwapsturniolo: YOU WATCH SAM AND COLBY??

nicolassturniolo: i’m the burger bot 🤖

liked by justy/n

justy/n: it’s the way you didn’t offer me any..

-> nicolassturniolo: i’ll buy you as many burgers as you want

-> justy/n: forgiven 🫱🏾‍🫲🏼

guccifrog: yes but was the burger good?

matthew.sturniolo: burger bot is stupid

-> nicolassturniolo: your mom!

-> christophersturniolo: WE HAVE THE SAME MOM!!!

nicolassturniolo: 🕶️

liked by justy/n

justy/n: WHAT SHDFHCJFNCM

justy/n: can someone help me off this floor? 😍❤️‍🔥

-> nicolassturniolo: STOP ILY

matthew.sturniolo: 🔥

christophersturniolo: bro killed it

justy/n: hi i’m back again 🧍🏾‍♀️

-> nicolassturniolo: 😭 bitch i love you!

nickuniversity: it’s a good day to be a nick girl

justy/n: nothing felt cute might delete later

liked by nicolassturniolo

mattslolita: so pretty wtf 😍

christophersturniolo: can i raid your fridge?

-> justy/n: chris wtf 😭

nicolassturniolo: so absolutely gorgeous i can’t 😍

matthew.sturniolo: i already screenshot it

-> justy/n: what?

-> matthew.sturniolo: huh?

-> christophersturniolo: what?

-> nicolassturniolo: WHAT THE FUCK?

tagsss: @muwapsturniolo @guccifrog @luverboychris @mattslolita @demistyles @matty-bear @ohmtoff @nicksmainbitch @patscorner @soursturniolo @sturnioloshacker @freshloveforthefit @angelcake-222 @a13ssandr4 @sukiipjs

[annefolklore]

WAIT WAIT WAITTTT. BESTFRIEND!ETHANLANDRY X READER BUT HE GETS HER PREGO AND HE LIVES AND BEGS TO BE FORGIVEN🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽I BEG

yes its me. the one who wants more, but my birthdays in 2 hours tho (may10) SCREAMING

“Please”

Pairing: Bsf!Ethan Landry x Reader

Warnings: Possible spoilers from Scream 6, use of Y/N, D/N is for daughter’s name

Synopsis: Ethan and you were friends with benefits until he reveals his true identity. Even after all this, he survives and begs to be apart of the baby and your life

It’s been a year.

A year since you last saw his face. A year since everything crumbled apart around you.

It all happened so fast but so slowly at the same time. One moment you guys were in his bed making out and a second later, you were in the shrine while Ghostface was taking off his mask to reveal curly brown hair.

You didn’t want to believe it at first, thinking it was all a nightmare because why would your bestfriend with benefits be behind all this mess? He looked at Tara and Sam first and when his eyes laid on your face, his cruel expression softened for a few seconds like he was apologetic before getting back to his cruel self…But it all looked fake.

At this moment, you wanted to cry. Bawl your eyes out as you asked yourself a single question.

“Did he wanted to add these benefits only to take advantage of me before killing me?”

This question haunts you day and night ever since discovering who was behind the mask-

A high pitched cry interrupted your thoughts and you sighed as you stood up from the couch.

After you had rocked her in your arms for what seemed like an eternity with her cries echoing in your ears, she had finally found again some sleep, but still kept her in your arms.

At one point, the doorbell rang throughout the appartement.

You quickly walked toward the door. It was probably Chad, Sam or Tara

“Hi-" you begin but the greeting die in your throat as you immediately recognize who was at the door.

That wasn’t Chad, Sam or Tara…no it was an undead.

He haven’t changed much except for his hair that got a bit longer and his gaze wasn’t as innocent as it pretended to be before. Now it was dry without an ounce of joy…until he laid eyes on your daughter

Our daughter.

Did he noticed how much she looked like him? She has the same tuft of curly hair, same eyes, nose and the same smile that could make anyone’a heart melt.

“Good evening Y/N” he greets you and tried to make a soft smile.

It’s like you snapped out of my trance and everything that happened twirled inside your head. Anika, Quinn, Gale, the core 4. Every memories came back like a tsunami of thoughts.

“Stay back” you muttered as I walked backwards.

Your hold on D/N increased a bit and he noticed the way your hold her even closer to you. His eyes were filled with an apologetic and ashamed look.

Ashamed of himself.

“Please just listen to me” he begs as he takes a step toward you.

You didn’t stop walking backwards as my head was making the “no” side over and over again until your calves touched the couch.

This couldn’t be real right? This couldn’t be happening right now.

“I know I fucked up and you have every reason to hate me…but please just listen to what I have to say” he says again with a pleading look in his eyes.

He hesitated. You couldn’t risk D/N safety around someone like him, but curiosity got the better of you. Telling the core 4 about his return would be a mistake too, because they’ll kill him and you’ll never know what he wanted

So you made the safest option and you let him enter your appartement. It was like letting the wolf enter the lamb’s home.

Your index pointed the couch and he sat down as you demanded him to. Meanwhile, you went to your daughter’s bedroom to put her in her sleeping self in the crib.

If his intentions were still wicked, at least she wouldn’t be in the same room and you prayed he wouldn’t hurt her after killing you.

“You have ten minutes” you acknowledged him and sat at the opposite side of the couch.

“Thank you”

Ethan found the need to say that before beginning anything. You made a small nod and he began talking.

“First of all, I want you to know that I never wanted to do all that-" but you interrupted him.

“But you still did it Ethan! You lied and-" this time he interrupted you

“Please let me speak” he said as he sighed. “I did all this so my dad could actually find me interesting. Ever since I was a child it was always Richie, the perfect son. The one who got all of my dad’s attention after my mother died. If it wasn’t him that was being praised, it was Quinn. She’s the first daughter and the oldest twin. Quinn has always been a daddy’s-little-girl and she became the favourite child after our brother’s death.”

He explain. Ethan took a deep breath before continuing.

“But what about Ethan Bailey? I was only the youngest, the baby of the family that nobody acknowledged. After Richie died, Wayne started treat me like Richie and I enjoyed the sudden attention…until he asked me to be a Ghostface. I hesitated a long time, but accepted because I thought that if maybe I did like Richie he would love me more”

You were speechless as he spilled all this at you.

“But you came along and we began our benefits relationship- and oh you don’t know how much I hated myself at this time-" but you interrupted him again

“This doesn’t explain how you survived and found me”

He almost chuckled at your eager of answers, but this wasn’t something to laugh at.

“The tv only hit my head, but it didn’t damage anything, it only made me black out for a few” he explained “Fortunately, I woke up the same moment cops showed up and I successfully slipped through their fingers”

He hesitated before continued his story. “Now you’re gonna find me weird” he sigh

“I already find you weird, just say what you were about to” you say

“I found where you lived because I looked for you and the core 4” he spited out

“You stalked us” You say more as a statement than a question.

“No I looked for you, I didn’t stalk you…and if I didn’t I would’ve never found out that we have a daughter”

Ethan chose not to say that he followed you almost everyday to know that got where you needed to be safely.

A silent went in between both of you. You couldn’t believe what you were doing. Ghostface was right in front of you and you were having a cordial conversation with him. What would the others think?

“Can I ask you a question?” you breath out.

Ever since he got here, the question has been burning your tongue. He nodded and you asked it in a small voice “Did you agree to level up our friendship only to take advantage of me?”

He frowned at your sentence. He never imagined once that you would feel like that

“Y/N of course not. I’m not some kind of monster…”

“But I still don’t know if I can trust you Ethan…after everything”

Ethan pursed his lips together and looked at the ground. “Please, I will do whatever it takes”

“I don’t know…” you whispered and stood up as you sigh and he stand up too.

He made small steps toward you and when you didn’t pushed him away, he took your much smaller hands in his with a pleading look. “Please Y/N, you’re the only one I knew wouldn’t kill me if I shewed up”

“How do you know I won’t kill you” you say, attempting to scare him but it didn’t work one bit. You knew damn well you weren’t going to kill him.

“Please, I promise to never do anything stupid again” he pleads as he looked into your eyes.

His gaze was full of sorrow and regret while yours were uncertain. Ethan noticed how tense you were and did the first thing that came to his mind.

His knees soon touched the ground and he began the beg even more. “Please Y/N, I cannot live knowing you hate me. I accept the core 4, but please not you. You’re my best friend and I love you so much”

His voice was cracking as he spoke and his hands that were still holding you began to shake. “I even started therapy and I could get a psychologist too if that would make you happy and feel safe around me”

Tears blurs your sights as you listened to his promises. Maybe you should give him a chance after all…

“I’m so sorry for everything” his sentence full of his teary voice as he cried. “I won’t ever do something bad again. I’ll make you happy everyday Y/N and if you allowed me too I would make our daughter happy”

Your appartement was filled with his pleading and his cry and after all, the wolf was revealed to be as soft as a lamb.

———-

I hope you liked what I wrote for your request and happy birthday @scqr6m ! This was really long to write and I tried posting it yesterday for your birthday but because of school I couldn’t 😭And also you can choose the daughter’s name since I did this for your birthday.

This is unfortunately a one time thing, because I don’t want people to lie about their birthdays so I write them something. I did this for her because it was my first serious request so yeah

I hope you guys liked it and English isn’t my first language but I tried my best to make it make sense.

[jkchampsz]

Under the influence - Ethan Landry

Paring: bsf! Ethan x virgin! Reader

Contains/warnings: drunk! Reader, making out, dry humping, mention of loss of virginity

Summary: You get really drunk and your best friend Ethan offers to take you home…

You were drunk. You had gone to a party with your friends—Ethan, Tara, Mindy, Anika, Quinn, Sam, and Chad—and drank more than you intended. Since your roommate was out of town, Ethan offered to take you home.

You were stumbling slightly as you leaned against Ethan for support. The party had started to wind down, and your friends were scattered around, but your focus was on Ethan, who was trying to get you home.

“I don’t wanna go home yet,” you slurred, holding onto his arm as he tried to pull away.

Ethan chuckled softly, his hand resting gently on your back. “You need to get some rest, you’ve had enough for one night.”

“But I’m not tired,” you protested, your voice a little whiny as you pouted. “I wanna stay… just a little longer.”

Ethan smiled but shook his head. “No more partying for you. Let’s get you home.”

“Ughh you’re so boring.” You slur out.

Chuckling, he turned to face you fully, his hands steadying you on your feet. “Come on, uber’s here.”

“Noooo.” You whine as he drags you to the car.

Ethan ignores your whining, opening the car door and gently pushing you inside. He slides in next to you, giving the driver your address. You cross your arms and pout, making Ethan roll his eyes.

The car ride wasn’t long. Once the car stops, Ethan pays the driver and gets out, opening your door for you. He helps you out, keeping a firm grip on your arm to prevent you from stumbling. “Let’s get you inside.”

Ethan leads you inside, his arm around your waist as he supports your weight. He fumbles with the keys for a moment before getting the door open. Once inside, he sits you on the couch, and sits next to you.

“Thank youuu Eth.” You say as you lay your head on his shoulder.

Ethan smiles, placing a gentle hand on your head. "No problem, that's what friends are for."

“I’ve never drinked this much before,” you laugh.

"Clearly," Ethan chuckles, his fingers playing with your hair. "You're usually not this drunk." He pauses, looking down at you.

You look at him, and something hits different… It’s like you want to kiss him.

The way you're looking at him makes him tense up. His breath catches in his throat as he looks back at you. "You should probably get some rest," he murmurs, his voice low and gentle.

Maybe it’s the alcohol making you want this, but right now you don’t care, you just need to kiss him. So you do.

Ethan's eyes widen in surprise as your lips meet his. For a moment, he freezes, unsure of how to react. But then, something inside him snaps. His hand reaches up, cupping the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, pressing you back against the couch.

The kiss Is drunk and sloppy, you try to kiss back as much as you can.

The kiss is messy, filled with the taste of alcohol and desire. Ethan's other hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer as he tries to keep up with your enthusiastic kisses. His breathing grows heavier, and he pulls back slightly, panting. "Fuck," he whispers, his forehead resting against yours.

You slowly start catching up your breath. “Ethan…“

Ethan's eyes meet yours, his gaze soft and tender. "Yeah?" he asks, his voice low and gentle. He wants to kiss you again but he knows it’s wrong because you’re drunk.

You can’t help but look at his lips and try to kiss him again.

His lips meet yours once more, but this time he pulls back almost immediately, his hands gripping your shoulders to keep some distance between you. "You're drunk," he murmurs against your lips, trying to catch his breath.

“But-“

"No," he whispers firmly but gently, placing a finger against your lips. "Not like this. Not when you can't even stand straight." His hand moves to cup your cheek. "When you kiss me again, I want you to really mean it, not because you've had too much to drink."

“But I really mean it.” You say.

Ethan releases a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly as he keeps a steady gaze on you. "Even if you do mean it now, you won't remember much of tonight when you sober up," he says softly into your hair.

“Please Ethan…” you say and kiss him again.

Ethan's resolve weakens as you kiss him again, your lips soft and warm against his. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't resist you when you're like this. He kisses you back, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Fuck, you're making this so hard,"

“Mmhh” you moan into the kiss and move so you’re straddling his lap.

Ethan's breath hitches as you straddle him, his hands automatically moving to grip your hips. He kisses you harder, a low groan escaping him as he feels your body pressed against his. But even in his arousal, he tries to hang onto the last vestiges of his resolve. "Wait, wait,"

“Mmh noo” you start kissing his neck and start grinding your hips against him.

Ethan's resolve shatters as you start kissing his neck and grinding against him. He lets out a desperate gasp, his hands tightening on your hips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Mmh Ethan” you moan in pleasure.

His breath catches in his throat at your breathy moan of his name. He knows this is wrong but all logical thoughts are fading. One hand moves up to tangle in your hair, pulling your lips back to his while the other supports your grinding hips. "We shouldn't..." he pants between kisses.

“Ethan… I want you to be my first.” You confess.

Every muscle in his body tenses at your confession. He pulls back immediately, despite every fiber of his being screaming at him to continue. "No," he says firmly, though his voice is thick with desire. "Not tonight. Not like this." He gently but firmly removes your hands from his neck.

“Why not?”

Ethan takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "Because you're drunk and you don't know what you're saying," he says gently, cupping your face in his hands.

He sees the confusion and disappointment in your eyes, and it pains him greatly. But he knows he's making the right decision, even if his body disagrees. “Come on, let’s take you to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

[emeraldelixirs]

Bloodsport {II:when the party’s over}

bsf! m. riddle x fem!sallow!reader, stepbrother! t. nott x fem!sallow!reader

Bound by Blood, Betrayed by Fate. When you’re dragged to Malfoy Manor under orders from Voldemort himself, you learn the price of your mother’s mistakes: an Unbreakable Vow, tethering your life to the deranged Bellatrix Lestrange. Forced to navigate a web of dark magic, family debts, and impossible expectations, you must tread carefully in a house brimming with enemies—and a few familiar faces. As tensions rise and the lines between loyalty and survival blur, one question remains: will you find a way to break free, or will you lose yourself to the darkness?

Content warnings: 18+ themes, angst, dark, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, blood, swearing, fighting, taboo themes, underage coercion, predatory behavior, suggestive content, underage recreational drug and alcohol use, typical canon HP themes of blood purity, house prejudices, oppression, lmk if I miss anything this chapter is considerably lengthy with detail

Word count: 8k oops

A/n: is it really a slytherin fic if it doesn’t have a party scene? sorta hehe sorry. but we have the whole gang together in this, and that’s why i love this part sm, easily so far my pride and joy of what i have written for this fic. also collectively the longest chapter ive ever written for any fic ive wrote…ever. banter and comedic relief is really my bread and butter

[playlist: televised—hunny, bite my tongue—you me at six, softcore—the neighbourhood, do i wanna know—arctic monkeys, kyoto—phone bridgers, people—the 1975, fourth of july—sufjan stevens, when the party’s over-from the room below—sleep token, seventeen going under—sam fender]

<< previous part >>

The Zabini Villa roared with laughter, loud chatter, and throbbing music that seemed to make the very walls vibrate. Judging by the unfamiliar faces crowding every room, this party had spiraled well past its original circle of Hogwarts pure-bloods like Blaise had originally intended for. You and Theo wove through the throng, his large, warm hand secured at the small of your back, guiding you gently while you led the way.

“There’s no way all these people are from Hogwarts,” Theo quipped, batting away a gaudy streamer that dangled in front of his face.

“Merlin, no,” you muttered, forcing a polite smile at Millicent Bulstrode as she brushed by, then reverting to a frown once she was gone. “Everyone must sense this might be the last Zabini bash they’ll ever see.”

And perhaps they were right. The Daily Prophet had plastered the story across its front page at the end of term: the Department of Mysteries debacle was conclusive proof that Voldemort was back. The second wizarding war had begun to weave its dark tendrils into daily life, pulling you—and your friends—deeper into roles none of you wanted. Now, your presence at this party felt less like revelry and more like obligation. But among the upper-inner circles you roamed, appearances were everything still. You and your friends had a carefully maintained status quo, and no looming war would undo that overnight.

Not that you were simply a carefree teen. You were also Bellatrix’s pawn: the one she nudged around the board, using you to lure secrets from the gullible, offering your company to the wavering. You tried not to dwell on that as you made a beeline for the kitchens, your chest feeling tight beneath the weight of her instructions.

“The less your peers know, the better,” she’d sneered earlier that week, pacing in the Malfoy Manor drawing room.

“We may never know who might have vital information—on their family, their loyalties, their resources…” Her cold eyes had narrowed on you, a grimace of satisfaction twisting her features.

“Do you understand, girl?”

“Yes… Mistress,” you’d been forced to concede, swallowing your hatred.

Now the memory fluttered through your head as you stepped into Blaise’s expansive kitchen. You exhaled, relieved at the relative calm. Maybe you could breathe easier here, at least for a moment.

“C’mon, let’s get a drink,” Theo said, noticing the faraway look in your eyes. He maneuvered around you, snagging two cups from an array of colorful bottles lined across the counters.

To your mild surprise, the kitchen wasn’t packed—only a handful of people rummaged for snacks or chattered over glasses of spiked punch. The music, mercifully, was less ear-splitting.

You leaned against the moss agate countertop, the cool surface grounding you. Theo’s presence was a balm, as it always had been. You’d known him since infancy, your mothers having been close friends long before war divided loyalties. And his father—your now stepfather—had become a mentor to your own father before his untimely death.

Theo had been there for every moment that mattered: the good, the bad, the life-altering. Neither of you wore icy apathy like a shield towards one another; instead, your shared experiences had created an unspoken understanding. A bond as unshakable as it was fraught.

A hand slid around your shoulder, making you jump.

“Oi,” Daphne Greengrass said, lips quirking into a half-smile. “So jumpy. Relax—it��s a party.”

You forced a semblance of a grin, tension dissolving a fraction when you saw it was just her. “Daph…”

She pressed a friendly kiss to your cheek, eyes darting between you and Theo. “Where in Salazar’s name have you two been? Blaise is losing his mind—he’s about ready to hex the pair of you for being late.”

She didn’t know half of it since this was the first time you’d seen her since summer began; how Bellatrix had forced you into an unbreakable vow; how Theo had been dragged into the Dark Lord’s fold with no way out. War loomed in every corner, and Daphne, blissfully unaware, was closer to its claws than she realized. And you hadn’t been sure you wanted her to know, terribly naive, too pure for the mud you and the other rolled around in now.

You shrugged lightly, deflecting. “Busy summer.”

She jabbed a finger at you, pouting. “More importantly, where have my letters gone?! I wrote you heaps!”

You flinched. She pulled away, stepping around the island to give Theo a quick squeeze and a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You do realize our father’s in Azkaban currently?” Theo replied for you, tone sharper than usual, though that never deterred Daphne.

“And?” she retorted, placing her hands on her hips. “A simple note to tell me you’re fine would’ve been comforting, you git.”

Theo set his jaw, a flicker of apology in his eyes. “Right. Sorry.”

You parted your lips to intervene, but Daphne continued chastising Theo, her exasperation morphing into mild relief that both of you were safe. Then launching into her usual Daphne updates, like a beat wasn’t missed: an outfit she saw that reminded her of you, the gossip she heard—that you too should have known—since school ended, or where her family was choosing to stay for holiday.

Somewhere in her mini-lecture, she casually mentioned:

“Oh, and watch out—someone said Lord Rosier’s nephew, Evander, is here tonight, skulking around somewhere. You know the Rosiers, always up to something… shady.” Then she held her arm as she twirled a piece of her honey blond hair, thoughtfully. Then adding in, “though I remember him being so handsome back in first year—shame.”

An internal pang reminded you of the other very real reason you were here—to attempt to gain information from any possible prominent names in attendance. Her offhand comment sent your thoughts spiraling because this was, if not, the biggest prominent name on the list of contacts Bellatrix had talked about. The Rosiers were an influential pure-blood family, their allegiances as ambiguous as they were dangerous. If Evander was here, he might have information Bellatrix would find valuable.

You masked your interest, offering a polite nod. Inside, determination sparked more than it ever had since you were pushed into task. If you could pry even a shred of intel from Evander, it might buy you some breathing room—enough to finish your summer coursework without Bellatrix breathing down your neck. Even for a week? Then you could surely spend the rest of summer doing her bidding, or gods knows what, and maybe hold together your sanity?

“Need to… use the bathroom,” you excused yourself, ignoring Daphne’s frown of confusion. Theo’s gaze lingered on you, sharp and knowing. But he let it go, turning back to placate Daphne.

Your mind thrummed: Find Evander. Ask the right questions. Remember Bellatrix’s instructions. Your stomach twisted in equal parts excitement and dread. This had been it—a moment to prove yourself.

You scourged the main corridors of the party, narrowly dodging your friends and peers, with no sign of the infamous wizard yet.

Did you even remember what he looked like?

Finally giving up on the obvious, you slipped into a hallway that led away from the main commotion. Passing ornate paintings and the occasional couple giggling in corners towards the back wing of the villa, you found a partially open door—likely Blaise’s mother’s study or personal lounge. Light spilled through the crack of the sturdy mahogany door with noise of man humming lightly.

You took a breath, moving slowly to peak through the ajar door.

A tall, slender wizard with sharp cheekbones and slicked-back hair leaned against a sideboard, swirling a glass of brandy. It was him—Evander Rosier, you had remembered him from when he attended Hogwarts faintly now. He was in 6th year when you had only first been sorted, but you remembered his distinctive features anywhere. He was the head boy for Slytherin by his 7th, with a gleaming smile, and dimpled cheeks that made all the girls swoon.

Not you though, you weren’t easily charmed with looks, even when people thought of you to think different. Veelas or those with Veela lineage held ideologies that vastly contrasted the stereotype, but that may have been something your mother had just told you. You never met her side of the family or knew much besides they disowned her when she married your father.

Taking a deep breath, you took a baited one right after, faking a casual stroll into the room, glancing behind your shoulder for anyone that may have seen. The space was richly decorated with dark wood shelves, a looming portrait of some Zabini ancestor, and a deep emerald rug that muffled your footsteps.

Evander glanced up when you entered, eyebrows raised in mild curiosity. “Can I help you?” he asked, not unkindly, but distant.

You summoned your best coy grin. “Oh, sorry—I was looking for a quieter spot.” You let your gaze trail meaningfully over the spines of expensive books, then back to him. “Didn’t realize someone was here.”

He shrugged, taking another sip. “I don’t care for crowds. You can stay if you’d like.”

Perfect. You let out a soft sigh, stepping closer. “Crowds can be suffocating, can’t they?” you said, letting just the right note of empathy creep into your voice. “Especially these days, with the rumors swirling… people are so on edge.”

He gave a short laugh, swirling the brandy again. “Rumors. Right.” His eyes darted to the door. “Though some rumors are more than that, if you catch my drift.”

Your heart gave a little leap. This was going somewhere. “I do,” you murmured, feigning a shadow of concern. “Everyone’s talking about… you know, Him. People say families might be forced to pick a side again.”

He stiffened slightly. “And do you have a side, Miss…?”

You offered a small, self-deprecating laugh, hand pressed lightly to your collarbone in a subtle attempt to seem compelling. “Selle.” You opt for your mother’s maiden name. “I’m just a young witch, worried about my future, about where my family stands. It’s all so uncertain. Forgive me if I overstep.”

His expression softened slightly. “Curiosity isn’t a sin, Miss Selle. But it’s a dangerous habit to cultivate these days.”

You forced a bashful smile, letting your lashes flutter—just as Bellatrix had drilled into you. “I only ask because… I want to be prepared. For whatever’s coming.”

His gaze flicked over you, lingering for a moment too long, and a knowing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Preparedness is admirable. But it can also attract… unwanted attention.” He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “Are you sure we haven’t met before? You seem… familiar.”

He thinks I’m flirting, you realized with a jolt of disgust. But you pressed on. If you wanted these secrets, you had to endure the creeping slime of his interest, you reminded yourself of your training with Bellatrix.

Your throat tightened, and your pulse quickened. “I don’t think so,” you replied, aiming for nonchalance. “But perhaps you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

“Perhaps,” he mused, though his eyes betrayed lingering doubt. He reached out, brushing a knuckle against your shoulder—a gesture that made your skin crawl, though you resisted the urge to recoil and continued to flutter your lashes up at him.

“How are you preparing for the inevitable…forgive me,” you touched his arm, thoughtfully. “I hadn’t caught your name yet?”

He studied you, the softened sharpness of doubt in his eye dissipating as he stared at you. “Evander Rosier,” he said, dazed. “My uncle’s always forging alliances, scouting alternative avenues. Now that the Ministry’s rattled…” A dopey like smirk curved his lips?

That was interesting—unexpectedly your charm had begun to work. You forced your expression to remain neutral, your mind racing to process what he’d just revealed. “Alternative avenues,” you echoed, letting the words hang in the air. “Like… trade alliances? Resource management?”

His fingers trailed down your arm slowly. “We’re… considering our options. With the Ministry in disarray, alliances are fragile. It’s a precarious time for everyone.” The closer he stayed, the more his cologne hit you like a wall of acrid fumes, sharp and cloying, filling the air between you with an almost suffocating intensity.

“But you have the resources,” you pressed, letting a trace of awe color your voice, though you upturned your nose avoiding his heady overpowering musk. “The foresight. Surely the Rosiers aren’t relying on chance.”

He chuckled softly, the sound devoid of humor. “Chance is a fool’s game. Let’s just say we’re exploring alternative avenues. Not everyone sees eye-to-eye with the Dark Lord’s methods, you know.”

You nodded in understanding. “Your family must be analytical. I envy that, mine can be so naive and misled, never seeing the bigger picture.” A scoff to feign disdain.

“You’re quite inquisitive, Miss Selle. Should I be worried you’ll pass on every word I say to some rival faction?” A charming smile donned his features as he teased you.

You bit your lip, acting as if you were being bashful. “Oh, hush,” you said lightly, playing coy. “I just want to know where the wind blows. For my own safety.”

The air weighed heavy, and you felt a flush of shame. But you forced a sweet smile until he relaxed again, rambling about his relatives’ hush-hush business deals and doubts about the Dark Lord. You caught snatches of who they might recruit, how they planned to hide assets, all the while your heartbeat thundered at your success.

Eventually, he glanced at the time and frowned. “I’ve got to mingle. But perhaps we’ll talk again?” He grabbed your hand, brushing your knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

You swallowed your revulsion. “I would hope, Mr. Rosier.”

“You’re surprisingly… charming,” he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, as he brought your hand to his lips, kissing your hand.

You forced a tight smile, leaning into his touch just enough to keep the illusion intact. “Likewise,” you murmured, stepping back to break the contact. “I should probably get back as well. My friends will start wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”

Evander’s smile widened, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. “Of course. Do take care, Miss Selle. The world is a dangerous place for the… unprepared.”

With that, he tipped his glass in a mock salute and slipped out of the study without another word. You waited a moment before you made your way out of the room, your chest tight and your mind racing. The information he’d shared was valuable, no doubt—but the cost of acquiring it had left a bitter taste in your mouth. A mixture of triumph and nausea churned in your stomach. You’d gleaned valuable info—Bellatrix would be pleased. But the cost felt steep.

Emerging from the study, you felt shaky, so you snatched a drink from a passing tray and downed it in one go. You nearly bumped into Pansy, who’d apparently been looking for you.

“There you are!” she scolded, linking your arm with hers. “We’re headed to the veranda for fresh air—Blaise wants to smoke.”

Her eyes lit on your face, puzzling over your unsettled expression. “Are you… okay?”

You forced a bright grin. “Sure, yeah. Just… too many people in there.”

But your hands trembled slightly, and Pansy noticed. She frowned. “You’re sure?”

Before you could answer, Daphne’s voice floated over, calling, “Y/n, there you are! Was the toilet enchanted and sucked you in?” She stopped short, noticing your stiff posture. “What’s going on?”

They both stared at you with that worry in their eyes. They didn’t know the half of it—how deep you and the others were entangled in the Dark Lord’s web.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, plastering on a wry smile. “This place is packed. I had to go all the way to the other side of the house to use Blaise’s personal bathroom, the line was so long. Got cornered by some ex-Slytherin alumni, talking my ear off on the way back.”

Daphne’s brows rose. “You? Getting cornered by random men? Never.” She tried to sound playful, but her eyes flickered with concern. “Ugh, well, you’re safe now, with us.”

You almost winced, remembering how you’d endured the man’s touch and questions just minutes ago. But you just shrugged it off. Keep the mask on, you reminded yourself, following your friends closely through the throng of wizards and witches.

Inwardly, you clung to the swirl of relief. The idea of being surrounded by your close friends, you could put on your old persona again—just a teenage witch out for a good time—never mind the dark secrets burning a hole in your mind.

After edging away from the house’s main hall, you emerged onto a white stone veranda that stretched grandly across the villa’s rear façade. Tall, dark mahogany beams framed the space like silent guardians, while beyond them, the night sky hung heavy with stars. Music reverberated from within, muffled here by the draped entrances.

In one corner of the veranda, your circle of friends had gathered like a small court. The aura they exuded—Mattheo, Draco, Theo, Enzo, and your host, Blaise—repelled most other party-goers, who lingered meters away. Perhaps the others sensed that an entourage of Death Eater heirs—and the Dark Lord’s heir himself—was too intimidating a scene to breach. Even in the chaos of this unexpectedly crowded party, power commanded distance.

Daphne let out an excited squeal as she dropped into one of the cushioned iron chairs by Blaise. “Everyone’s together again!” she cheered, blissfully unaware of the that undercut what lingered around her within her own friends.

Pansy strolled over to Enzo, who stood near Blaise, indulgently smoking a joint that was being passed around. A swirl of smoke left his lips just as Pansy pinched his arm, snatching the cylinder from his hand.

“Oi, Pans—what the fuck?!” he snapped, rubbing his arm.

“Looked like you were hogging it,” she retorted with a nonchalant shrug, raising the joint to her lips.

A slight grin tugged at your mouth, and you ruffled Enzo’s hair as you walked past, heading to drape your arms around Blaise’s shoulders from behind in a gesture of greeting. “Sorry for being late,” you murmured. He patted your arm briefly, acceptance in his silence.

You then moved to the wide couch where Theo and Draco were seated. They each gave you a subdued nod. Theo casually rested his arm across the back of the couch, behind you, as though you’d never been apart. Draco gave a subtle tilt of his lips—a sort of half-smile, half-cool acknowledgment.

“More like you ladies were taking forever,” Enzo grumbled, adjusting his fluffy brown hair, glaring at Pansy who was now inhaling deeply on the stolen joint.

“It took us ages to find Y/N,” Pansy interjected, her tone pointed as she exhaled a plume of smoke that curled overhead.

You raised a brow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this party was less than sacred among our peers and needed some solitude at the other end of the house.” The smoothness in your voice was practiced, every bit of forced normalcy. You’d slip a mask over the chaos that churned in your racing thoughts, bidding to grant yourself grace for the rest of the night. You’d done what you needed, there was no need to dig for more.

Across from you, Daphne let her legs drape over the arm of her chair, and Mattheo silently passed the joint her way. She took a swift drag, then handed it off to Draco.

Blaise let out a bark of laughter. “I didn’t realize either, okay?” he said, gesturing at the throng of unfamiliar wizards mingling through the open archways. “Apparently, the world’s craving a distraction with… well, everything going on.”

You flicked a look at Theo. He met your gaze, then glanced at Mattheo, who had fixed his dark eyes on you—a hard stare that spoke of annoyance or concern briefly flitting to your now healed hands, then back to your eyes. Your stomach knotted as he scowled deeper, snapping his gaze away the second you raised a questioning brow.

It stung. He was—is—your best friend, along with Theo. Inseparable, you three. Hell, he basically lived with you and Theo at this point. Had his own room in the guest wing and everything. So why did he choose to be distant when you needed him most? When he needed you the most?

“Probably never a good sign if Evander Rosier’s milling about,” Pansy said, taking another slow drag before handing the joint to Draco. She wrinkled her nose. “That man’s a menace.”

Daphne propped her head up, eyes alight with curiosity. “Is he still as handsome as he was in school?” She twirled her hair, kicking her feet idly off the chair’s arm.

“Daph, the guy’s a weasel—” you started, rolling your eyes.

“That prat is here?” Mattheo muttered, stepping forward and running a tense hand through his curls. He spat the words low enough that only your group would hear. There was something almost feral in his tone, like he itched for a confrontation.

Draco leaned in, elbows on his knees. “Bold of him, considering his family's got major targets on their backs for switching allegiances when it suited them. Heard the Dark Lord isn’t fond of turncoats. You’d think they’d keep their heads down.”

“Exactly,” Mattheo agreed, starting to pace in the limited space of the veranda. Each step exuded pent-up energy, a sign of the storm roiling beneath his brooding façade. “I don’t trust him,” Mattheo muttered.

“You don’t trust anyone,” Pansy quipped, leaning into Enzo’s side as she blew a huff of air to fix her bangs.

Mattheo didn’t bother replying, his jaw clenching tighter. Draco, seated at his side of the couch, shifted slightly, one leg crossing over the other as his cool gray gaze flicked between Mattheo and Theo. A hum of knowledge unspoken as the dark curly haired boy continued pacing, his equally dark eyes sharp and restless. His shoulders were tight beneath his tailored jacket, each step deliberate but restrained, as though holding back something more volatile.

War was creeping into every aspect of your lives. It was easy to mask it under booze, weed, and forced smiles, but it only took a mention of someone like Rosier to remind you that trouble lurked everywhere.

“Well, Mattheo’s not wrong,” Draco said, breaking the silence. His tone was measured, but his words carried weight. “If Evander Rosier’s here, it’s for a reason. And it’s not to mingle.”

Daphne, ignorant to the depth of that trouble, scoffed. “You lot are so dramatic. Maybe he’s just here to enjoy the party. Could be a rumor, anyway—who said he’s committing treason?”

Pansy grimaced. “Not treason, survival,” she corrected, flicking her gaze your way. “Rosier’s family is desperate to cling to whatever power they have left. Bet they’ll sell out friends or enemies alike to keep afloat.”

“And what does it matter to us?” Daphne countered, her tone breezy but her eyes narrowing. “We’re not the ones making alliances, are we?”

Her words struck a chord—you forced yourself not to flinch, remembering how you and Theo, Mattheo, and even Draco plus Enzo had been entangled in the Dark Lord’s webs. You busied your hands by taking the joint from Theo and inhaling a bitter drag. A tingle of numbness slid through your veins, but the conversation kept your mind from fully escaping.

Theo, finally spoke up. His arm still rested casually along the back of the couch, his fingers tapped a steady rhythm against the fabric, growing antsy. “If Rosier’s family is trying to play both sides, that makes him a liability to everyone. Including us.”

The group fell silent, the weight of his words settling like a shroud, uncomfortably close to the truth.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, Y/n,” Pansy noted, arching a brow as she glanced your way. “Something on your mind?”

You exhaled smoke, crafting your face into something neutral. “Just listening,” you deflected, passing the joint to Enzo. “Watching the crowd, seeing who’s worth noticing.”

“You just smoked!” Enzo complained, though he took the cylinder greedily.

Mattheo’s pacing halted, his gaze snapping to you with hawk-like sharpness. “Did you talk to him?” he asked abruptly.

The question sent a ripple through your friends, each set of eyes anchoring on you.

You wanted to scoff, nothing got past him, did it? Feeling so entitled to know everything you did, despite keeping you at arms length right now.

You hesitated—barely a fraction of a second—long enough for Mattheo’s eyes to narrow. “Briefly,” you confessed, keeping your tone cool. “He wasn’t direct, but he hinted his family might not be as loyal to the Dark Lord as they pretend. Could be worth telling—”

“You shouldn’t have,” Mattheo cut you off, voice throbbing with repressed anger. “You can’t toy with Rosier, he’s dangerous.” Mattheo’s scowl deepened, and he ran a hand through his dark curls in frustration. “You believed him?”

Something about his hostility riled you. You straightened, the high of the smoke fueling a rush of bravado, everyone became muffled background noise. “I’m not toying with him, I’m gaining information. If any of it’s true, we can use it. If not—”

“Y/n,” Theo leaned forward, trying to interrupt.

“Use it for what? Bellatrix’s schemes?” Mattheo interrupted him, bitterness dripping from every word. “For what? For him to use you for his schemes as well now?”

The words hung between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. You straightened your spine, the mask of confidence you’d worn all evening hardening.

“I’m not toying with anyone,” you said quietly, doubling down on your stance. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Mattheo snapped. “Because it seems like you’re getting in over your head stupidly.” His words laced with venom.

“Mattheo.” Theo’s voice became sharper, his arm tensed along the back of the couch, but his body coming forward. You put a hand on his chest, pushing lightly him back into the couch.

“No, let him finish,” the words left your mouth before you could stop them. You had been bemused almost. These were the most words you had garnered from him—in the form of an argument nonetheless—something that shouldn’t have shocked you.

Mattheo’s eyes burned into yours, the intensity of his gaze almost unbearable. “You think Bellatrix cares if you come back in one piece? You think she’s sending you out there because she trusts you?” Mattheo’s voice rose, drawing the attention of several onlookers. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “You’re disposable to her, Y/n. We all are.”

A hush descended, the weight of his outburst making the veranda feel smaller. The truth of his words cut deep, but you refused to flinch. Instead, you held his gaze, your jaw tightening.

Somewhere in the corner, Blaise stood, shock and anger etched across his features. “Wait, wait, wait–a gods forsaken second!” Blaise demanded, half to the group, half to you, looking from Theo to Draco to Mattheo for clarity. “Bellatrix’s schemes? Gaining information? What the hell have you lot been doing this summer?”

You didn’t need legilimency to see how Daphne, now realized how serious this was, sat upright, eyes wide. “You guys are… involved with the Dark Lord? And you never told—”

Pansy paled, anxiety twisting her face. “Merlin, did you take the Mark?” She peered at Enzo, then Theo, then you, voice trembling. “Please tell me you didn’t. Tell me you still have a choice.”

Enzo shifted, inhaling sharply, “Well, only Theo and Matt—uh…”

He trailed off, a fateful hush smothering the veranda. The color drained from Blaise’s cheeks; Pansy’s hand flew to her mouth in horror. Daphne opened and closed her mouth, at a total loss, the illusions of carefree youth shattered before all your eyes.

The stress in your chest mounted, your mind swirling with guilt for all you’d hidden. Theo leaned forward, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Enzo…” he grumbled.

Mattheo’s nostrils flared, fists clenching at his sides. “You… you twat!” he snarled, rounding on Enzo. Anger and frustration overloaded him, the tension snapping like a frayed wire of weeks of him barely holding it together

In one swift motion, he lunged for Enzo. The other wizard watchers on the other side of the veranda corner recoiled, startled, as Daphne yelped, tumbling off her seat. The metal chair scraped violently across the stone. Pansy rushed to her aide while the rest of you scrambled to break up the fight.

Draco and Theo tried to pry Mattheo off Enzo, who’d ended up pinned on the floor. Blaise tried to help, but Mattheo and Enzo were locked in a tangle of furious limbs, fists swinging, sounds of fists connecting to bone. Shouts rose from the party-goers that remained, some jeering, others stepping back to watch the spectacle like a twisted show.

Your stomach churned. You’d known everyone was on edge, but seeing them physically brawl—to the point of bruises, cut lips, and swollen eyes—felt like a bitter confirmation that the war had long sunk its claws into your friend group, fracturing the dynamic you all once held.

Your hands shook as you sprang forward alongside Blaise, trying to wedge yourself between the two hotheaded boys. Theo had latched onto Mattheo’s arm, Draco pulling Enzo, but the pair still flailed with adrenaline and rage.

“Stop—stop it!” you yelled, voice cracking with tears you refused to shed. You could glimpse Enzo’s dazed expression beneath Mattheo’s clenched fist. The savage twist in Mattheo’s features struck you with guilt—had you caused this?

Finally, with combined effort, Draco, Blaise, and Theo yanked the two fighters apart. Mattheo staggered backward, panting and furious, his lip split, while Enzo lay on the floor, coughing, a bruise already forming on his jaw, eye swelling. The veranda fell into a stunned silence as party-goers parted to watch.

Blaise, face grim, holding onto the younger man. “You got him?” He asked, and you nodded quickly as he let Enzo slouch into your grasp. He then stepped forward and brandished his wand with authority. “That’s it. Party’s done—get out!” he roared at the onlookers, who quickly backed away, murmuring in hushed tones. Some half-scurried to the exit, others lingered but kept their distance.

You knelt by Enzo, gently brushing back his chocolate brown hair. Despite your anger at him, you couldn’t stop the wave of compassion. His nose was swollen, maybe broken, and blood trickled down his chin. He looked up at you, eyes full of remorse.

“S-sorry,” Enzo whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just… hold still, we’ll get you patched up soon.”

Near you, Mattheo stood rigid, fists still trembling, you shot him a bitter glare. Theo hovered, breaths ragged, one arm loosely supporting Mattheo, the other still clamped on your shoulder for stability. The hush pulsed with leftover anger, confusion, guilt.

Pansy and Daphne stared at the group in shock from where they sat, uncertain whether to help Enzo or scold Mattheo. Draco grimly surveyed the damage—a few scattered chairs, a torn tablecloth, broken glasses. The fleeting warmth of the night had turned sour, a mirror of the secrets you and your friends tried to hide from the others now laid bare.

Blaise rubbed his temples, clearing the last stragglers away. “I’ll handle them,” he muttered, shooting the group a glare that balanced frustration and worry. “For now, just—sort yourselves out. This is all going to absolute shit.”

Around you, the once-lively party had dissolved into broken fragments. The veranda, now eerily quiet, bore the evidence of the night’s chaos: dark smears of blood against the pale stone, shattered glass glittering under the soft glow of the fairy lights. In the distance, the music continued its pulsing, upbeat hum—mocking the grim reality before you.

Mattheo stood apart, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain control, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. Enzo sat slumped against the railing, wincing under your careful touch, his face contorted with pain. Theo, his usual composure frayed, closed his eyes briefly, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of the night had finally broken him. You swallowed hard, blinking back tears that threatened to spill, the stress of the evening hanging over you like a leaden cloak.

Without warning, Mattheo turned sharply, causing both you and Theo to instinctively shield Enzo from whatever fury might follow. But Mattheo didn’t lash out at any of you; instead, he kicked a broken votive lying on the ground, sending shards scattering across the stone.

“Fuck!” he spat, his voice low and hoarse, as he stalked toward the edge of the veranda, Draco following. He pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one with shaking hands, then offering the pack and lighter to Draco, who took it with trembling fingers.

The flame trembled briefly before catching, the glow illuminating the raw anger and frustration etched across his face. Draco’s face is heavy with exhaustion evident on his pale features.

Theo exhaled deeply, releasing his hold on you as he turned to check on Daphne. She sat huddled nearby, her knees drawn to her chest, tears streaking her pale cheeks. Bright, angry red scrapes marred her arms and legs where she’d fallen, her quiet sobs cutting through the silence like a knife. With Theo nearby, Pansy excused herself to go find Blaise inside the house.

Daphne shouldn’t have been part of this. She wasn’t supposed to be caught in the crossfire of your mess—or theirs. You doubted Mattheo or Enzo had wanted this, either. For all her family’s ties to conservative politics, Daphne had always remained blissfully uninvolved in the darker intricacies of the war. She should have been unscathed.

Enzo groaned softly, clutching his side, his breaths shallow and labored.

You let out a quiet sigh, reaching for your wand.

“Keep still, please,” you murmured, your voice gentler than you felt. “This is going to hurt.”

His only response was a faint grimace as you grasped his broken nose carefully between your fingers. He winced sharply, a hiss of pain escaping through his teeth, but he didn’t pull away.

You muttered the incantation for a mending spell, your wand’s tip glowing faintly as you guided the bones back into place. The magic hummed beneath your skin, familiar but no less draining.

“There,” you whispered, leaning back slightly to inspect your work.

Enzo exhaled shakily, his face pale but less strained.

You, Pansy, and Daphne had long since learned the basics of healing spells, an unfortunate necessity when dealing with the boys. Scuffles with others—and often each other—had left their marks over the years. But tonight was different. This wasn’t some petty fistfight or roughhousing gone wrong. This was something darker, more violent.

“Thanks,” Enzo rasped, his voice barely audible.

You nodded, brushing another stray strand of hair from your face as you sat back on your heels.

Nearby, Theo helped Daphne to her feet, his touch gentle but firm. She winced as she stood, her scraped knees trembling slightly. He muttered something low, his voice too soft for you to catch, but whatever he said made her nod, her sobs quieting to sniffles, helping her sit on the couch.

Mattheo, meanwhile, remained by the railing, his back to the group. Smoke curled around him in lazy spirals, the sharp scent of burning tobacco cutting through the night air.

“You should talk to him,” Theo said suddenly, his voice tight and quiet as he returned to your side.

Your head snapped up, meeting his gaze.

“Me?” you shot back, your voice hushed but edged with disbelief. “Why me?”

Theo’s jaw clenched, “someone has to keep him in check, Y/n. He’s going to get himself—or all of us—killed.”

Your lips parted, a retort forming, but the weight of his words silenced you. He wasn’t wrong.

“He won’t listen,” you whispered finally, your voice barely audible. “Look at what happened just now.”

Theo’s expression softened, the anger giving way to weariness. “He listens to you more than anyone else. He always has.”

You glanced toward Mattheo, your heart heavy. He stood rigid, staring out into the dark expanse beyond the veranda, the glow of his cigarette flickering faintly in the shadows.

“It’s true,” Enzo sat up more properly. “Even when you two are at each other’s throats.”

You shook your head, “not now.” You muttered, looking back down at Enzo. “Lets get you in a seat.”

The silence stretched, punctuated only by the distant hum of music and the faint crackle of Mattheo’s cigarette with the scraping of a chair that Theo picked up for Enzo to sit in before pulling up his own chair. Their legs bounced up and down anxiously in tandem as no one dared to speak. You sat with your back against the railing, picking at the sides of your nails anxiously.

Pansy finally emerged from the house, her arms laden with first aid supplies. Her usual sharp, composed demeanor was dulled, her expression unusually grim as Blaise trailed behind her, carrying a bottle of firewhisky and a collection of mismatched glasses—enough for all of you.

“Well, that was fun. Anyone else want to air any more grievances?” Blaise announced, his voice laced with sardonic humor as he set the bottle and glasses on the small table beside his chair. He poured himself a drink with practiced ease, his movements deliberately casual, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his true feelings.

No one responded.

Blaise glanced around, his deadpan expression hardening. “Good. Let’s start the family meeting, then.”

Mattheo let out a sharp, humorless laugh from his place at the railing, the ember of his cigarette flaring briefly as he inhaled. “Family meeting? You’re acting like this is some petty school spat, Zabini.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, unruffled. “And you’re acting like sulking is going to fix anything, Riddle.” He poured himself a generous measure of firewhisky, the clink of glass on glass unnervingly loud in the silence.

Draco sank into a chair across from Blaise, his elbows resting on his knees, a sharp contrast to Mattheo’s restless stance.

Mattheo rolled his eyes but said nothing, taking another slow drag of his cigarette. The smoke curled lazily around him, dissipating into the cool night air.

“This mess is only going to get worse if we don’t get our shit together,” Theo said, his voice steady but laced with a frustration that mirrored everyone’s simmering exhaustion.

“Enlighten us, Theo,” Pansy cut in, her arms crossed as she perched on the edge of a chaise. “What exactly is the plan here? Because from where I’m sitting, you’ve all—” she paused, her sharp gaze flicking to each of you, her finger subtly tracing a circle that excluded only Blaise and Daphne. “—been keeping things from us.”

“And if we told you?” Theo shot back, his tone sharper now. “What then? You think any of us asked for this? Dragging you into this mess is the last thing we want.”

“Enough,” you said firmly, your voice slicing through the escalating tension. You stood, brushing the dust from your hands, feeling the weight of their stares settle heavily on you. For a moment, you regretted speaking, but you pressed on.

“Whether we told them or not, they’re associated with us,” you said, sitting beside Daphne. “They’ve been collateral since we made our vows. And now? It’s about survival. We’re in too deep, and we all know it.”

Mattheo snorted, the sound bitter and sharp. “Oh, we know it. But pretending to be one big, happy family isn’t going to change anything.”

“And brooding in a corner is?” Blaise shot back, topping off his glass with an air of exasperated nonchalance.

“They deserve to know,” you said softly, picking up a bottle of antiseptic elixir and a clean cloth. You turned to Daphne. “May I?”

She nodded silently, her tear-streaked face a mixture of gratitude and quiet pain. You dabbed the cloth with the elixir and began cleaning the scrapes on her knee. “Face it, Mattheo,” you continued, your tone firmer now. “We’re stuck with each other, whether you like it or not.”

“Stuck,” Mattheo repeated, his voice low and dangerous. He flicked the half-smoked cigarette into the darkness, the ember snuffed out on impact. “You say that like it’s some minor inconvenience, Y/n. But in case you’ve forgotten, there are people out there who’d kill us all without a second thought. And some of us…” His voice dropped, and his eyes flicked briefly to Theo. “Some of us are already marked.”

His words hung heavy in the air, the unspoken weight of the Dark Marks on Mattheo’s and Theo’s arms casting an even darker shadow over the group.

Daphne broke the silence, her voice soft but steady as she placed a hand on yours, stilling your movements. “I think you’re forgetting something,” she said, her blue-gray eyes filled with quiet resolve. “We’re your friends. Not your enemies, not spies waiting to turn on you. Friends. If any of us thought in first year that befriending Riddle, Sallow, Malfoy, and Nott was a mistake, we’d have steered clear. But we didn’t. We chose you, just like we’re choosing to stand with you now.”

Mattheo’s gaze softened slightly as he looked at her, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.

A watery chuckle bubbled out of you despite the heaviness of the moment, and you quickly wiped your face with the back of your hand.

Pansy hummed in agreement, picking up the glasses Blaise had poured and passing them around. “She’s right,” she said, her tone light but firm. “So stop brooding, Mattheo, and get over here.”

Mattheo’s scowl deepened, but he pushed off the railing, crossing the veranda begrudgingly.

Blaise exhaled heavily, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Now we want to know everything,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “And don’t bother sparing the details. I can get my hands on Veritaserum if I have to.”

Theo rolled his eyes but accepted a glass, muttering something under his breath. Draco rubbed a hand down his face, masking a smirk, while Enzo let out a soft laugh before wincing and clutching his side.

You handed a glass to Daphne, then grabbed one for yourself, the firewhisky burning as you took a slow sip.

“Fine,” you said, leaning back against the cold stone wall, the firewhisky warming your chest but doing little to ease the heaviness of the moment. “But you’d better brace yourselves. You might wish you hadn’t asked.”

With Theo, Draco, Enzo, and even begrudging input from Mattheo, you told them everything. The words came haltingly at first, but as the night wore on, they began to flow more easily. You described the aftermath of Lucius Malfoy’s and Theodore Nott Sr.’s imprisonment in Azkaban, the brutal ceremony that branded Mattheo and Theo with the Dark Mark, and your own unbreakable vow with Bellatrix—a chain wrapped tightly around your throat.

Every detail out in the open, even Bellatrix’s obsession with your role as her informant. When you recounted your confrontation with Evander Rosier, Mattheo’s fingers turned white against the arm of the chair. His jaw clenched, the muscle twitching as you explained why Rosier’s allegiance—or lack thereof—was such a critical piece in Bellatrix’s game.

“Merlin,” Daphne whispered, her face pale as she sank deeper into her chair. “If I’d known, I never would have—Y/n, I’m so sorry—”

You waved her off with a lazy flick of your wrist, muttering another ‘Reparo’ as you all worked to restore some semblance of order to the veranda. Shattered glass reassembled, splatters of blood faded from the white stone, but the aftermath of it all lingered

“You didn’t know,” you said softly, brushing stray hair from your face. “And honestly? It might still be useful. If it buys me even a day of her not breathing down my neck, I’ll take it.”

Mattheo scoffed from across the veranda, his sharp eyes flicking toward you, but he said nothing. You shot him a glare, daring him to push further, he only turned his focus back to cleaning, muttering incantations as he scrubbed at the stubborn stains on the tiles.

By the time the night drew to a close, the tension had softened, though it never fully dissipated. There were still unspoken fears and lingering doubts, but for now, what mattered was that the group remained intact.

Pansy, Blaise, and Daphne had listened in silence, their expressions a mixture of shock and resolve. Despite everything, they remained steadfast in their decision to stand by you.

“We’re in this together,” Pansy said firmly, her hand resting on your shoulder as she caught your eye. “No matter what.”

The burden you’d carried for weeks felt just a little lighter, their support a fragile but welcome relief even with the apprehension you felt for their involvement. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a flicker of hope.

As the floo network flared to life, casting an emerald glow across the room, you turned to your friends. Each of them stood nearby, ready to depart but unwilling to leave without a proper goodbye.

You hugged Daphne and Pansy tightly, promising to write as often as you could. Enzo pulled you into a warm embrace, murmuring a quiet apology that you brushed off with a forgiving smile. Draco offered a rare but sincere pat on your shoulder before stepping aside for Blaise, who enveloped both you and Theo in a firm, protective group hug.

“Don’t hesitate to call on us,” Blaise said quietly, his voice steady. “If you need anything—anything—you know where to find me.”

For all the darkness that surrounded you, they were your anchor in their own ways.

“We’ll talk soon,” you said, your voice quiet but resolute.

Theo nodded, his arm brushing against yours in silent support as he stepped toward the hearth.

Just as you moved to follow, Mattheo’s voice stopped you. “Y/n.”

You turned to find him standing apart from the others, his usual mask of indifference fractured, if only slightly. The low light caught the sharp angles of his face, his dark eyes glinting with something unspoken. For a moment, the weight he carried: fear, frustration, and a simmering anger, lay bare between you.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, as though wrestling with the words. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and raw, barely audible over the crackling floo. “Get some rest.” He finally murmured, gaze dropped, and his fingers twitched at his sides, betraying the composure he tried so hard to maintain.

Your breath caught, the knot of frustration and exhaustion loosening just enough to let the gravity of his words settle. Despite the distance he’d put between you, the quiet simmering for weeks, this moment felt like a quiet truce—for now—a bridge across the gulf that had formed between you.

You stepped closer, your voice soft but steady, your fingers twitching, wanting to reach out but hesitating. “You know where to find me, Mattheo.”

He lifted his gaze, and for an instant, his expression was unguarded, raw. His nod was slight, almost imperceptible, but enough to say what words couldn’t. His lips pressed into a thin line before he turned away, retreating to the shadows of the villa.

The green flames licked higher, casting flickering shadows against the walls. You hesitated for a moment longer, your eyes lingering on Mattheo’s retreating figure. Then, with a steadying breath, you stepped into the hearth beside Theo.

As the world blurred into streaks of green, Mattheo’s quiet words echoed in your mind.

The war wasn’t just coming—it was already here. And now, more than ever, you’d have to trust that the fragile bond between you all would hold.

Taglist: @moonlightttfae

A/n: and there we have it the madness begins, I hope you enjoyed. Lmk what you think as always!!

[hearts4court]

Court's thoughts!

a/n: here are some random thoughts(blurbs) i have of characters from other fandoms that i’m to lazy to make a masterlist for !!

this will be uploaded 1-3 times a week!

Main Masterlist

protective bf!sam (Sfw) > blurb > fluff, Sam Golbach X afab!reader

husband!soap. (Nsfw) > blurb > smut, Johnny “Soap” Mactavish X fem!wife!reader…… pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

Dating Alejandro Vargas aesthetic (sfw)(nsfw) > mood board> fluff, slight smut, Alejandro Vargas X fem!reader

taking care of denki (sfw) > blurb > fluff, Denki Kaminari X afab!reader

Dating Colby Brock aesthetic (sfw) > mood board > fluff, Colby Brock X fem!reader

In secret (Nsfw) > blurb > smut, Phillip Graves X fem!141!reader

Investigating with Sam and Colby (Sfw) > mood board > fluff, bsf!Colby Brock X bsf!Sam Golbach X afab!reader

desperate!sapnap (nsfw) > blurb > smut, Sapnap X afab!reader

husband!toji (nsfw) > blurb hcs > smut, Toji Fushiguro X fem!reader

bf!peter parker (sfw) > blurb hcs > fluff, Peter Parker x afab!reader

Don’t copy, translate or repost any of my work w/o my permission.

[sturnsreader]

• {masterlist} • {spotify} •

about me :

hi , im zoey ! my pronouns are she/her , i am bi and colombian 🇨🇴🇨🇴!

first , definitely don’t be afraid to dm me, send requests, or comment on any of my posts , i looooove when people do that !

even if you need someone to talk to , mental health problems , family problems , anything , text me !!! i love love love you !! 🩷🦇🎀

i live in the east coast and thats all im comfortable with sharing lol !

my fav shows/movies are criminal minds , greys anatomy , 911 , the saw franchise , you , black mirror , the last of us , the walking dead , baby , suicide squad , sweet home , and alice in borderland ! i love any horror movie/show lol .

my favorite artists/bands are the neighborhood , rihanna , arctic monkeys , SZA , lana del ray , the weeknd , hotel ugly , and krooked kings

I ALSO FOLLOW EVERYONE BACK !!! 🤗🤗

RULES :

no homophobia , transphobia , racism , pedophilia , or just hate in general . i want this to be a safe space for everyone 😊😊

who i will write ab :

sturniolo triplets, spencer reid, johnnie guilbert, jake webber, sam and colby atm , i wanna start writing about new people so i will take any requests !!

rules for requests :

NO : incest , rape , piss/shit kink , pedophilia , or nick x fem!reader (only bsf)

anything else im okay with :))

! request format ! :

____ x reader (ex: spencer reid x reader)

tell me if you want fluff or smut

if you want fluff, tell me the theme . if you want smut tell me the style (ex: dominant/submissive, degrading, ect)

! ALSO ! if you’re a sensitive watcher of the sturniolo triplets and you’re only here to “attack” us, we all know its a lie and you get off by these edits/fanfics , you’re on the “fanfic” side of tumblr for a reason

thanks for reading ! 🦴🎀

[enemiestolovershoe]

i‘m sick atm so i will post my next post a little later than planned.

Fell free to request as much as you want I need ideas :)

People I currently write for are under the cut

† Johnnie Guilbert

† Sam Golbach

† Colby Brock

† Matt Sturniolo

† Chris Sturniolo

† Nick Sturniolo (bsf only)

† Oli Sykes

† Noah Sebastian

† Nick Folio

[webbluvrsugar]

masterlist

✰ means smut; ✮ means suggestive; ✩ means fluff; ✦ means angst.

< obx (more ch to come) >

Rafe Cameron

. frat!rafe and his inexperienced bsf ✰

. gymbro!rafe ✰

. shower morning sex ✰

. how would rafe take your virginity ✰

- HIGH HEELS ‘N A PINT (waitress au mini series.)

EPISODE ONE ✮

EPISODE TWO ✰

- Playgirl!reader au:

introduction to the au ✮

PART ONE ✮

- Trophywife!reader au:

being Rafe’s trophy wife ✰

he takes you to Italy ✰

sweet things you do for him ✰

winter with him ✮

JJ Maybank

. nasty on the beach ✰

. babydaddy!jj taking your son to the beach ✩

- Unicrush!reader au:

him approaching you ✩

texts between you ✩

John B Routledge

. stepbro!johnb

< scream >

Ethan Landry

. finding out ethan is ghostface ✰

. teaching virgin!Ethan Landry how to give head ✰

. giving virgin!Ethan Landry head ✰

. virgin!reader dry humping virgin!Ethan ✰

. Ethan fingering virgin!reader ✰

. making out with Ethan ✰

. Ethan finds out about your vibrator ✰

. first date with Ethan Landry ✩

. rough sex with him ✰

. Ethan with a bimbo girlfriend ✰✩

. Ethan asks what you two are ✩✮

. hooking up at a party ✰

. Ethan asks shy!reader out ✩

. movie nights with him ✰✩

. Ethan putting you to sleep during act III

. doing it raw for the first time ✰

. Ethan’s so smart it turns you on ✮

. Chad finds your digital camera ✮

. Ethan’s not as shy as you believe ✰

. Stealing your panties ✮

. you like it when it hurts. ✰

- Bully!reader au

mocking virgin!Ethan ✮

losing your virginity to him (alt Sam’s sister ver.)✮

bully!reader breaks ✩

teasing him out of nowhere ✮

you find out he’s crushing on you ✮

- Size kink au

size kink with him ✰

casual dominance ✰

< criminal minds >

Spencer Reid

. late hours in his office (teacher x student) ✮

. new morning routine ✰

. late night conversations with unsub!reader ✮

. Lie To Girls. ✩✦

- Newrecruit!reader au:

Spencer meets new recruit (post prison) ✩✦

Spencer makes up for his behaviour ✩

- Shybau!reader series:

bau!reader x spencer trying to work together ✩

reader visits him in prison ✩

Spencer visits you - fresh out of prison ✩✦

- Through and through (fanfic):

masterlist

< beetlejuice, beetlejuice >

Jeremy Frazier

. making out with him ✮✩

< harry potter >

Tom Riddle

. teaching him how to love ✰✩

. texts between him x hufflepuff!reader ✩

Barty C. Jr.

. getting tricked by him ✮✩

. losing your virginity to him ✰✩

< saltburn >

Felix Catton

. felix catton likes to fuck you semi-publicly. ✦✰

. what are we? ✦✮

. what are we? — pt 2 ✦✩

< challengers >

Patrick Zweig

. patrick zweig tricking you ✦✮

Art Donaldson

- Spoiled tennis reader au:

art donaldson and spoiled tennis!reader au ✮

art rewarding you for winning your first match ✰

how did you two meet? ✮

< multi >

. 100 followers special - where would our boys take you on a date? ✮✩

. 500 followers special - moodboard masterlist

. kinktober 2024 masterlist ✰

. halloween celebrations masterlist

obs: i don't write for only these characters, these are just the ones I did so far, check out my rules for requests!

[velvetcloxds]

thank you for the tag, my love <3

worth the wait | james potter x nanny reader

james finally working up the nerve to admit how he feels about you after another failed date

the lakes | geralt of rivia x princess!reader

your love for him started a war and now he'll do anything to protect you from it

swiftie in the making | dbf!sam wilson

sam staying over at your place and being amused by your taylor swift obsession

really wish I hated you | bsf!matt murdock

matt being an idiot and thinking he screwed up your friendship by kissing you when it did the complete opposite

I see you | matt murdock

matt teaching you how to stand up for yourself

pulse | bbf!matt murdock

matt guiding your through a panic attack in public

untitled | jaskier x princess!reader

jaskier being the entertainment at your birthday ball

npt: @mirclealignr @sereinegemini @natashxromanovf @thefanbasewhore @iliveiloveiwrite @leydileyla

WIP tag game!

Thank u for the tag @brutallyjulia !

Rules | list all your wip titles; meaning even the ones that are vague or nonsensical. tag as many people as there are wips

Untitled Dick G fic | one bed trope

Untitled Arne J | request I got so long ago but still didn’t finish bc I suck at fluff

Untitled TASM!Peter P | again with the untitled but this is another Peter one bc I love writing him <3

Tagged! [ @gingeraleluke , @dylwrites , @lipstickbisous , and anyone else who wants to do this <3]

[enemiestolovershoe]

Friendship and Desire

Johnnie Guilbert x bsf!Reader

Summary: about how a close friendship between you and Johnnie blossoms into a passionate romance after meeting at a party, exploring the journey of falling in love and deepening emotional connections.

A/n: This is my first fic and my first language is not English so please be nice.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Smut, Timeline doesn’t add up to reality, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), getting caught, feelings, first language not English, crying. let me know if you find more.

Life had always felt like an ongoing adventure for you and Jake. Best friends since childhood, you two had navigated the maze of growing up together, sharing laughter, secrets, and dreams of the future. When the opportunity arose to move in together, it felt like the next logical step, a continuation of your lifelong journey.

One summer night, Sam and Colby threw one of their infamous house parties, the kind where everyone you knew (and plenty of people you didn't) gathered to escape reality for a while. That's where Jake met Johnnie. From the moment you locked eyes with Johnnie, you knew something extraordinary was about to unfold. He was clad in black, his eyes lined with kohl, and his presence radiated the same dark, captivating energy that you had always felt within yourself.

In that chaotic swirl of music and laughter, you and Johnnie found each other, two kindred spirits in a world that often felt like it didn't understand you. The connection was immediate and intense, and as the night wore on, it became clear that this was the beginning of something more than just a fleeting encounter at a party.

As the weeks passed after that fateful night, you, Jake, and Johnnie quickly became an inseparable trio. What started as a series of late-night conversations and spontaneous adventures soon grew into something more profound. Johnnie's presence felt like the missing piece you and Jake never knew you needed.

Before long, it made perfect sense for Johnnie to move in with you two. Your small apartment became a sanctuary for the three of you, a place where you could be unapologetically yourselves. Mornings were spent sipping coffee and sharing dreams, while evenings turned into marathons of horror movies and impromptu jam sessions, each of you lost in your shared love for the emo subculture.

Living together, your bond only deepened. Johnnie brought a unique energy to the group; his wit and depth of understanding complemented your own, while his unyielding loyalty mirrored Jake's. You found solace in each other’s company, finding comfort in the shared silences and the unspoken understanding that flowed effortlessly among you.

Life had its ups and downs, but through it all, you faced everything together. When one of you had a bad day, the others knew exactly how to lift their spirits. Whether it was through heartfelt talks on the rooftop under the stars, or blasting your favorite bands and singing along at the top of your lungs, you had each other’s backs.

One particularly stormy night, as rain lashed against the windows and thunder echoed in the distance, the three of you huddled in the living room, wrapped in blankets. The power had gone out, casting the apartment into a dim, cozy darkness. Candles flickered around you, creating a circle of warm light that felt like a shield against the storm outside.

Jake glanced at you and Johnnie, a grin spreading across his face. “Remember how we met at Sam and Colby’s party? Feels like forever ago.”

Johnnie chuckled, his eyes reflecting the candlelight. “Yeah, who would’ve thought that one night would lead to all of this?”

You nodded, a sense of gratitude swelling in your chest. “We’ve come a long way since then. And I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your friendship, you realized that this was home. Not the apartment, not the physical space, but the bond you shared. The world outside might be unpredictable, but together, you knew you could weather any storm.

The storm raged on outside, each clap of thunder resonating through the walls of the apartment. Despite the warmth and camaraderie you had felt earlier, sleep eluded you. Memories and worries swirled in your mind, refusing to let you rest. Deciding that a hot chocolate might soothe your restless thoughts, you quietly slipped out of bed and padded down to the kitchen.

The dim glow of the candles still flickered in the living room as you made your way to the counter. You set about the familiar ritual of heating milk, adding cocoa, and stirring until the rich, comforting aroma filled the kitchen. As you sat on the counter, cradling the warm mug in your hands, the emotions you had been holding back all day began to spill over. Tears silently traced paths down your cheeks as you sipped your hot chocolate, the storm outside mirroring the turmoil within.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the soft footsteps approaching until Johnnie’s voice broke the silence. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

You looked up, quickly wiping at your eyes, but Johnnie had already seen the tears. His expression softened as he crossed the room, his own mug in hand. “Mind if I join you?”

You shook your head, managing a small smile. “Not at all.”

Johnnie hopped up to sit beside you on the counter, the two of you quietly sipping your drinks. The comfortable silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the sound of the rain and the occasional rumble of thunder. After a few moments, Johnnie glanced at you, his voice gentle. “Want to talk about it?”

You sighed, staring into your mug. “It’s just… a lot of things. I’ve been feeling down lately like everything is piling up on me. I miss home, and it’s hard being away from everything I knew.”

Johnnie nodded, his eyes full of understanding. “That’s tough. It’s normal to feel that way, especially with so many changes happening.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your emotions. “And there’s something else. I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I can’t anymore.”

He looked at you, curiosity and concern in his eyes. “What is it?”

You hesitated, then finally decided to take the plunge. “I think I have feelings for someone. Someone close to me.”

Johnnie’s eyes widened slightly, but he stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.

You bit your lip, your heart pounding. “It’s you, Johnnie. I’ve been falling for you, and it’s been confusing and scary. I didn’t want to mess up what we have, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Before you could say another word, Johnnie leaned in and kissed you. His lips were soft and urgent, conveying all the emotions he’d been holding back. Surprised but thrilled, you kissed him back, your heart racing.

The kiss deepened, your mugs of hot chocolate forgotten on the counter. Johnnie’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs gently brushing away the traces of your tears. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the warmth of his body pressing against yours.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Johnnie rested his forehead against yours, his voice a whisper. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

You smiled, your heart soaring. “Me too.”

He kissed you again, more slowly this time, savoring the moment. His hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer. You felt a warmth spreading through your body, a mix of relief and desire. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation.

Johnnie’s hands moved to your waist, lifting you slightly to sit more comfortably on the counter. He stepped between your legs, his touch gentle but firm. As his lips traveled down your neck, you let out a soft sigh, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I’ve never been more sure.”

With a shared sense of urgency, you and Johnnie moved towards his room, his hand entwined with yours, guiding you down the hallway, every step filled with anticipation.

Once inside, Johnnie gently closed the door behind you, his eyes locking with yours in the dim light. "I've never been more sure," you repeated softly, your voice filled with conviction.

Johnnie's response was a tender yet passionate kiss, his hands starting to undress you with a newfound urgency.

Your fingers mirrored his actions, working to unbutton his pajama top and slide it off his shoulders. The fabric fell to the floor, forgotten as your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

His hands found the hem of your pajama top, lifting it over your head and tossing it aside. The cool air sent a shiver down your spine, quickly replaced by the heat of his touch. You fumbled with the drawstring of his pajama pants, finally managing to undo it and pull them free, while he slid your pajama bottoms down your legs.

With each article of clothing removed, the connection between you deepened.

You stood there, bare and vulnerable, but completely trusting in this moment.

Johnnie's gaze traveled over your body, filled with admiration and desire.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky.

You blushed, feeling a rush of warmth.

"So are you," you replied, your hands exploring the contours of his body, committing every detail to memory.

Johnnie guided you to the bed, the two of you sinking onto the soft mattress.

His kisses grew more intense, his hands exploring every inch of your skin, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He moved his hands between your legs, feeling your arousal. Leaning close, Johnnie whispered into your ear, "Who made you this wet, darling?" His voice carried a mix of curiosity and desire, sending a shiver down your spine as you met his gaze with a flush of anticipation.

"You, Johnnie, just you," you moaned, arching your back as you met his touch with eager anticipation. He intensified his movements, skillfully responding to your body's signals while kissing down your trembling form.

He kissed your clit and you let out a loud moan. He paused, placing a hand gently over your mouth. "Shh, darling," Johnnie whispered urgently. "You need to be silent, or else Jake will hear and won't stop teasing you about it."

You nodded, understanding the need for discretion, and Johnnie resumed his actions with renewed focus and determination.

He sucked on your clit, his fingers working inside you with precision. Soon, you felt the familiar wave of pleasure building, signaling your first orgasm of the night was near.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," you panted.

"Cum for me, darling," Johnnie whispered, his voice husky with desire.

He worked you through your orgasm, his touch steady and reassuring, and kissed you tenderly afterward. Letting you taste yourself.

As he reached over to his nightstand for a condom, you stopped him with a firm but gentle touch.

"We don't need this, I'm on birth control," you assured him.

"Fuck, okay," Johnnie replied, his voice laced with a mix of relief and desire. He lined himself up at your entrance, making sure you were okay with this one last time before he gently entered you. Both of you moaned softly as he filled you, and he paused to let you adjust to the intimate connection.

After a few moments, he began to move, gradually increasing his pace. Soon, you were a moaning mess underneath him, your bodies moving in sync as pleasure washed over you both.

"Touch your clit," he panted, his movements becoming more urgent as he continued to thrust into you. Responding eagerly to his request, you complied, fingers finding your sensitive bundle of nerves.

As you began to rub your clit, pleasure surged through you. Johnnie's rhythm synchronized with your movements, intensifying the sensations building within you. Soon, you felt your second orgasm approaching, waves of ecstasy rippling through your body.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" you moaned, giving in to the intense pleasure.

"Me too. Where do you want me?" Johnnie asked eagerly.

"Inside me, Johnnie," you gasped.

"M-Fuck," he groaned.

Together, you both climaxed, sharing a moment of pure ecstasy.

You both were a panting mess as you came down from your heights.

"That was—" you started, interrupted as Jake barged into the room.

"You two are so fucking loud, god damn it.

But at least you finally made a move," he said pointing at Johnnie, leaving as quickly as he appeared.

"Oops," you chuckled nervously.

Johnnie just grinned, "wanna go for round two?"