#this ask warmed my heart i still think about it even when it was sitting in my inbox for a while

[delespresso]

WHERE BLOSSOMS BLOOM ━━ Fiyero x fem!reader

author's note; not exactly like elphaba (i didnt rlly wanna copy entirely) but i try hehe, took a bit from the real scene. also, part two coming?? 👀

prompts; “You’re the risk, I’m gonna take it.”

summary; fiyero always wants his best friend to bloom, but he realised he didn't want to miss it either

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

Fiyero Tigelaar was not the kind to think too much. He preferred to just glide through his days, remaining as carefree as ever.

But he wasn't an idiot. And he definitely wasn't blind.

When he met her in the garden in Shiz, while she was perfecting some technique that Morrible taught her, he knew she was different. She could grow flowers from a simple touch, creating the most beautiful of plants without even planting a seed.

She was magical. And she was beautiful.

Morrible wasn't the only one taken with her, albeit for a different reason. Fiyero found himself constantly within her vicinity, drawn to her in an inexplicable way.

He became a constant presence around her, sometimes bringing her a bouquet of sticks as a little joke, knowing she can grow the flowers as she liked. It became an inside joke, a little side project for them both — he went looking for broken branches and sticks with leaves but no flowers, and she'd grow them at will.

"You haven't done peonies," he commented one day as they were outside in a secluded corner of the university field, under a tree.

She was sitting against the bark, a book in her lap about magic from Morrible's own shelf. Fiyero was coming back from a bush, holding up another stray branch for her.

She laughed then, accepting it from him.

"My dorm is becoming a jungle," she mused.

"Then I'll keep some in mine," he shrugged, before urging again; "peonies."

The smile on her face was enough to make his typical cheeky and charming self soften into something more genuine. There was something about her that felt bright, warm — like a new bloom in spring.

She let her fingers gently glide along the small branch, intending deep in her mind and heart for it to bloom into a peony. It sure did — a beautiful, vibrant blue one.

"To match your eyes," she commented with a smile as she tucked it in his breast pocket.

He never let that peony go from that day onwards. It was an ever present part of his attire, always in his breast pocket. He quickly discovered whatever she grew, never wilted. It just remained as alive as ever, real long-lasting flowers.

She'd wanted to do something more. To grow something bigger. Or something with more flowers. She wanted to push the limits of her power, find out how far she could go.

Especially after another session with Morrible who told her about the Wizard. Meeting the Wizard was always a dream of hers since she was a child. Honestly, who in Oz didn't want to? But Morrible did say if she wanted to meet the Wizard, she should prove herself. Be better.

So that's what she was aiming to do. But, naturally, she didn't go alone.

She found Fiyero with some other students as he talked at them, because everyone wants to listen to the Winkie Prince. She was amused, but she couldn't let it prolong. So she went over and politely dragged him away from the others.

“Where to, flower?” Fiyero asked with a smile as he willingly went off with her.

“Forest. I have homework.”

His brows furrowed as he looked down at her, a little confused at the situation.

“You want to do homework in the forest?” he repeated, checking if he was correct.

She looked up at him, still linking their arms together as she led him out of the campus gates and towards the treeline. The only response he got was a smile and nod.

He chuckled at how nonchalant she was. He was curious, but by now he learned not to question it. That was exactly how their dynamics ran. Their. . . friendship. Best friendship.

Yeah. Just that.

She was trying to find a nice spot. He'd moved his arm so he could hold her hand instead, making it easier for them to navigate the terrain. Eventually she seemed satisfied with what she found, a small area by a little pond surrounded by bushes.

She led him to it, making them put their bookbags down on the grass before she knelt down by the pond. He might still be lost as to why they were here, but he was always one to go with the flow. So he took off his blazer and set it carefully over their bags, before coming to join her side.

“Morrible wrote a letter to the Wizard,” she finally informed.

With a smile full of hope, she looked over at him.

“She thinks I have a chance to meet him. But of course, I still have to be better. Prove myself worthy,” she continued.

He gave her his full attention as she talked, his eyes locked on her the whole time. Something bloomed in his chest as he saw how hopeful and excited she looked, like a child finally getting what they wanted.

“You're more than worthy,” he said softly.

She met his gaze, her smile so genuine and bright that Fiyero was certain she was the embodiment of the sun itself.

“I wanted to try something. Experiment some more,” she explained why they were there in the first place.

So Fiyero sat right there with her, keeping her company and giving encouragement as she tried multiple tricks. Trying to do bigger and better things. She often got frustrated when it didn't work, but he was always there to reassure her.

Like some kind of angel on her shoulder all the time.

It felt like a dream.

They were at the train station, a lot of her classmates seeing her off as she waited for the bullet train.

The Wizard had invited her to the Emerald City to see him — an absolute dream come true.

She was happy. Why wouldn't she be? This was what she's always wanted, everything she's worked for. To meet the Wizard and be his apprentice. To make Oz an even better place than it was.

Dreams, dreams, dreams.

Except something was missing. She looked around the platform, trying to find a pair of familiar blue eyes but they were absent. It didn't feel right to leave if she didn't see him first. She didn't even see him at Shiz earlier.

It was almost as if he was avoiding her.

Until she heard some thudding footsteps on the platform coming up behind her, making her turn her head and finally — there he was.

“No, I'm not late,” Fiyero spoke before she could even greet him. “I'm a prince, everyone's always arriving before me.”

She raised her brows in amusement, looking up at him knowingly. He had that usual charming persona again. The Winkie Prince everyone adored. But she knew better.

“Of course,” she went with it anyway.

They both simply chuckled together, standing in front of another with an odd sense of understanding. She was going off, chasing her dreams. They both knew this.

“You're going to do wonderful things, flower,” he said softly.

His eyes were looking at her like she was the only thing in existence at the moment. He was looking at his best friend like nothing else mattered. She was almost sure she saw a hint of longing there already, and she hadn't even left.

“Here's hoping,” she nodded with a soft smile.

“No, I know it,” he assured. “You're a remarkable person, you know?”

She gazed up at him with a gentle smile. Her eyes shone with something unspoken. She had so much she wanted to say before she left. She didn't even know how long it'd be until they saw each other again.

She suddenly wanted more time.

“It'll be different without you.”

She didn't quite expect him to be the one to admit that first. She knows. But she couldn't quite say it.

“You'll be fine. You've got the entirety of Shiz wrapped around your pinky,” she smiled softly.

Though it was more bittersweet than the usual bright ones that lit up even the darkest days. He noticed — he always would.

“They are,” he admitted, forcing a chuckle.

“None of them are you though.”

Her heart fluttered. His addition was so casual, but she could tell he wasn't just being charming as he always was. He was being sincere. He didn't think they compared to her. Not a single one.

She opened her mouth to speak, but then the train conductor called out for the passenger to board.

“Go,” he urged, giving her a smile when her head turned back to him instead of the train.

“Do what you do best. Bloom,” he said earnestly, reaching out to put a flower in her hair — the blue peony he'd been holding onto so dearly.

She nodded, about to step forward. She wanted to do something. One last thing. But instead she smiled, wishing him goodbye for now and got onto the train.

Fiyero stayed, watching her go. She was standing by the doorway of the train, waving everyone goodbye as it started a slow departure.

Her eyes were mainly on him though, a million unspoken words between them. He put his hands in his pocket, and only then did he realise he'd forgotten something.

“Wait!”

He jogged to get to her before the train could get past the platform, holding out a piece of paper. She held onto the railing, taking it from him.

“Keep it,” he said simply.

She unfolded the paper, finding it to be a drawing. She never realised he drew. It was a clear, pretty detailed drawing of her in pencil. It was probably from the day they were in the forest, when she was trying to do bigger tricks with her powers. There was a note in his familiar writing at the bottom;

'I hope you never stop blooming, wherever you find yourself to be — Your Fiyero'

She looked up, catching his eyes again.

Now or never.

“Come with me!”

Fiyero's eyes widened, before he jogged a little further to get closer to her. He was sure he heard wrong. She couldn't be asking that of him. Right?

“C'mon! You'll miss it,” she urged, holding a hand out.

They were inches away from the end of the platform. Inches away from her going away to the Emerald City indefinitely.

Fiyero hesitated. This was her dream. He'd never considered meeting the Wizard, not once. But he was starting to realise — he'd do just about anything for her.

Going off with her now was a risk. It could go badly, but then again, since when did he stress over rules?

He sped up, reaching out to grab her hand and letting her help him as he jumped right into the train. She nearly fell back when he jumped, both of them stumbling in.

His arms were quick to grab her, wrapping around her waist and keeping her close as he raised a hand to keep them both standing by holding onto a railing. Her own hands gripped onto his jacket, a laugh leaving her as she realised he just took that leap.

“I'll say, I didn't think you'd do it,” she admitted.

They were still flush against one another. Not that either of them minded.

His lips curved into a smile, almost flirtatious as he held her close like that.

“You underestimate what I'd do for you.”

She couldn't help it — she beamed up at him, feeling oddly happier now. Seeing the Wizard was always her dream. It's just that today, something felt odd. Until now, the second he took that leap to join her.

Fiyero had always found her fascinating. He was intrigued with her powers, first. Then he got to know her, finding out the kind of person she was. Oddly enough, they mellowed each other out perfectly. A good balance of reckless and organised.

They were perfect together. In every sense. He'd never been scared about making moves before. Usually it'd only take hours before he was shooting his shot with someone.

Not her though. It's been months of pure friendship first, despite the obvious attraction. But as he stood here, holding her after doing what was possibly the craziest thing in his life — which was saying something because he's done a lot in his short lifetime — he realised he wanted more.

Just friends wasn't enough anymore.

His eyes were locked with hers. She didn't look or move away. Her smile remained, even as her gaze momentarily drifted to his lips. She was sending all the right signals on purpose.

So he wasn't throwing away his shot this time. One hand went up to cup her cheek, caressing the swell of it gently before leaning in. A second's pause, just in case she changes her mind — she didn't.

His lips met hers sweetly. Finally. He kissed her like he was handling the most precious cargo, soft and slow yet they could both feel all the yearning that's been burning like a candle all this while.

He knew then and there; she was certainly a risk worth taking.

“I'll follow you anywhere, flower.”

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[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART TEN ♡

paige x azzi

warnings: sexual content (at the end)

word count: 9.8k

A/N: Alright this is the last chapter of the series 🥹. I really enjoyed writing this one honestly and this won't be my last story! I tried to combine the things people requested the most for the last chapter so it's honestly just a really cute chapter to wrap up their storyline. There is some sexual content at the end but if you don't like that kind of thing you don't have to read it and won't miss much as it's just the end of the series. But for those of you who do like it, it's there lol! Please leave live reactions and comments, thank you so much for reading this series 🫶🏼🤭.

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March 2029

Paige paced back and forth in her dressing room, her footsteps quick and uneven as she muttered under her breath. Nika, lounging on the couch, watched her with an amused expression, while everyone else was still getting dressed. 

“Twin, you need to chill and sit down,” Nika said, shaking her head. “You’re gonna get sweaty, and Azzi’s going to kill you and probably me for letting you do this.”

“How am I supposed to sit down?” Paige shot back, throwing her hands in the air. “I haven’t seen my fiancée all day! I have no idea what she’s thinking!”

Nika stifled a laugh. “Yeah, that’s the point. You’re not supposed to see her today. It’s tradition or whatever.”

Paige groaned, reluctantly plopping down onto the edge of the couch. She adjusted her button up carefully, making sure she didn’t wrinkle it. “This is torture, who came up with this ridiculous tradition anyway. Who wouldn’t want to see their wife before they got married,” she muttered.

A few seconds later, as if the universe was reading her mind, a knock sounded at the door. Nika stood up to answer it, sharing a quick glance at Paige whose face lit up a little bit. When Nika opened the door, Caroline stood on the other side, a playful smirk on her face.

“Azzi wants Paige to come to the door,” Caroline said, her tone light, “but she can’t look.”

Nika laughed quietly as she turned to Paige. “Come on, drama queen. Get up.”

With exaggerated reluctance, Paige got to her feet. Nika guided her to the door, positioning her by the wall so she and Azzi couldn’t see each other.

Paige felt a familiar hand slide into hers from the other side of the door frame, their fingers intertwining. Azzi’s voice came softly, almost a whisper. “Hi, baby.”

A wide grin broke out on Paige’s face. “Hi, mama.”

Azzi chuckled at the name, her thoughts drifting briefly to their son, who Geno had whisked away the moment he’d arrived.

“Have you seen him yet?” Paige asked, her tone softening as her thoughts turned to their little boy just like Azzi.

“Not since this morning,” Azzi replied. “But Geno promised he’d keep him entertained. I heard him say something about introducing him to everyone in the building before getting him dressed.”

Paige laughed quietly. “So basically, he’s spoiling him.”

“Of course,” Azzi said with a smile. “I think Geno likes being a grandpa more than he did coaching sometimes.”

Paige’s heart melted as she pictured her son’s bright blue eyes and laughter filling the building. “I still can’t believe we have him sometimes Az. He’s perfect.”

Azzi’s voice softened. “He really is. And he’s going to be so proud of his moms today.”

“Which is why you need to calm down goofball,” Azzi continued gently as she squeezed Paige’s hand.

Paige scoffed, trying to sound confident. “Psh, what are you talking about? I’m cool as a cucumber.”

A laugh bubbled up from Azzi. “I could feel your stress from the other side of the building, Paige and your hands are sweaty.”

At that, Paige tried to pull her hand away to wipe it on a towel, but Azzi held onto her firmly. “Nope, not so fast,” Azzi teased.

Paige sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. “This is so unfair,” she mumbled. “I can’t even see you.”

“I know,” Azzi replied, her voice warm. “But I’m here. We’ve got this.”

Paige exhaled a shaky breath, a grin tugging at her lips. “We’re getting married today, baby.” Her voice wavered with emotion, the reality of the moment hitting her all over again.

Azzi smiled on the other side of the door, her thumb gently stroking the back of Paige’s hand. “Yeah, we are,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “Can you believe it?”

“No,” Paige admitted with a small laugh. “Six years ago, I didn’t think I’d be this lucky.”

Azzi’s grip tightened slightly. “Paige, you deserve this. You deserve everything.”

Paige’s heart swelled, and she closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall. “You’re everything, Az. I can’t wait to see you walk down that aisle.”

“And I can’t wait to marry you,” Azzi whispered.

A moment of silence passed between them, filled only with the quiet sound of their breathing.

Finally, Azzi spoke again. “Okay, I have to go put my dress on now.”

Paige smiled, her head still resting against the wall. “I know you’re going to look so beautiful, Az.”

Azzi’s laugh was like a perfect melody in Paige’s ears. “I love you, P.”

“I love you, too,” Paige replied without hesitation, her voice soft and full of adoration.

Their hands parted reluctantly, and Paige went back to sit down, her chest lighter than it had been all day. She reached for a bottle of water, taking a long sip as a calmness settled over her.

…

Paige now stood outside the double doors, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a few deep breaths trying to steady herself. 

Behind her, Jayden squirmed in Ice’s arms, reaching out toward his mom with a determined pout. His little hands stretched forward, and his soft curly hair bounded as he wriggled in Ice’s arms. 

“Paige, he wants you,” Ice said with a grin, already moving to set the toddler down. 

Paige bent down as his tiny feet touched the floor, her hands immediately going to straighten his miniature suit. “Hey, buddy,” she said softly, her voice instantly calm as she smoothed the lapels of his jacket. 

Jayden beamed up at her, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement, “Mommy,” he said, his voice sweet and slightly wobbly 

Paige smiled at him as she booped his nose with her finger. “Hey, little man. Look at you in your suit. You look so handsome. Mama’s gonna love it.”

Jayden grinned proudly, then pointed to the doors. “Mama ‘dere?” he asked, his small finger jabbing in the direction of where Azzi was going to be eventually.

Paige’s heart melted as she nodded. “Yeah, mama’s gonna be in there. But she’s not there yet, she’s waiting for us.”

Jayden tilted his head, his little brow furrowed in thought. “Why?” he asked, the single word clear amidst his toddler babble.

Paige chuckled softly, fixing the curls that had fallen over his forehead just the way Azzi liked it. “Because today’s a special day Jay. Mama and I are getting married.”

Jayden’s eyes widened with the kind of awe only a toddler could muster. “Mawwy?” he repeated, his tone high and curious.

Paige nodded, her smile growing. “Yeah, married. It means we’re gonna be a family forever. You, me, and Mama.”

Jayden clapped his hands together, clearly pleased with the idea. “Jayden, too?” he asked, his words slightly jumbled but unmistakable.

“Of course, Jayden, too,” Paige said, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “You’re the most important part of this family, you know that?”

Jayden giggled, his small hands reaching up to pat Paige’s cheeks. “Love you, Mommy,” he said suddenly, his little voice bursting with affection.

Paige felt her throat tighten as she pulled him into a quick hug. “I love you, too, Jay. So much.”

From behind her, Ice cleared her throat. “Alright, ma’am, time to stand up. You’ve got a wedding to get to.”

Paige laughed, releasing Jayden reluctantly. She straightened up, brushing off her suit and taking another deep breath. Looking down at Jayden, she gave him a reassuring smile. “You ready?”

Jayden nodded eagerly, excited to see his mama finally. 

With one last deep breath, Paige straightened her shoulders, feeling calmer than she had moments ago.

…

Paige stood at the end of the aisle, her hands nervously crossed in front of her as she waited for Azzi. The soft murmur of the audience faded into the background, and all she could feel was the weight of the moment. On her side of the aisle stood Nika, Ice, KK, and Drew, each of them smiling at her with proud, knowing looks. On Azzi’s side were Caroline, Jon, Jose, and Jana, equally as proud, their faces radiating warmth as they stood together, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Each of them wore the same light magenta in their respective styles, the magenta represented the union of their lives, the perfect balance between purple and pink, of Paige and Azzi.

The guests in the audience were a mix of family, friends, and basketball royalty, each one a piece of Paige and Azzi’s shared journey. Paige could see familiar faces scattered throughout the crowd: their families, their old UConn teammates, UConn alumni, some of their WNBA teammates–old and new–even some players they had never played with but had grown close to, all of these people supported Paige and Azzi through different phases of their careers and their relationship. The room was a true reflection of their journey. The air felt heavy with history and yet it was brimming with hope for the future.

All of a sudden the orchestra began to play, its soft melodies filling the air and soothing the nervous tension in the room. At the front of the aisle, Paige couldn’t help but smile as she saw the first person of the day making his way down the aisle. With his little legs, he moved slowly, but with an adorable determination. He was wearing a little suit that mirrored his uncles, and he was holding his aunt Lauren’s hand. Every now and then, Lauren would hand him a few flowers to toss down the aisle which he thoroughly enjoyed. The crowd cooed at the two-year-old as he made his way toward the front, taking in all the attention with the charm that Paige swore he got from her. 

Jay was their perfect miracle. Paige and Azzi had adopted him as soon as both of their rookie contracts were up, and they were finally able to play for the same team in Washington. It had been nothing short of hitting the adoption lottery. With his blue eyes and blonde hair, he looked like a perfect blend of both his moms somehow. His blonde hair was curly like Azzi’s, and his dimples were almost an exact replica of her’s. As he threw flowers along the aisle, occasionally getting distracted by familiar faces in the crowd, Paige couldn’t help but beam with pride.

When Jayden reached the end of the aisle, he attempted to walk toward Paige, his arms reaching out to his mommy. But before he could take another step, Lauren scooped him up, and his pout deepened. The crowd couldn’t help but chuckle at the little boy’s dramatic expression as he was whisked away. Despite the momentary disappointment, he was soon settled in the arms of his grandmother, Katie, who had been eagerly waiting to hold him.

Paige smiled at the adorable scene. Jayden was just like his moms in every way. And Paige felt her heart swell as she watched him interact with the family, knowing this day, this moment, was just the beginning of their future together.

The laughter from the wedding party gradually faded, settling into a peaceful silence that seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. The music, once soft and light, swelled into a more solemn, heartfelt melody. It was time for Azzi to walk down the aisle. As the first few notes of the song filled the air, the entire audience stood in unison, their eyes instinctively shifting toward the doors.

Paige’s heart was pounding in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears as she fought to steady her breath. This is it, she thought, her palms damp against the fabric of her pants. Her heart swelled with love, nervous excitement, and a deep, overwhelming joy. She glanced at her family and friends—Nika, Ice, KK, Drew—all standing at her side. Her gaze then flicked to the guests filling the rows, each face radiating love and warmth, all of them there to witness this monumental moment. Azzi is about to walk toward me. The love of my life is about to walk towards me.

Then the doors opened.

Azzi’s presence filled the room like a wave, drawing every eye, yet somehow the world seemed to narrow. There she was—walking slowly towards Paige, glowing with a quiet confidence, her every step in perfect harmony with the music. The lighting caught her white dress just right, casting a soft, ethereal glow around her. She looked like something out of a dream—angelic, breathtaking.

Paige’s breath hitched, and her heart raced faster as her eyes locked with Azzi’s. Her legs almost gave way beneath her and Drew patted her shoulder chuckling slightly, but she stood tall, transfixed by the sight of the woman she loved. The woman she had waited for. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision, but all she could see was Azzi, walking toward her as if the world had led them here, to this moment.

At the same time Azzi’s thoughts swirled as she took each step. This moment is everything I’ve dreamed of. Fuck she looks so good. My heart beats for her. It always has, always will. Her pulse raced as she scanned Paige’s face. I’ve fought for this love, for her. I’ve seen everything we’ve been through, and it’s been worth it. Every moment, every struggle—this is the culmination of all of it.

Her eyes were locked on Paige as if nothing else existed in the world. There was so much emotion swirling within her—gratitude, awe, love—but most of all, there was a profound peace. This is where I belong. Right here, with her.

As she walked closer, she couldn’t help but smile at Paige’s teary eyes, her heart swelling at the way she was looking at her. She’s everything to me. How did I get so lucky? Her legs felt like they were moving on their own, carried by the sheer force of the love between them.

When Azzi finally reached the altar, Paige’s hands, which had been tightly clasped in front of her, suddenly felt empty. She reached out instinctively, her fingers trembling as she tried to follow through with the practiced firm handshake she was supposed to give Tim. But before she could, Tim pulled her into a tight, heartfelt hug. It was unexpected, but so full of meaning—so full of everything he felt about the woman who was about to marry his daughter. Paige’s arms wrapped around him as she smiled through her tears. She had grown so close to him, and in that moment, it felt like all their shared memories—good and bad—were coming together.

Azzi’s eyes softened as she watched the embrace, her chest tightening with emotion. Her lips curled into a soft smile as she finally took her place beside Paige, her hand sliding into Paige’s like it was meant to be there all along.

Paige helped Azzi settle in front of her, taking Azzi’s hand in hers, feeling the familiar warmth that had comforted her for so long. Azzi handed her flowers to Caroline, a fleeting moment of lightness before their attention fully turned to each other.

They stood there, face to face at last. The weight of the moment settled in their hearts, and the world seemed to slow. As their eyes locked for a few precious seconds, it was as if the room had disappeared. Everything faded away except for the two of them, standing together, ready to begin the rest of their lives.

Azzi’s voice, soft but clear, broke the silence, carrying a tenderness that only Paige could feel. She whispered, so only Paige could hear, but it felt as if the entire room was listening. “You look beautiful P.” Her fingers gently brushed a tear from Paige’s cheek, her touch as delicate as the moment itself.

Paige’s heart swelled, and she blinked away more tears as she whispered back, her voice slightly trembling, “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, baby.” She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, but the emotion in her chest was overwhelming.

Before the intimacy of the moment could envelop them entirely, Jayden’s voice rang out from the audience. His little voice echoed with excitement as he saw Azzi standing in front of Paige. “Mama!” he shouted, his chubby little arms reaching for her. He was so happy to see his mother, and his pure joy filled the room, drawing smiles from every corner.

Azzi’s heart fluttered at the sound of his voice, and she winked at him, her eyes softening with affection. Jayden, always a mama’s boy, blushed furiously at the attention from Azzi and immediately hid his face in Katie’s neck. The crowd couldn’t help but laugh, touched by his shyness and his love for his mom.

Paige and Azzi exchanged a glance, their faces breaking into smiles at their son’s antics. They shared a quiet laugh, the kind that only they could understand, before turning back to each other. Their love for Jayden, for each other, was tangible in the air around them—an unspoken bond that only deepened as the moment passed.

The ceremony continued, but the two of them were lost in the love they shared, the life they had built, and the promise of all the moments yet to come.

Paige hadn’t really heard a word CD had said as she officiated the wedding. All Paige could do was stare at Azzi in awe, her heart swelling in her chest. In that moment, everything around her faded—the audience, CD’s voice, the sound of the light music—all she could see was Azzi, standing there before her. Azzi, the woman who had become everything to her. Even after all these years, Paige still looked at her the way she did the first time she realized she loved her—like she was the most beautiful thing on this earth, like she would do anything, give everything, to the girl standing in front of her.

It was now time for the vows, and Paige took a deep breath, steadying herself as her heart raced in her chest. Her voice wavered as she began, but the words came from the deepest place inside her, raw and honest. There were no rehearsed lines, no prepared speeches. She didn’t need them to tell Azzi how much she loved her, how much she meant to her. 

“Azzi,” Paige began, her voice trembling slightly, “To put it simply you’re everything to me baby. I didn’t realize it at first, but... when you got to UConn that summer, I thought I was just being a leader, you know doing my job—helping the new girl get comfortable and fit in. But you weren’t like anyone I had ever met.”

Paige paused, her eyes locked with Azzi’s, the love in her gaze unmistakable. “You were this constant, steady presence. And without even trying, you made me trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my entire life. You had this way of getting under my skin and somehow, you did it without me even realizing what was happening. You became someone I couldn’t imagine life without before I even realized it.”

Paige’s eyes softened, remembering a moment that had changed everything. “And then... you made me watch Frozen for the first time. The movie had been out for like... eleven years at that point, and I’d never seen it because, honestly, who would want to waste time watching a Disney cartoon? I needed to be in the gym. But there you were, trying to put it on because it was your turn to pick the movie, and I looked at you like you were insane.” Paige chuckled softly at the memory, the love in her eyes only growing. “But then... you gave me this look. We were on my bed sitting too close to be just friends, and for the first time, I really saw you. Your eyes. God, your eyes. My breath caught in my throat, and I think that’s when I first really noticed how breathtaking you were.”

Paige’s voice softened as she spoke of that pivotal moment. “Your dimples, your smile, your laugh—everything about you. That was the moment I think I knew. I didn’t admit it to myself then, but something clicked that day. And before I knew it, you had me watching Frozen every week.”

A bittersweet smile crossed Paige’s face. “And then, we fought. God, we fought, and we hurt each other in ways I didn’t think were possible. But even then... even when we weren’t speaking, even when I thought you’d broken my heart and left me, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’d wonder if you’d eaten, how you were feeling, if you were getting enough sleep, if you were icing your knee or taking care of yourself. I couldn’t stop caring even when I wanted to.”

Paige’s voice faltered for a moment as she fought to control the tears threatening to fall. She looked at Azzi, who stood before her, looking at Paige with such intensity that it made her heart ache. “You’re so beautiful, Azzi,” Paige whispered, her words faltering slightly as she lost herself in the depth of Azzi’s gaze.

But she didn’t stop there. “But it’s not just the way you look... You’re so smart, so much smarter than you give yourself credit for. And you’re so damn stubborn. You fight me tooth and nail for what you believe in, even if it’s something as small as what Jay’s going to wear that day. And I love that about you. You make me feel safe, but you also push me to be better. You call me out when I’m being an idiot, but you do it with so much love. I’ve never met anyone who made me feel like I’m enough just as I am. You taught me that I don’t need to be perfect all the time. That I don’t always need to be in control.”

Paige’s voice cracked a little as she continued. “You’re my balance, Azzi. When I’m all over the place, loud, and impulsive, you ground me. You’re patient when I’m not, calm when I’m chaotic. And somehow, you push me to be better, to be a better version of myself for you and Jay, every single day, without ever making me feel like I have to change who I am.”

Tears brimmed in Paige’s eyes, and she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Baby, you’re not just someone I love. You’re my home. My heart. And I thank God every single day that he brought you to me the way he did.”

The room fell silent, and as Paige finished her vows, the emotion in the air was almost tangible. Her eyes never left Azzi’s, and both women had tears glistening in their eyes. The guests, who knew Paige as the composed, often reserved leader, were stunned. This side of her—this vulnerability, this raw, open love—was something most of them had never seen. This moment, though, was different. It was soft, delicate, and full of so much meaning. It was the clearest, most heartfelt expression of Paige’s love for Azzi.

Azzi, her heart swelling with emotion, fought to hold back the tears. She looked at Paige, struggling to find her words. After a long pause, she laughed softly, a slight chuckle escaping her lips despite the tears pooling in her eyes. “I have no idea how I’m going to follow that,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, the crowd chuckling lightly at her attempt to regain composure.

Azzi’s laugh broke the tension, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything had slowed down, as though time itself had stopped to allow them this perfect, unspoken connection.

Azzi takes a deep breath, still a little shaky from the weight of Paige's vows. "Okay," she starts, her voice soft but steady. "First of all, Paige, you're so incredibly annoying."

The crowd chuckles, and Paige rolls her eyes playfully, her smile wide. Azzi glances at her, her teasing grin softening. "But you also have the purest soul I've ever seen. You're selfless, generous, forgiving, and so incredibly caring. And every single day, I hope we’re able to raise a son who has even a fraction of those qualities."

Azzi pauses, her eyes flickering with emotion. "The night you walked into our suite when I moved in... I knew I was done for," she admits, drawing laughter from the audience. "You had this confidence, this charm, this energy that just pulled me in immediately. And, honestly, it almost got me in trouble a few times. Because I had these thoughts and all these feelings I wasn’t supposed to have for my best friend, for my teammate—especially my teammate who had a bit of a reputation."

The room erupts in laughter, and Paige mock-glares at Azzi, who shrugs innocently before continuing. "But the more I got to know you—not Paige Bueckers, the golden girl, but just Paige—the more that attraction turned into something I couldn't even put into words. I saw a side of you that no one else did. You weren’t just cocky and larger-than-life; you were thoughtful, attentive, and so incredibly soft. You showed me sides of yourself that I don’t think anyone else got to see. And those parts of you—they were the ones I fell in love with."

Azzi’s voice trembles slightly as she goes on. "With everyone else, you were carefree, like nothing could touch you. But with me, you let me see your heart. You were vulnerable in a way I know wasn’t easy for you. You trusted me with your fears, your insecurities, the things you tried so hard to keep hidden from the world. And that trust? It means more to me than I could ever say."

Azzi glances at Paige, her expression softening even further. "You made me believe in a kind of love I didn’t think was possible. The kind they write about in poems and movies. The kind of love that doesn't just show up—it stays, no matter what. You never stopped dating me, even after we were together. You used to bring me flowers every week—every single week—and when you couldn’t be there to give them to me in person, you had them shipped to my door. You made sure I never doubted how much I meant to you."

The audience murmurs softly, some wiping away tears, as Azzi’s voice grows steadier. "And it wasn’t just the big gestures. It was the way you made me laugh when I didn’t think I could. The way you remembered every little thing about me, like how I hate the dark but love the gloominess of rain. You made me feel seen in a way I didn’t even know I needed. You loved me in ways I didn’t know were possible."

Azzi pauses to collect herself, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. She lets out a watery laugh. "And somehow, through all of that, you still kept surprising me. You never stopped pushing me to be better, to dream bigger. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself, and you stood by me every step of the way. You were my biggest supporter, my safe space, my everything."

Her voice softens even more, and she looks directly at Paige, her gaze unwavering. "You’re not just someone I love, Paige. You’re my best friend, my soulmate, my home. And I thank God every day that he brought you into my life. Because with you, I have everything I could ever need."

By the time Azzi finishes, slow tears are streaming down Paige’s face, her lips trembling as she tries to smile. Azzi steps closer, her thumb brushing the tears from Paige’s cheeks.

In the quiet room, their son Jayden’s sweet little voice pipes up again, breaking the silence. "Mama, Mommy crying!"

The crowd laughs warmly, and Paige lets out a watery laugh of her own, "Yeah, buddy. Happy tears."

After their vows, CD steps forward with a warm smile, gently pulling everyone’s attention back to the ceremony. "Alright," she says, her voice calm yet celebratory. "Now, if you’ll both repeat after me, we’ll make this official."

Azzi and Paige exchange a brief glance, their hands still joined, both visibly brimming with anticipation. They go through the official readings, their voices steady yet filled with emotion, each word cementing their commitment to one another.

When it’s time for the rings, CD turns to Azzi first. "Azzi, do you take Paige to be your wife, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

Azzi doesn’t hesitate. She nods, her voice clear and sure. "I do."

Taking the wedding band, she gently slides it onto Paige’s left ring finger, her touch lingering as she finishes. Her eyes meet Paige’s, filled with love and certainty.

CD then turns to Paige. "Paige, do you take Azzi to be your wife, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

Paige’s breath catches for a moment, her lips curving into a smile as she says, "I do." Her hand shakes slightly as she picks up the ring, her fingers brushing Azzi’s as she slides it onto her left ring finger. Her voice softens, barely audible except to Azzi. "Forever."

CD looks at them both, her own smile growing as she says, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss your wife."

Before Azzi can fully process the words, Paige is already moving, pulling Azzi toward her. Their lips meet in a deep, heartfelt kiss, a culmination of everything they’ve been through and everything they’ve been waiting for. Both of them sigh into the kiss, their arms wrapping around each other as the world melts away.

The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, their families and friends celebrating the long-awaited union. But for Paige and Azzi, in that moment, nothing else matters but the person in their arms—their forever.

As they pull back from the kiss, a ripple of laughter runs through the crowd, drawing Paige and Azzi’s attention to a small commotion near the aisle. Jayden, who had somehow managed to wiggle free from Katie’s grasp, was clumsily making his way up the altar, his tiny legs moving with determined speed.

"Jayden!" Katie whispered out, trying to catch him, but he was already halfway there, his little face beaming with excitement at his mothers.

Paige chuckled, bending down to meet him as he reached the top. "Hey, buddy, what are you doing up here?" she asked, scooping him up effortlessly. But as soon as he was in her arms, Jayden leaned forward, his small hands reaching for Azzi.

"Mamma!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with pure joy.

Azzi laughed softly, stepping closer to take him from Paige’s hands. "You just couldn’t wait, could you?" she murmured, cradling him easily.

Jayden nestled into Azzi’s arms, his tiny fingers brushing her face as he babbled happily, completely oblivious to the significance of the moment. Paige leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Jayden’s temple, her heart full as she took in the sight of their little family.

Together, the three of them turned to face their guests, who were still applauding and cheering. Paige reached for Azzi’s free hand, lacing their fingers together, while Jayden waved excitedly at the crowd, basking in the attention he thought he was getting.

As they began their exit, walking down the aisle as a newly married couple, Jayden’s laughter filled the air, a perfect counterpoint to the joyous celebration around them. The three of them moved in sync, a seamless unit, their love evident to everyone watching.

As they reached the dressing room, Azzi gently shifted Jayden in her arms before setting him down on the carpeted floor. "Alright, Jay," she said with a grin, ruffling his hair. "Go burn off some of that energy while Mommy and I get ready."

He didn’t need any more encouragement. He immediately toddled over to the vanity table, his tiny hands reaching for a brush and a bottle of lotion, his curiosity piqued at their shapes.

Azzi shook her head with a soft laugh. "He's always into something," she said, turning toward Paige, who was already stepping closer.

"Let him," Paige murmured, her voice low as she reached for Azzi's hands, pulling her gently toward her. Without hesitation, Paige leaned in, her lips capturing Azzi's in a slow, deliberate kiss. Her hands slid up Azzi's arms, pulling her closer as her body pressed against hers.

Azzi exhaled softly, her resolve melting as she got lost in the kiss, her hands instinctively resting on Paige’s neck. For a moment, everything else disappeared—their surroundings, the noise from outside the dressing room, even Jayden’s little voice humming in the background. It was just them, tangled in each other, the weight of the day momentarily forgotten.

But then, a soft clattering noise from Jayden’s direction pulled Azzi back to reality. She broke the kiss reluctantly, her forehead pressing against Paige's as she laughed breathlessly. "Paige," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and warning, "We can’t. Jay’s right there, baby."

Paige grinned, her lips brushing against Azzi’s again in a teasing peck. "He’s busy," she said, her tone playful.

Azzi shook her head, stepping back slightly but not releasing Paige’s hands. "I know, but if he turns around and sees anything, we’re going to have to explain why Mommy and Mama are glued together."

Paige smirked, her thumb brushing over the back of Azzi's hand. "Fair point," she conceded with a soft laugh, stealing one last quick kiss before stepping back.

They both turned toward Jay, who was now intensely focused on trying to twist the cap off the lotion bottle now. Azzi crossed her arms, shaking her head. "We should probably intervene before he figures out how to make a mess."

Paige chuckled, walking over to scoop Jayden up in one swift motion. "Come here, troublemaker," she said, peppering his cheek with kisses as he giggled and squirmed in her arms.

Azzi watched them with a smile, her heart full as she took in the sight of her wife and son. "Alright," she said, grabbing the garment bag hanging on the nearby chair. "Let’s get ready for the reception before mister here decides to redecorate the room."

With laughter and lighthearted teasing, the three of them prepared for the next part of their perfect day.

…

The reception was in full swing, a joyful whirlwind of music, dancing, and heartfelt laughter. Azzi and Paige had been glued to each other all evening, their newlywed glow impossible to miss. Jayden had been whisked away earlier by Geno, who proclaimed his role as babysitter with such conviction that even Katie and Tim had no choice but to relent, laughing as they handed over the toddler and his overnight bag. 

As the night progressed, Paige’s affection toward Azzi grew bolder, fueled by a steady stream of drinks courtesy of Jon, Jose, and Drew, who had made it their personal mission to keep her glass perpetually full for whatever reason.

Earlier in the evening, as they moved through the crowd, Azzi mingled effortlessly, stopping every so often to chat with family and friends. Paige, however, was focused entirely on her wife, trailing close behind and using every opportunity to whisper suggestive comments into Azzi’s ear.

“Baby, do you realize how good you look tonight?” Paige murmured as they paused near the bar. Her lips brushed against Azzi’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

Azzi tried to keep her composure, offering polite smiles to those around them. “Thank you, love. So do you.”

“Hmm, you think so?” Paige teased, her hand resting on the small of Azzi’s back. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Because I think this dress is unfair. Do you know how hard it is to keep my hands to myself when you look this good?”

Azzi blushed, shooting her a look. “Paige, behave. We’re not alone.”

Paige grinned, unbothered by the warning. “Doesn’t matter. I’m your wife now. Pretty sure that gives me the right to tell you exactly how much I want to peel this dress off you later.”

Azzi’s cheeks burned as she bit back a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re irresistible,” Paige countered smoothly, her lips brushing against Azzi’s neck just enough to make her catch her breath before lightly smacking Paige’s stomach.

By the time they made it back around to the table, Paige’s teasing had reached new heights. They sat among a group of their old UConn teammates—Nika, KK, Ice, Aubrey, Caroline, Jana, Sarah, and Morgan—all of whom were thoroughly entertained by Paige’s antics.

Azzi was trying her best to engage in the lively conversation about their time in college, but Paige was making it nearly impossible. She kissed Azzi’s arm, then her shoulder, her lips trailing up to her neck as Azzi squirmed slightly in her seat.

"Paige, baby," Azzi whispered softly, attempting to pull back.

"Shh," Paige murmured, brushing her lips against Azzi’s ear. "Just let me kiss you. I’ve been waiting all day for this."

"She’s been waiting all day, Azzi," Nika quipped, laughing as she caught sight of Paige’s antics. "Let the girl have her moment."

Azzi shot her a playful glare. "You’re not helping."

"She’s a lover, what can we say?" KK added with a smirk.

"I can’t help it," Paige declared dramatically, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s waist. "Have you seen her tonight? She’s perfect."

“Okay, Paige, we get it,” Ice teased, raising her glass. “You’re married now. You won.”

"Exactly," Paige said, her voice dropping as she leaned closer to Azzi again. Her hand slid to Azzi’s thigh under the table, her lips brushing against her ear. "And later, when we’re alone, I promise I’m going to show you just how much I love you."

Azzi’s breath hitched, and she gently pushed Paige’s hand away. "Paige," she murmured, her voice firm but affectionate. "Not here baby."

Paige pouted, but the glint in her eye remained mischievous. "You’re no fun," she teased, resting her head on Azzi’s shoulder as the table erupted in laughter.

"You would think after all these years Paige wouldn’t still be this horny," Jana remarked, grinning from ear to ear.

Azzi laughed, her shoulders shaking as she responded, "I knew I was never going to get a break from day one, but I’ve learned to accept it," she added, looking at Paige.

"She’s going to tear into you," Aubrey said, shaking her head with a grin.

"You don’t say," Azzi replied dryly, though the fondness in her tone was unmistakable.

As the conversation continued, Paige remained firmly attached to Azzi, her lips brushing against her neck and cheek whenever she thought no one was looking. Azzi did her best to stay composed, but her teammates saw through it, exchanging amused glances.

"Azzi," Caroline teased, raising an eyebrow. "How are you even still upright right now?"

Azzi laughed, giving Paige’s hand a light squeeze. "It’s not easy, trust me," she replied, her gaze softening as she looked at her wife.

Paige grinned, pressing another kiss to Azzi’s cheek. "Good thing you’re strong, then," she murmured, her voice low enough that only Azzi could hear.

"Good thing I love you," Azzi replied, shaking her head as Paige beamed at her, utterly unapologetic.

…

The two of them had drifted away from the group trying to get a moment alone amidst all the chaos. They were now tucked into a quieter corner table, the low lighting casting a warm glow over their entwined figures. Paige was still draped over Azzi, her lips brushing against her neck and collarbone as her hand rested possessively on Azzi’s thigh. By now, Azzi, having indulged in her fair share of drinks, was no longer holding back. She leaned fully into Paige’s affection, a soft, pleased smile tugging at her lips.

Azzi leaned into Paige’s touch, her breath quickening as Paige’s fingers gently tugged at the fabric of her dress. She let out a soft, pleased hum, feeling the heat between her legs intensify. Her hand found its way into Paige’s hair, gently pulling her closer, encouraging her to kiss the sensitive spot just beneath her ear.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” Azzi whispered, her voice thick with desire as she tilted her head, giving Paige more access.

Paige’s lips brushed over Azzi’s skin, her voice low and urgent. “I can’t stop,” she murmured, fingers lightly tugging at the fabric of Azzi’s dress again, her touch sending sparks through Azzi’s body. “You feel so good, just like this.”

Azzi’s breath caught, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear. “You make me feel good, too,” she purred, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down Paige’s spine.

Paige’s eyes darkened, the intensity of her gaze never leaving Azzi’s. Her fingers moved higher on Azzi’s thigh, inching dangerously close to where they both wanted her touch the most. “You’re so perfect,” Paige whispered, her lips grazing the side of Azzi’s neck again, her words dripping with want. “I can’t wait to feel all of you in my hand.”

Azzi’s body responded immediately, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as she bit her lip, fighting the urge to close the space between them completely with them still being in public. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” she murmured, her voice coming out breathlessly as she met Paige’s eyes. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand it.”

Paige’s lips found Azzi’s neck again, this time lingering there, pressing slow kisses along the skin. Her fingers traced the hem of Azzi’s dress, slipping under it just slightly as she tugged the fabric again, a subtle but clear request for more.

Azzi let out a low moan, her hand gripping Paige’s shoulder as she gave in to the temptation. “Paige...” she whispered, her voice rough with desire. “I can’t wait, baby. I want you. Right now.”

Paige’s breath hitched at the sound of Azzi’s words, the intensity of her longing for her wife growing. “God, Azzi,” she murmured, her lips brushing against her wife’s ear again, voice thick with need. “You have no idea what I wanna do to you.”

Azzi purred softly, her fingers now threading through Paige’s hair, tugging her face closer, her lips meeting Paige’s in a desperate, desperate kiss. “I think I do,” she whispered between kisses. “And I love every second of imagining it.”

Paige responded with a hum of satisfaction, her hand sliding higher on Azzi’s thigh, pulling her even closer. Their bodies moved against each other, the urgency of their desire palpable in their kiss. Neither of them could get enough.

But just as their kiss deepened, the air around them changed with a loud laugh echoing from the main reception area, shattering their intimate bubble. The sound cut through the haze of desire, pulling their attention back to reality.

Azzi broke the kiss, her eyes flicking to Paige, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Guess we’re not alone after all,” she murmured, reluctantly pulling back just enough to meet Paige’s gaze.

Paige let out a frustrated sigh, her fingers still tracing the curve of Azzi’s thigh. “Too bad,” she said, her voice low and husky, though there was a playful spark in her eyes. “I was just starting to enjoy myself.”

Azzi chuckled softly, resting her forehead against Paige’s for a brief moment before pulling back to glance toward the reception. “Me too,” she agreed, though the fire in her eyes remained undiminished. 

Both women groaned softly, reluctant to return to the party. Paige rested her forehead against Azzi’s again for a moment, her voice quiet but firm. “This isn’t over,” she murmured, her lips brushing against Azzi’s.

Azzi smirked, her thumb brushing over Paige’s cheek. “It better not be,” she whispered, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Their stolen moment left them both buzzing, hearts racing as they turned their attention back to the lively reception, counting down the moments until they could finally be alone.

…

When they finally reached their hotel room, the door had barely clicked shut before Paige spun Azzi around and pressed her firmly against it. The force of the move drew a startled gasp from Azzi, her back hitting the wood as Paige’s long fingers wrapped possessively around her throat.

Their lips immediately collided in a messy, passionate kiss, all restraint from earlier completely gone now. Paige’s movements were uncoordinated but intense, her need for Azzi clear as their tongues tangled. Azzi moaned into her mouth, her hands gripping Paige’s shoulders for balance, completely lost in the moment.

Paige didn’t waste a second. Her knee slid between Azzi’s legs, pressing up just enough to draw a sharp inhale from her wife. Azzi panted against Paige’s lips, her head tipping back slightly as Paige broke the kiss and began trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

“You look so good like this ma,” Paige whispered against Azzi’s skin, her voice a mix of slur and desire. Her teeth grazed Azzi’s collarbone before her lips followed, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “Do you know how long I’ve been thinking about this? About making you mine like this?”

Azzi shuddered, her hands clutching the fabric of Paige’s shirt as she let out a soft laugh, her voice shaky but teasing. “You’re acting like you haven’t already had me a million times,” she murmured, her words broken by a gasp as Paige’s knee pressed harder against her.

Paige smirked against her neck, her grip on Azzi’s throat tightening ever so slightly. “Not like this baby,” she murmured, her voice thick with intent. “This is different. You’re my wife now. Forever mine.”

Paige’s words hung in the air, thick with promise, but before she could fully process the weight of them, Azzi’s hands were on her shoulders, pulling her in for another kiss. This one was frantic, desperate—a reflection of both their needs, the alcohol still thick on their breaths as they kissed wildly. Their lips barely met before they pulled away, only to crash together again. The kiss was messy, unrefined, but that was the point—it was as if neither of them could get close enough, couldn’t have enough of the other after today.

Azzi’s fingers tightened in Paige’s hair as she broke the kiss, panting against her lips. “You’re mine too, Paige,” Azzi breathed out, voice ragged. “Forever.”

Paige’s heart raced at the sound of Azzi’s declaration, but Azzi wasn’t done. She pushed gently against Paige’s shoulders, urging her to kneel before her. Paige didn’t hesitate, following the command without question. She sank to her knees in front of Azzi, eyes dark with desire as she looked up at her wife.

Azzi took a small step back, then looked down at Paige, her own eyes dark and needy. Without missing a beat, she ran her fingers through Paige’s hair, guiding her forward. Paige’s lips trailed up Azzi’s legs, leaving kisses as she went, the sensation sending tremors through Azzi’s body.

Azzi’s breath hitched with every kiss. “God, Paige,” she gasped, her voice shaky as Paige’s lips pressed against her thighs as she pushed her dress up, leaving marks in their wake. Each kiss made her more vocal, unable to hold back the sounds of pleasure bubbling up from deep within her. Her fingers tightened in Paige’s hair as she pulled her closer, desperate for more.

Paige’s lips moved higher, leaving teasing kisses up the inside of Azzi’s thigh. “Imma make you feel so good baby,” Paige muttered against her skin, the words almost reverent. She wasn’t just speaking, she was showing it—the pressure of her lips and hands as she kissed Azzi’s thinly covered center, fueling the desire that had been building since the moment they stepped into the room.

Azzi’s body shivered with each kiss. “Fuck, Paige,” she breathed, her voice raw. She ran her fingers through Paige’s hair, pulling impossibly closer to her as she looked down at her wife. “You don’t even know how much I need you right now.”

Paige responded with a low groan as she pushed her underwear to the side, her lips and tongue brushing against Azzi, this time slower, more deliberate, as she gazed up at her wife through her hooded blue eyes. “Nah baby I can tell. You taste so good for me.” 

Azzi’s breath catches in her throat, her chest rising and falling with each labored inhale. She runs her fingers through Paige’s hair, tugging her closer, as if desperate for more. “You make it so hard to think, Paige…” Azzi whispers, her voice shaky. “Every time you look at me like that, I forget everything. I forget who I am.”

Paige smiles, as she continues her work as Azzi grinds her hips into Paige trying to create more friction despite Paige lapping at her like she hadn’t had Azzi in years. “Baby, fuck, you feel so good” Azzi whimpers. Paige simply hums at this as she drapes Azzi’s leg over her shoulder to drive her tongue in deeper.

Azzi throws her head back against the door, gripping Paige’s head and anything else she can to steady herself. With her voice low and breathy and tinged with awe she says, “Mmm I knew you’d be like this tonight–Fuck baby don’t stop–I love it when you fuck me like this baby. Feels so good.”  

Azzi’s words spur Paige on more as she continues her work expertly, knowing exactly what Azzi likes after all these years. The pressure of Paige’s tongue makes Azzi’s breath catch, her eyes fluttering closed as she becomes overwhelmed with the feeling but she leans into it, pushing her hips towards Paige as the tension coils tighter in her stomach. 

Azzi is basically riding Paige’s face as Paige looks up at her mumbling, “You gonna come for me baby?” 

She makes the mistake of looking down at Paige whose mouth is wet and her pupils are completely dilated. Azzi immediately throws her head back as she starts making pornographic sounds with her throat, “Mmm fuck Paige baby–No…no not yet baby. Fuck I don’t want it to end you’re doing so good.” 

This only spurs Paige on more at her wife not wanting to come undone for her so she drives her tongue deeper as she works her thumb in circles. Azzi’s body trembles, her eyes now watching Paige despite every instinct inside her wanting her to look away. She’s fighting the pull of pleasure that wants her to come undone right at this moment even though she knows Paige doesn’t like that. 

Azzi’s eyes are blurry now as she tries to keep herself under control for a few more seconds but Paige curls her tongue a certain way and Azzi finds releasing the tension in her stomach, “Yes…yes right there baby… don’t stop baby. Right there please. I’m ready to cum for you baby” Azzi gasps her body arching off of the door as she feels a wave of sensation crashing through her as her mouth falls open in pure bliss, her legs shaking as Paige holds her up.  

Before Azzi can fully recover Paige is kissing up her body leaving open mouth kisses in Azzi’s favorite spots. Once she reaches her lips Paige immediately pulls Azzi in for a kiss, putting her tongue in her wifes mouth so she can taste herself causing Azzi to moan. 

As their kiss deepens, Paige’s hands slide down Azzi’s body, one of them drifting behind her, fingers grazing her spine. And with a slight tug, she unzips Azzi’s dress, the sound of the zipper scraping against the fabric filling the air between them. Azzi moans into the kiss as the fabric loosens exposing her back to the air, before Paige pulls it down with ease, revealing the purple lingerie beneath. The sight makes Paige’s breath hitch, her eyes darkening further if possible as she gazes at her wife standing in front of her.

Azzi's hands press firmly against Paige’s chest, gently pushing her back toward the bed, her lips swollen and flushed, her breathing ragged. "Get on the bed for me, baby," Azzi demands in a voice thick with need, her hands already moving to the buttons of Paige’s shirt before she just pulls at the fabric with urgency, the buttons flying off in every direction, scattering across the floor.

Paige lets out a breathy laugh, the moment only spurring her desire. She stands still, letting Azzi remove the shirt, her skin now exposed except for the tight-fitting tank top she’s wearing underneath. Azzi runs her hands over Paige’s bare skin, her fingers grazing over her ribs, before locking eyes with her and dragging her hand down her torso. “You look so good, baby,” Azzi whispers, her voice low, full of hunger and admiration.

Paige smiles, her heart racing, as she climbs onto the bed, pulling Azzi along with her. Azzi follows, crawling up to her in the most seductive way as she moves with an almost hypnotic rhythm that makes Paige want to take her right there again and again. When Azzi finally straddles Paige, the sight is enough to send Paige’s heart into overdrive. Her breath catches as she whispers, "You have no idea what you do to me. Even after all these years.” 

Azzi’s lips curled into a teasing smile, her confidence radiating as she leaned down to press her mouth against Paige’s neck. She moved slowly, her kisses deliberate and sensual, each one igniting a trail of shivers that coursed through Paige’s body. Azzi had perfected this art over time, each touch an unspoken testament to how well she knew Paige—every sensitive spot, every little weakness.

Her long hair tumbled to one side, the strands brushing against Paige’s skin and adding to the electric intimacy of the moment. Azzi kissed her way lower, unhurried, savoring the effect she was having as Paige’s breath quickened, her body instinctively arching into Azzi’s.

When Azzi’s hands found their way to Paige’s belt, her movements were smooth and practiced, each motion deliberate, carrying the weight of countless nights like this, where Azzi had mastered the balance of teasing and taking control. With a flick of her fingers, the belt came undone, her slow pace almost maddening, a silent assertion of her dominance in this moment which started as soon as she had Paige on her knees for her. Paige’s breath hitched, a sound that sent a satisfied smirk spreading across Azzi’s lips.

The way Azzi carried herself now, every kiss, every touch, was brimming with the ease of someone who knew exactly what she was doing. Their years together had transformed their intimacy into something deeper, richer—a choreography of passion honed by countless nights of exploration and learning each other’s bodies.

“Still with me, baby?” Azzi whispered against Paige’s skin, her voice velvet-soft but dripping with confidence, knowing full well that Paige was at her mercy.

Paige throws her head back in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets. In that moment, she realizes how completely she’s fallen into Azzi’s orbit—how grateful she is that she crossed that line with her all those years ago. That night, when she had first given in to Azzi's pull, back when they were just friends, and how it changed everything between them. Now, after everything they’ve been through, after their wedding, this moment felt like the perfect culmination of everything they had built together. She’s never been this sure, this needy for someone in the way she is for Azzi.. 

“God, Azzi,” Paige breathes out, her voice raw with desire as she lifts her hips slightly, giving Azzi more access.

Azzi grins, pulling the belt free with a soft tug before gliding her hands under the waistband of Paige’s pants. The anticipation is almost unbearable, and yet, Azzi takes her time, savoring every second. “You’re my wife now,” Azzi murmurs, her voice low and full of intention, as her hands slowly inch the fabric down.

The words send a rush of heat through Paige, and for a split second, she’s left wondering how she ever lived without this intensity, this connection. The thought lingers, and she shivers in anticipation as Azzi finally pulls the pants down, exposing more of Paige’s skin.

Azzi runs her hands over Paige’s legs, feeling the warmth of her body, the soft curves beneath her fingertips. The contact is electric, and it’s almost too much for Paige to handle. "God Azzi, I don’t know how you make me feel like this," Paige manages to gasp, lifting her hips again, silently begging Azzi to take control, to take her.

Azzi pauses, her gaze locking with Paige’s, her eyes dark with desire. “Let me show you,” Azzi whispers, leaning down to kiss her again. But this time, it’s slower—deeper. Azzi’s lips trace the curve of Paige’s jaw, down her neck, stopping to leave a trail of heated kisses that make Paige’s pulse quicken.

Each kiss is a promise, each touch a question Azzi asks without words. Paige can’t help but respond, her hands reaching for Azzi’s bra, unclasping it free from her body, desperate to feel her bare skin against hers. The fabric falls to the floor, and Paige’s fingers wander to the skimpy waistband of Azzi’s underwear, mimicking the way Azzi had undressed her moments ago, eager to return the pleasure.

Azzi’s lips find their way to Paige’s ear, where she whispers, “You want me again, don’t you? Want me as much as I want you?”

Paige nods, her breathing ragged as she pulls Azzi closer, wrapping her legs around her waist. “More than anything,” she whispers back, her voice trembling with the intensity of the moment.

Azzi pulls back just enough to meet her eyes again, her gaze softening for a moment, a glimmer of affection mixed with the raw desire between them. “You have me, Paige. All of me…forever.” Then she kisses her deeply once more, taking the time to savor the connection between them, each kiss a declaration of everything they’ve built, everything they’re about to share.

The weight of everything settles in as Paige pulls Azzi close, the years of being apart, of growing their family together, and the joy of finally, fully being together. This moment is everything they’ve worked for, everything they’ve fought for. And as their hands trace each other’s bodies, as they continue to lose themselves in each other, Paige realizes that this is it—the final chapter. Their journey, their story, culminating here, in this moment of complete love and understanding. It’s not just the start of a new life together; it’s the closing of a long, beautiful journey.

As the kiss lingers between them, soft and filled with everything they’ve learned about each other, about love, the two of them finally fall into the peace that only being truly with each other can bring. There are no more games, no more uncertainties, just the two of them, completely and utterly intertwined in a love that has lasted years, and will continue forever.

[zepskies]

Hi Zep!! I love your writing so much!

How do you think Dean/Beau/ Ben would react to a surprise pregnancy and if the reader was unsure of keeping it?

Hi there! Aw thank you, anon. 💜

I know you asked me this a while back, but to be honest this is a touchy subject, so I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer it. All I can do is give my honest thoughts based on what I know of these three characters, with all their flaws and personality traits and humanity that goes along with that.

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to a surprise pregnancy.

(And if you weren't sure about keeping it.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Dean Winchester

Once Dean gets past the initial shock, and the inevitable "how did this happen??!", he remembers just how he could've gotten you pregnant. Part of him wants to smile at the memory.

Good times.

He slowly realizes that he's...he's happy.

He never thought that he'd have any piece of "normal" after the way things ended with Lisa. Hell, he never thought he'd find what he had with you, let alone have a kid.

He hasn't told you this, because he's locked it deep within himself and hasn't allowed himself to open that door, but the part of Dean that considered what he would leave behind on this earth if he died--the part of him that wanted a family, is still there, beating in his heart. Maybe now he's finally getting his chance.

But he focuses on you.

He gauges your reaction, and his urge to smile falls away when he realizes you're more nervous and freaked out than excited.

Dean sits down with you, taking your hands to calm you down. He suppresses his own feelings on this for a moment, and he asks you the important question.

"What do you wanna do?"

You look up into his eyes, and you really don't know. The hunting lifestyle you both lead, how can you bring a child into this? Would that be right? Are you even ready to be a mom? Are you even capable?

"I don't know if I can..." you confess. "Dean, I don't know if I'm ready."

It breaks Dean's heart, though he tries not to show it.

For once, he thinks hard about what he's going to say next.

Eventually, he takes a deep breath and squeezes your hands.

"I get it," he says. "Whatever you want to do here, I'll back you up. But for the record, I'm right here with you. I might be screwed to hell in ways that I can't even...but I got no doubts about you, sweetheart. And I know we could do this together..."

If that's what you want. The rest is implied through his eyes. You read it there, clear as day.

You try blinking your tears away. When that fails, you sink into Dean's warm embrace and let him hold you. You press a lingering kiss against his prickly cheek in a wordless thank you. And I love you.

For now, you know that he's with you, and he's not going to let you go.

Beau Arlen

Like Dean, Beau would go through similar rounds of Oh, dear sweet Lord, and holy shit.

He thought you and him had been careful, damn it! But, apparently he's more potent than he thought he was.

For a few moments, it's just pure unadulterated silence between you two...until he looks over at you and tries to figure out what you're thinking.

He's got a half-grown daughter, sixteen going on seventeen. He's approaching his mid-40s. He hadn't even been thinking about the possibility of another kid...at least not yet.

Though he can admit, the thought of having kids with you makes him smile.

"So, uh..." he trails, earning your teary-eyed expression. He softens. "Aw, darlin'. Come 'ere."

He wraps you up in his arms and holds you close. You bury your face into his neck and sniffle, holding onto him tightly.

You love Beau. You truly, truly do, but you don't know if you're ready for this. You had plans, things you wanted to do, things you feel you have to do.

"I don't know, Beau. I don't know what to do," you admit. You don't want to hurt him, even though you know that you are. You can see it in his eyes when you pull back to look at him, though he tries to hide it.

"I'm not going anywhere. You know that, right?" he says. His voice is low and steady. He rubs your back to try and calm you down.

It starts to work. You nod and heave a shaky sigh.

Then you steel yourself, and you work past the fear making your chest tight to ask him an important question.

"What if I tell you that I'm not ready?" you ask.

For once in his life, Beau is quiet. He takes a long beat. So long that your heart begins to break.

But he does answer.

"Then I'd tell you...that I love you," he says. "That I'm with you. That I'll be with you, come whatever. But I gotta tell you...I got no problem being an old-ass dad. If I've got double-knee replacements in my future, then that's just what I gotta do. I'll break my hand building the crib and the porch swing. Hell, I'll build a whole damn tree house."

You can't help but break into giggles through your tears, in the way only Beau manages to accomplish. You stroke his cheek and rest easier against him.

Your heart eases quite a lot just being in Beau's supportive embrace.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Ben isn't all that shocked when you tell him that you're pregnant.

His surprise quickly fades into a pleased grin, and he pulls you into his lap to kiss you. Fucking finally...

But he stops short, realizing that you're not as happy as he expected you to be. Actually, you look anxious, and even scared.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice deep and direct.

You hesitate to meet his gaze, but you gain the courage to do so, resting a hand on his chest.

"Ben, I wanted to be honest with you, and so I am. I'm just...I'm not sure about this."

His brows furrow. "What's not to be sure about?"

Your gaze drops from his, making him frown. Upset begin to rise in his chest, disguised as anger. When you rise to get off his lap, he grasps your hand to stop you from walking away from him.

"Hey..." But then it hits him. The realization dawns, and deep inside, it hurts him. "You better not be saying what I think you're fucking saying."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes. Your heart clenches tight in pain just watching him work it out in his mind. You try to tug your hand out of his.

"Ben, please. Don't make this harder for me--"

He stands, but doesn't let go of you.

"What, you think I won't take care of you? You think I wouldn't take care of my own kid?" he says angrily.

"That's not it!" you say, shaking your head. "I just need some time to think, for Christ's sake!"

"What's there to think about? If you give a shit about us, about what we have? What, all of that isn't fucking good enough for you?" Ben says incredulously, gesturing at the home you two live in, and the life he thought you were happy with. "What the fuck is the problem?"

You look up at him in frustration with tears in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. You shake your head at him.

This," you say. "This is the problem."

This time, when you tug sharply against his hold, Ben actually lets you go. You walk away from him and slam the door to your bedroom.

Ben just stands there for a while. The silence is only broken when he can hear you in the bedroom, trying to muffle your weeping.

Something unsavory churns in Ben's chest, squeezing tight around his heart. It's the sting of regret, both unfamiliar and irritating.

Blowing out a sigh, Ben cards his fingers through his hair. He can either stand here like an idiot, or he can do something worthwhile.

He goes to you. You haven't locked the door (not that that would matter), so he opens it. He sees you burrowed under the covers, laying on your side away from him. You turn away from him again when he approaches.

Almost hesitantly, he sits down beside you, smoothing a hand over your hair.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have everything you need. You don't need to worry about anything," he says.

"I told you, it's not about that," you say sharply. "It's not about money, or being comfortable."

Ben endeavors to be calm. He counts to five in his mind, then he squeezes your shoulder, taking pains to be gentle.

"Then what's it about?"

After a beat, you finally turn around to face him.

"I just don't know if I'm ready for this," you admit. "We haven't been together that long, and I..."

Ben shakes his head. He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

"Don't worry about that," he says. He hesitates to say anything more.

The truth is, he cares about you more than he's been willing to express. The thought of you leaving him, or even not going through with this pregnancy--both cut him down to the bone.

Is it that you don't trust him? Do you not trust yourself? He doesn't understand all of what's in your head, but if the reason you're not sure about having his kid really is because of him, then...

His curled fingers brush along your jaw and prop under your chin, until your eyes meet his.

"Look, whatever reservations you have about me, just know this," he says. "I'm not going anywhere."

You sigh softly. You know how long Ben has wanted to be a father. You know he wants a family. You don't want to take that away from him, but you also need to protect yourself.

You consider his words carefully, as well as his face, and you see that he actually means it. You believe him.

It doesn't take away other concerns you have, but it's a start.

You sit up in bed, letting the sheets slip away from you. You reach up a hand to cup his bearded cheek.

He lets you guide him down to kiss you, his arm wrapping around you strong, but noticeably gentle. Tears sting behind your closed eyelids.

Maybe he is ready to be a father, and a better man.

AN: 😮‍💨 This one was angsty, huh? I think Ben's part was the one that held me up the most. It still assumes he's had some character growth from having a "real," actually caring relationship, but I tried not to sugarcoat what I think his reaction would be.

Let me know what you think! 💜

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[nopaintjustpain]

It just… takes longer to bring him home, when Jon doesn’t catch it early.

He comes back from a walk through the hills to find the safehouse’s kitchenette glimmering with rime, a veil of mist curling around his ankles. He drops his coat in a pile by the door and rushes through to the little sitting area between the kitchenette and the parlor, finding Martin’s indistinct outline at the breakfast table with a stone-cold mug of tea in front of him.

Fuck. Poor Martin. How long had he been sitting there, slipping? He’s nearly all gone.

[Ficlet posted with permission and collaboration from OP. 🫶 Thanks bestie]

This is the worse it’s been since Jon pulled him out of the Lonely. A sickening frisson of fear rips down his spine at the thought that it wasn’t enough. That Jon’s effort, his love, his desperation to save the only good person he has left, will never be enough on its own to just keep him once and for all.

“Oh, Martin… my love,” he sighs. He approaches and, despite the radiating chill and the heavy, metallic scent of rain-soaked sea air, perches on his lover’s lap. The man’s thighs are cold and rigid. Like sitting on the icy headstone of a grave in winter, where the chill has seeped in deep through the pores and cracks of the rock.

Jon loops his arms around where he approximates Martin’s shoulders are amongst the indistinct, shifting mass of blur that is Martin. He makes a similar approximation in order to touch their foreheads together. He stares into his lover’s eyes and Knows him: the faint, hot buzz of his patron’s power coiling hatefully in the back of his skull and the nape of his neck. He’s been trying so hard not to use it. But this… this warrants an exception.

Martin’s outline solidifies just that little bit more, the longer Jon turns the Eye’s gaze upon him.

“Come on back to me, Martin,” he coaxes. There isn’t much there for him to kiss yet. So instead, Jon narrates the most minute details of his walk just now. The pale butterflies he saw. Couple of rabbits. Almost taking a wrong turn. Hiding behind a rock to avoid a pair of villagers on a walk of their own. The inane thoughts he had over breakfast. (Should he cut his hair? He trimmed it a bit since the wild tangle it’d been left in after he awoke from his coma, but there’s still a lot of length left. Too much? He’s not sure. He knows Martin likes to run his hands through it, though.)

And on that note, he spends a little longer than necessary lauding the skill and strength and gentle goodness of those hands, most importantly when they are playing with his hair and rubbing away the building throb of a stress headache. As Jon so often asks of them. He whispers gently,

“I could actually use a little of that tonight, now that I think about it. Haven’t been sleeping as well. You’ll oblige, won’t you?”

A soft, affirmative hum. Martin’s head turns just a fraction up and to the side as if to face Jon more fully, though that pale gaze is still fixed on some point in the middle distance. His shape is clear now. Just still so cold. Jon counts it a victory. Martin is, and always has been, a caretaker at heart. Jon’s noticed — much as he hates the implications — that Jon’s needing something is the most straightforward way to summon Martin back. Not for Martin. Not for himself. But because Jon needs him.

“Thank you, my love. You’re good to me,” he sighs sadly, and leans down to kiss the dew from those cold, cold lips, shivering as he does so. He’s never retained body heat well. Martin is the one who keeps their bed warm. He curses Peter Lukas’s dead name a million times more for daring to rob the world of that warmth, even temporarily. Without it, Jon’s fingertips grow numb. Still he doesn’t let go.

Lacking further topics to babble about, Jon lets himself go there. He might as well. Martin doesn’t hear him when he’s this far gone. Not the words, anyway. Just the tone of voice, the haze of distant ‘Jon-ness’, as Martin affectionately calls it, serving as a lighthouse on the shore. Martin will hardly notice if the light turns a little red from righteous bloodthirst.

“I hate what Lukas has done to us. What he’s still doing. Even dead, he’s found a way to screw with us. To hurt you. Makes me wish I had some link to the End so I could bring him back and kill him again.”

A long pause.

“…Sometimes I wish it had been bloodier. Uglier,” he admits aloud for the first time. “He died in the worst way possible, for him. Known. Seen. But I… even though I Know he died in agony, there’s just this… I keep remembering the mess Elias made of Leitner. The blood everywhere… He didn’t deserve that, least of all from Elias, but I hated that pathetic old man. Beating him to death must’ve been so satisfying. The way Peter Lukas died? It satisfied the Eye. But it didn’t satisfy me. I’d have liked to have had a knife in my hand. Would’ve liked the blood. Just for him, you understand. I wouldn’t ever want to feed the Hunt, or the Slaughter. But with him, it’s personal. I’ll never forgive what he did to you. And a year from now I’ll find his grave on the anniversary of his death so I can piss on it, just for good measure.”

A chuckle, faint and distant as wind over rocks on the moorland. But Martin’s eyes focus on Jon’s face, the hint of an amused smile toying with his lips, and hands slide up Jon’s back to rest across his shoulders. Cold as blocks of ice, but Martin’s not so rigid anymore and the chill doesn’t permeate so deep. His lap is more comfortable now.

“I like when you get a little… vicious. Is that wrong of me?”

“Probably,” Jon huffs as he shifts to get more comfortable on his perch, with the tone of voice that says he’s not particularly bothered by it, and perhaps even pleased to hear it.

He can’t help a shudder as Martin draws him closer for a frigid hug. Martin notices and draws back with a concerned flinch. His face is still oddly blank, eyes without light, but at least he’s present enough to take notice of things now.

“I’m sorry, are you cold?”

“When you’re not around? Always,” Jon whispers, and leans in to hug him anyway.

The warmth will come back.

It always does.

Sometimes Martin goes away for a while

He always comes back, but its easier when Jon speaks to him

[revelboo]

You really write really good stories ✨👌.although I'm already quite addicted to it lol, I literally go offline for 3 days for work and when I come back to read in 10 minutes I've already read everything🫠. btw the "everything will be okay" plot is really good and I'm WILD with Earthspark stories (it became my favorite series and there are almost no Earthspark stories🤧)

I’m just having fun writing my nonsense

Give Up/Give In Pt 13

TF Earthspark Megatron x Reader

• They’re trying to help. He knows it. Appreciates it. Even if he wants to growl. Just wanting a peaceful meal with you, a chance to sit and talk alone. Not realizing Dorothy and the kids would try to help. Alex had cooked for him, and Hashtag and Twitch had found an enormous plaid blanket to spread out under the tree in the yard. Jawbreaker and the others had found old holiday decorations and bit of broken glass and strung them up in the branches so the sun dapples the grass and blanket in a kaleidoscope of blues and greens. As much as he appreciates the effort, none of it was by his hand for you and it bothers him. You, though? You’re smiling as you tip your head back to look at the tree. “Is this alright?” He asks.

• “It’s gorgeous.” And it is, the kids working to help Megatron spreading warm through you. Even if you’d heard Hashtag whisper something about ‘Team Romance’ to Twitch. The two seeming to not understand that you’re a human and Megatron is, well, Megatron. Completely incompatible, but it is sweet. “I love it.” Easing down on the blanket, you watch Megatron lower himself across from you, still towering over you as he leans his arms on his knees.

• Nudging the tiny basket of food closer to you, he reaches for an energon cube while you make a plate. Wishes he could mass shift, but it’s too risky with Starscream and the other Seekers at large. Can’t leave himself and you vulnerable. “What else do you love?” Your little face tips up, expressive face surprised by the question and he likes that you’re so easy to read, that he doesn’t have to wonder about your motives. “Tell me,” he adds gently, trying to not demand, but he wants to know everything about you. Who you are. What you like.

• Shoulders lifting in a shrug, you push your food around on your plate. “Not much to tell. Honestly, I just work and go home. Pretty boring.” And sad now that you think about it. No real personal life. A job you don’t care for, but can’t quit because there’s so few prospects in a small town. Too scared to try for a bigger city, so you’d gotten stuck. Still are.

• Venting, he reaches to tip your chin up. Making you meet his optics. “What do you like to do? What dreams keep you going?” He asks, voice taking on a wistful edge. Because dreams seldom go the way planned. His dreams of a better world, of freedom had led to a war that had ravaged his home. Reaching up to touch his servo, you offer him a smile.

• “I played violin as a kid. Wasn’t great at it, but I had fun,” you admit, eyes closing. “I used to dream I could be great. That I could play and people would care.” It sounds so silly. You hadn’t wanted to be rich or famous, just wanted to play well enough the music would make people feel something real. “I doubt i even remember how to play anymore.” Laughing softly, you gently push his servo away.

• “You’ll play for me.” It’s not a request, it’s a demand, but you still smile for him. Wants to hear you play, to lose yourself in something that makes you happy. Desperately wants to see you happy and relaxed. Spark warming when you tell him okay. And you take turns sharing things. He sketches out the war and his mistakes in the broadest strokes he can, not wanting you to know just how awful he is. But needing you to know that side of him is there. Listens to you talk about your family in return, offering him little glimpses of who you are. It’s dark by the time he remembers his deal. That he’d promised to take you home. That home isn’t with him.

• “Are you ready to go?” Heart speeding as he plants a palm on the ground and stands, you want to say no. To ask to stay. To take up even more of his time, all of it he’ll allow. You like talking to him, listening to that rumbling voice. Like the warmth of his big servos when he touches your arm or cheek. Like him. But know this can’t go anywhere, that eventually he’ll get tired of your clinging, so you make yourself nod and smile like you’re okay when you’re not.

• Transforming and dropping his ramp, he can feel you walk inside his alt mode. A little hand brushing a wall as you look around his cargo hold and he feels when you hesitate. Making him remember that he’s not had time to clean up, that your blood is still there. “It’s alright,” he says softly, closing his ramp. “You’re safe here.” And you move through him lingering just inside the cockpit while he waits on you to find somewhere to settle. “Sit anywhere.”

• “Sorry,” you murmur, slipping into one of the pilot seats. Because it’s still weird that he’s this giant aircraft now and that you can just walk around inside him. Can he see you or is he just feeling you moving around? Isn’t that weird to him? Sinking into the seat, you look at all the dials and controls and feel a momentary twist of the surreal. Because this is still Megatron. Different, but still him. When the rotors start up, you touch the harness wondering if you need to strap in.

• “You’re shaking, little one.” He can feel you trembling as your little fingers ghost over his harness, touching the yoke when he shifts it. Nervous and wide eyed. “Are you sure this is what you want?” To go home instead of staying with him? Safe where he can watch over you? And your fingers grip his harness. Hates that you’re so frightened right now, because this isn’t a threat he can destroy or attack.

• No. It’s not what you want at all. Frozen, you want to be greedy. To not go back to the real world. To steal a little more time. Listen to him and ask him questions, because what you’ve seen so far doesn’t mesh up with the stories you’ve heard. He’s not a monster, not cruel or vicious. He’s gentler than you’d expected. “I want to stay,” you whisper, the words so soft there’s no way he can hear them over the sound of his rotors, but they slow and stop. Hear him rumble around you. “I want to stay with you.”

Previous

Constructicons: Some assembly required. Can I just ride around in Scavenger’s scoop?

[cognitiveoverload]

Craving (Aaron Hotchner x reader? Does it count?)

summary: Hotch shows up in your hotel room after the events of 2x19.

note: Kinda pathetic!Hotch if you ask me. Wants to be with reader despite still being married, but she says no.

After emotionally draining cases you’re usually a heavy sleeper, so no wonder you only wake up when the mattress dips in the hotel room you’re staying in. You jolt awake, eyes snapping open to see who got in the bed on the empty side next to you, and you’re shocked to see the man who wraps an arm around you as if it was the most natural thing, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Hotch, what are you doing here?” you ask, fighting the urge to bury your fingers into his hair to soothe him.

Because he’s clearly under the weather, and his warm breath smells like whisky as he rests his chin on your collar bone to look at you. “I don’t want to be alone,” he mutters.

There has always been tension between you, but he’s married, there was no way you would ever even think of giving into that feeling. Having him here, though, makes you wonder just how deep are his feelings for you. He’s not blackout drunk, he probably only drank like two glasses, but thanks to the vulnerable state of mind he was in earlier, it’s no surprise that it got the best of him.

“How did you even get in?” 

He lets out a sigh, then a small smile appears on his lips. “I have my methods,” he replies.

This sentence is followed by a soft sigh, but he remains silent for a minute or two, as if he’s contemplating how to say what’s on his mind. His thumb is rubbing circles into your arm, and while your brain knows you should stop him, you simply can’t get yourself to send him away. He doesn’t want to be alone, and there’s something he wants to talk about.

So, you wait. Rushing him wouldn’t help, and he’s stubborn enough to take his time opening up. Sometimes you wonder if he ever tells Haley about work stuff, or if he keeps it to himself since she has a lot on her plate already because of Jack. Either way, what happened earlier today definitely hit him where it hurt the most.

“It’s my fault,” he finally speaks up, his voice unusually quiet. You tilt your head to the side, urging him to explain. “I should have known, I should have gone there to see if I could help, now there’s a kid without a father and—”

You shook your head without thinking, a hand moving up to push his hair back. “It’s not your fault. You’re not a mind reader, Hotch, you couldn’t have known what he was planning,” you try.

“Aaron.” You let out a questioning hum, but he doesn’t answer, instead he moves a little to place a featherlight kiss on your exposed skin, followed by another, and another at an agonizingly slow pace. “Call me Aaron. I hate it that you call me Hotch too,” he mumbles against your skin.

“You’re my boss, I’m not calling you Aaron,” you point out.

“But we could be so much more than that. You mean so much more to me.” 

Before you can say anything, he moves just enough to be able to kiss you—a gentle, soft kiss that feels so good, but also forbidden. You cup his face, pushing him away just enough to look into his eyes. There’s a mixture of sadness and lust in there, but you know you can’t give in, you can’t let him win this one. 

Deciding that this is your best chance to set boundaries, you move past him as you sit up, watching the way he turns on his back with a groan. “For one, you’re my boss. And second, you’re married. Keep that in mind,” you warn him.

He loosens his tie and props on his elbows. “Yeah, right, a marriage that’s falling apart,” he notes bitterly. When you give him a questioning look, he goes on. “It seems like no matter how hard I try, I can’t be the husband she wants. This job is demanding, sure, but… I don’t know.”

“You need to sleep,” you tell him kindly, not having the heart to be harsh after what he just told you. 

This confession explains the phone calls that always left him grim, but you don’t feel like prying for more details. You know that he loves his family, what he just told you must have come from the desperation caused by the trouble at home and this recent case you just closed. It can’t be more than that.

Hotch opens his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything for now, he just watches you with an unreadable expression. “I’ll have to return to give the letter to Abby’s son. That’s the least I can do,” he suddenly says, lying back down, but he faces you. “Come with me.”

You take a deep breath as you watch him, but then you pick up your phone from the nightstand and put on the robe you left on the foot of the bed. “I’ll beg JJ to let me sleep in her room. Or I’ll take yours since you’re clearly planning to stay here,” you tell him. “I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

“Okay, fine,” he mumbles, his face already buried into the pillow your head rested on a few minutes ago.

[pawpiefawn]

𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼, 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

❤︎ alhaitham x reader 2.5k words five acts of love, where alhaitham loves you more with each. reupload + edited from my previous blog. thank u coco for reminding me :"

ask around the bustling hub of sumeru city, and the native dreamers would often describe being loved as something mesmerising and captivating. it is much like a kaleidoscope, twisting and turning enchantingly in hopes that the beads would fall perfectly in place, but it never always truly does; endearing and a lesson for the lovers all the same. the messy beads twirl and turn but there is just some reason why they can’t get enough of it.

the thinkers talk about love like an anchor dragging you further and deeper down into the depths of adoration and affection and infatuation; to them, there are often few clear differentiations between sinking into love and drowning in it.

but for alhaitham, however – love is natural, like the cycle of growth of the dainty flowers and wild grass beneath his feet. a swanlike, enchanting piece of music that flows from your violin’s bow – with the right person, it is as natural as breathing.

but for alhaitham, however – love is also... unnatural, given his lack of experience. he has adoring fans, he has scholars singing his praises and piles of handwritten letters from secret admirers commending his mind and aesthete – but he has never loved before, not until you.

the first act of love. listening, when nobody else will try to.

alhaitham is a wonderful listener. if you ask him, he’d say that he prefers listening, even – he is content to hear all that you have to say, however nonsensical or ridiculous you sound to others. the scribe’s work is simple, so he never truly minds – to sit quietly with a small smile on his face while you talk his ear off about anything and everything – that is what love is, you are sure.

“hey, i’m sorry.. this is just too much right now.” you know they use this as a replacement for you.

“could you tell me another time?” another time will never come.

“just keep quiet, archons! do you ever shut up?” no, i’m sorry. i probably should.

alhaitham watches from his office as your heart breaks with every unwilling individual, each choosing to walk away while you tore your heart out, still bleeding from your ribcage while laying the offering bare at their feet. how could a human being be so cruel? there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ – yet you believe you cannot make it speak because they do not choose to listen.

“...i believe you hadn’t quite finished your story from the last time we met.” he speaks plainly, eyes glistening – with pity or with eagerness is something you don’t wish to distinguish. let it be the same, lest the heartbreaking realisation that he is just like the others.

“you remember?” you ask cautiously. please do, i can’t bear to beg anyone anymore.

“i do. that day about your old neighbour’s dog escaping into your garden. you’re welcome to continue, if you’d like.”

he watches your eyes light up as you trip and stumble over your words, quietly surprised and eager to please. there is a soft feeling in his chest – a warm, weighing feeling nestled in his ribcage.

the second act of love. remembering, when it feels like no one else does.

it is no secret that alhaitham’s mind is incredible. highly intelligent, closely observant, adept at noticing discrepancies – any researcher would fight to have him take a spot on their team. he is good at remembering, you think to yourself – alhaitham remembers everything – the things you’d grovel at someone’s feet, to remember the slightest thing about you, for, and everything you wished the world forgot. him remembering everything is incredible – whether that be a good thing, or not; is another.

“when’s your birthday again?” your co-worker taps his fingers against his chin, looking through the sheet of office birthdays.

“it’s–”

“december 26th.” alhaitham walks past, not looking up from his notebook.

you and your co-worker stare in silence. he...

“yeah, december 26th...” you catch a glimpse of the silver-haired scribe around the corner. he remembered. even if it was just an offhand comment about how funny you found your birthday to be right after christmas. he remembered.

“huh.” your co-worker shrugs it off, noting it down on the list as if nothing happened.

something happened. you feel something warm blossoming in your chest – warm, comforting, lovely all the same. a tender, sweet feeling like the heavy blanket on a rainy day that attempts to capture your heart in your throat and keep it captive forever; there is so much you want to say to alhaitham. it’s nice that he remembers – out of all your friends ( was he a friend? ), who could confidently say the date without thinking twice?

“i believe those are nuts. if i recall correctly, aren’t you allergic?” the next time you see a glimpse of his silver hair, alhaitham peers into your bowl of noodles. nuts – how comical it is to think that such a small, minuscule digit could potentially cut off breathing for you.

“i thought i told them ... perhaps i didn’t.” you mumble, hurriedly spitting out half-chewed food into your tissue. you stare tiredly into your bowl – surely you remember letting the waiter know that you had an allergy.

“you did.”

before you could even turn your head to reply to his reassurance, alhaitham flags down the same, tired waiter. he trudges to your table, serving tray tucked between his arm and body.

“can i be of service?”

“excuse me, i believe we mentioned earlier that they couldn’t have nuts.” alhaitham stares at him in the eye, glancing briefly at your bowl with spat-out nuts beside it. the waiter grabs it, letting out a soft sigh of frustration.

“you are a service professional, are you not?” alhaitham interrupts the languid movement; yet he does not break the stare.

“sir, i am just a wa–”

“my apologies. are you are a paid member of this establishment?”

“i am.” the waiter nods in quiet submission. it is better to shut up than to argue with a man who loves.

“you understand the laws regarding a customer’s health and safety, do you not? even if it’s tiresome, if they had gone into an anaphylactic shock here in your cafe, i believe it would have been a matter of time before an investigation is launched and a lawsuit is filed.”

you hear alhaitham soften at the word they. they. you. you are important enough to him that he’d quietly, but fiercely rip into the waiter over your allergy. (alhaitham wishes you felt important enough to care about your health instead of apologising for not speaking loud enough.)

the waiter steels himself and takes your bowl back to the kitchen without another word.

“thank you,” you turn to alhaitham. “that meant a lot.”

you show him a soft smile, and alhaitham feels a wave of silent thankfulness wash over himself – that you sit before him, wearing a bright and sweet smile and not a pained grimace from struggling to breathe, on your features. he feels the same warmth in his chest once again.

“you don’t need to thank me.”

alhaitham remembers, even when it feels like no one else does.

the third act of love. holding, when your skin feels achingly colder.

alhaitham does not strike people as a touchy person; his love language is not physical touch. touch scares him a little, even. the thought that a simple loving gesture could be twisted and morphed into a threatening hold scares even the most intelligent and strong of men – but he is human, and that is enough for him to appreciate lingering touches on his back as and when he needs and wants to.

he sees you – fingers twitching and rubbing against each other, clumsily tapping against your palms then scrunching inwards – you need touch. you need to be held. it was as simple and as crucial as breathing. your fingers press in inwards of itself, and he watches the colour recede and return once again as you loosen your grip.

“come here,” alhaitham gestures, wrapping your hand around his. there’s something comforting about how your hand is smaller than his; it’s not that much smaller, but it’s smaller all the same. if you curled yourself up even more, perhaps you’d be able to fit into the palm of his hands.

“don’t do that. you’ll hurt yourself.”

“do what?” you look at him quizzically.

“i wasn’t sure if you were unaware, but you tend to self-soothe and search for touch.” he sighs quietly, absent-mindedly stroking your purlicue as he turned back to his book.

“although i believe you search for it too much. press too hard, and you’ll start to feel numb.”

“ah.” you stare at your hands – the left, which he holds, and the right, resting on the cool table.

“thank you.”

“i said before, there is no need to thank me. if it is a simple matter regarding your well-being, i would do–” he stops himself. anything, is left hanging in silence.

“i would be happy to resolve that matter.”

even holding you? would he dare hold something so shamefully broken?

“thank you...” you close your eyes. he hesitates; just once.

“you don’t sound pleased, nor satisfied. was it something i said?” you hear his voice soften.

no, it’s not you. you shake your head quietly, resting your head against your right palm on the table.

“it’s alright. you do not have to talk if you don’t wish to.” alhaitham replies. you feel him smoothing your hair back – a touch so soft and tender, you can hardly believe it to be for yourself. it was intoxicating; his touch lacked lust, full in love– you have never been loved (loved?) like this before.

you feel slightly warmer now.

the fourth act of love. comforting, when there seems to be no one in your corner.

“i just wanted them to be different. just this once. is that too much to even ask?”

alhaitham holds you tightly as you sob and lament; he holds tighter than he ever has before, and he mourns. he mourns for the walls you had slowly built up over time dawn with the realisation that it had been justified all along; alhaitham knows how hard you have begged for them to be unneeded.

“i know.”

you hiccup, ducking beneath his arm tiredly – and he holds you gently. he holds you, arm resting on the crook of your neck as you rest against a pillow on his side – he holds you like he has done it all his life. fitting yourself – not small but not big – into his frame, alhaitham thinks, may very well be the most natural thing the world has brought him.

“they had no right to treat you like that. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not your fault.” you sniffle.

archon, it hurt. you were going to get hurt in every lifetime, you know that– no, you deserved it. that has been etched into your mind since day one of starting your work. that was just who you were. the poor, miserable corner-sitter who had nothing else to do but correct their own mistakes. no initiative, no ounce of thought. why had the akademiya even hired you if its own people despised you?

“you don’t deserve to be hurt over and over, you know.”

how did he know?

“you said that aloud.”

you mumble a soft sorry, and he replies, shaking his head.

“it isn’t your fault,” alhaitham echoes your previous sentiment, almost teasingly.

“i believe you’re smart enough to figure that out.”

before you look up at his tousled hair to reply, you feel a soft kiss pressed to your forehead.

a kiss.

his kiss.

“if you find them still bothering you, come and talk to me. the scribe’s position is – it may not be much – but i know with my place within the akademiya, they will listen. i promise you this,” he holds your warm hands in his broader ones.

“if they do not stop, i will leave. i have no regard for a company that will not protect its own workers.”

he wants to say a company that will not protect you, but thinks otherwise. perhaps it is too much right now after his impulsive kiss – that is the one thing that alhaitham mulls over. he has never been impulsive before; always thinking through and filtering and being rational and all the things that makes alhaitham, alhaitham. being impulsive is not a trait others describe him by. 

so why, you–?

the fifth act of love. loving you, even when you believe people cannot.

–because he loves you, and alhaitham cannot, for the life of him and even with all the overbearing advice from kaveh and more bearable guidance from nahida – he cannot put it into words. for the first time in his life, alhaitham stumbles over himself, words tumbling out like love letters hastily shoved into a sack with a cut into it.

“what is so special about me? you’re always here, alhaitham, yet you never grow sick of me.” he finds himself caught off guard when you ask suddenly, caught in today’s throes of anxiety. your words hang cautiously on your tongue like a snake waiting for the moment a displeased reaction appears – whether you hiss or hide, is something alhaitham feels a modicum of curiosity about, pulsing, and pulsing, until he tries.

“you-”

there are too many things that he can think of, he feels. nahida, give me strength.

“you are- you are kind. and generous. you have a heart for people even when they do not have one for you.” he starts, slowly.

“you listen intently, and you enable people to open and talk. they talk because you listen and you support them with all your soul and it is so evident that you love.”

you want to cry.

“i admit i am not good with words, but you deserve every vow i utter tonight. you love so loudly, and you feel no shame for it – you have inspired me, and i dare confess that there have been many times i have desired to pull back, out of worry that i have felt the distinct possibility that i was about to fall in love with you.”

oh. you blink as if that hasn’t been obvious enough.

alhaitham is deeply and madly in love with you.

“i love you, not only because you are special, but also because i believe you deserve every ounce of love i can retrieve from myself. i know it has been made clear to you that others do not feel the same way, and it hurts to believe that some of it has come from those i know – i promise to be different–”

“you already are, alhaitham.” you feel yourself choke up. love is entangling itself around your trachea and holding you hostage, never letting go.

“you have never treated me with the same contempt. i love you, i know you return my feelings and for that i am thankful. i’m sorry that i’m not an easy person to love, please...” you trail off, feeling his body collide into yours. alhaitham holds you. he holds you, hand on your back and the other cradling your head against his shoulder.

“i want to love you,” he whispers into your hair.

“please let me.”

ask alhaitham, however? you see a soft smile adorns his features as he mulls over the question of what love is to him. love, forever yours, evermore.

[bsturnzmtts]

How older bf! Matt asked sweetheart! Reader to be his girlfriend…

It was a quiet afternoon, and Matt had invited you for a walk in the park, a spot you two had discovered together a few weeks go. It was peaceful here, the sounds of birds chirping and the gentle rustle of leaves filling the air. The two of you walked side by side,as you talked about everything from your favorite childhood memories to silly things that made you laugh.

“Come here, I have a surprise for you.” Matt suddenly says with a smirk on his lips.

“A surprise?” You ask confused.

“Yeah come here.” He puts himself behind you and gently puts a ribbon around your head so you can’t see.

“Matt what is this?” You ask with a nervous chuckle.

"Shh, just trust me." He says softly, his warm breath tickling your ear. He gently guides you forward, his hands on your shoulders. After a few moments of walking, he stops you and turns you around. "Okay, ready?" He asks, his hands hovering over the ribbon.

“Mmh I guess.” You say nervous not knowing what to expect.

He swiftly removes the ribbon, revealing the surprise. You find yourself standing in front of a beautifully decorated picnic blanket, filled with your favorite snacks and a basket of wildflowers. "Ta-da!" He exclaims, spreading his arms wide. "Do you like it?"

You blinked in surprise, taking in the sight of the picnic spread out before you. The sun filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow over everything, and the soft sound of the breeze seemed to make the moment even more magical. “Do I like it?… Matt I love it! This is amazing.” You said, your voice full of awe.

He grins mischievously, clearly pleased with your reaction. "I thought you might." He pulls you into his arms, "I wanted to create a perfect moment just for us. Sit down with me, will you?" He gestures to the blanket.

You hesitated for a moment, looking away shyly. “I didn’t think you’d do all this for me,” you murmured, feeling your face heat up, as you two sit down.

Matt smiled, a bit of warmth in his eyes as he squeezed your hand. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve it.”

“Thank you.” You reply in a still flustered tone.

As the afternoon goes on, the two of you find yourselves laughing and talking more easily than ever before. Matt finds himself stealing glances at you, admiring the way the sunlight catches your hair and the genuine smile on your face.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice a little hesitant, “and I want to ask you something.”

Your stomach fluttered as you looked at him, wondering what was coming next.

“I like you,” he said, his voice low but filled with sincerity. “A lot. And I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while… would you be my girlfriend?”

For a moment, you were stunned, your heart racing as his words sank in. But the warmth in his eyes, the tenderness of the moment, made it feel so right. Your face turned completely into a shade or pink. You can’t believe this is happening. Your first boyfriend? “Matt… yes.” You answered feeling your nervousness at its fullest.

Matt's face breaks out into a huge smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He leans in, cupping your face gently with his hand, and presses his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss. When he pulls back, he's still smiling, looking happier than you've ever seen him.

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[wlwxreader]

Queen of the Wilderness

not my gif

Yandere!Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

Summary: After the crash, came the need for survival. And with that, came the hunger. When you get selected as The Queen of Hearts, your girlfriend Lottie does everything she can to keep you safe, and starts to think of you of some kind of almighty being

Warning(s): obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, cannibalism, mentions of blood, Lottie being a cult leader, power dynamics, protective!Lottie

Word Count: 2.6 k words

Request: here

A/N: might make a part 2 idk

Masterlist: tba

You had lost count of how many months you have been stuck in the forest with your teammates.

You used to keep a very precise count. Every time you woke up, you would add another number to the figure. You would repeat it throughout the day, like a mantra that kept you sane.

You stopped counting when Jackie died, and Lottie started to talk about the Wilderness.

It made no sense to keep count anymore. No one would ever come to rescue you. You didn’t want them to, after what you had done. You all had broken a sacred human oath; you had eaten human flesh. Your soul would be forever tainted. It was only fair that you had to live the rest of your days like that, always hungry, always weighed down by your mistakes.

Lottie had changed too, but in a way you didn’t expect to. She was the leader of the group now, always keeping everyone on check.

She also kept them fed.

You never questioned her. You knew her. You knew she was doing whatever she could to keep the group together, and alive. You had known her your entire life, you knew she wouldn’t hurt a fly.

You knew it.

So when they started doing the card game, and she was a willing participant, you knew it was for the best.

“We have to do it, Y/N,” she whispered quietly, rubbing your back as you dry heaved over a bucket. You were in the attic, it was late at night. You could see her silhouette only because of the moon light, shining through the naked trees.

“I know,” you whispered. You moved away from the bucket. No matter how much you hated yourself, your weakened body couldn’t bring itself to throw up.

You had just eaten a person, and you were so hungry you would have gone for another round.

“Come here,” she whispered. Her hands were cold, but when you rested your head on her chest, she was warm. So damn warm against the coldness.

“I hate it,” you said. You wanted to sob, but were too tired to do so.

“I know, baby.”

Her voice was soft, unlike when she talked to the group. With you, she was still warm, she was still Lottie.

“What do you think we would be doing now, if the plane never crashed?” you asked. You used to ask a lot of questions lately; you needed to hear her voice, so it would drown out everything else.

“We’d be in college,” Lottie said. She ran her hand through your hair, and you sighed. “We would be in the same university. I would’ve gotten us a place close to college, and we would be living together.”

“You think?” you asked, sleepily.

“Yeah,” Lottie said, with a certainty that made you feel relaxed. “We’ll always be together, baby. Always.”

You hummed, closing your eyes. You fell into a dreamless sleep, and Lottie allowed you, sitting down on the floor. When she was certain you wouldn’t wake up, she carried you to bed and put all the blankets she could find over your body.

She left the attic with a kiss on your forehead. Almost everyone was already sleeping, laying as close to the fire as they could be. Natalie was laying against one of the walls, deep in thought.

“Have we run out of meat already?” Lottie asked. She crossed her arms, waiting for the blonde to reply.

“We have food for tomorrow’s lunch,” she said. Her eyes were on the rifle, as if she was considering how crazy it would be to get out in the middle of the night to find an animal.

“That’s it?” Lottie looked out the window, as she too was wondering the same thing.

“Yeah,” Natalie sighed. She looked reluctant to even speak the words. “Tomorrow, we’ll have to play again.”

Play. Lottie almost laughed at the word. They haven’t played in too long. Not even since the plane crashed.

“Okay,” she said instead. “I’ll work on it.”

Lottie came back to the attic, and laid down beside you. She put her hand on your cheek, and smiled when you moved closer, seeking her out even in your sleep.

Lottie knew what they were doing, what she was doing, would be considered psychotic if anyone outside of the group were to find out. But they couldn’t hear the whispers that came with the wind, they couldn’t feel the hunger that stuck like cheap gum on long hair. They couldn’t, but she could, and she knew she had to listen to the wilderness to keep you alive.

You were the most important person in her life. You were her lifeline. When she first saw you, her breath had stopped for a second. She had wanted you ever since, and had done everything to ensure you stayed by her side. She had the means for it. Especially now, in the middle of nowhere, with a group of people that would do anything she asked for.

“I’ll keep you safe,” she whispered against your hair. “I promise.”

The Queen of Hearts.

The card stared back at you, almost mockingly.

You swallowed hard, looking around the room. You wanted to take it all in, the tranquility of the cabin before you turned the card around and everyone would be craving your meat like wild animals.

Your eyes caught Lottie’s. She looked beautiful, with her antler crown and her dark brown hair falling on soft waves. She looked back, always aware whenever you looked at her, and the smile she gave you froze midway when she noticed your face.

“No,” she said, arms falling down to her sides. All strength seemed to leave her all at once. While the others kept choosing a different card from the stack, she walked up to you in fast steps.

“Run.”

You looked into her wild eyes, feeling her fingers digging into your arms. You blinked once, twice, and then once more, and before you knew it, the card was on the ground and you were running towards the door.

“It’s Y/N,” Shauna said. She looked detached, gone. Her eyes no longer had any warmth in them.

“Fuck,” Natalie said, looking at Lottie. She rushed to grab the rifle and held tight onto it, making sure no one else would grab it and use it to hunt you.

“She can’t get away,” someone said, and it was as if a light switch was turned on.

Everyone except Lottie and Natalie left the cabin, searching for you. They screamed your name, running in different directions to find you.

“This can’t be right,” Lottie said, completely out of it. She stared at the door, eyes out of focus. “Y/N is mine. They wouldn’t hurt her. The wilderness promised. I promised.”

“I—” Natalie was lost for words. She had never been okay with anything they were doing. She felt guilty; if she had managed to find enough food to keep everyone well fed… “I’m so sorry, Lot.”

Hours went by, and you remained hidden.

You moved stealthily, remembering all the advice Nat had taught you in those times you hunted with her.

Keep your head down. Use the woods to your advantage. Never look back, always move forward.

You did as she had told you all those weeks ago. You could hear them all around you, steps that never flattered unlike yours, screams that called for your blood, for your death.

You kept going, until you fell down. You almost moaned, but held yourself back in time. If they heard you now, it would be over.

You looked at your foot, grabbing it. It hurt like a bitch.

Something moved to your left, and you ignored the pain to get up. You couldn’t fight anyone sitting on the floor.

Instead, you found yourself staring at a white hare. You blinked in disbelief. It couldn’t be possible. Nat and Travis had said time and time again there were no animals left to hunt.

So why was a hare right in front of you?

You watched as it dug into the snow, disappearing from sight. You crawled towards the place the animal had just been at, and you noticed a small hole. With desperation, using the last remaining rays of sunlight, you moved the snow away, trying to find what you thought could be your salvation.

The hare’s den.

Your hands were numb and freezing by the time you found it. There were at least ten of them, piled up together in their home to keep safe from the cold. You felt sorry for a second before you reached for the first one, wasting no time to twist its neck.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered as you sobbed. You took off your jacket, and laid the animal there. You did the same with the others, only thinking of how long they would keep the group fed.

They wouldn’t go rotten for a while if you kept them by the snow, and someone could make broth with them. If the group was smart, the animals laying on your jacket would keep you fed for well over a month.

You got up when you were done, trying not to think of what you had just done with those innocent hares. Your steps were clumsy and uneven, what with the snow and your throbbing ankle. You took a big sigh, and walked back to the cabin, hoping you could explain yourself before you were attacked by someone, anyone.

When you saw lights by the cabin, you almost went back into the woods. They had regrouped, probably arranging themselves into different groups to cover the entire forest until they found you.

Taissa was the first one to notice you, limping toward the cabin. In a moment of loyalty you had thought long forgotten, she shut her mouth and turned back around, giving you some ahead time to run.

But you didn’t. You moved forward, stepping loudly so everyone could hear.

“Y/N,” Lottie said, out of breath. She ran towards you, wrapping her arms tightly around you, knees deep in the snow you had just fallen to, incapable of holding yourself up anymore.

You knew then, with the way she was holding you, that she would die protecting you. She wouldn’t move away from you even if they crawled at her skin until they reached muscle and bone.

“Lottie,” Shauna said, almost weary. “Move away from Y/N.”

“You won’t take her away from me,” Lottie said. You had never heard her sound so fierce.

“We need food,” Misty said.

“I have food,” you said. Your voice was muffled by Lottie’s chest.

“What?”

You moved away from your girlfriend, and rested the jacket on the ground. Silence was the only response you recieved.

Everyone looked at the hares, in complete confusion.

“It’s not possible,” Natalie said. She kneeled down in front of you and grabbed one of the hares, as if to check if they were real.

“It is,” Lottie said, with a conviction that made you furrow your eyebrows. “Y/N has brought us food. She’s the Wilderness’ daughter.”

“What?” Shauna asked, looking between you and the hares.

“Can’t you see?” Lottie asked, getting up. She faced the entire group with a smile on her face. “She is mine, and she is protected by the Wilderness. The Wilderness is her mother.”

You wanted to shake your head, to tell Lottie to shut up, but you were still in shock. In a few days, you would process everything that had happened and finally understand the severity of the situation, of just how close you had been to being hunted by your own friends, but at the moment you couldn’t think of anything except how scared you were, so you just allowed Lottie to wrap her arms around your forearms, trying to help you get up.

“My foot,” you complained.

“Someone hurt you?” she asked, sweetly. Too cheerful given the situation.

“No.”

But Lottie didn’t hear you. She got up again, looking at the crowd with fire in her eyes.

“Do you see what you have done?” she asked. “You hurt her. You know what would’ve happened if someone had taken her from me?”

The group remained silent, looking at Lottie as if they were mesmerized. A few of the girls had kneeled down to grab one of the hares, them checking too if they were real, and had stayed there, kneeling in front of your girlfriend.

“Everyone would have been killed by the Wilderness. She has been benevolent this time, allowing you to hurt what’s mine and still keeping you fed. But it won’t happen again.”

You looked in disbelief as everyone nodded.

“Now go work on dinner, and be thankful for the food she has brought.”

To your utter surprise, Lottie grabbed you bride style and lifted you up. She made you rest your head on her shoulder, and carried you back to the cabin. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” she whispered as she sat you down in one of the chairs that were by the fire. She kneeled before you, and took off your shoes. “I should’ve kept you safe. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

You watched as she got up to get the little medical supplies there were left. She kneeled and grabbed your swollen foot, and left a kiss on your shin.

“I’ll do better next time,” she promised. She wrapped some bandage over the afflicted zone, apologizing when you complained. “I will. No more card games for you. No one is ever going to touch you again. No one but me.”

“Lottie…”

She gave you a smile after she was done with the bandage. It was slightly crooked, and a little tight, and she knew she should have asked Misty to do it, but she would rather die than see another woman touching you.

You were hers. She could finally understand— it had all happened for a reason. The two of you meeting, you joining the football team, the plane crash… It was all for a reason.

“Don’t you see, baby?” she asked, eyes wide open. A smile split her face in half, making you slightly uneasy. “You are mine. My queen. The child of the Wilderness. We both look out for you.”

On any other day, you would have been combative. You would have told her she was overreacting, and that she should calm down. That the entire thing was maddening, and it was no one’s fault.

But you were so tired, and your leg hurt, and you wanted to cry over the betrayal you had felt when your friends had tried to kill you to eat you.

So instead, you nodded, and followed her back to the attic.

“My baby,” Lottie wrapped a jacket around your shoulders. “You must’ve been so cold. But not anymore.”

She kissed your shoulder when you laid behind her on the bed, and you allowed her to hold you through the night.

Lottie smiled when she felt your breath slow down, indicating you had fallen asleep.

She could hear noises downstairs. The girls were already preparing dinner. She would go down in a while to grab food for the two of you, but until then, she held you tight.

[cutestbow]

Notes: I’m finally back (again) and writing for the au!!

: also very unedited!!!

June 9th 2019

Penelope watched as the trees passed and the salty smell of the ocean instantly replaced the smell of sweaty boys.

The Hughes had invited her on their beach trip as a birthday gift, she obviously accepted. But now she was starting to regret accepting.

The reason being she could feel her ribs about to pop due to how tight they had been stuffed in the car. She had been on the verge of tears the whole ride, the only thing keeping her even close to sane being Jack’s stupid jokes here and there.

Luke had noticed Penny’s squirming and discomfort twenty minutes ago, since then he’s been trying to think of ways to help her.

Penelope looked over for a second watching Luke whisper something to Quinn. She watched as he moved over slightly and the sqeezing pain she felt before reduced just the slightest.

She sighed in relief at the sudden feeling, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

“better?” Luke whispered in her ear.

She nodded whispering a soft “thank you”

Luke nodded going back to scroll on his phone before catching the bitchy grin from his brother sitting on the other side of Penelope.

“What?” He mouthed

Jack shook his head, still smirking. “Nothing”

Luke rolled his eyes at his brother antics, immediately going back to whatever he had been doing on his phone.

The second they arrived at the beach Ellen had to verbally scold the boys before they left the car and ran anywhere that they had to help set up their spot on the beach.

It took them about 30 minutes to set up before the boys were moving slow, jim eventually gave up and told them to just go.

Since then Penelope had been walking around the board walk. She couldn’t find anything in the stores she liked specifically so she just decided to save her money for today.

She looked over the railing and out towards the beach, spotting a familiar curly headed boy swimming in the water alone.

She frowned to her self feeling bad for a moment, she thought for a moment before deciding to join him.

“I’m joining you, because you look sad” she rambled, shivering while entering the cold water.

“Sad?” He questioned raising his eyebrow as she swam to meet in front of him.

The water stopped just at his chest, that wasn’t the case for Penelope. The water stopping right at the base of her neck.

“Mhm” she replied, holding herself in her arms.

“Whys that?” He asked tilting his head

“I dunno” she shrugged smiling slightly.

“You’re shivering” he pointed out.

“I’m fine” she waved off, not wanting him to worry about her in the moment.

“You know what I heard” he spoke, his hands sliding to each side of her waist.

“What’s that?” She answered quietly, her heart rate increasing at the sudden touch.

“If you dunk someone who’s cold underwater it’ll make them warm” he grinned as her face dropped.

“Luke no” she panicked as his grip became tighter.

Luke laughed as she tried to swim away from his grip

“Luke stop” she laughed as he fully wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her out of the water.

“1..2..3!” He shouted before slamming them both underwater.

Penelope gasped once resurfacing, watching as Luke laughed when she splashed him with water.

The whole evening was spent with Luke and Penelope splashing and laughing in the water, both of them completely loosing track of time.

“There they are.” Quinn grumbled in an annoyed tone as luke made his way back to the truck with Penelope on his back.

Their laughter slowly died down as they noticed the annoyed and angry faces on the rest of the family.

“Where have you guys, been we’ve been looking for you two everywhere, Luke I called you ten times!” Ellen exclaimed.

“Oh, I didn’t have my phone on me” he replied as Penelope slid off his back, going to stand next to him like two toddlers who just got in trouble for making a mess.

“We probably lost track of time, we were in the water the whole day” Penelope spoke for the both of them, not wanting to throw Luke under the bus.

“Ya think?” Jack replied getting into the car after Quinn.

“Sorry Ellen we won’t do it again.” Penelope apologized.

Ellen sighed, “it’s fine get in the car” she replied in a forgiving tone.

Penelope looked over at Luke smiling at his playful grin before also getting into the car.

[nethhiri]

Part 7:

Warnings: Violence

Kamazo seemed to be more mindful with you after that. Even when the dark look entered his eyes, something was still present to prevent him from being overly rough with you. You kept traveling north, and as it got colder, he stayed closer to you and helped block the wind. He brought you a heavy cloak to keep you warm and if it snowed, he held you steady in the slippery areas. Perhaps the most shocking, he started talking more, asking about you, telling trivial tidbits about himself. You learned he particularly loved anything noodle-based. It made the long traveling times more bearable. He wouldn't answer anything on a deeper level, so you stopped asking. He only got upset with you once, when you asked about family. That made him go silent for a day or two. A handful of times you had to stop to be sick, but he didn't seem to mind. He held your hair back if you needed it and gave you water to rinse your mouth out. Even though you ate the same things, he didn't seem affected. It was probably your body getting used to eating more and richer foods than you had been previously. Now, Kamazo and yourself were traveling between towns, through an open snow field. 

"Are you okay?" Kamazo asked.

You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand after retching, yet again. "Yeah. It's just the food."

"Something's wrong with my cooking?"

"No! I love your cooking, Kam." You offered him a coy smile and continued. "I think my body is still getting used to it."

"It's been months."

"Yeah."

"And you weren't like that in the beginning."

You shrugged. "I don't know. What else could it be?"

Kamazo eyed you, contemplating something. "Come here." He lifted his arm so you could be pulled into his side, with his arm resting on your shoulders. "You know I will take care of you, right?" There was a shred of something unfamiliar in his eyes, a warmth you had seen flicker once before, when you had asked about family. This time, he wasn't angry.

"You have," you replied, unsure of where he was going with this. He had never been sentimental before.

"...I'm speaking of the future, Sparrow."

"I don't understand."

"You, me, ...and-" 

Kamazo held his finger to his lips. In a flash, there was a man covered head to toe in black that seemed to come from thin air. Before you could scream, the man handed something to Kamazo, and disappeared as fast as he had materialized. Kamazo didn’t seem fazed by the apparition, in fact, he seemed to be expecting it. Kamazo opened the thing that was handed to him, a note of some kind. He read it and let the breeze carry it away from his open palm. 

Kamazo never finished what he was going to say. The note seemed to change his demeanor. The coldness was back, and the darkness was creeping in. He seemed to be in a rush after that, letting you ride on his back while he trudged through the snow. You had been slowing him down considerably. He stopped when you came upon the stump of an old, large tree. It was hollow and big enough for a person to shelter in it. Kamazo set you down, wrapped your cloak around you tighter, and left some dried fruit for you to snack on. 

“Be good, Sparrow.” He touched your cheek.

You nuzzled into his hand and nodded.

Hours had passed and Kamazo had not returned. This happened a lot, but there was an unsettling feeling within you. There had been some loud noises and metallic clanging in the distance, with silence afterword. You waited as long as you could bear it. Your heart squeezed in your chest and you were beginning to get anxious. At the risk of being scolded, you decided to look for him. What if something had happened to him? You weren’t sure what you could do for him if something had happened. You tried not to think about it.

You followed his footprints through the snow. A few times, you had to sit and catch your breath. Soon, you noticed there were additional footprints, an adult and a child. The child’s footprints disappeared after some time, with only an adult’s left. The adult’s footprints seemed to get farther apart, like they were running. Running from the bigger footprints? Kamazo’s footprints? You followed with a bit more haste, hesitating only when you considered you might come upon him killing someone. You didn’t like seeing him like that. Even though you knew what he was, you could imagine him being someone much more, friendly, affectionate, maybe even loving. You could sense that it was tucked down deep within him, buried in the personality that took over when he was working.

In the distance, you could make out a bridge. Closer, there was a shape on the ground, lightly dusted with snow. Your heart dropped when you saw the familiar fabric of Kamazo’s clothing sticking out. You hyperventilated, seeing red staining the white snow.

“Kamazo!” You struggled to run through the deep snow, falling once on the way to him. You dropped to your knees at his side. “Kamazo! Kam!”

You brushed the falling snow from his body and attempted to flip him onto his back. There was a pool of blood under him that made your actions increase in desperation. No matter how hard you tugged and pushed, you could not budge him. He was solid muscle and much bigger than you. You panted and strained until you couldn’t try anymore. He felt colder. The only thing you could do now was to share body heat and hope that someone would find you. Even then, what would they do with you? Kamazo was a murderer, too many crimes to ignore, and you were a whelp of a person, made to ignore. 

“It's me, Kam.” You tried to keep your voice from shaking as you laid next to him, partly on top of him, and spread your cloak to cover both of you. "It's your Sparrow." 

It was cold. Being still in the brisk wind and snow had sapped the warmth from your bones. You pressed yourself closer to Kamazo, shivering uncontrollably. Each minute that passed, you were reminded of how useless and weak you were. When it mattered, you couldn't do anything. Maybe this was how you could repay him, keep him warm until someone finds him. Even if you died of hypothermia in the process, it was worth it. You enjoyed the short time he had given you, being truly alive. 

When night set in, it was much colder than you thought possible and your eyes fought to stay open. They never strayed from Kamazo’s face. He didn’t so much as twitch. Your lips and mouth were dry, continuously talking to him, hoping he could hear you thank him and whisper how much you loved him. Your body became very warm and sleepy even though the outside air felt like cold knives. Something told you it was safe to close your eyes. It was lying. That, you could tell. Your eyes slowly fell shut. You thought maybe you had seen the ice blue sliver of Kamazo’s irises staring back at you before they closed, but it was probably your imagination.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kamazo let out a final laugh as he faded in the cold snow. It was cruel. Just as he dared think he could have a family again, it was ripped from him. 

Killer watched with a broad smile under his mask as Heat fixed you up to look more like a Kid Pirate. He was on the deck, grilling food for your welcome party. It seemed like it was yesterday that he found you in Wano. Killer sighed, full of happiness. He had Kid and he had you. He couldn't want for much else. When Heat was done, you bounded up to Killer.

"It's me, Kil." You did a spin so he could see you. "It's Sparrow." You waved to Heat, thanking him. 

Killer leaned down to bump his helmet softly against your head, his version of a kiss. "Very cute." 

"Don't lie to the lass. Sparrow looks more like a fuckin egg." Kid cackled from the helm.

"Fuck off, Kid!" Killer wrapped his arm around your shoulders, glancing down at the glow on your face and round belly eclipsing your shorts.

You rubbed your bump. "I want to name it Kam. Is that... okay?" You looked up at him, chewing your lip.

Kamazo stirred in the snow, startled by his dream. His eyes were open briefly, enough to see yours close next to him, before closing again, this time sending him into nightmares.

Tag List: @nocturnalrorobin @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @fendifendi @eustasscapitankid @iggy5055 @hannahbarberra162 @mapachito

[oliver-lennox]

"You make it kinda hard not to stare..."

I murmured, my voice soft and laced with affection.

He was stretched out on the Ravenclaw common room sofa, his dark brown hair gave him an effortlessly charming look. The flickering light from the fireplace cast golden shadows over his sharp features, making him appear almost ethereal in the quiet of the night.

He glanced up at me, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh? Is that so?" he teased, his tone light but his gaze warm, as if he knew the effect he had on me.

I sat down in the armchair opposite him, my book resting forgotten in my lap. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, the way he seemed so at ease, his crossed long legs rested on the sofa, his head resting against the armrest. He was completely relaxed, yet there was an undeniable magnetism about him, something that drew me in no matter how hard I tried to look away.

"You’re too distracting," I admitted, a playful lilt in my voice as I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hand. "How am I supposed to get anything done when you’re like this?"

He chuckled softly, the sound low and intimate in the stillness of the common room. "Well, I didn’t ask you to stare, did I?" he said, his teasing tone matched by the glint in his eyes. "But if you must… I don’t mind."

My cheeks warmed at his words, but I couldn’t help smiling. "You’re not usually like this," I said, shaking my head, though the truth was, I didn’t want to look away. Not tonight. Not ever.

He raised an eyebrow, his smile widening as he stretched lazily, his movements so effortless they only added to his charm. "Not usually like this?" he repeated, feigning offense. "And what exactly am I like, then?"

I leaned back in the armchair, crossing my arms with a small smirk. "Oh, you know," I said, pretending to think. "Usually, you’re all books and brilliance, the perfect Ravenclaw. Serious, focused, a little intimidating."

He laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet room like a melody. "Intimidating, huh? That’s a new one." His gaze softened, his teasing tone giving way to something quieter, more earnest. "Maybe it’s just you, then. You make me want to be like this—relaxed, playful... happy."

My heart skipped a beat at his words, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. His sincerity disarmed me, his eyes holding mine in a way that made the rest of the world fade away.

I managed a small laugh, trying to mask the fluttering in my chest. "You’re dangerous when you talk like that, you know."

"Am I?" he asked, his voice dropping lower, his head tilting slightly as he studied me. "Or am I just honest?"

I swallowed, my cheeks warming even more under his gaze. "Maybe a little of both," I admitted quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled at that, the kind of smile that felt like it was meant just for me. Slowly, he shifted, sitting up on the sofa and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The flickering firelight caught in his eyes, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.

"You know," he said softly, his tone almost contemplative, "I don’t mind if you stare."

My breath caught, and I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head again. "You’re impossible," I said, though the affection in my voice betrayed me.

"And yet," he murmured, leaning just a little closer, his eyes never leaving mine, "you’re still here."

[aprito]

saddest man in suna the yearning does not stop even when she's right next to him

[piastappies]

𝜗𝜚 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝜗𝜚

⋆ pairing. oscar piastri x wife!leclerc!reader

⋆ summary. christmas is never calm, when the piastris are involved, or one would think.

⋆ notes. another part of dad!oscar series 😁😁😁 its honestly one of my favorites ever. this is a small christmas fic, but i might write another part of christmas at the piastris 😁 not proofread (i will do that one day i promise)

BEFORE YOUR DAUGHTER WAS BORN, you and oscar never spent christmas together. it was pretty understandable, he went back to australia to see his family, while you ended up in monaco, spending the festive moments along your family and your brothers’ girlfriends. however, you’d always spend new year’s together — whether it was australia or monaco, no one could make you leave each other’s side. nevertheless, as suspected, the problems started occurring as soon chloe’s second christmas came up.

her first christmas happened just after she was born, so there was really no conversation about going anywhere with a newborn baby, while pandemic was still going crazy. christmas in the following year was putting more and more stress on top of your shoulders. you barely seen your family all year, so the need to fly home was even stronger than ever, you couldn’t though. beside his dad, oscar hasn’t seen his family much either and asking him to go see yours for holidays seemed unfair, you were not the only one, who missed the warm embraces of their mothers.

“why don’t we all just come to your place, love?” nicole, oscar’s mum, suggested on one afternoon, making the tension in your shoulders loosen a bit. “there’s no point in stressing yourself out about flying with chloe, when we can just come to you.”

it almost seemed like a plan put together beforehand, because a few hours later your mum has called you, suggesting the exact same thing. even if it was a plan, you really appreciated trying to ease your nerves about christmas.

and it became a tradition, one you held dearly to your heart.

it’s been still a few days left till the twenty-fifth, so it was only nicole, who flew to monaco, her daughters would arrive near twenty-fourth to have a day to recharge. you were bundled up in a blanket, a small girl sitting on your lap, not wanting to be away from you as her tiny fists had tightened their grip on your shirt.

“i get puppy?” chloe asked, tipping her chin upwards to have a look at you before turning her head — so fast you thought it would snap in seconds — to look between your husband and his mom. “please, please puppy?” she repeated, jutting her bottom lip and flashed her brown eyes at oscar.

you raised an eyebrow at the aussie, awaiting his response. the possibility of him cracking and accepting your daughter’s pleas was high, considering that chloe had him wrapped around her little finger, or rather around her wrist like a leash she could tug on, and at first thought her dad would do whatever she wanted him to. his gaze shifted towards you as he let out a sigh, his heart breaking as he’s about to disappoint his only daughter.

“ah, squish, but you have a dog already, don’t you?” nicole started, catching her daughter’s attention. chloe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. she has a dog already? is he invisible? “basil and rosie are yours too, aren’t they?” she asked in a gentle tone, the four years old perking up at this revelation.

“i do!” she exclaimed happily, letting go of your shirt to clap her hands, a big beam creeping up on her lips. “basie and rosie!” she said, her head bobbing up and down ecstatically. “my doggies.”

“and leo.” you chimed in, gently rubbing your hand against chloe’s back. the mention of your brother’s daschmund made the beam falter. “you don’t like leo anymore, squish?” you asked, a bit taken aback at the sudden change.

a pout appeared on your daughter’s face, her tone slightly bashful as she tried to explain. “leo pee-ed on me.” oscar’s lips were pulled into a tight line as he tried to suppress a chuckle. “s’no funny!” she frowned at her dad’s antics.

“he was just excited to see you, baby.” you tried your best reasoning with your daughter. “leo’s still just a baby, you know? babies pee when they get excited, it means he reaaaally likes you.”

“daddy’s baby, too an’ he don’t pee on me.” she scrunched her nose, unmoved by your explanation. “daddy don’t like chloe?”

baby. that’s how you’ve been referring to oscar for as long as you could remember, making chloe think that her dad is as much of a baby as she is. in different circumstances, you’d just start laughing — some guys, your friends’ boyfriend or fathers, random people on the street, probably acted like babies towards their partners or maternal figures, but not your oscar. he was the eptiome of a great partner, friend, and a parent, despite being a bit messy and leaving socks on your bedroom floor a few times, if you wished for someone better, you’d still get your oscar, because there couldn’t be anyone better than him, not for you and your daughter.

“well… daddy loves you so, so much, squish.” he began coyly, kneeling in front of the couch, to brush his nose against chloe’s, as an act of affection. “but i’m not a doggie, am i?” he asked, and while your reasoning seemed completely off to chloe, she bought oscar’s within seconds.

“no, silly.” the four years old giggled, putting both of her hands on oscar’s cheeks, leaving a small, sloppy kiss on the tip of his nose. “you papa.” a beam stretched across her mouth. “no doggie.”

THE CHRISTMAS CAME QUICKLY, which you were profoundly content with. it was one of the rare moments, when you could spend the time with your entire family, both sides. there wasn’t enough words to describe the amount of love you held in your heart for oscar’s relatives. you spent lots of hours, talking to your in-laws on the phone, when you couldn’t see them in person. it was natural that you wanted them in your daughter’s life as much as possible.

usually, the apartment was as quiet as it could be with a preschooler, although with almost twenty people inside, it was a mess. a positive one, one you would cherish every time it happened. your mum chatting away with nicole, tim, and chris, your brothers engrossed in conversations with oscar, while you talked to alex, and oscar’s sisters as your soon to be sister-in-law played with your daughter on the carpet, leo sleeping on his usual spot on the couch.

when you all sat down to open gifts, chloe was no longer playing with charlotte as she occupied the spot on arthur’s lap, giggling quietly, when he tickled her once in a while just to pretend he didn’t as she tried to pat his hands away.

“i give gifts, too!” she suddenly spoke up, her voice filled with excitement, pointing to a dozen of tiny boxes standing neatly next to (or on top of) one another.

it was small figurines made out of modelling clay that your husband has bought for your daughter. it wasn’t much, but it made your daughter feel involved in the gift-giving tradition. of course, you helped her throughout the process, so the figurines wouldn’t be just colours mixed together with no shape.

“oh, mon étoile. did you make them yourself?” your mum asked, a warm smile stretching across her lips as she unpacked the tiny star made out of modelling clay. that’s what pascale always called chloe, étoile, which meant a star, because she was the brightest star in your mom’s universe.

chloe nodded proudly in response, puffing her chest as she unpacked arthur’s box for him. “‘s me!” she giggled in happiness, placing the figurine in her uncle’s hand. “now, you ‘ill ‘lways remember me!”

“i could never forget you, squish.” arthur whispered into her ear, though loud enough for you all to hear, making the girl laugh from the sensation of his face in such close proximity to her ear. “i’ll always have it with me, okay?”

in the end, everyone was enamoured with the small gifts made by your daughter, which made her feel super proud of herself. she got a few toys (that you’d previously accepted, because if you had one more loud toy, you’d shred yourself into pieces) and… a racing helmet.

“we are not doing a project piastri, or whatever you’d call that.” you announced, giving your older brother a judgemental look. was it a surprise that charles gifted your daughter a racing helmet? not really, as he’s been talking about taking chloe karting. “she’s four.”

“i was four, when i started too.” he argued, a bit playfully.

“look what that made you. crazy.” you shook your head, taking a glimpse of the mesmerised look in your daughter’s eyes. “she’s too small for a go-kart. you’d have to put velco strips on her back and the seat, so she wouldn’t fell out of the thing.”

“that’s doable.” the ferrari driver shrugged, as he helped chloe put on the purple helmet. “uncle charlie wouldn’t let his squishy face get hurt.” he cooed at the girl, making you roll your eyes in exasperation.

cheering and stressing over your husband’s career was a thing you could live with, but having both oscar, and your daughter racing and karting? your poor heart wouldn’t handle it.

“i drive like daddy soon?” the four years old in question said, her voice slightly muffled by the helmet. once again, she clapped her hands happily.

and somehow, after a nice meal and gift openings, you were stuck in a conversation with your brother about taking chloe karting, while she quietly asked one of your sisters in law what karting exactly was.

[hanasnx]

“ SHE JUST WENT TO HEAVEN AND BACK ” — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ sexual content: riding dick ノ playing dumb for a boy ノ some light humping ノ reader has kinda long hair ノ size difference.

you’re so desperate for clueless CLARK KENT’s attention that you play dumb and get him to mansplain his video game to you while you sit in his lap. he’s been busy lately and to get him to take the hint you wear one of your shortest skirts, invite yourself into the best seat in the house, and ask, “what’s this?” gesturing to his lit tv screen.

he explains it all, some boring lore he’s really into and the controls and the tricky part he’s stuck on right now.. and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. his pretty girl is sitting in his lap and he’s not even paying it any mind. but clark is paying it mind. he’s rambling bcos he’s nervous, and if you’d turn your head you’d see the pink dusting his cheeks. he can feel your bare thighs through his denim, and your floral shampoo fills his nose… he trails off mid sentence when he focuses too hard on the growing interest in his pants.

“i wanna play.” you say when you’ve had enough of his aimless babble, and without thinking it through, clark places the controller snugly in your palms, while his larger hands overlay yours.

“alright, so this button…” his thumb atop yours presses down in a click, and you see the avatar swipe air with his sword because of it. “is your attack move… and this—“ you’re not paying any attention to what he’s teaching you. instead, your brain conjures up evil memories of everything you’ve been missing. your eyes wander to the corner of his bed he’s sitting on, and you wish he’d fold you over on it like before. wrestle you down and pin you so he could flip your little skirt up and get to work. you’re tuning out his words while he’s playing the game over your hands which dampen with sweat, suddenly hot and bothered at the thought of him fucking you in this position… if only he were brave enough to unbuckle his pants.

your lips press together, your heart rate quickens, and clark’s ears perk up. thump thump… thump thump… thump thump…

he inhales sharply, right as the sting of what it feels like to be filled by him shoots up your core like lightning. you jump in place a little at the cruel trick your mind is playing on you, and the friction of your ass bumping against his halfie makes it twitch as it chubs up. the avatar’s HP lowers little by little as its enemies overwhelm it, but neither of you move.

“why didn’t you say anything?” clark’s breathless words come out husky and sultry as he chuffs them out of his teeth, lifting you up and down by your hips like you’re nothing more than a weight at the gym. your hands lay atop his, twisting your face as that cock buries itself right where you needed it, bullying that spongy spot in you sore from neglect. “i’ve been thinking about you, too…” he fills the silence, paired with the wet sounds of an eager pussy swallowing him up. he yanks you back, and you land on his chest still clothed, your hair bunches up on his shoulder while his lips find your ear. your hips now married with his, he rolls yours, screwing his dick into you like he’s rediscovering all your nooks n crannies.

one arm rounds you to secure you against him in a warm embrace, seeking out your clit between your spread legs, toying with it like taffy and it makes you whine.

“you didn’t have to act like you cared about my game,” he’s taunting you, right in your ear, ending it with a gentle nip of his teeth to your shell. the point of his canine sends a shock through you, and your legs straighten involuntarily. he keeps you where he wants you with overpowering strength, you can’t raise yourself when he’s got you in a vice. his thumb and index feel cruel against your bud, as if chastising you for trying to trick him.

“well, it worked, didn’t it?” you exhale, leisurely squirming against him desperate for some movement. there’s pride in your voice.

“this skirt worked.” he corrects. the skirt now bunched up around your waist about the same time he’d pushed his denim out of the way so he could free his cock and give you a new seat. “could hear your heartbeat, you were so obvious… c’mere.” he grants your wish for more, pushing you forward so he could gather your arms behind you. bent, your feet barely toe the ground while he uses your wrists to leverage you, tugging you back while he bounces you up with the force of his hips.

[redwing4life]

Home Cooked Meal

CHAPTER 4 | ASHES TO EMBERS

can be read as a stand alone :)

PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbour!Bucky x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut (finally) - dirty talk, pet names, oral f and m receiving, fingering, tit play, praise kink, hand kink?, ball play, hair pulling, unprotected PinV sex, aftercare, reader and bucky have dinner, swearing, fluff, let me know if i missed anything!

SUMMARY: You surprise Bucky with a home cooked meal after his shift, and it’s the best damn thing he’s had in years. The pasta was pretty good too.

WORD COUNT: 10550 (ngl i rechecked this three times cuz i didn’t think i wrote this much but turns out i did in fact write over 10k words im sorry lmao)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

Call me when you get home x

Your text still sits on Bucky’s lock screen, read but not opened, as he gets changed out of his work clothes.

It’s fair to say that the message intrigued him when he first read it half an hour ago, just before he left the firehouse. His legs sped up your building stairwell faster than normal, desperate to find out why you’re awaiting his call.

Knowing you would have said so if you were in immediate danger, Bucky sifts through the multitude of possibilities that await him on the other side of the ring tone; none of which ease the butterflies in his stomach.

He walks to his kitchen, phone in hand, to get a glass of orange juice. Pulling up your contact page, he presses ‘call’ and grabs the carton of juice from the fridge door.

You answer after just one ring, eager to hear his voice.

“Hey, Barnes!” God, Bucky loves your voice.

“Doll.” His voice is soft, tone rising at the end with curiosity. “You asked me to call, what’s up?”

The firefighter swoons at the adorable giggle you let out, the sound distant from the mic as though you’ve tried to hide it. “I was worried you didn’t see my text.” You admit.

Bucky pictures you biting your lip anxiously, an accurate prediction for your current state.

“What are you doing right now?”

Glancing down at the yet-to-be-filled glass in front of him, Bucky leans a hand against the kitchen island. “Just about to get a drink, what are-“

“Don’t!” You cut in. “Don’t get a drink, I need you to come over.”

“What, now? What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, James. Just come knock, okay? I’ll see you in a minute!”

And with that, the call cuts off with a dull beep; Bucky brings the phone down from his ear and stares at it in confusion. You’re being weird, never having hung up on him like that before.

Alpine meows from above the fridge, drawing her owner’s attention away from the phone, only to tilt her head at him.

Even Alps is confused.

Deciding to just do what you told, Bucky slips his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans, returns the orange juice to the fridge and sets off for the front door. He finds himself checking over his appearance in the entry way mirror, eyes scanning over his outfit before he smooths out his hair.

Although he won’t admit it, Bucky’s spent a lot more time in front of that mirror lately; checking his collar isn’t twisted, his hair isn’t too messy and there’s nothing stuck in his teeth. The need to look good, to look good for you, hasn’t gone unnoticed by his colleagues.

He considers using the spare key you gave him and letting himself into your apartment but shakes the thought away.

She asked you to knock, Bucky. Not break in.

With one final nod in the mirror, Bucky leaves his apartment, stepping into the hallway he’s spent so many mornings and nights in with you.

Old jazz music greets his ears when he approaches your door, the soft melody sneaking through the cracks of the door frame. Bucky smiles to himself at the thought of you dancing in your kitchen, heart warming when he notices your humming.

Knocking thrice, the firefighter steps back and nervously stuffs his hands into his pockets. You always make him nervous, those darn butterflies stirring in his stomach whenever he’s about to see you. And when he does see you. Actually, they’re there even when he imagines seeing you.

He takes a breath when he hears you shuffling up to the door, but nothing could prepare him for the sight when it swings open.

Rusty red fabric flows from your neckline to the middle of your thighs, small flowers dotted over the slightly orange colour. Two thin straps perched on your shoulders leave plenty of skin on show as your usual sun-pendant necklace sits between the v-neck of your dress. Which, by the way, perfectly presents the soft swell of your breasts.

It takes everything Bucky has to not drool at his breathtaking neighbour, but it takes even more to not dive on you and finally taste those pink lips.

Your skin is ablaze beneath his eyes and you revel in his reaction, the exact response you wanted when you pulled on the dress two hours ago.

“We’re matching.” You grin, taking a moment to enjoy Bucky’s red henley.

“It’s almost like we planned it.” A chuckle escapes him, eyes trailing up from your thighs to meet yours.

“Speaking of plans,” You reach out to pull Bucky closer, tugging his forearms until he pulls his hands out of his pockets, “I have a surprise for you.”

Is it letting me look at you in that dress all evening? Your neighbour thinks - hopes - as you lead him into your apartment.

Closing the door behind him, you take his hand in yours once more to guide him to your little kitchen/diner area. If you weren’t looking ahead, you’d see Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at your touch. Seeing your hand encompassed with his own will never fail to drive him crazy.

When he eventually looks up from your joined hands, he’s stunned to a halt. You turn back to him when you feel him plant his feet and your features twist into a nervous expression.

“I- Doll, what is all this?” The firefighters eyes are wide at your ‘surprise’.

Your small dining table is set up for two; cream place mats lay beneath charcoal gray pasta dishes with wine glasses sitting at their corners. There’s even a little vase with pink and yellow tulips in between the two spaces.

“Well, remember that time when you told me you haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in years?” You watch Bucky closely as you speak, waiting for some sign of approval.

“You mean this morning?” He turns to you in wonder, thinking back to your conversation as he gave you a lift to the cafe. “I don’t know what to say, doll.”

You roll back on your heels, hands scrunching your dress at your sides. “Is it okay? I know it’s a little cheesy and it’s last minute but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you after working all day. I mean, it’s not exactly at your home but it’s pretty cl-“

Bucky takes two long strides towards you and brings his hands to cup your cheeks; your words die on your tongue when he looks down at you with tender eyes.

“It’s perfect, Y/n.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone. “You could feed me Alpine’s food and i’d still bow at your feet, sweets.”

Now you’re the one blushing. You heart skips when Bucky’s eyes drop to your lips with hunger in his gaze.

“Always so good to me, aren’t ya?” His words tempt a whimper from deep within you, a submissive whine held back by the last of your restraint.

“Well-“

The oven beeps, its sharp tone darting between your bodies and making you step back from Bucky’s hold.

“Uhh” Your mind is all over the place as the firefighter watches you with amusement, “I- I should, I mean- the pasta must be-“

“Go, doll.” Bucky shakes his head laughing quietly.

Your dress sways as you spin away to the stove, stirring various pots and tidying up the counters. Your neighbour watches you in awe, unashamedly enjoying the view; you just look so goddamn sexy in that cute little dress while you cook for him. He wishes he could come home to this every night.

“You need a hand with anything, doll?” Bucky’s voice sounds from behind you.

“Actually, yeah!” You glance over your shoulder. “Come here.”

If you keep bossing him about, Bucky’s gonna struggle not to tear that sweet little sundress right off you.

Settling in at your side, Bucky cocks his head. “What d’ya need?”

You scoop some of the creamy tomato sauce onto a spoon and bring it to Bucky’s lips. “Try this for me.”

With bated breath, you watch his full lips wrap around the end of the spoon, his eyes bearing into yours as he drags the sauce into his mouth.

Bucky has no business looking as dirty as he does in this moment; you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows before his tongue juts out to catch a few missed drops. And just when you thought your panties would survive the sight, a moan ripples from his throat and you clench around nothing at the sound.

“Good?” You murmur, hoping he doesn’t notice when you cross your legs.

He notices.

“Delicious,” Bucky takes the spoon from your hand and stretches across you to place it back in the pan, his right hand brushing against the small of your back, “you did great, sweets.”

Fuck. Me.

You regather your composure and ask Bucky to get the wine from the fridge. He pours you both a glass, setting them back on the dining table gently before returning the bottle to its home.

“Hey, could you bring the bowls over, please?” You call over your shoulder.

You plate up the sauce coated pasta while Bucky places the dirty pans in the sink, both working around each other like a fine tuned machine.

Before you can do it yourself, Bucky is picking up the bowls and laying them on the place mats, winking at you as he does so. He pulls your chair out for you, nodding for you to join him.

“For you, Madame.” He jokes, allowing you to sit down while tucking you in.

You watch him round the table and take his own seat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Bucky grins at you. The orange glow of sunset shines through your windows, catching your features with grace. Your eyes shine beneath the light and Bucky can’t help but find you angelic.

“You’re beautiful, doll. I don’t know if I said that earlier but, god, you look stunning tonight.”

Dropping your head, you play with the hem of your dress shyly. Your hair falls into your face, forcing you to push it behind your ears, though Bucky wishes he was close enough to do it himself.

With rose tinted cheeks, you look up at Bucky through your lashes. “You say that to all your neighbours, Barnes?” You raise a brow with your teasing voice.

Bucky throws his head back and laughs heartily, a sound you’ve come to adore.

“Only the ones who cook for me.” He winks.

“Doesn’t Ms Scott bring you pies every couple weeks?”

“And I tell her she looks ravishing every time.”

You giggle and tell Bucky to dig in, though you could happily sit and talk all night. While you both stop every now and then for a forkful of food, conversation bounces between you as it always does.

Tonight isn’t much different to a typical evening with the firefighter next door; usually you share some snacks and beers, cozying up on the couch as you watch tv. It’s become ritual for you to send Bucky a video of you playing the piano each evening, his phone playing the video on loop as he sleeps. It’s strange, but the music creeps into his dreams and keeps them peaceful, keeps him away from that burning building.

It’s been a few weeks since the night he was sent home early. Both you and Bucky felt a shift that night; waking up in his arms left you craving more, though you’ve yet to tell him as much. You left him sleeping peacefully that morning when you left for work with only a couple hours of sleep under your belt.

Bucky hated waking up to find the other side of his bed empty, no longer feeling your heat. The note you left him eased the disappointment slightly, your neat handwriting promising to come back in your breaks. Neither of you have addressed how right it felt to sleep beside each other that night, despite spending all of your free time together with unspoken words hanging over you.

Instead, you dance around each other like two ghosts doomed to never touch. The bond between you is stronger than any you’ve ever had, the magnetic lure undeniable for you both.

Your glasses have been emptied and refilled twice now - dinner long since been finished - and you’re starting to feel the buzz; those butterflies in your stomach have turned into a swarm of confidence, your brain taking a backseat from its usual overthinking.

“You expect me to believe that you broke down the door before Sam could? The same guy who beat you at your physical a few weeks back?” You tease the brunette, a challenging brow raised at his rather unimpressed face.

“What are you trying to say there, doll?”

Bucky’s jaw clenches when you tilt your head slightly, eyes shining with amusement beneath the exposed hanging light bulbs.

“Nothing to worry your cute little head about.” You watch Bucky relax into his chair slightly as you reach for your glass with a smirk. “Just that I doubt Sam has any difficulty kicking a door down, not with the way he’s built.”

The scoff to end all scoffs ripples from your neighbours throat; his bright blue orbs glare into you and his features twist into a scowl. Oh if looks could kill…

Bucky’s tone is flat, “Didn’t know you were such an admirer of Wilson’s build, Y/n.”

The lack of a pet name sends your confidence wavering, but not enough to keep you from having a little fun.

“Well, you know,” You bring the glass to your lips, “he’s hardly difficult to miss.”

Watching the deep ruby liquid pass over your lips, Bucky fights to hide the fury that’s flooding his veins, forced to look away from your smug grin.

He knows, he knows, that you’re lying through your teeth, trying to get a rise out of his usually impenetrable facade, and yet he can’t help but feel jealous.

Bucky’s painfully aware that he has no right to feel so possessive, not when he lays no claim to you. But the twist of his stomach is proof that he doesn’t much care.

“Maybe I should just give you his number and you can cook him a meal next time.” Bucky grumbles.

“Oh, that’s alright, I already have his number.”

You’ve never seen Bucky’s head snap up as quickly as it just did, his gaze pinning you to your spot.

“You what?”

Gently, you place your glass back on the table. “Yeah, Steve gave him my number last week so he could get in touch.”

The fire in those blue eyes burns brighter with each word, his body so still that his chest is barely moving when he breathes. In fact, you’re not even sure if he is breathing. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing.

“Is that right?” Bucky’s gruff voice is laced with possessiveness, the low tone travelling straight to your panties till you swear you feel yourself throb. You wonder briefly if you have a jealousy kink and the sweet arousal dripping from your cunt only confirms your suspicions.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, “In fact, i’m going out for coffee with him next week.”

“Huh.”

Bucky’s chair screeches against the hardwood floor as he pushes himself back. You follow his movements with amused eyes when he stands up and grabs your plates before storming to the kitchen. You twist in your chair, watching him place the dishes in the sink and flick on the tap.

“James, what are you doing?” You ask.

“What does it look like i’m doing?” Oh he’s grumpy, grumpy.

Bucky’s shoulders are tense beneath his tight henley, his sleeves now rolled up as he starts scrubbing at the plates. It’s quiet while he concentrates on his work, only accompanied by the music still flowing from your speaker.

From the corner of his eye, the firefighter sees you rise from your chair, ears honed in on the sound of your feet pattering towards him.

It’s now hard for Bucky to focus on anything but your breath on his neck, goosebumps littered across his skin like a rash. You stand right behind him, tracing your fingers up from the small of his back; Bucky’s muscles tense momentarily before melting at your touch, just like always.

“Ask me why i’m seeing Sam next week.” You order, hands still roaming the taut fabric on Bucky’s back. The command makes him pause and clench his eyes shut. Why are you making him talk about this when it’s tearing him apart?

The brunette turns in your hold but you don’t release him, instead settling your hands on his waist.

“Why are you seeing him, doll?” Bucky sounds despondent, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks down at you.

“He asked me to teach his nephews to play the piano, Buck. I’m meeting him and the boys on Wednesday, Sarah too.”

A shocked ‘What’ tumbles from his lips as the information sinks in, his frown slowly falling away as he processes your words.

“Yeah…” You grin, though it’s more like a smirk, content with yourself proving he was jealous.

In a desperate attempt to save his ego, Bucky rolls his eyes playfully. “I knew you weren’t really attracted to that dumbass.”

You scoff and pat his chest lightly. “Sure you did, Barnes. Now scoot, you wash ‘em, i’ll dry ‘em.”

With his hands on his hips, he stays still as you nudge your way to his side, stretching to the window sill where your dish towels lay. Bucky’s never been in this position before, it’s always him who’s teasing you; this is new territory for him and it irks him that you riled him up so easily.

Once he shakes his head clear, the firefighter returns to face the sink and starts washing the dishes again. You wait patiently while he works, humming along to whichever song is playing.

“You like the old stuff, huh doll?” Bucky grins warmly at the slight sway of your hips, your radiance beaming like a lantern.

You giggle sheepishly and bite your lip, unknowingly sending Bucky spiralling. “I thought it was fitting for tonight, really leaning into the whole ‘housewife’ role.”

He raises a brow, “Does that make me your doting husband then, sweets?”

Realising what you said, your cheeks heat up instantly and your eyes widen. You attempt to backtrack but your words stumble over one another as though you’re a little school girl.

Bucky, however, is basking in the familiarity of control; your rosy cheeks never fail to bring a smile to his face, and boy is he beaming right now.

“I meant- It’s- You know what I meant, James.” You shoot daggers at him, though the idea of being married to your neighbour sends your heart into overdrive.

That swoon-worthy laugh greets your ears with haste, Bucky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his chest reverberates with its force. It’s impossible to bite back the grin that’s fighting its way onto your lips.

Small tendrils of chestnut hair tumble from behind his ears, begging to be pushed back, but the buzz from the wine has dulled and you can’t find the confidence to do it, no matter how much Bucky’s eyes are pleading you to.

“You know, it’s sweet of you to teach the boys how to play.” He looks at you in adoration, the image of you spending time with Sam’s nephews triggering a warmth to spread in his chest.

A breathy laugh escapes you as your gaze falls to the kitchen counter. You blush at the compliment and slowly start drying the dishes again.

“Do you spend much time with them?” You ask with a brief glance his way.

Bucky shrugs, “Yeah, Sarah is always throwing barbecues for the squad. They’re good kids, and I bet they’ll love you!”

“Oh God, I hope so. I’ve never taught before and i’m scared they’ll hate me and i’ll destroy their dreams and-” You ramble away without noticing the frown tugging at your neighbours brows.

“Teach me.”

Huh?

“What?” You freeze.

“You said you’ve never taught before,” Bucky steps closer to you, his cologne swarming around you like a warm hug, “so practise on me. Teach me something.”

You almost laugh at his words, mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that he’s joking. But Bucky doesn’t move, his blue eyes study your own, body so still that you fail to conjure a laugh. He’s not joking.

Hesitation is written across your features, drawing a single shake of Bucky’s head. “Come on, sweets. Please? For me?” He pleads.

“Okay.”

It’s scary how quickly you succumb to Bucky’s wishes; you fear you’d do awful things if only he asked and you’d even do it with a smile. You’re so doomed.

With a triumphant grin, Bucky plucks the dish cloth and plate from your grasp and carefully places them on the sink’s edge, before taking your hand in his and guiding you to your piano.

Nerves prickling beneath your skin, you trail behind him and silently revel in his touch. It’s hard to not stare at his perfect body as you stumble around furniture, the sharp muscles of his shoulders rippling as he tugs you with him. Flicking off the speaker on the way, you fall onto the small piano stool beside Bucky, and with such little room, your left thigh is pressed up against his. The solid curve of his muscles prod into your flesh and yet despite the fluttering it causes in your stomach, you’re far more focused on his hands.

From the bulge of his toned biceps to the trail of prominent veins in his forearms, your eyes drag down Bucky’s arms till you pause at the sight of his large hands. They lay spread across the span of his thighs, his right pinky finger mere atoms away from your exposed skin where your dress has ridden up. You find yourself craving the sparks that alight with his touch, so you adjust your position to make sure your leg brushes against his hand.

It certainly hasn’t gone amiss to the firefighter that you’ve taken a liking to his hands. Sure, he’s caught you staring at them before, but the hunger in your gaze right now is greater than ever.

The corner of Bucky’s lip turns up into a smirk as he reaches for your hands once more, lifting them to rest on the ivory keys of your piano.

“Wanna hear you play me something before you give me a lesson.” He admits, his words more of a demand than a question.

When you fail to respond, still caught up in scanning the crevices of his calloused hands, Bucky nudges your shoulder.

You shake your head with a dazed frown, “Huh?”

A playful chuckle falls from his pink lips, “I said play me something, sweets, before you start teachin’ me.”

You giggle sheepishly, sighing an ‘Oh’ before you gather your thoughts. Bucky returns his hands to his lap - a movement you struggle to ignore - giving you free rein of the instrument.

Running through some songs you could teach him, you settle for one of your favourites, or more accurately, one of Bucky’s favourites. The cool surface of the keys is harsh beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the Bucky-induced-heat flushing through your veins, hands stretching into place as you prepare the opening chords.

Rhythmic tones swarm around the two of you as you begin playing, masterfully dancing across the keys like it’s a second language. Your graceful motions always bring Bucky to a halt as you entrap him in your art.

He recognises the song straight away, lips turning up at the sweet melody. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he wanted to hear, you just knew. Bucky’s head feels light at the sight before him. A knowing grin has settled on your soft lips, your body ever so lightly swaying to the music, clearly getting lost the sounds.

It’s impossible not to feel the adoring stare of your neighbour, no matter how hard you try to ignore it. Warmth is pooling in the depths of your heart where it feels like you’re bleeding out, your love for Bucky forcing out the blood till the only thing circulating through your veins is him. No longer able to cope with the feelings swarming within you, your fingers abruptly stop mid song before you turn to look up at the firefighter.

“Okay, your go.” You state, but when Bucky raises a bemused brow your way, you continue to instruct him. “Come on. You’re gonna do the left hand, I’ll do the right.”

“Yes Ma’am!” Bucky chimes with a mock salute, earning him a glare.

It takes a few tries to move his fingers into the correct positions, both because he’s apparently wholeheartedly incapable of doing what you say but also because you may or may not zone out every time the veins of his hands stick out as he moves. But it’s still entirely his fault though. Entirely. ‘Maybe like 98% his fault. That’s seems fair.’ You think.

“There you go!” You cheer when the firefighter successfully plays the right notes in tandem.

“Would you look at that, not so useless after all.” Bucky winks at you and you blush lightly.

Glancing at him hopefully, you ask him to play the first chord you taught him.

“Oh, umm-“ He stutters, fingers flailing about and pressing random keys in search of the right pattern.

“Here, let me…” You chuckle sweetly at how utterly lost he looks and move to help him.

Leaning forward, you drag Bucky’s fingers over the ridges of ivorite, slowly placing them on the correct keys. You feel his lust-filled eyes trained on your face while you work, though it’s getting harder and harder to focus under his stare.

A frown tugs at your brows when your mind goes blank as to where Bucky needs to put his left hand, his still-wandering gaze burning into you and spreading to your cunt faster than you care to admit.

Of course, Bucky notices your breath quickening, chest stumbling up and down with shaky pants. His proximity is intoxicating and the will to fight it is slowly slipping past you, fingers itching to trace up Bucky’s thick arms to his neck so you can finally pull his lips to yours.

Bucky reads every inch of your skin like he’s studying for an exam. From the clench of your jaw to your eyes fluttering shut, he knows that he’s winning this tussle for control.

“Bucky…” You breathe, the wavering sigh rolling from your tongue like a stray secret.

“Yes, doll?” Bucky smirks with glinting eyes and you bite back a whimper.

Opening your eyes, you keep them trained on where yours rest on his. “I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.”

Bucky knows exactly what you mean but he can’t help but toy with you. “Like what?” He cocks his head with faux innocence that fools no one.

You turn to look up at the firefighter, eyes meeting his half lidded ones, the blue of his eyes barely visible behind his lust-blown pupils but the blue you can see is so impossible dark that you wonder if they were ever light in the first place.

Taking a breath, you wet your lips so briefly that Bucky nearly misses it. Nearly. “Like you want to kiss me.” You say, barely above a whisper.

“Oh,” Bucky sighs, leaning in closer, “I want to do much more than that.”

Your body is alight with need. Craving his touch, a breach of the barrier between you, you practically whine your reply. “Then why are you just staring?”

“Well, I wanna remember you like this; sweet, angelic, so perfect in your little sundress.“

With the back of his hand, Bucky nudges the hem of your dress higher till his whole hand is spread against your thigh. You quash the aching desire to glance at where your bodies meet and lock your eyes on Bucky’s, whose lips are turned into a knowing smirk.

“Gotta savour it while I can.” He says as he pushes his palm further to your inner thigh, his pinky finger mere inches from your heat.

“Why?” You ask, heart racing.

It dawns on you that you may actually pass out when the firefighter leans in close to you, nose pushing your hair aside to expose the soft skin of your neck which now sits defenceless to his advances. The heat of his breath is electrifying, lips nearing your pulse point eagerly.

Bucky’s lips ghost over your skin as he explains, “Cause once I’ve had my way with you, you’re gonna be a hot fucking mess, sweets.”

A breathy moan tumbles from the depths of you chest at the crude insinuations of his words; your eyes flutter shut, an unintentional reaction that you’re grateful for as it hides the way your pupils roll to the back of your head.

Through the dark span of your eyelids, you picture exactly how Bucky will make you a hot fucking mess. Spread legs with his tongue delving through your folds, back arched as he pounds into your pussy with vigour, his hands guiding your hips back to meet his as he fucks you from behind. The images bear too much for you yet you can’t stop picturing the salacious scenes, not when your neighbour is pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“James…” You sigh, voice carrying the weight of a thousand pleas.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

Nodding your head desperately, you whine, unable to form any words beneath his sinful tongue.

“Words, doll.” Bucky says, lips hovering over your ear. He’s struggling to hold back but can’t let himself touch you the way he wants to until he hears you spell it out for him.

Turning your head slowly, you peer at Bucky with half-lidded eyes and a slack-jaw. “I want you, James. Please.”

That’s all it takes to disintegrate the final remnants of the firefighter’s self-control before his full lips meet your own with a hunger that’s been brewing for months.

Bucky’s lips glide across yours, slotting between your own so easily it’s got you believing this is not your first kiss. It’s soft and sweet but so goddamn sensual that you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the now open gap giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue inside.

You bring your hands up Bucky’s body and rest them on his neck, fingers tentatively feeding through the hair at the nape of his neck while you jostle for control of the kiss.

Forced to pull back for breath, you take a peek only to find those strikingly blue eyes already on yours.

“Fuck, doll,” Bucky whispers, “you don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this.”

“Probably not as long as I have.” You scoff.

“Then let me make up for lost time.”

“Wait, what do y-“

Within moments, Bucky is lifting your legs over the bench and is knelt between them, his large hands teasing the hem of your dress as he keeps your thighs spread apart.

Your mouth is agape with surprise while you grab onto the piano behind you for stability, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins. And as if he can read your anxious thoughts, Bucky looks up at you with the most sincere expression across his soft features.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, despite the deep desire shining in his eyes. He wants you more than anything, but he needs to know you want him too.

It’s an easy answer and you’re shaking your head faster than you care to admit, but the memory of Bucky’s prior words flash through your mind and you still just as quick.

“No.”

Watching intently as he runs a hand from your ankle up to your knee, the firefighter rolls his bottom lip between his teeth when your breath hitches.

“Then promise me you’ll tell me if that changes?” Bucky asks.

You reach down and run your fingers through his chestnut locks, tucking the few loose strands behind his ear.

“I promise.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweets.”

A hearty laugh reverberates through you, but you’re quickly silenced by Bucky’s lips on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He kisses his way up to your heat, slowly pushing your dress higher and higher till the only thing between you and his mouth is the crimson lace panties covering your mound.

A sound you can only describe as a growl ripples through the room and you glance down at your neighbour to find him practically drooling at the sight of you. But then his eyes are on yours, his hungry, half-lidded eyes, and he’s tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Your breathing becomes laboured at his touch, your body, your mind, all of you at his mercy.

“Bucky, please…”

“Ah ah ah-“ The firefighter tuts, “-since when do you call me Bucky?”

You frown, back arching slightly in search of some friction on your core, too aroused to process his words properly.

“Look at me, Y/n.”

The stern nature of his tone lures your eyes to his once more. “What?” You ask, confused.

“I haven’t spent months goin’ crazy listening to you use my name only to have you call me Bucky when I’m finally between your legs.”

The throb of your pussy spurs you on and you tilt your head teasingly. “Touch me, James.” You say, and he obeys.

Bucky glides his hands up to your hips and drags your panties lower and lower, his lips chasing the lace till there’s no where left to kiss but your slick folds.

He hovers over your heat with bated breath before forcing himself to close his eyes and ask if you’re still okay with this.

“More than okay, James.” You answer truthfully.

“Good, cause I’m fucking starvin’.”

You feel his mouth on your pussy before you’ve even processed his words, tongue delving between your folds like he really is starving and you didn’t just feed him the best dinner he’s had in years. Though something tells him that title is about to be beaten the second you cum all over his face.

Your mouth curves into an ‘o’, the most pornographic of moans escaping you at the sinful sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your cunt. Drowning in increasingly intense waves of pleasure, your senses are dialled up to the max; with every flick of his tongue and suck on your clit, you find yourself falling deeper in your arousal. It becomes impossible to listen to anything Bucky’s telling you.

“Y’taste so sweet, doll.”

“Doing so good for me, aren’t ya? My good girl.”

“Let me hear you, doll, need to hear how good you feel.”

Whether it’s praises or orders, there’s no chance in hell of you understanding a word that falls from his lips, though Bucky doesn’t mind. The clench of your soft thighs around his head tells him all he needs to know - that even if your heads not fulling comprehending him, your body is. And the sheer amount of slick glistening across your cunt is enough for him to know that you’re ready for more.

The sensation of Bucky’s finger tracing along your pussy lips sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hips lifting off the stool.

“James- oh fuck-“

Words die on your tongue when Bucky eases a finger inside you. White hot pleasure builds at your core, burning the last remnants of your self control, its embers coaxing a near-scream out of you.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweets. That’s- shit you’re so tight, pussy’s squeezing me and it’s just one finger.”

You mewl and squirm beneath him.

“How you gonna handle two of ‘em, doll?”

Bucky’s mesmerised at the sight of his finger gliding in and out of you, drenched in your sweet juices, too beautiful of a sight for him to give up by eating you out. But when you groan at the suggestion of two fingers, he drags his gaze upwards and is greeted with a view that’s evening better.

You, draped against the piano, head tilted back and brows drawn together while uneven sighs tumble from your swollen lips. God, you look heavenly, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud, but it makes little difference seeing as you’re rather preoccupied with the thought of Bucky fucking another finger inside you.

“James?” You call, reaching down to cover your left hand around the one at your sex, the other tugging on his hair.

“Yeah? Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He panics, thinking you’ve grabbed his hand to stop him.

Instead, you look him in the eye and say “Are you gunna fuck another finger inside of me or what?”

An awe-inspired grin spreads across Bucky’s face at your question. He keeps his blue orbs on yours while he presses a kiss to your clit and pushes himself higher till he’s inches from your face.

He rests a hand against the piano, caging you in and says, “Anything for my girl.” before a second digit joins his first.

The stretch knocks the wind out of your chest but Bucky hardly gives you any time to adjust, his fingers pumping in and out of you even faster than before. His palm slaps against your bundle of nerves with every thrust, the force riding to your chest where your tits bounce in rhythm.

“So damn beautiful…” The firefighter says.

You look up at him through your lashes and pull his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. With clashing teeth, the wet slapping sounds only feeds into the moment and Bucky’s suddenly very aware of the tightness in his jeans.

With each passing second, the cord in your stomach is getting so close to snapping that your mouth isn’t even moving against Bucky’s anymore.

“Fuck, James, I’m- I-“

“Shh, I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You gonna cum all over my fingers, doll? Gonna let me see you fall apart?”

You nod feverishly.

“Good girl, now let go for me.”

That’s all it takes for the damn to break loose and the fiercest orgasm of your life to rack through your body. It reaches every part of you, all the cracks and crevices you never thought could be touched, yet here you are, feeling every inch of yourself set on fire.

“That’s it, doll, that’s it.” Bucky comforts you while you lay victim to the aftershocks of his work, slowing the thrust of his fingers till your breathing evens and he moves to gently circling your sensitive clit.

“Holy shit…” You sigh, a satisfied and totally fucked-out grin playing across your lips.

Noticing how your hazy your eyes still are, Bucky smiles to himself while pressing loving kisses on your forehead.

“You did real good for me, sweetheart.” He listens to you hum beneath him as he moves to kiss your temple. “Y’look so pretty when you cum, you know that? Even prettier than I imagined.”

You twist in your seat to face your neighbour. “You’ve imagined this too?”

“Every night, doll.”

“Huh…”

Though Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on yours, it’s obvious that his mind has slipped away; he’s now clouded by memories of his x-rated dreams, ones that have ended with him pumping his embarrassingly hard length into his fist one too many times, and his cock twitches in his ever-tightening pants. You notice the movement at his crotch and, emboldened by his confession and the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you decide to take back some control.

“What have you pictured doing to me, James?” Your tone is so sweet, so innocent, that it takes a moment for your words to register in his brain. But when it does, boy, does a fresh wave of blood rush to his cock.

“You sure you wanna know? Cuz it ain’t all sweet and innocent.” He warns.

You say nothing and let your actions do all the talking; you slide a hand down to meet his left, the one still nestled between your sticky thighs, and tug it away from your cunt. With your eyes locked on his, you raise Bucky’s cum coated fingers to your mouth, slowly wrapping your lips around them and sucking your sweetness away. Making sure to give the firefighter a show, you swirl your tongue around his fingers before taking them as deep as you can, a knowing look in your eyes when you notice Bucky clenching his jaw.

After releasing his fingers from your swollen red lips, you press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Tell me.”

What you can only describe as a growl rises from the back of Bucky’s throat and before you know it, you’re being carried to your bedroom, legs bound tightly around his waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck.

He sits down on the edge of the bed; hands resting on your hips and edging lower to your ass, his fingers grip the supple flesh to keep you in place.

His force on your hips is pushing you down on his ample bulge, sparking a flash of pleasure straight up your spine that escapes you with a moan. Bucky chuckles softly with a sinful grin as you tilt your head back at the feeling.

“You wanna know what I’ve imagined us doing, doll?” The firefighter grabs your chin to bring your attention back to him. He runs the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging on it and letting it bounce back into place.

“I’ve pictured us just like this.” He drops his hand to your neck, tracing the curve of your collar bone till it meets the strap of your sundress. “You, naked and beautiful as ever, riding my cock like I know you can.”

You gasp lightly when he tugs your strap till it’s tumbling off your shoulder.

“And you’re telling me just how full you are, how stretched your little pussy is around me, choking my cock like a damn vice.”

Bucky’s filthy words send your hips into motion without warning; you grind your bare cunt over his crotch, the tent in his pants settling between your slick folds till his shaft is enveloped with your warmth.

“Does that sound good, doll? To have my cock buried inside you when you bounce on it? Fuck, I bet your cunt is dripping for me again,”

“It never stopped, James.” You whimper, your sensitive clit sending jolts up your frame as Bucky guides your hips over his.

“That’s right, you’re never gonna use anything else to cum ever again. You got me now, doll. I’m all you need. Me, my cock, I’m gonna ruin everyone else for you.”

You don’t even notice that Bucky’s hands are on the zip at your back, slowly pulling it down till the fabric are your chest goes slack, and with the straps already draped over your shoulders, the flowing material cascades around you, tumbling to your hips and leaving you defenseless to Bucky’s insatiable blue eyes.

“Fuck me, sweets, you’re- god- you’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses your collarbone. “So,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “perfect.”

Your eyes flutter shut, lost in the feeling of his touch, and Bucky smirks when he sees you. He teases a hand up your soft skin till it sits just beneath your tit, daring to reach up and play with you in the ways he’s always dreamt of.

“Is this okay?” He asks, earning an even more passionate grind of your hips as you push your chest closer to his open mouth.

He chuckles, “Needy, aren’t ya, sweets?”

You whine.

“Hmm, lucky for you, this is exactly what I imagined doing to you, what I’ve dreamt of for months…”

His lips wrap around your hardened nipple with haste, the warmth of his mouth a welcome sensation. He sucks at the sensitive nub, this tongue reaching out to soothe you afterwards. You throw your head back and moan loudly.

The sound of bucky loudly licking and sucking on your tits is driving you crazy, to the point where your hips are stuttering over his, practically drowning in the feeling till you have no control over your movements.

“God, I love your tits. Wanna act out every dream I’ve ever had of you. Fucking your tits, your throat, your cunt, anywhere you’ll let me, doll, please. I’ve needed you for so long.”

You blush at the word love, surpressing the hope that is stirring at the possibility that your tits aren’t the only thing he loves. Has he really wanted this as long as me? You wonder, picturing everything he just revealed he’s been wanting.

“M’So fuckin’ hard for you sweetheart, I know you can feel me. Dick’s throbbing, doll, it’s s’hard it hurts.”

You pull at his hair so he’s looking up at you again and capture his lips in yours.

“I wanna see you, Bucky…”

He groans and reaches for the hem of his shirt which he waists no time in tearing off. Your chest rises and falls heavier than before, eyes raking his physique just like you had that night he was leaving the shower at his place.

You trail a finger down his abs till it brushes the button of his jeans teasingly.

“All of you, James.” You look pointedly at his crotch. “May I?” You ask and when he nods, you climb off his lap and sink between his legs on the floor, you dress tumbling to the ground immediately.

Bucky’s abs tense as you work to undo the button, your hands tiny in comparison to his body. Next, you work the zipper up and over the bulge of his cock, the teeth desperate to come apart after being so constricted for so long. The two sides of denim snap away from the tent of his boxers, perfectly presenting where the firefighter so badly needs your touch.

He helps you kick off his jeans till the only thing between you is his boxers. You trace a finger up and down his shaft through the cotton, enjoying the sticky patch of pre cum leaking through the top.

“Have you ever imagined me sucking your cock, James?” You ask with half lidded eyes before kissing his covered shaft. “Cause I have.”

Bucky whimpers - whimpers - at your words, his hips snapping up to your face uncontrollably.

You begin to drag down his boxers, trailing kisses down down down, your lips greeting his tip when his cock flicks up against them before your eyes even get chance to glance at him.

Your eyes flutter shut at the salty taste on your lips, revelling in the breathy moans from your neighbour.

“Fuck- pl-please honey, I need your- argh- mouth around me!”

You make eye contact with him from your place on the floor and ask if he’s sure.

“More than anything.”

And with that, you take his thick length into your mouth, lips sealing around his angry pink cock head briefly when your trace your tongue over his slit, before gliding lower down his cock.

You take as much of him as you can, but you need time to warm up having never taken a cock as large as his before.

“You’re so big, baby.” You say as you pull off his shaft with a pop, “Biggest I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

A frustrated groan arises from the firefighter and you feel his hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you to his dick once more.

“Suck my cock, doll, just like we’ve both imagined, nice and deep, please.”

You take the base of his cock in your hands and guide his tip back to your lips.

“Atta girl,” Bucky encourages as you take him deeper and deeper.

He feels you relaxing your throat to take more of him and his balls clench at the feeling.

“Argh fuck, fuck, fuck. Good girl, oh my god, yes!”

His praises and curses cheer you on and you manage as much of him as you can, only an inch or so remaining that’s simply too thick to fit in your mouth. Lord knows how he’ll fit in your pussy, but you’re sure he’ll figure it out.

You bob your head on his length over and over till you’re in desperate need of air. You let your hands work your spit and his precum up and down his hard cock while you catch your breath and watch his beautiful face contort into one of extreme pleasure.

Your chest fills with pride at Bucky’s facial expressions; making him feel good is somehow more rewarding than anything you’ve done in your life and you find yourself content at the thought of spending the rest of your days pleasing him.

Bucky is oblivious to the gratified smile toying your lips and wholly unprepared for your next movement.

“Oh god- oh fuck, doll-” He groans, his breathing staggered and eyes clenched shut when you take his balls in your mouth, the skin sloppily wet from your work on his cock, and now enjoying the warmth of your mouth.

“Oh honey, do that again, felt so go- argh!” He’s interrupted by you tending to his sack once more, your tongue swirling around them and lightly sucking.

You moan around his pretty, swollen balls, the vibrations drawing a sigh of pleasure from your neighbour. The trimmed hair at the base of Bucky’s member is tickling your nose while you fight to taste every part of him.

With a final sharp suck, you release his balls with a small plop, plant a wet kiss on each and flatten you tongue to lick a bold stripe up his length. The tip of your muscle presses into the vein on the underside of his dick and Bucky thrusts upward, his hips bucking as he desperately searches for more.

As you ready yourself to glide his cock down your throat once more, you feel Bucky’s hand on your cheek, pulling you off him.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” You ask with a concerned frown, nervous that you’ve done something wrong to have Bucky stopping you. You wrap your hand around his forearm, the one outstretched to hold your hair, while the other remains enclosed around his cock.

“Nothin’ bad, sweets, it’s just that- fuck-“

You absentmindedly stroke your thumb over his girth, a motion you intend to be comforting but in reality, it just makes him throb even harder in your hands.

“-I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep using your pretty mouth like that.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”

He laughs lightly and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Cause as hot as you’d look swallowing my load, I’d much rather cum inside that sweet pussy for our first time.”

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before pecking a doting kiss to his forearm and letting Bucky pull you to your feet. His eyes follow yours till he’s looking up at you from his seated position, his hands falling to your hips with an awestruck face.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” His voice is barely above a whisper. You blush crimson.

“Get on the bed, doll.” He orders. “Lay on your back.”

You do as he says and once you’ve settled, he crawls on top of you. It’s quiet for a moment as Bucky stares lovingly down at you, burning the image into his memory to remind him he has everything he needs.

“I should have found the guts to do this months ago…�� You murmur, pushing the fallen tendrils of chestnut hair behind his ear. He looks so goddamn perfect; the golden glow filtering through your window catching every feature you’ve spent so long dreaming about, and now he’s here, really here, and you can’t help but stroke his cheek with revere.

“We have now, doll. That’s enough for me.” Bucky whispers. “Are you comfortable?”

You nod, truthfully, both in terms of your position but also for what’s coming. But then his elbows bend out and he’s lowering himself onto you.

“How about now?”

There’s a gleam in his eye and a playful smirk on his lips as he watches your chest heave, your body taking more of his weight now.

“No!” You giggle.

“No? Is this better?” Bucky teases, briefly laying his whole weight over you until you paw at his shoulders to push him off.

“James! You’re squishing me!”

The melody of your carefree laughter has Bucky melting and he pushes himself up onto his hands once more. His lip is tucked between his teeth, enjoying the view as he becomes increasingly aware of his cock now just one slip away from your pussy lips.

Quickly coming to your own awareness of Bucky’s rock hard length pressing into you, you sober up.

“Darling?” You tug on his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.

Bucky’s brows pinch closer slightly.

“I need you inside me.”

His soft lips are crashing against yours within moments, his hand fighting between the nonexistent space between your bare bodies to grasp his cock and guide his tip to your bundle of nerves.

The sudden taste of how good Bucky can make you feel forces a sharp breath from you. It’s so much yet not enough, all at the same time.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? Let me take care of you how you deserve.”

After a meek nod with your hands finding refuge in Bucky’s soft locks, he trails his cock head down your pink folds till it catches on the dip of your entrance.

Bucky tempts a whimper from you as he slides inside of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his larger than average member.

“Fuck, doll, you’re so tight for me.” The firefighter moans, resisting the urge to snap his hips and bottom out completely.

You’ve yet to make a sound, the sting in your pussy not yet dissipating, and when you glance down at where your bodies meet, you realise you’re barely taking half of him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky’s reassuring voice is ghosting over your ear, “you’re taking me so well, sweets. You need me to go slower?”

You clench your eyes shut briefly, “No, keep going, you’re just so…”

“So what?”

Bucky watches a deep red creep up your neck before returning his gaze to your eyes, that now dance across the room avoiding him.

A gentle grasp on your chin draws you to face the breathtaking man above you and you clench around his dick.

“What happened to the little minx who was practically beggin’ me to fuck her, huh? Don’t get all shy on me now, dollface. I’m so what?”

His words have you spilling yours without second thought. “You’re so fucking thick, James, cock’s splittin’ me in half.”

He groans and snaps his hips fully into yours, making you scream out, “Jamie!!!”

His scalp burns when you pull on his hair harder than before, your moans filling the room like a broken record. Bucky should be focused on the furrow of your brow, your laboured breaths, the way your cunt is choking him, anything about how perfect this feels, but all he can focus on is how with one thrust, you called him ‘Jamie’. And you didn’t just say it, you screamed it.

“Shit, honey, say it again.”

“Ja-Jamie…” You whine and feel Bucky draw his hips back before pounding into you once more.

“Again.” Your neighbour growls.

“Oh my god, fuck- I”

“Again.”

It takes everything you have to open your eyes and look at him. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

“That’s my girl.”

Bucky drives his length into you till his tip is hitting your cervix, the pleasure wrapping around your throat and squeezing the air out of you. You fight to breathe as Bucky drills into you, over and over, softly grunting with every thrust.

“Never felt anything as good as your cunt before, doll. Wanna spend the rest of my life buried inside you.”

You pull his lips to yours and, back arching from the mattress, dive your tongue into his mouth with vigour. He lets you explore his mouth while fucking you deep and fast, the headboard of your bed slamming against the wall and probably driving your neighbour crazy. Oh wait, he is your neighbour, and it is driving him crazy, but in the best way imaginable.

“So goddamn tight, sweets, y’pussy was made for me,” He swallows your whimpers happily, “don’t you think? You feel how good i’m filling you up, honey? Sliding in an’ out so easy, you’re so fucking wet for my dick.”

“Harder, Jamie.”

Goddamn.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll do whatever you want.”

You lose yourself in his thrusts; the sting has long turned into the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something after the orgasm he lulled from you only a few minutes ago.

“Fuckin’ me s-so good, Jamie.”

“Ah- just like that, baby.”

“I’m getting close, James, need you to go faster.”

Your pleas send Bucky’s cock pulsing and he does exactly as you wish. He fucks you faster, fighting off the desperate urge to cum inside your sweet cunt.

“Jamie…” You sigh.

He grins up at you from his place at your tits, his tongue reaching out to tease your nipples. You push his head down till he takes your sensitive bud in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over it while he gropes its twin.

The tight coil in your stomach is twisting to its limit and you find yourself dangerously close to cumming around Bucky’s hard, thick length.

“I’m so- oh fuck- i’m so close, James.”

He lifts his head and eyes you with lust blown pupils.

“Are you gonna cum for me, doll? God, I can feel you clenching around me, you wanna cream all over my cock? Huh?” He smirks at your pornographic moans. “Bet I’ll look so good covered in your cum, sweets, maybe I’ll let you clean me up, put that mouth to good use.”

“I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum,” You chant several times breathlessly.

“Let go for me, sweet girl, make a mess o’my cock. Cum, doll.”

Your body shudders as your hips grind up into Bucky’s, your walls tightening before he feels you gush around him. Practically screaming in pleasure, you bite down on Bucky’s shoulder to quiet yourself, though the pain travels straight to his member, still fucking into you with force.

“Fuck, James, you’re so perfect, never came so hard in my life- shit-“

He’s groaning into your ear, his balls slamming against you and filling the room with salacious wet slaps.

“You’re so wet and- fuck- I can’t- I can’t hold back much longer.”

You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and lick up the side of his throat, tongue catching the salty beads of sweat in its path. Reaching his earlobe, you suck on it lightly and whisper into his ear.

“Want you to cum inside me, Jamie. Fill me up, please, I need your cum.”

“Argh, fuck!!” Your words send Bucky over the edge and his hips stutter while he finally lets go.

“Oh god, yes!” Bucky grunts. “Take my cum, doll, fuckin’ take it.”

Your tongue seeks his neck once more, pressing open mouthed kisses as his cock shoots streams of white seed into you, the spurts seemingly never ending.

“Fillin’ my cunt so much, Jamie- fuck- you feel so good!”

As his cock softens, his thrusts slow to a more bearable pace, both of you so sensitive from your orgasms. Catching your breath takes a minute or two, but in the meantime, you coax satisfied sighs from your firefighter by running your hands up and down his back; the light sheen of sweat greets your fingertips as you touch him tenderly.

With no words being shared, you focus solely on Bucky’s breathing, the rise and fall of his back beneath your hands and the weight of his body on yours. It should be uncomfortable, but you’ve never felt so at home in a place, let alone with a person, in your life.

“That was…” Bucky murmurs into your neck.

You finish his sentence, “Pretty damn good.” Laughter ripples through the muscles of his back.

“Yeah,” He agrees and pulls back slightly to look at you, “you feeling okay?”

“If by okay you mean ‘completely and utterly fucked out’ then yeah, I’m great.”

You grin cheekily before pushing his hair behind his ear yet again, an act you find yourself praying that you’ll get to do for the rest of your life.

“How are you feeling?” You ask sincerely.

Those blue orbs flick between your own, laced with an emotion you hope to be love. “Like I want to be with you like this forever.” Bucky admits. “That and completely and utterly fucked out.”

You laugh heartily, bringing a beaming smile to Bucky’s swollen red lips.

“Let me clean you up, doll.” He offers before pushing himself off you, much to your dismay. He disappears to your bathroom for a minute before returning with a damp cloth in hand.

“Can you spread your legs for me, sweets?”

He bites a chuckle at how quickly you obey him and gets to work, wiping away your shared cum from your pussy and goosebump-ridden thighs. The towel is warm and soft on your skin, lulling you to sleep, though you fight to keep your eyes on your neighbour.

“You’re so beautiful, James.” You say, reaching to place your hand on his that sits beside you hip, where he’s leaning his weight.

He smiles sheepishly and focuses on the job at hand. Once you’re clean, Bucky carries you to the bathroom so you can do your business, waiting patiently outside after putting his boxers back on and grabbing his henley for you to wear.

When you step out of the bathroom, Bucky’s holding his he let out in front of you. “You looked a bit cold so I thought you might want a shirt?”

You smile, “Your shirt?”

“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the movement, “You don’t have to, I just thou-“

He stops talking when you pull the henley from his grasp and tug it over your head. It swallows you whole and the sleeves tumble past your hands, but Bucky thinks it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him back to your room and back into bed, tugging the sheets over you both where you nestle into his chest.

“You’re staying, right?” You ask with the most puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

“Of course, doll.”

Smiling to yourself, you curl up against the firefighter. “Woulda cooked you a meal months ago if I knew that’s all it took for you to finally fuck me.”

a/n: filth. pure filth. so sorry that it took me a lifetime to post this - life got lifey and it took me ages to get this right. it’s my second time writing any sort of smut so i hope it was good for y’all. thanks for all the support, it means the world to me. love you guys, red ❤️

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