#Assignment Help Sunshine

[jakebogarts]

.

[mssorceressupreme]

Hate and Love | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: in the mission of transporting Harry safely to the Burrow, you and Fred get thrown off-track as his broom breaks, resulting in an overnight detour at a hotel.

Warnings/content: minors DNI 18+, halfblood!reader, One Bed Trope, enemies to lovers, boner!alert, oral!freceiving, p in v, grumpy x sunshine (if u squint), raw penetration (wrap it plz), cumming inside, orgasm denial, fluffy ending, fighting death eaters, dom!fred, sub!reader

Wordcount: 5.8k

———

You stood near the wall, arms crossed, in the house of number four Privet Drive, the place where it all began for one of your closest friends, Harry Potter. The group of you were gathered in the empty living room, discussing the highly dangerous plan of transporting Harry safely to the Burrow.

Beside you stood the twins, listening intently as Mad-Eye Moody instructed orders.

Seven of them had just taken polyjuice potion, resulting in seven 'Harry's', all in accordance with Moody's plan.

“Right then, we’ll be pairing off. Each ‘Potter’ will have a protector and to make it simpler for you, I'll choose the pairs.” His mismatched eyes scanned the group, assigning pairs, and an aggravating pit settled in your stomach once Moody called out your name, “Y/N, you're with Fred.”

Your head snapped toward Fred, who groaned audibly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He muttered, but George nudged him softly, urging him to be tolerable while they changed out of their regular clothes.

“Yeah yeah, happy to be paired up with you too.” you rolled your eyes, the sarcasm in your tone apparent.

Fred and you had never gotten along. Since your days at Hogwarts, the two of you had been like oil and water—always at odds. He thought you were too uptight, too rule-abiding, while you found him utterly insufferable, reckless, and far too smug for his own good.

But for Harry, you’d endure today. He'd done a great deal to help you throughout your years at Hogwarts, so it was only fair of you to return the favour.

“Head for the Burrows, we’ll rendezvous there!” Moody finished. The room stirred with movement as everyone prepared for what was to come.

Outside, the night air was cool as you mounted Fred’s broom behind him. The scent of his cologne, something warm and woodsy, hit your nose, and you hated that you thought it smelled decent, inhaling a bit more. You hesitated for a moment before wrapping your arms around his waist, well, 'Harry's' waist.

Fred stiffened slightly at your touch, “Don’t get too comfortable back there.”

“Oh, believe me, I won’t.”

Before you could snap back another remark, he kicked off into the sky, soaring above London, splitting up from the others.

Everything was eerily silent for a few moments. The flight seemed too smooth for your liking. You kept an alert eye, constantly scanning your surroundings.

You caught a shadow in the corner of your eye, and you whipped your head around, squinting your eyes at the figure in the dark.

"What the..." You muttered.

"Fred go faster...." You ordered, losing sight of the shadowy figure.

"Why don't you come fly the broom then." He retorted, clearly annoyed.

"Fred! I"m serious!" You yelled, gripping his waist tighter, as he exhaled before picking up the pace.

"In case you forgot, I need to be able to breathe to fly this thing properly." He grunted as you practically squeezed every breath out of him.

"Right, sorry," You loosened your grip ever so slightly, "...it's just, I swear I saw something."

You turned around again, catching a glimpse of a shadowy figure. The shadow was no longer a mystery figure but a person, or, three people rather.

Death Eaters.

"Oh shit! Fred! They're here!" You took your wand out and began fighting with them.

Spells shot through the night, streaks of green and blue illuminating the sky like a twisted fireworks display. The death eaters had appeared out of nowhere, zooming in, attacking viciously as they trailed behind you on their brooms.

“They’re following us!” you shouted over the wind, turning back around to gauge Fred.

“Oh, really? Thought we were just out for a lovely evening flight,” he shot back sarcastically, dodging a hex just in time.

You rolled your eyes but focused on firing spells behind you, hitting one death eater square in the chest and sending him spiralling downward.

"Stupefy!" You shouted, casting the second death eater off his broom. Two down, one to go.

Just as you felt a moment of victory, another spell whizzed past, striking the broom.

The wood splintered with a sickening crack. "Uhh, Fred?" You called out, glancing at the broom.

“Hold on—” Fred barely got the words out before the broom snapped completely, and the two of you plummeted toward the Thames River.

You hit the water hard, the impact knocking the wind out of you. You kicked frantically, breaking the surface and gasping for air. The coolness of the water had your body in shock, shivering as you forced yourself to stay afloat.

Fred emerged a second later, coughing.

Glancing above, you saw the third death eater laughing maliciously as he flew off, leaving you and Fred. He must've figured it wasn't the real Harry, given that you called him 'Fred'.

“Great! Look what you’ve done!” you accused, treading water furiously.

“What I’ve done?! That was you—you were supposed to be fighting them off!” he retorted, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. He had transformed back into his original self, the fiery redhead Fred you knew.

You groaned, swimming toward the embankment where a set of stone stairs led to dry land. Your fingers were frozen as you pulled yourself up, collapsing onto the pavement. Fred followed, shaking out his drenched hair like a dog.

“Brilliant. Just brilliant,” you muttered, clutching one-half of the broken broom while he had the other. “Now how are we supposed to get to the others?”

Fred sighed, pushing his hair back. “Let’s just go somewhere dry first.”

You nodded begrudgingly, too cold and exhausted to argue.

When you emerged from the river, it was given that pedestrians would stare at the two of you strangely. Swimming in the Thames River wasn't exactly the most normal thing to do, let alone at this hour.

Though, in this particular instance, more of them were starring at you, rather than Fred.

Fred cleared his throat, eyes darting down to your chest then back up before averting his eyes immediately.

You furrowed your brows, glancing down, only to remember that you were wearing a white shirt along with the worst possible undergarment to pair with it, a black bra.

You felt your cheeks heat up, as you covered your chest, "Let's just go..."

Fred shook his head, taking off the grey jacket he wore and putting it over you, "Here."

Though still wet, it offered the coverage you much needed and you were entirely grateful. "Thanks." You muttered softly, as you two began walking.

"Figured you wouldn't want to walk around flashing the whole of London."

The two of you walked in silence as you tried to figure out a way to get to the others. “We can apparate—” he started.

“Absolutely not. There are muggles everywhere,” you snapped, nodding to the late-night pedestrians strolling along the streets.

Fred scoffed, shooting you an eye-roll. “Alright, Professor McGonagall.”

You ignored him, scanning the area. A small, dingy-looking hotel caught your eye. Without another word, you trudged toward it, Fred trailing behind. The receptionist, a bored-looking woman in her mid 40s, barely glanced up as you approached the desk.

The hotel looked cheap enough for an overnight stay. All you needed to do was clear your mind and get a good night's rest before figuring things out in the morning; yes, that sounded ideal to you right this moment.

“Two rooms, please,” you said firmly.

She tapped at the keyboard, chewing on some gum as she did so. “We’re fully booked.”

Your heart sank. “What about one room? With two beds?”

"Sorry, we're full." She continued typing, then clicking on the mouse as she looked around the screen, "It's peak season honey, we're always maxed out."

"Please you've got to have at least one room, with two beds, anything?" You pleaded, desperate for whatever you could acquire.

"We'll take whatever we can get, you've got to have something." Fred added, backing you up as he stood closer to you.

She checked again, then looked at you, eyes lighting up. “Ah, it seems that we do have one left with two beds, but the heating is broken, that's why we didn't offer it to customers. Actually, I was supposed to call the maintenance guy, but he's my ex, you see, so it's a bit of a rough story. I always thought he loved me, you know, how could someone not, I mean look at me? I'm gorgeous. He was supposed to come by today but we—”

"We'll take it!" Fred interjected swiftly, clearly exhausted. "Thank you."

Relief flooded you as you he paid with muggle money. You were surprised he even had some on hand, but after all, he was a businessman.

"Interesting, all this muggle stuff eh?" Fred mused, as you both entered the lift, his eyes darting around as he observed his surroundings.

"I suppose so, yeah. I guess I was lucky enough to be born a half-blood, you get the best of both worlds." You shrugged, as though hotels and 'muggle elevators' were the most natural thing in the world.

"Alright then, you lead the way, Ms expert." He mocked, gesturing for you to lead the way once the doors opened.

You scoff softly, marching down the hallway before finding your room number. Fred reaches seconds after you, looping his arm around your body to swipe the keycard.

He placed an arm on the door to open it, letting you in first before closing it after he entered.

But the moment you entered the room, your jaw dropped.

One bed.

“What? She said there were two beds.” You blinked, looking around the room in confusion.

“She must’ve meant the couch,” Fred said, nodding toward the small, lumpy-looking couch a few inches beside the bed, by the window.

You swallowed, “Right, well, who's sleeping where?” Honestly, at this point, you didn't even mind taking the couch, as long as you could get some rest.

Fred's eyes darted from the bed to the couch, exhaling exasperatedly before finally looking at you, "I'll take the couch."

"I didn't know Fred Weasley had manners?" You gasped, faking your amusement.

He shot you a glare, grabbing a towel as he did so, "Could you be any more aggravating?"

You tried to think of a witty comeback, something, anything to get a reaction out of him. But alas, you were lost for words. He did have a point though.

Come to think about it, you realised that you might've only been behaving this way because you were not used to him being so much of a...gentleman. This was foreign to you.

"I'll have the first shower." He shifts past you, nudging your shoulder, which sends heat through your bodies temporarily.

“Be my guest.”

You hear the lock shut, and seconds later, the water starts running.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you took in your surroundings. This was no five-star hotel, but it was presentable and decent enough for an overnight stay. The walls are dark grey, with ambient lighting all around the room. Navy blue sheets grace the double bed, with a soft brown leather footer in contrast. There is a tea tray and a kettle, on top of the dark brown desk that sat in the corner of the room.

Minutes later, the door clicks and unlocks.

Fred steps out, a white towel hanging around his waist. His hair is wet, and his body glistening with water droplets. Your eyes couldn't help but drift down, his body was incredible defined, a stark contrast to your school days when he was merely a boy, now, he was a man.

Oh, he definitely works out. You noticed his arms, much larger and buffer than they used to be.

"All yours." He jerked his chin to the bathroom.

You gulped, brushing past him before hurriedly entering the bathroom and locking the door.

Wow, since when did Fred Weasley get so, attractive?

The hot water was a blessing, washing away the cold. You stood under the steamy shower for a couple of minutes, taking in as much warmth as you could.

With no new clothes to change into, you wrapped yourself in the plush hotel bathrobe, sighing in frustration. It appears there was only a kids sized one left, and you had no choice but to wear it. Whatever, it’ll do the job for tonight.

You hung your wet clothes on one of the bathroom racks, and you saw that Fred did the same, you placed your clothes beside his.

You were humming to yourself when you stepped out, relieved to be in some dry clothes, dancing a little as you strolled to the bed.

When he heard you walking, Fred glanced up, something flickering in his expression, though you're not quite sure what.

“That bathrobe is way too small for you." He remarks, laying with his legs out on the couch, two arms behind his head as he rests.

"What was I supposed to do, wear my wet clothes to sleep?" You respond as you hop into bed, tugging the covers and snuggling in.

"It could be an enlightening experience." He hummed, as he shut his eyes, adjusting himself on the couch.

"You try it then." You counter, scoffing at his idiocy.

The curtains are drawn, and the lights are dim. Silence fills the room as you both unwind for the evening. Before you shut the lights from the switch beside your bed, you call out, "I'm going to off the lights now, need anything before I turn them off?"

"Yeah actually..." He perks his head up, turning to face you.

"What?" You ask, listening keenly.

"For you to be quiet." A small smile played on his lips as he laid back down.

You rolled your eyes, before hitting the lights.

"Good night." He cooed.

You lay there, tossing and turning, but you couldn't seem to fall asleep for the life of you. It didn't help that the room was so cold, due to the heater being unfixed.

Minutes passed in silence before you turned your head slightly. Fred was stretched out on the tiny couch, his long legs dangling uncomfortably over the armrest.

It was evident that he was way too tall to fit on all that, he did not look the slightest bit comfortable.

“See something you like?” Fred smirked, feeling your stare though his eyes were shut.

“What? No! I was just—”

“Just what? Admiring this handsome face?”

"Honestly Fred, how conceited are you?" You sat up now, shooting daggers at him. As much as you hated to admit it, he was, in fact, handsome. Annoyingly so.

Truth be told, had he not been so irritating, you might've actually considered dating him.

You loved the Weasleys, Ginny was like a sister to you, Ron, your close friend, George, always on the lookout for you. He even took you down to Hogsmeade for a meal and bought you treats when you cried over one of the Slytherin boys rejecting you back in your fourth year.

But Fred, oh Fred, you could never see eye to eye with him. You only ever tolerated him because his family was so warm and welcoming.

A tiny part of you felt guilty that he was forced onto the couch, despite being the one that paid for the room.

You wanted to offer the place beside you to him, seeing that the bed was larger than anticipated once you were actually tucked in.

"Well you are staring, something you need?" He countered, his eyes are still shut, arms still behind his head.

"Well, I was thinking...." You hesitated, "well, you could sleep on the bed. It's actually more spacious than I thought."

His brows shot up, and he opened his eyes, turning to face you. “In the bed? With you?”

“Don’t make it weird, Fred,” you huffed. “The couch looks uncomfortable.”

"Are you, being nice to me?" He teased, the urge to take back your offer growing stronger.

"Don't make me change my mind, Weasley."

After a beat, he groaned. “Fine. But don’t hog the covers.”

"Please I sleep like a log, it's not like I'm going to cuddle you or anything."

"Cuddle me eh?" He mused.

"Not bloody likely, besides you're too annoying to be my type." You retort.

Fred stood up, walking to the other side of the bed. He slid in beside you, and the bed suddenly felt too small. You kept your back to him, but quickly got up and put one of the spare pillows between you.

"See this line? Don't cross it and you're good." You commanded, and he chuckled lightly,

"Alright alright." He raised in hands.

You turned away from him, back to him as you attempted to fall asleep. You hadn't realised how far you were from him, you were practically tipping over the edge of the bed.

You scooted inside a little, bumping into the pillow wall you put.

After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, you sighed in defeat. The room was cold, and the blankets were not much help.

You couldn't help but wonder if you were the only one awake. You extended your arm behind you, trying to find the pillow 'wall' you had put up. But with all the tossing and turning from the two of you, the pillow must've slipped out of place and down the lower half of the bed somewhere.

As you extended your arm behind you, you accidentally came into contact with Fred's back, and he shifted slightly before turning to face you instead.

It's dark, almost pitch black, but with the small glimmer of light, you can see that his eyes are shut. Curious you called out, "Fred?" you whispered. "Are you awake?"

"I am now, no thanks to you." He fluttered his eyes open, facing you.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to see if—"

"Don't be." He sighed, "Couldn't sleep a wink either. This room is bloody cold."

"The blankets aren't doing anything." You exhaled, agreeing, before an idea popped into you head.

"This might sound silly, but, if we revert back to old fashioned methods, we could, um—actually it's stupid, nevermind." You began, but quickly dismissed it.

"Go on, I'd like to hear what genius solution you've come up with."

"It's dumb, I don't think you'll like it."

"Try me." He replied.

You hesitated again before suggesting, “We could—uh—use body heat.”

He stared at you momentarily, it looked as though he thought about it, considering it before responding, “Absolutely not.”

"Okay, whatever, I just thought it was a feasible option. These robes aren't exactly pyjama material either." You say, trying to tighten your robes, with the hopes of warming up your body.

You both fell into silence again your back facing him once more, before Fred spoke up, "Come here."

"What?" You turned around.

"I suppose, we could try the body heat thing."

"Oh so now you want to try my idea?" You raise your brow, scoffing as you shift over slowly, and he extended his arm, pulling you in.

"Don't get any ideas, I just need to sleep and call it a day." You firmly spoke, pressing your back to him, as he faced you. You felt his heat, no doubt, it was working, and you were starting to warm up. In all the places apparently, your cheeks, and an area of yours down there. Your heart pounded as his hand rested against your back, his breath tickling your ear.

"Let's do shoulder-to-shoulder." You suggested, trying to hide your flustered-ness.

He didn't argue, respecting your decision. The two of you lay there, facing the ceiling as your shoulders touched. Though not as warm as before, it was still warmer at least.

You turned your head, Fred's face illuminated by the dim light coming through from the curtains, his jawline ever so chiselled. Merlin, he was undoubtedly a handsome chap. You shut your eyes, trying, yet again to enter a slumber.

As you laid there, eyes shut, Fred opened his, gauging you. He smiled softly as he took in your features, rolling his eyes fondly as he saw you breathing slowly.

You swore you were about to cast some sort of sleeping spell, because you still could not fall asleep for the life of you. You keep moving, accidentally brushing against Fred's body countless times but you couldn't help it, you needed to find a comfortable position.

You move your arm around the blanket, trying to find a comfortable position for yourself until you accidentally graze something, unexpected.

You freeze.

Did you actually just graze that?

Was he....?

You slowly turned to face him, your body merely an inch away from his. You see him shut his eyes, heavily breathing, his Adam's apple bopping up and down from swallowing hard.

"Would you quit moving so much?" He whispered, trying to contain himself.

"I....Fred, I didn't mean to." You pause. "You're still awake?"

"10 points to Y/H (your house), captain obvious."

You furrow your brows, turning on the bedside lamp which offered the tiniest bit of ambient light in the dark room.

Your gaze flickered down, and well, you saw, a little friend poking up from the sheets beneath him.

"Is that, because of m—" You swallowed not daring to finish the sentence, looking at his hard on. "I'm sorry shouldn't have moved so much."

"Alright, it's okay, it's not a big deal, so what it's normal right. I didn't mean to accidentally keep grazing or grinding on you, I was merely trying to find a comfortable position. Listen, I'm not weirded out or anything, you can go sort it out. Who am I to judge? This time tomorrow we'll all be at the burrow and I'll be sharing a room with Ginny and 'Mione, so it's fine, we can—" You began ranting out of nervousness, but Fred had enough, opening his eyes to sit up with you,

"Merlin, Y/N. Ranting like you're so innocent, moving around like that? On me?" He leans in closer, growling, "I bet you'd really want to know what got me provoked in the first place, yeah?"

You gulped, inspecting his features as he leaned in closer to you, now an inch apart, "You aggravate me, pushing my damn buttons all the bloody time. Maybe if you weren't such a whiny brat complaining about everything, I would've fucked you an hour ago till you were silenced.” He ranted before continuing,

“You want to know what got me so hard? You waltzing around in those darn bathrobes that are far too small, exposing every inch of your body, your cleavage is practically begging to be seen. I can't keep my fucking eyes off you. Ever since Hogwarts, it was always you, grating on my last nerves. I thought I hated you so, until I realised that there was a fine line between hate and attraction."

"Fred..." your eyelids flutter; how did his voice get so low and sensual? You could feel yourself throbbing, growing wetter by the minute, and you found yourself growing more needy for him.

"Bloody hell Y/N, you've got me wrapped around the irritating finger of yours."

"Just shut up and kiss me Fred." You breathlessly whisper, not realising that you'd been holding your breath the entire time.

After waiting for what seemed like forever, he wasted no time pouncing on you. His hand is behind your neck and he pushes you down onto the bed, hovering on top of you.

Fred's lips meet yours furiously, desperately, never in your life has someone kissed you this passionately before. You open your mouth, and he slides his tongue in, a desirous clash of tongues. He savours every inch of your mouth and it makes you wonder how long he's been wanting to do this for.

"May I?" He asks for permission as he tugs at the belt of your bathrobe.

You nod, too breathless to speak as you gaze up at him. Fred undoes your robes, leaving you clothe-less on the bed. He does the same, kneeling between your legs which are spread open and on either side of his waist. You subconsciously give him doe-eyes as he does so, merlin, he looked so deliciously attractive.

"So fucking beautiful, all this hidden from me all these years?" He leans down and gently kisses your neck while gripping your waist, sucking on a sensitive spot which earns a moan from you.

"Going to leave hickey's on you so everyone knows you're mine gorgeous."

"Who said I was yours?" Every so daring you retort, though you lacked conviction.

He chuckled lowly before sucking on another sensitive spot, leaving a reddish mark on you, "Fred..." you moan again. His kisses grow more wet and fervent as he plants kisses trailing down your body. His hands move from your waist to your breasts, massaging them gently as he continues further down your body.

You're barely able to control the obscene moans slipping from your mouth, any attempts at suppressing them growing more difficult by the second. You didn't even care that people around you might hear.

"You're soaking wet, and yet you say you're not mine." Fred cooed, his eyes glued to your heat, coated with glistening wetness.

You revel in the fact that he can barely take his eyes off you, you glance at him, eyes half-lidded, clouded with lust. Once he catches sight of your lustful eyes, desperate for him, he can't tear his gaze away from you. He slowly leans down, sensually licking your coated slick.

Your sensitive cunt throbs even harder upon the contact from his tongue, "Fred please..." You whine, throwing your head back onto the pillow.

He traces the shape of your vulva, pressing kitten licks on your needy clit, causing your legs to clamp around his head. He doesn't break eye-contact, as he continues to work his mouth around your core.

He continues sucking your clit, his tongue working his way on your swollen pearl.

You tangle your hands in his head, tugging lightly. Your body can't help but arch into his face due to the overwhelming pleasure, as he continues indulging in your cunt. "Merlin Fred!" You cry out as he suckles on a particularly sensitive spot.

"You taste so damn good love, so sweet unlike that bitter mouth, hm?"

"I'm yours Fred....all yours..." You whimper, succumbing to his words.

"Say that again." His voice low, commanding, you could feel the heat from his mouth near your throbbing cunt.

"I'm yours, Fred." You moan, as he continues straight into your core.

The feeling is heavenly, both hands tangled in his red locks as he gives you the most pleasant head you've ever felt in your life. Once he stops assaulting your clit, he lifts his head and faces you, his eyes smiling up at you, as though you are the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

Oh, you're so close, tilting over the edge of something mind-blowing. He leans down and gives your clit a few more kitten licks, planting soft kisses before pulling away, just as you were about to cum.

"Don't stop," you whimper, "I was so close...."

"Fred?" You plead, again, but he sits up and crawls to you, now hovering over you his hands on either side of your head. "Please let me cum...."

"You will, darling." He cooes, leaning down to your ear, "Around my cock."

You felt yourself throbbing yet again, upon his words. What the hell was he doing to you, causing you to feel this weak beneath him? This powerless? Your sharp, witty tongue, nowhere in sight.

"Please Fred, I need you." You whine, begging him for more.

"What ever happened to, 'I despise you'?" He hovered over you and you sat up, meeting his lips. Giving him a passionate, hungry kiss before pulling away,

"There is a fine line between hate and love, and I think today I've learnt that you've been sitting in the wrong category all along."

He smiled, brushing a hand on your cheek as he gazed down at you lovingly, "Took me so long to realise that you're the only person I've ever felt something with."

"Took us bloody ages." You roll your eyes fondly, before giggling as he pecked your forehead gently.

You gazed up at him with doe-eyes, and him down at you, to your lips then back up, his mouth parted slightly as he took in how breathtaking you looked beneath him. Shit, you were always beautiful to him, he'd only now realised.

"Need you inside me Fred." You plead softly, desperately, which only fuelled his desire for you even more.

"Anything for you, love."

You never thought you'd admit it, but he has a fucking incredible dick. You assumed he'd be packing because he was 6"3, but the sight of it made you drool. Bloody hell, he had every right to be so smug.

His slit was already leaking with precum, his eyes lock onto yours as he lowers himself. Your legs are still on each side of his waist, he grabs his dick and teases it along your wet entrance, sliding it a few times to coat it with your slickness.

You involuntarily buck your hips, desperate for penetration as you whimper. He slowly lowers himself down, and finally into you.

At first, you hiss at the pain upon being stretched out by his hugeness, you could feel him stretching your walls, registering that fact that he was fully inside you now.

"Fuck...." he moans, letting out a groan, "So tight for me hm?"

"Freddie...." You moan as he begins moving, rocking his hips slowly. You get used to the size of him, filling you to the brim, every slight bit of movement causing your walls to tense around his dick, rubbing within you sensually.

"I know baby, I know." He responds softly, continuing at this pace.

With every rock, his breathing increases, your soft pleas and his eager pants filling the room as he speeds up, going faster and harder.

Your moans start to get louder, getting more deafening by the minute. Fred leans down to plant kisses on your neck, and pecking your lips occasionally, you moan into him as he drives himself further into your core.

"You're doing so well baby." He coos into your ear, murmuring praises as he continues to thrust into you.

Fred doesn't stop pounding into you, you move your hands to his back, your nails practically digging into his skin from the pleasure.

Skin slapping against skin, you feel every jolt of his body into you. He's fucking you so gently but hard at the same time, treating you as though you were the most fragile thing on the planet.

"Baby..." You whimper, eyes fluttering shut, as he continues thrusting into you deeply, you are overwhelmed with so much pressure that you might cry, but it just felt so damn pleasurable.

"I'm getting close Fred." You pant, breathing heavily, as he picks up his pace.

"Look at me." He demands, and you open your eyes, gazing into his hazel ones. For once, they aren't filled with irritation, or the usual annoyance you were used to seeing, they were more gentle, admiring you, it was a look of love.

"Fred, I'm so close!" You cry out, feeling an orgasm coming closer, "I'm gonna—" you can barely finish your sentence, the pressure. on your g-spot and the intense penetration becoming too much for you to handle, along with the gaze of hazel eyes burning into you.

You let out an obscene moan as your walls clench around him, you jerk harshly, causing him to let out a guttural moan. It's a pleasurable ache, your entire body pulses beneath him.

"Gonna come inside you baby, that okay?" He asks, and you nod, to breathless to speak.

Seconds later, he comes undone, squirting his juices inside you. The world slows down as you enter your state of euphoria; you're entangled in pure bliss as you come down from your high. Your body is still electrified from the feeling before.

It takes a while for you to fully settle down. You slowly flutter your eyes open to find yourself engulfed in Fred's buff arms, your breathing in sync. The two of you lean against the wooden bed-frame, and you lean your head on his shoulder, while he cradles you.

You glance down at your body and notice that it's covered in marks, which looked bloody hot. Merlin, you really were Fred's now huh?

"So much for body heat." You chuckled softly, as he stroked your back gently.

He laughs, and you feel the vibrations of his chest, "The best kind of heat if you ask me." He says which earned an eyeroll from you.

Fred plants a soft kiss on your head, "Y'know I'm not one for apologies, but I was a bit of a jerk to you back in Hogwarts, and I want to apologise."

"It was a two-way thing, Freddie, suppose I should apologise for being one too. Merlin, you did grate on every last one of my nerves though." You tease.

"Always a pleasure." He grinned down at you, engulfed in his arms as you looked up at him, sharing a moment of sweet silence as you put the past behind you.

A ray of moonlight shone through the tiny gap in the curtain. You turned your head, glancing out the window as you pondered about the others back at the burrow.

"What're we going to tell the others when we find them tomorrow?" You giggled, taking in the state you were both in.

"I have a feeling they won't be surprised." Fred confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone in my family thinks we have a thing for each other, especially Ginny. Won't stop talking about us that sister of mine."

"Since when?!" You were amused, the two of you were the epitome of the word hate back in Hogwarts and to hear a statement like this shocked you.

"Since school apparently." He laughed, shaking his head, "I thought it was silly too, but look where we are now."

"Just wait one day, you'll eventually get married." He mocked Ginny's tone, mirroring her facial expressions too, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Please, you and me?" You raised a brow, teasing him, though biting back a fond smile.

"Neverrrr." He scrunched up his nose, holding you closer as you both now laid down in bed, safely in each other's grasp.

Finally comfortable, you found yourself drifting off into a much-needed slumber. The same could be said for Fred, it was safe to say the body-heat idea turned out better than anticipated.

And with this newfound love, perhaps the broomstick breaking was a blessing in disguise.

[mugglebornmarvelite]

Game Night

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: Steve’s mandatory game night takes a turn when you and Bucky are paired up.

Word Count: Roughly 1.4k 

Warnings: Fluff, banter, friendly competition, implied threats, destroying property (Bucky and Sam), romantic tension everyone can feel, and some overprotective Bucky because that man does not play about his sunshine.

Author’s Note: Sorry for the delay; I was helping my friend with a research project. Ugh, it feels choppy, but I hope this is to your liking, babes ;)

Navigation

Divider by: @strangergraphics

The living room buzzed with energy as the Avengers tried to recover from the chaos of their most recent mission; the munching of chips and clinking of drinks in glasses filled the space.

Peter and you were talking animatedly about the mission, with Peter recounting how he flipped mid-air, webbing a bad guy to a nearby wall.

“I mean, I swear, the guy didn’t see it coming. I was way higher up than I thought, and then BAM!” Peter dramatically mimicked the motion with his arms, sending you into fits of laughter.

“It’s honestly kind of unfair that you can just flip your way out of everything, Pete,” you teased, elbowing him.

He shrugged, all smugness. “I mean, someone’s gotta make the web-swinging look good, right?”

Before you could reply, Steve stood up from his spot, clapping his hands for attention. “Alright, team! Time for some mandatory bonding!”

A chorus of groans erupted from the group, each one from someone hoping to escape Steve’s relentless enthusiasm for ‘team-building’ nights.

“Tonight is Charades.” Steve declared.

That’s when Steve decided to assign the partners. He glanced around the room with a twinkle in his eye and paired you with Bucky, clearly anticipating the fun to come.

You gave Bucky your signature puppy dog eyes, and he looked away with a scowl as he crossed his arms over his chest, not wanting to give in and show that he was happy to be partnered with you.

“Oh, great,” Bucky muttered, rolling his eyes. “This is gonna be a disaster.”

You didn’t let his grumpiness throw you off. “Bucky, come on!” you said, plopping beside him on the couch. “We’ve got this! We’re unstoppable!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and shot you a skeptical look. “Sure, sure. We’ll see about that.”

He didn’t seem convinced, and as Sam overheard, he couldn’t resist adding his two cents.

"Oh, this is gonna be easy," Sam declared loudly, rolling his eyes. "Grumpy Barnes can’t even smile, let alone act."

"You’re gonna regret that," Bucky shot back, his tone thick with warning. 

His words weren’t loud, but they were laced with enough warning that Sam quickly leaned back into his seat, hands raised in mock surrender.

"Okay, okay, I get it," Sam laughed, but you caught the wariness in his eyes. "But not holding my breath, this will be easy."

Then, leaning in toward you, he whispered, “If we lose to that clown, I’m never letting it go.”

You gave him an exaggerated look of disbelief, pretending to be shocked. "Who knew you cared so much about winning?"

Bucky’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk. "Don’t mess this up," he teased.

You winked at him. “You’re with me. How could we lose?”

As the game started, it quickly became clear that Bucky treated charades less like a fun group activity and more like a tactical mission. His intense focus was almost comical, but you fell into an unspoken rhythm. 

When it was your turn to act, Bucky’s sharp eyes locked onto you, and after a few gestures, he almost always guessed your clues. When it was his turn, he leaned into the ridiculousness of it all, whether miming a gorilla or pretending to be a ballerina, just to keep your laughter ringing through the room.

By the end of the game, the scoreboard showed a landslide victory in your favor. Bucky allowed himself a small, smug grin as you squealed in delight and launched yourself into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“We’re the dream team!” you exclaimed, giggling as you clung to him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, though his grip on you was secure, his metal arm effortlessly supporting you. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Much to everyone's amusement, he carried you back to the couch, where he promptly plopped you into his lap. “You’re comfy,” you declared with a grin, making yourself home. 

Sam, clearly displeased, waved a hand in your direction. “This has to be rigged. There’s no way those two didn’t cheat.”

Natasha snorted, leaning back in her chair. “They didn’t cheat, Wilson. They’re just disgustingly in sync.”

Sam grabbed a pillow and chucked it at you. “Sync this!”

The pillow hit you square in the face, and you burst out laughing, holding it in your lap. “It’s just a pillow!”

But Bucky didn’t see it that way. His gaze turned sharp as he caught the second pillow Sam threw mid-air. “If you throw another one at her...”

Sam, of course, took that as a challenge. “What are you gonna do, Barnes?” he quipped, hurling another pillow that you easily dodged.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll give you a five-second head start.”

Sam’s smirk faltered. “Wait, what?”

Without a word, Bucky carefully brushed your hair out of your face, placed you gently on the couch, and stood up. The room went silent as he walked purposefully toward the hallway. 

“What’s he doing?” you asked, looking to Steve for answers.

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, hiding a smile. “He’s going to smash Redwing.”

Sam’s eyes widened in panic. 

“Barnes, you touch Redwing, I swear-” He bolted after Bucky, and the two disappeared down the hall. 

Moments later, a loud crash echoed through the compound, followed by Sam’s yelling and Bucky’s retorts.

Natasha chuckled, shaking her head as she leaned back on the couch. “This happens all the time.”

You glanced between her and Steve, bewildered. “Doesn’t anyone stop them?”

Steve shrugged. “Nope. They’ll tire themselves out eventually.”

From a distance, the team could hear the muffled sounds of Bucky and Sam bickering echoing through the compound. 

“Touch Redwing, and you’re paying for a whole new one!” Sam’s voice was laced with fear.

“Oh, don’t worry, Wilson,” Bucky shot back, his tone mockingly calm. “I’ll make sure to recycle the pieces. I hear it’s good for the environment.”

A loud thud followed as if Bucky had knocked something over or thrown something against the wall. 

“Man, what is your problem?” Sam hollered. “You act like I threw a brick at her!”

“You hit her in the face!” Bucky retorted.

“It was a pillow!” Sam defended himself. “It probably felt like a marshmallow.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bucky countered. “You don’t throw things at her. Ever.”

Back in the living room, you stifled a laugh as Natasha shook her head in amused disbelief. “It’s always like this,” she said, smirking. “I don’t know why Sam keeps testing him.”

Steve folded his arms, looking like the exasperated dad of the group. “Because Sam likes pushing buttons. And Bucky…well, Bucky only has so much patience.”

Another crash echoed from down the hallway, followed by Sam’s yell. “Oh, come on! That wasn’t even Redwing! That was my lamp!”

“You’ve got terrible taste in decor, Wilson,” Bucky said, completely unfazed.

“YOU OWE ME A NEW LAMP!” Sam shouted.

“I did you a favor.” Bucky said dryly. “So say ‘thank you,’ it's polite.”

You couldn’t hold back your giggles any longer. “Should we...I don’t know, step in?” you asked, looking at Steve.

Steve shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Nah. Let them hash it out. Bucky’s not actually going to break Redwing. Probably.”

“Probably?” Natasha echoed. “You’re really putting a lot of faith in him.”

From the hallway, Sam yelled again. “THAT’S IT, BARNES. YOU AND ME. SPARRING MATCH TOMORROW.”

“Fine,” Bucky fired back. “But don’t be mad when I wipe the floor with you, bird brain.”

Natasha leaned over to you, her voice low. “You know he’s only this protective because it’s you, right? He doesn’t care this much when we get hit with stuff.”

You blushed, glancing down at your hands. “He’s just…looking out for me. Like a guardian.”

Natasha snorted. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

Steve smiled knowingly but didn’t say anything. 

The sounds of Sam and Bucky’s argument gradually faded as they came back.

Sam was glaring, his hair disheveled, and he muttered under his breath about never forgiving Bucky. 

Bucky, on the other hand, was smug, like he had just won a personal victory.

Sam threw himself back down on the couch, muttering something about "not talking to Barnes for the rest of the week," to which Bucky gave a half-hearted shrug.

He sat down beside you, his arm casually draped across the back of the couch. His eyes flicked down to you, and without a word, he reached out to brush his knuckles lightly over your knee.

“You okay, sunshine?” he asked quietly, only for you to hear.

You smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Bucky’s lips quirked upward, just slightly. “Good,” he said softly. “No one messes with you. Not even Sam.”

The others shared amused looks, but neither of you paid them any mind. Bucky’s protective side made your heart flutter in a way you didn’t quite understand, and you sank further into the couch, curling into his side.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

Tags: @princess-lil-spidey @sapphirebarnes @mgchaser @sparklystarsandstrawberries @arcadia-smith @rnurse-kole @juliebluehufflepuff @sailorsenshiuranep @alexxavicry @ficcharsimp

If you'd like to be added to my taglist or just ask me, and I'll update it!

Much love x

- Maeve

[stellamarielu]

soft

jack abbot x female reader

summary: jack gets injured on his shift and you’re there to help him get stitched up, making it impossible for him to ignore the soft side you bring out in him— especially when it makes his heart rate jump alarmingly high.

content: just a whole lot of fluff, reader is a resident on robby’s shift and jack has a capital c crush, i’m talking down astronomically bad, cursing, lots of cheesy banter between robby and jack bc i couldn’t help myself, reader is described to be upbeat and positive, very sunshine x grump coded, also the reader wears bright colors and patterns from time to time [sorry if that’s not your jam it just has to be that way for the plot, you get it], mentions of a brief altercation, mentions of blood and stitches, bad medical terminology [don’t yell at me i tried my best]

word count: 3.5k

author’s note: ok so hi this is my submission for the A DOCTOR A DAY event! but it's also a request from the lovely and talented @letsgobarbs so I thought I'd put them together and make this bad boy. thank you loops for the extraordinary idea, and thank you to my lovely babies, @clubsoft @ananonymousaffair and @letsgobarbs for putting on such an incredible little event! very very excited to see all the entires! my assigned dialogue was, “nothing defines a man like love that makes him soft.” and the color i got was green!

A reoccurring psych patient, and an elbow straight to the eye, landed Jack a seat in his own emergency department.

“I’m fine,” his voice came out with a twinge of annoyance, and a profusion of frustration as he side-eyed Robby from across the room.

But he was indeed, not fine. He was annoyed— borderline livid— at the current situation.

He should be on his way home, not sitting in an open treatment room with blood trickling down the side of his face.

It was completely unintentional, just an unstable patient throwing limbs in an effort to avoid an IV. What he thought would be his last case of the day, was now the reason for his friend making jokes at his expense, while Jack waited to get his brow sutured up so he could finally go home. 

“Yeah Okay. Whatever you wanna tell yourself.” Robby’s voice filled the room as he gathered supplies for the simple procedure.

“If Gloria found out you got a work related injury and walked out of those doors without somebody clearing you— on my shift? She’d have my neck.”

“Whatever, just make it fast.” 

All Jack could think about was how last night’s shift felt like the longest one he’d worked in a while. Taking a hit straight to the face was just the cherry on top of a dreadful night. The comfort of his bed was starting to look unbelievably far away as his presence at the hospital persisted long after it was supposed to.

“What’s the rush? You got a hot date I don’t know about?” Robby’s expression was a little too amused for Jack’s taste, as he placed a pulse oximeter on his finger.

“Yeah actually, her name is a breakfast bagel from Cal’s and 7 hours of uninterrupted sleep.” Jack stared down at the contraption sitting on his pointer finger, almost chuckling to himself at Robby’s commitment to care.

“A pulse ox? You’re really serious about this whole Gloria thing huh?”

“Yeah she’s been on my ass lately. Plus you got hit pretty hard, gotta make sure you don’t go down on us. Your risk for a heart attack is only going up with your age.” The smug curl of Robby’s lips as he pulled at the latex of his glove, made Jack instinctively roll his eyes.

Before Robby could start stitching, Dana’s voice carried into the room as she passed by the open door, “Robby, we’ve got a motorcyclist coming in. Multiple open fractures, severe blood loss with trauma to the head, and a possible pneumothorax, about 3 minutes out.” 

Robby shot Jack a knowing look as if to say, sorry buddy, duty calls.

“Oh c’mon, you’ve got this in three minutes.” Jack was desperate to get out of the hospital and on his way home. He was right, they both knew Robby was more than capable of lacing up two or three quick stitches before he was needed on the incoming trauma.

“As much as I would love to sit here and miss potentially the best case of my day to be ridiculed by you, I’m gonna have to make your fucked up eyebrow somebody else’s problem. Don’t worry, I’ll leave you in good hands.”

The sudden smirk Robby shot his way, had confusion clouding Jack’s mind. It wasn’t until the smug attending was calling out your name, that Jack understood the motive behind Robby’s words.

“Oh, you have to be kidding me.” The murmured annoyance from Jack’s lips sent Robby chuckling.

The laugh was no doubt caused by the memory of a shared confession over a couple of beers not more than three weeks ago.

Jack and Robby went out for drinks on their day off. It was a regular occurrence, but that specific night was a little different, because that night, Jack let it slip that he thought you were pretty. 

The men were sat side by side at the bar, recounting some of their best cases of the week, when Robby brought up your impressive intubation record.

Jack’s comment on your abilities had Robby stunned into a quick moment of silence.

“Pretty and she knows how to clear an airway.”

It was a subconscious declaration of affection from Jack, spoken into his glass as he took a sip of beer. 

A meek confession that Robby clung to, because he’d always noticed it— the way Jack’s stare lingered a little too long on you in those fleeting minutes when your shifts overlapped.

It was impossible for him to miss his friend’s not-so-subtle flirting when you were around. He’d been patient, waiting for Jack to bring it up first.

“Just your type.”

Robby’s words met Jack in the same way, stumbling off his lips and into his glass before taking a swig.

You were one of Robby’s residents. One of his favorites actually. A phenomenal doctor, always one step ahead of everyone else and charting your own course without having to be told what to do, it made Robby’s life a whole lot easier. What didn’t make Robby’s life easier? Watching his best friend dance around his undeniable attraction to you. He knew better than anyone that Jack had been out of the game for a while.

In fact, he hadn’t seen him show interest in anyone until you came along. Over the three months of shy smiles and round-about compliments paid to each other in passing, you and Jack's interactions had become impossible for Robby to ignore. He'd even tried bringing them up multiple times to see if Jack would admit to having a crush on you, only for him to jokingly brush it off every time.

“You could ask her out, you know?” Robby kept nursing his drink, trying to look nonchalant because the moment he put too much attention on the topic, he knew Jack would shut it down. 

“Yeah, we’re not doing this.”

And there it was, right on cue. Shut it down, and brush it off, like he did every time.

“Oh come on Jack. She’s great, you’re great, I see the way your demeanor changes when she's around.”

“Oh does it now?” Deciding to indulge in Robby’s incessant need to meddle in his lovelife, Jack fed into his friend’s accusation with raised brows and chuckle on his lips. 

“Yeah you get a little softer.”

“And, what makes you think I’m not just tired after a long night of people griping at me.”

Robby let a brief blanket of silence fall over the two of them before adding one final thought to the conversation.

“Nothing defines a man like love that makes him soft.” Robby smiled as he said it. He knew Jack would give him a hard time for saying something so introspectively cheesy, but he also knew it would resonate with him whether Jack chose to admit it or not. 

“I’m sorry?” Jack nearly choked on his IPA at the abnormally poetic words leaving Robby’s mouth. 

“Did you just pull that right out of your ass or what?” He was giving Robby a hard time, but couldn’t deny the truth hiding in the statement. 

That night he went home and lost more sleep than usual thinking about you— playing out past conversations over and over again in his mind, just to hear you say his name, or to see the captivating curve of your lips. The visions kept him up, even if it was just glimpses of you in his memory.

Robby didn't bring up Jack's comment about you after that night.

A few lingering stares and silent chuckles slipped from him when he watched the two of you interact, but he decided against bringing up that specific conversation. He knew Jack would just dismiss him, and keep to his stubborn reservations when it came to you, so he didn't push. 

This was the first time Robby took a chance, venturing into the territory of Jack’s confessed feelings. The timing was impeccable, with him needing to find someone else to do Jack’s sutures. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to force the two of you to be alone in a room together. 

“What can I say? I like watching you squirm,” a low giggle remained on his lips as Robby aimed his words at Jack, just before you appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, what’s going on?” 

Soothing with a gentle glimmer of energy, your voice flooded the room in mellow twilight and shimmering stars, hitting Jack’s ears in a way that instantly made his face heat up.

“Dr. Abbot here, took an elbow straight to the face first thing this morning. I was gonna stitch it up, but they need me on the incoming trauma.” Robby barely looked your direction as he spoke, but Jack couldn’t take his eyes off you, only a few feet from him, watching from the doorframe.

“Think you can handle it?” Robby glanced over at you as he joked, a grin stretching across his face.

“I’ve got it covered, boss.” You matched his playful tone, and the whimsical change of your voice made Jack’s eyes divert to the ceiling because— fuck Robby for doing this to him. 

“Make sure to keep an eye on his vitals, he took a pretty hard hit.” Robby’s voice carried from down the hall as he walked out of the room, leaving you and Jack alone.

You took to the space in front of Jack. 

Your body slid so effortlessly next to him, that he had to fight not to adjust his position under the sudden nervousness of having you so close. 

Drawing a quiet breath at the feeling of your thigh resting next to his, he sat still on the edge of the cot. You were on his right side, your left leg gently pressed against him as you leaned closer toward his body to get a good look at his face.

“Damn that’s bad. Someone really had it out for you this morning, huh?” Your fingertips barely touched his temple as you examined his forehead. An audible swallow pushed down his throat at the contact.

He didn’t know what was more embarrassing, his body’s immediate response to your touch, or the fact that he’d nearly been taken out by a patient, and you were the one witnessing him in such a vulnerable position. 

“Yeah well, he had a really effective defense response. I'll give him that.”

Thank god his voice didn’t betray him. His words came out clear and concise, despite the fluttering in his chest at your body right next to his.

Then you laughed. 

He really loved your laugh. In fact, he went out of his way to make jokes just to hear it. It was soft, but rich. The kind of distinctive, infectious sound you could hear in a crowded room ten years later and know exactly who it belonged to. 

“Well, I’m sorry you had to be on the receiving end of it.”

The laughter fizzled from your voice and was replaced with genuine concern as you cleaned his brow. The gentle passes of gauze against his forehead made his mouth go dry, only because he knew it was your fingertips behind the motion.

“Somebody’s gotta take one for the team.” His response was quick as he focused on the words leaving his mouth, trying not to think about the way your hands were working so carefully to take care of him.

Your presence made him nervous enough, but your touch? He couldn’t get a handle on the distraction of your fingers on his skin, even if there was a veil of latex and gauze in between.

You bent further forward into his body, the warmth of your thigh pressing harder against his as your hands carefully angled his head where you needed it, fingertips underneath his jaw, and at his temple. He forced his stare to the floor out of fear that looking into your eyes would send him straight into cardiac arrest.

Looking down at your shoes, he memorized the pattern of your laces to keep himself from thinking about the mildly intoxicating scent radiating from your body. He’d never been this close to you before— close enough to get a whiff of something fresh and so distinctively you.

Maybe it was your shampoo, or laundry detergent? Perfume perhaps?

Shoes. Back to your shoes. It was the same pair of white sneakers you wore most days, but the green socks peeking out at your ankles made him grin. A subtle smile that he was sure you wouldn’t notice as you prepared a needle at your fingertips. 

You always wore a pop of color, something to bring your own personal style into the doldrum of the ER.

It was something he shouldn’t have noticed; the patterned shirts you sometimes wore under your scrub top, the red hair tie you left on your wrist every so often, the memorable collection of colorful socks you constantly sported with your tennis shoes…

The subtle excitement of your accessories matched the bright charisma you brought into the building every time you walked through the doors. You appeared every morning like his own personal ray of sunshine, equipped with an irresistible laugh, sweet smile, and lime green socks. 

“Are you feeling okay?” His sock induced trance was broken at the sound of your voice— abrupt and concerned.

“Yeah, I’m good.” His eyes peered up only to notice your stare fixed on the pulse ox resting on his finger.

He almost forgot about it entirely, busy with the distraction of your proximity taking over his entire being.

“Your heart rate is just really high.” 

Of course it was. 

His heart was nearly beating out of his chest from the moment Robby called out your name earlier. 

“I’m fine.” He tried to move his hand further from your view, hoping to brush it under the rug, and get a move on with the mortifying interaction. 

“Are you sure? If he hit you hard enough to break skin maybe-”

“I promise. I’m fine.” He pulled out a tone in his voice that people usually didn’t argue with. It was a deep, commanding timbre that he had perfected over the years. It came in handy when he had an especially combative patient, or in this case an extremely beautiful woman hounding him for an incredibly humiliating confession as to why he couldn’t get a grip on his bodily reaction to her presence. 

“Whatever you say, Dr. Abbot.” Finally giving up the fight, you let a spirited air back into your words. Jokingly dismissing your concern, and trading it in for weary trust as you let him convince you that he was okay despite his alarmingly high heart rate. 

“But if you go AFib on me…” 

“I won’t,” his voice still held the same robust sound as he looked you straight in the eyes.

“Just stress.” He looked at you as he spoke, and the desperation in his eyes contradicting the tone of his voice.

His stare was tender, and almost pleading while his words spread through the room, sturdy and sure. 

“Or adrenaline or something… I’ll be fine.” He didn’t look away as he continued explaining the reason for his quickening pulse. You found it slightly unnerving, and undeniably endearing as he kept his eyes fixed on yours for far too long. His words began to trail quietly, slowly losing their robust momentum. 

Jack was in a complete daze. He made the mistake of looking up into your eyes, and now he was stuck, getting lost in the all too familiar color, illuminated by the concentration in your gentle stare. He was enamored.

“Well I’ll be quick so you can get out of here.” You reached down to grab some supplies before bringing your hands back up to Jack’s face, finally starting to suture his brow. 

“Although I’m sure Robby would’ve been done by now.” Your eyes zoned in on his injury, while Jack’s stare stayed trained on your face. 

“Eh, I’m glad you’re here and not him.” His voice was amiable and subdued, dripping with a delicate sound you’d never heard from him before. 

“Why’s that?” Still watching the careful work of the needle threading at his forehead, your eyes narrowed in focus, as the question formed on your lips.

“I’d have to deal with his smartass jokes. Plus, he’s too perky in the mornings.”

“And I’m not?”

He wanted to laugh at your question. Of course you weren’t too perky in the mornings. You weren’t too anything. You were perfect. 

“I don’t mind it when you are.” Your movements paused for a split second when the words left his mouth in that same strange, fragile tone.

You could feel his eyes watching- peering up, as you tried your best to keep your attention on your hands.

He felt you stop, internally panicking that he’d said something wrong, he kept talking. 

“I just- you’re different.” The words stumbled out, losing a bit of their fragility as they tripped over each other in an effort to reassure you. 

Your brows furrowed slightly at the word and Jack was convinced he’d just dug a deeper hole to bury himself in. 

“Different?” The one word question left your lips as they struggled to withhold a smile. 

You were amused at the way Jack was fumbling over his words.

It was rare to catch him in such a flustered state. You chalked it up to the fresh wound he’d just received, and his abnormally high heart rate that he really should be paying more attention to. 

“Pleasant.” 

Then you stopped. Longer this time. It must’ve been at least 30 seconds that your fingers paused their threading, as you glanced down at the pulse ox between sutures. Sure enough his heart was racing again.

110 bpm.

You would be concerned about his inevitable descent into a questionable cardiac rhythm if it weren’t for the way his eyes were fixed on yours. His stare was so deliberate, you could feel your own pulse quickening underneath the growing heat of your skin. 

“Pleasant? How so?”

112 bpm.

“You just have this way of making everyone happy. It’s subtle. You’re always smiling and positive, but it’s never performative, it’s just who you are.”

A warmth spreads through your body at the compliment, rolling like waves as each of his words washed over you, completely enveloping you in a state of coy flattery. 

“You’re just easy to be around.” 

The heat threatened to reach your face, as he continued talking. His words were nearly a whisper with his voice floating up to you, low and smooth. 

“I like being around you.” 

115 bpm.

You open your mouth before you’ve even decided how you want to respond to Jack’s innocent confession, then unexpectedly, a voice that’s not yours fills the room.

“Still not done in here?” Robby came barreling into the room. His presence was loud and boisterous compared to the sheepish exchange taking place between you and Jack.

He stopped a few feet into the room. Seeing your body so close to Jack’s, with your hands still working at the injury on his forehead, and your eyes locked on each other, seemed to make him apprehensive about continuing into the room, like he was interrupting something.

“Jesus, let the man go home.” His chuckle echoed around you as he decided to come closer, inspecting your work. 

“That was fast. What happened to that being the best case of your day?” Jack piped up from underneath your touch. He was careful not to move his head as he aimed his question at Robby, eyes averting to the man standing next to you. 

“Yeah, it went south pretty quick.” Robby’s voice finally found a level close to silence, as he watched in concentration while you tied off the last stitch. 

“You need some help there? I could send in one of the medical students-” He joked looking over at you. He knew you were quick. The way you were taking your time, being overly methodical with Jack, was out of character for you. 

“Very funny. I’m done.” You softly glared over at Robby as you took a step back, pulling your gloves off.

“See what I mean about the smartass jokes?” Jack’s eyes were on you, still holding a lingering softness from your unfinished conversation just moments prior. 

“Oh so I leave you two alone for a few minutes and you just use it to talk bad about me?” Pretending to be offended, Robby scoffed at the notion of you two discussing his comedic timing, watching as you and Jack just stared at one another.

“Something like that.”

Your response was hidden behind a smile while you and Jack stayed submerged in a brief moment of smitten eye contact and unquestionable curiosity, before you made your way to the open door.

“I’m gonna get back out there. Try not to take anymore elbows to the face Dr. Abbot,” You joked before taking a single step into the hallway, turning your back for a split second to look at him one last time.

“and I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

With that, you were already halfway down the hall, onto the next patient.

Robby stared at Jack with a goofy smile forming on his mouth as your absence left the room silent.

“Don’t.”

The single word snapped from Jack as he brushed past Robby, leaving the room before he could be hit with his friend’s smug confrontation.

He left for the day, but not before stopping by the triage desk on his way out, purposefully walking past you just to get one last glimpse of your smile for the day.

the pitt masterlist

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts

Bob Reynolds x Thunderbolts!reader

Summary: When a tipsy Y/N stumbles into his arms, full of affection and slurred confessions, Bob steps in to take care of her. What she doesn’t realize is that he’s been falling for her all along and her sudden mission assignment has just about crushed bob

WC: 2.8K

⸻

It was supposed to be a classy rooftop event promotion party, influencers, signature cocktails, a string quartet playing edgy remixes of classic rock.

Everyone was in sleek suits or silky dresses, posing for the press with polite smiles and champagne in hand. The interviews had gone well. Nobody spilled secrets, nobody swore on live TV (Alexei came very close), and no one walked out.

But five cocktails in, “classy” had been abandoned.

The entire Thunderbolts team was gathered around a long marble bar near the rooftop edge, city lights flickering like a galaxy below. But no one, no one, was as drunk as you and Alexei.

“Listen- listen to me,” you slurred, gripping John’s forearm like it anchored you to Earth. “We’re the heart of the team. Me, you, and Alexei. The heart and the- uh- liver.”

“I was Captain America” John reminded you, sipping his beer. “I am the liver. I filter the bullshit.”

You draped your arm back dramatically across a velvet stool grabbing another champagne flute in hand, head thrown back in laughter now while John refocused his attention to Alexei who drunkenly suggested arm wrestling.

Yelena was tipsy, sipping some martini concoction and live commentating everyone’s every play.

Bucky watched the chaos unfold with the patience of a babysitter, nursing his drink with a small smirk, leaning close to Ava, who was only pretending not to be amused by the disaster unfolding.

And Bob?

Bob was sober.

Completely, annoyingly sober in the corner, curls neatly combed and a soda water in hand.

He stood just behind the group, quiet in a button down and sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair glinted under the string lights. His eyes? Fixed on you.

You didn’t notice at first. Too busy rolling your eyes at John while he flexed his arm. “You know,” you muttered, “I’d say your ego’s almost as big as your biceps Walker, but they aren’t big at all”

“Almost?” he scoffed, tossing back a tequila shot, only hearing the first part.

Back to Alexei, slipping off his barstool and knocked into a waiter. Three glasses of prosecco went flying.

You howled with laughter.

Bob sighed.

He’d been watching your steady slide into drunk mischief all night, fighting the urge to step in. But when you finally tripped slightly on your heel and clung to the bar to steady yourself. laughing the whole time before finally getting up, he took initiative to wander towards you.

“Okay,” he said gently, appearing at your side like a guardian angel. “I think that’s enough champagne for you.”

You blinked up at him slowly, pupils wide, cheeks flushed.

“Oh no,” you said, smiling coyly. “It’s the Boy Scout.”

Bob raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you call me when you think I’m not listening?”

“I call you worse when I know you’re listening.”

That made him chuckle. A warm sound. And something in your chest fluttered.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get you some water.”

He helped you walk straight but you managed to stumbled into him still. Your arms wrapped around his torso as you giggled into his shirt. Bob didn’t move at first. He just looked down at you, stunned, his hands hovering like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“You smell really good,” you mumbled against his chest. “Like sunshine. Or… woodsy soap. And something expensive.”

“That’s very specific,” he said carefully, trying not to melt as your fingers clutched his shirtfront.

“Mmm. Your arms are so big, Bob.” Your palms smoothed down over the muscles of his biceps, then circled his waist. “How do you hide these under those sweaters?”

Bob’s face was turning the same shade as the pink lighting overhead. You leaned your head against his chest with a soft hum, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his jacket.

“Y/N.” His voice was strangled. “Maybe we should sit down.”

You looked up at him, eyes glassy but bright. “You’re so nice to me. You always open the door and hold my chair and tell me to drink water and you always remember if I’m cold or tired and—”

He was smiling now, soft and a little exasperated. “I just care about you.”

Your heart thumped.

You hiccupped. “I like when you care about me. I like you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded, your face suddenly serious. “You have perfect hair. And perfect hands. And your eyes do that glowy thing sometimes when you get mad but I think it’s hot- I think you’re secretly in love with me.” you whispered against his collar.

Bob stilled.

You looked up again with drunken sincerity. “It’s okay. I’m in love with you too. Don’t worry- I won’t tell the team. It can be our little secret.”

Bob let out a slow, stunned breath, brushing your hair back with more care than you could process in your current state. “You’re gonna hate me for this in the morning.”

You grinned sleepily. “Not possible. You’re my favorite.”

“I thought Alexei was your favorite,” Bob teased softly, trying to keep your balance as you leaned more into him.

You glanced over at the Russian man in question now sprawled on a velvet chaise lounge, snoring softly with one boot in a flower arrangement.

“Alexei’s funny.” you said with the grave tone of someone making a very serious declaration. “But he doesn’t make me feel the way you do.”

Before you could say more that Bob thinks you’ll regret in the morning he was steering you gently to another nearby lounge.

You practically flopped into it, arms still tangled around his neck, and he followed with a quiet laugh, kneeling in front of you.

“Water,” he said, grabbing a glass from a passing waiter. “Sip it. Slowly.”

“Will you kiss me if I do?”

Bob turned red to the roots of his hair.

“I think you’re too drunk for that right now.”

“Ugh,” you groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the cushions. “Why are you so honorable?”

“Because someone in this group has to be.”

You tugged Bob’s sleeve, pulling him closer again. “Hey. You wanna know a secret?”

“Sure,” he said, voice hushed like he was indulging a child. But his smile was aching.

“I’m not that drunk.” you whispered… A complete lie. “I just wanted an excuse to put my hands on you.” Not a lie…

He stared at you, jaw slack. Drunk words, sober thoughts or something.

Then you pressed your palm to his chest, right over his heart.

“I think I like you more than I should,” you admitted softly again already forgetting your prior confession.

His hand found yours, warm and steady.

“And I think I’ve been waiting for you to feel that way for a long time.”

You blinked, actually sobering just a little as his words sunk in. A blush crept up your neck.

Then Alexei who’s now wide awake on round 7, shouted something unintelligible about vodka and fell into a hedge.

Bob sighed again, this time fondly.

“Come on, handsy,” he whispered, helping you up. “Let’s get you out of here before Alexei find you.”

You leaned into him as the lights of the city glittered below, your heels clicking softly on the marble. And as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you gently into his side, you let your hand slide across his chest again.

Bob helped you into a waiting car a little later, after you’d danced with his tie around your head and tried to convince Bucky and Ava who had caught a ride with you guys, that you could beat both of them in arm wrestling. Bob sat beside you the whole ride back, one hand gently holding yours as you leaned on his shoulder, humming off-key.

By the time he walked you to your room, you were barely awake.

He helped you sit, brought you more water, wiped the glitter from your cheeks with a warm towel. You watched him through bleary eyes, heart thudding too fast for how exhausted you were.

“Don’t go,” you mumbled, grabbing his wrist before he could pull away.

His brow furrowed. “I should. You need to sleep.”

“I sleep better when I know you’re close.”

Bob hesitated. Then sat on the edge of the bed, still fully dressed, hands neatly folded.

You scooted toward him clumsily, curling into his side.

“You’re a good man,” you murmured. “Even if you don’t believe it.”

Bob swallowed hard. “You’re drunk.”

He looked down at you lashes low, curls golden in the dim light and for a second, it felt like the world was still.

“I’m gonna tell you all this again,” you whispered,. “When I’m sober. So you believe me.”

Bob smiled softly, brushing a hand through your hair.

⸻

One week later.

Valentina didn’t waste time not when she had agents to deploy and secrets to keep. She stood at the head of the briefing room with her arms crossed, voice clipped and commanding.

“You’ll be embedded deep. Minimal communications. Four weeks, maybe five. You know the drill.”

No explanation. No context. Just coordinates, code words, and a vague nod toward danger.

You nodded once, steady and composed. “When do I leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

That was it. No sugar coating. No safety nets. No goodbyes.

Just logistics… and the dull ache in Bob’s chest as he stood by the door, silent and still, watching you take the news like a soldier.

It wasn’t your first mission. Wouldn’t be your last. You were good at this hell, you were better than good. But that didn’t make it easier to watch you go.

Especially now.

Not after last week.

⸻

That night, Yelena hosted.

It was her version of a send off. The living room of the Thunderbolts’ tower had been transformed into a mess of mismatched blankets, greasy pizza boxes, and horror movies from the ’80s that were more comedic than scary.

Ava was curled up in an armchair, a rare smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Bucky and John were in a ridiculous standoff over whose popcorn seasoning was the superior blend, Bucky’s Cajun mix versus John’s “proprietary” cinnamon-butter recipe. Alexei had, inexplicably, brought an entire suitcase of vodka “for emergencies.”

And you?

You were radiant.

You always were before a mission. That pre mission energy pulsed off you in waves of confidence sharpened into a kind of glow, like lightning trapped in a bottle. You cracked jokes too fast, leaned into the mood like it grounded you. Your laugh echoed louder, your eyes sparkled with mischief.

Bob hated it.

He hated it because it reminded him that soon, you’d be gone.

He sat on the edge of the couch, trying to act normal while you dropped onto the beanbag next to him, giggling at something Yelena had said about a haunted vending machine. You bumped his knee lightly with yours. He barely looked at you.

He was stretched thin, like a rubber band one pull away from snapping. Because all week, he’d replayed your drunk confession on a loop, your breath warm against his neck, the way your hand had pressed flat over his chest, how you’d slurred out that you liked him more than you should.

And then, the next day, you’d forgotten.

“I got so drunk,” you’d said with a sleepy laugh, sipping your coffee like it was a lifeline. “Sorry if I said anything weird.”

He’d smiled.

Lied.

Said, “Nothing weird.”

He’d swallowed it like poison.

⸻

So that night, for the first time in a hot minute, Bob accepted a shot of tequila.

Then another.

Then three more.

⸻

Half an hour later, he was drunk.

Not tipsy. Not warm and relaxed.

Sloshed.

He was flushed pink, laughing too loud, talking too fast, and struggling to open a bag of chips like it was a bomb he had to defuse. He kept tearing the corner wrong and then getting confused why chips were flying everywhere.

Yelena squinted suspiciously. “Did you spike his water?”

Ava shook her head slowly, sipping her beer. “Nope. That’s all him.”

Alexei bellowed a laugh. “I love drunk Bob. He is like crazy man you see on street!”

John leaned over, trying to keep a straight face. “Hey, buddy. You good?”

Bob blinked slowly, eyes glassy, then raised a shaky finger across the room and pointed… directly at you.

“She’s leaving,” he announced, mournful as a funeral bell. “Tomorrow. Or… or the day after. Or the… second tomorrow.”

Everyone froze.

The movie kept playing. But nobody was watching anymore.

Bucky let out a long, low breath. “Ah. There it is.”

Yelena covered her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking from a suppressed laugh.

You looked stunned. Concern flickered across your features as you stood and crossed the room, kneeling in front of Bob.

“Hey,” you said gently. “Bob, are you okay?”

He looked at you like you’d just asked him if the sun existed. Like you couldn’t possibly understand the storm unraveling inside him.

“I miss you already,” he said, his voice cracking. “And you’re not even gone yet.”

You blinked.

Your expression softened instantly. “Bob…”

“I don’t want to miss you,” he said, almost childlike. “I want to stay in the room. When you’re in the room. Always.”

Something splintered in your chest.

He wasn’t done.

“You don’t remember,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “That night at the promo thing. You said you liked me.”

Your brows furrowed. “What—?”

“You were drunk,” he continued, eyes wide and wounded. “Said I smelled good. Said my arms were big. Said you liked me more than you should. Said you loved me.”

You froze.

“I’ve been holding onto that,” Bob said, his voice breaking like glass. “Like a f*cking idiot. Thinking maybe it meant something. But you didn’t even remember.”

The room was dead silent.

No one laughed.

Not even Alexei.

You stared at Bob, at his bloodshot eyes, the way he sat hunched over like his confession physically hurt him. He looked like a man unmasked. No bravado. No power. Just raw, trembling truth.

“I’m in love with you.” he said softly.

And then?

He groaned, flopped face down on the couch, and mumbled into the cushions passing out

⸻

An hour passed.

Yelena switched the movie. Jenga towers collapsed. Alexei tried to start a drinking song that Ava promptly shut down.

But you didn’t move.

You sat beside Bob’s sleeping form, his body curled in a loose crescent against your side. He looked younger like this, soft and peaceful. His messy hair fell into his eyes. He smelled like warm laundry.

Without thinking, you reached over and gently brushed the hair from his forehead.

And something in you ached.

You hadn’t remembered that night.

But now you did.

And it meant everything.

⸻

The Next Morning

Bob woke up with a thunderstorm behind his eyes.

His skull felt like it had been jackhammered. His throat was dry. And the taste in his mouth could only be described as salty

He sat up slowly, wincing at the daylight.

And then he saw it.

A glass of water. A packet of painkillers. And a note in your handwriting, folded clean and left on the coffee table.

He blinked, opened it with trembling fingers.

You were a total mess.

I took at least three videos for blackmail.

Also, you were right. I did say those things at the party.

I meant them. Even if I don’t remember every word.

Talk before I leave?

—Y/N

His heart tripped over itself.

And then the door creaked open.

You stepped inside, ready to go. Hoodie zipped, backpack over one shoulder, hair tied in a high knot. Your eyes flicked to him, uncertain, hopeful, vulnerable in a way you rarely let yourself be.

“So,” you said softly, stepping closer, “about that talk?”

Bob stood slowly. He ran a hand over his face, unsure if this was a dream or just a hangover hallucination.

“I’m really sorry if I—”

“I meant it,” you cut in, voice firm. “Everything I said that night. I didn’t remember at first, but… even if I had, I was scared. Scared it would ruin what we have. Scared it would make things complicated.”

You took a shaky breath.

“But I think not saying anything? That’s worse.”

Bob stared at you, eyes wide and clear for the first time in days.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you added quickly, nerves bleeding through. “I just couldn’t leave without—”

“I love you,” he blurted.

You blinked.

A slow, stunned smile curved your lips.

“Even hungover?” you teased, voice lighter.

Bob laughed, quiet, sheepish. “Especially hungover.”

You stepped into him, closing the space. Your forehead pressed against his, breath shared between parted lips.

“I love you too, I promise I’ll come back soon.” you whispered.

“You better,” he murmured, cupping your cheek and pressing the gentlest kiss on your lips like a promise.

“I’m not drinking again till you do.”

“Deal.”

⸻

A/N: Guys was this boring I can’t tell I need ideas on what to write, please give me prompts in my in box!

[cutehoons02]

Leather jackets

*pairing: frat gym rat boy Jay x book girl

*trope: sunshine boy x shy girl

*synopsis: What would happen if you were lying to read a slightly "spicy" book and not fit to read in the university library, Jay Park as well as one of the most popular guys at the university find out that you are not so innocent as you want to make believe? between betting, books with jokes cliche, stolen kisses, gym sessions with Jay what could happen to the book girl and gym rat boy of the university?

*tags: Lots of fun, they love to tease each other, the protagonist is slightly shy and a little insecure about her physique, fake innocent girl, needy Jay, touchy Jay, green flag boy, reading books spicy (Twisted Games, The spanish Love And Deception) virgin reader, protected sex,masturbation, fingering, pacifiers, pet names (bookgirl,princess,sweatheart)

14k (🤎)

💌The request and ideas were written by @m3wkledreamy for this story (thanks a lot for your help)

(English is not my native language)

You had just finished writing the draft of your essay for Contemporary Literature and Media. You had spent hours trying to piece together a coherent analysis of how Romanticism had evolved in modern novels, and your brain was now frying. You deserved a break.

Without thinking twice, you pulled Twisted Games out of your bag. Just one chapter was enough to make you escape from the reality of assignments, notes, and presentations. You curled up in the most secluded armchair in the library and began reading, immediately immersing yourself in the forbidden world of Bridget and Rhys.

"You know you shouldn't provoke me, Princess," Rhys growled, his deep voice rough against her skin.

Bridget felt a shiver down her spine, but she didn’t move. "What if I want to provoke you?"

Rhys's eyes darkened, his hand tightening around her waist, and in the blink of an eye, his lips fused with hers. The kiss was everything she had wanted and feared: burning, possessive, unforgettable...

"Burning, possessive, unforgettable, huh?"

A deep, amused male voice suddenly echoed above you.

Your heart skipped a beat, and with fear in your eyes, you spun around quickly.

There, standing next to you with a book in one hand and headphones around his neck, was Jay Park. The Jay Park. The one every girl at school sighed over while he ran a hand through his messy hair after a workout. He was the one who always had that smug grin on his lips. The one who, for some reason, was now looking at you with an amused expression.

"...What the hell are you doing?" you stammered, snapping the book shut as if it were radioactive.

Jay shrugged casually, sitting down on the armchair next to yours. Too close.

"I needed a quiet spot to read," he said, giving you a sly look. "But then I saw you... and, well, I couldn’t resist."

You clenched the book in your hands, your face burning. "Resist what, exactly?"

Jay crossed his arms behind his head, relaxed as if you were just two friends chatting normally. "A book girl so absorbed in her reading that she doesn’t even notice a guy like me right behind her."

She swallowed hard. He had been behind me the whole time?!

"You weren’t... reading out loud, were you?" you asked, a slight note of panic in your voice.

Jay bit his lip as if trying to hold back a laugh. "No, but with a scene like that, I didn’t need to. The blush on your face says it all."

You shot him a glare. "I’m not blushing."

Jay leaned forward, resting his elbow on the armrest of your chair, so close you could smell his aftershave. "No? Strange, because you look about to explode."

You cleared your throat, desperately trying to regain some dignity. "And since when does the gym rat boy care about books?"

Jay raised an eyebrow, the grin widening. "Gym rat boy? Now you’re giving me nicknames?"

"Call it poetic justice," you retorted, crossing your arms to give yourself a bit of confidence. "Since you like to tease people so much."

Jay stared at you for a moment, as if studying you, then shook his head with a satisfied smirk. "You know, you're more fun than I thought." You felt even more embarrassed. You weren’t sure if you should take it as a compliment or a mockery. Jay set the book he had in his hand on the table—a large volume on business management and international tourism. "Anyway, for your information, I do read. Just… more useful stuff." You glanced at the title and wrinkled your nose. "Bleh. Sounds boring." "And you? Do you get slapped by sexy bodyguards and rebel princesses?" You stiffened. "N-Not like that!" Jay laughed, clearly amused by your reaction. Then, as if he had an idea, he looked at you with mischievous, sparkling eyes. "How about a bet, book girl?" You blinked. "A bet?" He nodded, crossing his arms. "You come to the gym with me and do a workout without complaining, no sighing, no running away. I'll read an entire romance novel… the one you pick." You stared at him incredulously. "An entire book?" Jay made a vague gesture with his hand. "Sure. I'm a man of my word." Then he leaned closer to you, his voice low and provocative. "But be warned, if you lose… you'll have to come to the gym with me all week." You felt a shiver run down your spine. Why did it always feel like Jay Park was playing with fire? You eyed him suspiciously. "And if I win and manage to finish the workout?" Jay grinned like a cat that just caught a mouse. "Then I'll read an entire romance novel… and I’ll have to discuss it with you or watch a movie you love, I bet those 2000s romcoms." You stared at him, torn. On one hand, you knew you had no chance of surviving a workout with him. On the other, the idea of actually seeing him read a romantic book and suffer through the cheesy scenes was just too tempting to pass up. In the end, you sighed. "Deal." Jay extended his hand. "Handshake to seal the deal?" You hesitated for a second, then shook it. Mistake. His grip was firm and warm, and the intensity with which he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. Damn it, why was he so good at making you feel embarrassed? Jay squeezed your hand slightly before letting go, the victorious grin still on his lips. "Get ready, book girl. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into."

Three days.

Three days had passed since Jay Park had caught you reading Twisted Games and proposed a ridiculous bet.

Now, sitting exactly in the same corner of the library, you were drumming your fingers on the table, uncertain about what to hope for.

What if he didn’t show up?

That would be a relief. Her, at the gym? Come on. Just the thought of being surrounded by all those athletic guys, with their sculpted abs and ridiculously heavy weights, made her anxious. You weren’t that type of girl. The curves you had always made you feel out of place, too aware of every outfit that clung to her.

You had to admit it: you were insecure.

And Jay... well, Jay Park was the type of guy who seemed born for the gym.

Maybe he’d forgotten. Maybe it was just a joke.

"I missed you, book girl."

There, standing next to you, was Jay Park.

Damn.

His hair was soft and slightly messy as if he’d just run a hand through the dark strands. He wore a gray sweater that fit perfectly over his broad shoulders and a pair of dress pants that contrasted with his usual sporty vibe. Casual, but damn attractive.

She immediately looked down, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.

"I thought you had forgotten..." you mumbled, trying to sound indifferent.

Jay casually sat across from you placing his phone and a water bottle on the table. "Forget? Not at all. I came to get my book."

"So... are you really going to read it?"

Jay leaned back in his chair with a mischievous smile. "Well, let’s just say I’m curious to see what’s so special about your book boyfriends."

You stared at him for a moment, then, with a deep breath, pulled a book from your bag and handed it to him.

"The Spanish Love and Deception."

Jay took it and looked at the cover. Slowly, he raised an eyebrow and glanced back at her with an amused expression.

"Colleagues, tension, forbidden attraction..." he murmured, flipping through a few pages. Then he looked at her with sparkling curiosity. "So, tell me... is Aaron your type?"

You stiffened, surprised by the question. "W-What?"

Jay leaned forward slightly, his voice low. "Aaron," he repeated, emphasizing the name. "Is he your perfect book boyfriend?"

You lowered your gaze, biting your lip. You didn’t want to admit it out loud, but yes… Aaron was exactly the kind of guy who made your heart beat faster. Sarcastic, charming, protective, but with a heart of gold.

"...Maybe," you whispered softly.

Jay smiled, amused. "Maybe? You don’t seem convinced."

You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore the way he was studying you. "It’s just... well, he’s the classic guy who knows what to say, how to treat a girl. He’s affectionate, but not suffocating. And romantic."

Jay nodded as if analyzing every word. "I see." He ran a hand through his hair and smirked. "So, you like romantic guys, huh?"

You felt your face heat up. "I-I didn’t say that..."

Jay chuckled softly. "Oh no, you did." He flipped through a few more pages, then looked up at her. "I wonder if Aaron would be man enough to handle a workout session with me."

You stared at him, confused. "What?"

Jay closed the book with a slight thud and leaned in even closer, his voice low and provocative.

"Tomorrow. 4 p.m. Gym."

You felt your breath catch. "T-Tomorrow?"

Jay nodded with a satisfied smile. "Just reminding you, the bet applies to both of us, princess. I’ll read your book..." he paused, his gaze flashing with pure mischief, "and you come with me to work out."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"But..." you desperately searched for an excuse, anything to get her out of this nightmare. "What if I’m not up for it?"

Jay stood up, sliding the book through his hands. "Oh, you’ll be up for it. It’ll be fun." He moved a little closer, leaning slightly toward her. "Who knows… maybe Aaron would even join you."

You shot him a death glare, but he chuckled, shaking his head.

"See you tomorrow, book girl."

And with that satisfied smirk, Jay Park walked away, leaving you completely in a panic.

16:00 – University Gym Lobby

You felt completely out of place. The gym was huge, with mirrors along every wall, rows of exercise machines, and athletic guys and girls lifting weights as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Not your scene.

You pulled your oversized shirt tighter around you, lowering your gaze to your black, form-fitting leggings. At least those made you feel a bit more comfortable; they made your legs look longer and leaner. But the rest of your body? No, thanks. Better to hide.

You fixed your high ponytail and took a deep breath. Come on, you could do this. It was just a bet.

Then you saw him, and you immediately regretted coming. Jay was whistling near the equipment, completely at ease, wearing an absurd tank top that hugged his sculpted physique.

Oh. My. God.

It was worse than you’d imagined. Much, much worse.

His biceps seemed to beg to be touched. His shoulders were wide and strong, but not excessive. And then there were the veins on his arms... those damned veins that stood out perfectly against his golden skin.

And his hands. Oh my god, his hands.

In your books, you’d read hundreds of descriptions of buff guys, but none of those words had prepared you for this. Jay Park didn’t look like he came out of a romance novel. He was the romance.

You felt yourself blush fiercely and desperately tried to look away, but it was too late.

Jay had seen you, and his smirk widened dangerously.

“Book girl.”

His deep voice made you flinch. Jay approached with his usual relaxed stride, holding a folded piece of paper in his hands. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, lingering for a moment on your loose shirt before moving back up to your face.

You bit the inside of your cheek, already knowing what was about to happen.

Jay tilted his head, amused. “Where are your book boyfriends? I was expecting you to have one of them by your side.”

You turned your gaze away, crossing your arms over your chest. “W-Who says they’re not here?”

Jay chuckled softly. “Sweetheart, if Aaron were here, he’d already be working out with me.” He ran a hand through his hair and got even closer until you could smell his masculine cologne.

Damn. He smelled too good.

You stiffened, but he seemed to be enjoying the situation.

“Anyway,” he continued, unfolding the paper in his hands, “here’s your workout plan. I made it myself.”

You stared at him suspiciously. “Should I be worried?”

Jay smiled. “Oh.” Then he leaned in slightly toward you, lowering his voice. “I hope you’re ready to sweat, princess.”

“Lower, book girl.”

You froze instantly, your face was already flushed from stretching, but now it was on fire. You slowly turned toward Jay, who was looking at you with a satisfied smirk.

“E-Excuse me?” you stammered, gripping your knees to keep your balance.

Jay stood next to you, crossing his arms over his chest. “You need to lean more. You’re not stretching the muscles properly.” Then, with almost provocative slowness, he bent down, demonstrating the correct movement. And damn, did he do it well.

His muscles contracted perfectly under the tank top, and you had to concentrate hard not to stare for too long.

Jay glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “What’s wrong? Are you distracted?”

You quickly composed yourself. “No! I’m just...” You took a deep breath and tried to bend further down, ignoring the way Jay was watching you with amusement.

“Better?”

Jay nodded but then tilted his head with a mischievous look. “Yeah… though you could still go a little lower.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

Jay raised his hands innocently. “Not. I just want you to train well. You know, maybe Aaron in your books doesn’t need stretching, but here in the real world...”

You huffed, trying to ignore the quickening beat of your heart. “You’re insufferable.”

Jay chuckled. “Thanks, I know.”

TREADMILL – 20 MINUTES OF TORTURE

“Are you sure you can handle it, book girl?”

You shot Jay a glare as he, with absurd ease, ran on the treadmill next to you without a hint of exhaustion.

You, on the other hand, were already cursing every life choice you’d made.

“I’m fine.” You tried to sound natural, slightly increasing the speed. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you collapse.

Jay raised an eyebrow, amused. “Really? Because it looks like you're starting to sweat.”

You clenched your jaw and pushed yourself even harder, refusing to give up. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you surrender.

For a full twenty minutes, you kept the pace, even though your legs burned and your breath got shorter and shorter. When the timer finally stopped, you slowed to a walk and stepped off the machine with shaky legs.

Jay followed you, still completely relaxed, not a drop of sweat on him. Unfair.

“Wow,” he said, walking closer, “I didn’t think you’d last this long.”

You let out a slight gasp, trying to catch your breath. “I told you I wasn’t giving up.”

Jay looked at you with a mischievous smile, then reached out and brushed your face lightly.

You froze. “W-What are you doing?”

Jay gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You had a piece of hair out of place.”

The light touch of his skin against yours sent shivers down your spine. He was too close. Too damn close.

Jay tilted his head, studying your face. “Hey, you’re all red.”

You pulled back sharply, embarrassed. “It’s from the effort, okay?”

Jay chuckled, hands on his hips. “Are you sure? Because it looks like you’re embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed!”

He laughed again, that gym rat satisfaction in his expression. Then he clapped his hands and gestured toward an area of the gym with a nod of his head.

“Alright, princess. Now we move on to legs.”

You stared at him wide-eyed. “What?!”

Jay winked at you. “I promise this will be the most fun part.”

Jay led you to one of the machines and pointed to the seat. “Come on, book girl, sit here.” You hesitated, eyeing the infernal machine Jay was making you sit on.

“Now you have to push your legs out,” he explained, squatting beside you, running his hand along the selected weight. “It helps tone and strengthen your muscles.”

You nodded absentmindedly until your eyes landed on the number displayed. 30 kg.

Thirty. Kilograms.

You stared at it in disbelief. “Are you insane?”

Jay laughed under his breath. “No, you’re just out of shape.” He stood up with a smooth motion, cracking his shoulders. “I do it with 80, so consider yourself lucky.”

You rolled your eyes and adjusted yourself on the seat, positioning your legs against the pads. “Thirty times?” you asked, hoping for some form of mercy.

Jay leaned against the machine, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thirty times.” Then he winked. “If you want, you can stop early, but only if you admit I’m stronger than you.”

You clenched your jaw. “Forget it.”

You inhaled deeply and pushed with all your strength. The weight wasn’t impossible, but it still required a lot of effort. After the first ten reps, your muscles start to burn.

Jay was watching you intently. His expression had changed now. He wasn’t just teasing you… he was watching.

The way your legs moved around the machine, the skin stretched tight under the leggings. How the loose shirt had just risen slightly, revealing a hint of your slightly tanned belly. And then there was the way your chest moved ever so slightly with each push. Jay tilted his head, watching you with slightly narrowed eyes. A full third? Or maybe a fourth? The thought hit him suddenly, and his gaze briefly dropped to your lips. They were a bit fuller than usual… What would it be like to kiss them? You were beautiful, and it was strange that in all the months he had seen you in the halls or at school, you were never walking arm in arm-with a guy. A part of him was glad you didn’t have a boyfriend because deep down, he was starting to be interested in you…

A sudden snap of fingers in front of his eyes brought him back to reality. Jay blinked, bringing his gaze back to you, who was watching him suspiciously. "Hey," you said, a bit hesitant, "are you still with us, or do you need a moment?" Jay cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow slightly to hide the fact that he had been lost in his thoughts. "I was just checking your form." You curled your lips into a grimace. You didn’t seem convinced. You ran a hand over your shirt and pulled it down slightly, lowering your gaze. Jay noticed the movement and your eyes dropping, almost insecure about the small piece of exposed belly. "I'm done," you murmured, avoiding eye contact. For some strange reason, Jay didn’t feel as amused anymore and nodded.

Jay positioned himself in front of you with a relaxed expression, placing his feet shoulder-width apart. "Watch closely, book girl," he said, slowly lowering himself into a perfect squat. "Back straight, weight on your heels… and then you come back up." You nodded, trying to focus on his words and not on how his black tank top stretched over his broad shoulders as he moved. Damn, Jay and his gym rat body. You were about to attempt replicating the movement when a shrill voice interrupted the moment. -Jay! What a surprise to see you here!- You looked up and found yourself facing a cheerleader in uniform. Tall, slim, confident. Perfect. The girl approached with a dazzling smile, positioning herself next to Jay with a self-assurance you could never have. -I always see you training with the guys, but today you've got company?- Her gaze briefly rested on you, almost distractedly, before it went back to Jay. You pulled your oversized shirt tighter, feeling the insidious weight of insecurity settle over you. It was silly to feel this way. But the way the girl’s uniform perfectly hugged her body, showing it off without a hint of hesitation… it was everything you weren’t. You lowered your gaze, taking a deep breath to push those thoughts away, focusing on your feet to avoid looking at the scene before you. Then you felt a light pinch at your side. "Hey!" You jolted, spinning around. Jay was looking at you with an amused grin. "What are you doing, getting distracted?" he asked, leaning slightly toward you. You shot him a glare, and he moved back slightly. "Don’t do that again." Jay raised an eyebrow. "Why? It’s fun watching you jump." "Because I don’t want to be touched." For a moment, Jay looked at you without saying anything. His smile faded slightly, and his gaze became more serious. Then he nodded. "Okay." His voice no longer held the usual lightness. He seemed sincere. With a nod of his chin, he signaled for you to get into position.

"Now, let’s see how you handle the squats." You focused on the movement, trying to ignore the fact that Jay was watching closely as you lowered and rose. Twenty-five regular squats. Twenty-five with a jump. By the end, your legs were on fire, and you were out of breath. Jay reached for a bottle and handed it to you. "Water and magnesium. You need it to recover." You took the bottle and drank a few sips, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat. "Thanks." Jay watched you for a moment, then crossed his arms with a satisfied grin. "I’ll admit it, I didn’t think you’d make it." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." Jay laughed, then added with a tone that was slightly too pleased: "But you know what this means, right?" You looked at him, confused. "What?" Jay stepped a bit closer. "I lost the bet." His lips curled into a mischievous smile. "So, in addition to reading me that romance book, we also have to watch a movie together." You stood there, speechless. "Wait… what?!" Jay shrugged. "You did the whole workout, so I have to keep my end of the bet. But you don’t think I’m getting away with just a book, do you?" He leaned slightly toward you, lowering his voice. "You’ll have to pick a romantic movie and force me to watch it." You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile. Okay, maybe this workout hadn’t been torture after all.

Your phone vibrated for the umpteenth time while you were sitting at your desk, trying to focus on studying. The screen lit up with a new message. 📩 Jay: "So, book girl, Aron just pushed the heroine against the wall and whispered in her ear that he would never stop wanting her. Is this guy always like this or does he get even better?"

📩 Jay: "Because I have a feeling you gave me the book with the most tension and bickering in your entire collection?"

📩 Jay: "Anyway, update. I’m halfway through. When I win the bet, I demand the shortest movie possible."

You laughed to yourself, biting your lip as you read his messages. So he was reading it. You had to admit that it pleased you a little that Jay was so involved, even though he would never openly admit it. But you hadn’t seen him in over a week. The baseball team was busy with away games, and the most contact you had with him were those messages where he teased you or updated you on the hottest moments of the book. And then, that evening… The door to your room suddenly swung open, and Giselle stormed in like a hurricane. "Y/N, stop whatever you’re doing right now!" she announced excitedly, grabbing your hands and pulling you up. You looked at her confused. "What—?" "The basketball team and the baseball team won their games!" she said with a satisfied smile. "You know what that means, right?" You squinted your eyes, suspicious. "That we can go do karaoke and eat fried chicken to celebrate?" "No." Giselle stared at you seriously. "It means there’s a huge party at a fraternity, and we’re going." You blinked. "Wait, what?" Giselle ignored your protest and made a beeline for your wardrobe, rummaging through your clothes without an ounce of shame. After a few seconds, she pulled out your nightmare dress. A tight black cocktail dress with tiny sequins and a slight sweetheart neckline. Your worst enemy. "No, absolutely not." You quickly shook your head. "There’s no way I’m wearing that." "Y/N…" Giselle looked at you with her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. "It’ll look amazing on you." You crossed your arms over your chest, stubborn. "That’s not the point." "So what’s the point, then?" You bit your lip, looking away. "…That Jay might be there." A sly smile spread across Giselle’s lips. "Ohhh, so that’s why you don’t want to wear it." "It has nothing to do with Jay," you lied shamelessly. Giselle sighed, then grabbed your wrists and started dragging you toward the bed. "No, listen, you’re going to the party, and you’re going to wear this dress. And if Jay is there, even better. It’s time to stop hiding under layers of baggy clothes." "Did you just insult my aesthetic?" you asked, feigning offense. "I’m saying you’re hot, and you need to start acting like it." Despite your protests, after two hours of getting ready and many threats from Giselle, you found yourself inside a crowded fraternity house, wearing the nightmare dress and holding a drink. And, of course, with your heart pounding at the thought of who you might run into inside.

The music echoed in the air, the bass vibrating through the walls of the fraternity house, and the smell of alcohol mixed with sweet perfumes filled the atmosphere. Giselle had dragged you all around the house, giving you a full tour as if she were a tour guide. "And this," she said, pointing to the kitchen transformed into an improvised bar, "is the source of every questionable decision of the night." She handed you a colorful drink that smelled of fruit and alcohol. "Drink, it’ll loosen you up." You looked at the glass with suspicion but took a sip anyway. Sweet, fresh, and deceptive. The kind that makes you forget there’s alcohol in it. A few minutes later, you found yourself outside in the gazebo, where a group of students was playing beer pong amid laughter and cheers. And then… you saw him. Jay. He was casually leaning against a table, a drink in hand, talking lazily with a girl. He almost seemed bored by the conversation, but that didn’t change the fact that he was damn good-looking. He was wearing a slightly unbuttoned black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his forearms and those damn veins you had gotten to know in the gym. And then his hair. A little messy, but in that perfect way that you knew was intentional. Maybe it was your gaze that lingered a little too long because at one point he looked up and caught your eye. And he choked on his drink. Oh. You immediately lowered your eyes, your heart racing, pretending you hadn’t noticed. Maybe it hadn’t been that obvious. "Y/N?" Keeho’s voice made you turn, lifting your gaze. He was one of the guys from your study group, and he was… objectively handsome. Dark, slightly wavy hair, perfect features, and a slightly prominent nose that made him even more attractive. But most of all, he smiled in a way that lit up his whole face. "I didn’t expect to see you here," he said, with a genuine laugh. You lowered your head slightly, already feeling a bit more shy. "Actually, neither did I. It’s all Giselle’s fault." Keeho laughed again. "Well, I’m glad you’re here. That dress looks good on you." You felt the warmth rise to your cheeks. "Oh… thank you."

As you were talking with Keeho, you didn’t notice that Jay had remained still in his corner, the glass still halfway to his mouth, his eyes fixed on the scene in front of him. And he didn’t like it one bit. Seeing you, his book girl, in that black dress that hugged your body… and especially seeing Keeho looking at you that way? No. He didn’t like it at all. So he pushed himself off the table with a barely noticeable sigh and walked toward you, sipping his drink with apparent calm. But inside? It burned. You were still talking to Keeho, who seemed extremely comfortable while making you laugh with some joke. And that smile on your lips, the one Jay usually made you wear when he teased you? Was it now for Keeho? No. That wasn’t right. Jay reached behind you, close enough for you to feel his presence without him touching you yet. "What a sight," he commented with his usual slightly amused voice, but with an undertone that didn’t escape you. "I didn’t know book girls also came to these parties." You stiffened slightly at the sound of his voice, turning toward him. Too close. Too intense. Too… Jay. Keeho raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and him. "See? Even Jay is surprised," he joked, but his tone held a slight challenge.

Jay smiled, but it wasn’t his usual smile. It was something more dangerous. "Oh, I am." His eyes lowered slightly, quickly scanning over you. "Especially since I didn’t expect to see you in… this dress." You felt your heart skip a beat. Keeho laughed, patting your shoulder. "I just told her, it looks amazing on her, right?" Jay gave a small smile, but his eyes stayed on you. "Oh, no doubt about that." The tension in the air became palpable. You were there, caught between Keeho's relaxed confidence and Jay’s burning gaze, which seemed amused, irritated, and intrigued all at once. And just when you were about to say something, Jay lowered his drink and leaned slightly toward you. "So, Y/N… shall we play beer pong? Or are you afraid of losing your first bet to me?" Your breath caught in your throat. Oh, damn. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore how your heart was racing. Yes, you weren’t great at beer pong. Yes, you’d probably lose. But the urge to challenge Jay was too strong. "Are you afraid of losing, Park?" you said with a smirk, crossing your arms. Jay started laughing, shaking his head. "Me? With you? Book girl, don’t make me laugh." Keeho stepped between you two, throwing you a concerned look. "Y/N, we all know you can’t handle much alcohol. Maybe I should play for you." You scoffed, making a face. "It’s just small sips, I won’t die." Even though, inside, you were slightly terrified by the idea. Jay shook his head with that usual challenging smile of his. "Fine, but what are we betting?" You pouted, staring at him intently. "If I win, you have to watch an entire romantic movie with me. One of my favorites." Jay raised an eyebrow, amused. "You want to force me to watch one of those movies where the protagonist has a sudden transformation and ends up becoming the perfect guy?" "Exactly," you said proudly. "Because even a frat boy has a heart of gold deep down." He laughed, shaking his head. "That’s never going to happen, but alright." Then he suddenly became more serious, and with one step, he moved closer to you. Too close. You could smell his scent – a light aftershave mixed with the warmth of his skin – and your heart leaped into your throat. "And if I win?" he asked in a low voice, his gaze locked on you. You swallowed nervously. "W-what do you want?" Jay tilted his head to the side, studying you closely. Then he let his gaze slide down to your lips, lingering for just a second before answering. "I want a kiss." Your breath stopped. He smiled softly, that cheeky grin that drove you crazy. "But not just any kiss," he continued, lowering his voice, and you felt your stomach flip. Had he lost his mind? "What?!" you whispered, eyes wide. Jay took a step back with a chuckle. "What’s wrong, book girl? Afraid to lose?" You clenched your fists, your face burning. Damn Park Jongseong. "Get ready to watch a whole night of rom-coms," you said in a fake confident tone, even though inside, you were a mess. Jay lifted his drink with a satisfied smirk. "We’ll see."

Jay looked at you with a satisfied smile as you took another sip of your drink. You had already missed five shots, and at this point, half of your drink was already gone. When you lifted the glass to drink again, Jay stopped you, gently grabbing your wrist. "Okay, that’s enough," he said, shaking his head. "I don’t want to have to carry you out of here rolling." You nodded slowly, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread across your cheeks. Then you sighed, glancing at the untouched glasses still on the table. "I screwed this up…" you murmured, looking down. Jay stepped closer, lowering his face near yours. "Nah. You just lost badly." You raised your eyes, glaring at him, but he just smiled. "But the fun part," he continued, tilting his head, "is that with your little screw-up, I just won a free kiss." Your heart skipped a beat. You blinked, trying to process what he had just said. "Wait, what?" Jay smiled even more as if he was enjoying every second of your reaction. "You lost, right? And we made a bet. So…" He paused, letting the meaning of his words sink slowly into your head. You felt your face flush. "You’re impossible." He laughed softly. "And you’re drunk." You puffed out your cheeks. "I’m not drunk." Jay gave you a skeptical look. "Yeah. And I’m a book boy." You crossed your arms, trying to keep the little dignity you had left. He shook his head, amused, then put his hand in his jeans pocket. "Should I drive you home?" he asked, his tone softer this time. You hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay." Jay smiled, as if he had already predicted your answer, and gestured for you to follow him. The cool evening air made you shiver slightly as you walked beside Jay. He led you to the parking lot, and when you saw his car, you almost lost your balance. A Mercedes and not just any Mercedes. One of those that probably cost more than all the rent for your student room put together.

You whistled softly, impressed. "Okay… this is the moment I realize you’re really rich." Jay laughed as he opened the door for you. "Took you this long?" You shrugged, getting in with a bit of hesitation. When you sat down, you immediately felt the fabric of your dress ride up slightly on your thighs. Instinctively, you tried to pull it down to cover yourself more. Meanwhile, Jay got in on the driver’s side and started the car but noticed your movement. Then you heard yourself mumbling something under your breath. "I should never wear stuff like this…" Jay took his eyes off the road and glanced at you sideways, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "What?" You quickly shook your head, immediately regretting speaking aloud. "Nothing, never mind." But Jay didn’t let it go. He turned off the engine for a second and completely turned toward you, his dark eyes fixed on yours. "Say it again," he said, his voice slightly lower. You felt a lump form in your throat. "It’s nothing." Jay clenched his jaw. "You said you shouldn’t wear things like this. Why?" You lowered your gaze, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "Because… they don’t look good on me." The silence that followed was heavy. Jay ran a hand through his hair, taking a second before responding. When he spoke again, his tone had changed. "Book girl," he said, and this time there was no malice in his voice. Just frustration. "Who the hell put this nonsense in your head?" He stared straight into your eyes, his voice lower and more intense. "That dress looks amazing on you. And anyone who ever made you think otherwise is an idiot." You swallowed, feeling your face burn. "Jay…" He tilted his head, studying you. Then he smiled slightly, but this time, there was more than just malice in his eyes. There was something else. "You should wear them more often, especially when I’m around!" You puffed out your cheeks, trying to ignore the warmth that had flooded your body. "Stop teasing me, Jay." He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned slightly toward you, getting closer and closer. You shifted against the seat, trying to create more distance between you, but he seemed determined to not let you escape.

His scent – a mix of musk, sandalwood, and something slightly sweet – enveloped you, making your head spin even more than the alcohol already had. "Can I touch you?" he asked suddenly, his voice lower, almost a whisper. You looked up at him, surprised. Jay tilted his head slightly. "At the gym, you told me you didn’t want to be touched. I don’t want to do it if you don’t want me to." Your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t know how to respond. Or rather, you did, but admitting it out loud was a whole different story. You nodded slowly. Jay bit the inside of his cheek, as if trying to hold back a smile, then smoothly took off his leather jacket and placed it over your bare thighs. "Is this better?" You looked down at the jacket, then nodded again. "Yes…" Jay leaned in even more, this time with more confidence, and his hand slowly traveled up to your cheek. His fingers were warm, a pleasant contrast against your skin. You held your breath when his thumb slowly traced the outline of your face, sliding down until it reached the edge of your lips. He brushed them with his fingertip as if memorizing their shape. Then, with a whisper, almost to himself, he muttered: "Fuck, you’re beautiful." And pressed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t hesitant. It was hungry, and confident, like it was something he had wanted to do for a long time. Jay’s lips were incredibly soft, and they tasted of expensive liquor with a slightly smoky note. Yours, on the other hand, were sweet, infused with the fruity drink you had had at the party. It felt like you were sinking into the warmth of the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a confidence that made your head spin. You felt his breath mixing with yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours as he tilted his head slightly to kiss you better. Instinctively, your hands rested on his chest, feeling the fabric of his shirt cling to the muscles underneath. It was warm, solid, so real that you almost had to hold your breath. Jay smiled against your lips as if your touch amused him. He pulled back for a second, looking at you with those dark eyes that seemed to study every reaction you had. You were blushing, and you knew it. You could feel the heat on your cheeks, the frantic beat of your heart. "It’s the alcohol," you whispered, almost to justify yourself. Jay didn’t answer. Instead, without a second thought, he placed a confident hand on your hip and, with a decisive movement, pulled you back against him.

This time, the kiss was different. Deeper, slower. His lips brushed against yours with overwhelming intensity, leaving you breathless as his tongue gently slid between your lips, exploring you with a languor that made your knees tremble. A sound escaped involuntarily from your throat—a nearly imperceptible moan, but enough for Jay to notice. He smiled against the kiss, his hand on your hip tightening slightly as his fingers traced small circles on the thin fabric of your dress. "You’re dangerous, book girl," he murmured against your lips, his voice hoarse and slightly amused. "You’re becoming a drug." Those words sent a shiver through you, a wave of heat traveling from your head to your toes. With a shy gesture, you let your arms slide around his neck, your fingers sinking into his dark hair. You ruffled it slightly, curious about how soft it was. "Oh my god, Jay," you whispered, more to yourself than to him. "Your hair is… so soft." Jay chuckled softly, not breaking away from you. "What, did you think I had straw on my head?" You buried your face against his shoulder, embarrassed. But he pulled his face away slightly, tilting his head to look at you. And in his gaze, there was something new. Something warm, something that made you want to kiss him again. You stared at his slightly swollen lips from the kisses you had shared, the small bites you had both given each other and while keeping your arms tight around his neck, you asked if you could kiss him again. Jay stared at you for a moment, then chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Do you have to ask?" he whispered, his voice slightly rough, still thick from the kiss you’d just shared. You bit your lip, lowering your gaze just a little. "I just wanted to be polite…" Jay smiled amusedly but didn’t say anything more because this time, you moved first. You lifted yourself slightly toward him and kissed him gently, savoring every shiver his lips sent through you. It was different, more intimate. You let go, taking control of the kiss for the first time. Jay seemed to enjoy it. His fingers continued to play with the fabric of your dress, barely grazing it, as he slowly increased the intensity of the kiss. When he pulled back, he had a smirk on his lips. "So, book girl? You, who’s an expert on literary kisses… what’s my grade?" You laughed softly, your cheeks still warm. "I’d say a solid 8.5." Jay raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "8.5? Are you serious?" He brought his face closer to yours, his pout hovering just a breath away from your lips. "What should I do to get to a 10?" You bit the inside of your cheek, hesitating. You didn’t want to answer, but his gaze was pushing you to. He tilted his head, eyeing you mischievously. "Oh, wait… you’re thinking of something spicy, right?" You immediately shook your head, but the flush creeping up your face betrayed you. Jay laughed, getting even closer. "Come on, tell me. What were you thinking?" You turned your gaze away for a moment, then, in a whisper, you muttered, "Well… I’d need to feel your lips on other parts of my body to see if I can bump your grade…" For a moment, Jay stayed silent. Then he burst into a soft laugh, his chest vibrating against yours. "Wow," he whispered, shaking his head with an incredulous smile. "This isn’t the shy girl I know." You covered your face with your hands, embarrassed. "I didn’t mean to say—" "Shhh," he interrupted a satisfied smile on his face. "I’ll drive you home before you can say anything else that I’ll tease you about tomorrow." You sighed, already knowing he would never let you forget it.

In the days following the kiss, Jay didn’t miss an opportunity to find you in the hallways. Every time he saw you, he’d come up with an excuse to get close—some stupid comment about the book you’d given him, a teasing grin, a hand slipping across your back as he passed by. But his favorite thing? Dragging you into some hidden corner to kiss you without letting you escape. Like that one time in the library, when you were bent over searching for a book on a high shelf and suddenly felt a warm breath behind you. "You should be careful, book girl," Jay murmured, his usual low and amused voice. "You could end up in dangerous situations." Before you could turn around, his hands settled on your hips, gently pulling you back against his chest. He trapped you between the shelf and his body, his lips brushing the side of your neck. "J-Jay…" you tried to protest, but your breath was already shaky. "Mmh?" he responded, feigning innocence as he left small kisses on your skin, slowly moving down. You quickly turned to stop him, but it was a mistake—because as soon as you looked into his eyes, Jay took advantage of your hesitation, grabbed your chin, and kissed you deeply and possessively. "God, you’re a drug," he murmured against your lips before kissing you again, his hands tightening around your waist with more determination. And it wasn’t the only time. In the following days, every hidden corner of the university became your secret refuge. But then, that afternoon, you hadn’t seen him around. It was the sound of your phone that pulled you out of your thoughts. Jay’s name lit up the screen, and the message made your eyes widen: "I finished the book. Looks like you’ll have to spend some time with me at the gym :)" It couldn’t be real. But before you could reply, another message appeared. "Come to my place. Bring a shirt and leggings." Below, is the address of a building you recognized well: a luxury complex in the city center.

An hour later, you were standing in front of what seemed like a private gym on the ground floor of the building. The place oozed exclusivity, and you couldn’t believe Jay lived there. When you greeted him, the first thing you asked was, "Seriously, do you live here?" He shrugged with a cheeky grin. "Being the son of a CEO has its perks." Then, without giving you a chance to respond, he grabbed your wrist and pushed you inside. Jay set himself up at the weight equipment with his usual ease, as if it was his natural habitat. The black tank top clung perfectly to his body, highlighting the muscles in his arms that flexed every time he lifted the barbell. God, Y/n, stop staring. But it wasn’t your fault that every movement of his seemed designed to distract you. "Can you explain to me why I’m here, exactly?" you asked, crossing your arms, trying to maintain some control over the situation. Jay gave a small smile as he continued lifting the weights. "Because I finished the book. And I want to prove to you that I read it. Feel free to ask questions." Frowning, you tried to think of something difficult. "Okay, then… In ‘The Spanish Love Deception,’ why does Aaron offer to take Catalina to the wedding in Spain?" Jay lowered the barbell effortlessly and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Because he’s been in love with her for years and he’s tired of seeing her think she doesn’t deserve someone who looks at her the way he does." Your lips curled into a pout. Damn. He chuckled and moved to the squat area, positioning the barbell on his shoulders. Your eyes inevitably fell on his hips, on how the muscles in his legs flexed every time he squatted down and rose. It was ridiculous how attractive he was even while working out. You decided to try again. "Okay, then… describe the scene where Aaron and Catalina kiss for the first time." Jay paused mid-squat and threw you an amused glance. "Do you want me to tell you or would you prefer I show you?" You felt the heat rise in your cheeks and quickly looked away, pretending you hadn’t heard. After finishing his squats, Jay moved to the leg machine—the same one he’d had you use that one time at the gym. Without a care, he set the weight to 80 kilos and got comfortable, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "So, book girl? Got one last question?" You sighed and tried something even more specific. "What does Aaron say to Catalina when they confess their love?" Jay, without even thinking, answered in a lower tone, almost seriously: "‘I’ve loved you for so long that I don’t know what it’s like not to love you.’" At that moment, you realized: you had lost the bet. You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest, and Jay burst out laughing. "What’s with that face? Don’t like losing?" You shot him a glare. "I hate losing." "Good, because I love winning." He shrugged, amused. "I’ve loved it since I was little." You rolled your eyes. "So now I have to train with you every day?"

Jay laughed and then, with his usual cocky air, sat down on the leg machine bench, lightly patting his thighs. "Sit on me." You looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. "What?" "You heard me, book girl. Straddle me." You shook your head, your cheeks already burning. "I can’t." Jay raised an eyebrow, that mischievous grin you knew all too well spreading across his face. "And why not?" "Because… because we’re in public!" He burst out laughing again. "Sweetheart, I’ve booked the gym for an hour and a half. It’s just us here." You quickly glanced around and realized he was right. The gym was empty. You hesitated for a moment, then, with your heart pounding, you slowly positioned yourself on his legs, trying to keep some distance between you. Jay watched you with an amused little grin and then shook his head. "No, no, this isn’t gonna work. You need to move higher, or I can’t do the exercise." You swallowed hard, a little scared, and shifted higher, until you felt something hard and warm press against your center. A small moan escaped your lips, too unexpected to hold back, and Jay noticed it immediately. A flash of amusement and desire flickered in his eyes as he lowered his voice. "Oh? Already got you like this?" You bit your lip, trying to avoid his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. He leaned in slightly, his hands resting on your hips with a firm grip. "I knew you had a hidden side, book girl." As Jay started pushing the weights with you straddling him, you could feel his muscles tightening under your legs. His hands held your waist naturally, as though you were meant to be there, while his breathing deepened with the effort. You watched him closely, paying attention to every line, every movement. A thin layer of sweat made his skin shine, and without thinking too much, you placed your hands on his taut abs. You felt them under your fingers—sculpted, warm, alive. Jay lowered his gaze to you with a sly smile. "What’s this, you doing a technical assessment now?"

You blushed immediately, trying to retract your hands. "I… just curious." "Curious, huh?" he said in a teasing tone, digging his fingers into your sides to make you jump a little. After a few more reps, he finally set his legs down and sat up with a still-burning look. "So… what do I have to do for that perfect ten in the kiss?" You looked at him confused. "What?" Jay stood up, catching his breath as he slowly made you slide off his legs, still holding you by the waist. "I’ll take a quick shower, then we’ll eat something and watch your movie… and you’ll see, that grade will go up, sweetheart." "Sweetheart?" you repeated, blushing as if you’d just heard a swear word. "Mh-hm, you like it, admit it," he said, winking at you as he grabbed his towel and disappeared into the bathroom. After about ten minutes, you were sitting on his couch in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt—his, by the way—while you tried to find your favorite movie to put on. His apartment was neat but lived-in, cozy with a few luxurious touches that left no doubt Jay was truly "the CEO’s son." When he returned, his hair still wet and wearing a fresh t-shirt, he brought two plates with him. "I did everything, sweetheart. Tonight, I’m spoiling you." He set the plate in front of you and dropped down beside you, making you sink a little into the couch as you nodded shyly. "Thank you…" As you ate, the conversation flowed easily. You, with your usual shyness, he, never miss a chance to tease you. "So, after this movie, can I say I’ve conquered all of your book girl heart, yes or no?" "It depends on how you behave." He chuckled softly, leaning in slightly. "Interesting threat." Then he handed you a small treat, cutting it in half with a spoon. "Half for you." You nodded with a smile, taking the spoon and eating your half while finally starting the movie. "Oh, so this is the infamous movie of your heart… let’s see if it’s worthy of my ten." And as the screen lit up, Jay already wrapped an arm around your shoulders, whispering, "Get ready, sweetheart. Tonight, I’m getting that ten."

His lips crashed against yours with a restrained hunger, almost frantic. The taste of the sweet you had shared just moments before mixed with the heat of the kiss, making it even more indecent, even more overwhelming. You moaned softly against his mouth, your hands sinking into his soft strands as you pulled him closer, nearer, as if just a centimeter of air between you could make everything fall apart. Jay chuckled against your lips, his hand exploring under the hoodie you were wearing—his hoodie. "You like wearing my stuff, huh?" he whispered in a low, teasing tone, his fingers brushing the warm skin of your hips. "Maybe because it makes you feel like you're mine." You blushed immediately, but a smile crept onto your lips. "Shut up…" you laughed weakly, without any real conviction. But Jay wasn’t waiting for an invitation: his mouth pulled away from yours and dropped to your neck, leaving slow kisses that became more intense, until he sucked on your skin decisively. "J-Jay…" you stammered, your words trembling between sighs. "I-I have class tomorrow…" "Perfect," he murmured against your skin, "that way you can think of me every time you feel one of these marks burning." He pulled you even closer, as if he wanted to carve himself into you, to claim you silently and viscerally. Then his voice changed, lower, warmer, authoritative but never harsh. "See how quickly you lose yourself for me, sweetheart?" he whispered in your ear. "Don't be shy now. You want it just as much as I do." Then he slowly pulled back, leaving you still gasping, and with that same arrogant, irresistible half-smile, he locked eyes with you. "Alright, book girl… how much are you giving me now?" You stared at him, trying to steady your breath. "N-nine." Jay raised an eyebrow. "Nine?" You nodded, biting your lip. Jay sighed dramatically and leaned back. "What do I have to do for that damn ten?"

He took you to his room without saying anything, but the silence was charged — as if every unspoken second was a shudder tucked under his skin. Once inside, he let you slide slowly onto the bed, the look never detaching from yours. He was above you in a moment, his hands planted on the sides of your head, his body barely touching yours. He kissed you with a slow bastard, as if he were savoring every second... and then he said to you, hoarse and low voice:

"You know you're driving me crazy, right? do you read those books full of dirty scenes and then be shy? Honey, either you stop it, or I'll teach you how to write a scene worthy of that book." Your breath froze for a second, but you didn't look down. He noticed it — and smiled, slow and cruel in the sweetest way. He stroked your hip over the sweatshirt, with a finger, and then added: "Take it off. I want to see everything. And don't try to hide, or I swear I'll rip it off." You looked at him with a timid challenge in the eyes, and obeyed. As the sweatshirt slipped away, his gaze devoured you alive. It lingered on your bra, on your already hard nipples under the fabric. He said nothing for a few seconds. He just looked at you. Then he licked his lower lip, and muttered:

"Fuck. Look at these buds ... so sensitive just for me?" he leaned his face to your chest and began to suck slowly over your bra, but with that deliberate slowness that drove you crazy. Every now and then he looked up to watch your reaction, his eyes full of desire but also of control. You pulled him by the hair, with a choked groan, and whispered: "I want your tongue on my skin..." He laughed, that low, almost cruel laugh. "I knew that under that good girl facade lurked a little perversion. You get excited to read those scenes in the books and then you come to me all red in the face. But now... you're the protagonist, And I'm not here to spare you."

His hands slowly went down your back and unfastened your bra with a disarming naturalness. When he saw your breasts, he barely opened his eyes and then stared at you as if he had found something sacred and forbidden at the same time. "You're gorgeous. And never again dare to doubt how desirable you are. Look what you're doing to me." The tone was fierce and hungry, but full of adoration. He lowered himself again, his mouth a puff from your skin, and whispered: "Do I kiss them so slowly or do you want me to bite them? Tell me, princess of novels... how much do you want me to dirty for you?" Your whisper was lost between the heated breaths. "Kiss me... but I also want you to suck them.» He paused for a second. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a grin on his lips. "Ah, so now you give orders? The bookgirl gets bold..." He shook his head slowly, as one of his hands lay firmly on your side, holding you steady, possessive and present.

"Honey, you have no idea what you're asking for." He leaned in slowly, his dark eyes pointed straight into yours, and then let his lips close on your hard bud, sucking it with a slowness that almost made you moan his name. You felt him warm, precise, damn confident. With his other hand, he caressed your other breast, first sweet, then more firm, squeezing it as if he wanted to learn it by heart. And you... stutter. «Jay... oh-fuck ... you're ... you're too ... you drive me crazy, I swear..." Your voice was trembling, a mixture of desire and surprise, as your body reacted to his every touch. He laughed, his mouth still on you, then came off just enough to talk, his voice low, scratched with desire. "I'd suck them for hours, you know? You have fucking masterpiece breasts. Full, soft ... they seem to fit in my mouth. And the way you groan when I touch them? That's all I could come for." You looked at him with eyes shining with excitement and pulled a lock of his hair slightly, still unkempt by his heat. "Oh My God ... who reads Spicy romance now? You're dirtier than all my books put together."

He laughed quietly, with that hoarse voice sticking under your skin. Then he stopped, his breath still labored, and he ran his tongue over his lower lip. His hair was a mess, scattered over his eyes, and the way he looked at you was almost animalistic. "Can I get off? I want to kiss you ... really.» You bit your lip, a little scared, a little excited as hell. "Yes..." you whispered. He immediately praised you, with that disarming sweetness that contrasted with the darkness in his gestures. "Good girl... that's how you do it."

But you... inside you felt something squeeze. The panic, that annoying little voice that reminded you that you were not "perfect". That you didn't have that flat stomach, that your body was normal, real, with curves that you sometimes hated looking at yourself in the mirror. You tried to smile, pretend everything was fine, but he knew you too well. He stopped. He really looked at you. "sweetness..." he said quietly,and his voice changed slightly. "What is it? Why are you shaking?" You lowered your eyes.

"It's nothing... just that... I'm not-like those girls you see on Instagram. I'm not sculpted, I don't have a flat stomach and—" he came up, his hand warm on your face. "So what? You know what I see?" He looked at you with a sudden seriousness. "A body that drives me crazy. A woman who knows how to make me lose control. And if you think even for a second that it's not enough, then I'll have to prove you wrong... with my tongue, with my hands, with everything I have.» He bent down again, this time with less irony and more intensity. "And don't pretend to me. I don't want the safe version of you. I want you. All. Your insecurities too. Especially those.»

you smiled. It was that shy but bright smile that made him lose every shred of control. He looked at you as if he had won a battle, and then he bent over you again, lips that began to descend slow, stubborn, kissing your neck, then your chest, your belly... every kiss was a silent statement, slow torture. he slowly sucked your skin to the navel, leaving small marks where his mouth had stopped too long. When he got to the edge of the leggings, he stopped and looked up at you with an expression that made you burn inside.

"May I? "he whispered, but his tone was more of a challenge than a question. You nodded, and without missing a second, he slowly pulled your pants off. When he saw your white panties with the pink rose in the center, he made a low and amused whistle. "But look at that. So innocent outside, so dirty inside. You like playing good girl, huh? With your cute panties and those books full of scenes that make you blush..." He teased you in a low, hoarse voice, as he approached again, leaving kisses on your tight, sensitive skin. "Open your legs for me, honey.»

You did. Your heart pounded into your chest as you watched it move between your thighs. He settled down naturally, his arms firm around your hips, as if he was getting comfortable in his favorite scene. And then it began. His lips, his tongue, his hands ... every part of him seemed to adore you. He would kiss and suck on your inner thighs, slow, methodical, as if he wanted to drive you crazy before you even got where you wanted. Every time you moaned about the contact of his mouth, he looked down at you with those dark, fiery eyes, and spoke.

"Do you like it when I kiss you like that? That wasn't in the book you were reading yesterday, was it? Or maybe yes... the scene on page 267... the one where he only makes her scream with his tongue?» He would bite you slowly, leave marks, and then blow on it to make you shiver. "I bet you touched yourself reading that scene. Now I'm in his place. Now I'm writing your story.» And then... he ran a slow finger over your clitoris, still covered by the thin tissue, and your breath broke into a gasp. Your body just arched and he noticed it right away. He stopped, but did not turn away. He looked at you with a new hunger in his eyes, but also a rare sweetness. "sweetie..." he said quietly, and made you tremble just because of the way he said your name. "May I? Can I kiss you there? Touch every part of you? Worship you as you deserve?» His voice was calmer, but still imbued with desire. No rush, just that uncontrollable urge to make you feel wanted. Not just wanted, loved through every kiss.

"Yes..." you whispered, your voice mixed with desire and tension. He wasted no time. His fingers grabbed the elastic of your white panties, slowly sliding them down your thighs. When he saw the noticeable moisture on the fabric, his smile widened into a satisfied, almost cruel grin. He lifted them up, looked at them, and then gave you a look that made you flare up.

"So wet it left its mark... and I haven't done anything yet. Are you already breaking up for me, little bookgirl?» You tried to close your legs, instinctively, but he opened them to you again with a firmness that admitted no argument. His hands rested on your thighs, holding you wide open for him. "No no ... no shyness now. You wanted it, remember? You asked me to kiss you, to touch you. And look at that show..."

He lowered slightly, his eyes peering at your intimacy with brazen adoration and malice. "Pulsating, shiny... it looks like he's crying for me.» Your breathing became irregular. Red-hot cheeks. "Has anyone ever touched you here?"he asked in a hoarse voice, without taking his eyes off. You shook your head slowly, almost trembling. "N-no ... never.» he bit his lip, evidently impressed by the answer. "Christ..." he hissed. "And all those perfect boyfriends you read in your novels? What do they do to their girls, huh?»

You blushed even more, but answered in a low voice, almost stuttering: "C-there's this scene... he kisses her inner thighs ... and then ... then he holds them still and... passes her tongue ... there. And watch her do it.» he growled quietly, a sound of pure hunger. "Little literary pig ... and then pretend you don't know what you want.» He came up again, his hands always on your thighs, his gaze ravenous. And before you could say anything, he ducked and sank, tongue hot, firm, hungry. No warning. No hesitation. He made you gasp, quietly scream his name, while his face was hidden between your thighs and his breath burned on your skin.

His arms held you still, clasped you tightly against his mouth, while his tongue explored each point with slow and then rapid, deep and ravenous movements. Every time you moaned, he responded with a low, satisfied sound, as if your every tremor was a reward. "You are as sweet as in your books, but much truer," he muttered to you. "And I ... I haven't started yet.»

His tongue was fire and patience. he licked, sucked, teased your clit with precise, hungry movements, which made you squeeze the sheets under you. He was kneeling between your thighs, his face sunk into your skin, as if savoring the scene he had been waiting for too long. "You're shaking," he muttered to you, his voice kneaded with longing. "I'm going to add a finger. Let me hear how much you want me to hear.» When you feel his finger slide in, slowly, he broke your breath. You arched your back, letting out a broken groan.

"Jay ... fuck ... it's... too much, but-well ... oh my God..." He smiled at you. That bastard smile that knows exactly the effect it has on your body. "So responsive ... and I thought you were just a good girl with love books.» As his finger moved inside you, slow but deep, his words struck you more than touch. "You read all that spicy stuff and you've never experienced anything like it, huh? Remember that scene where he fingers her while licking her clit? Well—» And he moved again, his lips back to where he made you lose your breath. You grabbed Him by the hair, almost to anchor yourself to reality as he upped the pace. And he laughed softly at you.

"You're taking my finger so well, Baby, made just for me. Only I can see you so lost. Only I make you shake like that.» He adds a second finger, and the feeling almost made you cry from pleasure. "I ... I'm-I'm going to come..." you moaned, no longer any filter. He looked up, eyes dark and disheveled, lips moist, the face marked by your desire. "So soon?" he teased you in a hoarse voice. "Then come. But do it around my tongue.» And when he came back to you, it was the end. Your body melted under his hands, his words, his mouth. And as you let go, he whispered against your skin: "Good girl ... so sensitive. So mine.»

You were still trying to regulate your breath, your skin moist with heat, your legs mushy. And just then, he took off his shirt. You turned to the side, pretending to look at the ceiling. You could not immediately face the sight of his chest, the sculpted abs that had just made you from prison as you came trembling under him. "Seriously?"he said in that tone that made you shudder. "I just made you come like in one of the scenes in your books... and now you are ashamed to look at me?» You stammered something, embarrassed, clutching the sheets. "N-it's not that I'm ashamed... it's that you're... a little too much to watch everything together, that's it.» He laughed, low and rough, and leaned toward you.

"Touch, then. If you can't look, use your hands.» He took your wrist and steered it slowly over his bare chest. Your fingers flashed on the hard, hot, live abs under the skin. You counted them one by one, in silence, until you rose to your chest, then to your shoulders, then you approached… And without much thought, you began to kiss him. Your neck, easy. Then that spot under his ear that you knew was his weakness. "Mh..." he groaned quietly, squinting. "You already knew where to kiss me, huh? The little bookgirl who learns fast..."

He kissed your temple slowly, but as you continued to explore it with your lips, he came up and began to rub softly against you. Its member, hard and hot, rubbed against your still naked and sensitive intimacy, and you both moaned in unison, a muffled, but powerful sound. You smiled against his skin and gently teased him, he shook his head with a half smile and stared at you, eyes bright and black. "Do you want it?» You looked at him without hesitation.

«You. I want you." he pulled off his pants calmly, never taking his eyes off yours, and when he was left alone with the boer His body, sculpted and taut, was a symphony of control and restrained desire. You looked at him, with a mixture of amazement and desire, without being able to look away. "You're staring," he said with a crooked, mischievous grin, as he reached out to the nightstand to pick up a condom. "Are you sure, sweetie?» You nodded with a small trembling breath, but you looked him in the eye. «You. With you, yes.» His gaze barely changed: from arrogant to incredibly sweet, as if that “yes” had been something he had always been waiting for. "Then ... give me space.» When you took off the boer He laughed softly, that low sound that sent you into a tailspin.

"What is it, princess? Did you expect anything less?" he gently teased you, as she adjusted the condom naturally. You gave him a playful look. «Only... wow. Some books had not warned about this.» You looked at his cock which was long and slightly venous with a slimy pearly white and he stretched out slightly and took a persevative from the nightstand and tore it carefully and you looked a little curious but also embarrassed as he slipped his cock around the condom very well and he giggled, then took a pillow and gently placed it under your hips, his muscles still tense for control. He gently stroked your side, looking a little more serious now. "If you feel something wrong, shake my hand. I'll stop whenever you want, ok» You felt nervous, but confident. "Don't worry. I trust you.» He kissed your forehead, tenderly, and when he began to push slowly inside you, every gesture was a mixture of slowness and respect. His breathing became more irregular, and you held your breath, feeling every inch of him, every accelerated beat. "sweetie..." he whispered against your skin, in a voice so warm that it made you shiver. "You're perfect. Made for me.»

And you, under him, between trembles and breathless breaths, you really felt seen. Want. At the center of his world. When the contact between you finally became complete, the world seemed to hold its breath. A slight discomfort made its way inside you, and instinctively you clasped your legs, looking for stability. she immediately froze, her jaw clenched, but the tone of her voice was incredibly soft. "It's okay... I'll stay put until you're ready. Take your time.» You nod, heart pounding. You stammered hard: "I ... I feel weird. But also full. And alive.» He kissed you softly, his lips on yours like a caress, while with his free hand he stroked your side to calm you down. He whispered small provocations in a low voice, of those that he knew how to send you into a tailspin, until, with a trembling sigh, you told him:

"You can ... you can move.» His first movement was slow, studied, almost reverent. The second, deeper. You both groaned, as if your voices were looking for each other at the same time. Every time he moved, you felt your body adapt to him, as if you were pieces of the same story. "You're taking it so well," he whispered in that low, cheeky, intimate tone. "As if you were made for me.» You gasped, fingers in his hair, and you could no longer hold back. The words came out confused, broken by pleasure: "I ... too much... but also not enough. I want you everything. Don't stop.» He smiled, almost fierce in his rough sweetness. "So lost to me, huh? Just like in your novels. But this time ... it's real.» The rhythm changed. He became more decisive, but always with that care that made you feel safe. Every moan you snatched from him, every caress, every look was a crescendo. It was desire, but also something deeper.

The sheets were now crumpled under you, and the air in the room smelled of warm skin, desire, breath. he was above you, his forehead streaked with sweat, his dark and burning gaze planted on your face. His voice was hoarse, as if he was holding back something too powerful. "God, sweetie..." he muttered, sinking once more into you, more slowly, more deeply. "I'm going crazy. Every time I catch you, you're tighter, wetter. It's like I want to swallow everything.»

He clasped your side with one strong hand, while the other stroked your cheek with a delicacy that contrasted with the gentle brutality of his thrusts. You trembled under him, legs trying to squeeze to contain all that pleasure that made itself feel stronger and more urgent. "I ..." you stammered, your voice broken. "S-I'm going to come again... I can't—" He silenced you with a deep kiss, his breath mixed with yours, then broke away and whispered against your lips: "I know, baby. I can feel it. The way you huddle around me, you're ready to explode. Foul. Show me how well you come for me.» Then, as if that were not enough, his fingers returned to look for your clitoris, teasing it with precise movements. You moaned loudly, almost screaming, and you clung to his arms, to his shoulders, wherever I could find a foothold. "S - I'm going crazy..." you stammered, tears in your eyes at the intensity of the moment. "...it's too much, it's too good—"

"Shhh," he whispered with a crooked, mischievous smile. "Don't say it. I know how much you like it. I know you're mine. No one's ever made you feel that way, has they?» You shook your head, unable to speak, and he looked at you with that look hungry and full of pride. «Exact. Just me. And I want you to come. Hour. Around me.» And you did. Your body bent like a wave beneath him, your back arched, your mouth open in a choked cry, as your skin burned and your sight blurred for a moment. He could still hear your response to his touch, to his voice, and his breathing became heavier. "Fuck ..." he growled. "Look what you do to me. I can't even resist. I want you too much.»

He continued to move within you, a little more labored now, and when you tried to close your legs, sensitive, still shaken, he took you forcefully and opened them to you again, pushing you slowly but firmly. "No, not now. Your fucking pussy is still calling me..." "I... it's too much, I can't do it..." you begged with a thread of voice. He lowered himself on your neck, leaving you a slow, almost reverent kiss. "Yes you can. You're perfect. So surrendering. So mine.» One last push, deeper. Then another. Then you felt him tremble over you, his breath broken. "I'm... I'm fucking coming ..." he gasped against your skin, clutching you as he let go, sinking all the way before stopping, completely shaken. There he stood, inside you, his face tucked between your shoulder and the pillow. Then, gently, he lifted his face and kissed your forehead. "Don't look at me like that..." you muttered shyly, looking back. "So how?"he laughed softly, stroking your side. "Like you are the most beautiful thing I've ever touched? Because you are.» You blushed again, and he took your chin between your fingers. "And now that I've seen you like that, lost under me..." he paused, his mischievous smile returning. "There's no escape, honey. I still want you. And you ... you belong to me.»

Jay slowly got up, his skin still slightly damp, his hair tousled like after a storm, his gaze lowered onto your naked form beneath the sheets. He bent over the edge of the bed with that familiar arrogance in his movements, but something had shifted in his eyes: a kind of tenderness hidden behind his crooked smile. "Don't move," he said in a hoarse voice, almost an order, but with the care of someone who had just read your soul.

Moments later, he returned with a small warm towel. He knelt beside you and began gently dabbing at your skin, as if you were fragile, as if everything that had just happened between the two of you wasn’t an explosion of desire, but a confession. "Your face is still red, baby..." he murmured, passing the steaming cloth between your thighs with disarming gentleness. "What’s the matter, can’t look at me after I made you scream my name?"

You lowered your gaze, embarrassed, absentmindedly stroking his rebellious hair. Your silence was sweet, a little dazed, a little lost. Jay smiled. He passed you his hoodie—huge on you—and lay down beside you. He pulled you close, as if his chest were home. His breath was slow, but his fingers never stopped caressing your back. "Trying to hide in my hoodie?" he said, lowering himself to your face. "Are you avoiding me? Don’t tell me you're embarrassed... after I’ve seen you so lost beneath me."

You lowered your gaze again. "It’s not that... it’s just..." you fiddled with the sleeve’s edge, "I’m not used to... all of this."

He chuckled softly. "What? Post-apocalypse cuddles? Or the fact that I made you come so hard you screamed my name more than you've ever screamed reading a spicy book?"

"Jay!" you whispered, hiding your face against his chest. "What?" he asked innocently. "You have no idea how many times I thought about teasing you after seeing you with those books? And now... here we are. You’re touching my hair like I’m your favorite comfort character."

You pushed him lightly. "You are."

He froze. Then he took your chin between two fingers. "Repeat it." "I said you are—" "No, no, no. Don’t cut me off. Tell me properly. Out loud." His gaze became intense. "...You’re my favorite comfort character."

Jay gave an arrogant smirk. "Damn. This is worse than a 'I love you' in bookgirl code."

"And you’re worse than all the book boyfriends put together," you muttered, but with a smile on your lips. "Yeah?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Better than Aaron?" "Don’t compare yourself to Aaron!" you protested. "Too late, sweetness." He gently pushed you into the pillow and pinched your side. "I already won, and I think I got a nice 10 too. I’m more real, and I make you laugh and moan."

You blushed so hard he laughed heartily, then kissed your forehead.

After a few seconds of silence, you sighed. "Jay… so… us?" He paused. "Us, what?" "What happens now?"

He took a moment, then brought a hand to his chest in a fake dramatic declaration. "Are you telling me that having you all curled up under my hoodie, in my bed, with trembling legs, isn’t enough? You want words too?" You looked up. "I’m being serious."

His gaze softened, becoming calmer, more sincere. "And me?" He moved closer, brushing your chin with his nose. "I like you, Y/n. Like… in a way I hate, because it makes me soft. But also in a way I love, because it makes me yours."

You smiled softly. "So you’re mine?" He laughed. "Only if you’re mine." "I am."

Jay paused, then gently rolled you onto him and hugged you as if he had found home. "Then there’s nothing more to say. Now sleep, little bookgirl. Tomorrow, I’ll bring you breakfast in bed and steal another spicy novel so I can figure out what you want me to do next."

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[urstruly-ghst]

peek-a-boo ! - dorm leaders

in which you like hiding in the most random places and surprising them

authors note: like they're gonna be so mad but ykw they love u

ALSO OMG 1K FOLLOWERS ??!! ty everyoneee <3!

riddle rosehearts

you're lucky, riddle notes, he is used to these antics from che'nya. he was so blessed to know those tactics, because riddle wouldn't know what to do if he was unprepared of this situation: you were hanging upside down because you hid on top of his closet!

smiling and humming happily, you edge close to the very end of the closet door; as if you're taunting him.

"heyyy riddle!"

"you get down this instant and be careful!" riddle said mortified as he started pulling his pillows and duvets to the ground to cushion your fall. you jumped and riddle yelled and used his magic to make you float.

"my rose..." he said with a glare as his heart thumped hard against his chest. "never do that again."

leona kingscholar

herbivore is what he calls you, however he feels like that calling you "kitten" is now appropriate. you act like some juvenile kitten who just saw the world. though, leona isn't keen on that behaviour.

leona is on the verge of assigning ruggie to you now, with how your conquest to fright him with the many times you put yourself in places you shouldn't be in. for example, the dorm's tall trees.

"herbivore!" leona growled as his heart sank when he heard from ruggie you disappeared somewhere in the dorm. you whistle and shake a bit to signal to leona you were up on the tree.

"hey, kingscholar!" you said smugly as you lounged atop the tree. leona felt scared and irritated, why must you make things difficult before he has to nap or practice? he struck the tree and made into sand before catching you, his grunt and your wide eyed stare was enough to send the dorm into a frenzy.

"you are not leaving my side, understood?" leona said as he wrapped his tail around you.

azul ashengrotto

azul is still trying to get used to how legs work and being in high up places. so why must you torture him and hide in the most inconvenient of places? the most outrageous was his laundry basket, which mind you, now smells like you! (not that he minds, but still!)

he's trying to find you in the vast dorm room, azul curses his extensive dorm sometimes when it came to how you hide. azul thinks that floyd is also helping you, which is worse, now he has to deal with double the trouble.

"beryl...? come on out, we have plans remember?" azul calls out a bit wary and frustrated that it was dead silent and you may have been hiding for too long. oh, sevens, you may be hungry!

"boo." you say as you grab onto his ankles, azul shrieked and fell. his legs failing him, you giggle as you crawl out of the bottom of some floor board? azul glared as he recovered composure.

"we're making a new deal." azul says as he readies himself to make a contract with one new rule: stop sneaking up on him.

kalim al asim

it wasn't kalim's problem to find you, jamil or someone else does. it infuriates jamil that kalim joins in on your little escapades. sometimes you make it a contest to see if one can hide longer.

though, kalim does get scared sometimes. you learned some tricks from him too, and it is a disadvantage to him especially when you disappear for too long. for example, right now, you're nowhere to be seen and his spacious dorm makes the search even more difficult.

"sunshine? sunshineee?" kalim echoes in the hallway, jamil also on a search for you on the other end of the dorm. it was fun at first but it was concerning and record-breaking. kalim turned a corner and a plant grabbed onto him. kalim nearly flooded the plant until he realized it was you.

"easyy, baby!" you say as he almost sent a flood your way. kalim sighed in relief, and smiled brightly because you now were found!

"yeah, well... you know how i am with being alone!" kalim giggled nervously, as if to remind you of his status and what that entails. you nodded and said "oh" with the realization. lesson learned i guess?

vil schoenheit

you're lovable, vil would say, as his patience thin at the prospect of you disappearing. usually, it was easy to find you. predictable is what vil calls your hiding skills. also, rook hunt happily indulges in the request of finding you (unfair with his unique magic.)

today, however, vil was on his own trying to find you in the dorm. he was an expert at the little nooks and crannies of the dorm. however he was bested because you dropped by, literally, in front of him effectively startling him.

"kya!" vil said as he brought out his wand ready to attack. you smile as you brush yourself off, falling from the chandelier. he sputtered before glaring. vil checked your vitals and tried to see if any injury was there.

"hiya sweetie!" you chirped and vil clicks his tongue as he carefully inspected you. once he's done, he flicks your forehead with a glare.

"don't 'sweetie' me, potato. you could've been hurt. now, come. we are overdue for a good scolding and pampering" vil said with a glare as if he is making note of a new potion to stop your hiding tendency.

idia shroud

frankly, idia thinks you're insane. he even straight up considers bringing you to a facility to check up on your mental capacity. why? who hides in a room filled with computers with no jacket? do you know how cold those rooms are? idia and ortho found you smiling as you hid in some closet box where the power supply is.

and trust, idia keeps you under lock and key after that. but you had your ways, you'd hide under the desk, the bed. behind his clothes, anything. it came to the point idia made a software called, "find prefect."

"oh geez. ortho boot up find prefect" idia said as he saw how you're not in his room again. idia was jittery knowing that you'd bribe ortho into not revealing where you are for a prank, which ortho seems to love lately.

as ortho boots up, it takes a while, you surprise him by covering his eyes. a loud shriek occurred as the lights turned off too. idia burns up and ortho giggled as he finally finished booting up

"prefect is 4 centimeters away from your location!"

malleus draconia

how adorable, malleus says, as you try to hide from his careful eye. he's quite used to lilia and his hiding skills, so you can't hide no matter how hard you try. yet, malleus entertains this folly and pretends to be shocked whenever you try to spook him.

though, malleus gets concerned by how you take risks in hiding at the most obsecure of places. his personal fright was you hiding by the moat because it was the least expected. as malleus dries you up, he shakes his head and gently scolds you.

"you have to admit, the moat is a good place to hide" you chide as malleus uses his magic to lift you away from the moat. you drip from being sprung from the water and shiver at the wind.

"it is quite the unexpected turn. but i'd rather have my dear child of man safe and dry." malleus scolds as he dries you up and pinches your cheek to scold you.

"ahh fine" you surrender, knowing you really can't fight his logic, you were starting to cramp up from trying to stay afloat.

[heartsriki]

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY ⌇편지

pairing ᝰ ni-ki x fem!reader — featuring.. jungwon | word count: 2200+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ highschool au!, fluff, misunderstandings, sunshine x grumpy.

synopsis — After seeing your tiny crush nishimura riki sneak something into the confession box you just had to investigate.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊guys I swear ill make a non highschool au with riki soon... I couldn't help myself.. anyways its FEB!! can't wait to write valentines themed fics!

Finally.

It was your favorite month of the whole year.

You worked as a library assistant at your school—not because you particularly loved the job, but because it was better than joining a club.

Well… that’s what you told people.

In reality, you had a secret gig.

Tucked away in the most secluded part of the library was your confession box—a simple, unassuming container where students could slip in anonymous notes pouring out their feelings.

It started as something just for you. A place to vent when things got overwhelming. But then, he found out.

Jungwon.

You had no choice but to let him in on your little secret, and somehow, he became your best friend. Over time, word spread, and people started using the box themselves. What once held only your thoughts turned into a place where students whispered their love stories into folded pieces of paper.

Only Jungwon knew you were the one behind it.

And now, February had arrived—the holy grail of confessions. Sure, people submitted notes year-round, but around Valentine’s Day? The numbers spiked.

You weren’t going to lie. You loved it. Not just the thrill of reading them (and occasionally sharing the best ones with Jungwon, who never breathed a word), but the idea that you were helping people express what they were too afraid to say out loud.

So here you were, stationed at the front desk, pretending to browse book requests on the computer when a group of girls giggled their way to the back of the library.

Your eyes flickered toward them, amused. Definitely not because you were excited to read their confessions later. Nope. Definitely not.

Then, moments later—he walked in.

Riki.

The second you saw him, your instincts flared up. Suspicious.

Riki never stepped foot in the library. He barely did his assignments, let alone read for fun. So why was he here?

You watched, careful not to make it obvious. He glanced around, acting almost… nervous? And then, without a word, he disappeared into the back.

Seconds later, he reappeared from the other side—hands in his pockets, expression unreadable, walking out as if nothing had happened.

Your breath hitched.

No way.

Did Nishimura Riki just put a confession in your box?

Your hand scrambled for your phone. You had to tell someone.

You:

JUNGWONJUNGWONOMG

PLSPLSANSWERLOOKATURPHONE

Wonnie:

Ok what the hell

What is it?

You:

You are NEVER going to believe who just slid into the back of the library.

Wonnie:

Is it Jake again? Poor guy

Maybe Jay? Idk tell me

You:

Nishimura… Riki…

Wonnie:

… Fr?

Maybe he confessed to you?

You:

Right, totally.

Wonnie:

Think about it.

And you did think about it.

You and Riki had a… relationship. Not exactly a friendship, but not total strangers either.

You first met in detention.

It was your first time there, and you had no idea what you were supposed to do. So, naturally, you turned to the guy next to you—the one with his headphones on, slouched in his seat like he owned the place.

Curious, you tapped his shoulder.

He flinched, looking caught before turning to glare at you. “What?”

You blinked. “How did you sneak those in? Can I listen too?”

Before he could answer, you asked another question. “Wait, also—what are we supposed to do in here?”

His face twisted in disbelief. “What do we do in detention? You sit here. Now be quiet before—”

“Mr. Nishimura, sneaking electronics in again?” The teacher’s voice cut in, hand outstretched.

Riki groaned, slumping back in his seat before begrudgingly handing over his phone and headphones.

When the teacher walked away, he snapped his head back to you, eyes burning with betrayal.

You swore he glared at you for the rest of the day.

Ever since then, you tried to make it up to him—with snacks, lunch, even passing him worksheets to copy. Eventually, after weeks of bugging him, he forgave you.

Kind of.

Even now, he still acted so indifferent.

Whenever you waved at him in the hallway, he looked away. When you invited him to sit with you and your friends, he ignored you. Even when you walked beside him, talking about anything and everything—he barely responded.

At first, you assumed he was just bad with people. But then you saw him with his friends—laughing, joking, talking.

So why was he only like this with you?

Eventually, you gave up.

You distanced yourself, refusing to waste energy on someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

But then, every now and then, you’d catch him staring—or see him approach you, only to hesitate and walk away.

It was confusing. Frustrating. You told yourself you didn’t care anymore.

Until the school trip.

It had been late at night when you were sent to fetch supplies from the shed—a small, isolated building at the edge of the woods.

You weren’t scared, but walking alone with only a flashlight wasn’t exactly comforting.

By the time you found everything, thunder rumbled outside. Moments later, the skies opened up.

Heavy rain. Lightning. The kind of downpour that turned dirt trails into slippery nightmares.

Running back wasn’t an option.

So, hugging your knees to your chest, you sat in the shed—silent, alone, trying not to cry.

Minutes passed. Then—

The door burst open.

You jumped, heart nearly stopping—until your eyes locked with his.

Riki.

He stood there, soaked from head to toe, breathless, his curls sticking to his forehead.

Did he… run here?

He didn’t speak. Just stared for a moment, like he was checking if you were okay, before stepping inside and sitting next to you.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re helpless, you know that?”

You blinked, then let out a soft, teary laugh. He was trying to act tough. But he was clearly worried.

Neither of you spoke after that. You just sat there, listening to the storm. Well, you spoke—rambling like you used to, and for once, he didn’t seem to mind.

By the time the rain cleared, something between you had shifted.

And now, months later, here you were—staring at an empty confession box, knowing Riki put something inside, yet not finding his name anywhere.

Jungwon’s voice pulled you back.

“I knew I’d find you here.” He smirked. “Anything good?”

You forced a laugh, trying to mask your disappointment. “Yeah, some interesting ones. Oh—Minji completely dropped her last crush and moved on to a new one. Isn’t that crazy?”

Jungwon squinted at you. “You’re looking for Riki’s, aren’t you?”

You groaned, immediately dropping your head onto the table. “I’m pitiful. Don’t look at me.”

Jungwon laughed, dragging a chair out and sitting across from you. “You’re not pitiful. Just mildly down bad.”

You groaned, keeping your forehead against the table. “But I know he put something in there. I saw him! I was so ready to read it, but it’s like—poof!—nothing!”

Jungwon tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. “You sure he actually put something in the box?”

You lifted your head slightly. “Of course, I literally watched him sneak in.”

“Then…” Jungwon grinned knowingly. “What if he took something out?”

That made you pause. You sat up straight, eyes wide. “Wait… What?”

“Think about it,” Jungwon continued. “If he put in a confession and realized he wasn’t ready, maybe he took it back.”

Your mind raced. That… actually made sense. But why would Riki take it back? And more importantly—who was he confessing to?

The thought made your stomach twist, and you weren’t sure why.

Jungwon smirked, clearly enjoying the sight of you struggling. “You could just ask him, you know.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right. ‘Hey, Riki! Weird question, but did you happen to steal a confession from my box?’”

“Why not?” Jungwon shrugged. “Or are you scared of the answer?”

You opened your mouth, ready to deny it, but the words never came. Were you scared? The idea of Riki confessing to someone else made your chest feel tight in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

Before you could respond, the student council room door creaked open again.

And there he was.

Riki stood in the doorway, hands shoved into his pockets, his hair a little bit above his eyes which flickered between you and Jungwon before settling on you.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. “Welp. That’s my cue to leave.” He patted your shoulder before slipping past Riki, whispering a quick, “Good luck,” on his way out.

The door clicked shut. Silence.

You swallowed. “Um… Did you need a book or—”

“I didn’t take it back.”

Your breath hitched.

Riki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “The letter. I didn’t take it back.”

Your heart was pounding now. You tried to keep your voice steady. “What do you mean?”

His gaze dropped to the floor. “I put it in there without a doubt, I think… someone else removed it. Maybe it was a sign not to confess to you.”

You.

Your throat went dry. “It was… for me?”

Riki let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Obviously.”

You blinked. “Obviously? What do you mean obviously? You ignore me ninety percent of the time!”

He huffed, looking almost embarrassed. “I don’t ignore you.”

“You literally pretend not to hear me half the time!”

“Because I don’t know what to say!” Riki finally looked at you, frustration and something else—something softer—lingering in his expression. “You drive me crazy, you know that? You talk too much, you’re way too nosy, and you never leave things alone. And somehow, I—” He stopped, exhaling sharply. “I like you, okay?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Riki rolled his eyes at your stunned silence. “This is embarrassing.”

You snapped out of your trance. “Wait, wait. Back up. You like me?”

He groaned, turning toward the door. “Forget I said anything—”

You grabbed his sleeve before he could leave.

He froze.

Slowly, you grinned. “You like me.”

Riki’s ears were turning red. “Shut up.”

You laughed, warmth bubbling in your chest. You never thought you’d get anywhere with him, and yet—here he was, out of breath looking at you so fondly, confessing in the most Riki-like way possible.

February was definitely your favorite month of them all.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The moment Riki stepped into the library, he knew he was making a mistake.

This wasn’t his scene. He didn’t do books, didn’t do anything that required more effort than necessary. But here he was, standing in the one place he actively avoided, shoving his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets as his eyes flickered toward the back.

He could feel your gaze on him.

You were always watching him.

Not in a weird way—more like you were constantly trying to figure him out. Always with that curious glint in your eyes, like he was a puzzle you were determined to solve.

He hated it.

No, that wasn’t true. He hated that he liked it.

And now, as he made his way toward the confession box—the stupidest thing he’d ever been a part of—he was hoping you weren’t paying too much attention.

With one last glance around, he slipped to the back, pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and dropped it inside.

Then, without missing a beat, he walked out through the other side, playing it cool.

It took everything in him not to look back.

He could already picture the way your brain was short-circuiting, the way you were probably grabbing your phone to text Jungwon. You always told him everything, after all.

Riki swore under his breath as he left the library.

He wasn’t even sure why he did it.

Well.

That was a lie.

He knew why.

It was because of you.

Because you confused the hell out of him.

You were supposed to be annoying—loud, persistent, way too nosy for your own good. You were supposed to be someone he could easily brush off, like he did with everyone else.

But you weren’t.

Because no matter how many times he ignored your waves in the hallway, you still smiled at him. No matter how often he shut you out, you never stopped trying.

And then you stopped.

You finally gave up on him.

And for some reason, that made his chest feel too tight.

Ever since that night on the school trip, when he found you curled up alone in the shed, it had been harder and harder to act like he didn’t care.

That night, when he heard you were missing—it was like he could imagine you with red eyes, shoulders shaking—he couldn’t stop himself.

Didn’t even think.

He just ran.

Ran straight into the storm, through the rain, barely able to see a damn thing—but knowing exactly where he was going.

When he finally got there, when he saw you small and fragile under the dim light, something in him cracked.

He never wanted to see you like that again.

But he didn’t know how to tell you that.

He wasn’t good with words. He wasn’t good with feelings.

So he wrote it down instead.

It wasn’t a confession, not in the way you expected.

But it was something.

Something for your eyes only.

Something he thought you would have found by now.

So when he walked passed the student council room later that evening, seeing you and Jungwon hunched over the pile of notes, he knew immediately.

You hadn’t seen it.

Because if you had, you wouldn’t be looking for his name like he overheard.

And now, as both your heads snapped toward him, your eyes wide and startled—

Riki sighed, stepping forward.

…You took it, didn’t you? He thought looking straight at Jungwon.

Because if you didn’t find his letter in the box…

Then someone must have.

What was Jungwon playing at?

What happens next? Click (optional)

[rosenclaws]

XXX.Com || Pornstar Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: Logan needs money and work is hard to find when you're from another universe, luckily he lands himself a job as an adult film actor. Lets just say, he's a natural.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!!, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, porn (obvi lol), jerking off, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, scratching, oral f!receiving, rough sex, fake professor x college student (its the porno they're filming), he calls you teach in the porno, reader has a stage name (sunshine), flirting.

a/n: This was inspired by the delicious pornstar logan fics by @bpmiranda I wanted to try my own twist on the trope but plz go check out their fics they are amazing!!

Coming from another universe had its fair share of problems. For one his other self was a very well known hero so people were constantly staring. The other issue was working. He needed money if he ever wanted to move out of this god forsaken place. He’s sick of seeing wade walk around naked at 8 in the morning.

He needs his space and to get that he needs money but getting a job with none of the required paperwork was hard. He had to settle for doing odd jobs that paid cash under the table. Those were fine but he needed something more stable.

When Wade suggested he turn to adult films he rolled his eyes at another attempt at shitty humor from his roommate but the more he thought about it the less it seemed like a joke. The money was good and hopefully they didn't ask too many questions. So fuck it. How he found the right place was a long story but he ended up getting hired pretty quickly.

As the director put it. He's sexy and big in more ways than one. To Logan's surprise they didn't seem to care much that he was from another universe but they did have to make sure he wasn't a total creep which he understood.

The first video he was assigned to was pretty basic. Just fucking a girls brains out or something. Whatever the hell people were in to these days, he didn't really care. As long as he got paid. He had to get used to the prying eyes of the cameras.

Still he said his lines, albeit it took him a couple takes to say them naturally. His gruff voice and rippling muscles skyrocketed him to the top. Despite being a rookie he attracted a lot of attention and even garnered a reputation within the studio. No one could deny the raw animal magnetism this man seemed to have.

"Logan! Good news, your next video is going to be a with one of the most popular stars in our studio." The directors over the top enthusiasm makes Logan's eyes roll but he grunts out a response.

"Her name is Sunshine. Look her up. Anyways be here tomorrow by nine." Sunshine? Logan chuckles to himself as he leaves the studio.

Fake names are not uncommon but he's yet to find one that sounds so...perky. Still his curiosity gets the better of him as he steals Wades laptop in the dead of night. Searching in the name and scanning the results. Logan works with many attractive people in this job but the moment he lays eyes on you something shifts.

You aren't just attractive, you're drop dead gorgeous. He clicks on a video and his cock tightens in his pants. The faces you make don't look over the top or rehearsed. They almost look real. But Logan can tell you're faking it.

Your moans are sweet but he can tell whoever this boy is that's got his cock in you isn't doing his job very well. Still ever the professional you are you make it work. He falls down a rabbit hole of video after video. Shutting the laptop as the clock reads two in the morning. His cock is hard and painful as he puts Wades laptop back on the counter.

Fuck he needs a shower.

The ice cold water hits his back but it's not helping. He wraps his hand around his cock. Keeping his noises to a minimum as he jerks himself off to the thought of you. He bites his lip as he thinks of every way he can make you scream tomorrow. Show you what it's like to be fucked by a real man.

The sinful thoughts that fill his head drive him over the edge. He slams his hand against the shower wall as he comes. The water running down his back as he catches his breath. You've already got him interested, he just hopes he can put on a real show tomorrow.

-

When Logan gets to the studio the director tells him the "plot" of this video. Plot being a very loose term here. He's supposed to be the failing college senior while you play the hot young professor. They hand him a white button up a size too small and some fake glasses. He laughs as they place the glasses onto his face.

"No one's going to fucking buy this." The buttons threaten to bust open as they start to fix his hair.

"I don't know, you look pretty convincing to me." He looks up to see you smiling at him.

Already dressed in your shoot clothes with your makeup and hair all done. He shamelessly looks you up and down, licking his lips as his eyes settle on your cleavage.

"I'm a little old to be playing a college student don't you think?" You shrug and walk closer to him. You take your hands and run them through his hair, trying to flatten the parts that stick up but they don't want to listen.

"Don't think any one is watching these for the realism Logan." You wink as you then move to fix his glasses.

He clenches his jaw as he tries to contain the raging boner. He shouldn't be hard yet but here he is. You're driving him crazy.

"Promise to go easy on you, don't want to scare my new favorite coworker." You tease. Your nails scratch along his jaw, just for a moment but it's enough to drive him wild.

"I'm your favorite already Sunshine?" Logan says with a grin.

"For now, don't prove me wrong when the cameras are on us." You walk away and Logan enjoys every second of it. Oh this is going to be fun.

-

"Come on teach, your class is the only one I'm failing. I need to get a C to graduate." Logan's massive frame towers over your desk. His lines come out much more flirty than its supposed to but you roll with it.

"You need a lot of extra credit to make up the missing assignments Mr. Howlett." You stand up and walk over to where he was standing.

Pushing on his chest to get him to sit. You smirk when you see the buttons on his shirt fighting for their life. You sit on top of the desk and pretend to think.

"I'll do anything you want. Anything" Logan growls, his hand resting on your thigh now. Slowing inching up your leg, stopping right at the hem of your pencil skirt. You place your heel onto his shoulder. Spreading your legs so that Logan and the camera can see your lack of panties.

"Well, lets see how bad you want it." You taunt.

Your voice is smooth as butter and it drives him nuts. Logan gets on his knees. Ripping your skirt apart with ease making you gasp. That wasn't in the script but fuck it made you wet. His muscles are bulging in that damn shirt and you want to see what's underneath in person. Sadly that was going to have to wait as he trails kisses up your legs. Wet and sloppy as his grip on your hips is ironclad.

The camera moves to capture Logan's face. Seeing the primal hunger in his eyes as he grabs the hem of your panties with his teeth, dragging them down. He stands up with them still in his mouth. You grab onto his shirt and rip it open. Raking your nails down his very toned chest. You grab your underwear out of his mouth and toss it to the side.

"Good boy." You purr as you push on his shoulders.

He gets back onto his knees and wastes no time diving into your cunt. You fall back onto the desk as Logan takes you apart with his tongue. Moans and whimpers fall from your lips with ease. There is no need to fake your pleasure with him between your legs.

He's hungry, ravenous. Logan can't get enough. He holds your legs apart, keeping you from closing them as he zeros in on your clit. He's ruthless. Refusing to give you a moment to breathe as he loses himself in your pussy.

"You taste sweeter than I imagined." He growls off script. If he wasn't bringing you to orgasm you'd wonder what he meant by that. You wonder if he watched your videos just like you had.

"Logan!" You moan as your legs start to shake under the intense pleasure.

"That's it teach, let me taste you come on." His dirty mouth makes your head spin.

Your eyes squeezing tight as he pushes you over the edge. You barely even notice the camera as it positions itself over Logan's shoulder. Logan resist the urge to break the damn thing as it gets in his way. He feels a push on his shoulder and he growls. Reluctantly he gets out of the way and uses his thumb to rub your clit.

"I have an idea teach," Logan purrs. He pulls you off the desk. Wrapping an arm around you and grinding his clothed cock against your thigh.

"For every orgasm I can pull out of you, you raise my grade by a letter." He breathes into your neck, inhaling your scent. You sigh as his hands start to grope and squeeze your breasts.

"What do you say?" He grins as he feels you squirm under his touch. He unbuttons your blouse and tosses it to the side. Mouth watering as he buries his face in your breasts.

"You better get to work then Mr. Howlett. You're at a D right now." You turn around and bend over the desk. His hands run along your body before he unbuckles his pants.

"I'll show you a D." He grumbles. You have to stifle a laugh at his words.

The camera moves to show your face as Logan slides his cock inside of you. He throws his head back in pleasure as he gets to feel your tight cunt. Now this is what he was waiting for.

"Come get a shot of this." He whispers to himself.

He drags his cock out slowly. He watches in awe as your cute pussy just sucks him up. Your hands are digging into the desk, clawing at the wood as Logan's massive cock pushes its way in. You knew he was big but to actually feel it in person. Fuck.

"That feel good? You like my big cock hm?" Logan's cocky tone makes you moan as he picks up his pace. He's pummeling your poor pussy with no mercy. Your moans are as real as they can get as you cry and whine with each thrust.

"Logan oh god!" Your eyes cross as his cock hits a sensitive spot.

No one's ever hit that before. You're falling apart. Your chest heaves as you try and catch your breath but your moans quiet down because of it. Logan doesn't like that one bit. You groan as you feel his hand grab your hair. He pulls you up so that your back is arched. His cock somehow pushing its way deeper.

"Come on baby, don't hide from me." He whispers in your ear. He wraps an arm around your chest to hold you up. Your nails dig into his arm to ground yourself.

"Feel so fucking good, jerked myself off last night to your videos." He mumbles so only you can hear. You don't understand how a man can have so much stamina. He doesn't even seem tired.

"So fucking close I can feel it baby. I can feel the way your cunt clenches around my fat cock. I can hear her pulsing for me." His eyes grow dark as he feels you start to lose it.

His rough fingers sliding down to play with your cunt. It's a filthy sight to watch. You've forgotten about the cameras and the crew. The only thing you can feel is Logan. He's taken over your mind, your senses.

"That's it pretty girl." He bites your shoulder and the pain mixes with pleasure.

"Fuck!" You wail as you come hard around his cock. Logan groans in pleasure and comes before he can really stop himself. Filling you up nice and full as you babble incoherently. You can barely get your lines out as you float between the real world and cloud nine.

"You got your C Mr. Howlett." You've never been this wrecked after a scene before but Logan has completely ruined you. You grin at the feeling of his cum seeping out of you.

"You know, I've always wanted an A." He's grinning like the devil as he thrusts his hips once more making you cry out.

He's still fucking hard. He really is every porn studios wet dream. Hot, sexy, can go for round after round. The director calls cut but Logan doesn't let go of you. You've got this dazed look in your eyes and he gently lays you down on the desk.

"You alright?" He grunts as he slips out of you. His cock still standing straight as someone brings him a robe. He grabs a towel from one of the PA's and gently wipes up your legs. You whine as the rough material brushes against your poor pussy.

"Sorry." You just smile in response. You haven't had a fuck this good in a long time. A crew member brings you a robe and you put it on.

"You really know how to use that thing. For a second I thought you were the seasoned professional." You joke as you try and get off the desk. You stumble and Logan is quick to catch you.

"What can I say Sunshine, you made it easy." He flirts. The director calls his name and he rolls his eyes.

"Don't keep him waiting Logan. I'll see you soon." Another crew member comes to help you as Logan lets you go.

Thankfully this was all you had for the week and you could go home and soak in a bath. Your poor legs are going to need it. After signing a few things and getting next weeks shoot list you can finally go home.

"Sunshine, hope I didn't fuck you too good." Logan says with a wink. He's waiting outside of the studio, a cigar in his mouth.

"I regret whatever I said before, your ego is going to get too big." You joke. He shrugs and puts out his cigar on the ground.

"You got any plans?" He asks. Your dressed in normal clothes now, nothing remotely revealing but Logan still thinks you look gorgeous.

"I could take you to lunch, if you're interested." He offers.

You haven't thought about dating since you started working in this industry. You didn't need a partner and it could be hard trying to find one who understood your job. But Logan flashes that handsome smile and for some reason you can't resist.

Maybe your working backwards here. He fucks you and then you go to lunch but hey, nothing about him is conventional anyways.

"Yeah, lunch sounds good."

Its just lunch, you tell yourself. It's only a meal with your hot coworker. If things were to go further though you wouldn't complain. Certainly not when he's as handsome as he is. You definitely wouldn't mind taking him back to your place and you're certainly okay when he promises he can go for more rounds away from the prying eyes of the camera. But for now it's just lunch. He pays and you give him your number.

Logan and you part ways and he prays he sees you again. Not just at work but outside of it too. You've got him hooked. The video gets uploaded and explodes in popularity. Praising how realistic it felt and how hot both of you were. He gets a call from the director, expecting another update on his next shoot.

"Great news man! Sunshine wants to do exclusive shoots with you. Oh this is going to make us so much money." He tunes out the rambling as his phone dings. A smirk appearing on his face when he sees a text with your name pop up.

Want to rehearse our next scene? my place 7pm <3

[fxllfaiiry]

─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.

✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.

✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!

Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 

You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 

You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 

Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 

Like today, you got him some coffee. 

"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 

"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 

"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 

He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 

"This isn't how I like my coffee." 

"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 

"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 

"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 

"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 

"Yeah?" 

"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 

"No."

"Sunflower…"

"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  

"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 

"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 

"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 

But, of course, you were wrong. 

Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 

Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 

If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 

"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 

"I was just tryin-" 

"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 

"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 

"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 

"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 

Don't cry. Don't cry. 

"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 

"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 

"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 

"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 

Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 

"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 

At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 

"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 

"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 

"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.

[aemondtargaryengf]

hii! i hope you’re doing well!!

can i get a jace fic where she’s his younger sister and she’s just really dependent on him, and like follows his around and tried to stay w him while he’s really protective of her especially from the greens

pairings: protective!jace x valeryon(strong)!reader

warnings: not quite angst unless the last line. but the tension is there, fluff i suppose, romantic tension, canon typical incest. if anything else let me know, MAJOR SPOILER FOR FIRE & BLOOD/FUTURE HOTD

word count: 1.8k <3

masterlist

a/n: I am sorry i have been tardy with my promise but here is your much awaited request!!

You liked it here. Laying in bed, reading a book of poems while your mother combed through your hair. Rhaenyra always had a soft spot for her only daughter, caving in and allowing every reasonable whim you had. “Mother” you speak slowly, putting the book down and holding it close to your chest. Rhaenyra stops her gentle movement, looking down at you with fondness, “yes my child”?

“Can we stay here in king’s landing for longer?” you ask, “I do not wish to leave grandsire’s side yet. The maesters do not bring news of improvement any longer and I fear….” You trail off not wanting to word it out loud. Rhaenyra knew of the gravity of her father’s health but she feared the wedge between her children and her half siblings will only give rise to new fights and arguments every day.

“You know we can’t my dove”, she pets your head affectionately, “who will look after Dragonstone with us gone?”

“Please”, you request sitting up and turning your back to face her, “I do not want to risk not being here when he passes away and miss my chance at a last good bye.” Even Rhaenyra couldn’t argue with your words. Your request comes from a place of adoration for your grandfather, he was quite fond of his elder granddaughter, but Rhaenyra also contemplated what can go wrong if she isn’t here for her father’s death. No matter the legitimacy of her being named heir to the throne, she is well aware of the whispers at court, the scheming of the hand and the queen. Aegon Targaryen cannot be king if she is here to take control of the situation.

“It’s settled then” Rhaenyra agrees after a beat of silence. “We shall stay here for as long as you desire.” A smile of gratitude makes its way on your face at your mother’s words and you are quick to embrace her “Thank you mother”. Rhaenyra chuckles, rubbing soothing circles on your back “Now rest my dove, it has been a hectic day.” She leans in to kiss your forehead “sweet dreams”.

You make your way beneath the sheets, head resting comfortably on the pillow “Farewell mother”. With one last look at you Rhaenyra steps out of the room. The door closes softly behind her, letting the dim glow from the candles lull you into sleep.

Morning arrives gently, with sunshine streaming through the windows casting a soft glow in your room. The ladies assigned for your care had let themselves in, rousing you from your sleep and ushering you to the bath to get ready for the day.

The baths at King’s Landing were more majestic than back home. You take your time soaking in the warm water with jasmine oil and rose petals, sighing in pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to get dressed with the help of the ladies and having your breakfast alone, opting for some calm in the morning knowing your brothers and uncles will inevitably destroy any sense of peace in the coming hours.

“I’d like to take a stroll through the keep, alone. Much has changed since I’ve been away.” The guard assigned for your duty only nods at your command as you make your way out of the room. The seven-pointed star glares at your face at every turn you make, a stark contrast to the regal décor the keep had in your childhood.

“Sister! Wait!” comes a voice from your right. You stop turning around only to be faced with a panting Jacaerys. “Brother” you greet with a slight smile “You are up early today” you tease. “I was looking for you” says Jacaerys, ignoring your teasing. “I was wondering if you were alright after last night’s events”.

You slightly wince at the memory of Jace throwing a punch at Aemond and Aegon and Luce starting a brawl of their own. Your cousin Baela even tried jumping only for you to grab her by the waist as you yelled for them to stop.

“I’m alright” you dismiss his worries. “It was just a graze”. Aemond’s elbow had hit you in the cheek causing you to yelp in pain. Aemond’s actions did stop midway not expecting you to be so near and get hurt but it only spurred Jace even more as he landed even stronger punches than before at his uncle’s jaw.

Jace gently reaches a hand up to caress your face. “Its good it didn’t bruise” he thumbs at your cheek, “I’d not let it go if that brute ruined your pretty face”. And there it was again. Jace always had a penchant for using certain choice of words which reddened your face.

“Jace” you warn, “Do not fall prey to our uncle’s provoking. You know both of them only say words to rile us up.” Jace let’s go off your face sighing “I can’t help it if they accuse us of…” Accuse us of what? The Truth?

The somber tone in his voice lets you know of his mood dropping. It was only the start of the day and you will be damned if you let your older brother sulk so early. “I’d like to accompany you to your training if that’s alright with you?” Nothing makes him happier than being able to show off his skills to his younger sister and you are well aware of that. Jace is quick to look at you with shining eyes and agrees to your request.

You follow after him as he excitedly tells you of a new method he learnt from Daemon, smiling at his words and nodding when you think its appropriate to let him know you are attentive. Jace liked having your sole attention on him. It was just you and him in the beginning. His mother told him that the first time he saw you when he was a boy of two, you had looked at him as if he hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. Your crying would only stop if your older brother was there to shush you with his toys. You were the happiest baby when in his presence, trailing behind him like a little duckling, a trait which you still carry. Nothing soothes your nerves like being near Jace.

You watch as Jace spars with a squire. A sheen of sweat on his forehead making him look godly in the late morning sun. “I do not think its fit for a lady to be here niece” comes a chilling voice from right behind you, closer than you’d like that voice to be. “Uncle” you greet, your eyes not wavering from Jace at all, “I think I can go wherever I’d like. The Red Keep is my home as well after all.” Aemond smirks at your reply. Out of all the strong bastards you were his favourite to toy with. The boys were quick to throw punches but the ability to sometimes make you unable to come with a witty response brought him immense satisfaction.

“Hmm” he hums, coming to stand by your side, a little too close for comfort, “I hope my elbow didn’t cause you any harm princess. It would be unfortunate to see your brown eyes blacken from my unintentional hit.” Brown eyes. He emphasized it. He is trying to make you take the bait again. And his backhanded words of comfort and presence did unnerve you more than you’d like to admit.

“If you wish to see how real men train perhaps you should watch me instead of your no good of a brother. He moves like a boy who was gifted a sword a day ago” Aemond whispers in your ear. His breath hitting your skin makes your skin crawl and you shiver in disgust, moving back and putting a distance between yourself. “No thank you” you decline politely. “I prefer my brother over all”. Aemond only gives a sly grin at that, “Even in your bed?” he mocks.

What was stopping you from slapping this bastard from even suggesting such nonsense. You grit your teeth in frustration, almost hitting him yourself when a protective arm wraps around your waist bringing you back into a sturdy chest. “Who my sister brings into her bed is none of your concern dearest uncle” Jace says cooly. “And I suggest you refrain from using certain phrases that will bring the honor of my sister into question” he raises his brows at Aemond challenging him. “I’d hate to dislocate your jaw over some misunderstanding, we are family after all.”

One thing Aemond had learned from the beginning was Jace will never lose a chance to be your protective guard dog. He could hit two birds with one stone by simply choosing to pick on you instead. Why rile up one Strong bastard when you can rile up two? “I’d like to see you try” Aemond grins leaning in to challenge your brother.

“Jace” you whisper, “Don’t.” Aemond chuckles at your warning. “Aww will poor Prince Jace listen to his sister like an obedient mutt?” Jace clenches his jaw at his statement. “He isn’t worth it Jace” you interlock your fingers with Jacaerys’s trying to tug him away. Once you are able to move him from his spot, you lead Jace away and turn to Aemond to give him a disgusting sneer “You’re pathetic.”

Aemond's grin widens, his eye gleaming with amusement as he watches you walk away, Jace's hand still in yours. "Run along, little dove," he calls out mockingly, but you don't look back.

As you and Jace walk through the courtyard, the tension slowly eases from his shoulders. "You shouldn't let him get to you," you whisper, glancing up at him with a reassuring smile. "He only seeks to provoke."

Jace nods, but his grip on your waist tightens protectively. "I won't let him hurt you," he promises, his voice low and determined. "Not ever." You squeeze his hand, drawing strength from his presence. "I know, Jace. I know." You kiss his cheek gently hoping to calm him “No one can hurt me with you breathing down my neck” you giggle trying to lighten the mood.

He rests his chin on top of your head. “I won’t let any harm come to you ever. No one can hurt you.” His arms squeeze around your waist.

You always felt restless without Jace, and nothing brought you more comfort than being in his arms. You never have to worry about being safe with your brother around.

But years later when you crumble at the sight of the body of Jacaerys Velaryon with an arrow through his neck, no one is prepared for the wail of anguish that leaves your throat at not having your Jacaerys beside you anymore.

[donat-senpai]

I enjoy ur Moamao x reader x jinshi series! I would love a part 3!

Hi, sunshine. Thank you! Appreciate the feedback 💙 (I haven’t replied to requests this fast in a while lmao). Part 3 is ready :3

Yandere!Maomao X Reader X Yandere!Jinshi Please don't read this if you are uncomfortable with the yandere! tw: Jealousy (nothing special anymore) I think this time, more attention was given to Jenshi. I'll try to write about Maomao next time. She's a sunshine and also deserves her happy time with the reader! (ﾉ･ω･)ﾉ

Part one, Part two, Part three

Minute of glory

— You want me to take part in the play? — you ask Jinshi in complete confusion. A thought creeps into your mind: has he lost his mind? As if agreeing with your thoughts, he gives you a confirming nod.

— You know I was assigned to organize the play. This performance is extremely important because the order comes almost directly from the Emperor. Everything has to be perfect. After all, it's a gift from the Emperor to the entire harem. There are only a couple of days left before the performance, but something happened that we weren’t prepared for. A few actors fell ill. Their roles are minor, but still crucial. We can't just remove them from the script, — Jinshi patiently explains the situation while your brain struggles to process it. He looks truly exhausted and tense. Organizing the event must have drained him. You start to feel a bit sorry for him, yet you still can't understand why he came to you with such a request.

— Just replace them with other actors.

— That’s impossible. All the actors are already involved, — Jinshi glanced at Gaoshun, who immediately joined the conversation.

— We also considered casting one of the concubines for the role, but one of the Emperor’s requirements was to keep the play’s storyline a secret until the main performance. We’re not sure whether the chosen concubine would be able to maintain that secrecy.

After Gaoshun’s words, things became a little clearer. You exchanged glances with Maomao. She had been quietly listening the whole time, stirring a mixture with a wooden spoon.

Jinshi took your hand in his and pressed it against his chest. The spoon in Maomao’s hand let out a desperate crack.

— Please, don’t refuse. I don’t know anyone else suited for this role whom I trust as much as you. I promise, everything will go smoothly. I’ll be right there with you. All we need to do is step onto the stage and perform a short dialogue. There’s still time before the performance. We can rehearse, — with each sentence, Jinshi moved closer. You barely noticed, too distracted by your own anxiety.

Performing in such an important play, in front of everyone—it was nerve-wracking. Oh, Emperor! What if you forgot your lines? But Jinshi was so serious, so certain that he would be by your side. Surely, he would help if anything went wrong. Your heart slowly softened. You wanted to help him.

— What’s the role?

— Lovers.

His answer struck like thunder in a clear sky. A loud crack echoed in the room. The poor spoon — it seems to have broken. You cursed internally. You should have suggested Maomao for the role instead. Such a golden opportunity, wasted.

---

You stand on an improvised stage set up in one of the large halls. A couple of eunuchs are busy checking the props. The main cast has gone on a lunch break. Jinshi said that the two of you should practice a few times on your own before joining the final rehearsal with everyone else later today.

Tense, you try to discreetly wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt. You can’t even imagine how you’re supposed to act. You’ve never experienced anything like this before. Unfortunately, no one thought to teach you acting skills between rounds of physical labor. The harem really should reconsider its system.

Right now, you’d gladly trade places with Maomao — not just for the sake of her and Jinshi’s bright future, but for your own peace of mind. You cast a helpless glance at the makeshift audience area. Maomao gives you an encouraging smile, trying to cheer you up. Gaoshun nods approvingly and gives you a thumbs-up. Your attention shifts back to Jinshi, who is patiently waiting. He’s too kind to pressure you, letting you take your time. You promised to help. There’s no turning back now.

Blushing slightly and taking a deep breath, you finally begin to say your lines.

— Ah, my beloved! Is fate not cruel? We come from different worlds! — you sigh dramatically, crossing your arms over your chest.

— Fate? I won’t let destiny decide for us! — With a sly smile, the man takes your hand and leans in, his lips almost brushing against your fingers.

To your surprise, Jinshi slips into his role effortlessly, as if he’s been acting his whole life. Watching his confident performance, you start to relax, feeling a little bolder.

— But what will people say?! What will my father say?! — You pull your hand away, turning your back to him, clenching your fists. Jinshi gently turns you back toward him, reaching for your chin and tilting your face up.

— Let them say what they will… You are all I need.

Maomao, watching the rehearsal, takes a hurried sip of tea, trying to hide the nervous twitch on her face. Was this cursed scene supposed to be this intense?

She knew. She felt it. No actor had actually fallen ill. That wretched eunuch had planned everything from the very start.

— Then… then kiss me, if your feelings are true! — you said, your lips trembling.

Jinshi smiles broadly and slowly leans in closer, enjoying the way Maomao grips her cup tighter. Gaoshun nervously swallows. It seemed like, any moment now, the apothecary might start killing. At the last second, you place your palm on Jinshi's face and suddenly pull back.

— No! I can't! — you cry out dramatically.

Maomao exhales in relief. Jinshi laughs, throwing a brief glance at her. With feigned regret, he delivers the final line.

— What a pity… I really tried so hard.

The eunuchs, who had abandoned their work somewhere during your rehearsal, suddenly clap. They enthusiastically mention that the passion between the lovers was played out so convincingly. Encouraged by their praise, you bow to them gratefully. As you finish, Jinshi places his hand on your shoulder.

— You did wonderfully… So, shall we do it again?

You mentally apologize to Maomao, feeling regret. How did it happen that you stole her shining moment? A crack of glass is heard. The poor cup… It seems to have broken.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

wish lantern rewrite

I can’t be the only one that wishes we had actually traveled to a new location… that we had learned about a new culture and holiday… that Riddle had actually had more character development in Wish Lantern instead of being cooped up in the library, being forced to play pretend princess in order to get out, and give like maybe a handful of lines max in the second half of the event 😭 What we ended up getting was fun too, but I keep thinking about the missed opportunities and how great this story event could have been.

If Twst won’t give it to me then I will have to cook my own food 😤

Here’s how I would write Wish Lantern if I was in the Twst writing room:

Since Riddle is the SSR, I feel the story and its set-up should center him. I’m thinking maybe he’s invited to (or told by his mother to attend) some kind of conference or event in the Kingdom of Heroes or the Sunshine Lands for aspiring medical mages. Let’s say it is being held in the same place where the story of the Princess in the Tower originated because the Sundrop flower mentioned in the tale has miraculous healing properties (and the city/kingdom has since become known for its medical advances).

Riddle is uneasy about going there by himself (the implication being that this event is set after book 1 and, more specifically after book 6, when Riddle expresses to Azul he has been considering pursuing law instead of magic medicine/the career his mother chose for him). Maybe he mentions this unease around Deuce, that he feels obligated to go because “Mother knows best… She has always known what is best for me, hasn’t she?” It could even be in the library. Say that Riddle is brushing up for the conference and happens to run into him, who is looking for a book to help with completing an assignment. After listening to Riddle’s woes, Deuce, being one of the people who knows about his dorm leader’s complicated feelings toward his mother and finding his own independence, offers to come along as emotional support.

As for how Jack gets involved, he’s Deuce’s club member. Maybe he overhears Riddle talking about sports medicine or panels presented by medical mages who work with athletes, or Deuce mentions it in a club meeting. Jack becomes interested because he’s the type of person that’s always looking for ways to enhance his training and to learn more about this subject.

Kalim can either join because he's conveniently in the library + wants to learn more about poisons and antidotes (on his own self-development journey to be more self-sufficient instead of relying on Jamil all the time) or because the Asims are sponsors of the event and he gets a free invite through his Rich Privilege.

Use the usual "Grim overhears and whines until he and Yuu get invited to go along" excuse or maybe have Yuu and Grim come because they, too, want to be emotional support for Riddle. (They could have heard from Deuce?) With that, we have all of the main characters for this event assembled.

Even though this is a rewrite, I'm going to try and follow the conventions of OTHER "hometown" events. That means most of this rewritten event will be exploring the new area, learning about its customs and traditions, souvenir shopping, and sampling food. This would be a great chance to, of course, throw in Tangled references. Because I proposed that this event be focused on a conference for aspiring medical mages, we can also learn more lore about what medical technology and practices exist in Twisted Wonderland and how magic has played a part in advancing medicine.

So it turns out, there's a festival going on in the area at the same time as the conference. That's because there's a holiday in this kingdom that celebrates the Princess in the Tower finding her way home by following a trail of lanterns. Since the conference doesn't start until the next day, we can go out and enjoy the festivities! (Riddle can be hesitant at first, but the others convince him to loosen up.)

The new outfits + hair can be explained away as part of local traditions. Everyone is provided with a potion that lengthens their hair so they can emulate the Princess in the Tower. Or maybe there can be a potion-making station, and length still correlates with the skill at which you were able to brew it. (In this version, the hair lengthening potion isn't made with super rare ingredients; it is something easily accessible for even non-mages to brew and can be made cheaply.) YES, THAT MEANS WE GET LONG HAIR GRIM.

Local specialties could include dishes mentioned or depicted in Tangled, like hazelnut soup (Rapunzel's favorite).

HERE ARE SOME CUTE INTERACTION IDEAS BASED ON RAPUNZEL'S OWN EXPERIENCES IN CORONA: the gang doing chalk drawings and clowning on each other's artistic abilities (or lack thereof), trying out cupcakes (the reasoning being that they're "single servings" so it's okay for Riddle to indulge), exploring bookshops, painting on the walls, and everyone joining in a big group dance! (For the dance, maybe there’s a competition to see who can drag in the most bystanders into the dance and Riddle gradually finds his footing in that + is crowned the winner?) There could even be a tavern that pays homage to The Snuggly Duckling.

While we're out having fun, there should be a consistent pattern of Riddle having to be convinced that it's okay to be participating in these activities. He feels that he should be focusing on studying for the conference, but the others are there to reassure him it's okay to take breathers.

"You won't perform at your best if you're always at 100%. In terms of a workout, you'd be asking to pull a muscle if you push yourself to exercise without end." (Jack)

"Mmm? But how often are we going to be in [name of city]? We're here now, so we might as well experience everything that's here!! The food, the music, the games, the people... You can't find that anywhere but here." (Kalim)

"I get the importance of preparation, but I'm kind of curious about the celebration that's going on. If Rosehearts-senpai wants to study, then he should do that. I'd feel bad exploring the city without him, though... He might miss out." (Deuce)

"Shouldn't you at least grab some grub first? I'm pretty hungry too! Let's check out the food stalls!" (Grim, maybe Yuu can also get a dialogue option)

At some point, the group decides to browse and buy souvenirs. They discuss who they are shopping for and come upon the subject of family. Kalim and Jack want to buy stuff for their siblings and Deuce thinks his mom might appreciate a locally made handkerchief with the kingdom's sun emblem on it. (As a trucker, Dylla often drives for long hours so she might find use in a handkerchief to wipe her forehead.) Yuu and Grim can also bring up potentially getting something for the Ramshackle Ghosts, who are like their found family.

Riddle becomes visibly uncomfortable when the topic of family is brought up. Everyone else sounds so happy talking about theirs, but he has no idea what a happy family is supposed to be like. Deuce (and maybe Yuu + Grim too) realizes why Riddle is uncomfortable and quickly apologize. Kalim and Jack, who aren't familiar with Riddle's background or his attempts to speak with his mother over winter break, are a little confused but the others feel it's not their place to explain why and Riddle doesn't know them well enough to elaborate on personal matters. (Here, Jack and Kalim serve as an in-universe reason to keep his family history vague so as to not spoil people who haven't gotten that far in the main story yet, but the awkwardness is palpable enough to imply something is wrong to serve the narrative of the event story.)

Now, "hometown" events tend to introduce a new character, typically a family member, to us. However, the new characters are not those who appear as the "trauma source" for the respective OB boy. (For example, Falena was not the character introduced to us in Tamashina Mina/Cloudcalling on the Savanna and we met Kifaji instead.) Following this trend, we will not be encountering Mrs. Rosehearts but rather MR. Rosehearts.

I realize that we don't have a ton of lore about Riddle's dad yet so everything I write about his personality is completely headcanon (primarily based on the personality of the King of Hearts). The only things that are canon in this depiction is that 1) Mr. Rosehearts is a medical mage like his wife is and 2) Mr. Rosehearts does not have a happy marriage with his wife.

Anyway, we run into Mr. Rosehearts out in the city. Turns out that he is one of the presenters at the conference and he was supposed to meet and receive Riddle. He's a quiet and slightly anxious man but overall is kind to his son (though we should get the impression that Mr. Rosehearts isn't good with confrontation and folds easily).

Maybe have a part where Mr. Rosehearts is surprised that Riddle has friends because uh... the last time he recalls his son having friends, it was because his wife ranted at them for 5 hours and banned them from their home. But hey, he's chill about it and promises Riddle this can stay between them and he won't tell his mom. Could insert a line or two that implies that the winter break talk didn't go over well. (This is just my headcanon, but you could also stick in a line that insinuates that the Rosehearts parents don't just outright divorce because Riddle's mom can't deal with the potential social fallout + realizing that she is "wrong" in her marriage.)

Every "hometown" event thus far has presented us with some kind of minor external conflict to be resolved. In this case, Riddle's conflict is more internal. He's wrestling with what he wants to do with his future and trying to cope with the reality that his mother isn't the loving, "always correct" woman he thought she was. This, of course, mirrors Rapunzel's struggle with Mother Gothel, who tries to keep her in the tower and doing as she commands.

We finally make our way to our quarters for the night (Riddle has his own room; everyone else has to share one), perhaps in tall tower to mimic Rapunzel's home with Gothel. Riddle knows he should retire early because the conference is first thing tomorrow, but he admits to everyone that after spending time in the city, he has become curious about the tradition of releasing thousands of wish lanterns into the night sky. It happens pretty late in the day though, so he brushes it off and says they should sleep.

... But the others get really hype about Riddle "finally getting into the spirit of the holiday" and decide they should see the lanterns!! The only problem is, Riddle is locked in his hotel room for the night. There could be a local superstition, tradition, or security reason for this. Like maybe due to the story of the Princess in the Tower (and Gothel locking her up), people who are indoors at a certain time of night can't leave until the next day?? Or maybe Mrs. Rosehearts had prepared Riddle's room for him in advance and instructed staff to ensure he doesn't leave because she has been paranoid about him "breaking the rules" again after the tart incident. I don't know, pick your reason.

YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS??? It's time for Jack, Deuce, Kalim, Grim, and Yuu to be Riddle's Flynn Rider + animal companions to break Riddle out. Our group represents the freedom and childhood wonders Riddle missed out on, the antithesis to Mrs. Rosehearts'/Mother Gothel's control. I can see Riddle using his long hair to hoist himself down, Jack using his UM to help everyone race to the water in time to catch the lanterns, Deuce being the muscle if they run into any thugs, Kalim using his social skills to quickly befriend the locals and ask for directions to the best vantage point or using his $$$ to rent the group a rowboat, etc.

We can keep the rhythmic/twistune from the original version of this event where Kalim, Deuce, and Jack were able to safely descend using Riddle’s hair but Riddle hesitates before he’s able to get himself to follow. The reason is the same; he worries about breaking the rules and how his mother would disapprove of him leaving the home. Riddle wonders if the Princess in the Tower felt the same, but ultimately his friends convince him it’s fine (by baiting him with the rules). He will be trapped in this tower forever if he doesn’t summon his strength and take the leap. If not now, then when? When will my life begin? “There are people waiting for me outside, so… it must be okay for me to leave. Right… Mother?”

Riddle keeps nagging everyone about how many rules and social norms they're breaking, but eventually he loosens up and even laughs a little at some of the dumb things they do. We can maybe have him thinking, This is just like… and then flashback to his childhood days with Trey and Chenya.

They're out on the waters just in time to see the lanterns being released. Alternatively, the even runners could be having trouble lighting up all the lanterns or something so Riddle has the opportunity to help with that (this way, we’d still get the other rhythmic/twistune featured in the original event). That particular rhythmic/twistune ends on Riddle with five lanterns floating overhead, which I think could be important symbolism (five lanterns -> five mentions of Heartslabyul).

It's beautiful. Everyone oohs and aahs at the sight--most of all, Riddle. He can say something like... "This city is known for its many contributions to magic medicine. I know that, and yet... I don't believe any magic or medicine could replicate what I am feeling in this very moment." There is some part of Riddle that acknowledges the healing and therapeutic properties of just... being allowed to have freedom, of allowing himself to live in the present and not stress about the rules or gearing up for a future someone else has decided for him all the time. He just doesn't know how to fully verbalize it + has not fully come to terms with it yet, so this is how he expresses it. At last, he sees the light.

While the new location they travel to + the conference provide us with the backdrop of medicine and health for this rewrite, I think there’s also something to be implied about the injuries we don’t see, the pain inflicted that isn’t physical. Both Riddle and Rapunzel were trapped in towers but were also emotionally controlled and prevented from leaving/made scared or the world and disobeying their mothers. When Riddle sees the lanterns, it’s sort of a “wake up” sign to his soul, a reminder of how healing it can be to just… live by one’s own terms, to not be ruled over by fear of disappointing someone else or failing to meet expectations. Rapunzel and Riddle bear scars on their heart from having been raised in the households that they were, and it is seeing the lanterns in-person that helps to “heal” what hurts them.

Riddle recalls the story of the Princess in the Tower and how she made a wish to see the lanterns, so now people make wishes upon these lanterns before releasing them into the sky. He lets go of his own lantern and wishes that, someday, he can be like the Princess in the Tower and this lantern floating up to the sky… and follow his own Road to Freedom.

Everyone sneaks back into their rooms and rest for the day. Uhhh, and there can be a scene of slicing off their hair for tomorrow. Riddle can talk about how the Princess grew her hair long because her mother told her to, but that it must have been cumbersome to walk like this. This way, by cutting off the hair like how the Princess does at the end of her story, it's a liberating act.

It doesn't matter what happens at the conference because what was important was the experiences Riddle had with his friends leading up to it. At most, maybe we see Mr. Rosehearts again while heading to the venue and they have a brief exchange where Riddle lets it slip he's a little tired. "That's so unlike you," Mr. Rosehearts remarks. "Well," Riddle replies with a small smile, "I am a growing young man, after all. I am changing every day."

I want to be clear that this does NOT mean Riddle has had a full character arc to come to terms with how he was raised. He would NOT feel 100% okay with rebelling against his mother by the end of this (hypothetical) event. The point of my version of Wish Lantern isn't to empower Riddle to fistfight Mrs. Rosehearts or to tell her off. The point is that it's supposed to be a small step in helping Riddle through the very complicated process of recognizing he was traumatized and/or abused, accepting that reality, and learning about how he can grow from it and his abuser (who is someone he thought he loved and could trust). This can take YEARS to process in the real world, and it would probably be similar to Riddle. Again, this is meant to be a SINGLE STEP he takes, NOT THE ENTIRE JOURNEY.

So in my rewrite, the event would be split up like this:

Episode 1: invitation to the event; gathering all the relevant characters, hopping through the mirror

Episode 2: arrival in the new location and having fun in the area

Episode 3: souvenir shopping, meeting Riddle's dad

Episode 4: retiring to room, changing mind and deciding to break out instead

Episode 5: seeing the lights, ending

As you can see, the structure is very similar to a traditional "hometown" event. I didn't want to stray too far from Twst's usual writing conventions, as it could mess with the cohesion with the rest of its story events. I did, however, try to change things up a little (like having an internal conflict instead of an external one) and tied in this (hypothetical) story with Riddle's overarching character development, as those are elements that I personally prefer in a story. I realize that the biggest change here is tying my rewrite much more strongly to the main story than similar events have 💦 BUT LET ME HAVE THIS, I think I cooked 😭

... What Wish Lantern could have been OTL Don’t get me wrong, though!! The version we did get wasn’t all bad. There was lore about the NRC library, lots of involvement from the staff, and fun character interactions with the whole student cast. I just feel like those could have all been used for a different event and not the Tangled one which could have been so much more interesting for Riddle and his character.

[prythiansprincess]

agora hills.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: agora hills by doja cat.

author's note: as always, this unhinged fic idea started in chlo and i's endless chats about these pesky men. enzo has a special place in my heart because he's so golden retriever sunshine (don't be fooled by that face though he's filthy).

Enzo Berkshire was your best friend. 

Despite what your friends seemed to think, the relationship between you two had always been strictly platonic. Perhaps it was easy to misinterpret your actions as romantic. After all, you and Enzo were very touchy and affectionate people. It was typical of you two to hold hands in the halls, cuddle in the common room, and even share the occasional cheek or forehead kiss, which you deemed completely normal. This type of behavior has been the standard since you were eleven years old. 

Still, you weren’t blind. You knew your best friend was attractive. Enzo had always been handsome in your eyes, but then fourth year rolled around and everyone else started to notice it too. To be fair, he had grown at least a foot over the summer and quidditch definitely helped him pack on lean muscle. Needless to say, girls flocked to him like a swarm of bees to honey, but he never really seemed interested in any of them. Not that you were paying attention. It was a natural thing to notice when you spent every waking moment with someone. 

The point of the matter was that you had absolutely no romantic feelings for Enzo whatsoever. Or so you thought. Until the bloody dream that flipped your friendship on its head. 

It was a normal day. You and Enzo were studying in your dorm like you usually did after class. Enzo was sprawled out on the rug scribbling away for his assignment on Ancient Runes. You were on your bed reading up on History of Magic. You knew you should be focusing since there would be a test tomorrow, but the chapter was boring and you were absolutely knackered from attending classes all day. 

Before you knew it, you were fully knocked out. A part of you was aware that you were dreaming, but the surreality of it blurred the lines of reality. 

In your dreams, you were still in your room studying with Enzo. Except your best friend was no longer hunched over his homework on your rug. Now Enzo was standing at the edge of your bed, blocking out the afternoon sun. You stared up in confusion as he took the book from your hands. 

“Enz? What are you doing?” 

Enzo stared intently at you, his soft hazel eyes flickering down to your lips. It was a little like being hit with a beam of sunshine. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he ran his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“I want to try something.”

You held your breath as Enzo leaned over. The bed dipped from his weight as you sat frozen in place. He rubbed soothing circles along your wrist, causing you to melt into his touch. It was a familiar sensation, one that always calmed you down but right at that moment, you felt anything but. The beat of your heart echoed so loudly that you were sure he could hear it. 

Enzo leaned in close, his face mere inches away from yours. He stroked your cheek gently. “I want to kiss you,” he murmured, the low whisper of his voice conjuring goosebumps along your arms. “Can I?”

You blinked, swallowing thickly. He was so close that you could smell the woodsy smell of his cologne, combined with a hint of fresh laundry and citrus. 

“Yes,” you responded breathily. 

Before you could think better of it, Enzo was kissing you. It was soft and sweet, his kisses gentle while he tested the waters. The quick little pecks soon evolved into deeper kisses as your body responded to his touch. Your hands moved outside of your own volition, fingers tangling in Enzo’s hair as you pulled him closer. He groaned and tilted your head back for a better angle, your bodies pressed close together and radiating heat underneath your clothes. 

Enzo scooted back on the headboard and pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss. You gasped when his hands roamed underneath your skirt, gripping your thighs so that you were fully settled over his length. What started as a sweet innocent kiss escalated into a full on heated makeout session. Kissing till your lips were swollen. Moaning into each other’s mouths. Grasping at every inch of skin the two of you could reach. 

When you felt him grind his hardness against your backside, you gasped. Enzo took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, swirling and sucking until you were panting above him. 

“Y/N,” he grunted huskily. “I need you.”

The desperation in Enzo’s voice made you shudder. You didn’t even think twice before unbuckling his belt and tugging his boxers down. Enzo groaned as he stroked himself, pulling your panties to the side. You whimpered as he teased his tip at your entrance. 

“I want you so fucking bad.”

“I want you too, Enzo.”

Friendship be damned, Enzo gripped your hips and watched as you sank into him. His eyes rolled back when he felt your warmth and wetness hug around his cock. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “Gods, you feel so fucking good. Better than I imagined.”

You clenched at his words and he inhaled sharply before rolling your hips to set the pace. Once you established a steady rhythm, Enzo pinned you with his lust blown gaze and watched as you rode him. He lavished you with sloppy kisses, stopping every now and then to moan into your mouth while you continued rolling your hips against him. 

“That’s it, princess. Feels good, yeah? Keep rolling your hips just like that,” Enzo said, thrusting upwards to fuck into you. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Just as Enzo hit that perfect spot, your eyes flew open. 

You were startled to find yourself back in your dorm, warm, sweaty, and alone in bed. You nearly fell off altogether when you found Enzo still sitting on the rug below you. While you were dreaming about doing filthy things with him, Enzo was completely oblivious and focused on studying. Like you should’ve been. 

Enzo perked up, concern written all over his face when he saw how flushed you were. He immediately rushed over to your side. Your cheeks were so red that he thinks you might be running a fever. Enzo pressed the back of his hand against your forehead and you bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning. 

“You’re burning up, Y/N.” Enzo sounded genuinely worried. If only he knew the reason why you currently shared the same temperature as the common room fireplace. “Maybe I should walk you over to the infirmary?” 

“No!” Your voice echoed shrilly in your dorm, causing you to wince. “I’m fine. I just…I just need fresh air.”

“Oh good, I’ll come walk with you.”

“No,” you said rather harshly. Enzo frowned. “I, uh, I think I should go alone.”

Now Enzo was truly perturbed. He pouted at your refusal. Why didn’t you want him to come? You always walked around the Black Lake together. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?” 

He squinted at you, hoping to catch your gaze. You completely avoided looking him in the eyes before scrambling out of bed. 

“I’m fine, really. I’ll see you later, Enz.”

You were out the door before Enzo even had a chance to respond. 

You were acting like a bloody idiot. 

After that unfortunate afternoon, you spent the next few days avoiding Enzo. The dream had completely flustered you. It was impossible to be in the same room as your best friend. You couldn’t even look Enzo in the eyes without thinking of him being inside of you.  

More than that, it was making you rethink your entire friendship. You adored Enzo. He had been a constant in your life since first year. The two of you were inseparable and he was pretty much the most important person in your life. You had never once thought about him in a sexual manner, but obviously you were attracted to him given the filthy thoughts that flooded your mind like a plague. 

You were praying to Merlin that this stupid little lapse of yours would pass and take all the hormone addled aftereffects with it. Perhaps it was just lack of physical affection that was causing you to think this way. After all, you had broken up with your last boyfriend months ago. There was the casual hookup every now and then, but those never really satisfied you in the way that you wanted. It certainly wasn’t anything like how Enzo had been in your dream. 

As you cataloged and compared your most recent stints, the intrusive thought slipped in without warning. There were no secrets between you and Enzo, so you knew that it had been awhile since he hooked up with anyone else too. Come to think of it, except for a couple flings here and there, Enzo has never really had a serious relationship. 

You never really thought much about it. It wasn’t like you were running headfirst into commitment either, but now you couldn’t help but wonder why Enzo had never had a girlfriend. Were relationships just not his cup of tea? If so, why the bloody hell not?

By the time you had unraveled that string, Pansy was snapping her fingers in front of your face. You shook your head and rejoined the present. Before your little spiral, you and Pansy had been discussing the homework for Charms. 

Your friend narrowed her eyes on you. “Alright, spill,” Pansy said. “There’s clearly something on your mind.”

You peered around the common room. For the most part, it was empty. Only a few of the other Slytherins lingered in your midst, but one could never be too careful in the viper’s nest. 

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you leaned closer to Pansy and spoke in a low voice. “Have you ever had a dream about one of the guys?”

Pansy leaned back on the velvet emerald couch with an expression of intrigue. “What kind of dream?”

“You know,” you urged, picking at the cushion in your lap. “The sexual kind.”

She shook her head, her glossy bob shimmering in the faint light. “No, I can’t say that I have.” 

“I have!” Theo said cheerfully as he plopped down between you. His presence startled you, but he looked utterly unperturbed as he butted into the conversation. “About both of you, actually.”

You wrinkled your nose and smacked him on the arm. “Gross, Theo.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Pansy said with a look of disgust.

Theo was deeply offended by it all. “What? I’ll have you know that I was very loving and gentle,” you groaned and made a gagging sound. “I also had one about Reg and that one wasn’t as gentle, if you know what I mean.”

He grinned cheekily, which only made you lament further. Pansy shook her head in disbelief. “Really, Regulus? He’s the human equivalent of a grumpy black cat. All the first years are terrified of him.”

Theo shrugged. “What can I say? I’m into that. All that surliness and those curls, y’know…”

It was Pansy’s turn to smack him. “For Salazar’s fucking sake, shut it, Theodore. I want to know who Y/N had a dream about.”

“Was it Riddle?” Theo prompted.

“Which one?”

“Mattheo, obviously. Tom looks like he hasn’t had a woman’s touch in years.”

“That’s mean!” you cut in. “I’m telling Tom you said that.”

“Please don’t. I value my life, thank you very much.”

Pansy scoffed. “It’s not either one of the Riddles then.”

“Was it me?” asked Theo. 

“Gods, no.”

He rolled his eyes in response. “It can’t be Blaise because him and Pans are shagging on the daily.” Theo’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me it’s Malfoy.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“But he’s close, right?” Pansy said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. You nodded weakly. She gasped. “Oh my god, Berkshire? Really?”

You buried your face in your hands. You were truly going to die of embarrassment. Pansy continued with her assessment. “Well, you two are practically attached at the hip, so it makes sense. Still, I truly didn’t expect it to be Enzo. He’s so sweet, I just can’t see him that way.”

The shit-eating grin on Theo’s face made you cringe. “Was it good? It had to be, right? Is that why you’ve been avoiding him all week?” 

“What? I haven’t been avoiding him.”

“Sure you have,” declared Theo. “Berkshire’s all broken up about it. Thinks he’s done something to upset you. The whole time you’ve been nursing filthy little fantasies about sweet baby boy Enzo. Oh, I can’t wait to tell the guys about this.”

Panic seized you and Theo yelped as you held his arm in a death grip. “You can’t say a fucking word, Theo. Do you hear me? It’s already humiliating enough to have a sex dream about my best friend. I will literally murder you if you tell any of the boys.”

Theo sighed. “Fine, I won’t tell. Now let go of me, woman.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Pansy. “You can’t keep avoiding Enzo forever.”

You sighed. You were completely and utterly at a loss. Pansy was right. Enzo was already starting to suspect something and you felt bad that he thought he’d done something to upset you when you were the one in the wrong. How could you possibly act normal after all of this?

“Maybe you should ask him if he’s ever thought about you that way,” Theo suggested. “That way the ball’s in his court.” 

You scoffed. “I’m supposed to just come up to him and casually ask, Hey Enz, have you ever had a sex dream about me that was so filthy that you couldn’t make eye contact for days after?” 

“I guarantee you the answer will be yes.”

As you chided Theo for being his usual ridiculous self, Pansy discretely nudged you. Enzo rounded the corner and waved at the three of you. Theo and Pansy shared a look before leaving you to your own devices. Bloody traitors. 

Enzo was unbothered by their sudden departure. “Hi, love. I haven’t seen you all week. You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?” 

His tone was light and playful, but it still made you nervous as all hell. “No, not at all,” you internally cringed at the forced cheeriness in your voice. “I’ve just been…busy. Yeah, that’s it. No other reason.”

For Salazar’s fucking sake. You were horrible at this. Lying to Enzo wasn’t something you were used to. 

Enzo nodded. “Okay, well we’re still on for movie night, right?” 

“Oh, yeah, about that—“

“It shouldn't be a problem,” he added thoughtfully, shooting you a cheeky grin. “Unless you’re actually avoiding me.”

Fuck. Your mind was screaming at you to say no. To make up some lame excuse. To do something other than gape at Enzo. 

Unfortunately, your brain decided to stop working as soon as those dimples of his made an appearance. Merlin’s bloody beard, you truly needed to get a grip. 

You forced yourself to smile back so he wouldn’t think anything was amiss. “”I was just going to ask what snacks you wanted.”

“Just you,” Enzo said, his grin growing wider. Did his voice suddenly sound deeper than it had a few seconds ago? No, it was likely just your delusion. “That’s all I need.”

Later that night, Enzo arrived with the projector and a handful of movie choices. You spent the entire afternoon pacing and working yourself into a fit. He was entirely unaware of the cloud of anxiety hanging over you as he loaded up your favorite movie. 

Your dorm had never felt as cramped as it did at this moment. Enzo plopped down on your bed. The scene of the crime. You climbed in on the other end and resigned yourself to sitting perfectly upright and rigid while he made himself comfortable. Enzo looked at you strangely. Usually, the two of you would be cuddling. 

“What are you doing all the way over there?” Enzo asked, spreading his arms out. “Come cuddle.”

You sighed internally. This felt like tempting fate, but what could you do? If you refused, Enzo would definitely know that something was up. As slow as a snail, you scooted closer to his side. He took one look at you and shook his head before hauling you over to him. Besides being manhandled, the position was quite familiar. You tucked against his side, head resting on his shoulder while he nuzzled his cheek against your hair. 

Enzo pressed play and you started to relax while the movie unfolded. The peace didn’t last for long. As the opening scene played, Enzo absentmindedly tugged at the hem of your shirt. Again, his affectionate nature wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Yet you couldn’t help but hold your breath as he rubbed soothing circles against your hip. While the gesture usually comforted you, it had the opposite effect now. 

“You’re so tense, love,” Enzo murmured. His voice sounded so deep and delicious.

“It’s been a stressful week.”

“I bet.” 

You shuddered as he trailed his fingers over your spine, drawing patterns along your skin. Temptation wasn’t knocking at your door. It was kicking it down altogether. Enzo shifted, brushing his knuckles just below the hook of your bra. 

“This can’t be comfortable,” he said, hooking a finger around the band. “Maybe you’ll feel more relaxed with it off. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” 

There was no time to analyze what the fuck was going on. All of your efforts were spent solely on fighting the urge to moan. Enzo toyed with the band, waiting for your answer. 

“Yeah,” you said breathily. “I think—I think you’re right.”

“Course I am. Let me take it off for you then, yeah?” 

“Okay.” 

Enzo unhooked your bra with a flick of his fingers. Almost like he had long mastered the art and this was merely just child’s play. He helped you shrug out of your bra and carelessly tossed it to the side. You sighed softly as Enzo switched to long, purposeful strokes. He started at your hips, then your stomach, gradually moving up until he was barely an inch away from the underside of your breasts. Your eyes fluttered close, completely lost to his touch. They opened again when Enzo nuzzled his nose against yours. 

“Hi,” he said with a smile. 

“Hi,” you whispered. “What are we doing, Enzo?” 

“Nothing that I haven’t thought about a million times over.”

“You’ve thought about me like this?” 

“I’m always thinking about you,” Enzo admitted. “Sometimes it’s just cuddling or holding hands. Just sweet stuff cause I love touching you like this, but other times…other times I dream about you like you dreamt about me.”

Your breath hitched. “You know about my dream?” 

“I heard you in the common room earlier.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I don’t know what came over me. That’s why I haven’t talked to you much this week. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Enzo took your hand and slid it down the front of his gray sweatpants. You gasped when you felt how hard he was against your palm. “Do I feel uncomfortable to you, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t trust yourself with words at the moment. Enzo nuzzled against you, littering soft little kisses in his wake. He pecked and nipped at your neck, your collarbone, your jaw. 

“You drive me fucking mad, you know that? I want you so badly I’d literally get on my knees and beg if you asked.”

The tension was too much for you to bear. You pulled him in by the front of his shirt and pressed your lips against his. Enzo groaned into your mouth. The hand underneath your shirt crawled up until he was cupping your tits, rubbing his thumb over your nipples. Enzo tried to keep the kisses soft. He intended to savor it, but every ounce of self control went out the window the second he heard you moan. 

Enzo flipped you over so that you were straddling his lap. He looked down and realized that you were wearing one of his old shirts and the sight of it made him even harder. The tiny shorts you were wearing was a pesky little barrier, but it didn’t stop him from grinding his hardness against your ass. He tugged at the hem of your shirt. 

“Take this off, right now. I need to feel you, pretty girl.”

He watched as you peeled off the shirt. Enzo did the same, tossing both articles of clothing over the side of your bed. He groaned at the skin to skin contact. Enzo smiled as he drank it all in. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“You’re not bad to look at either, Enz.”

Enzo chuckled. “Cheeky girl. Come on, then. Shorts off too.”

You took off your shorts as Enzo slipped out of his sweatpants and boxers. He kissed you again, sloppy, filthy, and downright obscene. There was plenty of panting and groping as the two of you explored each other’s bodies. Enzo practically purred into your ear as you rubbed over his shaft. He felt like velvet in your hands. When you flicked your thumb to spread the bead of precum over his tip, Enzo released an animalistic growl. 

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered. “Gods, I need to be inside of you right fucking now or I’ll die.”

There was no time to slide off your panties. Enzo merely yanked it to the side and guided you over him. He kept his eyes on you as you sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch. Enzo groaned, digging his fingers into your hips while you adjusted to his size.

“Goddamn, you’re so wet and so fucking tight.” 

You had no idea that such filthy words could sound like music in your ears. Enzo may have been sweet as sugar, but you knew that he wasn’t innocent. He was far too cheeky to be anything but downright dirty in bed. 

Enzo was also extremely responsive. He made sure to praise and worship like your body was an altar and he was the most pious believer. 

“Enz, gods,” you moaned as he flicked his tongue over your nipple. “You’re really good at that.” 

“Yeah?” He asked cheekily. “You think so?” 

You chuckled. It was such an Enzo comment. If you weren’t actively losing your mind, you might’ve rolled your eyes at him. Whatever fantasy your mind has conjured paled in comparison to reality. Sex with Enzo was easy. You knew him and you trusted him. It was like breathing air. 

Every moan and whimper only helped you grow more and more attuned with each other’s bodies. The sounds you made were a special language of its own, one that only you and Enzo understood.

“That’s it, princess. You’re taking me so well.” 

“Like that?” you asked, rolling your hips. 

Enzo groaned in response, which made you smirk in satisfaction. He chuckled and kissed you deeply. “Ride me harder, sweetheart. Fuck…yeah just like that.” 

He moaned into your mouth, meeting the roll of your hips with thrusts of his own. Enzo pressed his forehead against your, his long lashes kissing the tops of your cheekbones while he pressed you closer. The deep angle in which he drove into you had you clawing at his back. 

“Oh gods, oh fuck. I can feel you clenching around me, pretty girl. You’re gonna cum for me like a good girl, yeah?”

“I’m so close.” Enzo flipped you onto your back and fucked you into the mattress. The tension uncoiled in your core until you were panting, chasing after that sweet release. “Oh—oh gods, Enzo.”

The orgasm knocked the very breath from your lungs. It was a total out of body experience. Your back arched, your toes curled, and you screamed his name, but none of it registered past the pleasure of coming. As soon as Enzo felt you creaming him from base to tip, he came too. 

It was strangely beautiful to watch. Enzo was mesmerizing. With his sweat slicked skin and swollen lips, strands of his dark hair clinging onto his flushed cheeks. You’ve never seen such a pretty sight. 

The two of you stayed curled up into each other. Enzo slowly pulled out and placed a tender kiss on your temple. This time, there wasn’t a single hint of hesitation as you cuddled up against his side. He was warm and comfortable, lulling you into sleep as he tangled his long legs with yours. 

You didn’t know how long you drifted off. It only felt like a few seconds later when you found yourself on your stomach, blinking sleepily up at Enzo. He smiled, kissing along your spine as he pried your legs apart. You groaned into the pillow as he thrusted lazily from behind. 

It was dark as night outside when you were finally done. You couldn’t even remember how many times he made you cum. All you knew was that you were in complete bliss as you and Enzo sprawled out on your sheets. 

You looked up at Enzo. He looked down at you. The two of you burst into a nervous fit of giggles.

“Shit. Did we just—“

He nodded, curling a strand of your hair through his fingers. “Yeah, we definitely did. Two. Three. Four times? I honestly lost count.” 

You chuckled softly. There was a moment of silence as you collected yourself. Enzo lowered himself down so that you were facing each other. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, pretty girl.” 

Despite your steamy activities, you had never felt more shy than when he brushed his lips across your knuckles. 

“I care about you, Enzo and I know you care about me too. Tonight was….fuck. Tonight was great. I just want to make sure this doesn’t change our friendship.”

“Of course it’s going to change things,” Enzo said matter-of-factly. “You think I can stay just friends with you after that?” 

You swallowed thickly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated. I know you don’t really date. I mean, half the school’s asked you out and you’ve turned them all down, so I’m not expecting to be the exception. It’s alright if you just want this to be casual.”

“I don’t. I’ve said no to everyone because I’ve been waiting for you. You are the exception, Y/N. It’s always been you.” 

“Really?” you whispered, biting back a smile. “You mean that?” 

Enzo nodded and kissed your fingertips. “Sweetheart, you’ve had me in the palm of your hands since we were eleven. Of course I mean it.” 

You didn’t try to hide your smile. You were absolutely beaming. “So you don’t want things to be casual?”

“There’s nothing casual about what I feel for you.” 

“Okay,” you said, processing his revelation. “I don’t want things to be casual either. It might be selfish, but I think I want you all to myself, Enzo.” 

He released a sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking Merlin. I want you all to myself too, Y/N.”

[vaaaaaiolet]

Here, we happen upon a specimen of Homo sapiens in a most vulnerable state. He appears to be utterly besotted with his wife at the risk of his livelihood. Distracted, exhausted, and borderline hallucinating, he's left open to attack from every angle. Including that of the object of his affections, it seems.

In which Leon nearly naps through a debrief and you give him a run for his money.

mdni [insert tiktok GET OUT audio]. married f / m smut feat. the same agent au from mbotcd. a dash of plot w your porn if you please. whipped leon pov where his bamf wife pounces on him LMAO. bjs, jerking him off, and no refractory period yay!!! slight cumplay + dacryphilia?? cavity-inducing p in v à la missionary. banter and praise bordering on body worship. 1 sec of overstim. corny plot twist. honestly just marriage kink. i hate myself too. also you wear a necklace + bracelet cause u cute like that :3

a/n: “vivi wtf you keep writing the sam-” let’s get this straight. i #needthat. i’ve been #needingthat. this is a month’s worth of thirst condensed into a GROSS FUCKING FIC that i’m actually so embarrassed about please don’t look at me. i want this man's dick so bad it makes me ill. and dicks are scary ok. nevertheless, i persevere in my journey to suck leon off with mixed results. enjoy the ride <3 + many many kisses to the most kickass writer i know @comatosebunny09 for inspiring bamf reader :,) leon nation has MISSED YOU LMFAOOO

word count: 3.2k (WE BEAT THE 2.9K TRENCHES Y'ALL!!) // read on ao3

It’s only after you finally shoo your guests out the front door that Leon can plunge into the living room loveseat and let out a sigh akin to that of a sinking ship’s. Or at least shooing is the way he’d have done it – his darling’s too perfect a hostess to dream of doing that.

Goddamn. Leon pulls a hand down his face hard enough to resemble Munch’s Scream painting. He thought they’d never leave: the eye-twitchingly pedantic DSO busybodies who had no business interrupting the sanctity of his home on a Friday afternoon, and an unbearably sleepy one at that. 

Sunshine had dripped down the living room windows slower than molasses while two analysts blabbered on and on about some stupid recon intel from his last mission. One cookie after the other had disappeared from a tray laid out with Leon’s secret stash. And to make things worse, an hour in, you’d started glaring daggers his way when his head started bobbing. It made for a scene dangerously reminiscent of Sunday service as a kid.

So what if this Sensitive Compartmented Blah Blah Blah needed to be discussed at the DSO’s earliest convenience? What about Leon’s convenience? He’d handled confidential business before. He checks his email on time. Most of the time. 

But the hard part’s over now, thank the Lord. Leon can peel off the imaginary Scotch tape from his eyelids and instead appreciate the magnificent view his wife makes walking back from the foyer in her company best. 

Now that’s something he wouldn’t mind discussing at length over tea. 

Crimson silk whispers down the length of your legs when you throw yourself over the arm of the couch opposite him. Leon snickers; kicks up his feet on his own loveseat in solidarity. Falling onto the cushions, you let out a gutted yawn that couldn’t possibly befit the gracious lady of the house who was just insisting your guests stay for dinner. 

He can’t not tease you about it. 

You remind him that he’s lucky his ass didn’t snooze himself out of a job. The threat cuts less considering how funny you sound, muffled from the sherpa throw you’ve planted your face into. You were at it for hours, holding down the fort while your husband zoned out. One more word out of him and you’ll conveniently lose the files he needs for his upcoming assignment.  

Oof. Leon knows not to negotiate unarmed.

Anyway, he’s not too keen on arguing with Sleeping Beauty. Can’t help but chuckle when you tuck your hands flat under your cheek like a Precious Moments figurine. He crosses his arms, watches you curl up your legs and declare to nobody in particular that you’re only resting your eyes before figuring out dinner, and knowing all too well what’s to follow, Leon waits. 

Three…two…one. 

Out like a light. He could’ve snapped on it. 

They tuckered his baby right out. Picture of an angel, fast asleep as sunlight streams onto the carpet and the houseplants don’t notice a thing. Lashes flashing gold in the rays, fluttering with each soft breath you take. You look as if you could sleep for a thousand years.   

With his own head heavy with the five o’clock sun, Leon’s inclined to share the sentiment. He’s close to dozing off too. It’s just…he’s having a little trouble shutting his eyes now that those pests from work are gone and he’s free to stare unabashedly at what actually held his attention all afternoon.

You shift in your sleep – innocent as a lamb, were it not for the bare leg you kick out right then. 

Leon stifles a punched-out groan by the skin of his teeth. 

Your dress rides up just high enough for him to peek at the pretty thighs hiding underneath. Leon might have to call over company more often if it meant you’d wear that again, damn his cookie stash. A lean forward and shit, he’s seeing lace. Lace he wants between his teeth.

The rational part of his brain chides, she’s exhausted. Don’t even think about it.

Leon rebels. He can’t help his hungry eyes from devouring upwards from there. Right over the enticing plush of your hips, the curve of your stomach. Up to your darling face with a few pit stops along the way. 

Do you have any idea how cute you pout when you’re trying to squeeze the sunlight out of your eyes? Or that you finger your favorite necklace, lulling yourself to sleep? It rests over the slope of your breasts, a privilege he’s always nursed a smattering of jealousy about, and Leon isn’t saying he meant to stare for as long as he does at the pendant playing peek-a-boo between the valley of your- 

Fuck it. Yeah, he’s looking. Perving over the prettiest angel he ever did see. He won’t be calling God and returning you to heaven anytime soon. No hard feelings, big guy. 

Said necklace glitters in the fading radiance of the afternoon sun as Leon huffs this particular thought to himself, readjusting his jeans. And then he frowns. Maybe it’s his sleep-addled brain, but he could swear the necklace winks at him.

It’s then that a pair of beautiful eyes – who should very much be closed – flutter open. 

Fantastic. You woke her up. 

It takes you a second. Slumber still weighs heavy on your poor neck. You stretch out your arms, yawning into the back of your hand. Leon’s already workshopping an apology by the time you wipe your mouth to taste the fleeting remnants of your five-minute nap. 

It must’ve been all that moaning and groaning of his, goddamn it. Subtlety’s never been his strong suit. Leon should say sorry. Apologize to the fawn in the woodland clearing for tearing into her dreams like the great, lumbering bear he is. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He drops his voice to a rueful whisper, ducking slightly to meet your line of sight. “Did I wake you up?”

Your gaze doesn’t lift. “...wasn’t sleeping.”

He has the tact to hold back his snort this time. Right, you were resting your eyes. How about he gets you to bed? He hears they’re practically made for eye resting. Or something along those lines.

“Don’t wanna.”

He literally watched you pass out on the couch. You want a crick in your neck that bad?

“I’ll tell you what I want,” comes your defiant grumble, and with a toss of your gorgeous head, Leon’s heart skips. 

You kick out your other leg. Your feet touch the ground with a determined click of your heels. That hip-hugging dress doesn’t do a damn thing to slow you down. A few strides later, you’ve suddenly got the upper hand, towering over his slumped form on the loveseat. Sporting a wicked, wide-awake gleam in your eyes if he wasn’t seeing things. Was he?

You drop to a crouch next to his befuddled head, pivot one-eighty; gather your hair over one bare shoulder. Press the sash of your dress into his palm, deceptively coy. 

“Want you to help with this,” you purr. 

Honeypot voice.

He blinks. 

If Leon knows what’s good for him, he ought to run for the hills. He hasn’t heard you talk like that since Santorini 2016. Something’s off here. Either he’s done something very, very wrong, or something very right. That mission ended with the barrel of your Sentinel Nine jabbed into a handsy thug’s ribs. Years of failed attempts at breakfast in bed flash through Leon’s memories to remind him that you don’t take being woken up lightly. The sash cinching your waist is stoplight red. Likely for a reason. 

So Leon pulls it. 

You try holding still when a smokeshow orders you to strip her, for God’s sake.

The dress falls apart like a dream. Leon’s mouth goes dry watching you slip off a matching set of skimpy underthings. Wearing nothing but that delicate chain that dangles over your décolletage and a tennis bracelet on your wrist – an anniversary present bought to mirror your strength – that sparkles in the sun, you cock a hand on your bare hip. 

Leon sits bolt upright. He’s loaded with a million and one questions, but you’re moving like you’re trying to outrun those Greek thugs again. You don’t give him a chance. When you clamber onto the couch and settle yourself right between the stunned spread of his legs, all he can do is sputter like a rusty engine. His belt falls apart in merry, metallic clinks at your clever fingers. Your dress drops into a forgotten puddle on the floor next to his melted brain. 

“Woah, woah, woah.” Leon grips onto your forearms when you dig your nails into the waistband of his jeans. Wide blue eyes peer into yours, a dumbfounded grin tugging at your husband’s mouth. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’re you- what’re you doing?”

You huff, tugging harder at his waistband. “Want these off, duh.”

“But what’s with the sudden-”

“I don’t entertain for free. This,” your hand darts to cup the bulge he’s been wrangling with for a while now, “is what I want in return for sitting through that boring-ass debrief with you nodding off the whole time instead of listening to anything they were saying. And I know you're going to forget and ask me about the intel later.”

Point taken. He did need to work on his subtlety. 

“Actually, if I’d done this earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten bored.” You hum as if this were a mildly interesting work conversation. “Nothing crazy like sucking you off under the coffee table. I could’ve needed your help getting a file out of the garage, and then...or is that too cliché?”

What kind of porno plot is this? 

“Bold claim to make, doll.” Leon fumbles to take off his jeans in poorly concealed excitement at what that could mean. His denim gets thrown off the couch, courtesy of your ever-so-helpful hands. 

“What, you think I’d put you to sleep instead?” you giggle. 

By sucking out his soul? Maybe. 

You perch yourself on his bare thigh. 

Straddling is great. Comfortable even. Your thighs press all plushy on either side of his leg and that’s fine and dandy, but right now, Leon’s scared shitless that you might slide clean off him – you’re that fucking wet. When did you let it get this bad? You’d squelch moving an inch, for fuck’s sake. Look at you, talking big when your head was just as elsewhere as his.

Leon wraps a steadying arm around your hips with his heart beating out of his chest. It’s only when you lean over his chest to steady yourself that he can let out a shudder of relief. A brief one, of course. Apparently you’ve made it your mission so that he never knows peace a day in his life.

Your bracelet-adorned hand slips into his boxers, curling around the base of his cock with a playful squeeze of his balls. Testing, testing, is this thing on? 

Leon’s throaty groan is your go-ahead to fish out his length. 

The soft O of your cupped hand starts to pump him, slow at first. A gentle up-and-down that has him tipping his neck backwards over the armrest. Leon doesn’t need to look to feel himself standing prouder with each slickening pass of your palm, but he does anyway to see the flash of your wedding ring while you work. Pretends the sight doesn’t make his dick jump. And hell, if you don’t flash him that pretty smile of yours when you notice, squeezing harder. Didn’t know he married himself a succubus.

“God…” he breathes. Cards a hand through your hair with a tenderness that makes your clamped knees buckle. 

Leon hasn’t got much time left. You’ve figured that out too, dropping a kiss to his rosy tip when the blurts of precome start running down the back of your hand. You quickly swipe a thumb over the mess; leave a trail down his leg, scooching down and gasping at the friction on your clit. You pop your lips over the head of his cock like it’s a fruit punch sucker. 

Fuck. Has he ever told you how much he loves your mouth? All spit-slick when you’re blinking more please? 

You inch his length down your throat, soft little gags bubbling past your lips. Doe eyes glossy from the stretch. You’ve got to stop giving him that angel stare before he starts straight-up fucking your face to watch your tears roll. Leon settles for sweeping your hair into a ponytail instead, barely resisting the urge to roll his hips into the wet heat engulfing him. Maybe it’s for the best. He’d get off too quick otherwise and he needs the time to pick between painting your pretty face or your pretty tits white. Decisions, decisions. 

“So good for me, baby.” Leon pants over the soft suckling sounds of you speeding up at the gesture. “Oh, fuck. Wait, sweetheart, I-” 

His breathing turns shallow in seconds. His lower stomach twitches, shitshitshit – he’s coming. Face flushed and mouth moaning wide open when he spills down your throat. 

You pull off his twitching cock, smiling like the cat that got the cream with some dribbling down the corner of your mouth to boot. Then you go ahead and fucking blow on him like you want bubbles from a Blow Pop. His lingering sensitivity makes him shake like a leaf. You’d planned this, hadn’t you?

“Fuckin’ hell, woman.” Leon chuckles softly, using the pad of his thumb to wipe your lips clean. “Happy?”

You answer with a satisfied flutter of your cum-pearled lashes. Cute.

“Good. Cause now it’s my turn.”

Didn’t think you could get away with him making a mess of himself alone, did you? You’d been squirming on his leg the whole time. Poor baby let her mission get in the way of her needs again. So to return the favor, Leon flips you over. Climbs on top.

You turn starry-eyed with your back to the cushions, beaming when he pushes your thighs apart. You’re fussy just the way he likes you when you plead pleasepleaseplease. All riled up just from sucking him off, huh? This won’t take long.

The scent of your arousal is heady. Earthy like sugary petrichor. Makes his head spin. He’s picking up on it more than ever after that orgasm cleared his head like a gunshot. He runs two fingers down your dewy folds to rediscover just how much you taste like linen sheet trysts with a Do Not Disturb sign permanently stuck to your hotel room door.

“I gotcha, honey,” Leon soothes your breathy whimpers. Kisses you slow, easing into your weeping entrance. “I’m right here. Oh, I know.”

First is the initial head-under-water feeling of sinking into you. So good it hurts. Then comes the caramel stretch of you wrapping around him. He’s gotta make sure of the fit, you know? Leon lines a teasing finger around the stretched lips of your cunt struggling to take him whole. 

You anchor your hands into his hair in response. Good enough.

Your gasps ghost over the hollow of his throat, your breath slowing to match the languid pace of his starting thrusts. The ache Leon rocks into your hips takes out the one in his back, he swears. He wants to die just like this. Buried inside you if he can help it.

“Close, close-” You’re keening before you know it. That telltale squeeze of silken muscle Leon knows so well follows your squeak of, “Oh!” 

“Go on, sweet girl,” he coos, “come for me.”

You milk him, petal soft. And aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. You’re a mewling mess underneath him, trying and failing to not dig your nails into his scar-strewn shoulders. Don’t you know it never hurts when it’s you? 

Leon rolls his hips into yours to lengthen the euphoria of your velvet walls clenching him so tight. By some miracle, he’s still keyed up from earlier. He’s got this nasty vision in his head of thumbing his spend back into you, of liquid pearls sliding down your gaping slit and slowly puddling onto the couch. You won’t waste a drop. You never do. Fuck, he’s throwing off his rhythm just thinking about it. 

A quiet sob of his name interrupts his train of thought. Shit, Leon had forgotten you just came. He must be toeing overstim territory by now. 

“Just a little more, you take it so well, just-”

Leon’s vision fizzes and pops at the edges. He drops his head down to see your eyes all scrunched up, clutching his forearm with one hand and your necklace with the other, anything to tide you over the assault on your oversensitive cunt. Breaking his heart, but Leon’s almost there, he’s so sorry, angel, it’ll be over soon, and- there it is, that eye-rolling whip of pleasure in his gut-

“Leon?” 

His eyes fly open.

“Are you okay?!” 

When had he closed them?

Leon blinks back stars. The living room’s plunged in dying daylight. He’s laid out on the couch with his back feeling stiffer than a sarcophagus. You’re kneeling next to him with a palm pressed to his forehead and worry souring your expression. But the scariest part of the entire scene might be the fact that you’re still fully dressed, the pendant nestled between your breasts glinting as if mocking him. What. 

“You started scrunching up your face and kicking around,” you frown, smoothing back his sweaty bangs. “I thought you were kidding about falling asleep after they left. ”

Leon claps a palm over his face.

“Were you having a nightmare?” 

More like he woke up to one. 

“Gosh, it sounded like you were having a real nice dream before that. You were all smiley in your sleep, babe.”

He coughs weakly. “Something like that.” 

“Hm. Well,” you clap your hands cheerily, “I think something to eat might make you feel better.”

“Yeah?”

“Turns out that nap really helped me figure out dinner. I ordered pizza a little bit ago, actually. I was just taking the boxes into the kitchen when I heard you in here.”

Heard. Damn. He wasn’t even going to ask about that. Leon nods, stuck in a dismal, nebulous haze of disappointment. He’ll be right there.

A slow smile tugs at your lips. “And maybe changing out of these,” you glance at his legs, “might help too.” 

Your hand lifts from Leon’s forehead to drag down his chest. Innocent and light at first, just smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt, and then down, down, down over his stomach to rest over the rather conspicuous patch of soaked denim at the crotch of his jeans. And if that wasn’t enough for Leon’s eyes to bulge out of his head, you give the spot a very déjà vu squeeze before walking off.

You can barely hide your giggle on the way out. “Meet me in the kitchen?”

Leon swings his legs over the edge of the couch. Claps his hands to his knees before he catches your contagious smile. 

Sure, he can. He’s been meaning to buy a centerpiece for the kitchen island for the longest time. Y’know, pretty the place up for when guests come over. 

He might just have to start with you.

psst, find more of my work here!

likes kill fics :( comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and ily!

[novvabee]

could you do one where there’s a girl who is really good, like REALLY good at divination and stuff, and meets the mauraders

hi love! this is so cute, it is a tad bit different from your ask but, here it is ❤️ i hope it fits your vision

She's Divine

Summary: poly!marauders x divination loving reader cw: swearing like once, predetermined poly relationship word count: 1.8k

“Y/N!” you heard Sirius sing throughout the common room. You were cozied up in one of the corners with a book you’ve been dying to read on the works and uses of prophecies. You finally had a moment of time, and now it was being interrupted, great.

“Yes Sirius,” you sighed, closing your book and looking up at him from where he stood. He smiled down at you and you knew you were going to be pulled into whatever scheme he was planning.

He batted his eyes down at you, smiling sweetly as he asked “Would you do me a small, well, bigger than small favor?”

“What kind of favor?” you asked, narrowing your eyes in suspicion. 

“Well, remember that assignment that was due last week? The one for divination?” he recalled.

“Yes?” you say, becoming annoyed.

“Well…” He trailed off.

“You didn’t do it?” you guessed, it would be just like Sirius to ask you to do his homework, even a week later.

He cocked his head and smiled. “How did you know? You must be psychic or something.”

You rolled your eyes in answer. Of course you didn’t want to help him with this. It was on a topic you learned last week, palmistry, and you had already moved on to dream interpretations. 

“Oh come on,” he grovelled, “you know I’m shit at divination, and you’re the top of the class. Just think about it as if you’re tutoring me.”

You rolled your eyes yet again, your book will just have to wait until later. “Fine,” you said, “sit.”

He sat in the armchair next to yours, throwing off his bag full of textbooks. He looked at you intently, on his best behavior as not to piss you off and tell him to do the assignment himself.

“Ok,” you started, “give me your hand.”

He obeyed your command and gave you his right hand. You took it in both of yours, pulling him closer to get a better view. You twisted it around to get the perfect lighting and make sure you didn’t miss any marks.

“Ok well, these little marks are ‘witch marks’ indicating that magic runs through your bloodlines but… that’s obvious, almost everyone in this school has them. However, you have quite a lot of them, meaning you come from a long line of magic.”

He nodded along seeming interested in what you had to say.

“Then this one here,” you said pointing to a deep line slashing through the bottom of his hand, “this one is the lifeline, it is pretty average, meaning you will live to a normal age but, it’s split. This probably means that your life will change in a drastic way.” you explained.

Sirius was listening, but he wasn’t listening. He was just staring at you, smiling. His hands were warm, soft. You were beginning to feel his stare.

“Do you want me to keep going?” you asked, not knowing if he was really listening to what you were saying, not taking any of it in. He was definitely not going to do well on this project.

“Yes please!” He said, dreamily. “I could listen to you talk all day.”

You giggled, squeezing his hand in between yours. “Is this just another way of flirting or do you really need help with this assignment?” you asked with a grin.

“Why can’t it be both?” he replied.

You shook your head but continued on reading his palm. “This one is the heart line. It stops right before your middle finger, which means you have difficulty expressing your emotions to those you love. It feathers out quite a bit, I think this may mean you’ll have many lovers in your life.” you said jokingly. This was obvious to you of course, Sirius shared his love three ways already between you, James and Remus.

“Lucky me,” he muttered, smirking over at you and winking.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Hello sunshine.” you heard from beside you. Your attention snapped up to James making his way up to where you were sat under a shady oak tree in the gardens of the castle. It was a lovely day and you decided to take full advantage of the rare sunny weather. You were still on the book about the works and uses of prophecies, not finding the time to finish it.

“Hello James,” you said, smiling up at the tall, bespeckled figure. “What can I help you with?”

“Nothing at all!,” he answered. “Actually, I saw something in Hogsmeade and thought you would like it.”

“A present?” you asked, pretending to be shocked. In reality, it was very much like James to grab something for you while out in the town. He did it fairly often, always bringing you back candies or trinkets.

He chuckled and said “Close your eyes.”

You listened to him, shutting your eyes and holding out your hands for him to set the present in. You felt something hard and cold placed in your cupped hands. You didn’t peek until you heard him say you could look.

You opened your eyes to see a small amethyst tower laying on its side. You gasped and looked up at James. “Thank you!” you exclaimed. “I need to put one under my pillow! I’ve been sleeping awful lately.” you explained.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, sitting down next to you under the tree, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He traced his fingers along your upper arm in a sweet and comforting way. “Bad dreams?”

“Sorta.” you answered, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Well, what are they about? Sometimes it’s good to talk about them and analyze them.” he explained.

You looked at him sideways “Yes James, I too take divination.” you answered him sarcastically.

“Exactly! You should know that better than anyone else!” he chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” you laughed. “They're mostly about interplanetary rivalries, you know, Venus and Jupiter. And all the placements growing closer to conjunction, causing all sorts of chaos and interesting events here on Earth. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

He blinked at you. “No idea. I know about half of the words you just said.”

You laughed and shoved him gently. “Well that was no help, Potter.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were finally settling down, opening your book to the chapter you had left off on. You didn’t make it two seconds before you felt a presence beside you. You thought you would be safe in the library, you thought wrong.

You turned to see Remus setting up some parchment and his quill. He smiled at you and continued. You thought that maybe he would be engrossed in his work and maybe leave you to your reading. You were wrong.

“Hey Y/N, you have a moment?” he leaned over and whispered.

You shut your book yet again, looking over to him to continue.

“You read runes right?” he asked, still quiet as not to disturb the studying students around you both.

You nodded. “Yeah, I got an Outstanding in my OWLS.”

His face lit up as he said, “Great, well, I was wondering if you would be willing to tudor some students in my study group. There’s a few kids taking rune reading for the first time and they said they needed some help, so I wanted to ask the expert.” You suspected he was laying on the compliments to make you say yes to tutoring some younger years.

You laughed off his flattery, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, I am no expert, not yet at least,” you said, “But I can help any way I can.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank you so much, Y/N. I really will owe you.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When you agreed to help tutor for Remus, you didn’t expect two of the pupils to be both James and Sirius. They sat there, textbooks open and puzzled looks smeared across their faces. You didn’t mind terribly, they were your boyfriends after all, perhaps they would thank you with more presents and sweets. 

You figured Remus roped you into tutoring them because he did not have the patience for teaching both boys with the shortest attention span in probably the while school..

You helped them with a few assignments that they couldn’t quite grasp. Both boys struggled with rune reading, tarot card reading, and naval chart reading. You did your best to help walk them through it, but after about an hour, you could tell they were becoming frustrated with it all.

“But I’m a Scorpio,” Sirius said, “I was born in November.”

“I know that Sirius, but that is your sun sign.” you tried to explain. “There are many more signs. For example, your moon sign which is in Taurus.” 

“Ugh, this is stupid!” Sirius said, frustrated and tired.

“Honestly, divination is pretty much useless nowadays, it’s not even reliable, there is no proof it’s real.” James chimed in.

You were taken back by their comments. “Just because you two don’t automatically excel in it, doesn’t mean that it is stupid or useless.” you said, hurt that they felt that way about something you were very passionate about, something you loved and were good at, something you wanted to make into a career. You knew that a lot of people didn’t take divination seriously, that it was considered somewhat of an old wives tale. But you didn’t think that the boys, the people you thought cared about you the most, would think your passions were so miniscule and not as important as their own. 

“W-we didn’t mean it like that,” James said, starting to back peddle. “We just mean, we’re not good at it so…”

“So you think it’s stupid?” you ask.

“No!” James says, becoming pink in the face, not enjoying the outcome of this conversation at all.

“Don't listen to them,” you heard Remus say, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, seeing that you were hurt and wanting to comfort you a little. ��They’re just upset that they have to finally work hard at a form of magic.”

It’s true, James and Sirius both were incredible wizards, it came easy to them. You often thought that they were just made of magic, that they didn’t ever have to try in any of their classes. 

“I might not be able to transfigure a barrel into a slipper on my first try, but you definitely couldn’t explain the difference between quartz and tigers eye and their respective uses.” you say to them.

“That’s why we want your help, Y/N. You know this doesn’t come easy to us. And to you, you're just so in tune with it, it’s like you have this rare, secret talent for it.” Sirius says. You’re still offended, but the compliments were helping.

“We don’t know how you do it, honestly.” Added James.

“Fine… I’ll still help you,” you said, they smiled apologetically at you. “But you have to do all my history of magic papers for the rest of the month.”

Sirius groaned but agreed, saying that it wouldn’t be too hard, just take a lot of time.

“Ok fine, but you have to teach us ovomancy and capnomancy too.” James bargained.

“Deal,” you said happily, excited to share your knowledge with the boys.