#and I had to sit there all day to wait to write this

[enhaven]

dew drops ⤑ psh (m.)

summary: with the continuous change of weather, waiting for spring to arrive feels like forever. but when you unexpectedly had to volunteer in participating at your campus’ yearly Easter egg hunt, what you're searching for might be the least of your concerns.

pairing: sunghoon x reader

genre/au: smut, fluff, strangers to lovers, easter!au, university!au

word count: 15.2k

warnings/content: mentions of religion and folklore?, ovulation, making out, exhibitionism, pet names, explicit sexual content, breeding ig? multiple sex scenes, slight corruption?

author’s note: i had visions after i saw this ad back in february but only started writing this near the end of April. it's finally getting warmer here y’all, i hope you enjoy this late Easter treat <3

Easter weekend.

The long weekend that everybody has been looking forward to — particularly those who are working or always busy, you included. Preparations for the grand celebration that weekend took a long time, and it got particularly intense during the last few days. However, much to your relief, you’re free of religious duties on its final day so you were able to celebrate with your family.

But then here you are the day after, back at campus for your university’s annual Easter egg hunt. You weren’t supposed to attend the event but final exams have been rolling out since the second week of the month. There's no way to take ahold of any of your fellow club members to participate, leading you to volunteer as its representative in the end.

The student council already has a hard time to gain any participants since classes are technically over. Students are either busy studying for their upcoming ones or are already gone for vacation. What better way to promote engagement than emphasized that any club participating in the event will get extra funding for the next school year, bonus, if their representatives win the games as well.

So the option to ditch would be a waste.

Especially for you and your club. It's already not on the priority list for campus funding due to its size in comparison to other larger organizations. As an executive member, it's your responsibility to improve the status of your club as long as you're able and this is your chance.

Thankfully though, some of your club members cheered you on so it didn't feel like you were all alone.

“you guys are lucky i love y’all” you huff through the phone as you trudge through the pathway towards the wide clearing. It's located behind the natural sciences building which is right by the forest. There’s a trail here that leads to a bridge then a stream that runs by the clearing before the surrounding trees.

You didn't even need to follow the signs to reach there. The path is pretty familiar to you since you've taken walks here before to clear your mind.

“it’s a de-stressor event anyway! time to relax miss president!” your vice president, Ruka, cheers you on. You did miss her bright energy since she went back home to Japan after her exams finished a week ago. Most, if not all international students usually leave campus as soon as they’re done for the school year.

"yeah yeah whatever, I'm not gonna try to win anything" you roll your eyes even though she couldn't see you.

You're exhausted from all the festivities and had no time to actually rest. Joining this wouldn't be too bad since you're using this as an excuse to relax like she suggested. Find a good spot where you can hide and just sit there until the event is over. You can try to meditate or even sleep then retrieve your proof of participation later.

“you have to! for us!” she protests with a loud wail and jerk from the volume.

“well, none of you are here” you remind her and that quieted her down. You didn't mean for your tone to come out that way, already imagining her pouting at your playful scolding. You shake your head because she's seconds to giving you a long explanation.

“I'm not mad okay?” you clarify just in case. Despite how close you two have gotten, people often times assume things about you a lot. Not that Ruka would, but it became a habit for you over the years.

“i know but i do feel bad” she counters, sounding defeated. “treats when you get back then” you tease to break the awkward silence after and she brightens up. “souvenirs have been ready for you and the rest of course!”

The clearing came into view so you said your goodbye to Ruka. You're just in time when the host begins announcing the details of the event which you didn’t bother listening to. Their voice is loud yes so there's no way you'd miss anything regardless. You're not even taking this seriously, the bare minimum should do.

Walking up to the front, you picked a random small and round woven basket with pastel decorations from the table without much thought. Smiling at the volunteers, you head towards the forest to begin your “hunt”.

Trudging through the trees, the ground doesn't give you a hard time yet. Barely greenery is around and the soil was tender because of the rain from a couple of days ago. Today's weather is better than you expected, slightly cold but not too much that you’re able to wear your halter mini dress that you got from the seasonal sale before the long weekend.

Spring is a bit delayed this year but some flowers have started to bloom. As you walk further into the forest, the grass became more prominent and greener, lifting your mood immediately.

Looking around to check if there are other students with you, there are none. You've seen them dispersed earlier and you were surprised that you ended up alone. Granted that you really didn't want to participate but you thought there would be volunteers monitoring everyone.

They’re probably in the other areas hunting for the golden egg which is the grand price.

You're here to hunt something else and your eyes spots an area behind a blooming garden. It stands out between the trees, its surroundings is filled with luscious greenery which is a perfect spot for you to wind down. Where you are currently is probably beyond the designated area to search but that wasn't your goal anyways.

This one is and you finally found it.

You need to claim it before anyone does. If anyone sees you, they might follow you here and disturb your serenity.

Settling down at a nearby tree trunk, you place your basket to the ground beside you. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you try to clear your head while you can. It's one of the only times that you can have a peace of mind. Not possible when you're home because it's always been loud.

Leaning back at the trunk, you've looked up to the bright blue sky before closing your eyes. Taking a short nap would be good but the little noise coming from your side snaps your eyes back open. Your heart pumps, debating if you should just go back to sleep and pretend you didn't hear it or not.

But then what if it's just nothing? or worst case, a wild animal who's waiting to pounce.

And you don’t want to alert it. Slowly, you turn to the side, cautious in the way you lift your body off the ground.

The noise stopped, making you pause. However, you're still curious, itching to check what it was just in case you hear it again. Following where you suspect its source could be, you proceed to enter a small clearing beyond the rows of tulips.

You couldn’t be more surprised at the scene.

A very gorgeous man dressed in a light pink polo shirt with a slightly darker shade of pink sweater vest on top. His dress pants matches his polo shirt, the whole fit complimenting your white floral dress.

You’ve never seen him before nor encountered such beauty.

It took you a moment before you start to speak. “excuse me, are you one of the volunteers?” you asked, noticing some colourful and shiny eggs around a small bump by his feet.

He must be so he's definitely here to report you. The council probably added extra volunteers to trick the participants who tried to break rules. You couldn't possibly be the first one to do so.

You spoke too soon.

He looks confused at your question but hesitantly nodded at you with a shy smile. You're taken aback at how dreamy he is from afar, looking extra adorable with his fluffy permed hair. You wonder if it was mandatory for them to dress up for this event. This gorgeous man definitely upped it up a few more levels.

You find yourself smiling so wide as you shift your weight from one leg and vice versa. Your hoping this polite looking volunteer just see it as your enthusiasm for the Easter hunt.

“i heard a noise and thought it was some wild animal” you begin explaining when he didn't even ask you a question. He looks like he wanted you to talk more so internally sigh in relief before you'll start to yap. It happens a lot when you’re nervous, especially around good looking guys.

And you don't want to embarrass yourself. It'll be his first impression of you.

“by the way, is this a special level? that’s why no one has discovered this area yet?”

The consequent questions fly out from your mouth before you could stop them. He didn’t reply, causing you to look at him nervously. He mirrors your anxiousness but maybe he’s just a little shy. Thankfully didn’t mind, nodding at you again.

You're unsure what to do next but he smiles at you, washing away your concerns. Deciding to approach him, you match his smile in the process, possibly brighter and gave him your name.

The area's grass is softer and less harsh. He's inside the circular sheepskin rug in a jaded green colour with huge light pink faux fur cushions that matches his outfit. Most of the eggs are placed on top of them, giving the ultimate Easter Egg Hunt display.

You walk towards where the dreamy volunteer is standing to look at the eggs, fascinated at how expensive they look compared to the other Easter eggs you've seen before.

Shit, what if this is the most difficult level? You're surprised that the university even allocated a big budget for this event. The promise of extra funding in exchange of participation made sense now.

“my name is Sunghoon”

He finally talks, in a soft and sweet voice. It made you pause flinging your Easter basket around. He bows slightly when you return your gaze at him.

He’s polite and pretty.

You’ve never met a man this pretty before.

And you’re smitten already.

This is bad because you shouldn't be falling for a man this quick. You need to focus on the eggs. Yes, right, the Easter eggs. The nearest to him seem to be the special ones.

“what’s the challenge to get one of those?” you ask, willing your focus on those shiny pastel eggs instead of his presence.

“just try to remove them from where they're placed" he mutters softly that you almost didn't hear him. Humming in response, you begin your mission to bring at least one inside your basket.

The thing is, you may have underestimated these eggs.

They ended up being heavy and glossy, which makes it harder to hold and carry without slipping off your hands. Another option is to roll them to your basket but it looks fragile and you don't want to risk breaking it.

You'd have to drop it slowly inside.

From your peripheral view, you notice Sunghoon watching you intently. Suddenly you're conscious since he's watching you struggle.

You can't let a pretty man witness your failure. It's embarrassing for a first impression but he doesn't say anything. You wanted to turn to him and watch his reaction but he's already distracting you this way. Besides these are merely Easter eggs. You may haven't participated in any hunts when you were kid but it couldn't be this hard.

"do you need help?" he offers and you almost lost hold of the egg you're holding on a lower level. You're literally squatting so the distance between the ground and the height of level is much closer. He must've been frustrated at watching you repeatedly try and fail again after a while.

"no! I'm still good to go!" you chirp, breathing heavily as you try to lift the vista blue egg. You decide to drop the previous one, your arms are now aching so you took a breather before trying again. This might be easier since located on the top of the ashy green hill-like stump. 

You're hoping gravity would cooperate, come on Newton.

Dropping your basket at the foot of the stump, you prepare to lift the egg off the ground. The weight was manageable but you've exerted yourself with the other eggs before. Add that you're wearing a lovely mini dress, the slope doesn't work well with your platform sandals.

Throwing you off balance.

You should've worn comfortable pants.

Instead of falling back, a pair of hands catches your body in time before reaching the ground.

"be careful," Sunghoon mutters softly beside you, abruptly cutting your yelp midway. His lithe fingers holding your waist gently offers a sense of immediate comfort. You're too flustered to respond, realizing that you embarrassed yourself once again.

At least you're in his arms.

What.

“t-thank you” you reply with a sharp intake, still processing what just happened and the feel of his touch. He hasn’t removed his hands from your waist yet but somehow, you like the feel of them on you.

Plus, he smells good. Like roses. The pink ones. Not intense like the red.

You find yourself leaning back against his chest as you close your eyes. The sudden comfort enveloping you with the way he’s holding you.

“you’re very welcome, beautiful” your eyes open at his reply, the way he called you beautiful. You were surprised at his effect on you and that he made the first move. Your ogling earlier might've been obvious but you didn't think he'd be this straightforward.

Maybe he wasn’t so shy after all.

“i can try again” you blurted out, leaving his hold because you feel awkward all of a sudden. You hear him clearing his throat, prompting you to turn to him.

You find Sunghoon back to his stoic facade but he's looking everywhere but you. You must've made him uncomfortable but he wouldn't call you beautiful if he was right? Or he was just being polite and calling you that to fluster you to get off of him.

Sunghoon picks up your Easter basket, handing it to you while you compose yourself. It’s not a big deal. It shouldn’t be but you’re stressing about it now. You're not impressing anyone here since Sunghoon's just doing his job as a volunteer.

And you're making it difficult for him even when you didn’t plan on hunting eggs in the first place.

“maybe try the ones by the base” he suggested, pointing at the peach and pastel red eggs.

Good. He's leering you back on track.

“you can sit down hoon, you can’t stand the whole time. this might take a while”

You honestly felt bad that Sunghoon has to stand because how perilous you are. However, the nickname slips out of you and it's too late to stop it. “wait, hoon?” he turns to you as he sits down at the hill’s base, looking at you expectantly.

“can i call you that? or is it too soon?” you ask with hesitation. He looks like he doesn't mind it but you've probably pushed yourself to him this early. It's just that you like giving nicknames in general; then he saved you from further embarrassment so you feel a little affectionate.

“you can call me anything,” he smiles a little, looking at you fondly for someone that he just met. You've been starting to question his shyness when he hit on you earlier but he's probably more comfortable with you now.

You smile at him before returning your attention to the eggs that he pointed earlier. I'm getting you both no matter what. Sunghoon seems to notice, following your gaze at your target. He gives a small chuckle which whirled your focus a little but you've conquered the temptation to look at him.

Placing your basket beside Sunghoon, you locked your eyes on the egg behind him. Reaching out with both hands, your fingers carefully test your grip on the egg. The thing is, you can feel Sunghoon's eyes boring through you from your peripheral view and you’re getting self-conscious again.

He's back to watching your every move and you've been doing your best to only get distracted but also succeed with one egg.

Crawling up the slope causes your thighs to be exposed further. There's no wind today so Sunghoon's saved from being flashed without his consent. Still, despite being used to wearing dresses, your proximity with Sunghoon is making you nervous. There's nothing to worry about since he's been a gentleman so far, proven with how gently he's held you and how he's only looking at your face, unlike most guys.

You've taken a pause, wondering if getting the egg is still worth it. So far, all you've done is try to retrieve any egg but you're close to giving up. Giving a push to the egg so it'll roll down the base, your Easter basket's been waiting to receive it but you might not have a basket in the end as a result. You can't even ask Sunghoon for help cause it'll be cheating.

Either you gave up now or embarrass yourself and waste both you and Sunghoon's time.

"i forfeit" you grumble, still trying to push the damn egg with no luck.

"you're almost succeeding," Sunghoon cheers on but it only made you upset. He moves at a respectable distance to convince you to continue. You gotta give it to him, he's still got the enthusiasm while yours drained out.

"no point, hoon. I've tried my best" you resign, switching to sit on your heels.

"that's alright. you'd still get something right?" he's looking at the bright side while something clicked in you.

He's right, you did, meeting a gorgeous gentleman like him. And you will, that is, get him.

Sunghoon must've felt the change of your demeanour. He tenses when he sees you smile mischievously at him. He tried to look unaffected but you're honestly confused at your sudden desire to be near him. The surprise is clear from his adorable pretty face when you reach out for his arm, wondering why you're pulling him closer to you instead.

"do you need anything?" he asks as soon as your attention solely on him.

"maybe" you whisper, staring at him like he's your target instead of those Easter eggs. You truly don't know what's gotten over you. It's like this man suddenly bewitched you to come after him. You were already enamoured of his beauty earlier, the comfort you felt with the way he treated you shifted your focus on having him instead of those eggs.

He inhales sharply at your vague answer, his head tilting to the side as he studies you with those wenged-coloured eyes. The gesture made you feel conscious with the way his eyes are scanning your body. It's the first time that he did and you're feeling hot all over, not knowing what to do next when his gaze descends further.

It's funny how the tides changed quickly, it's you who's now fiddling the hem of your mini dress because you're anxious of his next move.

"come here," he says softly as he straightens one of his long legs, leaving you confused.

Sunghoon then pats his thigh and you understood, crawling towards him. The thin grass pricks at the skin of your knees but you couldn't look away from Sunghoon searing stare. You again surprised yourself with how fast you obeyed his words.

All thoughts of the hunt and the Easter eggs flew away as soon as you reach Sunghoon. He cages your body in his arms, holding your waist like how he did earlier when he caught you. You're situated on his lap, waiting for you to say something but your brows only scrunches.

A teasing smile appears on his handsome face.

"do you know what you want now?" he asks again but instead of replying with words, you lean in, stopping only when your face is at a small distance from his. You don't know where this bravery of yours came from but it's now or never.

"yes", you answer before giving him a peck on the lips.

You wish it was too quick. Sunghoon's lips caught your eye earlier because of how pink and glossy they are. Now you know how soft they feel against yours too.

And you wanted more.

Sunghoon goes rigid the moment your lips touched. His hands jerked from holding your waist and now you're afraid if you got the wrong idea. After he gave you a sign earlier, you wanted to initiate this time. Or maybe it wasn't. Calling you "beautiful" is just how he breaks the ice with girls and you're no exception. It could be a part of his job, as a distraction and he definitely succeeded.

"I'm so-"

The apology was cut off when you feel Sunghoon's lips again. He didn't pull back immediately like you expected, the slight stickiness of his glossy lips attaches to yours as he moves his lips. But before you can open your mouth to deepen the kiss, he retreats. "may i?"

You're bewildered at his question since he already kissed you. Regardless, you nodded, only then realizing he's pertaining to touching you. His soft hand slides down from your waist, not stopping until he reaches the end of your dress. He pushes it up so he can slide in his palms along your bare thigh.

Sunghoon finally pulls your body closer to his, drawing a surprise gasp from you. Your hands that were on his shoulders automatically moves to hold the back of his head, your fingers tousling his fluffy permed hair that extends down to his neck.

You both stayed like that for a bit, just holding each other contently while staring into each other's eyes.

"i don't think I've told you how pretty you are, Sunghoon," you mutter, one of your hands moving to trace his features with the tip of your fingers. His skin feels so soft between your touches that you just want to hold his face forever.

From the thick eyebrows down the sharp slope of his nose, you couldn't believe someone with such beauty exists.

"you're more beautiful," he replies softly before he kisses you again.

This time, Sunghoon allows himself to drown in you, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. The sudden hunger he's finally letting out has taken you back that you couldn't help but smile in between kisses.

You're both interrupted by the loud rings of bells, breaking your make out session. Your attention shifts to the series of faint voices clearly from a megaphone, clearly announcing the end of the hunt. You've gotten nothing done except being on Sunghoon's lap.

However, the man beneath you ignores when he just heard. He proceeds to kiss your jaw then his lips move down to your neck, breathing in your scent deeply.  

"you smell so good" he groans against your skin, clutching your waist at the same time. It's the first time you've heard him this way and it's making your whole body shiver.

Sunghoon's been holding back and you love testing boys.

"hoon, don't we need to head back? they might look for us soon" you nudge his shoulders, trying to bring your focus to the concern at hand. The other volunteers could be rounding up all the participants and will find out that you're missing from the list.

Although they knew that you weren't going to take this seriously, they still have to take an attendance.

Sunghoon’s touches are luring you back though. He cups your face with one hand and caresses your waist with the other; his way of reassuring you.

"we can stay, don't worry, i won't tell anyone" he whispers against your lips before capturing your them again.

Sunghoon's tempting offer begins to tug at you. His words did the magic, calming your worry and pushes you to focus on his kisses instead. Besides, maybe you can just retrieve the compensation for participating later. You'd have Sunghoon as a back up to prove that you did try your best.

“are you sure?” you ask again and he nods. “if i don’t get that extra funding, you’re to blame” you giggle, punching his chest playfully.

Sunghoon only smiles at your whims, knowing you've already succumbed to him. You resume kissing him, the both of you growing more hungry for each other as time passes by. His soft kneading of your thigh turned into a hard grip. Probably because you've unconsciously been rolling your hips against his crotch.

"do you need a break?" he breathes out as he releases you, licking his swollen lips in the process. Your gaze automatically landed on them, so shiny like it's calling you to take a bite. You'd love to but Sunghoon's lips have tasted so sweet, stopping your urge to draw blood from them.

He calls your name softly, urging you to take a breather. You didn't really need to, the need to kiss him rising the more stops to tease you. He has to be teasing you or he'd be all over you right away. Nevertheless, you lean back to take a good look at Sunghoon's current state. His hair's more disheveled with all your pulling but it's his dilated pupils that's boring through you that has your heart racing.

And the obvious hardness that's poking between your inner thighs.

"oh? are you sure you want me to, hoonie?" you tease, smirking at him. The new nickname perks his attention, breaking his desiring gaze. Only then he realized what you meant, his cheeks flushing as he looks down when you keep staring.

"it'll go away, don't worry" he mumbles shyly, still not meeting your inspecting gaze. 

Even when he's painfully hard, he's still adorable. So you take it upon yourself to let him know that you want him too. Feeling how hard he is further ignited your hormones. You're sure he can feel how wet you already are.

Guess he's the type to let to let others take charge.

Your hand reaches out to lift Sunghoon's knitted top along with his polo shirt, revealing a lean stomach to your hungry eyes. Skin unbelievably pale, you're tempted to scratch your nails along his visible abs but that's for another time. If there will be after this; you'd just have to convince him with your charms.

Sunghoon's breath hitches when you trace the lean muscles of his stomach. You can see them tightening the more your fingers skitters around the edge of his pants. You're tempted to tease him like he did earlier, of if he did actually, he was genuine but you never know.

The bulge in front of you further incites you to circle the buttons of Sunghoon's pants teasingly. He's anticipating what's to come, blown out eyes simultaneously drifting between your exposed thighs and your hand.

"may i?" you ask softly as you look up to his handsome face. Hearing the question he asked you earlier cracks a shy smile on his lips. He nodded after as answer and you swear you a soft glint in his eyes, a sign that he's touched.

Slowly, you begin unbuttoning Sunghoon's pants and he lifts his hips so you can pull it off halfway. Much to your surprise, he's wearing a white silk underwear that looks expensive. He's different indeed because you haven't met any guy that wore one before.

"they're breathable" he mumbles an explanation as he looks away, a hint of embarrassment in his tone which made you smile. He looks adorable pouting but you hope he's not getting the wrong message with your reaction. You're simply amazed, admiring how pretty he is down to details.

"fancy, I'd say. it fits you perfectly" you say fondly as you pull it down, freeing his rock hard cock from its confines. You catch it with your hand as it springs up, the twitching almost made you want to suck him off to reassure him but your impatience takes over.

Stroking it slowly, Sunghoon's breathing starts to heavy, bringing back his attention to your hand. You're like in a trance, eyes remaining on his cock, so focused on spreading the precum around his head. He starts moaning and your eyes perked up, catching his pleading eyes in time before he closes them. He'll never tell you to stop so you release him.

A small chuckle leaves you when his eyes opened the moment you did. You didn't let him have a moment, moving to straddle his lap. You can feel his bare cock rubbing against your clothed pussy and you'd want nothing but want him inside you. Your mini dress hiking up once again, much to Sunghoon's delight. He reaches under to pull your frilly undies down, cupping your cunt once.

"you're soaked" he comments, astonished how wet you already are before plunging two of his long fingers inside your caverns. You're unsure if Sunghoon's aware that you're ovulating. He would've felt how wet you are since earlier, dripping so much that you worry your juices will reach his cuff the more he moves his fingers.

"h-hoon, please?"

He nods, removing his fingers from you right away so you could guide his length to your core. Before doing so, you quickly move back to pull it off from one leg, leaving it on the other because you're too impatient.

You rarely beg but you couldn't care how desperate you sounded when Sunghoon's the same case. His rushed hands and the way his breath quickens when you touch him. Sunghoon's too irresistible for you to wait around, the need to have him carnally encourages you to drop your hips, sinking into his cock without second thoughts.

Whimpers escape you since Sunghoon's quite generous in both thickness and length. You wanted to watch yourself while taking him in but the slight sting had you closing your eyes. Sunghoon helps you by pulling your body in, leading to your hands that are holding his shoulders moves to pull his hair.

Your foreheads to touch one another and you felt a sense of steadiness.

"couldn't wait any longer" he breathes out, his fingers circling the sides of your waist to comfort you. He lets you adjust to his size, leaving feather light kisses along your neck until you feel comfortable enough to roll your hips.

When you reopen your eyes, you meet Sunghoon's blown out ones. It's the only way you can tell he's affected by all these aside from his heavy breathing and disheveled hair caused by you. Meanwhile, you're already a mess when you both barely started, hair's sticking on your skin with all the licking that Sunghoon has done.

Rolling your hips experimentally, you grab Sunghoon’s shoulders for stability. He's followed your suit with how quick you are on gripping him, his gentle caress of your back turned into desperate digging.

None of you talked save for the exchanged panting and moaning in between kisses. He's pretty quieter than other boys but that doesn't affect how good he is at fucking you.

Sunghoon’s mouth returns to your neck but this time, his face continues down to your chest. You’re expecting him to pull down your neckline but instead, he only nuzzles your clothed tits affectionately as he starts bucking his hips up into you.

His fluffy hair tickling your clavicle almost made you giggle but Sunghoon cuts it off when he suddenly delivers a sharp thrust.

“fuck, oh my–“ the loud moan escapes you when he unexpectedly finds the bundle of nerves. Noticing how loud you’ve gotten, Sunghoon thrusts up again, hitting that same spot, strangely not bothered that anyone could hear you easily. You’ve wrapped your hands around his head at this point, squeezing his face further against your clothed breasts.

Despite how tight your bodies are pressed tightly against one another, Sunghoon manages to slip his hand underneath your dress. He rubs your swollen bud as you grind more on his cock to get that satisfaction again. Your lower abdomen has been tightening and you scream Sunghoon's name as you unravel before him.

He gives you time to recover before he cages your body securely, moving you both down the mound of grass. He lays you down carefully, your back hitting the ground as he removes himself from you. You whine in displeasure, making grabby hands at him but he only chuckles.

Sunghoon's hand reaches for your undies to pull it off your leg completely, placing it on one of the cushions. You on the other hand, don't even care where it'll be, spreading your legs after to entice him to put his cock back into you. However, instead of indulging you, he flips you to your stomach. Not for long cause he hauls you up to your knees, surprising you with his strength.

Then he enters you again, ripping a yelp from you at the rough intrusion while you're trying to hold on to the soft grass beneath you.

Shit, this is why he asked you to take a breather.

"you feel amazing around me" he moans after delivering another precise thrust, increasing the speed of his hips that you have no choice but only whimper and spew incoherent curses. As far as you know, the quiet and shy ones are revealed to be freaks on the sheets, proven with Sunghoon's great ability at rearranging your insides.

"ngh–hoonie.." you cry, sensing another wave of orgasm rising from you.

"what if i make you mine? would you let me, pretty?" he asks in a steady voice, still so polite even when he’s fucking you into oblivion.

You take back what you said about Sunghoon usually letting others to take charge. You've clearly misread him. It crosses your mind that maybe everything was on purpose — that this has been his style all along.

Other than manhandling you, there's an edge to his voice beneath the politeness, something you should've noticed but you're too blinded by how dreamy he is this whole time. Aside from his cock's nonstop battering along your walls, your ears don't miss the loud smacks from your skin slapping that are echoing around the trees.

The thought of other participants or volunteers finding you both fucking here makes you tighten around Sunghoon. He groans at that and you did it again so you can hear more of him. You couldn't help it anyway when he fucks this good, anyone would. Then his questions finally sink in to your pleasure-muddled brain briefly.

You didn't like the thought of others fucking him.

"a-already yours," you moan out, mind too muddled to register the implication of your words to him.

Your sudden declaration breaks Sunghoon's composure. He lets out a loud and deep groan, body almost collapsing on top of yours. Although you can’t see him, you can tell he’s pleased with your answer. His fingers stroke your sides as he gets louder, a mix of humming and moaning emitting from him.

You're out of breath from his relentless thrusts but that didn't stop you from trying to meet his hips. Once he senses what you're doing, he moves a hand up to briefly squeeze your breasts, while his other one holds your hip for balance.

“I'm near, love” he rasps behind you, his hips pounding you intensely that you're almost being shoved down to the ground if it were not for your strong grip on the grass. A couple snaps of his hips later and his body pauses, filling you up with his warm cum. 

“so full of me..” he muses mindlessly, his tightened grip on your hips loosening as he rides his high. Sunghoon's rutting into you ever since, his pace slowing down but his strokes are deeper. He removes a hand from holding you, sneaking in front to rub your swollen bud, triggering another orgasm from you.

“y-yeah, hoonie..feels good!" you babble, too fucked out and messy to form any more words other than your nickname for him all while gripping the grass below you.

“You want more?,” Sunghoon coos and you nod desperately. You feel more of his cum spilling into your swollen cunt as he continues to fill you up until he has nothing more to give.

When your elbows finally give up, he begins to remove his cock from you, careful not to spill anything even though it's useless. You protest in return even when your body collapses after, whining because you want his cock back snuggled in you.

Your combined juices drip down your legs and you're too weak to clean yourself up. Sunghoon rushes to help you when you try getting up on your own, assisting you to stand up so you can rest on the nearest cushion. He's holding you gently, a real contrast to how rough he's held your hips earlier while he was fucking you.

Sunghoon helps you lie down and you immediately reach out for him to join you. He chuckles at your request, acquiescing without a word. He stretches out his left arm before he lies beside you, inviting you to put your head on it.

Only then you realized that he never removed any of his layered tops this whole time.

"you don't feel hot?" your voice came out hoarse from all the moaning, catching Sunghoon's attention. Although his permed bangs covered his thick brows, the rise of his brow is visible as he scans your sleepy face. "no, not at all," he quips, the curve of his glossy lips lifting into a small smile. 

Despite wearing a dress, your whole body's on fire with the intense fucking. You're just grateful that the weather chose to be perfect today, you didn't sweat as much as you expected. The man beside you however, didn't look any different than the first time you met him. Now that you've both calmed down, Sunghoon's looking at you like you've known each other for a while.

He's not the type to get attached easily does he?

It wouldn't matter since you're on the same boat. It could be your hormones talking but you feel like you can trust Sunghoon.

Never in your life you thought you'd have sex with a stranger out in the open and on campus grounds too. Not only that but you also let him finish inside you even when you just met which never happened before no matter how hot those guys were. Strangely though, you didn't worry as much as you'd expected.

Maybe it's all the exhaustion and you'll have a clarity later on.

You woke up lying on a soft cushion of baby pink fur, nuzzling your face to it as you rouse from a deep sleep. The sky has turned darker, with a hint of purple due to the rays of the setting sun. The clouds have turned pink, painting a beautiful landscape above you and Sunghoon.

It's a perfect way to wake up, feeling like you're in a dream or a main character in some movie. In addition, you feel Sunghoon’s arm wrapped around your waist. You haven't moved yet to indicate you're awake, relishing his gentle touches thinking you're still asleep. His body's not flushed against yours but his caress on your stomach sends a rush of butterflies through you.

You suddenly turn around to face Sunghoon and he jerks in surprise. The serenity in his face was replaced with worry that he woke you up from your slumber.

“am i making you uncomfortable?” he panics but you chuckle instead, finding his question adorable. You shake your head no, cupping his glowing face with your hands to not worry him.

He literally just fucked you hours ago and he's more concerned of how you perceived him after when you're currently very comfortable in his arms.

"I'm just not used to clingy guys…especially pretty ones" you say slowly, waiting for any reaction from Sunghoon. Usually, guys take offense at the word "clingy" but instead, he reacted the opposite. His cheeks turned pink at the word "pretty" and you poking his two moles made him flush more.

Sunghoon immediately hides his face in the crook of your neck, unable to face you after you pointed out his blushing by rubbing his cheeks.

Oh, he's too precious for you to let go.

“listen, i know we just met but do you wanna go with me to the spring formal?” you rapidly ask before you chicken out, nervously waiting for Sunghoon with your uncertain but pleading eyes.

It's not mandatory but there will be an award ceremony happening for the best clubs on campus which you don't want to miss. You can technically go alone, like most people who simply went with their friends. But this year, you want to go with someone for once. With how busy everyone is, you had no time to ask people to come with you so Sunghoon's your last hope.

He was quiet for a while but he looks surprised. Your mind's starting to overthink but you see the smile slowly forming on his pretty lips. "I would be honoured" he whispers, eyes lightening at your offer. His smile fully brightened when you grin in relief that you're able to see his beautiful canines.

Sunghoon leans in for a kiss which you welcomed, feeling his hand move down lower from your belly. He kneads your thighs before he sneaks under your dress to cup your soiled pussy. A soft gasp escapes you at the contact, breaking the kiss as your body squirms with his ministrations. Your back arches a little when you feel the tips of his delicate fingers trace your sodden folds, checking to see if you need more of him.

Sunghoon's radiant eyes are so focused on the faces you're making. He's looking at you like you gave him a pot of gold when you should be the one feeling that way since he agreed to be your date. The only thing left to worry about is the dress you'll wear to the event. You've got a date now who's currently making you feel amazing that you're tempted to fuck him again.

Can't let that happen. Good thing nature's on your side too.

“do you wanna head out? it’s getting darker” you tug his sleeve, getting up from the cushion. You feel better now but you still struggle as you feel each muscle contracts, the impending sore waiting for you has arrived. Sunghoon didn't notice and you didn't want him to; following your suit as you fix yourselves. He hands you back your panties and you find it in you to still feel embarrassed.

“don’t forget your basket,” he reminds you softly, looking at the ground behind your shoulders. You turn to find your cute basket filled with about a dozen of smaller shiny pastel Easter eggs.

Did he just search the forest to fill it up while you were asleep?

The gesture touched your heart since you'd be able to surely claim your compensation later. You look Sunghoon gratefully who's waiting for you at a distance until you're ready to go. However, just as you were about to leave after picking up your filled basket, you notice all the props around you.

“shouldn’t we clean up here? we probably missed the end already” you suggest to Sunghoon, looking around at how much work you both need to do before it gets fully dark. The nap you took felt like a waste of time but Sunghoon's good pounding made the Easter egg hunt fully slipped your mind.

None of you expected to stay here this long so you only have your phone as a source of light. There will be lampposts when you return to the path but it's going to be very dark here soon. You suspect Sunghoon didn’t have bring flashlight while decorating this area since the event's bound to end before late afternoon.

“no need, we can just leave it as it is. at least that’s what I've been told” he shrugs, taking your unoccupied hand with his. As an over thinker, you're not fully convinced with Sunghoon's reason. For all you know, you both would get fined or get a penalty for not following proper protocol.

Not just following the rules but also for public indecency when you both had sex during the duration of the event.

Despite your doubt, you let it go, grasping Sunghoon's hand between your fingers. Together you walk back towards the line of trees, hands intertwining until you reach the main clearing where the main table was. No one’s left so you’re probably just gonna drop by the student centre to let them know or just email them a picture of your Easter basket that Sunghoon meticulously arranged.

There's a rush of excitement in you at the notion that one of their volunteers basically let you cheat off of the event. No one caught you and Sunghoon so they'd have nothing to prove until then. Besides, it takes them ages to actually send any prize anyways so funding would not be any different and possibly will have a longer process before approval.

“do you wanna grab a bite? we can discuss what to wear for the event then” you tug Sunghoon towards the banquet hall and he nods. You actually wanted to at least buy something there if he refused.

None of you talked as you saunter to the building where the hall is and you've actually appreciate the quietness. Being with Sunghoon who's not a talkative type of a person would've been relaxing if not for all the staring that you both get as you walk along the hallways.

“you’re quiet. are you tired? we can just head back” he asks worriedly after noticing you tightening your hold in his hand.

“nothing, it’s just..it’s stupid. ugh this is probably so normal for you” you ramble, avoiding his gauging gaze.

“it’s not if it’s bothering you” he insists and his words warm your chest.

“they can’t stop looking at you” you admit shyly, looking at Sunghoon briefly and a small grin replaces the worry in his face.

Great, you’re probably feeding his ego even more by admitting it.

“not just me” he replies, continuing his steps like he doesn’t notice the eyes that are boring at you both. What reason could they have to be staring at you? Sunghoon might be used to staring, but not you.

You've been feeling conscious as soon as it happened and it remained even as you order your supposed dinner. You told Sunghoon to find a table but he insists on staying with you. After you both got your trays your food, you beeline towards the rows of tables and fortunately found one near the windows, your preferred position here to see the view outside.

It's mostly lights but the stars are visible on the sky tonight.

“do you have an idea for the colours? if not, we can just go by the typical spring ones” you start so you’ll divert your attention to the important matter at hand instead of the lingering gazes around you.

None of the people here would think that you and Sunghoon just met in less than a few hours ago with the way you're both acting with one another. He holds your hand after unloading the food from the trays, flustering you to no end. You look like a couple to anyone's eyes with how affectionate he is. The comfort he gives you definitely helped ease the awkwardness you mostly have with strangers.

You could get used to this.

“I'll match whatever you pick”

In the end, you decide to go for a mix of pastel pink and some green while Sunghoon will match your dress with a black suit and a pastel green tie.

A true gentleman that he is, Sunghoon walked you to your dorms after. It’s already late at night when you both finished dinner — discussing the Easter egg hunt down to the origins of the holiday. You've told him what you learned growing up from a religious family and he in turn, told you the other versions of it.

The path towards the house that you share with four other girls is surrounded by trees. It’s relatively safe though since it's your university's student housing. Still, Sunghoon insisted on walking you for extra safety.

Right when you're nearing the door of your dorm, Sunghoon brings your hand that he’s holding up to kiss your knuckles. You're again taken aback, your heart racing since you weren't expecting this because you've hooked up already.

He really is different than other guys.

“you’re endearing,” you say before switching the Easter basket you're holding to your other hand. Staring into Sunghoon's eyes, you grab his neck to kiss him.

Sunghoon was surprised at first but immediately returned your kisses, placing his hand on your back to pull you closer. At this point, you feel like kissing one another is going to become a habit the way how natural it is for you both. You break the kiss to catch your breaths but also because you almost lost your balance (again) while kissing him.

"careful" he holds you steady, eyeing the Easter eggs inside the basket in your hand. You chuckle at his mild concern, finding him even more endearing with how attentive he is to them. Of course, you'd take care of it like a gift. Sunghoon made an effort to gather those for you even when he didn't have to, risking his volunteer position just to help you.

"thank you.." you drawl after letting out a small chuckle when his gaze returns to you. Eyes still lost in his, you're debating if you should say more but Sunghoon smiles, seeming to understand what you meant.

“I'll see you until then” he smiles fondly as he releases you. You can tell by his hesitant eyes that he doesn't wanna let go. You begin to miss his touches already as soon as he did, turning around with grace as he leaves the porch.

“wait, we didn’t exchange numbers!” you call for him and realization hits Sunghoon as soon as he heard you. He starts patting his pockets and his face morphs into panic when he can't feel his phone. He looks up at you with a defeated expression but you shake your head with a reassuring smile.

“oh, i must’ve left it somewhere. we were rushing earlier” he concludes calmly, trying to look composed but the embarrassment is apparent on his face even in the dark — his light complexion shows clearly how he abandoned his belongings because he was too focused on you.

"it's okay hoon, meet me here maybe about an hour and a half before it starts" you say excitedly, already thinking of the event which is going to be in three days.

It'll take you longer to get ready and you don't want to be late. The venue's outside your campus and although not far, you would like to be early to enjoy the candy bars and photo booth before everyone arrives.

And of course, more time with Sunghoon without much prying eyes. For sure, you'd have a deja vu and might bother you for the rest of the night.

"alright then, have a good night __" he shows that soft smile again and you respond with a quick "night, hoon".

Sunghoon turns, heading towards the main road while you wait until he's out of sight. Your mind's still processing the unexpected events of the day and the Easter season definitely surprised you. You couldn't believe you're out here sending off a man who you just met and hooked up like some girlfriend.

“girl who the fuck was that hottie?”

A loud voice belonging to one of your housemate, Aeri, booms behind you, breaking your thoughts.

You whirled around, clearly surprised and wondering if she's been behind the door the whole time.

“and why was he kissing you?” another voice, belonging to Karina follows as you and Aeri entered back into the house.

Yup, Aeri did sneak. Both her and Karina did through the window curtains.

“You got a man and never told us?!” Minjeong chimes in from the kitchen as soon as you all enter settle at the living room.

“not my man, just my date for the spring formal" you respond sheepishly, still overwhelmed at Sunghoon's parting gift and their rapid questions.

"I've never seen him before. where did you even meet him?" Yizhuo, who's coming down from upstairs, adds and the rest zero in on you for an answer.

"at the hunt" you quip, feeling defensive at this surprised interrogation. You know their questions are harmless, purely out of concern but you honestly haven't felt this way for so long.

For someone on that matter.

"damn, why have i not ever joined?" Aeri asks dramatically, shaking your shoulder which made you laugh. "I'm missing this whole time? next year it is" she says with determination before any of you could answer her.

"just today? or did you know him before?"

The laughter between you and Aeri ceases once Karina followed another question. She's looking at you suspiciously and Aeri looks unsure on what to do next. Yizhuo's still torn whether to but in or not.

Out of all, Karina's the only one who can actually confront you but you're too happy to deal with their prodding questions right now.

"we shared a class last year" you lie through your teeth. They didn't seem convinced with your clipped answer, eventually letting it go once Minjeong called them for dinner.

You followed to greet Minjeong and excused yourself to your bedroom, telling them that you had dinner with Sunghoon already before coming home. As you leave, you didn't miss the way Karina's eyes lingering you on your figure or Yizhuo's subtle indifference at your little story.

Only Aeri seems to be unbothered, her focus solely on the food Minjeong prepared.

.

Before going to bed, you checked your socials to try finding Sunghoon. Since you didn't get to have his number, its the only way you'd be able to communicate for the spring formal. It's not that you didn't trust that he's not going to show up; you just like being ready in case of emergencies. It's the most basic form of communication especially that you're bringing a date — meaning you'd have more things to prepare for.

You contemplated asking your housemates, maybe just Aeri or Minjeong but you don't want to hear any type of scolding if ever. None of them outright showed it compared to the other two but you can feel the slight judgment when you told them about Sunghoon.

You're aware that it might be too soon to invite him as a date when you just met. But on the other hand, some people literally hook up once and maintained some sort of connection whether that'd be friendship or something more. You and Sunghoon are still strangers to one another, yes, but that’s the reason why you invited him to the spring formal.

To get to know him better. And for your friends to meet him.

You never cared before, not really. Never cared what your friends would think about them. Barely any guy gets your interest enough for you to meet them again after the first time. Whether it's a simple chat or sharing a night together, no one was able to maintain your hold on them.

Sunghoon however, was different. Yes, you were instantly attracted the moment you saw but you're more intrigued with how peculiar his ways are compared to other boys. Sure you've met boys on the quieter side, there are ones that almost are like him too with how they treat you. However, it's Sunghoon's tenderness that sets him apart from the rest.

It’s definitely a part of his charms that he may be using on you this whole time.

And you’re falling too easily on them.

You don't mind though. This chance is too rare for you to pass. For once you're finally considering dating if things go well with Sunghoon during the event.

After a while, you gave up searching for his socials. You've forgotten to ask for his last name at least. It would've been easier to look for his accounts. You've looked through people's mutual friends as well, trying out every combination with his first name but to no avail.

It doesn’t matter. You have a date to prepare for and you’ve got three days until then. Sunghoon will show up. He never showed you any indication that he wouldn't. He was even hesitant when he left.

You're going to hold on to that until then.

Looking for a dress went better than you expected. Haunting dresses in boutiques on your own felt a little adventurous. You only have this option really because you wouldn’t get it on time if you purchase online. Thankfully, you found one that matches the theme and is up to your taste. It’s a floor length halter dress with a pleated corset in baby pink colour, with flowers and light green leaves as a pattern.

You hope Sunghoon would like it. Make no mistake, you picked this for yourself but unlike past events, you have a date this time that you wanted to impress. You'd have to make an effort to keep up with Sunghoon's beauty although it wouldn't be a big deal to him. He crossed your mind several times while searching for dresses, wishing he was with you during the process.

You can't wait to see him again.

The remaining days until the event consisted of you going home and your dorms back-and-forth. Your housemates are staying around even if their exams are over to wait for the spring formal. The awkward tension that surrounded you all vanished the next day. Part of it was that you haven't mentioned Sunghoon ever since and they've been cautious too.

You've done shopping and getting pampered with them which was always fun, something you'll miss once summer starts. None of them every stay, going on summer vacations every year which leaves you the caretaker of the house from time to time since you stay in the country during those months.

Your parents found out of the Spring event at the last minute and your Mom panicked. You reassured her by catching her up everything, completely skipping the part that you almost didn’t get any tickets for you and Sunghoon. Thankfully, you knew someone that could help. Jungwon, one of your former mentee, is currently part of the campus council and was able to score you late bird tickets with a discount.

The day of the spring formal finally arrives and you’re more nervous than you anticipated. You've stayed with your housemates the night before just to prepare, waking up the earliest among them which surprises the girls since you’re usually the latest.

“calm down girl, you look great!”

Aeri cheers you on as she finishes her makeup touch ups by the hallway mirror. You smiled at her gratefully, the other girls parroting the same thing.

It's not about how you look that you were worried about. You do think you look great today. A stupid reason but negative thoughts have been popping up your mind as soon as you wake up. Prepping distracted you but they've returned as soon as you're done. Since you had no way of contacting Sunghoon, a little part of your brain thinks that he might be late or worse, not show up.

“You have nothing to worry about. I used to overthink a lot before but Jaewook came through”

Despite Karina's indifference of Sunghoon as your date, she kept reassuring you, noticing how anxious you've been since this morning.

“Yeah, Heeseung and Jay will most likely be the latest to pick us up” Minjeong chimes in as she ties the strap of her heels around her ankles. “Might not be! Jay’s actually punctual when needed,” Yizhuo smiles cheerfully as she defends her date. She's sitting beside Minjeong who's scrolling on her phone, typing furiously to her date, you're guessing.

“thank you girlies” you looked at each of them with another wave of appreciation.

They’re right. You should only focus on positive things today to avoid any misfortune on your way. Small talks resumed between you and your housemates, about the dresses and everyone's predictions of which clubs will earn awards for tonight's spring formal event.

Then a doorbell ring disrupts your conversation.

"oooo i think it's him!" Minjeong throws her phone on the couch and excitedly parts the curtains to see who it was on the porch.

She's right. Opening the door revealed Sunghoon, the first to arrive out of all your dates. He's dressed in a black tuxedo with matching pink polo shirt underneath and peering from his breast pocket is a light green pocket square handkerchief.

He looks nervous but it all vanishes as soon as he sees you.

“you look breathtaking” he says first, eyes locked on your first then they down to the dress you're wearing.

"so do you.."

You're awestruck at how gorgeous Sunghoon is today. His natural beauty had you smitten when you first saw him but he's extra hot with the straightened, slicked back hair. Gone were the perms that made him look adorable and your thrilled to meet this side of him.

"greetings to you ladies" he says softly, sweeping his eyes at your housemates before bowing with such grace.

The girls of course are stunned, just like how you were when you first met Sunghoon. Yizhuo hits Aeri's arms with a giggle, who's smiling so brightly at your date while Karina gives you teasing eyes and Minjeong wiggles her eyebrows at you both.

Certainly the opposite reaction than before. Maybe it's because they've finally heard his voice and see him up close.

"we'll go ahead guys, see you at the venue!" you circle your arm around Sunghoon's as you both head outside. The girls wave their goodbyes from the couch, just lounging while waiting for their dates to pick them up. It's still early but Sunghoon actually arrived at the time that you both agreed on.

Another plus point.

Sunghoon assists you as you both walk down the cemented path of the neighbourhood. The long walk is a bit of a hassle due to your heels plus the long trail of your dress but it's manageable. When you both reach the parking lot, that's when you see a white luxury car waiting by the spot nearest to the parking gate.

The sight of the car made you pause on your steps, trying hard to hide your surprise. Judging on Sunghoon's elegant manners and the way he dresses himself, you've had a hunch that he could be rich the first time you met him. However, seeing this luxurious car and the driver in uniform inside, you didn't think he'd be this rich. That must've been why you couldn't find him on online. He probably doesn't have any social media. People from wealthy families often not want to be on the public eye for many reasons.

The driver comes out and greets you both then opening the car door. He gestures you to hop in but Sunghoon stops you.

"Hold on, I have something for you."

He unclasps your arm around his left elbow then takes your hand to put on a flower corsage on your wrist. It matches the pocket square that he has, light green petals with small pearls adorning the wire. 

"hoon, this is so pretty" you muse, turning your wrist around after he's done. You quickly retrieve your phone from your evening bag, putting your palm against Sunghoon's chest to take a picture.

"i made it," he confessed and your eyes widened. "really? what can't you do huh?" you tease and he only smiles, guiding you to enter the car and following after. Openly flirting with Sunghoon may look pointless but his shy smiles and blushed cheeks are enough for you even if he doesn't flirt back directly.

The ride was pretty quick. Sunghoon held your hand the whole time while many thoughts cross your mind. One of them with you wondering if Sunghoon owns this car or just rented it. Based on his conversations with the driver, he might be Sunghoon's personal one but you didn't ask. Not that it mattered since it's just a random thought. He's here to drop you and Sunghoon off, nothing more.

Your date got off first before opening his hand for you to take. You turn to the driver to thank him and he only responded with a curt smile as you get off the car.

Not many students have arrived at the venue yet so you're relieved to be the first ones.

Watching them however, makes your stomach churn. Something roots you to where you're standing.

"let's go inside?"

Sunghoon asks you softly but you don't look at him. You had a feeling that he wanted to ask you more but he doesn't press on it and just waits for you to tell him.

"I'm a bit nervous, hoon. i haven't gone to this in a while" you shyly admit, a bit frustrated that you let it takeover your excitement for today. Sunghoon holds your hand immediately, willing you to look at him. "I'll never leave your side", he reassures you again with his words and if it weren't for your makeup, you're sure he would've caressed your cheeks too.

True to his word, Sunghoon stayed by your side the entire time. He snakes an arm around your waist as you enter the venue and you've calmed down. His presence have always been comforting, much more when he touches you. Everyone sneaks a glance at you both, some subtle, some outright. It made you smile, feeling a bit secured that you've managed to get him as your date.

When you reach the reception table, Sunghoon excuses himself to the washroom. You've reminded him where your seating table was before he leaves and he nodded. Turning to the table, you've noticed the attendants looking at Sunghoon but shifted their eyes to you with an awkward smile.

"Sorry but he's not on the system," the girl tells you, clicking away the mouse to find Sunghoon's name after you told her.

That's odd. You've managed to ask him his last name earlier so you can tag him on your posts later.

"It's Park Sunghoon. I'm sure it's there, please check again" you hurriedly tell her after spotting Sunghoon emerging from the corner. He walks to your designated table, patiently sitting down to wait for you.

The lines are getting longer as the students flock the reception table for the attendants to check their tickets and register.

“is everything alright?” he asks worriedly, pulling the chair beside him for you to sit down. But you didn't because you're in a rush.

“did you bring your ID perchance? i didn’t but they couldn’t find your name” you ask, truly wondering how they can find yours and not his. Since he was one of the staff at the Easter egg hunt, he's probably more involved than you so there's no way he’s not in the system.

“no, didn’t think we’d have to” he answers without much thought. “should we head back there? i should’ve stayed with you then” he adds, sounding regretful.

Both you and Sunghoon did and like other students who’ve stolen glances at your date, the girl behind the table was no different.

She’s awestruck at seeing him up close, like how you were when you first saw Sunghoon in the forest. You felt a little conscious because she was only looking at him without giving you any regard so you had no choice but to put your hand on Sunghoon’s chest.

This caught the girls attention who then smiled brightly at you; courtesy or embarrassment that you caught her ogling your date. With the way she’s looking at him, you wonder if she even remembered you from earlier.

Sunghoon’s surprised at your hand on his chest, turning to you with the little corner of his lip curling upwards.

"family name is Park, kindly check again" he says while looking only at you. His soft voice accompanying his politeness was enough for the girl to just nod, her smile widening but it somehow irritates you a bit.

"you can just register him as a guest right? we wouldn't want to be an inconvenience" you say, looking back at the line of people waiting to check in with tickets in their hands.

"don't worry, he's all good! i hope you enjoy the event!" she exclaims, more joyous than ever, her eyes only lingering on Sunghoon. You've circled your arm again with his, dragging him back inside the hall.

You didn't miss Sunghoon trying to stifle his laugh but he never bothered confronting you which you truly appreciate. Whatever he found funny during the entire interaction is none of your business. The problem was settled so you should just enjoy the night and this lovely time with Sunghoon.

It might be the last time you'll see him.

Even though you both seem to be comfortable with each other, you technically only met and talked twice. You don’t know much about each other yet and you’ve been planning to change that tonight.

Instead of returning to your table, you pulled Sunghoon towards the photo booth area. You’re the type that treasures memories a lot, therefore, pictures are important. Sunghoon has not said a word since you both arrived at the booth but he follows your whims with all the poses that the photographer recommended.

“perfect! you looked good together!” the photographer cheers on and Sunghoon’s hold on your waist tightens. Your heart beats fast as well, the idea of you and Sunghoon being a couple warms your chest.

You just met for goodness sake, why are you already thinking in advance?

Sunghoon surprises you when he kisses your cheek, the same time as the countdown ended for another picture.

“thank you, very much for this” Sunghoon says in a very sincere way as he stares at the pictures on the screen. You’re busy picking which poses to fit in the frame but you noticed that the photographer sounded touched. “please, it’s just part of my job but thank you”

Usually, it takes so long for you to pick which poses to include but Sunghoon looks great in every picture. Finalizing the photos turned quick, all credits to your date but you look like you could keep up with him too.

“here are the copies, one strip for you and your boyfriend”

Your cheeks warmed at the photographer's insinuation. You're about to object but Sunghoon hasn't said anything, only taking hos copy from the machine. You follow his suit, smiling gratefully at the photographer as you take your copy.

“thank you again”

You take Sunghoon’s hand in yours as you leave the photo booth area. He intertwines your fingers, caressing your hand with his thumb finger.

“do you want to walk around? we have couple of minutes before it starts” you beam against him, smiling so wide, the remarks of the photographer still lingering in your mind.

“you’re feet are okay, right?” he asks, looking down at your ankles. The only way he could see your heels was through the slit of your dress mid thigh, something Sunghoon appreciated with the way he’s gaze lingered at your exposed skin.

“please hoonie, I'm used to walking in them” you tease, parting your dress further so he can see more of your thigh. Sunghoon was fighting to not break his composure, struggling to stop his attempt at biting his lip as he stared at it and then you.

The other pairs of students that were assigned to the same table as you have also arrived and you all introduce yourselves with one another. Sunghoon might be a shy person but he was pretty engaged with anyone who talked to him. It probably helped that his hand was holding your bare thigh as comfort.

You can feel how cold his palm was at first, trembling a little until you put your hand over his.

"thank you, love" he leans in to whisper in your ear, kneading the meat of your thigh.

"of course hoon," you smiled at him, wanting to kiss him right then and there if it weren't for the other students at your table. You wouldn't want to make them uncomfortable with your public display of affection.

There will be plenty of those later.

You noticed someone waving at you over Sunghoon’s shoulders, Yizhuo with her date who must be Jay.

Sunghoon turns to the pair, looking at them longer than you expected. You then realized that it's the Jay you shared shared in a class last semester. He meets your eye and smiles politely, then he shifts his gaze on the man beside you.

His inquisitive eyes are squinting as the smile on his handsome face drops.

Classic Park Jongseong.

Park. His last name from what you remember last semester.

He shares the last name with Sunghoon then. It’s a common last name so there’s a possibility that they’re not related or wouldn’t know each other.

Maybe there won’t be any harm to ask if he knows of Sunghoon. If not, then your date could use a new friend. You haven’t seen Sunghoon with any of his friends. The topic never came up in your conversations but you realize that he hasn't greeted anyone since arriving here.

Before you can get up and pull Sunghoon with you to approach another table where the rest of your housemates are, someone calls your name from behind.

“do you wanna dance? if that's okay with your date of course”

Sunoo's a good friend of yours who you've shared many courses with before due to you both being in the same program. He's always been lovely and is down to your spontaneous study dates. Asking you to dance so you two would be the first ones on the dance floor is just one of his whims.

“you asked me, remember? so he’ll be fine with it” you turned to Sunghoon who’s staring at Sunoo with guarded eyes. He shifts his eyes at you and gives a hesitant smile. His reaction confused you. He couldn’t still be shy right?

Unless…

Sunoo opened his hand for you to take, giving Sunghoon a strange look like he’s studying him subtly. As soon as you got up and walked towards the centre of the dance floor, you couldn’t help but voice out the question that’s been bothering you.

"noo, why were you looking at my date like that?" you ask, truly confused with their interaction. You were still thinking of the small interaction between Sunghoon and Jay earlier. Now you'd have to add this one too.

"i was just trying to see if I've seen him somewhere," he answered, stealing a glance at Sunghoon on the table.

“don’t you know each other? he also volunteered for the Easter egg hunt” you press on, your browse crunching in deep confusion. Your brain’s trying to wrack up everything you remember on the day of the hunt.

“no, did he participate? he’s not one of the volunteers for sure. i would’ve remembered his face during the workshop”

Sunoo’s answer made your body freeze. Your heart's starting to beat faster, your fitted dress starting to feel suffocating — the plated parts caging your abdomen. Your breathing's changing, the nerves are catching up on you.

“smile, he’s watching. everyone is since we're obviously the best” you didn’t realize that you were gripping Sunoo’s shoulders for the past few seconds. You're obviously nervous and tried to play it cool so he won’t suspect any but he's giving you a knowing look.

That's what Sunoo is the best at — reading people. He's one of the smartest in your year for a reason.

You then realize the face that you must've been making, revealing what you truly think of your date in front of your friend. You close your eyes to calm yourself a little, taking a deep breathe before asking Sunoo the questions that have been in the back of your mind since the hunt.

"the eggs..are they shiny? glass like and in pastel colours?" you start, hoping for Sunoo to nod but he only raises a brow at you.

"we literally bought the typical Easter eggs from the dollar store, you know, the bright and patterned ones" he answers, the sassiness in his tone apparent now with how your questions have sounded ridiculous in his ears.

The eggs you had didn't look like any of those that Sunoo described.

"what's wrong? did you even manage to get any eggs? i saw you before you left to the forest and you didn't look interested at the event at all"

You'd wish Sunoo would stop talking. He's exposing you like this when Sunghoon or even anyone could be listening. The music's not so loud and you're both far from everyone but you didn't want to risk anything. Not until you can confirm what you just found out.

All these have started to overwhelm you and you're glad Sunoo's here to keep you grounded. You know he's been suspicious this entire time, just masking all of it unlike you who couldn't even handle any of this information.

This is not how you want this night to go.

"i got some eggs. s-special ones actually" you mutter, your voice shaky and Sunoo's eyes twitch a bit as soon as he hears it. You knew he's been trying to act normal as much as he can but hearing your voice is the last straw. The music's almost ending but you don't feel like going back to your table yet.

You want to stay here for a couple of minutes to calm down and gather your thoughts before facing Sunghoon again.

"everyone, please take a seat. the opening ceremony's about to begin"

Sunoo's eyes meet your nervous ones and reluctantly releases you as you near your table. His bright smile never changed but his grip on you tightened, almost like he doesn't want to let you go. You had no choice but to go back now because of the announcement. However, you spotted the washroom sign by the corner and you found your escape.

You immediately grab your evening bag as soon as you're out of his grasp.

Sunoo's words didn't fully sink in until you hear Sunghoon calling your name.

"are you okay? did something happen?" Sunghoon's concerned voice momentarily stops you and you force yourself to act normal. He eyes Sunoo behind you and that's when you put your hand on his chest to get his attention back on you.

"everything's fine, hoon! I'll be right back" your voice came out chirpier than you intended so he can tell you're in distress despite the smile you were trying to put up.

"let me come with you"

"no need, I'm okay i swear" you insist but Sunghoon's not convinced.

"i have to make sure you're okay," he says, voice full of worry while the confusion is obvious in his pretty face. You almost felt bad for suddenly treating him like this. Despite what's going on, he's still prioritizing your comfort.

It could be his last effort, you think.

Sunghoon was already suspicious of Sunoo earlier and you were failing to be inconspicuous. Plus, you don't want to get the attention of the other couples at your table.

One of them's already looking warily at you and Sunghoon. You smiled at them for reassurance, thankfully they reciprocated and returned their attention to their partner. You turned to Sunghoon and nodded, leaving your table hastily so you both could return quickly.

It'll be time to eat after and they'll call the table numbers one by one. Your table is in the middle of the order so you still have time. Nevertheless, you just want to be surrounded with other people as soon as possible.

You rush to the mirror as soon as you reach the washroom while Sunghoon closes the door. Closing your eyes, you force yourself to focus and fix your composure.

Fear looms you as soon as you feel Sunghoon focusing on you.

"you look troubled while dancing with sunoo" he starts as he nears you. The mention of your friend's name almost choked you on your breath, bringing back your conversation earlier where you've heard his answers the first time.

"it's not him. it's just.. one of those times" you try to explain but your heart's been hammering since being alone here with Sunghoon. You had a hunch that he already knows what's up based on your behaviour earlier.

You'll try to act normal at least.

"is there anything i can do to make you feel better?" he asks, voice becoming gentle again as he scans your face. You meet his eyes for the first time since hearing all the answers from Sunoo and you're beyond conflicted. Sunghoon genuinely looks worried at your sudden change of behaviour but you couldn't confirm if he figured you out already.

Maybe you still can keep this up.

"you being here is enough hoonie" the nickname encourages Sunghoon to come near you, taking a hold of your elbows to pull you towards him. You stare into his eyes once more, hoping that he'll see the need in your gaze.

Sunghoon steps closer and your eyes shifts down to his shiny lips, the ones that lured you into him the first time you met. He starts leaning when you don't move away, his lips nearing yours but never pushed further.

"let me make you feel better" he whispers against your lips, hands slowly rubbing your elbows. You can feel Sunghoon's desperation to touch you further but you haven’t given him any permission yet so he didn't.

Still polite.

Relief courses through you at the thought. At least, that never seems to change. You could use this as an opportunity, giving him a false sense of security now then he might be vulnerable enough later for you to confront him with the truth.

Smiling as you nod, you wrap your arms around Sunghoon's shoulders. He took this as a sign to hug you fully, rubbing your back for comfort. While doing so, he slowly backs you up until your ass hits the edge of the sink, releasing him from your arms.

Sunghoon's hand comes up to grab the side of your neck, pulling your face closer to his. You're expecting a kiss so you close your eyes, only for him to pull back. Instead, you feel his other hand lifts the hemline of your slit, his fingers brushing against your exposed skin.

“hoon not here…” short gasps escape you at his bold move. Granted the first time he had you was out in the open but this is different. The risk of getting caught is higher with many people nearby.

“not yet love, but don't worry, i will be quick” he reassures you, turning your body around to face the mirror. You didn't protest as Sunghoon meets your eyes through the reflection, looking thrilled to make you feel better.

His hand returns, slipping inside your dress to palm your thigh in one go. Locating your bud right away, he briefly touches it before the tips of his fingers trace along your clothed opening. Sunghoon's studying your face for any other reaction aside from the arousal emerging on your features.

Your body's squirming by being flushed against his and you berate yourself. You're soaked even before Sunghoon starts touching you. He just had that effect on your body that it almost made you forget everything you learned since arriving here at the venue.

Sunghoon sticks to his words, sliding your undies to the side and slipping his fingers in as soon as he deemed that you're wet enough. His pace is slow at first, allowing your walls to get used it but he gradually increases his speed.

"tight..because you're tense. let's loosen it up a bit, yeah?" he notes fondly, his breath fanning along the shell of your ear. He curves his fingers, reaching deeper in your caverns. You've been trying to roll your hips slowly to meet his thrusts but Sunghoon's holding your waist firmly, wanting you to just take what he's giving you at the moment.

His actual plan, that's why he followed you here.

Your moans are increasing in volume but Sunghoon's not covering your mouth to stifle it like you thought he would. Maybe he does want other people to catch him fingering you here. It's clear that he has a thing on it and you've grown to have it as well.

"hoon..there..there..fuck" your hands grabbed his neck for support and Sunghoon groans now that your ass rubbing against his crotch. He tried to put a distance between your bodies since his goal is to only make you cum but you don't care about anything other than his fingers inside your cunt right now.

You managed to switch your moans into quiet whimpers but Sunghoon's fingertips brushed your spongy spot and you're back to zero. Sunghoon notices though since he's been muffling his own sounds by mouthing your neck. His grip on your waist tightens the same way your cunt's clenching erratically around his digits.

You're so wet that apart from the minimal voices you and Sunghoon try to maintain, the squelching noises from your pussy echoes throughout the washroom walls. Someone could knock at any minute and you're praying that Sunghoon at least locked the doors.

"come on, love, let go for me"

Sunghoon's words strike multiples inside you. Both for letting go of your moans and your wary inhibitions of him. Not long after, your breathing starts getting heavier, throat dry from swallowing your moans. Few pumps of his fingers and you're unraveling in front of his eyes.

You tried to keep your eyes open but the rough pads of Sunghoon's fingers have paid special attention to your pulsing bud. Your eyes ended up rolling at the back of your head, your lips swollen now with the times you bit it to keep yourself from screaming his name out loud.

"can't..anymore.." you whimper, feeling like collapsing in his arms.  You took a glimpse at Sunghoon and he's watching you with awe, still sliding his fingers in and out slowly as you ride out your high. Your knees buckle at its intensity and if it weren't for Sunghoon cradling your body, you would've fallen forward.

He removes his fingers slowly when he feels your body twitching a little. You watch all his actions through the mirror, a whine eager to come out of you as soon as he slips his coated fingers into his mouth to taste your juices.

"sweet, like i know you will" he smiles after and releases you, helping you sit on the marbled surface beside the sink.

Sunghoon proceeds to wash his hands, retrieving some tissues after to clean you up. Your body's still shaking from the intense orgasm he just gave you, breathing heavily as you lazily spread your legs. Sunghoon parts your dress, staring at your ruined panties for a bit before his eyes zeroes in on your core.

His tall frame bends and meticulously wipes your core and legs, making sure that your dress didn't get any stains. His hands are shaking a little and you can see his inner struggle to not reinsert his fingers and fuck you here.

Sunghoon's sweet and that remained constant since the first time you met. Too sweet in other people's eyes if they find out that you haven't known each other long enough.

"i haven't been honest to you" he starts as soon as he finishes cleaning you up.

"about what hoon?" you're relaxed now like Sunghoon intended you to be. You're more collected thanks to him but your apprehension from earlier is still around. Ironic really when he's the reason why you were in shambles in the first place.

You wait for Sunghoon as he stands straight. He looks nervous and couldn't meet your gaze.

"I'm not what you think i am"

His admission surprises you. Out of guilt or probably, you were too obvious this whole time so he had no choice.

"what do you mean hoon? obviously you're not or i wouldn't be in this event with you"

Your tone was neutral but your after remarks could send a different message. This is the most nonchalant you've ever acted and you're just hoping to be convincing. Beckoning Sunghoon closer, he followed without breaking eye contact.

Damn those beautiful dark brown eyes.

"I'm different. not your kind" he continues, studying your face to figure out what you're thinking.

Sunghoon's confirmation should've shaken you up but it never did. Because you had no reason to fear him. He's never shown any indications that other people would consider otherwise, an abnormal behaviour. He's just odd, with even weirder habits. When he told you that he's different, you only thought it was just part of his quirkiness. You know, closeted rich boys with weird kinks so you played along even when you didn't really believe him.

"i don't understand"

"allow me to explain?" he offers, the hint of panic in his tone.

You got off the sink with his help to fix yourself. You're both facing the vanity mirror again, with Sunghoon returning to hold your waist tightly. You've noticed how his eyes seem a little different and the smile he's wearing, it's not in a threatening way but his sharp incisors spiked your heart a bit.

“you wouldn’t hurt me right?” you ask cautiously, gauging his reaction to your question. He didn't even get to start with his explanation yet but you need to know. There's no point going in circles. Whatever is happening, you need to hear those words just in case.

“hurt you? i would never dare to, darling” he sounds slightly offended at your assumption.

Sunghoon pulls you closer to him again, your body naturally melted in his arms right away. The notion terrified you a bit even if he reassured you already. It's basically a promise and he's never broken any of them so far.

"o-okay" you hate that you stuttered because Sunghoon might interpret it differently. Your heartbeats begin picking up, your throat closing up due to the wave of anxiousness suddenly hitting you.

You need to leave.

However, Sunghoon wraps his one arm around your waist, hugging your body flushed to his. He presses a kiss on your bare shoulder then noses your neck, inhaling your scent until he reaches the top of your jawline.

You're not sure if he can sense your nerves but you succumb to his touches. Not that it's difficult. You'd have to until you can send a text to Sunoo. Your hand itches to grab your phone from your evening bag, eyeing it desperately. However, Sunghoon rubs your stomach gently, distracting you from your plan. Draping your arm above his, you close your palm around his hand.

You're unsure of what Sunghoon is planning. Despite his comforting touches, your heart palpitates once again. He nudges your jaw to pay attention to him again so you meet his eyes through the mirror.

And they're gleaming with something darker than you anticipated.

“you said you’re already mine and i intend to keep it that way”

e/n: i haven't written this long since 2021 and it's also the first time that i wrote for a singular POV with this fic length but i hope it's okay! it’s still spring and easter's technically not over until pentecost in june so…

[mournthebird]

James.

summary: You help him remember what he lost.

warnings: Post!HYDRA Winter Soldier | Post!HTP and abuse | Flashbacks of HTP | Past dehumanization | Past SA mention

a/n: So sorry for the wait on my writing. Started this back in January, just got around to finishing it.This is the last installment as of now for this series. Might not be the ending everyone wishes for, but this was the ending I was writing for all along.

I never expected my writing to get so much attention and I thank everyone for commenting and telling me how much they enjoyed it. I have plenty more to come, more series, more WS oneshots, etc. I hope you enjoy this last part. Not edited ignore mistakes. ;; wc: 3k

He was actually talking, forming full sentences and expressing himself in ways you hadn't seen before.

Recovery had been progressing well these past few weeks. The conversations between you two were becoming more frequent and natural, his initially trembling voice gaining strength and confidence with each passing day. He was still somewhat soft spoken, and hesitant every so often, but he had overcome retreating into silence. His words flowed more smoothly now, and the progress he'd made since those first difficult days was great. After months of providing him sanctuary in your home, seeing these improvements filled you with a deep sense of relief and hope that he was getting much better.

Your dedication to helping him recover had led you down numerous paths, including the risky but necessary task of infiltrating HYDRA's classified files. Your efforts hadn't been in vain - you'd managed to uncover another name, an identity that existed before they'd reduced him to simply 'Soldat'. You felt the potential benefits outweighed the risks by approaching him with this information. You didn’t want to send him into a mental break, but you also wanted to give him a piece of his identity to have and keep all for himself.

He deserved that much.

He was sitting peacefully in the living room, taking small bites of the sandwich you'd prepared for him. You settled onto the couch beside him, watching as he ate. "Soldat?" you ventured softly, drawing his attention. His glacial eyes shifted from the television screen to meet yours, and he deliberately finished chewing before swallowing his food. Through months of careful observation, you'd learned to interpret his quiet, attentive gaze as his way of showing he was listening.

"I found some stuff about you..." You began carefully, choosing your words, "Maybe it could help you remember some bits of your past before...you know." You placed the gathered paper files on the coffee table, positioning them next to his plate, your heart racing slightly at the weight of what these documents might mean for his recovery.

He gazed down uncertainly at the weathered tan folders spread before him, tilting his head slightly as he tried to comprehend their significance. Though their contents remained a mystery to him, your insistence on their importance lingered in his mind. He used the back of his organic hand to wipe his mouth clean of any crumbs before carefully reaching out to lift the heavy folders.

The weight of history pressed against his palm as he felt the substantial collection of papers and photographs within. Soldat's movements were measured and cautious as he opened the first folder, his eyes immediately drawn to what appeared to be an identification page.

The document contained what looked like a detailed patient dossier - complete with vital statistics, biographical information, and extensive historical records beyond the cover. But what caught his attention, what made his breath catch in his throat, was the photograph attached to the file. The face staring back at him was unmistakably his own, though from a time before HYDRA had claimed him - a fact he had yet to fully comprehend.

You hoped this wouldn’t send him spiraling.

A deep furrow formed between his brows as he leaned in closer, studying the image with an intensity that spoke of desperate recognition fighting against decades of delicate programmed amnesia. "...is this...me?" The words emerged as barely more than a whisper, his metal finger hovering tentatively over the photograph on the right side of the document. The military uniform the man in the picture wore stood in stark contrast to anything he'd known in the past seven decades that it felt like looking at a stranger.

"Yeah, that...that's you. And this," you said gently, making a sweeping gesture toward the thick folder, "This is all about you. I found it during my research into historical military records. The moment I saw this photograph, I recognized you immediately. After reading through your service history and your supposed 'death,' there wasn't a shadow of doubt in my mind - this was definitely you."

Soldat stared intently at the folder, his eyes scanning each line of information with the practiced precision of a soldier. His movements suddenly halted, brow furrowing in confusion as he reached a particular detail. "I have a birthday?" The question emerged barely above a whisper, laden with genuine bewilderment. The concept of having a birth date felt alien to him - such normal, civilian matters had been stripped away during his time as HYDRA's carefully crafted weapon. Personal milestones like birthdays had been deemed irrelevant to his function, reduced to meaningless data points in his fractured memory.

A distant memory stirred in his mind, hazy and distorted like looking through frosted glass. They had once arranged what they called a ‘birthday celebration’ for him, though the term felt wrong, tainted. The party existed in his memory only as fragments of sensations - a searing pain in his ass that had lingered for days afterwards, and the persistent acrid taste that had coated his mouth and torn throat, making even breathing an uncomfortable reminder of whatever had transpired. The memory carried no joy, only phantom discomfort and a deep-seated unease.

"...I don't understand, why are you showing me this?" His voice carried confusion and cautious suspicion as his gaze shifted to meet yours. The soldier in him searched for hidden motives, unable to reconcile your consistent kindness with his understanding of how people treated assets like himself.

Your genuine concern and humanity towards him stood out to the cold efficiency he had grown accustomed to. The question that truly plagued him remained unspoken but clear in his hesitant expression: how could someone like you see him as worthy of anything?

"Because you need to see that you exist - you're a person. A living being, not a machine. Not an asset. A human. You need to see this because you need to break through all that awful conditioning and see for yourself...your person is documented, you're real. Every moment, every breath, every thought you have belongs to you and no one else. Your experiences, your feelings, your choices - they're all valid and they all matter. And I want to give you all I can to help you understand that." You reply, voice determined and firm but gentle and patient.

It truly pained you, as much as you adored and loved caring for him, being a protector, a source of comfort for someone so damaged. Watching him struggle with his own identity and worth was like watching someone try to catch smoke with their bare hands - frustrating and heartbreaking all at once. You knew he couldn't stay this way forever, trapped in this cycle of self-doubt and learned helplessness.

He needed to heal, to find his way back to himself, and without this step, he would remain stuck in this limbo between who he was forced to be and who he could become. There was only so much you could do by yourself, only so far your words and actions could reach into the depths of his trauma. He needed another push, something more than just comfort and reassurance.

You wanted to keep him forever, but that wasn't right. You needed to give him a chance to live again.

The hours slowly drift by as you both remain seated in your living room, poring over every detail and fragment of his past and personal history. While you offer what assistance you can, you're aware of your limitations - you're not a historian or memory specialist, and many of the answers he seeks lie beyond your expertise. The simpler questions you can tackle with confidence, but when the inquiries delve into more complex territory, you find yourself struggling.

Despite these limitations, you pour your heart into helping him. Though your search for living relatives yields no results, you pay careful attention as he recounts his encounter with the man he fought prior to your meeting. You listen intently as he works to describe the individual in as much detail as possible, trying to capture every significant characteristic.

"Actually...he kind of looks like this kid but...bigger." His finger traces to a particular photograph, indicating a small-statured blond man whose frame seems incongruous with his age, suggesting some underlying medical condition or chronic ailment that may have affected his growth.

"Really? Him?" Your eyes scan the photograph with heightened interest, faint recognition tugging at your consciousness. "He looks familiar but...not." You furrow your brow in concentration, unable to figure out who this blond looks like.

"Huh. Well, I'll see what I can find," you say thoughtfully, your eyes drifting toward the old analog clock mounted on the wall. A deep yawn escapes you as the realization of the late hour hits. "Shit...it's almost three in the morning," you mutter, your hands moving up to rub your tired eyes, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. "I think I'm gonna have to call it a night..."

The soldier glances up from his position, his head tilting slightly as he follows your gaze to the clock. He carefully sets the stack of folders down on the coffee table before rising to his feet. "Me too."

"You don't have to because I am -" You begin to protest, not wanting him to feel obligated.

"Please..." He pauses, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I...I just got comfortable sleeping so...so I think this stuff will help me ease into sleep better. Knowing a little bit more about everything." He tries to explain in hushed tones, his shoulders lifting in a gentle shrug as if to downplay the admission. The gesture is small but meaningful, and you can't help but respond with a warm, understanding chuckle as you motion for him to follow.

"If you say so, silly," you reply with gentle affection. "But I'm absolutely exhausted...we can try to look up more tomorrow when we're both fresh."

The evening routine was a blur of haste.

Both of you moved through the motions with heavy limbs and tired eyes. Hours of staring at screens and poring over documents had left you mentally drained, your vision slightly unfocused from the extended research session. The familiar rhythm of brushing teeth and washing faces was performed almost mechanically, both of you eager to find solace in sleep.

When you finally made it to the bedroom, he followed his usual pattern of climbing into your bed rather than retreating to the spare room down the hall. Your bed had become his sanctuary, a place where he found the comfort and security that eluded him elsewhere. The spare bedroom was always available to him, but remained unused.

He preferred the warmth of your presence.

As he settled against your chest, you began tracing patterns across his scarred back. Your fingers danced carefully across his skin, drawing invisible masterpieces - delicate spirals here, geometric shapes there, occasionally spelling out words or numbers in a gentle game of touch. He’d guess them sometimes, or say them in Russian for you. You knew his preferences well by now, avoiding that particularly sensitive area where flesh met metal, creating a jagged reminder of his past. Your touches were meant to soothe, to ease him into sleep, and you would continue until his breathing evened out into the rhythm of slumber.

"You think I'll learn who I was again? Fully?" His question pierced the quiet of the room, barely audible above the steady hum of the white noise machine that helped mask the nighttime sounds of the house.

You took a moment to consider your response, a gentle smile forming as you replied, "Of course. There's so much information out there, and plenty to learn. Plus, if we figure out who that young man is in that photo, then I'm sure we can go off of that."

"Yeah...you're right...always right," he mumbled, his face pressing closer into your body as if seeking additional comfort. Responding to his movement, your hand naturally migrated upward, fingers weaving into his long hair to provide the calming sensation of gentle scalp massage that often helped lull him to sleep.

His breathing gradually slowed and deepened as he drifted towards sleep, your gentle touch working its familiar magic to ease his troubled mind. The soldier's muscular frame relaxed against you as consciousness slipped away, his strong arms remained wrapped around your body tenderly, holding you close like a cherished pillow. Though his body radiated warmth like a furnace - a side effect of the serum that coursed through his veins - the smooth, cool surface of his cybernetic left arm pressed against your skin provided the perfect counterbalance.

He ironically always complained about being cold, yet his skin was hot to the touch. You wondered if the repetitive freezing of his body messed with his ability to regulate body temperature, but now wasn’t the time to ask.

You shifted slightly to nestle more securely into his protective embrace, your own arms encircling him in return. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing began to lull you to sleep. As your eyelids grew heavy, you felt yourself being drawn into a deep, peaceful slumber - the kind of sleep that had eluded both of you for far too long.

Tonight was the first time in months that you both slept without disturbances.

The following day came and you returned to where you had left off. You delved deeper into researching, as you did, you couldn't help but notice the growing signs of restlessness in his demeanor - the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot, how his eyes darted around the room, and the increasing frequency of his pacing.

"Talk to me, Soldat...what's going through your mind?" You finally broke the tense silence, looking up from the computer screen where you'd been working. His movements had become more pronounced now, an unmistakable anxiety radiating from him as he continued his agitated path across the room.

"I have to go...I need to find out more. I want to. I...I want to find the man from the bridge, he...he seemed to know me..." Bucky paced restlessly in your living room, his heavy steps wearing a visible path in your rug as he moved back and forth with nervous energy. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, metal fingers whirring softly with each movement as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.

"Are you ready for that?" You asked gently, standing to meet him, careful to maintain enough distance to not overwhelm him. You knew this was coming, it was only a matter of time.

Your voice was soft but steady, "I want you to be happy...I want you to be free. If this is what you want to do, then you should go.” You reached up, moving some stray hair from his face and tucking it back with thicker bits of his hair before letting your hand rest on his chest, “Find yourself again. Discover who you truly are."

He looked down, shoulders hunched slightly as he processed everything he had been through with you. His long hair fell forward, partially obscuring his face once again - stubborn locks - as he remembered each careful interaction, each small victory.

You were the first person in seven decades to show him kindness, to show him the care and patience he needed when he was nothing more than a frightened, broken man seeking shelter. Surely, anyone else would've thrown him back out on the street, called the authorities, or worse.

You didn't do that.

You were persistent, taking care of him with such a gentle touch, helping him rediscover his humanity piece by piece, showing him that he deserved tenderness and understanding...he couldn't be more grateful for that.

"I want to go," he said quietly but with growing determination in his voice. You nodded slowly, understanding the significance this moment held for him - a step toward reclaiming his identity and place in the world.

You observed as the soldier - James, Bucky - selected and donned a well-worn brown jacket over top his layered preference on style. His hands, steady now despite their history, secured a nondescript cap over his dark hair, adjusting it just so before his eyes sought yours . "What do you think...? Civilian enough?" The question came softly, almost hesitantly, his searching gaze holding yours as he waited for your familiar reassurance.

You couldn't help but give a small, warm smile, your heart swelling with pride and affection. Watching him take these steps toward normalcy, toward reclaiming his place in the world, it made your eyes glisten with emotion threatening to spill over. He reminded you of an injured bird, carefully testing its mended wings after a long recovery, finally ready to take flight once again. Meeting his questioning look, you offered the reassurance he was looking for, "You look perfect. You..." You paused, taking a breath to calm your emotions.

"You can always come back whenever you need me. I'll be here for you, you know that, right?"

"I know," he whispered, taking a hesitant step forward as his eyes grew visibly misty, mirroring your own. "Thank you, for...for everything you've done. For being there through all of this. I...I don't even have the words to begin to express how grateful I am. How much this all means to me...I—"

"Hush now...there's no need to thank me...just," you took a shaky breath, your trembling hands smoothing down the lapels of his jacket, trying to steady yourself. "Go out there and find yourself again. Rebuild your life piece by piece. Take all the time you need. I know you have the strength to do this. Just…don’t forget about me…"

He gave you a gentle, tender smile - one of those rare, genuine expressions you'd seen so few times before. “How could I?” He leaned forward slowly, he placed a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, full of unspoken gratitude and affection. After a long moment, he finally pulled away and reached for your front door, his hand hesitating briefly on the handle before turning it.

He had already taken the first crucial steps toward reconnecting with the core of who he was beneath the layers of conditioning and control. He was far from being healed - the deep psychological wounds and trauma would take many more years of patient work to process and integrate.

But with time, he would at least rediscover and reclaim his identity as James Buchanan Barnes.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

Cover image from Pinterest. I do not claim as my own.

Taglist: @captivator9oh7 | @millercontracting | @teafangirl | @leighta | @questionableratatouille00 | @buckybarneswife125 | @hazydespair | @knoxic | @ghostlyfleur | @beckies000 | @seventeen-x | @freyjhasdesiredreality | @curlycow01 | @blackstabbath6 | @devilslittlehelper | @regics | @honeybee-hayes | @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger | @gabriella-aesthetic | @sapphirebarnes | @animechick555 | @chimchoom | @regics | @frombkjar | @tummyyellin | @sour-patxch | @cats-chaotic-mind | @httpsells | @lailac13 | @mintchocochip-icecream-blog | @takeyour-pants-off | @lveegsoi | @sera--sera | @daddyyy88 | @thewitcherxhisbard | @lailac13 | @damnitmaddie | @stilleobjection | @needf0rspeed | @damnitmaddie | @qzskn13 | @frog-fans-unite | @seaskysunrise | @pro-iron-man-fan | @soapsite | @violetlilites | @misspendragonsworld | @ribyourtoplip | @cece2608 | @homeless-clown | @insanesosciopath | @doilooklikeigiveafrack | @escapefromrealitylol | @soapsite

Let me know if you'd like to be added/unadded anytime.

[bucketsorbueckers]

Trouble - Chapter 1

Age gap Paige X Azzi

Warnings: Language

Word count: 6.3K

a/n: someone dropped this idea in my inbox. i became obsessed. stayed up way too late and woke up way too early to write this bc i actually can't stop thinking about it. IDK how often this will be updated bc i clearly didn't write ahead but yeah. anyways anon, whoever you are, i love you sm thank you for this

also pls let me know if you like this one i know its diffff

Summary:

Paige Bueckers has spent five years as the WNBA’s golden girl—stoic, unstoppable, and famously unbothered.

But she’s also never met Azzi Fudd.

Until the Lynx trade up to draft her.

Azzi’s twenty-three. Number one pick. Gorgeous. Talented. And, not that long ago, was reposting thirst edits of Paige Bueckers like it was her part-time job.

Now they’re teammates. Sharing a locker room. And, if Azzi has her way, a slow-burn love story in the making.

Paige isn’t interested. Azzi isn’t subtle.

And neither of them is remotely prepared.

Azzi POV| 5:07 PM | Night before the draft

Azzi was halfway through her post-shower routine at the hotel, hair wrapped in a towel, legs still damp, wearing the old Chicago Sky t-shirt she’d thrifted freshman year—ripped at the hem and barely hanging on—when her phone rang.

On the screen: Marcus.

Her agent. Her very recently seen agent. They’d met earlier that day to go over everything—schedule, logistics, media. The plan.

Azzi was going number one. That wasn’t new. Wasn’t surprising.

Two-time national champion. National Player of the Year her senior season. Best guard in the class. She’d been headlining mock drafts since before she could legally vote.

Chicago had the pick. Chicago needed a star. She already had the jersey, practically.

So, there was no reason for Marcus to be calling. 

She answered the call with the kind of slow, suspicious grace typically reserved for the moment everything goes wrong.

“Hello?”

“You sitting down?” he asked, and her stomach dropped before he even said the rest.

She sat. Not because he told her to. Because her knees went loose all at once, and the edge of the bed caught her before the floor did.

“There was a trade,” he said. “It’s still you at number one. But it’s not Chicago anymore.”

She blinked. He waited.

She blinked again. “Then who—”

“Minnesota.”

Silence.

“Minnesota?” she repeated, like maybe that was a city she’d never heard of. “As in—”

“Yup,” Marcus said. “Lynx traded up. Desperate move. One of their guards tore her ACL in practice yesterday. Front office went all in. It’s a good opportunity, Azzi.”

But Azzi wasn’t listening. Because her brain had stopped at Minnesota and detoured immediately to Paige Bueckers.

“No. No, wait. Like… Paige Bueckers Minnesota?”

There was a pause. Then: “Well, I believe their facilities are technically in Minneapolis,” Marcus said, flat. “But yes. Pretty much the same thing.”

Azzi didn’t respond. She was too busy recalibrating the trajectory of her entire adult life.

Paige Bueckers. Paige fucking Bueckers. The woman who made midrange fadeaways look like foreplay.  Who never smiled in post-game interviews and somehow made that hot was going to be her teammate.

Azzi looked down at her shirt. Chicago blue—which now felt traitorous. She pulled it off immediately. Now standing in the mirror in just her bra and underwear, she stared at herself.

Oh god.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to be drafted by Chicago, do the polite press thing, and flirt with Paige Bueckers lightly on Instagram after proving herself in the league.

She was not supposed to get launched straight into the orbit of her actual dream girl. This was not a drill. This was not a cool moment. This was Defcon horny.

“I have to go,” she said suddenly.

“Azzi, I think we should—”

She hung up before Marcus could finish. Rushed to her suitcase. Dug beneath the carefully folded outfits. Ripped through socks and slides and backup lashes until she found it.

The hoodie.

Faded gray. Slightly oversized. The same one Paige had been photographed in years ago after some summer league game—hood up, headphones in, looking so good Azzi had nearly choked. 

Azzi had seen the picture on Twitter and ordered the hoodie that day. No hesitation.

She pulled it on now. Like maybe it would protect her from the very obvious, very embarrassing crush she still hadn’t grown out of.

It did not.

If anything, it made things worse. Because now she looked like a girl who knew what she was walking into. And was already in way too deep.

She checked the mirror. Pouted. Tilted her head.

“Shit,” she muttered to her reflection. “You’re absolutely gonna ruin everything.”

Group Chat: baby goats🐐🐐🐐

Azzi:

THEY TRADED THE PICK

I’M GOING TO MINNESOTA

MINNE-FUCKING-SOTA

WHY WOULD GOD DO THIS TO ME

Jana ??? girl congrats???

Caroline: wait like BUECKERS minnesota????

Azzi: SHE’S THERE

SHE’S GONNA SEE ME

SHE’S GONNA KNOW

Caroline:what is she gonna know??

Azzi: THAT I’M DOWN BAD

that i’ve been reposting her since sophomore year

Jana i’m sorry didn’t you tweet “paige bueckers if you’re reading this i’m free on thursday. and also every day for the rest of my life" once

Caroline:

oh you’re cooked

Azzi: she’s gonna think i’m a fan

she’s gonna know i’m a fan

i’m gonna get benched for being horny

Jana: can they even put that in the contract?

Azzi:  they’re gonna invent a new clause for me

—-----------

Azzi woke up the next morning with two purposes:

Look unbelievably good.

Don’t make a complete fool of herself in front of Paige Bueckers.

She had a better chance of walking on water than pulling off both.

Her room was already full of people by the time she brushed her teeth. Makeup team. Hair. Stylist. Publicist. A girl holding a tiny steamer and the biggest coffee Azzi had ever seen.

She let them pull her into the chair while they moved around her in practiced formation. Clipped her hair back. Adjusted the lighting. Began.

“Morning,” her stylist said, already unzipping garment bags like they were revealing state secrets. “We’ve got two looks—one for tehs stage, one for the afterparty. You’re gonna like both, but you’re gonna love one.”

Azzi smiled, soft but sure. “Knew I could trust you.”

She sat still as they worked—moisturizer, concealer, quiet chatter filling the gaps. She knew the drill. Sit. Breathe. Let the professionals do their thing while she tried not to overthink hers.

The carpet dress was black silk, ankle-length, with a halter neckline and a slit that would photograph well but not scream trying too hard. Her makeup stayed close to natural, but her eyes were lined sharp exactly how she liked it. 

She looked at herself in the mirror when they finished. She looked good. And not just ‘for a rookie,’ not just ‘draft night ready.’ She looked like someone who belonged—who had trained her whole life for this and was getting what she deserved. 

Still, she adjusted the strap at her shoulder. Smoothed the fabric at her waist. Picked up her phone like it might ground her.

Jana: You breathe yet?

Azzi: No but at least I’ll look sexy while dying

Jana: Post a thirst trap. Establish dominance.

Azzi: You think I won’t??

She didn’t. She posted a mirror selfie mid-makeup with the caption: draft day bts. She half hoped maybe Paige would see it. But Paige didn’t even follow her so the thought was desperate and mortifying in a way she didn’t want to admit. 

The crowd in the room slowly thinned out until it was just her.

Makeup brushes packed away. Dresses zipped back into garment bags. Someone murmured something about call times and press schedules, but Azzi only half-heard it. She nodded, smiled, stayed seated.

She looked back at the mirror. Tucked a curl behind her ear. Took a breath inhaling the slight taste of hairspray and perfume. 

Tonight was about a lot of things. Her future. Her game. Her name being called first. She knew that. She could feel the weight of it behind her ribs, the stretch of everything about to change.

But still, she couldn’t stop imagining Paige seeing her like this.

Not on TV. Not through a tagged post or a highlight clip. Here. In the same room. Breathing the same air.

She didn’t even know if Paige would be there. Maybe she’d be watching from home. Maybe she wouldn’t be watching at all. Maybe this was Azzi being ridiculous—letting a decade-old crush sneak in the side door of the biggest night of her life.

But the thought lingered.

She grabbed her phone again. 

Azzi: if i trip on stage it’s not nerves it’s gay panic. tell my story right.

She sent the text and immediately threw her phone onto the bed like it was hot. Not because it was dramatic. Okay—maybe a little because it was dramatic.

She stood. Smoothed her dress again, even though it didn’t need it. The fabric was fine. The fit was perfect. It was her hands that needed something to do.

Her heart was doing that weird, too-hard, too-loud thing it did before tip-off. Only this time, there were no sneakers. No court. Just cameras and lights and the unbearable possibility of her dreams coming true in front of the woman of her dreams.

Poetry, or something like that.

She turned to the mirror. Looked at herself for a long second. The girl in the reflection looked ready.  She didn’t feel that way.

“Let’s go,” she said, quietly. To no one.  To herself. To the version of her that still didn’t totally believe this was real.

She adjusted her earrings. Lifted her chin. Took one last breath, like it might hold her together.

And then she stepped out of the room—into the hallway, into the chaos, into the version of her life she hadn’t dared to imagine too clearly. Not out loud.  Not until now.

—--

The moment she stepped onto the orange carpet, everything sharpened.

The lights. The voices. The flashbulbs that went off three at a time. It was like stepping onto another planet—one where the air smelled like hairspray and nerves and the smiles came too fast to be real.

Azzi squared her shoulders, tilted her chin half an inch higher, and kept walking.

She’d been to big events before. Red carpets in college, press days for awards., hell even NYC fashion week. But this was different. This was the night. The one she’d been working toward since she could barely dribble with her left hand.

She moved through the chaos like she’d practiced it—because she had. Step, stop, pose. Give the camera a little shoulder. Smile, but not too big. Enough to say I’m happy to be here, not I can’t feel my face.

“Azzi! Over here!”

She turned toward the voice, one arm resting at her side, the other lightly bent at the elbow. Every pose intentional. Controlled. Like her body wasn’t buzzing with the kind of nervous energy that felt suspiciously like hope.

Hope that maybe Paige was already inside. Hope that maybe she’d notice.

“Who are you wearing tonight?” someone shouted.

Azzi named the designer, barely heard herself say it. She could feel her heart under her collarbone, steady but too loud. A camera shutter clicked. Then another.

“She’s stunning,” someone near the ropes whispered. Azzi didn’t look to see who said it. Didn’t want to ruin it by knowing.

Instead, she kept moving. She made it to the midway point of the carpet before she caught sight of a familiar face.

“Yo,” someone hissed near a row of photographers. “Tell me I’m not sweating through my dress.”

Azzi turned—smiling, grateful—and found Kiara Johnson fanning herself with her hands. Her dress was fire engine red and absolutely unfair.

“You look beautiful,” Azzi said smiling. 

Kiara rolled her eyes. “Thanks. You look unbothered. Hate that for me.”

Azzi laughed, and for a moment, the cameras blurred out. The nerves, too.

Behind her, Simone was already deep into an interview, talking with her hands like the cameras might miss her otherwise. Somewhere to the left, Delaney was yanking at the top of her strapless dress like it might betray her at any second.

They were all here—lined up, glossed up, trying to look chill while buzzing out of their skin. No one said it, but everyone was thinking it: getting drafted was one thing. Making a roster? Whole different story. And the lights were hot. The makeup was sweating. The stakes were higher than any of them wanted to admit.

Azzi took a breath. Smiled. Tried to look like she belonged.

“See you on the other side,” Kiara said, brushing past her with a wink, already headed toward the interview line.

The moment slipped by, and Azzi moved with it—fielding a few more questions, posing for photos, laughing at something one of her old teammates said. She nodded, waved, kept walking.

But finally, she made it through. The final stretch of the carpet calmer. Fewer cameras. Less shouting. Just the hum of anticipation and the low thrum of music from inside the venue.

Azzi slowed her pace. Let the moment sit.

People always said draft night moved fast—that it blurred. She didn’t feel that. If anything, everything felt too sharp. The air too cool on her shoulders. The lights too bright. Her skin too tight across her ribs.

She’d done this before. Interviews. Spotlights. Moments where people clapped just because she walked into a room. But this time was different. This time, it felt like something was about to begin, and she didn’t know who she’d be on the other side of it.

She reached the end of the carpet and stepped out of frame.  But then she paused.

She glanced back—over her shoulder, slow and searching. Just in case. Just in case maybe Paige was there. Standing off to the side. Looking at her like…

She didn’t even know. She just wanted to know. But there was no one.

Just a few photographers packing up. A tech guy adjusting a boom mic. The kind of silence that hums when it’s supposed to be loud.

Azzi lingered for half a second too long. Then turned back. And stepped into her future. 

Paige’s POV 

Paige dropped onto the couch and handed Courtney a beer.

“Thanks,” Courtney said, cracking it open with the corner of her hoodie sleeve like they weren’t sitting ten feet from the kitchen.

It was draft night. The kind of thing you watched because you had to, not because you wanted to.

Paige had made it through exactly half a press request before deciding she didn’t want to be there in person. She hadn’t said why. Just texted her agent staying home. thanks though.

But she knew she needed to watch. So, here she was. 

Tori had torn her ACL three days ago—awkward landing in a non-contact drill. She’d crumpled before she even hit the paint. Paige had watched it happen. Hadn’t said much.

Now, the front office had scrambled, like they always did. Moves made over phones and closed doors, things shuffled before most people knew there was a gap.

Enter Azzi Fudd.

Number one pick. Two-time national champion. National Player of the Year. Flashy handle. Clean jumper.

Apparently league-ready, though Paige found all rookies questionable on principle. Even the good ones. Especially the ones who came in shiny and hyped and smiling too much.

She took another sip. Let the beer go warm in her mouth before swallowing. Tapped her fingers once against the bottle in her hand. And then Azzi Fudd appeared on the screen.

“Didn’t she cross up that French guard at Worlds?” Courtney asked, squinting toward the TV.

“Probably,” Paige said.

Azzi stepped onto the orange carpet in a black silk dress.

Sleek. Minimal. The kind of dress that clung just enough and moved when she walked. High neckline. Open back. Legs for days. Not showy, but precise. Every detail meant to look like it hadn’t been thought about at all—which meant it had been thought about a lot.

She posed like she’d done it before. Hand at her waist. Chin tilted just slightly. Confident. Camera-ready.

The kind of look that worked hard to seem effortless. And mostly got away with it.

Paige watched her for a second longer than she meant to. Not because she cared. She didn’t.

She just hadn’t expected her to walk like that. Like she owned the carpet. Like she knew how she looked. Like she knew people were watching and wasn’t interested in pretending otherwise.

She wasn't sure why she was surprised.

Azzi was good-looking. Everyone could probably admit that. But the confidence -

“She’s good-looking,” Courtney said, casually. Like she was reading Paige’s mind and calling her out on it before Paige could pretend otherwise.

Paige didn’t flinch. “She looks like a kid.”

Too fast. Too automatic.

Courtney turned her head. Just slightly. “That is not a kid.”

Paige brought the bottle to her lips. Didn’t drink. Her eyes drifted back to the screen, where Azzi was still smiling like the world had already said yes. And the thing was—no. She didn’t look like a kid.

Not in that dress. Not with that walk. Not with the way she tilted her chin at the camera like she already knew every eye was on her. 

She looked like someone who knew exactly what she was doing. And was probably used to getting away with it.

Trouble. 

But Paige didn’t say that. Didn’t even think it, not officially.

“She’s confident,” Courtney added.

“She’s twenty-three,” Paige said. “They’re all confident.”

It wasn’t a slight. It was just math.

Her phone buzzed, screen lighting up beside her. She glanced at it. Her agent.

Need to post a ‘welcome to Minnesota’ tonight, P. It’s a good look.

Paige rolled her eyes. Clicked the screen off without replying. She wasn’t in the mood to perform a warm reception.

She set the phone facedown on the coffee table. Picked her beer back up. The draft coverage rolled on in the background—names, stats, dresses, practiced smiles.

She didn’t watch. She already knew what she needed to know. The Lynx had a new rookie. And Paige had a season to win.

The volume was still muted when they called Azzi’s name. But the words still crossed the screen: 

“First overall pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft…the Minnesota Lynx select Azzi Fudd.”

Courtney leaned forward. “There it is.”

Paige didn’t move. Just watched as the camera panned to Azzi—already on her feet, hugging the people at her table. Composed. Moving slow. Like she’d been waiting for this moment her entire life and had no plans to let anyone else touch it.

She moved through the crowd like she belonged to it. Dress sleek, smile soft but deliberate. No stumble. No nerves showing.

“Clean,” Courtney murmured. “I’ll give her that.”

Paige made a quiet sound in her throat. Not agreement. Not disagreement either.

Azzi reached the stage, hugged the commissioner, held up the jersey with the right amount of polish. Flashes went off around her. People cheered.

Paige took another sip of her beer.

“She’s gonna be on your left,” Courtney said.

Paige shrugged. “If she earns it.”

On screen, Azzi waved at the crowd. Her smile cracked a little wider, just for a second. Genuine. Then the screen faded to black.

Paige shifted on the couch. Let the silence settle for a second. Ran through her mental list of shit she needed to get done.

And then the music kicked back in—cinematic, dramatic, over the top. The draft coverage returned with one of those slow-motion montages ESPN couldn’t resist. Azzi crossing someone up at Worlds. Azzi pulling up from the logo with zero hesitation. Azzi grinning, scissors in hand, cutting the net.

“Azzi, huge congrats. First overall—how does it feel, and what are you most looking forward to as a member of the Lynx?”

Azzi smiled. “I mean… everything, really. It’s a great team, great coaching staff. I’ve grown up watching this league, so to be part of it—especially with this franchise—feels surreal. I’m ready to learn, to work—just excited to be part of the culture.”

“She’s media trained to hell,” Courtney muttered from the far end of the couch, one leg tucked under her.

Paige didn’t respond.

Azzi was answering all the usual questions—grateful, humbled, excited to learn. She hit every note perfectly. Not too eager. Not too rehearsed. Just enough to come off smooth. And then the reporter smiled, a little too wide. A little too pointed.

“You’ll be joining a team with some serious veteran talent. I’ve gotta ask—are you excited to play with someone like Paige Bueckers?”

Paige blinked.

Courtney groaned. “Here we fucking go.”

Azzi hesitated. Barely. But enough to see it. The pause. The shift in her shoulders, like she was resetting.

She smiled again, quick and reflexive. “Yeah, of course. I mean—she’s Paige Bueckers.”

Paige closed her eyes for a second. Inhaled. Forced herself not to look over at Courtney, who she knew—without question—was sitting there with that annoying-ass grin, just waiting. Exhaled. Opened her eyes. Azzi was no longer on the screen.

Slowly, she turned her head.

“Don’t,” she warned.

Courtney held it together for maybe half a second. Then lost it—low and sharp and immediate.

“She said it like one of your fan girls.”

“She said it like someone answering a forced question on live TV.”

Courtney raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, a forced question that made her whole spine go stiff.”

Paige didn’t bite. Just kept her eyes on the screen, now back to showing some other prospect hugging their family.

Courtney leaned back, grinning. “I’m just saying—if she goes all shy and stuttery every time you walk in the room? I’m not gonna survive.”

“She’ll be fine.”

Courtney snorted. “You sure? 'Cause right now she’s out here sounding like she still got your jersey saved in her closet.”

Paige stared ahead, expression flat. “You done?”

“For now.”

Paige sighed. “She’s a kid, Court. It’s draft night. She was nervous.”

“Nervous about playing with the Paige Bueckers,” Courtney squealed, lifting her hands like she was presenting a prize on a game show.

Paige clenched her jaw, “Why the fuck did I invite you over again?”

Courtney shrugged. “Because I’m one of the few people who still put up with your ass.”

Paige scoffed. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, cracking open another drink. “But I’m right.”

Paige didn’t argue.

—----------

Later that night, after the noise had faded and the apartment had gone still, Paige crawled into bed and stared at the text from her agent. She didn’t roll her eyes, but the instinct was there.

She knew she should do it. She’d known since before the draft even started. Since the trade went through. Since someone in PR mentioned “messaging alignment” and how nice it would be if she tapped in as a vet.

A simple post. A “Welcome to Minnesota.” A teammate move. The kind of thing that looked good. That people noticed.

She remembered her own draft night. The nerves that crept in after the cameras cut. The way everything felt bigger than she was, even if she didn’t show it.

And she remembered what it meant—seeing a name she recognized in her notifications. A vet she respected saying something as small as can’t wait to hoop.

She hadn’t known, at the time, if she belonged yet. If she’d be accepted. That one message hadn’t fixed it, but it had helped.

Paige sighed, unlocked her phone, and started typing.

She didn’t follow Azzi yet. She hadn’t thought about it. Not really her thing to follow people before they showed up. Rookies came and went. Most of them weren’t worth tracking until they were in the gym.

But Azzi was going to be her teammate. Number one picks don't go anywhere.

And so, Paige typed “azzi” into the search bar. First result. Blue check. Profile picture of her in a UCLA uniform. 

She tapped follow. Found a photo of her holding the jersey on stage. Shared it to her story. 

Typed:

Welcome to Minnesota. Let’s work. Tagged her. Posted it.

Then she locked her phone, flipped it face down on the nightstand, and turned out the light.

Azzi’s POV

The afterparty was loud, gold-lit, and dripping in free liquor. Azzi was still wearing her heels—even though she swore she wouldn’t be that girl—but the champagne buzz made it easier to lie to her calves.

She was mid-laugh when Caroline grabbed her by the wrist, yanked her away from the circle of girls around the DJ booth, and shoved her phone into Azzi’s face like it was breaking news.

“AZZI.”

Azzi turned, grinning. “Jesus. What?”

Caroline didn’t speak. Just shoved her phone forward again like it was a bomb. “Look.”

Azzi squinted. Read what was on the screen. Blinked once. And then fully screamed.

Because there it was. Paige Bueckers’ Instagram story. 

Welcome to Minnesota. Let’s work, @/azzifudd. Tagged. Plain as day.

Azzi clapped a hand over her mouth. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No, no, no.”

“Yes, bitch!”

Azzi grabbed Caroline’s phone like it might vanish. Stared at the story. The caption. Her name. Her face. Paige fucking Bueckers had posted her.

“Did she follow me?” Azzi asked, voice already an octave too high.

“Yes.”

“She tagged me?”

“YES.”

Azzi shrieked again. Someone turned and looked. She didn’t care. She was pacing in tiny drunk circles, heels clacking against marble, one hand still holding her drink like a lifeline, the other pressed flat to her chest.

“I’m gonna throw up,” she said.

Caroline looked delighted. “No, you’re gonna cry. Then you’re gonna DM her. And then you’re gonna marry her.”

Azzi stopped mid-circle. “Do I DM her?”

Caroline blinked, like she couldn't believe Azzi took that seriously. “Are you insane?”

“Yes?”

Azzi fumbled for her own phone. Opened Instagram. Her hands were sweaty. Her brain was screaming. But there it was. Paige Bueckers. Blue check. Following you.

She screamed. Again.

Caroline absolutely cackled. “You’re gonna combust,” she wheezed, clutching her stomach.

Azzi didn’t answer. Just leaned back against the wall, head tipped toward the ceiling like if she moved even a little, the alcohol and adrenaline sloshing around inside her might actually spill out.

“She posted me,” she whispered.

“Yup.”

“She knows I exist.”

“She definitely does.”

Azzi dropped her phone. Caroline caught it mid-air.

“I peaked,” Azzi said, eyes glassy. “It’s all downhill from here.”

Caroline laughed so hard she snorted. “This is the gayest moment of your life.”

“So far,” Azzi shot back, managing a wink.

Caroline cracked up again, and Azzi just sat there—grinning like a dumbass and letting herself have it. The moment. The buzz. The quiet shock of it actually happening.

And yeah, sure—maybe the woman she’d been casually obsessed with since she was eighteen had just acknowledged her existence...publicly. And maybe her brain had short-circuited a little. But this wasn’t just about Paige.

This was hers.

Her name. Her number. Her jersey. The dream she’d chased across a thousand late nights and long practices, now finally unfolding—loud and real and hers.

—-

Her and Caroline ended up in bed together.

Not like that. Just sideways across the hotel mattress, still in their dresses, makeup smudged, Azzi’s heels abandoned somewhere under the desk. The lights were off, save for the glow of Caroline’s phone screen and the pale halo of the city bleeding through the window. Azzi was lying dramatically on her back, one arm flung over her face.

“She posted me,” she whispered for the third time that hour.

“Yes, Azzi.” Caroline’s voice was dry. “She posted you. We know. We have analyzed every font, every pixel, every breath of it.”

Azzi lifted her phone off her stomach and tilted it toward her face again. Paige’s story was still up. Still tagged. Still maddeningly casual.

“Do you think she picked that picture on purpose?” she asked.

“I think the options were limited.”

“But it's a good photo.”

Caroline rolled onto her side. “You looked hot. She noticed. Congrats.”

Azzi groaned, half-smiling. “She didn’t notice.”

“She did.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m saying that because it’s true.”

They were quiet for a second. Just the sound of distant traffic, the soft hum of the hotel AC, and the fizz of Azzi’s brain trying not to read too much into something that probably wasn’t anything.

Probably.

“I should repost it,” Azzi said finally.

“Yes,” Caroline said, without hesitation.

Azzi stared at her screen.

“What do I say?”

“Don’t overthink it.”

“I am overthinking it.”

“I know.”

Azzi hovered over the repost button for a full minute. Then tapped it. Drafted three different captions. Deleted all of them. Groaned into the pillow. Caroline waited, patient like the best friends always are when you’re being slightly insane but they loved you anyway. 

Finally, Azzi typed:

Let’s. Then added a basketball emoji. A wolf. A white heart. Paused. And hit post.

The story blinked up on her screen. Her name and Paige’s, together. Not side by side, exactly, but close enough. She exhaled, dropping the phone on the mattress between them.

Caroline nudged her knee. “Proud of you.”

Azzi smiled. Soft. Sleepy. “She’s probably not even thinking about it.”

Caroline shrugged. “Maybe not.”

They let the silence settle again. The good kind. The kind that means everything is still, and sweet, and safe.  Eventually, Caroline fell asleep. Azzi didn’t. Not right away.

Instead, she lay there blinking up at the ceiling, heart still doing that stupid flutter thing every time she thought Paige knows who I am.

Her phone kept buzzing. Someone replied to her story with fire emojis. Another repost. Another tag. Her mentions were chaos, but she didn’t check them.

Instead, she opened her own profile. Scrolled. Paused on a selfie with a suggestive caption from last summer. Deleted.

Another one—captioned something like wife me—gone.

A photo in Paige’s college jersey, posted years ago with an “accidental” crop that still showed the number? Archive.

She kept going. Just in case. Not because she cared what Paige thought. She didn’t. Not really.

She just wanted to seem…cool. Chill. Like she hadn’t been watching Paige play since she was young and realized just how good Paige was. Like she hadn’t watched her interview clips on YouTube, or bought that hoodie the second Paige wore it in a tunnel fit.

Azzi groaned quietly into her pillow. This was so dumb. She was a professional now. A grown-ass adult. Still, she archived one more post, just to be safe.

Then finally, she turned off her screen, slid the phone under her pillow, and rolled onto her side. Caroline was snoring softly behind her.

Paige Bueckers had tagged her. And now, they were teammates.

God help her.

—---

Training camp came quicker than she was prepared for.

One minute, she was still drunk off adrenaline and nice champagne, doing half-coherent interviews in a silk dress. The next, she was alone in her car with her duffel bag in the passenger seat and her knees shaking like it was the first day of high school.

The Lynx practice facility rose ahead, sleek and intimidating, like it was designed specifically to make rookies question their entire life.

Azzi stared out the window. Tried to breathe like a normal person.

She could do this. She had done this—first days, new teams, pressure so thick it pressed against her chest like a physical weight. She knew how to show up. Knew how to play.

Still, her legs wobbled when she stepped out. Maybe it was the cold. Maybe it was Paige Bueckers.

(Probably Paige Bueckers.)

She pulled her hoodie tighter around her neck, shifted her bag over her shoulder, and walked toward the doors like they weren’t the gateway to her actual childhood dream.

The glass reflected her face back at her—tired eyes, lips pressed into something that was almost a smile. She squared her shoulders.

This was fine. She was fine. Totally, absolutely, one-hundred-percent fine.

She stepped inside.

The air was cool and smelled like disinfectant and money—cleaner than any gym she’d ever trained in. The kind of place built for greatness. The kind of place that didn’t just expect banners and trophies but demanded them.

Azzi paused just past the entrance, eyes catching on the wall to her right. Photos stretched down the hallway—players frozen mid-crossover, mid-celebration, mid-legacy. Maya Moore. Seimone Augustus. Napheesa Collier.

And then...

Paige Bueckers.

Azzi’s eyes caught on that one. Briefly. Too briefly. She looked away fast enough to give herself whiplash, like if she didn’t acknowledge it, it wouldn’t register.

It was a good photo though. Intense. A little smug. Paige had her hands on her hips, chin tipped like she already knew she’d won — because she probably had. That kind of quiet confidence you couldn’t teach, just had to be born with.

And yeah. Maybe Azzi had once saved that exact photo to her phone. For, you know. Motivation. But she had deleted it last week like any normal person would. 

Azzi adjusted the strap on her duffel and kept walking. Kept ignoring the creeping thoughts threatening to topple her. 

She didn’t need to stare at a wall of greatness and spiral about where she fit in. Or worse: imagine what her photo would look like up there one day.

What if I never make it?

Nope. Not today.

Today, she had one job: walk in like she belonged. Even if her stomach was flipping and her palms were clammy and her brain was already shouting don’t say anything weird to Paige Bueckers.

One step at a time, she forced herself to think.

She pushed open the locker room door and stepped in, trying to look chill. She wasn’t.

The place was already alive. Bass pulsing through the speakers, someone laughing from the far corner, the sharp rip of a duffel unzipping. It smelled like eucalyptus and someone’s overpriced lotion, warm and floral and a little too strong.

Heads turned.

“Look who finally showed up,” Bridget said, lounging in a sports bra and sweats, socked feet kicked up. “Miss Number One.”

A few others laughed, and Courtney gave her a nod from across the room. “Go ‘head and find a seat, rookie.”

Azzi smiled because what else could she do? She gave a small wave, muttered, “Nice to meet y’all,” and found the open locker with her name on it. 

A few players came over to introduce themselves. A little side hug from Alanna. Another grin from Courtney as she passed with a protein shake in one hand and her phone in the other.

“Welcome to the league,” she said, tossing it over her shoulder like it wasn’t the coolest thing anyone had ever said to her.

Azzi smiled again, this time a little tighter. She was trying not to scan the room too obviously, but the longer she stood there, the more obvious it felt.

No Paige.

The absence settled over her like static. Not loud, but present.

She didn’t say anything. Just peeled off her hoodie, folding it with too much care—like it was the most important thing she'd do all day. She stuffed it into her duffel and wiped her palms on her leggings, fingers twitching.

Eyes darted around again.

Still no Paige.

“You good?” Alanna asked, passing by again.

“Yeah,” Azzi said quickly. “Just… taking it in.”

“I get it,” She said with a small smile. “But you got drafted for a reason. So, remember that.”

Azzi nodded and tried to keep breathing.

She reached for the hem of her shirt and yanked it up, halfway over her head, arms caught for a second, shoulder twisting awkwardly.

Of course, that’s when the door swung open behind her. Because timing was a cruel, heartless bitch.

She stilled. The fabric still clinging to one arm.

And then, the room shifted in that subtle, almost imperceptible way that happens when someone important walks in. Energy coiling. Conversations dipping.

She yanked the shirt off with a violent twist, hair static-y and sticking to her face, and turned around and almost died.

Paige Bueckers. In the flesh. Black hoodie. Basketball shorts. Tall. Blonde. Looking like a deleted scene from a Nike commercial. Like she hadn’t just walked into Azzi’s most persistent daydream.

Azzi stood there, caught mid-breath, shirt clutched in her hands like she was preparing to wave it as a white flag.

Paige’s eyes flicked to her. Not in a weird way. Just in a normal, I-am-acknowledging-you-as-a-human-being way.

And then she nodded.

Just a nod. A small, neutral nod. Like good morning, or I see you exist, or I didn’t just walk in on you shirtless, don't make it a thing.

Azzi nodded back. A simple gesture. Easy. Universal.

Except—no. Not the way she did it.  Too fast. Too eager. Like a bobblehead with something to prove.

Cool, she thought. Real chill. Definitely nailed the nod. But then came the panic spiral.

Was it too sharp? Too aggressive? Had she nodded up or down? Was it more of a chin lift? What if Paige thought she was challenging her? What if it looked like a salute? Oh god—what if it looked like a bow?

She didn’t dare glance back to check.

Instead, she turned to her locker, opened it with forced purpose, and stared into the abyss of the empty space like it held the meaning of life.

She could feel Paige’s presence behind her. That quiet, steady energy. The kind that didn’t need to fill space because it already owned it.

Azzi, meanwhile, was contemplating the physics of spontaneous combustion.

She took out her water bottle. Put it back. Took it out again. Her hand was shaking slightly, which was fun and normal. And then, because apparently her body was still committed to ruining her life, she nodded again.

At no one. To herself. As if to say: Yes. Good. Great. You are the nodding champ!

She blinked at the wood shelf in front of her and whispered under her breath, “Kill me.”

Then she slapped the locker shut and sat down like everything was fine.

(It wasn't.)

Paige’s POV

Paige pushed open the locker room door, hoodie sleeves shoved up, headphones still around her neck. Familiar voices bounced around the space—Courtney arguing with Bridget about something dumb, someone laughing near the back. Normal. Comfortable.

She stepped inside.

Azzi Fudd was halfway out of her shirt, arms stuck, shoulder twisted awkwardly like her body had forgotten the mechanics of sleeves. Paige barely registered it, just enough to slow her pace, glance once.

Azzi finally yanked the shirt off. Hair clinging to her face, cheeks already pink. She turned around like she’d been summoned. And froze.

They made direct eye contact. Azzi’s eyes blowing wide. Paige blinked, looked around the room for a beat, wondering if she’d missed something—spilled drink, surprise visitor, fire alarm. But no. Just Azzi. Still staring. Still mid-panic.

So Paige nodded. Simple. Casual. Nothing loaded. Just Hey.

Azzi nodded back. If you could call it that. It was more like a full-body twitch. Quick. Panicked. Slight unhinged. And maybe even painful.

Paige arched a brow before continuing to walk. But from the corner of her eye, she saw it: Azzi staring into her locker like it was a portal to another dimension. Pulling out a water bottle. Putting it back. Pulling it out again.

Then, unbelievably, nodding. Again. At no one.

Beside her, Courtney let out a low snort, knocking their shoulders together on instinct. Paige didn’t look over. Just rolled her eyes, pulled her headphones off, tucked them into her locker.

Didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. But in her head, one word rang clear and smug:

Trouble.

[yeokii]

KiSS A KiTTY ⠀⠀⠀⠀🧺 a kitty for you ✿◌ֹ 𝑦𝑒𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑖 ⎯⎯⎯ 𝑚'𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗍 ִ⠀

❛ 𝗠𝗘𝗢𝗪! ❜ 🧸 ﹢﹒넌 밤하늘의 춤이 그리 궁금해 ◌ ゛𝗌𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 ─── 𝑓𝑙'𝑜 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 분홍 젤리 all you want to do is to kiss that pout away from jungwon's lips ❨ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ❩ '

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝑙'𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒 ── i bet she's silky smooth, and she got attitude. i don't wanna kill it, i wanna kiss a kitty! .⠀ 🎀

'⠀•⠀🧺 ──𝗄𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌. ( bfwonie&fmr ) 𓈒 ◌ 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗁 fluff yikes ◞  2OO4⠀╱ 6hun : 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ‧ sulky won / 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ⋆ ˊ ✿𓍢 𝐖𝐎𝐍 ˋ (⠀𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽 .⠀) liek&reblog! 𝟢𝟪𝖫𝖨𝖭 ✉️ 𝝑𝝔

🐰 : was clawing my hand writing this im never doing fluff again.

it was cute, really. jungwon had this pout on his face the entire day. giving you small hmph's whenever you look at him and break into a smile. was he mad at you? you could only giggle at his grumpy face.

"baby, what's wrong hm?" you ask him, finally dropping the book you've been reading.

he shrugged, acting like he didn't have clue on what you were talking about.

"baby." you voice sounded more stern making him finally look at you. by now, you've closed the distance between you and him on your small couch.

"well, you should know what's wrong." you could only hear a mumble from him.

you cup his face with one hand and put your other on his lap. what went wrong?

what's gotten this kitty so grumpy?

you giggle at his pout, his lips looked more enticing than ever.

he finally broke, "just say you hate me."

you laughed.

jungwon looked at you in disbelief. you're laughing?

"so this is funny to you?"

not at all. the accusation brought a fit of laughter from you. it was insane that he would think you hated your boyfriend — the only person who'd check up on you whenever you felt down and who would give you endless cuddles even when you didn't ask for it.

you couldn’t ever hate him.

"baby, you’re so stupid." you were straddling him now, looking down at him with a smile. he returned a blush, his skin hot against yours.

"you’ve been ignoring me all day," he said, his hands resting on your hips like they belonged there.

"i’m sorry, wonie. i told you i was working on my project, hm?" by now, he had his face nuzzled in your neck, finally inhaling your scent which he missed all day.

"a kiss wouldn’t hurt. or two."

you ran your fingers through his hair, giggling at this needy boy. "i’d give you a million kisses if you asked."

he pulled away and looked up at you with eyes pleading. "really?"

of course. how could you not, when he was sitting there all cute, puckering his lips?

you leaned in slowly, brushing your lips against his. jungwon’s kitty eyes fluttered shut. your fingers brushed the sides of his jaw. you could hear his breath hitch. you knew he needed more. he needed you.

but you pulled away with a mischievous smile, letting out a small giggle.

"that wasn’t a kiss." his eyes opened instantly, looking betrayed and confused.

"you said you wanted one."

"that wasn’t even a kiss. that was like... cruel." chuckling at his needy behavior as he whined, your eyes kept going back to his lips—the pout he had before returning again.

"wan’ another one," he huffed.

"yeah? and what do i get in return?"

"me."

"i already have you, baby." you smiled at him.

"well, i don’t have your kisses."

cute, you thought.

"awh, well we can’t have that." you finally gave in, pulling him closer and closing the gap between you two.

his grip on your hips tightened immediately, and he kissed you like there was no tomorrow. there was no hesitation like before, no teasing. jungwon melted into the kiss, his lips moving with yours perfectly like he was made for you.

you could tell he had been waiting all day for this.

you pulled away. "happy?"

he nodded. "might need another one," he said before pulling you in again.

tags. @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @voikiraz @miumura @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss @naespas @isoobie @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @aishigrey @firstclassjaylee @rikislove @hynjinnnnnnnn

⠀⠀𝖺 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗂 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽. do not copy, repost or translate my works

[clovermoters]

fresh out the slammer - spy!ln4 x spy!reader

summary - after months of heartache over the loss of your boyfriend, he finally comes home.

warnings - description of some violence, small amounts of angst, reader crys.....ALOT, kisses!

wc: 2.4k!!

authors notes - incase u couldnt tell im obsessed with spy au's so i had to write my own! as always i hope you enjoy and reblogs and likes are always appreciated, lots of love, clove!

the sound of your heels across the marble floor of the london headquarters pierced through the silence as you made your way through the sleek office. 

it had been four months since lando had left undercover to infiltrate redbull– a branch in the agency that was suspected to have gone rogue–, you lost contact one month ago. 

The agency presumed him dead. 

You remember when they told you, calling you to the very room you were making way to. It was a dark day, the sky had cried centimeters of rain throughout the day, as if it was foreshadowing the grief you’d come to feel that very evening.

Zak Brown, the head of the Mclaren Institute in the FIA Spy Agency, sat across from you. Sometimes, you can still faintly hear the sorrow in his voice as he told you the news

“As of today, agent 004 is presumed dead after loss of contact for more that 120 hours”

You remember the way your stomach twisted, something heavy settling in the pit as you tried to keep your stomach contents down

It felt like a piece of you had been torn right from you, ripped at the jagged seams in the shape of your lover.. tears pouring from your eyes as you listened to what was next, telling his parents, moving his things to storage, cleaning out his office. 

His office was the hardest part for you. 

you'd spent countless hours in that office, often you’d be found there more than your own office. The sound of both your laughter isolated the walls, providing a sense of comfort in your busy days. 

It was where you had your first kiss with him, clad in sweatpants at 2am, a pizza box forgotten as you two lied on the floor, brains fried from combing through files and finishing paperwork from your previous mission together. 

The day after they told you, you didn't leave your apartment— the apartment that had remnants of him in every corner, like it was taunting you that he was gone. You grieved Lando for weeks, taking administrative leave from your duties to spend time with his family, mourning the loss of your boyfriend. 

So why the hell did they want you in office? 

You walked to the receptionist desk, the young woman looked new. Her hair up neat as she typed away on her computer doing god knows what. 

“I’m here to see agent Brown” you say, voice wavering slightly. The woman does a few mouse clicks, then looks at her screen, then back to you. 

“Agent 003?” 

shivers run up your spine as you nod, lando had told you to pick 003 the day you both made field agents. He told you that he wanted your number next to his so you could be partners for all of eternity. 

How you hated that your number now stood alone.

She instructed you to sit down as Brown was still handling a previous matter. You picked at your fingers as you waited, the late evening sunset casting a glow throughout the room. Other agents were scattered around, doing paperwork, chatting with coffee as you sat in your own world. 

You thought back to the day he left, waking up in his arms to the sound of downtown London. Clinging to each other as you get ready, soaking in the feel of his touch before you were deprived of it. It had been a cozy morning. 

You kissed him sweetly at the front door, and then again in the car, and then again when you reached the agency. Held his hand tightly until he had to get on the chopper, he looked at you like he was memorizing every inch of your face one final time. 

“Ill see you soon” he placed one final kiss to your lips, certain and slow. A final goodbye before you watched the helicopter rise into the sky. 

He was smiling out the window as you stayed still on the helipad, tears filling your eyes, watching the love of your life leave for what you didn't know would be forever. 

“Agent 003?” The urgent voice of Zak Brown shook you from your thoughts. You rose to your feet, wobbling slightly as you entered the office before taking a seat on the familiar leather beneath you. 

“Hi y/n, how are you doing?” There was caution in the way he asked, like he was defusing a time bomb. Though his body was calm– relaxed even, as if he met you for a cup of coffee to catch up, not check in on one of his grieving agents. 

“Im…managing” you pick at the hem of your knit sweater, your eyes trained to the picture of your agency graduation class placed just behind Zak, you and Lando stood out in the photo, found next to each other with beaming, identical smiles. 

The man leaned forward as if he was telling you a secret, “I have some good news for you” you tilted your chin at him. He took a deep breath before he continued. 

“They found him, Landos alive.”

Your brain stopped, short circuiting as if pouring water onto an electrical circuit

He was fucking with you surely, the man always had a love for jokes but this was too far.

“Thats not funny,” you say quickly, ignoring the way your voice wavered. “after all my years working for the agency, you have the audacity too-” you're cut off by the shrill of the phone ringing. 

Zak answered the phone “Brown...yup shes here…” it was silent for a few seconds the faint murmur coming through the phone was impossible for you to understand. “Yup we’ll be up there in a moment” he hung up, looking at you with a smile. 

“Lets go” he urged you out of the room, you followed him to the elevator frantically asking where you were going. What was going on?

 He hit the button to the roof and you almost stepped out the metal box, which felt like it was increasingly becoming smaller. You step towards the sliding doors “No- Zak, i cant do this-” 

He grabs your arm gently before you can make your exit, pulling you back into the elevator “trust me agent, your going to want to be up here” 

The lift moved slowly, each floor felt like a lifetime, a soft ding ringed in your ears as it reached the top, the doors opening to the helipad where you watched him leave months ago and you felt like you were going to be sick. Your stomach twisting more with every step you took.

You heard it before you saw it, the blades slicing the air as they carried the helicopter over the horizon. Your breath hitched in your throat as it descended onto the helipad. You couldn't breathe, the door opened and no one moved. 

The helicopter's engine came to a stop as you watched a familiar pair of air forces place themselves on the concrete, you took a small step forward, behind you Zak stiffened. 

Then you saw him. 

His hair was longer, grown into more of a mullet with curls going in eight different directions. His knuckles were bruised and he had a small split in his lip, but he was here. He was alive.

You rushed to him, his eyes met yours and he made his way. You met half way but you were hesitant to reach for him, as if you weren't truly convinced he was standing in front of you.  

your silence gave your idiot boyfriend an idea.

He blinked “Who are you?” 

your heart dropped. You couldn't breathe, stuttering, you tried to speak but your words died in your sternum. 

This couldn't be happening you thought. 

Lando broke out into a huge smile seconds later “kidding! I'm kidding!” he breathes, you exhale, emotions boiling over as tears flow down your cheeks, his gaze softens. 

“ohmygod im kidding.. hi baby,” he pulled you into his arms immediately, you melted into him, your arms gripping onto his back like he’d disappear if you let go, and you’d wake up to an empty bed again. The thought made you squeeze him tighter. 

His touch was warm, his hug grounding you into the reality that you've been floating in for what felt like years. You stayed like that, rocking back and forth in each other's arms, tears of relief silently falling while Lando shushed you softly. 

Lando pulled back, his eyes pouring into yours, it felt like your souls were intertwining after months of separation. tethering you to him as he pulled you in for a deep kiss, you kissed him back, hard. His hands cupped your cheeks as he drank the kiss like it was his source of oxygen. It was as if you were drowning and his lips had the sweet taste of fresh air.  

You pulled away, sending him a harsh glare, sending a blow to his chest "don't do that!” you muttered with no real anger behind it  “You gave me a heart attack” 

He just chuckles as he finds his own tears of happiness start to slip freely down his cheeks, while he wipes yours. “I know I'm sorry, I had to do it, come on!” he jokes, pulling you back into his embrace. His hand stroking your hair as you cried in his arms, finally feeling like you could breathe after months of agony and pain. 

He greeted Zak, shaking hands while his other stayed intertwined with yours refusing to let go as you return downstairs, agents clapping as you walk through the corridors, smiling as they welcome one of their own home. 

“Welcome back agent” Zak spoke proudly as he led you to the medical bay, mentioning some tests they wanted to run on lando before he was safe to go home. 

You never left his side, you stayed curled next to him in that small medical cot while his IV dripped. You watched the colour slowly bleed into his face again, his eyes returning to their natural shade of green. 

Your head rested on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as your eyes fought sleep. Real sleep, the kind of slumber you haven't had in months, not without him in your arms. 

In the midst of the quiet, Lando spoke softly, you almost missed it. “They held me hostage ” 

You lifted your head, your gaze finding him as his fingers ran up and down your forearm.

“They kidnapped me in the middle of the night, left Oscar a note along with my gps device.” he took a shaky breath. “they wanted me to sell out the other agents undercover, give them intel on the MTL assignment.. They wanted anything that could harm the institute.” your eyes watched his stay trained on his knuckles. Bruises accompany scabs across his hand from what you learned was when he had to punch his way to freedom. 

"They tortured me, physically and mentally, told me I was just some kid who didn't have what it takes to be a top level agent, until one night I escaped, fought my way out and ran back to base where I found Oscar cleaning out my stuff, called for a rescue team immediately” 

Your heart broke listening to your boyfriend speak, you remembered the day Oscar came to London for a report after Lando was presumed dead, shaken at the loss of his friend. he brought you some of his things he kept on base, and held you while you cried. 

You placed a featherlight kiss to his hairline, “you're alive, and you’re home. That's all that matters” 

The doctor came in shortly after, the woman explaining Lando had some bruised ribs and was very dehydrated. Ordering him to rest at home for a foreseeable future, taking his mental wellbeing into account of his recovery. 

– 

It was late when you finally entered your apartment, the sun dipping below the horizon as the air turned cooler. 

The apartment was silent as you two made your way inside, Lando almost felt foreign in a place he’s spent countless hours, he’d only been gone four months but it felt like everything changed. This was his home with you, the roof you two built a life under. He spent nights dreaming of coming home to you, now that he’s finally here he worries he’ll be a guest in his own home. 

You twisted the key before slowly opening the wooden door, revealing the dimly lit apartment. It looked exactly the same, part from some wilted bouquet of flowers and a new throw blanket found on the couch. 

Lando took a step inside, his shoulders relaxing as he took in his surroundings, the familiar scent of your favourite candle you must’ve been burning before you got Zak's call. 

He noticed there were more pictures up, moments of your life together framed and hung around the apartment like it was a museum. You walk in behind him, seeing his eyes trace the pictures. 

“Your mum framed those,” he turns around as you say quietly, feeling a lump in your throat. “she thought they would’ve been nice additions for me to have– to uh– to remember you by-” you choke on your words as a small sob shakes from your lips. 

 Lando strides towards you, pulling you into a hug “hey hey hey, im here baby, im alive, im not going anywhere.” he shushes, his hands wrap around your waist as you buried your face in his shoulder. “Im so sorry, it must’ve been so hard for you” he whispers, holding you tightly as you offer a small nod. 

You pull away, sending him a small smile while you wipe your cheeks dry, sighing before taking his hands in yours. “It was hard, but you're here, you're safe, and I want to sleep next to my boyfriend again so can we please go to bed and worry about everything else tomorrow?” 

Lando returns a smile to you, placing a kiss onto the tip of your nose “yeah baby lets go to bed”

And you did, you fell asleep that night wrapped in each other's arms. Limbs tangled together as your breathing synched with one another. sleepy mumbles of “i missed you” into his skin could be heard before sleep pulled you both under. 

You both slept like babies, finally feeling the warmth of each other's touch after your skin ran cold for months. No night terrors of the other being alone and afraid shaking you awake, just you two, holding each other tightly, finally at peace.

hehehe hope u enjoyed

[jmtorres]

this seems like an exaggeration of what i've seen people describe in arguments about chatgpt (although perhaps not an exaggeration of the experience itself).

what i've actually seen people say is something to the effect of if you've waited til the last minute because you don't know how to write the essay so you turn to chatgpt, no you don't pull an all-nighter and write some bullshit. --and the thing is, AS a chronic procrastinator with undiagnosed untreated ADHD who kinda had to do that a lot, it was never because my teachers hadn't given me weeks to do an assignment, it was my own brain fuckery. So it's not an inherent part of learning, and it didn't occur to me to think anyone was arguing that.

Could colleges screen students for learning issues like ADHD and support them instead of making people ask for accommodations? would be nice. that would definitely improve the college experience.

But also there's stuff on offer already that most students don't use, like the time I had for assignments but couldn't make myself do them in. If you're not sure how to do an assignment or what your instructor wants: almost every college I've ever heard of requires instructors to have office hours and almost no students take advantage of them. Instructors hate office hours because they have to sit there and wait around and hardly anyone ever shows up. It usually makes their day if a student actually wants to talk. (source: my dad is a bio prof at a state university.)

my brother is about to sign up for college classes and the school he's going to requires incoming students to take a "freshman experience" class which the description says is supposed to help you with things like time management and being aware of what resources the college offers. (at this school this class comes in two flavors: "you're straight out of high school" and "you've been away from school for a while," which seems cool to me because those groups need help with different things!) I am sure if I were signing up for classes myself I'd think "ugh what a waste of time I want to get to the interesting stuff," but on my brother's behalf I'm like "yes you need that. holy crap i needed that back in the day when it wasn't a thing yet."

I can't speak to med school or law school, although I understand they are deliberate wringers and shitty as fuck for disabled people.

And there's certainly ways undergrad could be improved. If it didn't cost so fucking much, for instance, people could more easily choose to focus on study and not work while in college. And wouldn't be under so much pressure to finish quickly so they wouldn't have to pay for more semesters. Lots of countries cover undergraduate education for all, I'd like to see that reform in the US.

And also, students should use university resources that they don't and sometimes don't even know exist.

Honestly my best advice is: talk to a university librarian. If you're having a tough time in a particular subject, chances are they've written a topic guide with a list of relevant books, journal articles and websites. If you have a question about stuff on campus, they either know or can tell you who to ask. If you are struggling to use the library system itself, they know most students come in not knowing how to use a university library to research and they WANT to tell you about it.

I'm listening to myself and I can see how many people would rather go to a computer program than ask another human being, especially one in a position of authority, for help; I'm not sure what to do about that. If resources exist but you have to ask about them and that's the bar people aren't clearing, what is the solution? Thoughts?

i completely understand & agree with the backlash against students using chatgpt to get degrees but some of you are out here saying "getting a degree in xyz means pulling multiple consecutive all-nighters and writing essays through debilitating migraines and having severe back pain from constantly studying at your desk and chugging energy drinks until you get a kidney stone and waking up wishing you were dead every day, and that's just part of the natural process of learning!!!" and like. umm. i don't think that any of us should have had to endure that either. like maybe the solution for stopping students from using anti-learning software depends on college institutions making the process of learning actually sustainable on the human body & mind rather than a grueling health-destroying soul-crushing endeavor

[bxeckers222]

summary: your job took you back to dallas, where you knew you would see Paige, your ex girlfriend.

word count : about 6k

warnings!! // smut, fingering (r!receiving), strap (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving)

pls don’t judge it’s my first time writing so i hope you enjoy

It’s been 3 months. 3 months since I last watched her play, since I last went to her apartment after her game like I always did. Since that stupid argument that ended everything. god i miss her. I can’t seem to shake the thought of Paige Bueckers.

It was a dumb argument, really. Something about how she felt suffocated, how she needed space. But I did everything for her. How could she feel that way?

I’m back in Dallas, something for work. I work in the media field, sports specifically. I was always here, it was nothing new. There are plenty of things to photograph. Magazines, blogs, you name it, it needs pictures. Not to mention the fact that I’m damn good at what I do. My agents told me that I would be photographing a sports game today, and god i prayed it wasn’t for the Dallas Wings.

Sure enough, my day couldn’t get any worse.

I was sitting in my hotel room, when my agent texted me.

“Hey, y/n. Today, you’ll be taking pictures at the Dallas Wings game. Have fun!”

“fuck me.” I thought. I knew it was my job, but the idea of seeing Paige after everything felt insufferable. After all, it’s my job, and I knew it had to be done.

“Thank you, boss! Will do!” shit. this was all getting too real now. I glanced at the clock, the time reads 4 p.m. A little over 2 hours until I face her again.

6 pm. fuck.

i walked into the gym with my camera in hand, all eyes were immediately on me. Fans, coaches, basically everyone knew my past with Paige, it wasn’t a secret.

Through piercing eyes and other camera flashes, I found my way to a corner of the gym and started setting up my camera. Nerves were through the roof at this point, and I can feel my hands shaking as I fidget with the camera lens.

after i had finished setting up my station, i turned to sit my bag down and that’s when i locked eyes with her. yes, her. the same girl i was in a screaming match with 3 months ago, the same girl i dreaded seeing, the same girl i was still so stupidly in love with. the same girl i couldn’t help but miss despite everything. Paige. Madison. Bueckers.

i had never seen someone look away so fast. her eyes were there, and then they weren’t. my heart immediately dropped to my stomach, i felt like i couldn’t breathe. it’s like a wave of deja vu i couldn’t get rid of and that same feeling i had 3 months ago was back. i thought i was over it, or atleast i hoped i was, but holy shit. those blue eyes, those stupid, beautiful blue eyes, know how to get me every time.

it didn’t effect me. i promised i wouldn’t let it effect me.

fuck. did it?

no.

wait.

it did.

it effected me more than i wanted to admit. those two seconds her eyes were locked on mine, honestly, felt like home. felt like everything was like it was supposed to be. but wait, shit. it’s not my place to feel like that anymore.

the game starts and Paige was in her element. moving gracefully and efficiently, like she was born to be here. she was. this was her home, not me anymore, if i ever was. i was reading too much into two seconds of eye contact. Paige was born for basketball, not to be suffocated with a love like mine.

it’s around the start of the second quarter when i see it. shes shooting foul shots and i notice it. i notice the same spin she does with the ball before she shoot’s. i always noticed the little things. how she would always pray before she ate, and before games. how she would always stay close to me when she was drunk, and that stupid fucking spin with the ball before foul shots. everything’s coming back to me, and not at a good time.

i managed to make it through the rest of the game, taking pictures and moving around the court, trying everything i could to keep my mind off her. did it work? not so much.

the game ended, the wings lost, but are we surprised? my main goal was to get out of there before i did something i regretted.

would i regret it?

yes.

would i?

i dont want to find out.

i had just zipped my bag and began to walk towards the exit of the gym, and thats when i felt it. there was eyes on me, not just the eyes of nosey fans, or old friends, but her eyes. i knew. i just knew. i turned to look and there she was, staring at me the same way she did when we locked eyes earlier. i didn’t know what to do, so i gave a small smile. and that’s when i seen it, she mouthed “wait.”

wait?

like here?

i waited.

i knew i shouldn’t. i knew this would be heartbreak all over again, but i couldn’t bring myself to walk out. i needed to see what she wanted.

after a few minutes she walked over to me. “hey” she said. just simple, but enough to make my breath hitch. “hey, paige” i say back. “you played well” she let out a small laugh, a laugh that sounded like dancing in the kitchen at 3 am after we got wine drunk, and a laugh that felt like home.

“thanks. but we still lost, so i couldn’t have played too well” i gave her an almost sympathetic smile, i knew how much she hated losing. she hasn’t lost this much since, well, ever actually. she was known for winning. that’s who Paige is. she wins on every level.

i know i shouldn’t ask. but i have to.

“how have you been?”

fuck. this might hurt my feelings.

“i’ve been okay, actually. a lot of work, but i’m managing. you?”

okay. not as bad as i thought.

“i’ve been okay too. a lot of traveling lately, but it pays off”

she smiles. not a cocky one, not an arrogant one, but a true, genuine smile. one i haven’t seen in a while. especially not from her.

“good. that’s good. i’m glad you’re still doing what you love”

that’s when i almost said it. i almost told her right there that i still loved her. still doing what i love, but not with the person i love. and that shit hurts.

“mhm, you too. i’m happy basketball is working out well for you”

“thanks y/n. you always believed in me, seems like you still do. even when you seen my shitty team play”

i let out a small laugh, not forced, but because im getting more comfortable. “you’re not shitty, you just have some things to work on, that’s all. and i do still believe in you, you’ve always been great”

there’s that smile from her again, i can feel my cheeks heating up, and i look away quickly trying to regain my composure.

she notices, of course she fucking notices. and she knows just how to get under my skin.

“wanna go get dinner? on me?” she asks.

was she serious?

she was.

“yeah. i’d like that”

“good, we can catch up. let me go change and we can head out of here”

“sounds good” fuck. i can’t believe i’m doing this. this is the “thing i’d regret” that i was talking about. but do i regret it? we’ll see later.

she comes out about 10 minutes later, her hair is down, she’s wearing sweatpants and a uconn t-shirt that fits her perfectly. god she’s beautiful. she’s so fucking beautiful.

“ready?” she asked me

“i’m ready”

we walk out and get in her car, she offered to drive. she always drove when we were together, mainly because i didn’t like it and she knew that.

as we’re driving, the silence is awkward at first. that’s when she speaks up.

“where do you wanna go?” she asks

“up to you. you know the places around here a lot better”

“there’s this good ass tex mex place down the road a bit, sound good?”

“definitely, heard the tex mex is good around here”

“it is, trust”

we pull into the parking lot of this restaurant, it’s nice, but not “date” nice. just two friends trying to catch up.

right. friends.

“this place is great, i think you’ll like it.” she says. “i hope so, it smells good”

“i come here all the time after bad games, pretty sure everyone knows me on a first name basis by now”

i laugh again, she always knew how to make me laugh.

“im sure they do. i’m sure they all think you’re great”

why the fuck would i say that?

she gives me that look. THE look. the look that says everything. i can see it. she still loves me.

“they’ll think you’re great too” she says back with that same beautiful smile.

we sit down and order, casual talk here and there,

nothing too major. we go back to her car after we eat and get in, i’m expecting to just go back to my car and leave, to not speak to her again after this, but boy did life have other plans.

“so” she starts, “you haven’t seen my new apartment, wanna come over”

holy shit. before my brain even registered what she said, my lips started moving

“yeah, of course”

what the fuck. why would i say that. that seems eager. or maybe, that’s exactly what she wanted.

“good, i was hoping you would say that”

she starts driving again, there’s silence, but it’s

not awkward this time. the stars are out, and she’s playing old r&b music. that was always her favorite, it seems like it still is.

i was looking out the window, admiring the scenery when i heard it. the intro to Love by Keyshia Cole.

that was our song. in my mind, it still is.

i expected her to turn it down, or skip it. but no, she turns it up and looks at me.

as she glances over at me, she places her hand on my thigh, and rubs soothing circles on it with her thumb. oh my god.

“i know you remember the words, i know you remember how this is our song”

she was right, i did. i remember everything

she starts singing and gently pats my thigh, a silent way of telling me to sing too. we sing our

song until we eventually pull in at her apartment. her hand stayed on my thigh the whole way back, and i honestly didn’t mind. i felt like i was right back to where i was supposed to be.

she steps out of the car and opens my door for me, all of the memories rushing back. her apartment is huge, much bigger than the one back in Connecticut. much nicer too.

she leads me inside and she shuts the door behind us, she kicks off her shoes and sits her bag down, before sitting down on the edge of the counter.

“so? what do you think? much better than the last one huh?”

much better. accept in this apartment, i’m not yours, and you’re not mine.

“i like it a lot. i see you still got that championship net hanging up” i gesture to the net hanging on the wall

“of course i do. that was one of the best days of my life” she answers back.

before i can say anything else, she speaks up again.

“not better than today though. i’ve missed you”

my breath catches again as i look back at her.

“you have?” i ask quietly

“i have. more than i’d like to admit”

“i’ve missed you too Paige”

there’s a silence again, not awkward, but filled with the tension of unspoken words. words i can’t seem to find yet.

“i didn’t expect you to talk to me” i finally say

“why not?”

“just didn’t figure you would”

“i wanted to since the moment i saw you walk in, i just couldn’t until the game was over”

“im glad you did”

“me too y/n. me too”

this is getting dangerous. i can’t hold back. so much has already been said, why not say more?

i speak up again.

“why’d you invite me over Paige? i don’t mean to bring this up but you said i made you feel suffocated. why would you want to be around me?”

she just looked at me for a moment, not angrily, but something i couldn’t quite place.

“it was never you, y/n” she finally spoke up “the stress, late night practices, preparing to pack up and leave my whole life in Connecticut behind, it was all too much for me.”

she hesitates before adding

“and you were just there, letting me take it out on you. you didn’t deserve that.”

“and i’m sorry. for everything”

i wipe away a tear i didn’t even realize was falling.

“i thought it was me all along. i didn’t know” i say through a shaky voice.

“it was never you. you were perfect, and you still are.”

before i know it she’s off the counter and her lips are on mine. she tastes like the same vanilla lip balm she’s been wearing ever since i’ve known her. she backed me up to where i was leaning against the wall, and her kisses are becoming more urgent.

“you have no idea how much i’ve missed you” she mutters between kisses

“how fucking sorry i am for letting you go.”

“how i beat myself up for it every day”

“how bad i’ve missed having you like this. as mine”

i can feel that familiar heat forming between my legs. i need her, and she knows it.

“no p, don’t say sorry. i’m still yours. don’t be sorry. i’ve always been yours” i say back breathlessly, my hand moving to rest on her hip underneath her shirt.

she didn’t say anything back, instead she picks me up, to where my legs are around her waist, and carries me to her bedroom. still kissing me the whole way there.

once we make it to her bedroom, she lays me down on the bed and straddles my lap, taking her shirt off, as well as my own. i’m a mess at this point. i can feel my wetness seeping through the purple thong i had picked out because i knew it was her favorite color. was i expecting this? no.

but i was hoping, praying.

she removes my shirt in a swift motion, tossing it aside somewhere in the darkness, tossing hers down there too. she begins to kiss down my neck, and down my chest, before moving her hands to the clamp of my bra, and taking it off me, tossing it aside too.

“god you’re beautiful” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

she began to mark my chest, a silent promise to let everyone know i was hers. cupping my breast’s with her hands and sucking on them.

i let out a silent moan, my hands tangling in her hair.

she moved her hand to the waist band of my shorts, tugging them off. and she wasted no time.

she began kissing down my stomach, stopping just before my the lace of my panties.

“wet for me already mama?”

god she knows exactly what to say. i just nod my head.

“cmon baby i wanna hear you say it”

i nod again “mhm, yeah p, just for you”

she moves lower and begins to kiss my inner thighs, her movements slow and teasing. my fingers still tangled in her hair, letting out another low moan.

she slips my panties down my legs, and tossing them aside with the rest of our discarded clothes.

“don’t think i didn’t notice you were wearing my favorite color. you wanted this huh?”

“of course i did. but was i expecting it? definitely not”

“should’ve known i couldn’t stay away for much longer”

she lets out a breathless laugh and wastes no more time, she licks a stripe up my folds and closes her lips down around my clit.

my back arches, tugging on her hair slightly

“fuck paige”

“that’s it baby let me hear you”

i moan louder this time, bucking my hips into her.

“ ‘tastes so fuckin good ma “

“missed you so much”

i can feel myself getting wetter by the second.

the moans continue coming as she eats me out. she slips her middle and ring finger into my mouth, never slowing her movements.

“get em’ wet for me baby. show me you want it”

fuck i wanted it bad.

she works her tongue faster, eating me out like she’s starving. i close my lips around her fingers, coating them with my saliva.

she pulls her fingers out of my mouth with a pop, and pushes them into me, curling them to hit my g-spot.

i’m convinced the neighbors could hear me moaning her name.

“yeah paige, just like that. don’t stop. holy fuck, don’t stop”

she hums against my pussy, sending vibrations straight through my core. my back arches again, her fingers and tongue working at fast pace.

“you’re clenching baby, i know you’re close. cum for me, let me taste you”

she moves her fingers faster, thumb circling my clit, fingers curling, and her name in my mouth like a prayer.

“p-paige.. gonna-”

“i know baby, i know. go ahead”

that’s all it takes, the feeling i know all too well returns to my stomach. with one final moan, and one last thrust of her fingers, i cum for her.

she works me through it, slowing down but not stopping. she pulls her fingers out and begins to kiss up my stomach again, before reaching my lips, letting me taste myself.

she says against my lips.

“did so good for me mama. got one more in you?”

i nod my head

“ nuh uh pretty girl, gotta hear you say it “

“p-please p, i want more” “i need it”

that’s all she needed.

next thing i know i was on my knees, face in the pillows, ass in the air.

i hear the click of the harness, the strap. the purple strap we bought together.

she climbs behind me, wetting the strap with her spit. she positions herself and makes sure i’m comfortable, before placing the tip at my entrance

“you sure you want this? wanna be fucked good?”

holy shit i’m dripping at this point.

“please baby. i want it so bad. i want you so bad”

she pushes the strap all the way in, starting out steady before picking up pace.

i moan loudly this time. “baby, f-feels so good”

this clearly boosts her ego, as she slaps my ass, hard.

“love taking it from me don’t you? stretching you out like this. so tight for me”

pain and pleasure shooting through my body, making my eyes roll back as she continues to fuck me.

“god Paige, don’t stop.”

she picks up her movements, slamming into me harder than before, her fingers moving around to circle my clit

overstimulation has set in, but god it feels good. she feels good.

the moans are getting louder. they won’t stop.

“there we go baby. want the whole building to know who’s got you fucked up like this”

“let them know.” she adds.

i’m sure they knew. they had to have. her name falling out of my lips loudly, i had no control over the sounds i was making.

“paige baby, gonna cum again. feels s’good”

“you got it mama, go ahead. cum on my cock, let me feel you”

that was i all i needed.

my second orgasm came crashing over me like a wave, body going limp as i moaned into the pillow, she helped me ride out my orgasm then pulled out, while removing her hand from my clit. she takes the strap off and throws it in the floor, laying down beside me.

she pulls the blanket over us and speaks softly

“you alright baby?”

“trust me, i’ve never been better” i retort back

there’s a silence before she speaks up again

“i want you to know that i don’t want this to be just a one night thing, i miss you. i’m serious about trying to make this work again. i’ll do anything.”

“me too. i love you paige, i never stopped”

“i love you too y/n. so much”

i pull her in for a soft kiss, and lay my head on her chest. and for the record, i don’t regret anything.

[urcoolgf]

hey! i would really love it if u wrote this prompt.

basically drew and reader are roommates and best friends since they started filming obx together. a lot of people ship them, but reader kinda does nothing about it and it’s pretty obvious that drew does have a thing for her.

fast forward, it’s the day after drew’s birthday and they’re both eating cake and like talking and stuff. drew switches topics and hes like like “yk i never got what i acc wanted for my bday” and readers like “yea? what?” and then drew goes “good sex” or smth freaky like that

if ur not comfortable writing it, i understand, but i would really love it!! thank you!!

you guys are so creative oml i love this concept

also this ran LONG so i hope you enjoy ! :) so sorry it took so long

‘outer banks’ brought a lot of change into your life. a lot. it was your first big ‘debut’ (so-to-speak), and it also came with many new friends, and… a new roommate. drew starkey—aka ‘rafe cameron’.

the two of you had quickly become friends, not only because you were sharing an apartment with him, but you also just understood each other. the rest of the cast was obviously also amazing, but something about drew just felt more natural—more real.

—

it all started on the day you got your scripts. drew was sat next to you, fiddling with his hands while the director and other important people talked through what was expected, and when. once the meeting was over, and everyone had gone their separate ways, as he was getting up he noticed you—still sat at the table, already reading through your script with your nail in your mouth, deep in thought.

“got any notes yet, boss?,” he chuckled lightly, leaning over the table to look you in your eyes. of course drew had taken notice to how beautiful you were. it was impossible to ignore. your hair, your eyes, your beautiful smile. you were magnetic even when you weren’t saying anything.

“oh! no. no, i’m just thinking how long this is going to take to film, honestly,” your unsure tone had him intrigued. he turned slightly to sit against the table, crossing his arms in front of him, his script crinkled underneath his grasp. you hadn’t really looked at him, just quick glances during the meeting, and even now—you were more focused on your current issue, selfishly enough.

“is there a problem?,” you noticed his eyes narrow, like he was worried for you for some reason—like he cared, even though he barely knew you. it made you feel like you could talk to him without judgement, so you decided to just throw it out there.

“i just… okay, look, this is embarrassing, but i… i couldn’t find a place in the area…,” you started, finally looking up at him long enough to catch his reactions—you watched every tiny movement in his face, waiting for him to prove you wrong, and laugh in your face about it. he didn’t. a soft smile overtook his face instead, but he still didn’t say anything, and now you were starting to overthink it. “sorry! God, i don’t want you to think i was like– trying anything, or asking for help. i just– you asked so, i told you.”

he chuckled, lightly, his bright blue eyes squinting, and his smile lines prominent. he was an image, for sure—a sweetheart. “no– don’t worry, i didn’t think that.” his laugh made you smile, even in your current situation.

“would it be totally crazy if i said i had a free room in the apartment i’m renting?”

—

so, here you were—months into filming, you and drew living together, and tons of fan ‘ships’ of the two of you. it didn’t bother you; you and drew were close friends, filming together, and living together, it was natural for people to like the idea of you two dating.

you thought it was funny, but drew fed into it a little more. he was kind of protective in public, taking you out on ‘dates’ which were really just lunches, reposting stuff about the two of you. you didn’t think anything of it, but what you didn’t know was that the idea of you two being together drove drew crazy. it was hard enough being around you during filming, but at home? on the internet? it was hard for him to get over you when you were everywhere.

the two of you had become undeniably close, even the other cast members could see it. so naturally, you were comfortable talking about anything with each other, which led you to this moment. it was the day after drew’s birthday, the two of you carrying on the celebration by eating leftover cake on the couch.

“so, you have a good birthday?,” you asked, mouth half full of cake. you didn’t realize how close you were sat to him, but it was all that was going through drew’s mind right now.

“yeah, yeah it was good,” he rambled mindlessly, looking at you with those big blue eyes.

“what?,” you laughed a bit, putting your plate down on the coffee table like you didn’t totally believe him, but you also didn’t know why he was looking at you like that—like you had something he wanted.

he took a deep breath, contemplating whether he should really say what he was thinking right now, or if he was mental for even considering it. “just didn’t get what i actually wanted for my birthday.”

“what?! what is it? why didn’t you tell me?,” you were curious, to say the least, scooting even closer to him. your big eyes, and inquisitive smile had his heart beating a million miles an hour.

all he could do was look down at his fiddling hands, trying to find the confidence to just say it. he laughed a bit before answering. “some good sex.”

your jaw went a little slack, a breathless laugh coming from your lips. he laughed a bit more to cover it up as a joke, but part of you knew—knew he wasn’t joking. he looked back up at you, he tried to hide the lust in his eyes, but it was no use. you were sitting there, so close, and your perfume made it hard to think, and the way your eyes darkened would have scared him if he didn’t already know the emotion behind them—want.

“oh yeah?,” it was like something came over you, the way he was looking at you like he could devour you whole. a sudden confidence swept through your body—either that, or a type of lust. without giving yourself a chance to think, you climbed into his lap.

“oh! hey there,” he chuckled—half seductively, half surprised, not knowing what to do—whether to touch you, or keep his hands off. he didn’t know if this was real, or not.

“you can touch me, dummy,” you took his hands into yours, placing them on your hips. your shirt sat just high enough him to feel the warmth of your skin under his fingers—it was intoxicating.

“the birthday boy should get everything he asked for,” you whispered into his ear, making his eyes roll back at the warmth of your breath, and the close proximity. he felt like he was floating. “don’t be scared… i don’t bite,” you moved his hands further back, giving him the courage to grasp the flesh of your ass beneath his fingers.

the action made you mewl just a bit, moving your hips around in his lap, eliciting a groan out of the man beneath you. “y/n… fuck– you’re– you’re driving me crazy,” he breathed out.

“mm good,” you purred, giggling lightly before moving your lips down to his neck. his hips involuntarily rutted up into your core, causing you to whine into his neck.

“gonna give me my present, y/n?,” it was supposed to be taunting, but he sounded so ruined already, like the fact you were even near him was enough to get him off.

“mhm, anything you want… birthday boy,” you chuckled lightly, nipping at his neck softly. he was understanding more and more that this was real, and he got bold. he was squeezing at your ass even more, splaying his hands as wide as possible like he was claiming it—claiming you.

when your lips finally connected with his, he couldn’t help the soft groan that echoed into your mouth. he tasted like a bad decision… and you fucking loved it. you weren’t sure if this was exactly something you had been waiting for, hoping for, or expecting, but you weren’t going to sit here and act like you weren’t savoring every second of this.

you moved your hands from the back of his neck, down, down, down to his waistband, finally pulling back from his lips with a mischievous smirk. he was absolutely reeling. having you like this is all he’s wanted since he first laid eyes on you, and now that he had you? it was going to be a long night. he’d make sure of it.

“you– you sure, y/n?,” he wanted it—wanted you—of course, but he couldn’t help but think you’d leave him high and dry at any moment. he still wasn’t totally convinced you were real right now. your glossed over eyes, flushed cheeks, and dangerous smile. it all seemed too good to be true—to have you like this.

“‘m sure drew. let me take care of you,” you purred, sliding off his lap onto the floor, slotting yourself between his spread thighs. and holy fuck, he could cum from this sight alone.

you shuffled him out of his pants and boxers, leaving his flushed tip exposed to you—you could drool at the image before you. drew whined when you took him into your hand. it didn’t matter how many hand jobs or blow jobs he had been given, didn’t matter that he did it himself to the idea of you, none of it compared to right now.

“f– fuck. holy shit,” he gasped out. you hadn’t even done anything yet—not really, but his reaction gave you the biggest ego boost. you had so much control over him like this.

you worked your hand up and down his cock, relishing in the way he shivered beneath you. so yeah, maybe you’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about this—pictured him falling apart for you like this. denial was never your strong suit.

drew couldn’t even think straight once your tongue darted out to lick his tip. his eyes rolled back immediately, like a second nature, and he knew in this moment he would never be able to be ‘just friends’ with you after this. the way you looked up through your eyelashes—all innocent—while his dick was in your mouth? it was lethal. he was a goner, totally enveloped in you.

“fuck– y’ur mouth ‘s perfect,” he breathed out, his chest heaved as you forced yourself down, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could. he was addictive, and you’d never been the type to like giving head, but the image above you made it much more enjoyable. you’d do it for him any day of the week, gladly.

you made yourself gag on him, since he clearly wasn’t certain enough to put his hands on your head himself. you could tell he was close, his dick twitched against your tongue, and you were ready to take it—take all of him, whatever he gave you… until he pulled out, breathless.

“if i’m cummin’ from anything it’s gonna be your pussy. please, y/n,” the way he was basically whining—begging—for you?

how could you deny him?

you giggled lightly, snaking your way back into his lap, moving your hips against him in a way you knew would drive him crazy. and it did. “please– shit, please y/n… need it. so fuckin’ bad,” his hands found their grip on your hips again, playing with the flesh beneath his fingers while he was rutting up into you, trying to get any sort of contact. you stripped him of his shirt before hunting at him to return the favor.

“go ahead, drew… unwrap your present,” the way you whispered in his ear—the hint of challenge behind your tone—he didn’t waste another second. the sounds of him shuffling around to get you out of your clothes was unmistakable. your shirt came off first—pulling it over your head, and discarding it somewhere in the room. you loved this—making him work for it, making him beg.

he stared at your tits like they were the only thing worth looking at. his pupils blown wide, hands almost carefully moving up to touch them, like they were sacred—like they needed to be worshiped in a way he had been preparing for his whole life. drew swore he would’ve been content just playing with them for the rest of the night, but you were offering sex… so he was going to take it. he’d waited way too long to pass this up.

he latched his mouth onto one of your nipples while he slid you out of your shorts, leaving you in just your panties—your tiny, soaked through panties.

he’d never seen anything like you before.

he toyed with you like you were his, playing with your tits like they belonged to him, but you didn’t mind. the whines escaping your throat only encouraged him more.

“fuck– drew please. stop teasing,” you chuckled breathlessly. there was no humor behind it though, you needed him. now. if this was anyone other than drew you’d be embarrassed how needy you were right now—embarrassed how wet you were, and how even while you were on top of him you felt totally out of control. he had more power over you than even you knew.

you felt helpless in this moment, basically begging for his dick… and you loved it.

you’d deal with that fact later.

“so fuckin’ pretty, holy shit,” his hands roamed all over your body. he explored like he’d already been there millions of times—and maybe in his head, he had. his fingertips came down to play with the hem of your panties, “these are stayin’ on though.”

you rutted against him like a cat in heat. not even three minutes ago he didn’t know if he could touch you, but now? now he had more control over you than anyone ever had. just taking what was his. under any other circumstances he’d make this special—take you to the bedroom, spend time worshipping you, and your body, like you deserved, but he wasn’t himself right now. not with you pressed into him, straddling him like second nature, completely willing to do whatever he wanted.

this was an opportunity he couldn’t risk losing, so quick and sloppy would have to do… tonight.

he pulled your panties to the side, pumping his cock a few times before finally pushing himself into you. you fell down on his hips, almost accidentally taking all of him. he was big enough for it to burn, but you didn’t even care. you’d never felt so full in your life.

you could feel the way he shuttered against you, unable to control his movements like you had taken him over completely. his eyes fluttered shut even though he wanted nothing more than to see the look on your face right now.

“you good?,” he breathed out, silently asking if he could move yet.

“yeah– yeah… fuck ‘m so good,” that was all he needed. as much as he loved the sight of you on top of him, it would have to wait for another night because he was ready—ready to take what was his.

before you could think he’d flipped your back onto the couch, still nestled inside you like he was stuck to you. he wasted no time drilling into you again. you were caged to the couch, his arms trapping you like you’d run away if you could (you wouldn’t—never in a million years).

your head was spinning, he wasted hitting spots inside you you never knew existed. it was all too much… in the best possible way. “drew… oh my God– shit– you’re so fuckin’ deep,” your words were mumbled, and broken by your moans. you were basically sobbing beneath him, and the image only spurred him on more. he went faster, harder, deeper. you didn’t even think it was possible, but he wasted doing it. stars clouded your vision, your back arched so far off the couch you thought it might snap in half. his hands clamping against your sides, pushing you back down.

“aww, baby… don’t run from me now,” he leaned down, whispering—taunting—right in your ear. you had forgotten how to breathe at this point, completely consumed by him. you felt the coil in your stomach tighten—closer, closer—“be a good girl ‘n let me have my present.”

fucking hell.

it was impossible to stop the way your orgasm ripped through you, wrecking you from the inside out—wrecking you for anyone else. your moans made drew’s cock twitch inside you.

“do it,” you said breathlessly, a smug smile on your face. he couldn’t help the groan that slipped from his lips, stuttering inside of you like he was possessed.

“yeah? gonna let me fill you up?,” he cooed. it was almost humiliating—if it were anyone but him. he chuckled lowly, almost like he was mumbling to himself. “greedy little thing.”

“please… please drew– need it. so bad,” you weren’t sure how you were even getting the words out right now, but some part of you knew you needed it—needed him.

“fuck,” he breathed out before spilling into you. warmth flooded your cunt until it was dripping out of you. he crashed right beside you, the couch barely wide enough for your two sweaty bodies. your guys’ heavy breaths broke through the silence as you laid there, wondering what the fuck this meant.

“any chance you wanna give me an early christmas present too?,” he laughed, turning his head to face you, and you doing the same.

you smacked his chest with the back of your hand, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

that stupid grin took over his face, “is that a yes?”

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[astrae4]

YOUR MAIL ARRIVED! boynextdoor

pairings — boynextdoor x reader

genre — romance, fluff, angst

warnings — THERE WILL BE hurtful angst in some of these. And also some of these could be seen as stalking? Depends on your pov tbh.. (wc. 1.2k)

notes — another title of this fic is ‘bnd and the type of letters they would give’

more works: navigation | bnd!masterlist

PARK SUNGHO | a letter from your significant other

He’s the type to give you letters alongside a bouquet of flowers, never alone. He’d be too shy to do it before you dated, but after seeing your eyes light up whenever you got a short note with your flowers, even if it’s just a ‘to [reader]’, his messages will get longer and longer until it was too much for a card to hold and enough for an envelope to send. Sungho’s a big, big yapper—so just know that his paragraphs will be long and filled with his perfume so you’d be reminded of him when you read it. If he can, he’d be with you as you read it aloud, loving your reaction and the way you flush at his sweet words. If you’d believe it—then I’d claim that he’s sweeter in literary comms than he is in verbal communication. Perhaps because he gets too shy when saying it aloud, often hit by cringe on the reality of the sugary words he’s put together—but in letters he can say whatever, whenever. He has absolutely ❌ shame, and he doesn’t regret it at all, especially when he sees how shy you get when you read his words.

MYUNG JAEHYUN | a letter of regret

Jaehyun and you would have had a break because you both were so busy that it’d make you take your frustrations out on each other. It wasn’t healthy and you needed time apart, so you practically block him so you wouldn’t get tempted to text him again. Jaehyun, of course, didn’t know the reason behind it and lowkey cried about it. After complaining to his members a million times about how he misses you, Woonhak piped up with a question that made the cork in his mind rotate. “Why don’t you just send her a letter or email then? It’s not like texting is the only way of communicating..”—wait, why haven’t he thought of that?! The idea excites him so much and he feels like he could kiss Woonhak for his brilliance. The letter is quite simple, consisting of the usual ‘please take me back’, ‘I’m sorry’, and ‘I still love you so much’ with a generous spoonful of ‘please’s— oh who am I kidding it’s going to be full of the pleases. Gets so emotional he lowkey shed a few tears onto the letter. Whatever works to get you back, you know? Sure enough, when you got the letter with a box of chocolates, the block button cancelled not long after.

LEE SANGHYEOK | a letter of confession

Your confession wouldn’t be an unknown event. Riwoo would ask the whole group to sit with him and advice him on what to write in the confession letter. Taesan would tell him to be direct, whereas Woonhak and Jaehyun would tell him to be overly sweet. Leehan would mention to add his perfume, and Sungho would tell him to be truthful. To say whatever comes in his heart. After a long day and many motivational speeches for Riwoo to build courage in confessing, the letter—his masterpiece—is finished. The next time he meets with you, he’s planned the whole thing. From taking you to lunch, then bringing you to get coffee in a cafe while he gets dessert, and finally bringing you to a park for a stroll. Somehow he finds the best spot ever and it’s cheesy, straight out of a novel. The wind blows and the sunset shines in favor of the both of you as he shyly says another dad joke while his hand itches to the letter weighing heavily in his pocket the whole hangout. You laugh at his jokes as always, and finally—he hands you the letter—eyes cast and ears burning as he awaits your answer.

HAN DONGMIN | a letter to the deceased

I think that Taesan’s the type to write songs about you more than he does letters, so he doesn’t ever think about writing a letter for you. He’s not the best with saying what he feels, so it’s easier to him to write songs about you that just—describes you? If that makes sense. (Like his personal thoughts are different from describing you in his eyes bc it’s not so vulnerable on his end.) He’s too shy to actually open himself vulnerably, so the only time he actually writes you a heartfelt letter is when (only in this scenario okay! I pray for everyone’s health 🙏) his significant other passed. Too deep into sorrows and regrets, his members tell him to write to you about his feelings as a coping mechanism. And for once, Taesan’s love isn’t loud and is so deeply personal. He wishes he did this when you were still with him, but alas, he can’t change anything other than the increasing papers stacked in his drawer—just waiting to be read to you in your grave.

KIM DONGHYUN | a letter just because

Leehan’s the type to wake up one day and just feel like being romantic, ykwim? Like one day he feels more euphoric than ever; the kids (fishes) look prettier, the blue walls look brighter, and the thought of you sends his stomach into a bunch of flowers. He makes his mind right then and there that he’d write you a letter. The usual I miss you and I’m so grateful for you with a bunch of hearts near your name��heck, the whole letter’s filled with his heart drawings and it kinda looks like a teenage notebook ‘he will like me back’ ritual. He then ends the letter and practically skips off to wherever you are. Thing is, he’s not the type to give it to you directly. He’d hide it in your bag and then giggle as he waits for you to realize. When you do, you’d find it so cute of him and smother him in kisses (ik i would 😛) and he’d giggle so hard.

KIM WOONHAK | a letter in your locker

It’s a giddy thing with Woonhak. Coming back from lunch break with your friends to your classroom to get your PE uniform in the lockers. Only—an envelope sits awkwardly on top of your uniform, it’s position telling you that it was definitely put inside through the narrow peephole of your locker. On the envelope, there’s only one word: your name. Your friends freak out, and you flush at the attention given. They crowd around you, teasing you as they urge you to open it quickly. Who’s it from? What does it say? Do you have a secret boyfriend? Oh! I’m so jealous right now!— your friends rap out questions as you hurriedly open the letter. Inside, there’s only a short sentence: “Your hair looks pretty today, [reader].” There’s no name, and the thrill of it makes your friends go mad with conspiracies on your secret admirer. If it was possible, you blushed a deeper red. If only they knew you’ve clicked the pieces together; after all, how could you forget your desk-mate’s handwriting when you see it everyday?

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NETWORKS: @k-labels @onedoornet @k-films

© astrae4 2025 | please don’t copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

[badboydevotee]

Love In Legato

Summary: As the season burns brighter, you find yourself pulled into a quiet unraveling—Jin’s walls cracking like glass under summer’s touch, a melody he’s never dared play written just for you. A letter sealed with music and silence may be all he has left to give.

The ocean breeze slips in through cracked windows, dancing through chiffon curtains and touching the ivory keys of a grand piano sitting untouched in his room—until today.

It had started with a letter.

A single envelope slipped beneath your door. You had thought it might be from a teacher—maybe Tohma, considering his habit of leaving you unexpected tasks. But the handwriting was too refined. The paper was too expensive. When you broke the wax seal, the scent of fresh-cut cedar and sea salt hit you like a memory.

“Come to the music room. 5 PM. Don’t be late. —J.K.”

No signature. Just initials, though there was no mistaking who it was from.

You groaned out loud. “Not this again…”

Jin Kamurai had been a pain in your side ever since your first mission together—a disaster that ended with you soaked to the bone and him scoffing while effortlessly saving the day. He was everything you didn’t like: cocky, aloof, way too confident for his own good. And he called you “servant.” You made it a point to walk away every time.

But despite all of that, your heart never listened.

The moment you entered the music room, you regretted it.

Jin sat at the grand piano, head tilted slightly toward the light as he pressed the keys—soft, aching notes that wrapped around you like a second skin. His white suit shimmered faintly in the fading sun, and his silver-blue hair ruffled slightly with the breeze. His eyes—icy blue, unreadable—lifted to meet yours.

"You’re late."

You scowled. “Only by thirty seconds.”

"Thirty seconds longer than I had patience for.”

“Then why invite me?”

He stood, the piano's soft melody cutting off mid-chord. "Because," he said, voice low, “I’ve written something. For you. And since you’re not going to come willingly unless it sounds like a command, I had to make it one."

You blinked. "You wrote a piece?"

He stepped closer, closing the space between you. You noticed the gold chain around his neck glinting faintly as he handed you a folded sheet of music.

"No. A letter. But I don’t write letters the normal way."

You unfolded the sheet. No words. Just notes. A haunting melody in G minor, swelling and falling like ocean tides.

"You expect me to read music like a love letter?"

His expression didn’t waver. “Play it.”

When you sat at the piano and played the first few notes, a hush fell between you. The melody was tender—vulnerable in a way Jin never allowed himself to be. And as you played, you realized: this was his heart. Every harsh word, every arrogant smirk, every time he pushed you away—it was all here, transposed into the language of music.

By the time you reached the last chord, your hands trembled.

"You said you didn’t care," you whispered. "But this—"

"I never said that," he cut in. His voice had dropped, quieter now. "You just assumed I didn’t. Because I don’t say things with words like you want."

He knelt beside you, hand brushing yours on the keys.

"I’m not good at this," he murmured. "At… people. At feelings. But I’m trying. For you."

The next few weeks passed like a dream.

You never officially became "a thing," but it became obvious to everyone in Frostheim. Jin would “accidentally” show up in the hallway just as you were walking by. He’d “forget” to mention that the cafeteria had your favorite dessert until the last minute, then drag you there without waiting for a thank-you. His favorite insult now came with a smirk: “Stupid servant. Can’t function without me.”

You rolled your eyes every time. But you never walked away.

One afternoon, you found yourself on the beach outside—sand warm underfoot, the sky painted with lavender and pink hues. Jin was already there, sleeves rolled up, hair tousled from the breeze. In his hand: a bottle, sealed with ribbon and a wax stamp.

"A gift," he said, tossing it lightly to you.

You caught it, eyebrow raised. “What is this? A message in a bottle?”

"Open it."

Inside was another letter—this time in words.

You’re loud. You’re annoying. You’re too stubborn for your own good. And I don’t know when I started liking all of that. Stay with me. Even if I’m difficult. Especially if I’m difficult. I don’t care what you call me—just don’t walk away again. Yours, even if I won’t say it out loud. —Jin

Your chest ached.

He was standing there, waiting, not saying anything. You stepped closer, slipping the bottle into your bag.

"You still owe me a better nickname."

He blinked. “What?”

“If you ever call me ‘servant’ again, I’ll push you into the sea.”

A pause. Then—he laughed. Not a smirk, not a scoff, but a real laugh. His voice, deep and rich, rang out like the piano's final note.

“Fine. Then I’ll call you…”

He leaned closer, breath warm on your cheek.

“Mine.”

That night, back in Frostheim, you returned to the music room. Jin was already there, waiting with a second page of music.

He looked up, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You coming in or what?"

You sat beside him at the piano. Together, you played. The room filled with your music—his rough, perfect chords and your gentle accompaniment blending together.

And when the stars lit the icy sky above, Jin reached over, hand resting on top of yours.

"You make summer feel… less unbearable."

You smiled softly. “You make it feel like a breeze I never want to lose.”

Title Legato - "smooth and connected." When notes are played legato, they flow into each other without breaks—gentle, emotional, and continuous. The title suggests a love that may not be loud or sudden, but instead flows quietly and deeply—like the subtle, growing affection between Jin and the reader. It reflects Jin’s tsundere nature: he doesn’t speak his feelings outright, but his emotions come through in soft, connected gestures—like music played legato. Jin expresses his feelings not in words, but through music. The "legato" represents how love forms gradually through shared moments, even if neither of them says it aloud.

Inspo song

Mad by Martin Garrix and Lauv this song's stuck in my head, I had to put it somewhere.

Ao3 vers. I keep saying love in gelato..

[never-rxne]

— "dream brother,"

character study. post canon. a letter sevika wrote to vander. || 1k words

"don't be like the one who made me so old don't be like the one who left behind his name 'cause they're waiting for you like i waited for mine and nobody ever came." —Jeff Buckley. "Dream Brother"

Vander, 

It’s Sevika. 

I’m the Zaunite Councilor now. The only one. You are dead and the war is over. For the first time in my life I have time to sit down and think. Never thought this is where it would all lead— never thought I’d end up writing a letter to you. 

This is the first time I am speaking to you since I changed sides. 

If you could read this, I know what you’d probably be thinking. 

You were never that hard to read, you know that? 

I won’t apologize for what I did. You know me well enough to understand. Or you don’t. It doesn’t matter either way. 

I’m not writing this to defend myself. I’m not writing this to make you feel vindicated or guilty. You always said everyone in the Undercity had a story behind them. 

Let me tell you mine.

You and I both knew what the city was like before the uprising at the bridge. We’ve both lost too much to forget—no matter how good we had it after, no matter how quiet things became. 

How to say this? 

Do you know what it’s like to join a fight on the losing side? To watch the people around you slip away without being able to do anything about it, to watch the city lose a little bit of its soul every day? 

You do. Better than me. 

What you don’t know is that before I met you, I was close to giving up. Going well down the same path as my old man. Letting my grief and anger sink me until I drowned at the bottom of a bottle. He drank himself to death after a few feeble kicks. Always thought I’d go the same way. 

You told me that night at the Last Drop. I had just turned twenty, remember? That as long as there was one idiot left fighting for a cause, there was still a cause worth fighting for? 

You said you were that idiot. Asked me if I was one too. 

Vander, I was never good with words. You and Silco were the leaders, and when Silco left it was only you holding the Undercity together. You had your strength, Silco had his brains, Felicia had her empathy, I had my anger. 

Let me ask you now, Vander, since everyone’s gone, who was the one idiot left fighting? 

[The next few lines have been crossed out.]

I’m not angry anymore. Don’t have the same anger as my twenty-year-old self, anyway. I used to dream of crushing Piltover. Rising up and shaking them off like a horse tramples the flies that buzz around its head. I used to believe in the strength of Zaun, that all we needed was to keep looking forward at the same goal. I was young. I was stupid. I didn’t see there was no collective goal. 

Everyone has a story behind them. 

Everyone fought for their own. 

Can’t say I understand now. Can’t say it wasn’t all for nothing, either. I watched as Vi and Powder unravelled you, and I watched as Jinx unravelled Silco. Here’s the truth, though.

Vander, if my little brother was still alive, he would have unravelled me. 

His name was Ravi. 

He was sixteen when I lost him. Cave-in at the mines. 

Do you think it’s fair? That I’m sitting up here in a Piltover office, hair going gray, wearing a new jacket, while he will be sixteen in the Undercity—forever? 

The day he died, my world went dark. Like a switch somewhere had been flicked off. I saw nothing—really nothing. Nothing ahead of me, nothing behind. Just the big empty space left behind by his death. 

Then, I got angry. 

Wanted to make the people responsible for his death pay for what they took from me. What they took from my mother. She never recovered from the loss of her only son. Neither did my father. 

I always thought I recovered. That I was the only one out of my family who crawled out of the grief, made something from it. Turned it into strength. 

I’m realizing now that I never did. 

I wanted to meet violence with violence. I never really left my twenty-year-old self. Even when I told myself Silco posed the highest bid for freedom, it wasn’t really about freedom. It wasn’t about his vision of respect, either. It was about revenge. It was about watching Piltover crumble like my life did when I watched the light go out of my brother’s eyes. When I heard his weak voice saying my name, begging me to help him, to save him—and I couldn’t. 

I heard his voice for years after in my dreams. Heard his voice in the echoes made by Zaunite kids in the streets. Saw his eyes in the Zaunite kids’ eyes. Saw his hope, his energy, in your kids. Powder and Vi. 

Powder especially. 

I think Ravi would have been friends with her. He had a tendency of making friends with everyone. My old man would say he could have been friends with a river monster, if he had the chance. 

I’m rambling now. 

I’m too tired to be angry anymore, Vander. Too old to keep fighting, too old to pass off vengeance as liberation. Nearing fifty now—I realize you were a similar age when you died. I may not live to see Zaun truly free. You didn’t. Silco didn’t. All I know is that I’ll keep working. And there are people now, multitudes, who will continue after I’m gone. Young Ekko, remember him? He’s got himself a place in the Undercity now. Leading the Firelights. 

You at rest now, Vander? I hope you are. I can tell you Vi is alive and well. They’re still looking for Jinx. Have a feeling the Kiramman girl is pulling some strings to keep Jinx just a step ahead. 

I’ll wrap this up now. There’s a meeting I have to be at in twenty minutes. If you saw me now…dressed up like this in Piltover garb, ready to argue for an hour with the same peacocks you heard me swear I’d drag out of their homes…well, I can practically hear your wheezing old laugh. 

Take care, Vander. Blisters and Bedrock. 

Sevika. 

[mapsthewanderer]

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Details: 1500 words of unhinged, freaky, filthy nonsense porn. I had an idea for a headcanon and wanted to write it a bit differently this time—more like a short story, since I really enjoyed writing the venom-sucking scene that way. I went overboard with “look” sorry lol. It is what it is. Anyway: Turn back now—this road doesn’t end in purity.

Features: Mirror worship, name kink, 18+ notinoti tension, and absolutely no plot—just porn. Dom-bottom!Caleb, unrelenting praise, dirty talk galore and him losing his damn mind over you. No thoughts, just Caleb.

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Mirror | Caleb smut

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Hey you

Hope you’re doing something fun today. And when I’m back, you can tell me all about it while I make you dinner and pretend I’m not jealous I missed it.

There’s a package being delivered in a few days—something big. Don’t worry about it. Just sign for it and leave it where they drop it. I’ll handle the rest when I’m home.

No peeking. No touching it. That’s my job. Pinky promise?

Don’t eat all the apple jam without me. And if you do… fine. I’ll make more. You’re so spoiled, aren’t you?Good thing I like you that way.

Yours,

Caleb

——————————————————————————

You forget about the letter—mostly. Until three days later, when the front door buzzes and two delivery guys drop a massive, flat box in the hallway. You eye it warily. Caleb said not to touch it.

So you didn’t. But it sat there, humming with promise—huge, heavy, unopened. Like it was watching you back.

Then one afternoon, you come home early.

And there he is.

Shirt half-off, jeans slung low, drill in one hand, focused and smirking up at the ceiling where a mirror the size of sin is halfway mounted above the bed.

He hears you come in but doesn’t look right away—just presses the mirror into place, flexing way too much as he checks the alignment. Then he turns, eyes catching yours. That familiar heat flickers behind the smugness.

“Oh good,” he says casually. “You’re home.”

You blink. “Caleb. What the hell is that?”

He saunters over like he didn’t just commit to the most unholy home improvement in history.

“Well,” he says, cupping your waist like he’s about to ask for a dance instead of ruin you, “remember that night? You on my lap. Me on the edge of the bed. That mirror across the room?”

You stare at him.

He leans in.

“Yeah. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

His hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers warm, voice a low, playful growl in your ear.

“So I figured… let’s try a better view.”

The drill hits the floor with a soft thud. Caleb’s already undoing his belt as he nudges you back toward the bed with nothing but a look—that look. The one that says he’s in control now. The one that says you’re not going anywhere.

He sits down first, back against the headboard, legs spread like he’s waiting for you to climb into place. He’s already half-hard, eyes flicking between your face and the giant mirror now gleaming above the bed.

“Do me a favor,” he says, voice rough, patient. A glance at your clothes, then back to your eyes. “I’ve had this image in my head for weeks—let’s make it real.”

You obey—slow, a little shy under his gaze until you glance up and see yourself reflected back: flushed cheeks, bare skin, Caleb behind you like a storm waiting to break. You swallow. He smirks.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Now come here.”

You straddle him, thighs spread wide over his lap, hands on his chest. His cock, thick and hot, presses between your legs—not inside you yet, but close. So close.

Caleb leans in, kissing your throat, your collarbone, then lower—pausing just long enough to breathe against your skin before his mouth closes over your nipple and his hand slides down your belly like he owns it.

Then his voice low, dark, reverent.

“Look up.”

You do.

And you see it.

The way one hand slides under you, fingers gliding between your legs, and suddenly you’re moving without thinking, chasing pressure he’s barely begun to give.

“Mm… Stay right here.” He’s already pulling you into place. “I want to see your face when you fall apart—and I want you to see what I look like when you make me lose it.”

You sink onto him—inch by inch, your mouth falling open as he fills you, his breath catching with yours.

In the mirror, it’s everything. His hands on your waist. Your hips moving together. The tension in his jaw as he grips tighter and holds you still.

“Look at that,” he groans. “Look how perfect you are.”

You try to glance down at him, but his hand slides to your jaw, tilts your face back up.

“No,” Caleb says, voice suddenly low and dangerous. “Keep your eyes on the mirror. I want you to see what you do to me.”

You do. And it’s ruinous.

Because you see his eyes flick up too—watching your reflection as he thrusts up into you, harder now, his hands guiding your rhythm. You see the way he bites his lip when you start to lose control. The way his fingers tighten when your head tips back. The utter worship in his face when he realizes you’re close.

But he’s losing it too. You feel it in the way his rhythm starts to slip—deeper, harder, desperate.

You try to glance down again, overwhelmed—but he doesn’t let you.

His hand slides up the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. He leans up, chest pressing flush to yours, his other hand still firm on your hip as he starts to thrust up into you from beneath—slow, deep, wrecking you from the inside out.

“I said no,” he breathes, lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, just before his hand tightens—not rough, just insistent. He tilts your face up. “Look. Look at you.”

And there it is again—the reflection of you in the mirror, riding him, flushed and open and coming apart around him. And him—muscles flexed, jaw clenched, lips parted as he watches you watch yourself.

He smiles.

Smiles.

That crooked, breathless, boyish grin like he’s got everything he’s ever wanted and then some.

“Say it,” he growls, voice ragged as his fingers dig into your hips. “Say who you belong to.”

His name slips from your lips like it’s the only word left in you. And Caleb watches it happen in the mirror—the sound, the look on your face, the way you give yourself over to him.

“Yeah. That’s what I’ve been waiting for.”

And then he buries his face in your neck like he can’t take it—like you’re too much, like if he keeps looking at you he might actually fall apart. His breath is ragged against your skin. His hands are clutching now, holding you like he needs you to stay right here, exactly like this, forever.

He moans your name into your throat, hips grinding up just a little harder, a little slower.

“I want to come inside you and still keep watching. I want to watch you take every drop like you were made for me.”

Your body jerks at his words—sharp, wrecked—and that’s it. That’s the moment his composure breaks completely.

“Oh, fuck. Nh—no, keep going—don’t stop.”

He’s rambling now, half-coherent, thrusting up into you so deep your breath stutters. His mouth finds your collarbone, kisses turning frantic, almost messy.

“I’ve never—never wanted anything like this,” he chokes out, voice wrecked. “I want to live right here, inside you, under you, watching you fall apart for me over and over and—shit—please—”

And then—

He grabs your chin, thumb slipping under your jaw, and tilts your face up.

“Look at us,” he pants. “Look at us. Look what you let me do to you.”

You both look—your body wrapped around his, your movements erratic, needy, soaked, his cock buried in you and his face wrecked with pleasure and awe. His arm tight around your waist. His other hand still holding your jaw. You’re not riding anymore—he’s fucking up into you, hard and deep, like he needs to watch you come as badly as he needs to breathe.

You moan. Loud. High. And his eyes snap to yours in the mirror.

And that’s all it takes.

He comes like it costs him his soul—like he’s choking on every breath he held back just to last a second longer inside you, hips stuttering as he spills into you. His head drops to your shoulder, breath ragged—but his eyes stay open.

Locked on the mirror.

On you.

On this.

Your bodies, tangled. Strong arms wrapped tight around your waist. Your mouth still parted from the moan you haven’t recovered from. Flushed skin, your chest rising with his. Wrecked. Claimed. His.

He stares like a man who’s already damned—and thinks you’re worth every second in hell.

And then, barely a whisper—

“That’s mine.”

A beat. His voice cracks when it comes back.

“All of that.”

His lips find your shoulder, your neck, your cheek—frantic now, like he can’t stop.

“You see now what you look like when you’re full of me?”

His hands tremble where they grip your hips.

“Fucking perfect. Ruined. Mine.”

Then, raw and hoarse, soaked in awe: “You look like a dream in my hands. I should’ve put that mirror up a long time ago.”

And neither of you can look away.

Not from the mess.

Not from the mirror.

Not from what it means to be seen like this—and still loved down to the bone.

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Your viscera welcome me in

Welcome me in

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Art credit: baclegg_mm, so.0_ck on instagram, some kind of bl novel lol send help I can’t find it.

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[revelboo]

Hehe look at my boy <3 he stands so sassy lol

Bee! That’s so cute!

Still working through some older asks I missed- I want to start writing a poly storyline with the Aerialbots, too, but need to research them first

The Future Freaks Me Out Pt 6

ES Bumblebee x Reader

• It’s none of his business. Knows that. But he still finds himself sitting in your driveway waiting for you to come home from the water park with your friends. He’s just making sure you get home okay. That’s all, but he can’t even manage to convince himself as he shifts on his shocks and a truck finally pulls in, all four doors opening and there you are. With three other humans, two male and a female. And one of the guys hooks an arm around you, yanking you into him as you laugh and the girl darts to steal his hat. Sinking on his shocks seeing you smiling and happy. With other humans.

• ‘Sweet car,’ one of your friends says , reaching to touch the fender and you wince. Can’t really say please don’t touch the alien car, though. ‘Movies Friday?’ He asks and you nod, your friends lingering, joking. Love them all, but you’re eager to talk to Bee. To hear about his day and tell him about yours. And it seems to take forever before they’re leaving, waving after them. “Been waiting long?” You ask.

• Transforming once the other humans are safely out of sight, he hates that he’s annoyed. Jealous of anyone else talking to you. Touching you. Knows it’s absurd, it’s not like the two of you are anything but friends. “Not that long,” he manages even though he’s been here most of the day. Waiting around just to see you. Hear your voice.

• “Do you guys swim?” You ask suddenly and it startles a laugh out of him. But you’d wondered about it at the water park, thought of him trying to swim and it had made you smile. “Or just sink?” And he’s shaking his head at you, grinning crookedly. “I mean, you’re metal. You have to sink, right?”

• “It’s not as big a problem when you don’t actually breathe,” he says. Watching you frown. Did you think he breathed? ‘I’ve heard you,’ you protest and he kneels, fans cycling on and venting loudly. “Not breathing.” Amused, when you reach up to tug his head down, still frowning. “It’s how I cool myself and process scents.” Reaching out before he can think better of it, he rubs a few strands of your soft hair between his servos. “I can smell the sweet, chemical cleansers you use. And I can smell you underneath that, I like how you smell.” Freezing as your face reddens and he realizes what he just said, embarrassment constricting his spark. Why did he just admit that?

• He can smell you? And he likes the way you smell. Flustered, you lift your hands away from his face and he catches your arm. A servo sliding against the inside of your wrist like he’s feeling your pulse. Can’t look away from those gorgeous, blue optics and as he slowly vents, you can feel the warm air against your face. Realizing suddenly that you can smell him. How have you never noticed it before? Spiced musk with a metallic bite that seems be getting stronger, your breath catching. There’s the errant thought to wonder if his lips are soft. If he’d taste like metal if you kissed him. Knowing you shouldn’t think about things like that. You’re friends and two different species. But you still want to kiss him.

Previous

[missust3l3vision]

In honor of me getting a new camera (pictured at the bottom of the fic) I have decided to write this :)

Picture Perfect

Description: Joost loved taking photos of you. It was his small way of keeping you there with him at all times.

"If you have that camera in my face I'll kill you," Y/n groaned with her face smushed against her pillow

He did in fact have his digital camera pointed directly at her as he silently cooed. She was so pretty when she slept, he just wanted to take a small photo. Flash off he told himself.

"Joost Klein I swear to god." He finally backed away. Drooping dramatically as he did so. Throwing a tiny fit was normal for him.

Maybe he could slip it into a music video, he loved having flashing pictures of Y/n in the real romantic ones.

He had begged her to be in his videos but she had rejected his offer everytime, much to his dissapointment. He had joked early in your relationship about having you in bikinis or nothing but a tie but thats all that was a joke.

"All I want to do is remember this moment!" He explained exacerbated. "You are so cute drooling and you won't even let me have this." He says like he's reciting a Shakespearean monologue.

"Mhhhmhmmm" Y/n responded rolling her head and planting it securely into her pillow. A tiny smile being hidden as she did.

It was only seven am and she already knew that he was going to be goofy all day.Usually she loved this, but not when he woke her up for it.

Sitting next to her in nothing but his boxers he waited for a chance. Finally scooping her up into his arms he rolled her over.

Her hair was sprawled out on the pillow under her, the morning sun making her look sun kissed. And her eyes stayed shut.

Bringing the camera up near his head he angled it perfectly. Getting all her hair into the frame while still being relatively close.

Then came the click and flash. Your eyes snapping open once again. Being met with a guiltily smiling Joost.

He checked the screen of the digital camera too fast to actually look at it before leaning down and kissing Y/ns frowning lips.

"Youre lucky you have a show tomorrow, otherwise you'd need to go on tour in a bodybag." Him letting out a chuckle as he pushed some of the hair back and out of her face.

"You look gorgeous liefde, as pretty as the day I met you." It took a lot to not roll your eyes.

He wanted to say more. Go on about how every photo they share is just more of a reminder of their love for him.

Or how each photo he has developed is kept in a place important to him so that you are always with him, but instead he bit his tongue and watched you with loving eyes.

Turning off the flash for real this time he snapped another photo. Y/n sleepily smiling at the camera, holding his hand in hers.

Y/n completely forgot about the photo until a few months later when Joost was editing the album cover of his newest album. She had placed a plate of dinner next to him and caught a glance at the screen.

"Why that photo?" She asked standing next to him "My hair is a total mess."

Joost hums not looking away from the screen. Clicking save and closed the app on his computer.

"I just like it." Later when the album was officially dropped you saw the final edit of the picture. You were completely untouched except for one thing. A small band had been air brushed onto your finger as well as the text in the corner.

"Y/n Klein, Ik Wil Je"

@xoxoxyra

[bookshelf-dust]

cat in the castle

frank castle x fem!reader

gif by @darlingshane

word count: 2,626

warnings: nothing i can think of, barely a mention of frank’s occupation, some smooching, literally just fluff

synopsis: the cat distribution system has chosen you…and your live-in boyfriend, frank. it’s safe to say he never thought of himself as a pet-having guy.

a/n: hello!! what with ddba and the fact that i’ve been rewatching the punisher, frank has taken up residence in my brain and made himself quite comfortable. i hope i’ve done him justice! writing a new character and then posting is always a little scary lol. enjoy, my loves!! <3

————

It’s not quite dark out yet, but Frank is silhouetted in the warm light from the front porch. The moths haven’t even begun to flutter out, circling until the yellow bulbs embrace them. The man slips his house key in the lock and turns; the motion is fluid despite only having lived here for a few months. 

Frank had told you he would handle getting you whatever kind of house you wanted, but you never cared about living in a castle. All you asked was that there be a spare room you could turn into a shared library for the both of you. Now, it has big, comfy chairs and a set of antique lamps that Frank hauled into the bed of his truck before you’d even admitted to wanting them. He built you a ladder for the top shelf of books after a conversation with your mother one evening and wouldn’t let you cry when he showed it to you. 

He’s got a fistful of grocery bags in his right hand. You’d been watching some show on the Food Network earlier in the day and gotten fixated on this pasta they were making. All they had to do was say “four-cheese blend,” and you were sold. 

A few moments spent rummaging in your little pantry revealed that you had noodles. Macaroni noodles precariously close to expiring. So, in that gruff tone that makes you weak in the knees, Frank asked—no, he set down a pad and pencil in front of you and waited—what you needed. He grabbed his keys, said he might stop and pick up some oil for your car too, and that was that. He was out for maybe an hour and a half. 

Stepping inside, Frank uses his elbow to knock the porch light switch down. You always cut it on, just in case. He toes off his boots and turns the deadbolt before surveying his surroundings, looking for you as he walks into the kitchen. You’re not on the couch, though there’s an ass-shaped indent in the blanket thrown across the cushions. 

“Hey, babydoll, where you at?” he asks, projecting his voice to the other rooms in the house. No answer. 

He listens a little harder as he quickly tosses the cold stuff in the fridge and leaves the rest on the counter. He doesn’t hear the shower. He knows you better than to feel unsettled, knows the atmosphere of his home well enough to know nothing terrible is afoot. He’s just afraid of what you might be up to. 

Frank makes his way to your bedroom. The light in the en-suite is on. 

“There you go, sweetie. Take it easy.” A vein in Frank’s throat jumps at your voice. His thumb and forefinger slide against each other.

“That feels nice? Oh yeah, that’s the good stuff, huh?” 

Frank pauses in the doorway. Who the hell are you talking to like that? He crosses the threshold to the bathroom in two strides, courtesy of his long, long legs. The sight before him is not at all what he expected. But what was he even expecting? 

The porcelain side of the tub has gone warm from where you’ve been sitting up against it for so long, keeping watch over the little thing tottering around your bathroom, over your lap and back again. The pressure in your bladder is reaching its peak—you’ve been holding in the urge to go for at least forty minutes. 

You were so focused on the task at hand that you didn’t hear Frank come in, but you aren’t surprised to see him staring down at you. Relief washes over you. 

“Oh, thank God, Frankie.” He watches as you push off the wall and stand, your gait a little wobbly, probably because your legs are asleep. “Hold ‘em for me, I’ve never had to pee so bad in my entire life.” You don’t give your boyfriend any time to process things. Suddenly there’s just a teeny ball of fluff in his huge hands.

As you sit down on the toilet, you briefly think about the fact that you never imagined you’d be at the level of comfortable with a man so as to pee while he’s in the same room as you, but here you are. You’re quick, only taking in the expression on Frank’s face once you’ve washed your hands. 

You can’t read him. This is, without a doubt, a look you’ve never seen on him before. You have no idea what it means. 

“Frankie, baby? Are you with me?” 

He meets your gaze. “What is this?” You blink up at him. “I-I mean, I know what it is, but what is this?”

You giggle and take the kitten out of Frank’s hands, setting it back down on the small pallet you’d made out of some older beach towels. Your heart flutters at the triangular tail and teeny little paws padding across the floor.

“Well, I heard this noise out back while you were gone, and I couldn’t figure out what it was so I went to look and—”

“You went investigating while I wasn’t here?”

“—anyway, I saw this little baby kitty pawing at the siding. You know that loose vent cover you keep meaning to fix? They were trying to pull themselves up and under there. I think they were looking for a safe hideout, Frankie, and I couldn’t just leave him out there, so I checked for Mama kitty and any other babies, but I didn’t see anything and this one’s so small…I think it’s the runt. Mama might’ve left ‘em behind. Or they could’ve been dumped, I’m really not sure.” 

You look up at Frank, track the crease between his brows, the slight downturn to his full lips. But his eyes tell a different story. They’re soft, lashes kissing at the corners. His eyes have never lied to you. 

“…Comments? Questions? Concerns?” you quip, keeping your eyes on his. If this were anyone else, Frank’s stance would be guarded. He’d become a human blockade, standing his ground, making sure you knew nothing was getting past him. That he made the rules. But you’re his girl. 

He slumps up against the bathroom vanity, looking over the kitten. It’s a pale orange color, striped and its paws tipped in white. Its front two legs are in the food bowl as he messily eats the teeny bit of sustenance you’ve provided. It almost looks like you’ve taken a pestle to last night's pot roast. Frank knows you grew up with pets. You’ve told him about every last one, dug up pictures, said you’d love to get a cat or a dog or even a damn fish with him one day. And even though he loves the way your eyes turn into cartoon hearts when you talk about pets, it’s just never happened. 

Finally, Frank speaks. “You know how to take care of this thing?”

You beam at him. “Yeah! I mean, it’s too late now except for an emergency place, but I’m hoping to find a vet tomorrow because you never know what the baby might have or need, y’know? And we’ll need a litter box and a scratching pad and some toys. And I have no clue how old they are, I just hoped this food was okay. They might need a milk replacement.” You lean down and scoop up the kitten, causing him to look around madly for a few seconds. Frank catches the moment you realize you’ve probably gotten ahead of yourself. He senses the change in your breathing. 

“But that can all be temporary, too. Some vets will put animals up for adoption, and I can call around at work or ask my mom if she knows anyone who might want a—”

Frank takes the cat from you, successfully leaving you speechless. He lowers his head until he finds your eyes, wordlessly making you look at him when you talk. “Hey, no. Nah, don’t do that.” He lifts the kitten up so he’s level with it. “I know you wanna keep this thing, so just say that, sweetheart.”

“I wanna keep it so bad, Frank. Honestly, I was tempted to just keep him in the closet and take care of him in secret. I had a book like that when I was a kid, and it worked pretty well for them, so. But I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“Hush. If you’re happy, I’m happy—you know damn well that’s the case.”

You push up on your tiptoes, your arms going around Frank’s neck. “You’re sure? We get to have a cat?”

He rolls his eyes, wrapping his free arm around your back and slowly rubbing up and down your spine. He hums his response. When you go to pull away, he holds onto you tighter.

“Hey, hey, not gonna gimme a kiss? Didn’t when I came home, like usual.” He scrunches his brows together. The pout. 

You place your hands on his cheeks, feeling the start of stubble, and kiss him firmly on the lips. He tastes like those cinnamon mints he keeps in the truck. You kiss him three more times in quick succession, pulling out a smile. It’s the one he reserves just for you. His gaze darts away from you and his hands pull at your shirt. You’ve made him shy. 

The kitten mews between the two of you. “Oh, come here, little baby,” you say, taking the cat and holding it to your chest. “Too much PDA, huh? We’ll do better, I promise.”

Frank finds it hard to comprehend the flea-like size of the thing. They have a silent staring contest. “Is he gonna shit all over the bathroom tonight?”

You laugh. “I’ll go get some newspaper.”

————

It’s always the big, scary looking men that end up having teeny pets that they’re total suckers for. Frank is no exception. And right now, you’re pretty damn jealous of your cat. Mercutio (he let you have control over naming the little guy) is draped over Frank’s bare chest where he sits in your oversized, well-loved chair. He’s been there for hours. Frank hadn’t intended to sit there either, only pausing for a moment's time to cut the tv on, that is until Mercutio curled up on top of your boyfriend, exactly where you wanted to be. 

When Frank’s home, you try to spend as much time glued to his side as possible, which is why you’d asked to watch a movie with him, thinking you’d get to cuddle for the whole duration. You sit on the couch, legs stretched out in front of you, arms crossed over your chest. You’re watching the movie, sure, but you’re undoubtedly pouting. That cat was supposed to be yours—for one. For another, what ever happened to sharing?

You wiggle your toes in between the couch cushions like you would do to Frank’s thighs if he were sitting next to you, like he’s meant to be. Every few minutes you glance in his direction, hoping Mercutio will get up to go use the litter box or get something to eat, or even that Frank will be so desperate to be near you that he’ll move the cat himself if it means he can touch you. 

You tuck yourself more firmly into your little mountain of blankets and try to focus your attention on the film. A glare out of the corner of your eye distracts you almost immediately. Mercutio has swiveled his head in your direction, the light from the television reflecting on his eyes in the dim living room. He’s looking at you.

And he looks proud. Like he’s caught the damn canary. Traitor, you think. That’s my man, you little shit. You roll your eyes, turn back to the tv. 

Frank hears the sound your skin makes against the leather as you shuffle down the length of the couch. He glances over at you, your chin tucked into your chest, your brows practically hugging with the frown on your lips. He drags a hand down Mercutio’s back and the cat chirps, stretching his legs and hopping down. Frank sits up and stretches in a similar way. “What’s with the pout, sweetheart?”

You keep your eyes glued to the tv, despite your gaze being unfocused so that you’re not watching anything at all, just staring at a moving blur of color. “‘M not pouting.”

Frank knows exactly what your problem is. He has since he sat down and Mercutio hopped into his lap. He just wants to tease you until the words leave your mouth. My jealous girl. 

He stands, socked feet padding across the hardwoods toward you. Frank lifts your extended legs and slides onto the couch beneath them. He sets them on top of his own before dragging his fingers up and down your calves, occasionally massaging your skin with impossibly slow, firm strokes. You try to ignore the tingle that climbs up your spine. He’s giving you the attention you’ve wanted all evening, but you’re too far into your mood to let up that easily. 

You fight the urge to shut your eyes, to climb into Frank’s lap and curl into his chest, into that spot you swear was made for your body to slot against his like pieces of a puzzle. He resorts to grabbing for your hand. His thumbs pressing into the meat of your palms, sweeping out rivers of the tension you hadn’t even realized were there has always been it for you. The moment you’ll cave. You want so badly to keep up the stubborn act, but your body is already softening. Your heart flutters for him.

“You were supposed to be sitting with me…” you mumble, your voice a timid thing. Frank turns his head to look at you. His left arm extends, the backs of his fingers grazing your cheek and giving the gentlest of pushes, making you look back at him. 

He raises his brows. “You poutin’ ‘cause the cat was taking up your spot, sweetheart?”

You nod, trying to sink further into the couch cushions. “He knew what he was doing. He fuckin’ gave me the hairy eyeball.”

Frank’s head falls against the back of the couch, the thick cords of his neck bared to you and only you. He’s stubbly. Without meaning to you’ve taken one of his big hands in both of yours, holding it to your belly. “You’re something else, y’know that?” he says. 

You stick your bottom lip out. Frank stretches his body over yours, kissing the pout away. He kisses you with purpose, telling the jealousy to quit while it’s ahead. Butterflies wiggle in your stomach at the way his brows knit together while he kisses you; he’s so intent on making it better. He kisses you twice more. 

“Not my fault that the cat I found and cared for is trying to steal my man. He’s so unappreciative.”

Frank laughs, breathy and sweet. “There’s plenty of me to go around, babydoll.”

You scrunch your nose. “Ew, Castle.” Frank keeps laughing, laughing until he’s settled fully on top of you, his arms circling your back and his cheek flat against your chest.

Mercutio appears a while later, licking his lips. He’s clearly been helping himself to that late night snack. He appraises the situation on the couch and raises himself up on white-dipped paws, peering over the edge of the cushions. Frank’s half asleep on you, but there’s no missing the feeling of Mercutio’s feet on his bare back as the cat settles himself there, leveling his gaze with yours. The cat blinks slowly at you and begins to purr. 

“Jesus,” Frank mumbles. But he hears you giggle. You’ve got both your boys right where you want them. 

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

rb banner by @steph-speaks

[agirlandherquill]

writecamp - day 1, june 1st - the kickoff!

welcome to the start of summer campers! this post marks the kickoff of a two month long writing game i absolutely cannot wait to take part in alongside you all!

now, you may be wondering, what are the rules? for those of you that took part in or were familiar with writemas, it's the same thing, but for those of you that are new or just joining the game that's brilliant! I can't wait to spend the summer writing alongside you! the rules are as follows: choose a prompt (or as many of them as you like) from the list, write something and share your creation with the rest of writeblr, and share the game with others, because as we all know writing is a gift and it deserves to be shared! and of course, tag me in your responses because i cannot wait to see them!

and for those of you that don't know or need a reminder how writecamp's going to work, i've got a list of some pointers below:

each day of summer, starting June 1st, i will post the writecamp daily challenge - containing all sorts or prompts to stir the imagination pot

the game is open to all, and if you join late, no problem! just embrace the writery spirit of summer and play along! (you don't have to complete every day's challenge, but whatever you do, always be proud of yourself! because i for one am so proud of all of you)

bonus part (completely optional, but lovely if you choose to do it) - alongside your challenge entries, make sure to find a blog on writeblr, a writer you admire or one you've only just found, and pay them a compliment! (something so small but so, so important <3)

now, that marks the end of all the organisational admin stuff - (ironically im not as organised as i intended to be, i thought i had an extra day to get everything sorted ((whoops!)) so this first post is coming out a few hours later than intended but i promise every other post will be coming out on time, which will be 9am GMT but of course there's no time limit for your entries, pick and choose and play along as you please!)

moving onto the part you (and i) have all been waiting for - the first day of writecamp! (see under the cut!)

The Prompt List

Dialogue Prompts:

"You shouldn't have run from me."

"Take it back. Take it all back."

"You're... Smiling, and I can't quite understand why."

"Let your fears go. they can't control you, only you can control yourself."

"Dawn is on its way. The least we can do is live long enough to meet it."

Setting Prompts:

A mossy castle

A sunbathed meadow

A ring of fire

A crumbling dungeon

A walk at twilight

Narration Prompts:

The wind was neither her friend nor her foe. The wind was a part of her, it lifted her limbs, rendered them wings, and in defiance of her fate she took flight from the precipice of the cliff.

He would not utter a sound to please the whims of his enemies, his silence was the only weapon he could render against the army waiting, watching, willing him to beg for mercy. He would not give. He would entrust his life to silence.

Was there something so wrong with love? What crime against life itself did the heart commit in falling so completely, so impossibly for somebody else? And what punishment must be made in its stead?

Her hope was her saving, as it always had been, but as the danger loomed at her back, as its cruel, unrelenting shadow passed over her shoulder, she abandoned all hope, replaced her clasped hands with the blade sitting in her lap, and turned to meet it.

He had never been a man to cower before someone deemed his better, but for someone he deemed worse, someone he deemed worthy, he dropped to one knee.

Feeling Prompts:

The creaks of a broken body

The warmth of a summer wind

The sting of frozen water

The weariness of time

The gentle sigh of truth

happy kickoff day campers and i can't wait to see what you all come up with!

~ A Girl and Her Quill

~ ~ ~ now for the tags! for writecamp, because i have a feeling there's going to be so many of you, i'm going to do tags a little bit differently and instead tag all you lovely campers in the comments! (to hopefully get around any tag limits/difficulties because we all know there's going to be problems, it's inevitable and i'm going to do my best to avoid any issues in that area)

but of course, if you would like to be tagged in future daily challenges for writecamp, all you've got to do is interact with this post - it'll be monitored throughout the entirety of the challenge to ensure nobody who wants to be tagged misses out!