#and i'm just getting frustrated that we seem to not be able to without a dead end plot being brought up

[seismologically-silly]

mixed feelings about what snw does with vulcans. i like seeing more of the culture and it's not bad, but it's always about spock's romantic entanglements and that's an aspect of the show i do not care about

[maddamoiselle]

Burning Hearts

Pairing: SeaGod!Rafayel x NonMC!Reader

Summary: Lemurian lives for love, and as a lemurian yourself, you can't imagine a world without love. But maybe the Sea God can teach you more about it...

Words: 4199

Author's nonsense: Well, I hope you will enjoy this new chapter. Hopefully, I'll be able to write Sylus's soon.

Tags; Fluff TW: minor death, injuries

<- Chapter I Chapter III

��� She kissed him?!”

You turned your head toward Claire, who was brushing your hair. She seemed more upset than you about this.

After witnessing the kiss the human stole from Rafayel, you felt like your whole body cracked to reveal an empty shell. You didn’t wait for Rafayel. You didn’t know why, but you couldn’t or didn’t want to see his face right now. You swam to Lemuria, your brain forcing you to remember the scene.

You knew Rafayel didn’t want it. Even the human woman looked desperate when she pushed her lips against his. This kiss was meaningless , you shouldn’t be upset over this. A meaningless kiss. Maybe the human knew that kissing a Lemurian could make you able to breathe underwater? Right. That kiss was meaningless.

Was Rafayel thinking the same about the kiss you shared when you were younger…?

Lost in thought, you bumped into Claire who, as soon as she saw your face, demanded that you follow her. She was clearly trying to make you feel better while trying to know why you seemed so obsessed.

So you told her what you saw.

” I swear, those humans..!”She spared while putting a crafted coral in your hair. You chuckled at her reaction, feeling slightly better.

” Why are you so upset? It’s not like me and Rafayel are… mated.”

” Please, doll. Lemuria would disappear before your love for each other fade.” She rolled her eyes before swimming in front of you. She winked at you while intertwining her fingers with yours. “I mean, weren’t you born for him, Miss Voice, created for the Sea God.”

” Maybe I’m just a tool then.” You stuck your tongue to her, which made her pull on her hair while swearing about your obliviousness. You chuckled before shaking your head. “ I’m kidding… I'm kidding.”

” Kidding about what?”

You both turned your body toward your brother’s voice. He swam toward you, looking at you with intensity before sighing. You made a face as he looked at you with a bored expression.

” What did he do this time?”

Claire didn’t wait for you to explain before telling the story while adding some… details.

” And then your sister was thrown on the boat, but she managed to crawl back to the ocean and guess what she saw? Guess!”

” Water?”

” Yes, because the only thing she can do is cry because God is a cheater!”

You laughed as you lay on the sand while looking at Claire, explaining why you were upset. While listening to her tales, it made you feel ashamed about your reaction. you swam away while other humans were on the boat. Maybe they attacked Rafayel? You felt so bad. What if he was captured? What if he was hurt, what if—

” Rafayel brought a human into the infirmary.” Your brother said while staring at you.

…

“ A cheater, I tell you! We worship a cheater!” Claire screamed while shaking your brother, who didn’t seem to mind to become a tool for Claire’s frustration. His eyes were still on you. “ I hope he brought back a corpse and not a living human!”

”She, is asleep. Our parents are auscultating her.”

You sighed while pinching the bridge of your nose. You were getting mad for nothing, Rafayel wasn’t your mate. You weren’t a pair, and you didn’t have any right to be angry at him.

You stood up, swimming toward the infirmary. You were still curious about humans, and you didn’t know if she was going to stay alive for long. You could hear Claire behind you, encouraging you to fight this human who was threatening your relationship.

You chuckled as you arrived at the infirmary. You opened the door and went inside, surprised to see no one here if not the human lying in a bed. You approached the bed and looked at her. She seemed young… but mature enough to be a threat to you and Rafa—

You shook your head, trying to keep your thought rational and not let some primal part of your brain make a decision.

She was smaller than you… maybe smaller than every adult lemurian. She looked like she didn’t eat much, she was so thin.. Your eyes followed her curves until your gaze fell into her eyes.

She was awake.

You could hear Claire talking behind you, but your focus was on the human. She didn’t seem to understand your friend’s world…

Ah, she didn’t understand Lemurian…

You gave her your most non-threatened smile. She looked like she was more confused than scared… But she looked at you with wide opened eyes.

”Hello.. You look —“

”Ugly.”

”Claire!”

You turned to your friend with a frown. She only shrugged before looking at what was in the cupboard. You could hear her muster about how Rafayel could choose her over you.

You shook your head before looking back at the human, but it seemed like she fell back asleep.

You sighed; it seemed like you weren’t going to quirat your curiosity over humans today. You turned around before gasping as a tiny blue fish swam towards you. You cup your hands for it as the fish settle in your hands.

It was Rafayel’s fish.

You must have made a grimace because Claire tried to shoo the fish away.

”Back off, fish! Back off, I say!”

You chuckled at your friend’s behavior, but the fish always found his place back in your hands. You stroke it carefully before it swam away.

”Are you going to meet him?”

You looked at Claire, who was over observing you with a soft gaze. You smiled at her, not answering before leaving the room. You knew you would find Rafayel if you followed the fish…

So you went in the opposite direction.

You still felt too many things at once. You were confused, and you knew the fastest way to have answers was to go meet Rafayel. But you wanted to be calm and composed when you would meet him. You knew he would tease you if he saw how upset you were about a… mere kiss.

You were walking, lost in your thoughts before a hand tugged you inside a dark room. You gasped as you felt your chest being pressed against the door while a hand was on your eyes, making you blind to what was happening.

But you didn’t have the time to be afraid as your body realized who was holding you. You gasped his name as Rafayel kissed your shoulder, pressing his body against yours.

“How could you do this to me, dearest?” He said, his voice hoarse as he nipped on your naked skin, going from your shoulder to your neck. Your whole body was feeling feverish as his other hand moved toward your belly. “ Letting me think they put their hands on you.”

You gasped, your body arching against him instinctively yet not understanding what he was saying.

”W-who?”

“On the boat. They tried to attack you, didn’t they?” He growled against your ear. “ The humans.”

You turned your head blindly toward him, panting as you felt his lips kissing your cheek and then your neck. What was happening? That was the first time Rafayel was so—

Wait, was he angry because you were almost injured by humans? You wanted to scoff at that.

“W-what about you..? Being kissed by a human…” you rasped, trying to take his hand off your eyes, but he didn’t move. You could feel his breathing against your lips before he dived back in your neck, pressing urgent and open kisses on your skin.

“ I know. What do you think I’m doing?”He whispered against your skin. It seemed like he couldn’t detach his lips from you even for a few seconds. His words were cutting between kisses while you tried not to moan as those new feelings. “ I’m purifying myself.”

You bit your lips, baring your neck to him, which made him hum in approval. What was he talking about? What were you doing?

” Purifying..?”

“Yes. I don't want the feeling of her lips against mine any longer.” He panted against your skin, making you shiver. You felt his finger touching your lips between your teeth. “ May I?”

You felt his hand that was on your stomach moving until it wrapped itself around your throat, not squeezing. He turned your head toward him, his breathing hitting your lips. You wanted to see him, but his hand on your eyes wasn’t moving at all.

“ W-what do you want to do?”

”Purifying myself.. I need you. You are just helping me, right? Like you always did.” He whispered against your cheek, his voice deeper than usual. You nodded eagerly, feeling the same need to… to.. what exactly?

”Yes, I want to help you. W-we are friends after all…”

” Yes, just friends helping each other.” He whispered before his lips smashed against yours. Your body was still pressed against the door, his broad body pressing against you as he kept you neck in his hand, his mouth moving hungrily against yours.

You both moaned in bliss, feeling sated but also desperate for more. Your hand slid into his hair, pushing him closer to you.

You both were lost in each other, yet not really knowing what was happening.

You felt him cup your face with his hand that was on your neck a few seconds ago. You detached your lips from him to take a breath before you both reached for each other. You didn’t know what you needed more, his lips or air.

You whined, feeling helpless against the rush of sensation you felt. You felt like you were burning. Was it the kiss or Rafayel’s fire? You felt him step away, which made you panic a bit.

“ You ar-“

” More.” You panted, trying desperately to find his lips.“ I think you need more to be purified…”

”Yes. You are right.” He breathed before spinning you around before slamming your back against the door. His mouth found you again as your hands flew to his hair. Your respiration and the wet sounds of your lips finding each other were the only noise in the dark room.

You bit his lips as you remember the human girl kissing him. He hissed, his fingers dipping into your thighs but never stopping you from biting his lips. He pulled back for a second, asking in a hoarse voice.

” Why?”

You panted, opening your eyes as you realized he wasn’t blocking your view with his hand anymore. You looked at his eyes that seemed to shine in a bluish light. Since when Rayafel’s eyes could turn blue..?

” The kiss with the human.” You said, breathing hard. “ f-for our people, I must punish you for that.”

” Please do.”

You moaned as his mouth crashed against your once again. You tugged at his hair as you felt his tongue moving against yours. You could feel your eyes rolled back inside your skull. How could this be so good..?

You both stumbled before falling on the floor in a mess of limbs. You gasped but was more concerned about the fact that you couldn't feel Rafayel’s lips on yours. But it seemed like he was in the same mindset as you. He pinned you to the ground with a wild look, making sure you couldn’t leave before kissing you once more.

” Where did the human touch you?” He asked between kisses. You couldn’t even think correctly. Did a human touch you? Whatever, you just wanted to feel Rafayel against you. “ Answer me. He had a weapon, right?” He grunted as he pressed open kisses on your neck.

”They didn’t..” You breathed as he kissed your skin, sucking the skin or even biting it, making you moan breathlessly.

” They could have hurt you here,” He whispered, kissing your shoulder, “ or even here..” he kissed your collarbones, his heavy breathing making you shiver. “ How dare they threaten the Sea God’s treasure…”

You felt like you could cry, feeling too much at once while knowing too little. You closed your eyes when you felt Rafayel’s hand stroking your cheek tenderly. You looked at him as you felt the tension between you lessen. Your body was still buzzing with an energy you couldn’t comprehend, but you felt calmer than you ever did… And from Rafayel’s face, it seemed like he came back to himself.

” Rafayel..”

”I’m sorry, dear… How are you? Did I hurt you?” he asked while trying to calm his breathing. You smiled fondly at him, nuzzling against his palm.

” Do you feel purified?” You asked with a teasing smile, which seemed to make him relax as he chuckled while nuzzling his nose against yours.

”I feel so much better. Thank you, dear..”

He stood up and helped you raise to your feet. He created a flame that illuminated the room, making you gasp as you looked at Rafayel’s state. His lips were swollen, his hair was moving with the water around, but you could see it was a mess. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes intense but calmer in some way. Like his hunger had been sated, but he was still starving.

You wondered how you looked right now.

“ I guessed you saw the human.” Rafayel grinned, crossing his arms against his torso. You rolled your eyes at him, Was he really going to tease you now? “ What do you think of her?”

”What should I think? She is a human, greedy one.” You shrugged, not really aware that your opinion mattered for Rafayel. He leaned toward you, making you tilt your head with curiosity. “Why?”

”There was another prophecy in the Tome of the Sea God. A human must become my most loyal follower and give me their heart.”

You stared at Rafayel, your eyes wide opened. Was he going to use this woman for the prophecy..? You looked away, would she give her heart..?

You squealed as the door behind you opened wide. Claire looked at the two of you while Cain was behind her. Both of them seemed to be shocked. Cain stuttered, asking for Rafayel to come with him, which your friend did after winking at you.

You followed his body with your eyes until he turned the corner of the hallway. You felt Claire’s hand on your shoulder before she spun you around so you could face her.

��What?”

”Well… I wondered who is the most possessive between the two of you.” She snickered before tugging you in front of a mirror. You almost screamed as you looked at the red mark on your neck and collarbones. Even your lips were swollen from Rafayel’s kisses.

”Rafayel !” You shouted while Claire was laughing behind you. You were blushing so hard. You felt like fainting. You looked at yourself in the mirror and couldn’t help but feel like the mark seemed to make a familiar pattern…

Rafayel’s tattoo.

Some of his kisses marks were in the same place his marks were. Did he do it on purpose…or..? You were so lost…

A few days passed by, and just like usual , you were bantering with Rafayel while your friends were watching the show.

“I remember someone saying that not even fishes would kiss me, yet you seemed desperate to kiss me!”

”Because I knew you would throw a tantrum because I was kissed by a human before you, wasn’t it your inner child’s dream?”

You were ready to rip his throat but stopped as you saw the human walking in the hallways. She seemed so small, you almost felt bad for her. You pushed Rafayel away, as he was celebrating his victory over your banter.

You poked her cheek with a friendly smile, you hoped.

”Hello, Fish Bait.”

”Are you talking about me..?”

” Who else?” You grinned. You tilted your head as the human girl looked at you with awe. “ Yes?”

”I’m sorry. I didn’t really meet a lot of people like you..” She looked away. You winced at her words, Rafayel never talked about her, and you didn’t know why, but each time you approached the human girl—

“Why are you here?”

You both look at Rafayel, who was looking at you with a stern expression. You sighed, waved at the girl, and swam away with Rafayel. You went back to your friend, turning to stare at your God.

”How will she be your most loyal follower if you don’t do anything to show how much of a God you are?” You asked while Rafayel sat on a rock, tugging you between his legs. You heard Claire talking behind you.

”I think he already has a loyal follower.” She teased Rafayel, who pressed his chin against your belly, his eyes never leaving your face. Your hand went instinctively to his cheek, which made him nuzzled against you. “ Heh… Are you two courting..?”

“ Of course not!” You laughed nervously, as if you were enough for the Sea God, “ We’re friends, right Rafayel?”

You froze when you noticed Rafeyel’s gaze. His eyes seemed cold but almost amused. He took your hand and kissed your fingers while staring at you.

“Yes, just two friends, helping each other in time of need…”

You blushed. When did you start not to understand him anymore? His hands on you were so natural, and yet you couldn't help but tense, memories from the kisse you shared coming back to haunt you.

Was Rayafel haunted by this memory, too?

“ You really can’t leave without each other… You’re like the definition of Lemurian’s love.”

You were swimming through the city, wondering what meal you could cook for your brother. He seemed to have caught something and couldn’t move from the bed, which made you tease him for it.

You bumped into the human girl that you renamed Fish Bait and smiled at her. She always seemed to be in awe when her eyes landed on you. You had a short conversation, mostly asking about the human world, and today you wanted more information.

She shyly talked about her life, and you learned that she was supposed to be a sacrifice for the Sea God. You couldn’t help but laugh as you imagine Rafayel killing someone for himself…

Impossible.

Then, she said something that made you tick. There was a place, not too far from here, above the surface where she used to go to search for medicinal herbs. You hummed, your brother was sick, so why not try it?

You thanked her before swimming away.

It took you almost one hour to find that place. Your head bobbed out the water, looking around, making sure no one was here. After ten minutes of looking out, you crawled toward the shore.

You started to look for the flower Fish Bait had described but couldn’t find them. Maybe they were deeper in the woods… But you couldn’t walk there, and you wouldn’t definitely crawl there…

You started to crawl back toward the water before a stinging pain pierce through your tail. You gasped as you looked behind you and paled as three men were staring at you. One had a blade deep into your tail.

” Look at that… Hello, pretty…”

You snarled as a man grabbed you by your hair, making your arch your back painfully. His dirty hands touched your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. You glared at him, trying to be as imitating as you could.

”Yes, she is the one that was there last time.”

You were dragged toward a box full of water, an aquarium said a man. they put a lid on top of it, making it impossible to go. you were punching the glass, snarling, doing anything, but they didn’t seem impressed. They brought you on a boat before sailing toward the ocean.

You were so confused… What did they want to do…

But what bothered you the most was that one man whose gaze never strayed from you. He was the most silent, yet his gaze was screaming something you couldn’t understand.

After a while, they stopped their boat and opened your lid. A man dragged you out of the box as you tried to free yourself. He brought a knife near your throat, whispering in your ear.

”Call out to him.”

You froze, your head slightly turning toward him. Was he talking about…

”Yeah, your little friend…Call him.”

You smiled at him mockingly. If he was talking about Rafayel, you would rather die ten times than call him here. You would protect him. That is the oath you swore a long time ago.

The man didn’t seem pleased. The knife dug into your throat, blood leaking from the cut and falling into the sea.

“ You know, if you don’t want to be useful this way, we can still find another way.” He smirked at you, his pestid breath hitting your nose. You looked in front of you, ignoring him. “ Our boss would be very happy to have a Lemurian as pretty as you… But you are all pretty, we could still find a new one for him.”

You shouted in pain when he slammed your head against the deck. Your tail was being held down by the two other men as your captor touched your scales with mirth in his eyes.

”So pretty… But a corpse doesn't need to be pretty, right lady?”

Your eyes widened as your instinct kicked in. You started to struggle against them, but you screamed in pain when you felt the blade digging into your tail, trying to take a scale from you.

Were you going to die..?

”Sir, the water !”

You looked at the ocean, watching how the serene water started to turn into a storm. The waves were crashing against the boat, making the men hold on to whatever they could.

“ Give her back.”

You looked around, hearing Rafayel’s voice but not seeing him. At first, you thought you were becoming crazy, but the men started to look around, too. They seemed afraid, clinging to their weapons.

The only one who seemed calm was the one with his knife deep into your tail. He looked around, analysing whatever he could.

” Give her back , heh…What in exchange?” He chuckled, seeming way too confident. He tugged your hair, making you stifle a cry of pain. “ Is this your girl? Let me show you something, God of the Sea…” he whispered as his knife left your tail to come toward your throat.

You closed your eyes, not wanting Rafayel to see the fear in your eyes. Everything was going to turn good, soon, you’ll be back in the water, this nightmare will be over..

Your eyes bursted open when you heard a grumble and felt something wet on you; You turned to the side and let out a scream of horror as your captor had his throat sliced open, blood pouring out from his wound straight to you.

“ Look at me.”

You turned your fearful eyes toward the voice, seeing Rafayel in the middle of high waves, his eyes shining blue with power swirling around him. He raised his hand toward you, even though he was far from the boat.

” Come at me. Go back to my side.”

You never saw Rafayel like this, but you didn’t doubt you would be safe next to him. You made sure the two humans weren’t on you anymore before diving in the water and swimming straight to Rafayel.

Once you were close enough, he tugged you against his torso, his eyes analysing your face. His eyes blazed in fury as he saw the cut you had, but he didn’t move.

“ How did you know—“

”Your blood was in the water.” he said calmly, even though you could see the fury in his eyes. He turned his eyes toward the rocking boat, the two men trying to keep it from sinking. “Poor fools.”

You watched as fire appeared from Rafayel’s hand before he pointed the boat. The flames dive toward the men, both of them burning from your God’s anger.

Your eyes couldn’t leave the macabre scene as they jumped in the water. You heard Rafayel chuckled before he dived in the water with you, his tail moving against yours. He took your chin and made you watch as the two made were still burning, even in the water.

Rafayel was stroking your hips while staring at the punishment he had given. You watched until the two men stopped moving..

They were all dead.

You turned your face toward Rafayel, but before you could talk, he took your chin, forcing you to look at him.

” Rafayel… You killed them..”

”Yes.” He whispered, stroking your cheek. He leaned toward you, his forehead against yours. “ Remember, you're the Sea God’s Voice… Which means you can’t die. You can’t leave me..”

You clung to him while his arms kept you against him. Your tails were moving against each other while Rafayel started to sing. His voice was undescriptable, but you couldn't enjoy it long. Your body started to be heavy.

”Sleep, dearest. I’m bringing you back home.”

You let your conscience fade, even if a question remained.

Why did fish bait tell you about this place.. Did she know about all this?

—-

Chapter III

Tags List; @jellyfishstarx @lunia-likes-pomegranet @sleepless-cloudy, @catlurgic @yumesagashite @erendipi

[angelltheninth]

When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

[artficlly]

close quarters [one-shot]

fantasy marvel au bucky x reader when you're assigned a brooding escort for your journey north, the last thing you expect is to be sharing a cramped sleeper car with him. 

Warnings: forced proximity, one bed (kinda), panic attacks, fear of dark, class difference, kissing, generous use of the petname princess, violence, bit of blood/gore/wound descriptions, fluff, kinda sweet, protective bucky, mentions of steve, peggy, sam, dum dum dugan, fantasy elements, monsters, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 9.6k

A/N: hello, i don't expect this to do well, kinda lost motivation near the end as you'll probably be able to tell. I've been working on this one and off the past two weeks but i'm so over it i just need to post it and be done with it. i've been sick and busy with uni so it's kinda mid so apologies but enjoy my flu induced insanity with this one. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist

Your brother’s insistence that you needed an escort was, without a doubt, the most infuriating part of your journey north. A close second—conveniently tied to your initial frustrations—was the escort himself.

Bucky Barnes wasn’t exactly what you’d expected to find waiting at the train station. You had arrived at 8 p.m. sharp, as per your brother’s meticulous instructions. Bucky had the typical rugged, unapproachable look you associated with Flamewardens. There was a certain brooding intensity about him, dashed by a stoic, almost indifferent air. He had spotted you easily, looked you up and down with the barest hint of acknowledgement, and let out a quiet grunt. 

That was the extent of your introduction. 

Yet, for all his glowering, women seemed to flitter around him. You had watched as a group of younger women, likely around your age, whispered and giggled as they cast lingering glances down the platform at your sullen escort. To his credit, he didn’t react or even lift his gaze from the train tracks ahead.

You let your own eyes waver on his profile, dark hair, strong bone structure, straight nose, and eyes like an oncoming storm. Handsome. That was undeniable. Startlingly so, if you were being honest. But you refused to let his looks—or the broad, muscled frame beneath his heavy coat—distract you. Especially not as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, unmistakable flask.

You shot him a scathing look as he tipped back the silver flask, his throat working with each swallow. Whatever was inside had to be strong. The slight wince as he lowered it from his lips gave that much away.

“Is that wise?” Your voice carried a pointed edge, skirting somewhere between disapproval and disgust.

Bucky chuckled, though the sound lacked any true amusement. His breath lingered in the evening air, curling into a thin mist before being carried away by the brisk breeze that serpentined through the exposed railway tracks. “Only way to stay warm, Miss. Only gonna get worse the further north we go.”

He tucked the flask back into his coat. The worn leather of his gloves creaked as he dragged a hand across his stubbled jaw as if brushing away the chill. You hated to admit he had a point. Spring had come late this year—if it had come at all. Even here, in the city, ice still clung stubbornly to the streets, and heavy grey clouds loomed overhead. The snow hadn't yet relented up north, where your brother was waiting.

In the safety of the larger cities, warmth was never a concern. The luxury of fire and heat was abundant. With proper protections and Firewardens employed, there was no fear of the light it produced, or more specifically, there was no fear of what the light might attract. Civilised folk no longer had to shiver in the dark. They had cast aside the weight of thick furs, the obscuring hoods, the need for constant vigilance. But where you were headed, where your brother waited keenly for your arrival, it was different. There, Ignivorae were far more frightening than the cold.

“I just hope you’re not a drunkard,” you muttered, eyes fixed on the empty tracks, the frostbitten metal beginning to hum with the distant approach of the train. You hadn’t meant for him to hear, but his trained ears caught every word.

He scoffed, the sound half jest, half feigned offence. “Why? You gonna rat me out to your brother?”

“You are under his employ,” you reminded him coolly.

Another scoff. “He wouldn’t care, Miss. Hell, if he were here, I bet he’d be doin’ the same as me.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, irritation flickering through your chest. You turned to him then, meeting his gaze directly for the first time. “You don’t know my brother well enough to make such a statement.”

Bucky inclined his head, unimpressed. “Two years is a long time, Princess. Feels even longer out North. I don’t think your brother is quite the same as when he left.”

You had little doubt he was right. Beyond the city limits, out in the rural farmlands, the world stretched isolated and desolate. This was the first time your brother had taken on such a venture alone, desperate to keep the family business alive even after the sudden loss of your parents. A part of you wondered if he had conducted the plan in a haze of grief, or if it was a means of proving himself to whatever invisible pressures he envisioned pressed upon his shoulders.

You sympathised with him, truly, even if he had abandoned you in his pursuit of imagined grandeur. A part of you had stopped expecting to see him again, had never anticipated his summons. But now, it seemed, he was finally ready to need you. Finally willing to accept your help.

The thought soured in your gut as you scowled at Bucky. 

“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, refusing to let your voice be swallowed by the growing roar of the train.

“Call you what?” 

“Princess.”

The train rushed past, a violent gust of wind pulling at your coat as the metal beast groaned to a stop, sparks flaring against the melting ice before flickering out.

Bucky exhaled, shaking his head as he adjusted the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder. “Where we’re goin’, you’ll prolly be the closest thing to a princess they’ve ever seen. You’re a proper-bred lady compared to the folk out there.”

“Does that distinction truly matter that much?”

You had never thought of yourself as well-bred. Privileged, maybe, but not delicate, not sheltered in the way Bucky seemed to imply. Your parents had been wealthy, yes, and you’d received an education few could afford. You had never gone hungry, never shivered through winter, never known true desperation. But your family’s fortune hadn’t come from lineage or titles. Your parents had carved it out themselves, built it from nothing with a mix of skill, relentless work, and a hell of a lot of luck.

It was a dangerous formula, one your brother was determined to replicate.

“To them, it will,” Bucky said, his tone carrying the weight of certainty. “Especially if you ain’t prepared to get your hands dirty.”

You gave a terse, humourless smile as you stepped toward the waiting train. “Well, good thing that is my brother’s job, not mine.”

Bucky huffed out something between a laugh and a sigh, watching as you handed your ticket to the conductor. Then, with an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he followed you aboard.

—

“This can’t be right. They’re expecting us to share a compartment—?”

By the time you reached your assigned sleeper car, the train was already rocking back into motion, the shrill whistle signalling your official departure north.

The train itself was plain but sturdy, built for endurance rather than luxury. The windows were fitted with metal shutters that could be pulled down from the inside—a feature you weren’t sure was meant for privacy or protection. You had passed through the lounge car, where Bucky had eyed the open bar with distinct interest and a dining car for breakfast, lunch and dinner service. However, your silent approval of your brother's transportation choice was promptly shattered when you caught sight of your assigned compartment. 

The compartment was tight, with only a small walkway that had another space for you to stand. If you were generous enough in your observations, you could lie to yourself and say that it allowed the room for you to walk two paces in either direction. One side held a stiff leather bench, its upholstery worn but well-maintained, bolted against dark wooden panelling. Above it, a metal luggage rack with frayed fabric straps provided limited storage. 

It was the other side that filled you with horror.

You wouldn’t have complained about the cramped space if it weren’t blatantly obvious you would have to share it with your hulking escort. Two bunks lined the opposite wall, the mattresses thin and stiff, large enough to accommodate one person each. A ladder at the end next to the window allowed easier access to the top bunk. You took one look at the lumpy pillows, dull green sheets and scratchy blanket that had been neatly folded by the feet end of the beds and turned around. You barely had time to process your own dismay before you were met with a wall of muscle as Bucky pressed in close, making way for other passengers filing through the narrow corridor. His chest was solid, his coat rough against your cheek, and you recoiled back.

Unfazed, he flicked his wrist, turning his ticket over to confirm the compartment number. “It’s what is on the tickets, Princess.”

You stepped back again, putting as much space between you as the cramped compartment would allow. “Don’t call me that, and this can’t be what my brother meant by ‘escort’—”

“His exact words,” Bucky interrupted, tucking his ticket back into his coat. “Keep my eyes on you. Keep you safe. Deliver you to Glenwyck.”

You exhaled sharply, glaring up at him. “So you’re going to watch over my every move? How am I supposed to get changed? Just rely on your gentlemanly instinct to turn a blind eye? Which might I mention, I have seen very little of—”

"There's a bathroom at the end of the train car." His tone was dry, as if he were already exhausted by this conversation. "You can use that for changin’. And whatever other business you think is necessary."

"How kind of you." You dropped your luggage onto the seat with a huff.

Bucky stepped further into the cramped compartment, either oblivious or determined to rile you up. The back of your knees pressed flush against the leather bench as he closed the distance, dipping his head so near that you could feel the warmth of his breath ghost against your skin.

With effortless ease, he hoisted your luggage and swung it into the wire rack above. The movement and sway of the train forced your chests to brush. Just for a few seconds. Just enough to make you swallow hard and for a tinge of pink to dust your cheeks. But before you could shuffle away, he reached for his own bag, taking his sweet time as he secured it into place. 

You clenched your jaw, irritation bubbling hotter with every second you spent trapped between his broad chest and the wooden panelling behind you. If he noticed, he didn’t care. Or worse—he enjoyed it.

“Now, tell me, Princess. Are you going to be picky about your bunk too?” Bucky hadn’t moved, lingering far too close, his broad frame crowding the already-cramped space. He was looking down at you with a rather lazy grin on his face as if he was particularly amused with the sour expression you regarded him with. 

“No.”

“Wonderful.” He drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. You didn’t bite back, instead feeling your shoulders droop in relief as he finally backed up. With a grunt, he dropped onto the bottom bunk, stretching his legs out as if he’d already made himself at home. “I’ll take bottom, you take top.”

You stiffly nodded, trying not to linger on how ridiculous this arrangement was. Sharing a compartment was one thing, but a room barely large enough for the both of you, sleeping in bunks not even an arm’s length apart? You hesitated, debating whether to sit across from him and pretend he didn’t exist or escape to the relative privacy of your bed. 

The choice was easy.

Without another word, you clambered up the narrow ladder, the mattress shifting beneath you as you settled in. At least up here, out of his immediate line of sight, you could pretend for a moment that you weren’t stuck sharing close quarters with a complete stranger. A man, at that.

You let out a slow breath, staring at the cream-coloured curve of the train’s ceiling as the steady rumble of the tracks beneath you filled the silence.

God, you hoped your brother had put his trust in the right man.

—

"At least open the window if you’re going to smoke in here," you muttered, tugging your bootlaces tight with a firm yank. You were perched on the edge of the stiff leather seat, dressing for breakfast, while the faint hum of the train carried on beneath you.

You’d slept well—surprisingly well. The rhythmic sway of the train had lulled you into a deep, dreamless rest, a rare reprieve from the constant churn of thought that had plagued you for weeks. For those few blissful hours, you weren’t fretting over your reunion with your brother, or what exactly waited for you up north. You certainly hadn’t been thinking about your frustrating, tight-lipped escort.

Bucky was posted by the window, one shoulder propped lazily against the frame, cigarette between his fingers. He hadn’t said a word to you since the night before, and you weren’t sure if he’d slept at all. You’d awoken to find him already awake, elbows braced on his knees, methodically rolling tobacco like it was the only thing keeping his hands busy.

Beyond him, the world outside had vanished into white. Snow blanketed the earth, smoothing the rough land into a quiet, endless plain. No houses. No fences. Just the distant silhouette of mountains breaking up the pale sky.

"I can open the window if you want, Princess," he said without looking at you, voice low and gravel-edged. "But all you’ll get is a cabin full’a coal smoke."

You shot him a glare, then rolled your eyes and stood, brushing the creases from your coat with a sigh of forced patience. You’d learned, albeit reluctantly, that pushing him got you nowhere—at least, not without a headache in return.

“I’m going to breakfast,” you said crisply, sliding the compartment door open and casting one last look over your shoulder.

He pushed off the windowsill and followed without a word. Of course, he did.

For all his witty remarks and infuriatingly smug demeanour, Bucky took his job seriously. Wherever you went, he was just a step behind—silent, watchful, and always armed with that barely concealed impatience. He even waited outside the women’s lavatory, arms crossed, like a guard dog forced to sit through etiquette lessons.

You had no doubt that, given the choice, he’d rather have spent the journey holed up in the bar car or asleep in a quiet corner. But duty clearly came first.

The train was scheduled to stop in Hollowpass by evening, a final pitstop before you boarded the next line toward Norcross. From there, you had two more days of travel—by carriage, no less—until you reached Glenwyck. Your brother’s outpost.

No train lines reached that far north. Too remote, too wild. Just frostbitten roads and vast stretches of wilderness. And Bucky Barnes, your less-than-charming, maddeningly handsome escort, to lead the way.

Wonderful.

You stumbled, the floor pitching beneath your boots just as a blur of motion came barreling down the narrow walkway. A firm hand caught the back of your collar and yanked you sharply backwards into the compartment right as a trolley clattered past, steered by a flustered cleaning woman who offered a breathless apology as she vanished down the corridor.

Your back landed squarely against Bucky’s chest, the breath knocked out of you more from the closeness than the pull.  “Careful, Princess,” he murmured, voice low beside your ear before letting you go.

You gripped the doorframe to steady yourself, heart skipping for reasons you chose not to examine too closely.

“How are you gonna survive in Glenwyck,” he drawled, “if I can’t trust you not to get run over on a damn train?”

You twisted around with an irritated look, brushing your hands over your skirt to smooth it back into place. “You’re rather dramatic, you know that?”

He only shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just doing my job, Princess.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him into the corridor, leading the way.

The sleeper car stretched ahead of you, its narrow passage lined with compartments like the one you’d just vacated. The metal shutters had been slid open now it was morning, the orange glow of the sunrise casting a glow over the polished brass handles and dark wood panelling. You passed passengers still tucked into their compartments, some reading, others quietly sipping tea or peering out windows wrapped in thick scarves. You pressed on, following the distant tang of strong coffee.

When you finally reached the dining car, you were quick to find an empty table. The tables were arranged in neat rows along either side of the carriage, bolted securely to the floor with matching bench seats upholstered in deep green velvet. You slid into the booth nearest the window, the cushioning stiff beneath you. Bucky settled across from you with a grunt, his eyes swept the car.

You eyed your escort as you delicately draped one of the napkins across your lap. In the daylight, he looked younger than you had first assumed. The lines on his face seemed less carved by time and more etched by worry. His stubble had grown out further, darkening his jaw in a shadow.

“How long have you known my brother?” you asked, tone light, almost casual. However, your gaze didn’t waver from over the rim of your teacup.

Bucky’s eyes flicked to you, surprise flashing across his face like he hadn’t expected you to speak, let alone ask something personal. Until now, most of your time together had passed in silence. He kept to himself, either smoking, draining cup after cup of bitter black coffee, or nursing that damn flask of his. Always wound tight, like a viper coiled in wait. 

“‘round two years,” he said finally, guarded. “I was workin’ as a Firewarden in the city. Your brother came through and convinced a bunch of us to sign on with him.”

You tilted your head. “How did he manage that?”

Bucky gave a short scoff and leaned back against the booth, his arm slung along the top of the velvet seating.“Hell if I know. One week I’m lazin’ around the city guardhouse, the next I’m freezing my ass off patrollin’ the edge of some nowhere, nobody town I ain’t ever heard of. Your brother talked like the place was already rebuilt. Like it’s a done deal. Gets in your head like that.”

You smiled faintly. “He gets that from our father. He was like that too. Good at leading people. Better at convincing them they wanted to be led.”

Bucky raised a brow, studying you. “How’d your family even get into this line of work?”

You hesitated, then set your cup down and rested your hands on the table. “My father grew up in the city. But he met my mother at one of those old debutante balls—they used to invite girls from rural towns and farmsteads to give them a shot at something different. She caught his eye. When he travelled north to meet her family, to ask for her hand… he was horrified.”

“Horrified?” Bucky echoed.

You nodded. “They were barely surviving. No access to reliable fire, which meant no protection. No fuel, no heat. Elders froze to death in their sleep. Crops dead. Livestock gone. And the Ignivorae…”

You shuddered, though the memory didn’t belong to you. Your mother had repeated it countless times until it had practically become your own. “Towns would light pyres and pray their tenders could keep them burning through the night. Others would go dark completely. No light, no sound. Just hoping the Ignivorae would pass them by.”

He was quiet for a beat.

“So your father stepped in.”

You nodded again. “He saw the problem for what it was. Cities survived because they had infrastructure. They had fire. Steady, managed fire. But out in the rural zones, people were alone. Busy farming, raising children, barely getting by. Staying up all night with a torch and a pitchfork wasn’t sustainable. And most of them couldn’t afford to hire proper wardens.”

You looked down, fingers idly toying with the corner of your napkin. “So my father hired them himself and paid for the fuel to burn too. They’d build firelines on the outskirts, massive pyres like the ones in the city to burn hot and long enough to lure the Ignivorae away from homes. If the flames didn’t kill the things outright, the wardens would. ”

Bucky was quiet, eyes drifting toward the window. The snow had deepened outside, smooth hills like frozen waves rolling across the plain. The sun peeked over the horizon in slivers of pale gold and silver, bouncing off the frost-bitten world in blinding flashes. Mountains loomed ahead like jagged teeth, their peaks lost in cloud.

“With protection in place, people could sleep again. And once that foundation was stable, once the fireline was holding… then my father would start investing. Building industry. Bringing in trade, tourism, and shipping routes when the rivers allowed for it. Giving the town something to build on.”

The dining car had filled slightly while you talked. The clinking of cutlery and low murmurs of conversation filled the space. A few other passengers sat at the other tables, most dressed in heavy coats and wool scarves. One man read a newspaper folded neatly in front of him, while a young woman stirred sugar into her tea.

“Then my mother stepped in. I did too, once I was old enough,” you went on. “She’d open little schoolhouses, sometimes just in empty sheds or old barns at first. We taught the adults first. Reading, writing, and arithmetic so they could manage their own businesses when they came. And then we taught the children, so the next generation didn’t grow up at the mercy of someone else’s charity.”

Bucky turned toward you again, his expression unreadable. That same brooding stare, heavy-lidded and cryptic, like he was always walking the line between irritation and interest. 

“Didn’t peg you for the charitable type,” he said at last.

You gave him a dry look. “It’s not charity. It’s a foundation. If you want people to build something that lasts, you have to teach them how to keep it standing.”

He considered that, thumb tapping once against the edge of the table.

“And when the towns were strong enough to hire their own wardens and run their own schools?” he asked.

“We moved on,” you said simply. “All my father asked was one percent of their profits each year. Over time, it added up. He used that money to invest in the next place.”

Bucky didn’t answer immediately. He just leaned back, eyes still on you. The sunrise spilt gold across his features, catching on the stubble along his jaw, casting shadows beneath his tired eyes.

“Sounds borderline predatory, Princess,” he said finally.

You gave a faint smile, one without warmth. “It’s business.”

A pause settled between you, brief but heavy.

“My brother trusts you enough to send you on this escort job, and you barely know anything about him?”

“Didn’t come up much in conversation, Princess,” he said, rolling a shoulder in a slow shrug. “Too busy not getting killed. Hell, I didn’t even know he had a sister until he handed me this job.”

You frowned, studying him. “You follow someone that blindly?”

“I follow people who get things done,” he said. “And if he says protectin’ you is part of the deal, then that’s what I’m doin’.”

—

The wind cut sharp through Hollowpass Station, knifing through coats and gloves, the chill carving you down to the bone. Beneath your boots, the platform creaked, salt to banish the ice crunching underfoot. The sun was long gone, leaving the world drained of colour, lit only by moonlight and fire.

Far beyond the edge of the town, a pyre roared like a heartbeat in the dark. Massive, constant and crackling. You watched it through the flurries of snow, that distant beacon where the Firewardens stood vigil. The Ignivorae circled in lazy, sweeping arcs above the flames, dark silhouettes, long-limbed and hungry. One would dive suddenly, vanishing into the fire with a hiss and a burst of embers. The swarm would follow, mindless, forever drawn to the searing light.

Bucky stood nearby, gloved hands jammed into his coat pockets, shoulders hunched. A dusting of snow clung to his hair and the curve of his collar. He wasn’t watching the pyre, instead scanning the tracks as if willing the train into existence through sheer force of irritation.

You hesitated, teeth worrying your bottom lip, then stepped a little closer. Not enough to touch, just enough to share the heat from his body.

He didn’t move. Just gave a small, knowing smirk without looking at you. “You cold, Princess?”

You huffed lightly, eyes still on the horizon. “A little.”

“Gonna get a lot worse where we’re headed,” he said casually. 

A low whistle echoed across the pass. You turned toward the sound, the relief unspoken. You would not be the only one on the platform anxious to be on board where it was warm and sheltered. Somewhere in the dark, gears shifted, and brakes hissed, metal groaning in protest as the train began to slow its approach.

“Do they ever break through?” you asked quietly, nodding toward the fire.

Bucky’s expression turned stony again. “Sometimes.”

“And if that happens while we are out here?”

He tilted his head, considering. “Then you better hope I’m as good as I say I am.”

The train emerged from the darkness like a beast of iron, the plume of smoke engulfing the falling snow. Around you, the waiting crowd stirred, boots shifting on the frost-glazed platform, murmured conversations fading into anticipation. A conductor stepped forward, shoulders hunkered against the cold and swung down the footstools with practised rhythm. Another man unlatched the station door, shouting over the chatter of passengers as mail and luggage were wheeled out.

You felt the press of people closing in, eager to board. A woman with a bundled baby stood just behind you, and further back, a pair of merchants argued softly over seating. Bucky didn’t move, didn’t even seem to notice the gathering heat of bodies around him. He kept his eyes on the tracks, one hand resting lightly on the strap of his pack.

You leaned slightly toward him. “You travel a lot, then? You seem very at ease with all this.”

“I get around.” He drawled, gaze still on the tracks. “You always this nosy?”

You caught his eye, refusing to let it go. The cold air curled around your cheeks, but the heat building in your chest was enough to thaw any frost.

“You’re a mystery to me,” you confessed, your voice barely above the noise around you. “Maybe I find that interesting.”

He turned to look at you then—really look at you. His pupils dilated, irises flicking across your face like he was mapping something he didn’t quite expect to find. Your teeth grazed your bottom lip, but you didn’t look away.

“Yeah?” he murmured, just for you. “What exactly is it you’re hopin’ to figure out, Princess?”

“You haven’t told me anything about yourself,” you replied, letting the wind catch your words. “Other than that you used to be a Firewarden in the city and work for my brother now.”

He lifted his brows. “You never asked.”

“Well,” you said, leaning just a little closer as the platform shuddered with the weight of the train’s arrival, “I’m asking now.”

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, the shove of the crowd pulled him closer to you, his warm breath fanning across your chilled cheeks. “What do you want to know?”

You opened your mouth, but your words were lost as the train neared. The brakes shrieked against the frozen rails, a grinding howl that sent a cascade of bright sparks down the line. You flinched from the sound, blinking against the sudden burst of light.

For one breath, it was quiet as you blinked away the stars in your vision.

A scream rang out behind you. 

Then another. 

The platform erupted in chaos, boots scrambling, bags abandoned, a child crying as they were yanked backwards by the hand. Shouts rose, some in warning, others pure terror. 

The Ignivorae hit the platform with a sickening crunch, its claws punching through the wooden planks like it was paper. A monstrous silhouette of twisted anatomy, the creature loomed in the firelight, half-moth, half-man. Its gangly limbs bent at the wrong angles, ending in hooked talons slick with frost. Translucent wings stretched wide behind it, tattered and powdered, like those of a colossal night moth.

Its face—if you could call it that—was a hideous blend of bone-white mandibles and jagged teeth, stretching unnaturally wide. Two bulbous eyes blinked out of sync, scanning the crowd. 

You’d never seen an Ignivorae this close before, not mere paces away. You had seen them at a distance, grown up watching as they dived into the pyres at night. You’d heard descriptions. Your father or brother telling gruesome stories of the outskirts while your mother scolded and ushered you away—‘such stories are not appropriate for young ladies’. In all your years, you had wondered what you would do if faced with such a moment. What would you do if one broke free from the swarm, disregarded the Firewarden’s efforts, and came straight for you? Would you grab a weapon, fight, scream, run?

To your disappointment, all you found was that you froze, as if the ice from the platform had crept up your legs and locked you in place.

With one violent shudder, it threw its wings forward. A cloud of fine, shimmering dust exploded into the air, catching in the light like gold. The effect was anything but beautiful. Screams tore through the crowd as the dust landed on exposed skin, the powder causing instant stinging. Red welts rose in its wake like a poisonous plant’s touch. People scattered in a frenzy, tripping over luggage and each other to escape.

A shriek tore from its throat, shrill and distorted, like metal bending under strain.

You still stood rigid, breath caught in your throat.

Bucky shoved you back, hard enough that your shoulder slammed into a column. “Stay down!” he barked.

The Ignivorae’s milky eyes swung around and locked on Bucky.

He didn’t hesitate.

With a sharp motion, he pulled a hunting knife from inside his coat and rushed the creature. You had no idea where your escort had produced it from nor how long he had been so easily armed on this trip of yours. But rather than worry, you were rather grateful for his cunning. The Ignivorae lunged, jaws unhinging to reveal a mouth full of jagged, needle-like teeth. Bucky ducked beneath them, rolled forward, and drove the blade deep into its abdomen. Thick, black blood sprayed across the frozen platform in thick, oily ropes.

The creature shrieked and thrashed, claws tearing through the air. One struck his shoulder, ripping the fabric clean and exposing the skin beneath. Its wings flared again, dust bursting across him in a glittering veil.

Bucky hissed as the powder kissed his neck and collarbone, shoulder jerking back.

He yanked the blade free and, in one clean movement, rammed it up beneath the creature’s jaw, right into the base of its skull. The Ignivorae gave one final, horrible twitch, then collapsed in a heap of twitching limbs and curling wings.

You scrambled to your feet as Bucky staggered back, breath visible in the frigid air. The bloodied knife remained clenched in his grip. His chest heaved, and an angry rash had already bloomed across the bare skin of his throat and collarbone. 

Without a word, he shook himself off, using his gloved hands to swipe the lingering powder from his coat and pants. He moved carefully, methodically, ensuring no dust remained on the fabric before lowering the knife.

Behind him, the platform was chaos. Passengers sprinted for the station, some rolling and shrieking in pain as the dust settled, others throwing themselves aboard with panicked shouts.

Bucky’s eyes met yours. His jaw was tight, temple flecked with black blood.

“Come on,” he growled. He gave his gloves one final shake, checked the backs of his hands, and then reached for you. His fingers curled around your wrist, tugging you toward the waiting train.

You stumbled after him, breath hitching, heart racing. “Bucky, are you okay? Are you hurt?” You couldn’t stop looking at the rash blooming angry red across his throat, the skin raw where the powder had settled. “Your skin—”

“I’m fine,” he bit out, dragging you onto the train as the doors hissed open. He didn’t let go of your wrist until you were inside, pushing past confused passengers and frantic attendants. “It’s just the dust. Burns like hell.”

You followed him down the narrow corridor, voice shaking. “You shouldn’t have…God, you could’ve died—”

“I didn’t,” he said, leading you into your sleeper compartment and shutting the door behind you. The sounds of panic outside muffled instantly, replaced by the hum of the train and your uneven breath. “This is my job, Princess.”

The rash on his neck looked worse, creeping like vines toward his collarbone.

“You’re not fine,” you said, reaching for his shirt. “Let me see it—”

Bucky caught your wrist again, gentler this time. His eyes, still alert from the fight, softened just a little. “I’ll live.”

You were both breathing hard, the adrenaline still lingering in your limbs. The cabin was just like the last train, with tight quarters and iron fixtures with the same thin, cream-coloured walls and dark wood panelling. Leather seating with overhead luggage storage lined one side, while two narrow bunks lined the other, the lower mattress already creaking under Bucky as he sat down heavily, bracing his elbows on his knees.

“Let me help you.” You argued, holding his gaze with a determination that, deep down, even surprised you.

 He exhaled slowly, head tipping back against the wall. 

“Check my bag. There’s a jar.” His voice was quieter now but steady. “There's a woman in Glenwyck, a healer. She makes ‘em up for the Wardens. Helps with the rash. This ain’t the first time I’ve been covered in that dust. Won’t be the last.”

You turned to the leather satchel he’d tossed carelessly on the seat opposite. The zipper resisted at first, stiff with cold, but inside was a mess of folded shirts, a canteen, a few loose rolling papers, and the jar he’d mentioned. 

“How did the Ignivorae get past the Wardens? I thought we would’ve been safe so far away.” You muttered, mostly to yourself, as you fished the jar from his bag. 

“Sometimes they get past, probably saw the sparks from the breaks and saw an easy target.” Bucky replied through grit teeth. You tossed a look over at him, noting how sweat misted his brow, wincing in pain as the train began to rumble to life once more. You unscrewed the jar lid, and sure enough, a pungent pine scent hit your nose, sharp and earthy, undercut with something vaguely medicinal.

Outside the window, the night blurred by in streaks of white snow and distant firelight. You moved toward him carefully, the jar in one hand. 

“Collar,” you instructed, and he tugged the neck of his torn shirt loose without protest, baring the angry red rash that bloomed along his collarbone and crept up his throat.

When your fingers touched his skin, his eyes flicked up to yours.

You dipped your index finger into the salve and dragged it gently along the inflamed skin, spreading it in careful strokes, watching as it sank in with a faint sheen. The silence between you grew thicker with every slow motion. You tried not to notice how close you were now, standing between his knees, your breath shallow and uneven.

“How long does it take to kick in?” You questioned, voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers smoothed up his neck, muscle and tendons shifting under your touch. You swept a thumb across his jugular, and he swallowed hard, throat bobbing.

“The pain fades first,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse. “Rash’ll stick around for a day or two.”

You were the first to look away.

You screwed the lid back on with a quiet click and stepped toward the bag resting on the seat. The train lurched under your feet, and you reached for the bunk rail to steady yourself—only to find Bucky already there, his hands catching your waist, steadying you like it was second nature.

His bag slid off the seat behind you, spilling its contents across the cabin floor.

You hid the flush rising to your cheeks, brushing his hands away gently as you crouched to the floor. “I’ve got it.”

“Princess—” he muttered, shifting like he might kneel down too.

“Sit still,” you cut in, already scooping up his belongings. He let out a sound—half a sigh, half a grumble—but obeyed, leaning back against the wall as you stuffed shirts and supplies back into the leather pack.

It was only as you blindly grasped a stack of thick paper that you hesitated, eyes glancing up. In your hand, you held a bundle of letters wrapped in twine. At least a dozen, maybe more, none of them opened. The edges were worn, some water-stained, others wrinkled from being carried too long. A few still had wax seals, cracked from travel but untouched.

“Bucky…” you said, turning them over slowly. “What are these?”

He didn’t look at you. “Letters.”

“I can see that.” You cut back, exasperated, peeking up at him. “You haven’t opened any of them.”

“I know.” He responded, and for a moment, you thought that was all he would give you. But after what appeared to be a lengthy internal deliberation, he sighed through his nose and offered you a further explanation. “They’re from my friend. Steve.”

“And you haven’t read them?” Your thumb ran down the corner of the stack, the paper flicking against your nail. “These must go back months.”

He didn’t answer immediately, just leaned back against the wall with a straight face. He was watching you with that same vigilant calm, like he was already bracing for whatever reaction he was worried you might give.

“I can’t read,” he confessed finally.

You stilled. “You can’t… what?”

Your voice caught in surprise as you turned toward him fully. “But you’ve been reading the tickets, the signs—why would your friend keep sending letters if—?”

“I can read a bit,” he interrupted. 

“I know enough words to get by. Basics. Just not enough to keep up with letters like that.” His tone was slightly irritated as if he was unsure if your questions were mocking or genuine confusion. “The letters were for me and a friend, Sam. He could read. That’s why Steve would send ‘em.”

“Sam’s been dead about a year now, so…” He trailed off, eyes fixed on the dark panelling opposite. “I had no way to tell Steve. So I just… held onto the letters. I figured I’d read them eventually. Once I learned.”

“I’m sorry about your friend.”

Your gaze dropped to the stack again, fingers gently brushing over one of the names penned in Steve’s neat, looping script. Sam must have died working in Glenwyck. You could blame your brother for drawing him to that place, but Glenwyck was no crueller than any other firepost. The Firewardens knew the risks. It didn’t make it any less tragic.

Bucky only grunted in response. From your place on the floor, you studied him quietly. Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he wasn’t gruff for the sake of being difficult or to scare you. Maybe there really was a weight he carried, something heavy and damaged beneath the sharp edges. Had sorrow or bitterness carved itself into him after everything he’d seen?

And against your better judgment, you offered something small. “I could read them for you. Teach you how to read. If… if that’s something you’d want?”

His brows knit together, jaw tightening as he mulled over your words. Then it set hard. “I don’t want to be another one of your charity cases, Princess—”

You cut him off. “It’s not charity, remember? It’s foundation.”

He stared down at you, lips set in a fine line as he contemplated. 

“...Okay.”

You grinned, hoisting yourself up onto the mattress beside him. He blinked at your sudden movement, instinctively leaning back as you settled next to him, letters in hand. For a moment, his guarded expression cracked, just long enough for surprise to flicker in his eyes.

Reading mystery letters for your sullen escort would be the perfect temporary distraction, and the bonus was that maybe you’d learn something new about him. Something he wouldn’t explicitly tell you himself unless sufficiently prompted. 

You held up the bundle with a teasing smile. “Maybe, if you behave, I’ll even help you write back.”

He gave you a sidelong look, but the corner of his mouth twitched into a reluctant smirk. “Now you’re pushin’ it.”

You laughed, light and genuine. “Worth a shot.”

—

A few hours had passed, marked only by the clack of wheels over frozen tracks and the steady glow of the oil lamp overhead. Letters were strewn across the bunk and spilt onto the floor like fallen leaves, pages soft and yellowing, ink curling in elegant loops. To your mild disappointment, you’d discovered that the mysterious ‘Steve’ wasn’t the author of those elegant words. It was his wife, Peggy, who had penned most of the letters in his stead while he worked the pyres. You were curled into the corner of the bottom bunk, your shoulder pressed against Bucky’s as you read another aloud.

“‘—and then Steve nearly broke his own nose trying to prove to Dugan that he could knock a pinecone off the fence post from thirty paces. It was like watching two puppies try to arm wrestle. I had to bribe the store clerk with liquorice just to get him to hand over an ice pack.’” You snorted a laugh, eyes dancing as you glanced up at Bucky.

He was grinning—really grinning—for the first time all day. “Dugan always gets him so wound up. It’s a miracle the two of them haven’t killed each other yet.”

“And Peggy bribed someone with liquorice for him?”

“Of course she did. They’ve been together for years, but she still acts like the exasperated schoolteacher, and he’s the scrappy kid with skinned knees and dirt on his chin.”

You smiled softly, letting the letter drift onto the growing pile between you.

“Why didn’t Steve and Peggy go with you and Sam to Glenwyck?” you asked, hesitantly glancing over at Bucky.

He shifted slightly, gaze distant. “He considered it. The pay was better, no doubt. But they’d just got married, and they were trying for a baby… didn’t want to raise a kid in that kind of place. It’s hard enough just surviving it.”

“I get it.” You hummed, selecting the next letter on the pile. You were about halfway through now, around six months deep. “Probably why my brother didn’t want me out there with him.”

“Did he write you much?” Bucky asked. “While he was out there?”

“No.” You replied, being careful not to meet his eye as you frowned. “I didn’t expect to hear from him ever again, to be honest.”

“You thought he abandoned you?” You could feel the heat of his gaze on your cheek as you refused to meet his eye.

“Kind of… I—” You were cut off as the door slid open with a rattling clang, and a uniformed attendant stepped into the frame. He peaked around the side, down to where you and Bucky sat on the bottom bunk, knees and shoulders touching. 

“We’re entering blackout protocol,” he said briskly. “There’s been a report of a swarm of Ignivorae sighted along the pass ahead. All windows must be shut, and metal shutters secured. No lights. All lamps and candles extinguished until morning.”

You sat up straighter, a chill slicing through your earlier comfort.

“How long until we reach them?” Bucky asked, already rising to his feet.

“Twenty minutes, maybe less. Best to be ready.” The attendant gave a curt nod, then slid the door shut with a decisive snap.

Before you could fully register what was happening, Bucky moved. He crossed the compartment in two strides and dragged the heavy metal shutter down over the window with a grinding creak, locking it in place. 

You remained on the bunk, gathering the scattered letters into your lap with slow, distracted movements. Your gaze drifted toward the sealed window, then the door. Already, your imagination filled in the silence, the scrape of claws against the glass, the dry whisper of wings brushing steel.

Bucky reached for the oil lamp mounted near the door.

“Wait—” you blurted, your voice small and unsure.

He hesitated, eyes finding yours. “It’s okay.”

And then, with a twist of his hand, the flame vanished.

Darkness swept in like a wave.

The only sound left was the soft rumble of the train, the occasional jostle of the carriage, and the muffled shuffle of other passengers beyond your door. You swallowed hard, trying not to let the fear sit too heavy in your chest.

The mattress shifted. You felt Bucky’s hand brush your arm gently, guiding, not pulling. 

“You wanna head up top to sleep?” he asked quietly. “Best to get some rest before we hit Norcross. Won’t be much shuteye once we’re in the carriage.”

You didn’t move. Your knees locked, rooted in place as something old and cold took hold of your limbs. Without thinking, your fingers wrapped around his wrist, nails catching in the fabric of his sleeve.

“I don’t… I—”

Bucky stilled. “You alright, Princess?”

“You’re going to laugh at me.” The words came out in a rush, and Bucky paused. You could feel him hovering above, silence stretched between you. “I’m afraid—”

“Hell, Princess. After what you just heard, I think anyone would be—”

“No,” you cut him off. “Not of the Ignivorae.”

Your voice cracked. “I’m scared of the dark.”

A pause.

“…What?”

“See?” you muttered, already curling in on yourself. “I knew you’d laugh—”

“You hear me laughing?” Bucky said flatly. You heard the soft rustle of his collar. He was shaking his head. “I’m just tryin’ to understand. You’ve done blackouts before, haven’t you?”

“Not true blackouts,” you whispered. “I’ve always lived where there are Wardens. Never fully dark. There would always be the glow from the fires, even at night. I just got used to it, I suppose.”

“I get it. I do.” Bucky replied, though it was accompanied by a long sigh. “We can’t have any light, though, you understand?”

“I know, I just…”

“C’mere.”

You blinked as his arm eased around you, gently pulling you back. In the dark, it was a clumsy tangle of elbows and whispered apologies as he shifted onto the mattress beside you, legs stretched out. He found the wall and leaned against it, adjusting you with him until your side pressed to his, and his arm was warm and firm around your shoulders, guiding you into the curve of his chest.

You didn’t resist.

You let yourself settle there, head resting against the soft thrum of his heartbeat, the faint scent of pine and smoke on his shirt. His thumb brushed against your upper arm in slow, grounding circles.

“If there’s one thing I can promise, Princess,” Bucky murmured, voice low near your ear, “it never gets properly dark in Glenwyck. Wardens keep the pyres lit all through the night. You’ll feel right at home.”

You smiled faintly against his chest. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting yourself drift, allowing the tingling sparks in your spine and the butterflies in your stomach to drown out the shadow that had gripped you moments before.

“Thank you—” you began to whisper, but the words died on your lips as a loud bang cracked through the carriage.

It echoed like a thunderclap against hollow steel. Somewhere further down the train, a woman cried out. A muffled yelp, cut off just as quickly. You jolted upright, heart slamming into your throat.

“What was that?” you gasped, voice trembling.

Bucky’s hand found your waist again, pulling you back against him. “The start of the swarm.”

Your body stiffened. “There’s nothing we can do?”

He was quiet for a moment. When he finally answered, his voice was calm but firm. “No. Safest thing is to ride it out. We’re sealed in tight. Metals thick, train’s fast. They won’t get in.”

You tried to steady your breathing, but your head whipped toward him in the dark. Even with your faces just inches apart, you couldn’t see him—couldn’t see anything.

“Then what was that noise?”

"One of ‘em. Hit the side of the train. Likely died on impact." His voice was clear and deliberate like he was trying to anchor you with the certainty of it. As if he knew that if you could just understand, truly believe the train was too fast, too strong, too sealed for them to breach, you might be able to quiet the fear clawing its way up your chest.

But, as if summoned by his words, another bang, closer this time, rang out. Then another. A few passengers gasped. Someone down the car stifled a scream. The train rocked slightly under the force of the impacts. You clung to Bucky’s shirt now, the fabric balled in your fists.

The air felt too thin, like this train of death was suddenly headed up a steep mountain where your lungs could never truly be full.

The next strike was louder like something bigger had collided with the carriage. You flinched hard, pressing your face into Bucky’s shoulder. His arm tightened around you, his other hand bracing against the wall behind.

Then, the real storm began.

Bang—bang—bang! 

A rapid succession of impacts, like hailstones the size of skulls, hammering against the train’s body. The metal groaned, wheels screeching beneath you as the train barreled forward, but the sounds of the Ignivorae overpowered everything else. The shrieks and shouts of other passengers mixed in, panicked, pleading, praying.

Something scraped along the roof.

You let out a choked sob, the noise strangled in your throat. You buried yourself deeper into Bucky’s chest, the darkness pressing in on all sides. You couldn’t see. You couldn’t breathe. Every bang sounded like the end.

The screams got louder.

The sound grew. Deafening. Hundreds of bodies, maybe more, slamming against the train, shrieking past the windows like banshees in flight. You were shaking violently now, your hands trembling as they clutched at him. A cry tore out of you, high-pitched and helpless, and you didn’t care anymore if anyone heard.

You were sobbing into his shirt, breath hitching uncontrollably as the sounds swelled into a relentless cacophony.

And still, Bucky held you.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured again and again, his voice the only thing not swallowed by the chaos. “It’s alright. I’ve got you. Just hang on. Just hold onto me.”

And in the dark, with hell crashing against the walls around you, you did.

Your chest heaved in shallow bursts. The darkness felt thicker now—suffocating, alive. Each blow from outside rattled the walls and echoed through your bones like war drums. You couldn’t hear your own thoughts. Couldn’t think at all.

Your fingers clutched blindly at Bucky’s shirt, twisting the fabric so tight your knuckles ached, but it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t feel your hands. Couldn’t feel your face. The air wouldn’t stay in your lungs, too hot, too thin, too sharp.

“Hey…hey, Princess—”

His voice sounded far away like it was coming from underwater. You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your whole body had turned to ice and fire at once. You shook your head wildly, gasping now, sobs hitching through clenched teeth.

“Princess.” Bucky’s hands framed your face now, gentle but firm, thumbs brushing just below your eyes. “You’re panickin’. I need you to listen to me, alright?”

Another bang rocked the train, louder than before. You flinched violently, trying to curl in on yourself, but Bucky didn’t let you. He held you steady, close.

“Look at me.” His voice was still soft, but it cut through the noise. “I’m right here. You’re safe. Just breathe. Just breathe with me.”

You were shaking so hard now your teeth chattered. You couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t get enough air.

“In through your nose,” Bucky coached, his forehead pressing gently to yours, “out through your mouth. You don’t have to get it perfect. Just follow me.”

You tried.

Tried to match the rhythm of his voice, the slow inhale, the deliberate exhale. But your lungs wouldn’t cooperate. A strangled noise tore from your throat instead, a fresh wave of sobs threatening to overtake you.

“You’re okay,” he whispered again, voice unwavering even as the train screamed around you. “You’re right here with me. There’s nothin’ in this room ‘cept you and me. Hold onto that.”

You clung to his words, desperate.

And slowly, painfully, your breathing started to stutter into some kind of rhythm, still shaky, still uneven, but present. You could feel the heat of him against you, solid, real. His arms wrapped tighter around your back, his breath brushing your temple.

“That’s it. There you go. Just keep doing that. With me.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Your body jolted, instinct still screaming, but Bucky was already grounding you again. His hands rubbed slow circles down your back. One of them moved to rest over your chest, right above your racing heart, like he could steady it with his palm alone.

“You’re doin’ good. I’ve got you.”

The shrieking from outside started to change. The tempo of the blows against the train shifted, less frequent, less violent, like the worst of the swarm was beginning to pass. The wails of the passengers faded, tapering off into soft whimpers and whispered prayers.

It was still dark, but the sounds were thinning.

Your breath, still ragged, wasn’t choking you anymore.

You pressed your forehead to Bucky’s collarbone and let the tears come, quieter this time, not from panic but from sheer exhaustion. He didn’t say anything, just kept holding you, hand never stopping its soothing rhythm across your back.

Eventually, the last of the banging faded into the distance, swallowed by the speed of the train. A tense silence settled over the carriage, broken only by the muted sobs of a child somewhere and the faint clatter of wheels against rail.

And in the black stillness of that bunk, pressed close to Bucky’s chest, you finally breathed in fully and let it out in a slow, trembling sigh.

He didn’t say a word.

Just held you until sleep finally took you. 

—

You stirred slowly. Your cheek still pressed to the steady rise and fall of Bucky’s chest. His arm was heavy over your back, warm and protective, like it had stayed there all night. You breathed in, taking the scent of him.

You didn’t move. Didn’t want to. Not yet.

“Mornin’,” came his voice, rough with sleep. You felt the vibration of it beneath your ear.

You hummed back softly, not quite trusting your voice yet.

“You alright?” he asked.

You nodded, still tucked into his side. “Yeah… I think so.”

Your voice was quiet but true. You shifted a little, your hand brushing across his ribs, and tilted your head just enough to glance up at him.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

He gave a lazy smile, one corner of his mouth pulling up in that charming, crooked way of his.

“We’re close to Norcross now,” he said, brushing your hair back from your face. “Train’s slowin’ already. You slept right through the breakfast call.”

You blinked, surprised. “I did?”

“Like the dead.” He grinned. “Figured you needed it.”

“I must’ve…” You hesitated, glancing around the bunk before finally, reluctantly, beginning to peel yourself away from him. Your limbs were stiff with sleep and the lingering tension of last night, but the moment was already slipping from you. Duty waited beyond the window.

Still, you paused.

Hovering just above him.

He looked up at you with those steel-blue eyes, unreadable as ever, though the corners had softened.

You leaned down and pressed your lips to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you said again, with a faint smile this time.

He made a pleased sound, something deep and amused in his chest, and before you could shift away completely, his hand caught your waist.

“Not done,” he muttered.

And with that, he pulled you back in. His other hand came to the side of your face, and he kissed you—properly, this time. No hesitation. Just the soft crush of his mouth against yours, the warmth of his palm, the rough edge of stubble beneath your fingertips. You melted into it, your hand curling into the fabric of his shirt as the train swayed gently beneath you.

A knock at the door startled you both, you jerked back slightly as it slid open with a clatter.

“Passengers, we’re making our final approach to Norc—”

Bucky didn’t even look.

He reached out with one hand and slammed the door shut again.

A stunned silence followed outside the compartment, but Bucky was already turning back to you, eyes glinting with mischief as you giggled in disbelief.

“Now, where were we?” he murmured, hand sliding to the small of your back as he tugged you in again.

[ridleymocki]

(seeing so many bad faith interpretations of the argument, y'all are really going to make me do this, okay HERE WE GO)

.................................

What Ed says: "I think last night was a mistake. I'm not ready for... Whatever this is."

What Ed means: "I didn't want last night to happen so soon or under those circumstances. Things are changing rapidly, which makes me feel out of control and scared."

What Stede hears: "I regret sleeping with you. I don't want the sort of relationship that you're after."

.................................

What Stede says: "It was a fine fish. It was... whatever. I was just trying to make you feel good!"

What Stede means: "I only cared about the fish because you cared about it, and I care about you. I liked the fish because it made you happy. Ordinarily, I'm ambivalent about fish."

What Ed hears: "I lied to you. I didn't care about your achievement I was just placating you to get what I wanted."

.................................

What Ed says: "Here's the news: I'm leaving. I got a job on a little fishing boat and I'm leaving. I'm a fisherman now."

What Ed means: "I think I need to be away from you to figure out who I am, because I haven't been able to do that while we're together, and your lifestyle now is the life I'm trying to leave behind."

What Stede hears: "I've made a decision to leave you and have a life without you. I don't value what we have enough to work with you to find a solution, I'd prefer to end it."

.................................

What Stede says: "Oh, Ed. Seriously? You're not a fisherman."

What Stede means: "I think you're using this plan to escape and avoid your problems. It sounds like you're pretending to be someone else. It seems to me like an impulsive decision and I am concerned."

What Ed hears: "I don't support this ambition. I think you're incapable. I don't think you can be different from what you have always been."

.................................

This is the kind of analysis done in therapeutic environments. When I put what they mean, it's not just a rephrasing but a boiling down to the core issue. I could go on to the rest of the dialogue but do you see the continuing ship-in-the-night miscommunication?? It's tripartite:

failing to express one's current emotional reality with the most accurate and clear language, often because that reality is not fully understood to oneself,

misinterpreting the other's language, due to preexisting sensitivities and defensiveness about one's own understanding of the situation,

increasing frustration and sense of personal attack that results from those misinterpretations, which perpetuates and worsens the poor communication.

Importantly, this kind of pattern means you miss the best and most important kernels of communication in an exchange because you're reacting to the more inflammatory parts.

Stede: "This can be whatever we want it to be." (I am willing to make changes to our arrangement so that you're happy). Ed: "I don't even know who I am! Alright? I know I don't want to be a pirate. And you, you're blowing up, you're the toast of the town." (I think we want different things. You're just starting a journey that I've already finished).

With those two bits alone they could've sorted this out. The first is the answer to the second. But they didn't -- couldn't -- latch onto it because all their other baggage was getting in the way.

And I'm being proven correct that this is what is happening, because I have seen next to nothing on here about the above two lines, only reactionary takes of fans also focusing on the inflammatory parts because of their predispositions. You're doing an encore performance of what they're doing.

Point being, there are no bad guys in this scene, just repeated system failure!

[obscure-imagines]

wet dreams - Zoro

🍃staring. Zoro Roronoa x afab!Reader

⚔️ preview. The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, wet dreams, hand job, blow job, dirty talk, praise, exhibitionism (sex outside in the Crowsnest), cum play/swallowing, fingering, mutual masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, big dick zoro, fingering, overstim, mutual orgasm, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.

🔫 rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I wc. 3.7k

⚔️ aus. One Piece Live Action, pwp, acquaintances to lovers, etc…

🍀 mlist + an. I showed Sanji and Mihawk some love so I figured I might as well adore my big three and make it a full set with Zoro.

Zoro is exhausted. His body feels heavy as he lumbers around the ship, his footfalls a little too loud on the wooden deck. His eyes are practically shutting on their own, but he resists the need to nap.

He's been having problems lately... when he sleeps.

While he's able to keep himself mostly in check around you during his waking hours, his mind - and body - have been betraying him in dreamland.

He's woken up five nights this week with the soft sounds of your moans etched into his memory and his pants ruined with the sticky truth about his feelings for you.

Naps had once been a time of rest, but Zoro has been anything but restful since Luffy convinced you to join the crew two weeks ago.

Zoro hates feeling like he's not in control. He hates the way you seem so real in his mind's eye, only for him to wake up and watch you acting completely indifferently toward him- as if he didn't just watch you go down on his cock in explicit detail- as if he didn't just try to fuck you so hard you couldn't even walk-

Being around you is something like torture. His tongue gets tied, his heart races, and he's unable to hold a conversation with you about anything unrelated to piracy... and even then, he stumbles over his words and gets frustrated with himself.

You're just too beautiful.

The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.

He does his best to be the last to go to bed, out of fear that someone will walk in while he's sleeping and hear his problem, hell, he wouldn't be shocked if they could even see it.

It's not even midday and Zoro feels like death. It doesn't help that it's hot out. The wind feels practically nonexistent. Everything is stale, sweaty, and full of tension. Even Sanji, who usually dresses in formalwear, has stripped himself of his button-up, opting for an undershirt instead.

Then there's you. Your shorts don't leave much to the imagination, and Zoro has to tear his gaze off of you every time you get within his line of sight. His cock is practically throbbing in his pants anytime you're nearby- anytime your soft scent lingers in the air when you walk past.

"You look like shit."

Zoro sighs at Sanji's words, refusing to look at the chef who's come to lean on the rail next to him, staring out at the sea.

"I mean it. And I'm not trying to be a dick, but seriously moss head, you look like you need some rest," Sanji presses on. "When was the last time you had one of your famous Roronoa naps?"

"I wasn't aware they were famous," Zoro sighs, this conversation is making him even more tired.

"We all know you get a little scratchy without your beauty sleep," Sanji smirks. "Go on, get some rest. It's a shit day, and it will be even more shit if you're in a bad mood. I'll wake you up for dinner."

Usually, Zoro wouldn't do anything Sanji suggests, he wouldn't even entertain it- but the idea of a nap is having a visceral effect on him. He's reminded of the exhaustion that's overtaken him, and the harsh sun is only making things worse.

Zoro lets out a deep breath. "I guess I could use a little shut-eye."

You let out a loud whimper as Zoro drags his tongue across your neck, holding you close on the deck of the ship. Above, the stars are twinkling, but to the swordsman, all that matters is you. He can hardly see anything else, his mind completely blank except for the feeling of your hand stroking his cock.

"I need more," you tell him, applying just the right amount of pressure.

He's tried dissuading you from sucking his cock, but you're absolutely insatiable for him. Stroking isn't enough, and the promise of filling you up all nice and snug doesn't satisfy you either- no, you want him in your mouth, and you're very verbal about it.

Who is Zoro to deny you?

With a sigh, he agrees, and you sink to your knees immediately.

God, you look beautiful like this.

Your thumb strokes the head of his cock, rubbing through precum as you bring your mouth closer.

You're always a bit of a tease, licking at him gently, pumping his shaft. Zoro can't help but release a small groan, eyes fixed on you, waiting.

When you finally take him into your mouth, Zoro moans, his head lolling back as he enjoys the feeling.

"That's it, angel," he tells you, reaching down to grab at your head, helping you find a rhythm. "Just like that."

You take him so deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat much too easily. The feeling of you choking around him has Zoro's abdomen clenching, and a familiar sensation is growing in his balls-

It's as if you can read his mind, your hand snaking up to massage his most sensitive area while you continue practically gagging yourself on his cock.

The sound is absolutely obscene, and Zoro's never heard anything so pretty.

"If you keep sucking like that, I'm going to cum," he warns you, wanting to hold out to finish in your perfect, needy little cunt-

The way you suck on him even harder makes Zoro think you want him to cum. You want him to release down your throat, want to swallow him up like the good girl you are.

Again, who is Zoro to deny you?

"Fuck, angel," he groans, orgasm rising even faster. "You're always so good for me."

You whimper loudly around his cock, stroking your tongue along the vein that runs the underside of his length while squeezing his balls, and that's all it takes for him to cum.

He lets out a grunt as he shoots his load down your awaiting throat, his brows knitted together in concentration and something close to overstimulation. He whispers your name, over and over like a mantra while you suck him dry, eager for every single drop he can give- you're his greedy little angel, and he loves you with every fiber of his being.

You pull off of him when he's done, staring up at him with eyes that reflect the stars above. Then, you stick out your tongue, proving to him that you'd swallowed all he had to give.

Zoro can't help but reach for you, lifting you back onto your feet so he can grab your face and press his lips against yours eagerly.

He treasures the moments you're in his arms, and there's something so satisfying about the salty taste on your tongue-

"Dinner!"

Zoro sits up so fast he nearly falls out of his hammock. His heart is thundering in his chest, and when his eyes quickly dart to the door, he sees that Sanji hadn't bothered to enter, only called out a word of warning.

Swallowing thickly, Zoro looks down at his pants. He can feel his cum, hot and sticky against his skin, his half-chubbed length angrily confined by pants.

Zoro's not sure who's more upset about being woken up from his dream, himself, or his cock.

Luffy has already gone through half the food by the time Zoro saunters into the dining area. The swordsman's eyes are downcast while he takes a seat next to the captain, and you're kind of glad for that- you want to watch him, but you doubt you'd be able to make eye contact with him right now.

Your skin tingles with the forbidden knowledge that you now have. Your mind keeps replaying the scene you'd walked in on not half an hour ago; Zoro, asleep, his brows knitted together, your name on his lips.

You hadn't stayed long upon finding him in that state, your skin too hot with the realization of what you'd just witnessed, and now, that fevered sensation returns.

You've always had a bit of a crush on Zoro, but you'd never in your wildest dreams imagined that it could be returned. Out of everyone on the ship, Zoro interacts with you the least. He practically avoids you, and you've just spent two weeks thinking he doesn't even like you-

No, this changes everything.

The man with green hair lifts his gaze, and your eyes meet momentarily, only for you to look away, skin flaring again. Your heart is practically beating out of your ribcage, and you can feel your panties sticking uncomfortably to your core.

You'll have to do something about this. You're not sure what- but... you definitely can't go much longer with this kind of unresolved tension. One dinner with a dripping pussy is enough.

You decide you'll have to confront Zoro, and something tells you that you'll thank God for doing so.

Once everyone is asleep, you slowly tiptoe out of the sleeping quarters. Zoro has been staying up late, keeping watch in the Crowsnest, and you feel like that's a perfect place to talk with him. There's no way he can escape... unless he jumps into the ocean and risks his life- but you don't think it will come to that... or at least, you hope it doesn't.

Carefully climbing the ladder, you think of all the things you can say to him. You're not sure where to even begin, and as you make it to the top, poking your head through the manhole to stare at Zoro's broad shoulders, all the words you'd planned slip your mind.

He hasn't noticed you yet, and it takes closing the ladder cover for him to finally hear you, whipping around with his hand reaching for one of his blades.

Zoro freezes. You both do.

Then his hand drops to his side. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought..." you bite at your lip, "I thought you might want some company."

He gives you a quick once over, then turns to look out at the sea again. "I'm good."

"Why do you act like you hate me so much?" you sigh, ignoring his dismissal and moving to join him.

"I don't act like I hate you."

"You hardly talk to me."

"I'm not a big talker."

You let out another exasperated sigh. There's some truth in what he's just said. "Then I'll talk."

"Go ahead."

Staring out at the sea, you're once again at a loss for what to say. After a few moments of silence, you decide to just... put it all on the table. "I walked in while you were napping earlier."

Zoro goes rigid next to you.

"What were you dreaming about?"

He's quiet, then he turns to look at you. "Sword fighting."

"I didn't think you'd actually lie to me," you frown.

"Who says I'm lying?"

"I just- I don't think sword fighting would lead to you moaning my name over and over."

Zoro looks out at the sea again. "You must think I'm some kind of pervert."

"Trust me, I don't," you assure him. "I'm kind of curious about what we were doing in your dream."

He sneaks a glance at you, and there's a hint of a smile that curls onto his pretty lips. "Yeah?"

You nod. "Maybe... maybe I've been having 'sword fighting' dreams too. We could... compare notes, or something."

Zoro lets out a laugh, shaking his head. The chuckle dies down into a groan. "Fuck." He grips the railing tighter, taking a deep breath. "You really wanna know what we were doing in my dream?"

"Yes, please."

The swordsman turns to face you, crossing his arms over his chest. "You were down on your knees, sucking the fucking soul out of my cock."

If your panties hadn't been ruined at dinner, they're definitely ruined now. "I was?"

"Uh huh. You were begging for it. Begging for every last drop."

Your mouth practically waters at the idea. "And did you give it to me?"

"Of course I did," he says softly, scanning your face. "How could I not?"

"Should we..." Your skin heats at the words about to come out of your mouth, "Can we make that dream real?"

Zoro sucks in a shaky breath. "I think I have a better idea."

"A better idea than me sucking your cock?" You're shocked.

"You're always so good to me in my dreams, maybe I want to be good to you."

Your pussy throbs at the insinuation of what he's saying. Most men would jump at the chance to have your mouth around them, but it looks like tonight, the swordsman wants to be the one pleasuring you-

He's just like the Zoro from your wet dreams, and you have a suspicion that when it gets down to it, he'll be even better.

You can't help yourself any longer, you practically launch your body at him, throwing your arms around his strong shoulders while his hands catch you. Your lips meet as if it's the most natural thing in the world, a soft groan escaping him when you swipe your tongue across his mouth, already eager for entrance.

The kiss deepens, and his hands grip you tighter, pulling you flush to his chest. It feels absolutely insane to be actually doing this in your waking hours- nothing your mind could conjure up compares to the real Zoro-

You can feel his cock already pressing against your hip and it makes you whine loudly, shoving your hand between your bodies to cup him through his pants. He's as big as you imagined he would be, and your pussy flutters with interest.

"Zoro-" you whimper, already needing more.

You've been waiting too long for this, for him-

He groans. "Say that again."

One of his hands joins yours between your bodies, but his slips under the waistband of your shorts, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties.

"Fuck, angel, you're already soaked-"

"Zoro!" you moan, louder this time.

"Tell me you want my fingers."

"God, I need them," you gasp when he leans in, pressing kisses and tracing his tongue along your throat. "I need you inside of me- any of you, I just- I need you!"

"Good girl," he says smoothly, pushing your panties to the side.

His fingers make contact with your dripping cunt, and he teases your pussy lips, just dipping inside enough to coat his skin before he circles your clit.

You cry out, squeezing his cock harder-

"Enough of that," Zoro practically slaps your hand away from him. "Tonight is about you. Let it be about you."

"Fuck, you're too nice to me-"

"Trust me, you deserve it." His fingers sink into your pussy and you moan loudly, leaning forward to begin peppering his own throat in kisses. You thread your fingers through his hair, keeping him close as he begins pumping his digits in and out of your wet core.

You can already hear yourself- the sick squelching of your pussy as he works you open. His palm rubs against your clit, creating a delightful pressure that has your legs shaking and your toes curling.

"You sound so pretty."

Who knew he'd be such a sweet talker.

In the exhibitionistic privacy of the Crowsnest, with the crew sleeping soundly below, Zoro is showing you his true colors, and you couldn't be happier.

No one has touched you like this in too long- but then again, has anyone ever actually touched you like this?

You can't believe how close you already are to cumming. Your skin tingles and you moan louder against his neck, moving your mouth up to suckle on his earlobe.

Zoro groans, and the sound goes straight to your aching core.

"Close already?"

All you can manage is a nod, your eyes closing as you focus on the pleasure of his fingers pumping into your wet hole. "Please-"

"You can cum for me," he tells you. "I wanna hear it."

You can hardly even stand on your own. If it weren't for his strong form, steady under your grip, you're sure you'd be falling. His free palm is on the small of your back, keeping you snug to his front while his fingers work you closer and closer-

"Zoro," you whimper again, feeling tears in your eyes from how tight the coil in your stomach has grown.

"Be a good girl and let go for me. Come on, I know you can do it."

You let out a strangled half sob as your high slams into you. Your entire body tingles with electric energy as your core clamps onto his fingers, which continue inside of you, working you through your orgasm. You shake against him, digging your nails into his shoulders while you whimper and moan, lips pressed to his throat.

"That's it," he praises you, a steady guide through one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

You nearly black out, only for his fingers to slow inside of you, drawing you back into your body. Zoro removes his hand from your pants, and you listen to him suck his digits clean, letting out a small groan at your taste.

"Can I lay you down?" he asks next, tone gentle.

You nod, unable to speak. Zoro softly helps you onto the wooden floor of the small Crowsnest, staring at you with dark eyes that seem to sparkle in the moonlight.

He slowly undresses you, watching as you lift your hips to help him remove your shorts. Your shirt and bra are next, and he's careful to set them nearby before removing his own clothing.

"You still want to do this?" he asks.

"There's nothing I want more."

Once he's naked, Zoro gets between your thighs, holding himself over you while you wrap your legs around his hips. You grab at his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.

His hard cock is too enticing for you not to touch, and soon, you're gripping it while your tongues battle. His moans are music to your ears, and you swipe your thumb over the head of his length to smear his skin with precum.

"You know-" he swallows thickly. "After today, after watching you cum on my fingers, I might not last that long."

"That's okay, I won't last long either." Your pussy is already aching for him again, and from the way his cock twitches in your hand, you know he's as into this as you are. "Just fuck me Zoro, please."

He kisses you deeply, allowing you to guide him to your wet hole.

He's big, but you're soaked, and slipping into you is much too easy. He sinks all the way in, his hips flush to yours when he bottoms out. You moan into each other's mouths, and you grab his face, wanting to keep his lips on yours as he begins to thrust into you.

"Fuck, Zoro, it's so good-" you whimper, pussy clenching tightly around him to earn another sound of appreciation.

"Angel, you're fucking perfect," he agrees, pace already quickening.

The sound of skin on skin fills the night air. You open your eyes, looking up at the moon and stars. It feels natural to be with him like this, under the watchful eye of the heavens-

Your nails dig into his shoulders when his hand adjusts your thigh on his hip. He drives deeper into your wet hole, and each thrust has your head spinning.

You can feel him everywhere, and it's the first time you've ever really felt full, complete.

"Zoro," you whisper, gaining his attention as you draw his lips back to your own.

You get lost in him. His cock is filling you perfectly, and his lips feel like they were made to be on your own.

That familiar tightening in your lower abdomen builds much too fast, and each thrust has Zoro grunting and moaning even louder-

"Fuck, angel, I'm close-"

"Me too," you assure him, pressing your forehead to his own and staring into his eyes. "You'll cum with me, right?"

He can only nod as you slip your hand between your bodies, fingers rubbing your sensitive clit-

Your core tightens even more around his thick length and Zoro lets out a deep moan-

"Shit," he mutters, "where should I cum?"

"Inside," you insist. "Cum inside, I'm on birth control, please, I want it, I need it-"

Zoro's hand balls into a fist on the wooden plank by your head, and he groans. "Can't wait-"

"Me neither," you whisper, eyes closing as the feeling ravages your body, "Cumming-"

Zoro buries his face against your throat as you both reach your highs. You can feel him painting your inner walls, making you even more full than you already are with his cock- it's the most delightful feeling.

Your toes curl as he fucks you through it all, his pace even harder than before, if not a bit erratic. The sounds he's making will be something you never forget, and you cling to him like a lifeline, tracing his muscular shoulders and gasping-

It's as if your orgasm lasts ages, and when Zoro's motions finally begin to slow, it's hard to even catch your breath.

He begins to press kisses along your throat again, working his way to your ear, and then your mouth.

You can't help but grin into each soft press of his lips against your own.

"You look happy," he muses.

"That's because I am. Are you happy?"

"Very."

Your smile widens. "So we're done not talking and pretending to be indifferent to each other, right?"

"Completely done."

"Good, because I don't think I could go back to that."

"Me neither," he admits.

"I like you a lot."

Zoro presses another soft kiss to your lips, his pretty eyes twinkling with emotion in a way you've never seen from the swordsman. "I like you too."

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you liked this, check out my fics for Sanji and Mihawk :)

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[bitternanami]

something i think is really interesting about dungeon meshi is the cast's respective views on food as the story progresses. the way many adventurers get through the dungeon is to eat when they Must, but mostly rely on healing magic to keep going when they're tired or beaten down. death is something you can buy your way out of, here.

having these lower stakes when it comes to running yourself too hard has made a lot of people in this setting kind of devalue food and what it does for you.

im not all the way through the manga yet, but so far i really like how it goes about debunking that mindset.

long post under the cut, cw explicit discussion of disordered eating. textual depiction of unhealthy methods of dealing with it. please be cautious!

it seems like to most folks, food is either a decadent luxury, like when the governor offers mr tance a feast as a show of power and wealth, (although he is the only one who actually eats in that scene as he talks about his ambitions);

[id: the governor and mr. tance talk politics and hierarchies, while the governor eats from a bowl. mr. tance's meal is not visible behind a speech bubble.

"so you believe the sorceror is an elf?" he asks.

"i can't say with absolute certainty," mr. tance replies, "but the spells are not ones dwarves and humans typically use." /end id]

like the painted-royal feasts laios tries to partake in that never actually nourish him...

[id: laios, fresh out of the living painting feast, surprisedly holding his grumbling stomach /end id]

or, to the working class, it's pretty much exclusively fuel. i'm thinking about the scene where kabru's party, ostensibly intended to be our view into how adventuring Typically goes for most people, is shown preparing to go to the dungeon by like. walking up to someone and ordering 'a weeks' worth of rations.' purely functional.

[id: kabru enters a store, and the merchant says "welcome!"

kabru says "i need a week's worth of rations for six, and two days' worth of water."

"sure thing." the merchant then reaches behind him and grabs a large cube-shaped package, wrapped in nondescript cloth and tied in place. it thumps onto the counter in front of them both. /end id]

when kabru hands mickbell his food for the trip, he complains about how heavy it is on his back. it's a necessary liability.

we also see chilchuck, in an early chapter where there isn't much food to go around, grumbling about how he used to be better at not noticing when he was hungry. he's frustrated that he's more attuned to his bodily needs, now that he's starting to fill them with regularity.

[id: chilchuck, the only one awake, sits in his bedroll and glares at the timekeeping-candle burning down in front of him while he listens to his stomach growl. moving to find his canteen and fill himself with water instead, he thinks to himself, "my stomach has gotten weaker. i used to be able to go two days without food." /end id]

(like im not even gonna lie this is a big mood. the healing process is really really annoying)

even laios, early on, working out the logistics of going back for falin, considers his expenses and ultimately the thing he decides to save money on is their food supply. like, even the guy most invested in eating as an experience kind of just assumes he will Figure It Out. its what hes eating, not how hes eating it that matters to him at that point.

[id: marcille looks down at the ingredients they've gathered, the walking mushroom and the scorpion in an unappetizing heap on the ground, and asks laios "so how exactly do we eat them?"

he responds "let's just cook them, like normal." /end id]

but its here that senshi introduces the idea of food as art and as healing. its exciting and its fascinating for laios, getting to taste the creatures hes been reading about and fighting, but i dont think it would ever really help him feel full if not for this.

[id: three panels of laios tasting the scorpion hotpot, looking stunned, and then excitedly telling senshi "delicious!"

senshi matches his energy, asking "isn't it? isn't it?" /end id]

pictured: guy who had resigned himself to kind of just doing his best rediscovers the joy in something tasting really fucking good

what they did last time isnt going to work. falin is gone, and constantly anesthetizing their pain and healing through their weakness is no longer a realistic option for the party. in order to make it through they must all relearn how to eat well, one by one and as a group over and over again, because its either that or nothing.

one of my favorite depictions of this idea thus far is when marcille is seriously low on health and mana, and both of these problems are mitigated by taking care of herself, and trying to get iron and protein

[id: marcille, looking sickly, wakes to laios saying, "marcille, marcille, can you sit up? we've got something nice for you."

she watches senshi grill pieces of kelpie liver on a low fire, while laios ties a bib around her neck. /end id]

and drinking a bunch of dead water spirits. she gets the idea, she's supposed to get in nutrients and it'll help her feel better, but in aiming for the quick, inefficient fix, namely chugging that shit down like she heard it was good to Stay Hydrated and decided that would be the thing that fixes her,

[id: marcille throws back a cup of boiled undine-water, her face red. laios asks, "do you really need to drink it that fast?"

she gasps out "...the magical energy stored in nature spirits is actually quite hard to absorb. even if you drink a lot, the majority of it is excreted without being absorbed," and takes another drink. "that's why i need to drink as much as i can."

laios says weakly "you'll get water poisoning," but marcille only stops when senshi puts a hand on her shoulder and says,

"it's easier to absorb nutrients if ye digest them with food. that's a fundamental rule of nutrition."

marcille says, "senshi..." contemplative

and he holds out a bowl of tentuclus and a thumbs up. "let's get cooking!" /end id]

she doesn't immediately realize the answer is that she needs more than that. she's been working hard. she needs care, and she needs nourishment.

once she gets that, though, she makes her boiled water into a stew, and she works to make that stew as good as she can, and everyone can have some.

because in dungeon meshi, to feed yourself or allow yourself to be fed is treated as performing a kindness for yourself. food is what propels you, but there is also an art and a joy inherent to the process of making it; in the way you feel when you've had enough to eat.

[id: senshi watches as chilchuck and marcille eat and excitedly hash out plans.

"i've got a good feeling about this! maybe it'll work out!" chilchuck says

marcille responds, "well it's easier to feel optimistic on a full stomach!"

senshi smiles, proud. /end id]

^^^ i want to put this image on my wall

when you're working through disordered eating habits, you really do have to keep learning this shit. (in my experience, learning about cooking is one of the best ways to do so.)

i'll have to see if my thesis holds up as i continue, but i think one of the reasons the portrayal here resonates with me so hard is that ryoko kui puts most of her characters at eye level with me on this. they're all working at it, too. the text and i are both commiserating, and encouraging each other, 'have some more, you'll feel better.'

[brainwormcity]

I've seen people remark on how awkward the 1967 scene is and that is so frustrating because, for me, it is one of the most emotionally resonant flashbacks in the entire series. It is so multifaceted and ripe with implication and that assertion is baffling. As though just because this conversation appears to be hard for them, it must mean that there has to be some sense of weirdness or awkwardness between them?

This scene feeds heavily into my theory that 1941 ended in some sort of aborted romantic moment between the two, most likely initiated by Crowley. Aziraphale can barely stand to look at Crowley because the very first moment he looks him in the face, he can't stop himself from giving him this hooded eyes, barely contained look of longing.

The next thing we see is Aziraphale immediately launching into a statement about his fear for Crowley's existence that is as brutally sincere as it is heartrending. His eyes are wide, his voice is heavy with emotion, and it's clear that he is terrified beyond belief to lose Crowley. Even as he acquiesces and gives him the holy water, you can see that he wants to take it back and deny him it all over again.

Then, of course, Crowley asks if he can give him a lift, which is definitely something that they both know is a totally different question than what lies on the surface, given that they're mere feet from the bookshop and at first Crowley frowns so deeply that it's almost cartoonish but a moment after Aziraphale turns him down you get this glimpse of very real sadness:

Aziraphale sees it for what it is and in an attempt to comfort him, without being able to do what currently seems impossible to him, shares a fanciful but resigned fantasy about spending time together unbothered and unrestrained, all to the tune of these tight little, loving smiles:

When he asks again, you can just see Crowley's desperation for Aziraphale not to go. It's hard to say how long they'd been apart, but it's safe to say that for them, that previous interaction likely is very fresh in their minds.

Aziraphale has always been more fearful than Crowley when it comes to their feelings for each other. You could even potentially look at the holy water as a metaphor for their relationship. In his expressions of concern about The Arrangement, Aziraphale has always been remarking on how Crowley could be destroyed, similarly to his words here. So when he's telling him, "You go too fast for me, Crowley," what he's really saying is, "I'm terribly afraid and I'm not ready to take that step if it means that I could lose you." And it's plain to see by the wistful look on his face that it pains him greatly to say it:

The scene so quickly cuts to Crowley looking intensely at the holy water after Aziraphale has left the car (as if trying to convince you that that was the real point of the scene) that it's easy to miss this devastated expression on Crowley's face:

There's no look of perceived rejection on his face. Just a somber look of resignation. There are so many barriers in front of them, and I think that Crowley was willing to risk it but understood that Aziraphale wasn't ready to.

This is the most honest and laid bare we ever see these two be when it comes to their emotions. There's so much being said without being said and even their actual words (i.e. Crowley remembering exactly the amount of time when the 'fraternizing' conversation happened) are so full of emotion that it might even be a bit hard for some people to watch.

It's not awkward. It's just that the scene is just so incredibly earnest and heavy with coded language that it's easy to be swept up by the fact that the two aren't engaged in their typical banter and bickering. What we truly have here is an incredibly difficult and loving conversation between two people who are stuck in a seemingly impossible situation.

[himasgod]

Kinich x Reader

Where he realizes that you are more valuable to him than the Mora

(0.6k words. I hadn't dared to write about Kinich, but after reading his story and playing with him, I felt like it! Remember that I appreciate every comment, like or repost, they make my day! Also, I accept requests! Enjoy <3)

The air in the mountains of Natlan was harsh and wild, like Kinich. The silence between the two of you, after weeks of roaming those inhospitable places, had become almost comfortable. You both knew the other was there without the need for words, but that day something was different. The tension was felt in every step, in the way his hands tightened the straps of his equipment.

"Why do you always accept the most dangerous missions?" You dared to ask as you followed his determined walk. Kinich, with his gaze fixed on the horizon, did not answer you right away. You usually received direct, raw answers, but this time it seemed that he was meditating on the words.

"Because it is what will bring me more Moras." His answer finally came, as simple as you had imagined.

You stopped, feeling a lump in your chest. Of course, he always talked about Moras, about the tangible rewards he longed for. It was his way of seeing the world, of understanding value. But you knew there was more behind those words. The Kinich you knew, though sometimes cold and calculating, had shown himself to have a much deeper spirit, one that perhaps he himself did not fully understand.

“Is that all that matters? The Mora?” You tried to keep your voice calm, but you couldn’t stop a hint of frustration from creeping in.

He stopped as well, his green eyes meeting yours. A spark of something indecipherable crossed his gaze before his expression returned to that familiar hardness. “What else should matter? We are not born heroes, and no one gives anything in return for nothing.”

You moved closer to him, each step driven by a mix of need and curiosity. He had been by your side in battles, had saved you more times than you could count, but you had never been able to fully decipher what drove him beyond that desire for material rewards. You were so close that you could see the tension in his jaw, the slight flicker in his eyes as he lowered them, perhaps avoiding your scrutiny.

“And me?” you asked quietly, your heart pounding. You weren’t just an adventure partner to him, and you both knew it. But sometimes, Kinich kept you at a distance, as if the price of letting someone get close was too high, even for him.

Kinich raised his head, surprised. For a few seconds, his usual composure seemed to waver, but he quickly regained it. He took a step toward you, his presence as strong and overwhelming as ever, and held your gaze intently. “You’re not a transaction,” he murmured. “You’re…” He swallowed, as if the words were a heavy weight to bear. “You’re important.”

The confession hit you hard, harder than you’d expected. In his own world of Moras, bounties, and contracts, you had found a special place. You weren't just another job, you weren't a goal to be fulfilled. You had gone from being a simple spectator in his life to becoming someone who could break through his defenses, even if it was just for a moment.

"Does that mean you're staying by my side for more than Moras?" You gave him a half-smile, one that Kinich only reserved for you in special moments.

He didn't respond immediately, but instead of words, he let his actions speak for him. With a calculated and agile movement, like the hunter he was, he enveloped you in an unexpected, but firm hug. It wasn't soft or delicate, but it was real. Like everything Kinich did.

"I'm staying because you're someone worth fighting for," he whispered, his voice rough but sincere.

You felt the warmth of his body next to yours, the weight of everything unsaid between the two of you. In the silence of the mountains, you knew that the future of both of you was far from easy, full of challenges and dangers. But at that moment, it didn't matter.

You were with Kinich, and for him, that was more valuable than any reward.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[remina-mina]

Twst Yuu Theory: Magic as Desire

We got a lot of information from the chapter 12 update so I feel like we can finally have a grasp on Yuu and their future role in the story. Honestly this is practically a crack theory but I feel like there is something there. So throughout the story we have had glimpses of Yuu's insecurities, especially in Book 6 when we lost Grim and couldn't help Ace or Deuce in battle. Its been established that Yuu sees themself as useless and powerless and feels frustration at the fact that they cannot do anything but be protected in battle.

This comes up again in this update but I think its on purpose that Yuu's frustration at being useless mirrors Ace's and the other freshman before they unlock their unique magic. It feels like Twst is creating these parallels on purpose to lay the groundwork for Yuu to have an important role as a 'trump card' in the future (book 8 maybe) just like Deuce was in Book 5 and Ace in this update.

I'm hesitate to say something wild like Yuu will develop a unique magic, however I do think that Yuu will have a role that only they can fulfill possibly because they don't have magic.

Or maybe they will temporarily gain the ability to use magic because as established in this chapter update magic in its ancient form was miracles born out of people's deep desires such as wishing to fly or heal. Following that logic then maybe Yuu will be able to harness the oldest and original form of magic simply through their deep desires.

Also in the Chapter 12 update Leona offhandedly mentions that the dark mirror's criteria for choosing mages is vague but without a doubt everyone chosen to go to NRC has what it takes to make their mark on history. All these lore drops makes me sure that something will be happening sooner or later.

Honestly I hope in Book 8 (if that really does end up existing someplace that isn't my hopes and dreams) we explore Ramshackle's history because it seems special that the dorm has strong ties to other worlds. Considering that they straight up have a mirror that connects to other worlds where we see Mickey and whenever we get snippits of the old disney movies it also is through that mirror it feels important. Maybe we will learn about Skully and how he possibly was a Ramshackle student in his time at NRC.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Can't Have One Without the Other 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, marital troubles, body insecurity, abuse/violence, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your marriage is on the rocks.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky sets you up on the couch. It feels intentional. You'd rather be in bed, alone. You're not just hurt, you're embarrassed.

You warned him over and over. You're out of practice; out of shape; out of everything. 

You sigh. Just the deep breath makes your back tweak. It's just another wall to your prison.

When did you start thinking about this? Maybe the months you spent alone here... Did anyone check in? Steve's wife now and then but she's young and naive and it only reminds you of how bitter you've grown.

"Found it," Bucky startles you as he struts in. He's in sweats and a take, his hair slick from a shower. You smell his body soap wafting in the air.

"Found... what?" You ask, only just able to see him over the armrest.

"Body oil," he wiggles a bittle at you. "When's the last time we had fun with this?"

Frustration swells in your chest. What the hell? That shower must have been a full reset. He didn't say a word on the way home. You didn't either. Now it's like everything is daisies.

"Fun?" You mutter.

"Doc says a massage. You pulled a muscle." He nears and puts the oil on the end table. "Mm, you know I got good hands."

You look at him. Is he try to fix this or forget this?

He bends to nudge your side, "shimmy over."

You can't move much. He helps you turn so you're facing the backrest and he sits on the edge of the cushions. He pushes your shirt up and tugs until you whimper and lift your arms. You twist around to free yourself.

He reaches over you and snatches the bottle. The click of the cap makes you flinch. He smears the oil over your back as you shield your chest. The coolness of the liquid makes you tense.

You're quiet as he traces his thumbs along your flesh. His touch is firm but soothing. You groan and close your eyes.

He works your neck and shoulders before moving down to your ribs where the muscle tremors. He pushes into it and you whine. He tuts.

"Gonna hurt a bit 'til I loosen it up."

You can't speak. You merely wiggle your head in acquiescence. Something about this is disarming. It's like he's reclaiming you. A reminder of his strength. He has you in the palm of his hands, almost literally. 

His hand slides up to your side and toward your hip. He squeezes and you grit your teeth. He fingers curl around to your stomach. You stop him.

"Gonna work on it," you say. "No more fast food."

"Does that mean the rest of the snack cakes are up for grabs?" He teases. He found your stash when he tore your dresser apart.

"In the cupboard now," you assure him. Can you help that you missed him? That you just wanted some comfort?

"It doesn't bother me, baby. More of you to love."

"It bothers me," you snap. "Alright? And... and..." you grunt and roll onto your back. "And you don't seem to care what bothers me."

"You're going to get oil on the couch--"

"Bucky. I didn't ask you to..." you huff and push yourself up, scowling at the effort. You keep an arm across your chest. 

"I'm helping," he argues.

"I know you're trying to but I need-- I need space."

"I'm here. Trying to listen like you want--"

You close your eyes, exasperated. 

"Yeah, well," you flick your lashes open, "I don't really know what to say anymore."

His expression darkens. He stares at you. A shiver ripples over you. You gulp and reach for your shirt. He gets it first.

"You're setting me up. You want me to fail." He accuses. "You're trying to make me the bad guy--" he stops as he twists your shirt, "because you did something...."

"Did something... Bucky I waited for you--"

He startles you as suddenly he swoops the shirt around your neck. He twists the ends together until it's taut around your throat. He keeps the fabric in his metal fist and jerks you. You gasp at the pang it sends down your spine.

You grab onto his hand as your face contorts in horror. "Bucky, you know--"

"Do I know you anymore? I come home and you're cold. All I did was my job. Went out to make the money to support your fucking doodles--"

You slap him. You choke on his name as his reels back and keeps a hold of you. His lip curls and his eyes dialate.

He stands and rips you off the couch. He slams you to the ground with the snare around your neck. He puts you on your stomach and straddles you as you whimper and writhe.

"You think you can win this?" He sneers as he bends over you, hot breath searing over your scalp.

"Bucky--" you clutch the cotton as it tightens. "Why--" your eyes speckle with tears. "What happened to you?"

"Ask yourself that," he snarls and twists the shirt until you can't speak. "Maybe I just want a little bit of respect from my fucking wife."

You get your fingers under the shirt and wheeze. "Then why don't you act like my husband! "Why didn't you answer me for a whole month?"

"This again," he growls and jerks the shirt.

You cough and reach out, desperate to drag yourself away. You know it's hopeless. When you married him, you never thought he'd use his strength on you. Not like this.

He lens forward and grabs your hand. "You always had more time for those drawings than me. I never said a damn word." He grips your middle finger and you freeze. The tension in your joint is electric. "You need to figure out what's important." He wrenches your finger back and your knuckle pops. The pain makes you shriek. "It isn't the doodle." He grips your index next and bends it back. You wail again, blinded in agony. "You'll see who takes care of you when you got nothing else."

[lllivia]

I could help you

Ellie Williams x f!reader

Summary: Ellie helps you out 😛

Warnings: smut, non apocalyptic scenario, cocky (slightly loser) Ellie, top!Ellie, bottom!reader, frustrated!reader, NOT proofread

It had only gone four out of the six weeks the doctor had ordered for you to have your cast on - and you were already feeling like you were about to rip it off with your bare hands (which of course was impossible). What luck was it that the one fucking time you felt like skating without a helmet, you had skidded over some tiny little pebble and in an attempt to break your fall - breaking your wrist instead.

It was so hard to do quite literally anything when your dominant hand was all bandaged up, but by far one of the worst things was the masturbation. God, it was so frustrating, it seemed like any little thing could set you off at this point after going so long without a release.

You had tried getting off of course, but it only ended up hurting you more than it giving any sort of measurable pleasure, which only built up the sexual frustration that was at this point running 24/7 through your veins.

-

"Soo what d'you wanna do now?" Ellie smirked up at you from where she sat on the floor, just having beaten you for like the 7th time in the row in street fighter - which she claimed was all because of her pure "talent"x and not because you had a useless hand that couldn't help you make any proper combos.

"I don't know - you tell me, it's not much I can do with this fucked up wrist that doesn't cause me any pain" you sighed and layed back down onto your bed, pissed that the broken bone once again came in your way of doing anything fun.

"Alright.. How about we play some truth or dare?" She chuckled, standing up to sit next to where you lay, immediately getting comfy on the familiar blankets.

"What are you, ten?" You couldn't help but laugh - you hadn't played truth or dare since like early high school. But Ellie only raised her eyebrow at you "Have any better idea ms. "I can't think of anything to do"?"

And ig she was right, there really wasn't anything. "Okay okay you got me" You smiled, never able to resist your best friends pretty face.

"I'll get you to spill all of your deepest and darkest secrets" she wiggled her eyebrows ridiculously as if you didn't already tell eachother basically anything. "So, truth or dare."

You thought for a second - she wouldn't make you do something really stupid, would she?who we're you kidding, she totally would.

"Truth I guess" you answered hesitantly, slightly nervous about what she might ask.

"Umm when was the last time you finished a book" she asked, clearly not having thought as far as to get to the questions.

"Seriously dumbass, you don't have anything better than that?" You laughed and slapped her knee, unbeknownst to you making her grin just with your closeness. "Your turn then.. Truth or dare?"

She shrugged "Dare, obviously. I'm not a wimp" her smirk showing off her white teeth as you playfully hit her again.

"Fine, you have to text the last person you ghosted and tell them you need them" It was your turn to smirk as Ellie's face dropped, both of you knowing exactly who she had to text.

"You asshole! You know it was Dina, I can't just message her now after like 4 months" Ellie grimaced, the memory of when she suddenly stopped texting the girl back now fresh in her mind.

"I didn't say I would play fair" the laugh escaping you sounded down right sinister as you watched the brunette pick up her phone and send the text before slamming it down again on your mattress.

"Your turn, and don't even think I'm gonna play nice now" she had moved closer in the excitement, your bodies almost pressing against each other - which neither of you felt like commenting on. Not wanting to ruin the chance of being so close.

Worried she was going to make you do something absolutely humiliating you couldn't help with going for what you thought was the easy way out again. But oh my were you wrong. "Truth."

"Are you fucking kidding me y/n! You're such a pussy" Ellie groaned before widening her eyes at the perfect question.

"Well it's not in the rules that I can't choose truth two times in a row" you cheesed, pure smugness dripping off your tone.

"When's.. The last time you jacked off?" She smirked proudly, enjoying the embarrassment that quickly embraced your face.

"What the actual fuck Ellie, you creep!" You gaped, once again punching her leg.

"Ow - Well, you have to say it. It's the rules!" Your best friend laughed loudly while throwing her head back. She had for sure gotten the reaction she wanted after her last dare.

You thought about it for a moment before rolling your eyes "ok fine.. I guess about like 4 weeks ago" looking away your cheeks started burning hot, there was definitely some kind of unspoken boundary that just got crossed. "But it's only because of this stupid useless hand that I can't fucking get off!"

Well shit, you had definitely said too much now.

It was Ellie's time to gape now, her mind starting to race at the simple sentence.

All she could think of doing was licking her cracked lips and blushing before thinking of something to say. "I could.. Help you? Yk.. If you want."

You almost laughed straight in her face. There was no way she was being serious right now, what the hell did she mean by helping you?

"..What?" Your almost squeeky voice sounded out, unable to stop the warmth pooling into your lower belly at the situation that was happening right in front of you.

"I could get you off" her body was fully turned towards you now, she couldn't even believe herself for being so bold. God, she hoped this wouldn't ruin the perfect relationship you already had.

"Okay" you answered breathely, you legs unknowingly starting to rub against each other slightly - something that didn't go unnoticed by Ellie.

"Okay?" Waiting to confirm what she thought she just heard, she could almost feel herself twitching in anticipation.

"Okay" you laughed breathily, what was happening right now.

Ellie didn't waste any more time, and practically jumped your bones on the spot. She didn't waste any time on formalities and crawled down your body until she reached your pajama pants.

"You're so pretty" she looked up and smirked "but you'd be prettier without these" she plucked at the band of your pants before letting it snap back into place.

"You're so fucking corny" you rolled your eyes playfully, ignoring the fact that you were basically already dripping in arousal.

"Whatever you say" her eyes never leaving you as she slid the pants down your smooth skin, however many times she had seen you change could never compare with the feeling that embraced her now while actually being the one stripping you down.

All that was left on your lower body now was your underwear, which Ellie felt the strange want to rip off with her teeth - oh how many times she had imagined you under her like this. Restraining from the action she looked up at you once again as to double check that what she was doing was alright, before finally removing your panties in a haste.

She stopped to stare for a second, taking in your beauty in case this was the one and only time she would ever do this. "You're so pretty baby, might have to break your wrist more often" You rolled your eyes playfully - even when you were basically trying to hump her face and whimpering in need.

"C'mon Ellie - just fuck me already" you breathed as she took her time viewing and kissing your thighs.

"Alright alright, no need to beg baby. I'm right here, I'll help you."

And she finally did. Her tongue gleefully licking through your already soaked folds as she held you down while you writhed. "God, you taste so good" she moaned, using two fingers to rub up and down your pussy - enjoying the slick that quickly covered her digits.

But as much as she was enjoying the look of pure need and desperation in your eyes while she slowly teased you, she couldn't hold on for long before she pushed the two already lubed up fingers into you.

You immediately squeezed around her and gasped, fuck, no warning? But the slight sting from the stretch dissipated almost immediately as she started curling her fingers into you, her tongue simultaneously tracing figure 8s on your throbbing clit.

"S-shit Ellie!" Wow, you hadn't noticed how much you needed this until it was actually happening. And the fact that it was Ellie - your literal best friend and crush, that leading you towards your forthcoming orgasm was reeling you closer and closer to the edge faster than you had ever managed to do with your own fingers.

"Huh, you like that?" Her pace never slowed before she decided it was time to add a third finger, loving the feeling of you squeezing around her.

"Yes, yes! I needed this so bad" your high pitched voice sounded out while you painted for air, aggressively using your one good hand to grab onto Ellie's hair and pushing her closer to you - not even noticing as she whimpered slightly at the feeling.

"You gonna come? I mean shit, y/n, I can literally feel the way you're suffocating my fingers" She chuckled and sped up a bit as she talked.

"Mhm - yeah I'm gonna come" it seemed like the only thing in the world that was real was Ellie as she flicked her tongue one last teasing time against you.

A pleasure better than you'd ever felt crashed down all at once, almost drowning you. The warmth of Ellie's tongue never disappeared while your orgasm lasted, the girl on top of you never letting up until you were a twitching mess against her, weakly trying to push her away while whimpering lowly.

When you finally felt as though you could speak again you looked over at her already staring form, her face having a tiny blushing smile adorned all over it as she looked at you.

"Was that good?" Even after she had made you experience the most jaw dropping experience of your life she still had the nerve to ask such a stupid question.

"Yes dumbass, that was literally the best orgasm I've ever had" you grinned and layed back, closing your eyes - if you could just stay in this moment forever you would, resting as Ellie hummed and traced tiny hearts onto your bare stomach.

Well, that was so much better than playing some stupid video game.

-

a/n: I'm writing this at 1 in the morning so excuse if it's a bit wonky - ALSO SEND REQUESTS PLS, I'M OUT OF CREATIVITY 😪🙏

MAIN MASTERLIST

[clairebonnefoy]

Merlin and Arthur get trapped in a room and the only way to leave is if they tell the truth

Merlin pressed his palm into a brick and the wall opened, revealing a weirdly empty corridor. Merlin could feel the magic coming from there and knew they were close. But it wouldn’t be so easy; something was protecting it, he knew.

      Arthur started to walk carefully into the corridor, and Merlin noticed the stone walls would close just where he was. Without thinking twice, he jumped at Arthur, making them both fall into the corridor, just as the wall closed once again, looking like it had never been opened.

      “Are you all right?” He asked, worried.

      “I’m fine,” Arthur said, pushing Merlin from over him and getting up, blushing.

      “No need to be so rude” Merlin mumbled, knowing Arthur was probably embarrassed that he needed to be saved.

      “We’re locked here,” Arthur said, pushing the wall tentatively. Merlin closed his eyes and tried to feel a way to open it again, but the magic seemed keen on keeping them there.

       Arthur banged on the door, calling for Gwaine and Lance, to no avail.

      Merlin took the chance to mutter a spell to see if he could overpower the magic, but nothing happened. The enchantment that trapped them there was too ancient and too strong.

      Suddenly, golden words appeared on the door opposing the one they entered.

      May the truth guide your path

      May the secrets which are guarded deep be set free

      “What’s that supposed to mean?!” Arthur asked, frustrated.

      “I think we must tell the truth,” Merlin said, and Arthur looked at him as if he was dumb.

      “I understood that” he deadpanned.

      “Maybe… maybe one of us has to tell our deepest secret,” Merlin said. Arthur kept looking at him.

      “Well?”

      “What?”

      “Go on. Tell your secret. Let’s see if it works”

      “Why don’t you tell your secret?” Merlin asked, accusingly.

      “I’m the prince! You obey me”

      “What if my secret is worse than yours?” Merlin asked, a bit of irritation sipping into his voice.

      “Like your secret could be interesting at all” Arthur retorted, but Merlin knew he was curious. “Anyway, you are my servant; you can’t keep secrets from me. You don’t even know how to keep secrets!”

      “You would be surprised”

      Arthur narrowed his eyes.

      “Go on, then. Prove to me that you were able to keep a secret from me all this time”

      Arthur was baiting him, he knew. But arguing would lead to nothing. One of them would have to tell their deepest secret, or else they would be trapped there forever.

      Merlin hated this place.

      He took a deep breath and looked at Arthur. If he was forced to tell his secret, it would be on his terms.

      “First, I need you to know that all I did, all I am, is for you. What I'm going to tell you, I was born with it, because it is my destiny to use it to help you unite Albion and become the great king you are destined to be”

      Arthur blushed, looking even more curious.

      “Stop blabbing, Merlin, and spill it!”

      All right.

      “I have magic”

More on https://archiveofourown.org/works/49947025

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 12

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, drinking, sexual content (smut), paige being down so bad, incredibly long and dialogue heavy Wordcount: 8.9K A/C: this is dedicated to that anon saying they're sick, i hope you feel better!! also this is so dialogue heavy i'm sorry if it's not that fun to read and idk how this turned out so long but here we are!! hope everyone is well as always leave me thoughts in my inbox i love that shit!! okay bye <33

-

Before London

“Kiran! Kiran!” My screams echo around the airport as I run towards my brother, without a care in the world of how it might look to other people. I approach him fast, able to recognise the goofy smile and his tired eyes any time any place. Thankfully I wore sandals today, I wouldn’t have been able to run like this in heels

“You’re a lunatic,” he laughs as I crash into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. Kiran’s comforting hand rubs my upper back. I loved Dallas, I loved my job, the people here were amazing. But one thing was missing, and that was my brother. I wasn’t used to being apart from him for so long. I had been his protector, his best friend the second he was born - not that he had much say in the matter.

“Oh my goodness, I can’t believe you’re here!” I gleam out of breath, pulling back and looking at that familiar face staring back at me, features similar to mine yet sharper, broader. Kiran looks around us slightly embarrassed, some of the surrounding people staring with warm smiles.

“Relax Izzie you’re causing a scene,” he whispers, but I don’t care, too giddy to be close to my baby brother again. I bounce up and down, giggling and squealing with excitement.

“I can’t believe you’re hereeee,” I sigh in a sing-songy voice, looking at my brother whose green eyes stare into my face.

“Hollup,” he grins and pulls back, looking at my feet. “You’re wearing… flats?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s early, couldn’t be bothered with heels.”

“And you haven’t done your hair?”

My brows furrow in annoyance, and I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m trying to avoid using heat on it, why are you nagging like mum?”

“Why are you getting offended? It’s just unlike you.”

So like us to get into an argument the first minute of seeing each other.

“If I wanted to be criticised I would’ve bought a ticket back to London.” I scoff, looking everywhere but my brother to let him know I’m unhappy with him. He takes a deep sigh in frustration before calming himself down.

“Alright, time out,” he groans, knowing he would never win. He knew I always had to have the last word. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, it’s just not like you Iz.”

I suppose he was right. In the past two months I had grown much more relaxed, sure I was still uptight but for some reason everything just seemed easier, lighter. Like I didn’t have to be so high strung constantly. I didn’t always have to be in control. That sometimes it was okay for me to let my waves down or go to the grocery store in leggings. Or to eat dessert before dinner or to sleep in on a Sunday - all things Paige had taught me.

“Fine, let’s just forget it,” I mumble, unwilling to apologise or admit I had maybe overreacted. “C’mon, my friend’s waiting.”

Paige had been insisting all week that I let her drive me to the airport, but after what almost blew up to be our first argument I reminded her that if we wanted to keep this a secret that would have to include not telling Kiran. I also didn’t want to get my brother involved in something that wasn’t going to last in the end. I know he’d get far too excited about the possibility of having a future “sister-in-law” in the league. I couldn’t risk getting his hopes up. It was already dreadful work trying to keep mine realistic.

So instead of getting a cab, I had agreed for Trey to drive us. It was polite of him to offer, though Paige was convinced his intentions were far from chivalrous. 

“Who’s this guy again?” Kiran asks, pulling his large suitcase and unzipping his hoodie, already feeling the Dallas heat hit him.

“Just a coworker,” I explain as we step out, Trey leaning against the car with a bright smile once he spots us.

“Kiran! Welcome to Dallas!” He grins brightly, introducing himself to my brother with a firm handshake and an overly friendly expression - something I had grown accustomed to during my months in the States. My brother though, not so much, a little taken aback but still polite as always. 

We pack into the car and I let the boys sit in the front, leaning against the cool leather in the backseat as Trey points out different landmarks of the city for my brother.

“So you’re staying for how long?” Trey asks.

“For a little over a week,” I reply for my brother - a habit that I had always had.

“You gotta come see a game man,” Trey smiles, hands holding the wheel with relaxed ease.

Kiran nods, looking back at me. “That’s the plan. Need to get those courtside seats.”

I scoff, letting out a dry laugh. “Courtside? I don’t know how influential you think I am but you’ll take whatever seats I can get you.”

“Oh so I travelled all the way to America to sit in the back and not be able to see anything?”

“I’ll get you binoculars.”

Trey laughs, shrugging. “Everyone gotta experience courtside at least once bro,” he murmurs. “You should ask Paige, Zari.”

Only hearing her name come out of someone’s mouth is enough to make my cheeks flush red, as I toy with my fingers on my lap, clearing my throat to pull myself together.

“Uh, I don’t know,” I chuckle awkwardly.

“Oh c’mon, she’d love to help you out,” Trey encourages me, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’re like two peas in a pod anyway.”

“You are?” My brother turns back to look at me, surprised by this revelation. 

“Not really.”

“Pshh, please,” Trey laughs. “They’re basically inseparable, thick as thieves, those two.”

“Wh- Why didn’t you tell me?” My brother who never forgot to mention what a huge fan of Paige he was (and how attractive he found her) asks, clearly offended.

“We’re just coworkers, that’s it,” I get a little too defensive for the lighthearted conversation. My brother doesn’t pick up on it though, too excited to find out that his sister is friends with one of his favourite players.

“You have to introduce us,” he insists. “She’s coming tomorrow right?”

“She’s coming tomorrow,” I groan, leaning the back of my head against the seat. I had invited my coworkers and some of the team over for dinner and drinks to celebrate my brother being here.

“Everyone’s coming! We love your sister here,” Trey smiles, reaching back to squeeze my knee. The gesture almost makes me jump. “She’s been my saving grace, dunno where I’d be without her.”

“You’re too kind Trey,” I reply as we pull up to the front of the apartment building.

“Nah, just honest, beautiful.”

My brother glances at me and the dark haired man sitting in the driver’s seat with a curious smile before leaning back in his seat, looking around the city.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting Paige Bueckers tomorrow,” he murmurs almost to himself. “I need to plan an outfit.”

“Kiran…” I warn him, growing irritated at his fawning. “She’s not Beyonce.”

“Yeah but she’s just as fit.”

Trey laughs, shaking his head. “Oh man, I don’t think you’re her type.”

“Told you,” I add humorlessly, becoming more annoyed.

“I’m sure I could make her change her mind,” he grins arrogantly. Immediately, I smack the back of his head, telling him to quit.

“Ow!”

“You’re disgusting,” I complain, watching Kiran rub the back of his head. 

“I was taking the piss, don’t get upset.”

I roll my eyes before forcing on a tense smile. “Anyway, thank you for the drive Trey and I am sorry for my little brother.”

“Nah it’s nothing, just let me know if I can do anything else okay? You need help tomorrow let me know.”

“Oh, I won’t! Thank you th-”

“No, no, I insist,” the man interrupts me. I hated being interrupted, especially by Trey. But he had a habit of doing that so I tried to be understanding. Kiran though, knowing how much I despised it, looks at me nervously. But I simply smile, opening the car door.

“Okay Trey, thank you.”

I climb out as he and Kiran dab each other up, my brother following after and grabbing his bags. As Trey pulls into the lane my brother looks at me.

“Are you and him going out?”

I let out a laugh, thinking he’s joking. But my brother keeps staring at me with the serious eyes of my father. So I raise my brows, shaking my head. Me and Trey? Never. Why does everyone think that.

“Absolutely not, he’s my coworker,” I scoff, walking into the building and calling an elevator.

“He fancies you,” Kiran murmurs with a grin. “Nice guy… A little too nice.”

“Why does everyone think he fancies me?” I snap, stepping into the elevator with my brother at my heel. He’s fanning his face, pearls of sweat already forming in the back of his neck.

“You weren’t joking about this heat,” he sighs looking at me. “Look, just be careful with that. I don’t want what happened with Jas-”

“I can take care of myself,” I say sternly, the sound of the metal key sliding into the lock of my apartment door marking the end of that conversation. Kiran knew better than to push my buttons.

I watch as my brother enters my Dallas apartment, mouth slightly agape as he looks around, kicking his shoes off and neatly setting them against the wall by the door. It felt strange, my two lives merging in this way. A piece of London coming together with my secret life in Texas. 

I follow behind Kiran as he takes steady steps along the corridor towards the living room. It’s like I’m seeing my home for the first time in a long time too. What was empty and impersonal just a month ago had become homey and decorated with effort. Framed black and white posters on the blank wall behind the TV, patterned pillows sitting pretty against the grey couch, a baby pink glass vase filled with the white lilies from Paige. The wooden shelf the blonde put up for me is filled with literature and plants. All of a sudden it surprises me, the way I had turned this apartment I thought I might despise forever into a home.

“This is nice,” Kiran admires, fanning his face once more. He walks over to my colour coded schedule hanging off the wall, reading it thoroughly - the current week colour coded green for Kiran.

He lets out a laugh, pointing a finger over messy handwriting in the corner.

“What’s this?”

I walk over, cheeks flashing red the second I realise what he’s pointing at. Underneath his fingertip, it reads: When’s my name getting on this schedule?

Kiran looks at me with a grin as I sigh, shaking my head. 

“Iz, just tell me you’re seeing Trey, there’s no shame in that.”

“Dude, I’m not,” I groan. “It’s just my friend playing with me.”

“Sure,” he says, but I can tell he doesn’t believe it. Rolling my eyes I turn around, walking to the kitchen to get him something to eat. Fine, he can believe what he wants. I suppose it was better for him to think I was with Trey instead of Paige.

-

“I never liked that cologne,” Lou says, absentmindedly dribbling the ball along the hardwood. I shoot an easy three, wiping the post practice sweat off my forehead.

“Bro you’re crazy,” Arike laughs, wiping her hands on the towel resting on her broad shoulder. “It smells so good.”

“Nah, it smells bad. Tried it the other day and had to wash it off my wrist.”

“Well actually Izzie said colognes smell different on different people,” I tell the girls, my tone softening as it always did when I mentioned the girl. “Sumn about the oils on your skin.”

I miss the quick glance Lou and Arike give each other as I lean down to grab my water bottle, throwing my head back to chug it down my throat. 

“Yo, whose playlist is this?” Lou asks, the sound of a SZA song playing in the background of bouncing basketballs and squeaking sneakers. 

“Mine, it’s fire right?” I grin, tossing the ball between my hands. “Izzie loves this song,” I tell the girls, butterflies growing in my abdomen thinking about the way we were listening to Pretty Little Birds just the other day, making out in my car. 

“Bro…” Arike laughs, shooting a deep three.

“What?” I ask, confused by the way the girls were snickering together.

“Nun,” the girl murmurs, looking around the court. Everyone else had gone home besides us three, lingering not so much to practice but to spend time together. “I gotta figure out what to get Lala for her birthday.”

“When’s her birthday?” I ask, brushing blonde strands off my face.

“In a week, my Gemini girl,” she hums, wiping sweat off her neck.

“Izzie’s a Leo.”

“Bro!” Arike and Lou groan together, bursting into laughter. I start laughing too, but truthfully I got no idea what they’re finding so funny.

“What?” I ask, slightly annoyed.

“You just can not shut up about her huh?” Lou chuckles, looking at me. To my horror I realise that the entire day I have been bringing her name up in every conversation, always finding a way to snake her in. Truthfully, I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t think of anything else. Just her.

“Bro, no ‘s not like that,” I laugh, rubbing the bridge of my nose in embarrassment. “She just knows stuff. I just be listening.”

“Are you listening to us tho?” Arike teases, walking over and shoving my face playfully. I blush, rolling my eyes.

“Aight, enough.”

“Ohhh she down bad,” Arike taunts me, laughing as she points my face out to Lou, red as a tomato. “Look at how red she is.”

“No, you just being bullies,” I complain, though there was no hiding it. I knew she was right. “We’re just friends.”

“Rightttt,” Lou chuckles, sharing another amused glance with Arike.

“Bro, what?” I ask, sitting down on the hardwood and grabbing my phone.

“You guys are not as slick as you think,” Lou laughs, Rike nodding in agreement.

“Forreal, she be eyefucking you mid practice.”

I nearly choke on my water.

“Yooooo, you trippin,” I complain, eyes widening as I look around the court to make sure no one could hear. The girls share another glance, snickering again. I check the time, realising I need to get home if I want to look presentable for the dinner party. For Izara.

“Shoot, I’mma need to go get ready,” I murmur, climbing up from the floor and grabbing my stuff.

“You nervous meeting her baby bro?” Arike asks.

Yes. I hadn’t slept last night.

“Nah,” I chuckle. “It’s cool, I’ll see y’all tonight.”

-

You have to be joking. I rummage through my bag once again, pulling out hoodies and towels and socks. Nothing. My hands feel the pockets of my shorts for my keys but they’re nowhere to be found.

“Shit,” I murmur to myself, looking around the apartment stairway as if it might help me figure out a way in. There wasn’t one. Not without my keys, which I clearly didn’t have with me. I really didn’t need this today, I had been on edge all morning, nervousness twisting in my stomach as I thought about meeting Kiran. I had to make a good impression. I just had to. 

Digging for my phone in my pocket, I dial the number for a locksmith. But as my finger is about to press call, the screen goes black, flashing to be charged as if taunting me. “Are you kidding me,” I groan rubbing my face.

There was no other choice, so I make my way down the flight of stairs, smoothing my slicked back hair that had gone frizzy at practice as I knock on the door. Quickly it opens, familiar eyes staring back at me. Though they’re not green, more like hazel, still sharp and wise just like Izara’s.

Kiran is a mirror image of her sister, if not for the wide jaw and broad shoulders and the stubble covering the lower half of his face. He also didn’t look nearly as intimidating, a softness on his face the way Izzie’s face relaxed only once when she slept.

“Oh shoot, hey,” I murmur surprised, immediately offering my right hand for him to shake. “I’m Paige, you gotta be Kiran.”

The boy’s brows rise and lips part as he takes it in. Paige Bueckers, in the flesh.

“Oh I know who you are,” he chuckles in a friendly way, shaking my hand firmly. “Big fan.”

“Who is it?” Izara’s voice shouts from the kitchen, gentle steps approaching as she peeks around the corner to the front door. The nervousness in my stomach settles the second I see her face, her green eyes widening.

“Paige,” she gasps, walking hurriedly to me and Kiran as if not wanting to leave us alone for a second. She’s wearing a striped apron over her knitted set, though her makeup and hair are done in preparation for the night.

“Hey Izzie, I’m sorry,” I murmur, my voice softening as I speak to her. “I locked myself outta my apartment.” 

I want to kiss her, to wrap my arms around her like I always did to greet her. But I knew in front of Kiran we are only friends. It was killing me.

“Did you call a locksmith?” Kiran interrupts, clearly eager to be a part of the conversation. His eyes never leave me, feeling too starstruck in the moment.

“Phone’s dead,” I chuckle awkwardly. Izzie looks from me to her brother, back to me. We’re both awkward, unsure how to act under the watchful eyes of Kiran.

“Go knead the dough,” Izzie commands her brother, pushing him towards the kitchen.

“B-but,” he starts but just like me. he has no choice but to listen to the dark haired girl.

“Go.”

Wordlessly, doing his best not to protest, Kiran turns the corner and goes into the kitchen. Izzie turns to me, wrapping a quick arm around my waist. I press a silent kiss on the top of her hair, my pounding heart slowing down the moment I feel her flush against me.

“Missed you,” I whisper, praying Kiran can’t hear. “I’m sorry for this.”

“No gorgeous, it’s perfectly okay,” Izzie reassures me. “You wanna borrow my phone?”

-

“Wait she lives right upstairs? Why didn’t you tell me?” Kiran complains but I shush him, wrapping the pasta dough to let it rest in the fridge.

“Because you’re embarrassing me,” I hiss, pushing him out of my way. Paige is in the other room, talking to the locksmith, her voice muffled through the walls.

“Iz why didn’t you tell me you were like… actually good friends?”

I roll my eyes, shutting the fridge door. “We’re friends. That’s it. Coworkers.”

“She calls you Izzie… She gets away with that?”

“She prefers it.”

“No one calls you Izzie but me and like… your best friends,” my brother points out. I shrug, turning to him.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you were gonna be weird about it,” I whisper, listening for the blonde girl making sure she won’t overhear us.

“I won’t be!”

“You’re being weird right now!” My voice rises a little, but I quickly remind myself to be quiet. “Look, Paige is cool. She’s been a good friend to me. That’s all, end of conversation.”

“She’s hotter in person,” Kiran grins, I shove him hard enough to let him know I wasn’t playing around.

“Quit. She’s gay,” I scoff, beginning to chop up some onions.

“How can you be sure?”

Oh if he only knew.

“I’m sure,” I complain, growing irritated and even slightly jealous at my brother’s remarks about Paige. “Just act normal, for once. Please.”

Just as he’s about to answer, the blonde walks around the corner, a frustrated smile stretched across her face.

“Well, bad news,” she groans, walking over to me absentmindedly - our bodies like magnets, pulling to be close each moment. “They not coming till tomorrow.”

“Are you joking?” Kiran asks, laughing and leaning against the counter. Paige nods, shifting on her feet, pushing her cuticles back. An anxious habit she has. It’s then I realise, she’s nervous, looking around the ceiling, biting the insides of her cheeks.

“Wish I was,” she murmurs. “I’mma call Rike and ask if I can go over to theirs.”

“Well, you could stay here, right Iz?” My brother asks. I want to kill him. Not because I don’t want her here. But because I don’t know how long I can keep myself under control with her around. I could already feel my body aching to touch her, to press close to her.

I glance up at Paige whose blue eyes and staring down at me, soft and pleading. I know she feels just as I do.

“Of course you can stay,” I murmur, my voice involuntarily rising and softening. 

“Yeah?” Paige asks, her voice a soft hum as if it’s just us two at this moment. I nod, my cheeks turning rosy. 

“I need to shower,” she says. “And change.”

“I washed the button up you left here,” I coo, “and you have those black shorts here you could wear them.”

“Thank you Iz,” she murmurs. “Dunno what I’d do without you.”

Kiran clears his throat and suddenly I’m brought back to earth, Paige takes a step back realising she’s probably leaning over a little too close.

“Go shower,” I tell Paige, trying to hide the shakiness in my voice.

“Yes ma’am,” the blonde says, leaving with a slight smile to both me and my brother.

“Oh, the towels ar-”

“I know,” Paige shouts from around the corner, disappearing. Avoiding the gaze of my brother, I begin to chop up the onions and carrots, my eyes locked on the chopping board. But I see from the corner of my eye Kiran looking at me curiously. Fuck, I guess we’re being pretty obvious. I’m sure he’s already noticed.

“I’m about to have a sleepover with Paige Bueckers,” he gleams in a quiet voice, his face sparkling. I let out a deep breath, too relieved to even scold him. My dear little brother was bright and kind and gentle - and completely oblivious at times. Thank God.

-

I stand in my towel in Izzie’s bedroom, looking at my shirt hung up in her closet. It looks right, her clothes next to mine, the white and baby blue striped shirt fitting perfectly with the cream coloured dress beside it. It’s too hot to get fully dressed, so I put on my white sports bra and the black denim shorts, my boxers peeking out just a little. As I’m checking myself in the mirror, Izzie steps in, eyes glancing at my bare abdomen.

“Oh sorry, I should’ve knocked,” she mumbles, closing the door behind her.

“No mama, it’s okay,” I reassure her, watching her walk over to the closet and pull out my shirt, smoothing over it carefully.

“I ironed it too,” she tells me, and my heart nearly bursts from the lilt of her voice.

“Thank you,” I murmur, walking over and snaking a hand around her waist, like I’d been dying to ever since I stepped in. Izzie’s eyes flutter shut, breathing immediately growing heavy. All this sneaking around was somehow getting both of us more hot and bothered.

“I- I’m done with the food, I just have to set the table,” she whispers, exhaling loudly as I lean down and pepper soft kisses along her neck. “I have to get dressed.”

“Lemme help.”

“Paige…” she hums, a feeble attempt at resistance while her body submits, head tilting to give me more space. My hand feels the curve of her body, finding its way to the band of her knitted pants. I had been dying for this, for her.

“Kiss me,” I plead, voice turning whiny. “Please Iz, kiss me.”

She doesn’t hesitate, turning to face me and wrapping her arms around my neck as she pulls me down for a hungry, heated kiss. “You’re driving me crazy,” she whimpers into my mouth as she kicks her pants off. My knee quickly finds its way between her thighs, pressing into her clothed core.

“Missed you so bad baby,” I nearly cry out, touching her everywhere, her legs, her waist, her arms, her face. I couldn’t get enough. Just one night spent apart had been torture.

“Iz where are the napkins?” Kiran’s voice suddenly cuts through our joint panting, making us both stop in our heels.

“Uhh, hold on, I need to change,” Izzie shouts through the door, flustered. I chuckle a little, wiping my lips to dry them from the girl’s spit. “Go show him,” she silently commands, pointing at the door.

“Yes ma’am,” I whisper, grinning and stepping out. Kiran is standing outside the door expectantly, eyes widening when he sees me. He’s not very tall, around the same height as I am. He looks at me for a while, studying my face.

“You okay, you’re a little red?”

I feel my cheeks burn even hotter at his question, just hoping he wasn’t as bright as his older sister.

“Uhh, yeah, was a hot shower,” I chuckle awkwardly, walking to the kitchen with the boy. “How old are you anyway?” I ask to change the subject.

“Oh I’m 22,” he answers. I nod, automatically opening the correct kitchen drawer for the napkins. 

“Here,” I murmur, handing them to Kiran.

“Huh.”

I turn my eyes to him curiously. “What?”

“You know where the towels are, where the napkins are, you call her Izzie… You must be really good friends with my sister,” he says, leaning against the counter. I was always a bad liar, so I decided it would be better to be honest - as long as it wasn’t too honest.

“Yeah, she’s awesome,” I smile to myself, watching Kiran reach for plates. “No not those ones,” I tell him, pointing to the second set on top. “She uses those for guests. You know how she is.”

“Oh, trust me I do,” he laughs. “Grew up with her.”

I chuckle. “She always been that…”

“Uptight?”

“I was gon say particular.”

The laughter from Kiran is enough of an answer, making me grin too.

“You know, she didn’t even tell me you two are friends,” he says as we walk the cutlery and glasses to the dining table. I stop, furrowing my brows. Why would she try to hide that? Maybe she was more private than I thought. But not even telling her own brother that we’re friends seemed a little strange.

Kiran notices, grabbing the wine glasses from my hands. “Don’t take it personally, it probably has more to do with me than you. She thinks I’m a fan.”

I chuckle, beginning to set up the plates hoping whatever I was doing would be up to Izara’s standards. Likely not. “Well are you?”

Kiran rolls his eyes, looking like a carbon copy of his sister just for a fleeting second. “Well I mean, you play tough! I can’t deny that.”

“Yeah, top PG in the world,” I joke, knowing that the start to this season had been horrible. It was better to joke than to show how I really felt. I tried to be grateful for the path God had paved for me, but I just didn’t understand why it had to be like this. 

“Absolutely not, that’s Magic,” Kiran argues, watching as I set the table.

“Over Steph?”

Kiran thinks for a while, about to answer when Izara steps out of the room, in a cream coloured halter neck dress, making her skin glow even more than usual.

“Steph is the best point guard of all time,” she interrupts, finishing the conversation for both of us. “Paige, could you zip me up?”

I watch her, breathless, before realising I was definitely doting and should probably stop.

“Uh, sure,” I gulp, walking over. Izara turns her back to me, pulling her hair to the side. Flashes of the nights spent together fill my head, memories of the way that back looks in the dim light of her bedroom when she’s bent over for me. I breathe heavily through my nose, my hands nearly shaking when I fumble with the zipper, slowly brushing my fingers against her skin as I zip upwards. It kills me not to lean down and press an open mouthed kiss on her shoulder, Izzie’s perfume in the air taunting me.

The girl feels it too, I can see it from the goosebumps forming on her arms and the irregular way her chest is heaving. 

“Uh, Kiran used to play actually,” she says with a gentle voice to interrupt the tender moment.

“Oh, forreal? You should come shoot some ball with us next week,” I suggest, glancing at Kiran who’s obliviously fluffing the pillows on the couch just like his sister does.

“Yeah, he’s not that good,” Iz teases, her breath hitching a little as my hands linger on her neck, bringing her hair back from her shoulder.

“Yeah, well Paige hasn’t been doing too hot either,” Kiran jokes, my brows rising and an offended smile growing on my face.

“Kiran!” Izzie scolds, and it warms my heart how genuinely offended she seems for me. I laugh, rubbing my jaw.

“Nah, he clocked me lowkey,” I chuckle, Kiran sitting down on the couch and laughing. I sit down next to him leaning back, manspreading as always. “You play Fortnite?” Classic way to bond with anyone’s younger brother.

“Oh good heavens,” Izzie murmurs, fixing the way we set the table which, unsurprisingly, wasn’t up to her standards.

“Sometimes, haven’t for a bit though,” Kiran answers.

“You and Iz should come play sometime next week. I got a playstation,” I suggest, wanting to do anything to win him over. I needed him to like me, badly.

“Oh, good luck getting that one to play,” Kiran points at Izzie, whose face is scrunched up in concentration as she refolds the napkins for each plate for the fourth time.

A smug grin spreads on my face. “Oh she played with me.”

The boy’s jaw falls slack as he looks at his sister, a shocked look on his face. “Iz?”

The dark haired girl grins, rolling her eyes. “I had no choice, I lost a bet.”

“What bet?”

The bet when Izara didn’t believe I could make her cum in five minutes. I did it in three. Our eyes meet, a knowing smirk on both our faces. My cheeks turn hot as I chuckle awkwardly, looking to the ground.

“Just some bet,” Iz murmurs. “Now both of you, go change. Guests are gonna be here any minute.”

“Yes ma’am,” me and Kiran answer in unison, getting up from the couch without hesitation.

-

“Bolognese in a white dress. I’m impressed,” Lala jokes as I set the plate down in front of her, a piece of garlic bread on the side.

“Oh I’m ready to change any moment I spill,” I laugh as Paige emerges from behind me with more plates, placing them in front of each guest. She had insisted on helping me, hovering around me eager for anything to do. I found it incredibly endearing. 

Everyone is gathered around the dining table, my coworkers and some of the team I had grown close to all welcoming my brother with open arms. As much as the Texas hostility felt overwhelming at times, at this moment I’m grateful for it. Kiran is sitting between Trey and Arike, engaged in a lively conversation about UK rap, which the girl seems uneducated on. I’m not sure whether to warn her that my brother can talk about any topic for hours, so she should just stop before it starts.

“Could you-” I start but Paige is already turning around.

“The wine and the beer?”

I smile contentedly, chest fluttering as I watch the blonde girl already know what I needed without needing me to finish a sentence. Me and her go around, pouring drinks around the table before settling opposite of Arike and Lala, the older woman smiling at us knowingly. Of course she knew, there was no hiding anything from her I had realised these past couple months as we became closer friends.

“This looks fire,” Arike gleams, about to dig in. But Lala stops her.

“You should say a few words, Zari.”

Not again. What is it with Americans and their stupid speeches? I freeze, trying to maintain my composure. I hadn’t planned for anything to say, my palms beginning to sweat at the idea of an impromptu speech. It was badly reminding me of my arrival to Dallas, and the way Paige had saved me. As if reading my mind, the blonde stands up beside me, grabbing her bottle of beer.

“Uhh, welcome everyone, it’s nice seein’ y’all,” she starts a little flustered. Arike snickers, giving Lou a look. I turn to Paige, watching her glance down at me with a smile. My mouth stretches into an approving grin, feeling butterflies in my stomach for the way the blonde girl just knew me. Just knew when she should take the reins and lead me once in a while. It felt good to be known.

“Iz- I mean Zari, she savin’ her voice so she can yell at me later for fucking up this speech later,”

Laughter. She always knew how to make people laugh. I laugh too, which makes the blonde beam with pride.

“I think I’m speakin’ for everyone when I say we’re all really grateful for this little lady right here,” Paige continues, her hand coming to squeeze my shoulders. Sparks spread down my body, as I bring my hand over hers, patting it.

“I know  if it wasn’t for this woman right here I’d be eatin’ McDonalds four times a week,” she chuckles, pulling her hand away after lingering for as long as she possibly can. “We’re so lucky to have her here in Dallas with us, not just tonight but always.”

I chew on my lower lip, my heart pounding in my chest. I want to stand up and kiss her, to hold her forever and never let go.

“So thanks Kiran for letting us borrow your sister. She’s… a blessing,” she smiles, pointing the glass bottle towards my brother who’s smiling up at her. “Uh, anyway, to Izzie. Oh, and welcome Kiran.”

My cheeks burn red as the blonde sits back down, cheering my wine glass with her bottle. I can’t help it when my hand comes to rub her broad, muscular shoulders over the pale blue shirt that made her appear tanner than normal. She looks gorgeous, a wide smile across her face eager for praise.

“You’re so sweet my love,” I whisper to her as the clinking of glasses and bottles fills the room. Paige beams, leaning over and kissing my cheek in a way that could be seen as platonic - but I know better. I can feel the emotion and intent behind it, the way she lingers just a millisecond longer than a friend would.

“Yo, this is so good,” Arike groans as people pass around the parmesan, taking turns grating it onto each plate.

“Iz always made the best bolognese,” Kiran says, setting his napkin neatly onto his lap just like me. I smile happily at the compliments, grating parm onto my plate, and then to Paige’s. I had cooked for her enough times to know how much cheese she liked. My brother, Arike, Lou and Satou stare at us unbeknownst to me, as Paige mutters a quiet thanks. Lala’s hand is quick to swat at her fiance, signalling her to stop her snickering.

I hear the blonde chuckling to herself, watching my brother closely as she takes bites of her food.

“What are you laughing at?” I whisper as the noise and hassle around us fades into a distant hum, the room moving on without us, leaving us slipping into our own little world.

Paige grins, pointing discreetly at my brother who’s meticulously folding the corners of his napkin.

“He’s doin’ that thing you do,” the girl laughs quietly, leaning closer to me. I smirk realising she was right, but can’t keep my eyes on Kiran sitting opposite us when I feel Paige’s hand on my bare knee underneath the table, the ring on her thumb cool against my warm skin. Licking my lips my eyes lock on Paige, who’s leaning back on her chair and sipping her beer, jawline prominent as she throws her head back. She’s engaged in a conversation with Lou sitting next to her, a blonde strand falling on her face from her bun. Without thinking about it I reach over and fix it for her, the simple but intimate gesture making her squeeze my knee and bring her hand a little further, fingertips digging into my thigh now.

-

We play this cat and mouse game the entire duration of dinner, a glance here, a touch there. It takes all my self-discipline not to allow my hand to travel up and up her silky thigh. But I resist, both of us spending the evening talking to everyone but each other, but we know that we’re both on fire, burning and aching to love on each other.

“Oh gosh, I’m so full,” Izzie complains to Arike and Lala, leaning back on her chair. Without much thinking, I grab the fork from my empty plate and begin to pick at Izara’s leftovers - a routine we had grown into in the past month. She finishes my coffee, I finish her food. 

“This was so good, seriously,” Satou praises as Arike reaches for a second helping of garlic bread.

“Delicious Zari, you’re a very good cook,” Trey smiles in a sickly sweet manner, pissing me off. Everything he did pissed me off. I could see through every trick. He had been talking with Kiran all night, interrupting any conversation I had with him. I knew he was trying to win over the little brother. He would never win over Izzie though. He would never make her cum in just three minutes. No, only I did that.

“Thank you everyone,” Iz smiles, looking around the table, her green eyes lined with black stopping on me, lashes fluttering. Suddenly she bursts into a laugh.

“What?” I ask, my mouth full of spaghetti.

The dark haired girl giggles, suddenly grabbing hold of my chin and leaning over with a napkin.

“Oh darling how’d you manage to do this?” She says with a stifled laugh, wiping harshly at the corners of my mouth and chin. My cheeks grow rosy and hot, from embarrassment but also from the way she’s leaning over, the plunging neckline of the dress accentuating her round breasts, nevermind her nails digging into my chin like they sometimes did when she pulled me into a kiss. With an internal groan I force my gaze to the corner of the room, trying to rid the filthy thoughts in my head.

“I dunno, I’m just a messy eater,” I joke, raising my brows and it’s Izara’s turn to blush as she pulls back, shoving me away by my jaw playfully.

“Yooo,” Arike, who's been watching us closely with Lala, laughs to herself. So much for being secretive I guess. To my horror I notice Kiran in the corner, eyeing us suspiciously, but shrugging as he opens another beer.

“Shut up,” Izzie says sternly, shaking her head in disapproval.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you say.”

She grins, letting out a heavy exhale through her nose before speaking. 

“Would anyone want more to drink?” she offers, standing up from her seat. Like clockwork, I do the same.

“I’ll help.”

Trey stands up too, beginning to pile up plates. I wanna strangle him.

“I can help too,” Trey suggests, but I yank the plates from him as gently as you could yank anything, a blank smile on my face.

“Don’t worry bro, small kitchen.” Not really, but I did not need him trying to win my Izara over. Not now, not ever. It was my job and right to serve her and take care of her. Not his. Mine.

I carry the load of dirty dishes into the kitchen where Izara is opening another bottle of wine, a hint of a blush on her cheeks from the alcohol. I watch her scrunched up concentrated face, leaning against the counter with the beer bottle between my lips, taking a long sip. She doesn’t turn her head to look, she knows I’m watching, she can tell by the way it burns her skin.

“You gonna follow me around all night?” She asks, a teasing lilt to her voice. I chuckle dryly, walking closer to help her with the bottle. I might not drink wine but had many practice rounds before hanging out with the dark haired girl. It would’ve been embarrassing if she had found out I didn’t know how to open wine bottles before. My fingers brush over hers, sending sparks everywhere.

“Someone gotta look after you,” I murmur, the discussions from the dining table now merely muffled noises. The silence stretches unbearably, our heavy breathing the only sound as I work the bottle, Izzie’s arm brushing against mine and tickling. With a deep sigh, the dark haired girl turns around towards the sink, beginning to wash the plates, one by one. Finally popping the bottle, I follow her, boldly taking steps towards her until I can feel the heat of her back against my front.

“Why you always gotta be on dish duty?” I ask with a whisper, reaching around her and putting the plates down from her hands. She’s impossibly still, trying not to let me know how much my closeness affected her. Though the goosebumps on her neck were visible, telling me just enough.

“I like taking care of people,” she hums.

“My turn to take care of you ma,” I say softly, turning off the sink. “You got sumn on your neck.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” I nod, slowly leaning down as my chest presses into her upper back, my nose brushing the curls on her neck to the side. “Right here.”

I wet my lips before they land on the skin of her neck, Izara’s perfume making my mind spin as I leave gentle kisses on her. She whimpers silently, the curve of her ass fitting perfectly against my hips. I feel a familiar ache growing deep in my stomach, a burn that could only be satisfied by one thing. 

As my slow hands are about to land on Izzie’s breasts, footsteps rapidly growing closer force me to take a step back. It’s as if I’m prying myself away from the girl, whole body aching with how badly I need her.

Kiran, holding two empty bottles of beer, turns the corner and smiles.

“Well hello.”

“Havin a good time?” I ask, clearing my throat when my voice comes out hoarse.

“Ohh yeah it’s great,” Kiran grins, wrapping an arm around Izzie’s shoulders. She’s still gathering herself, green eyes locked into mine. “Heard you’ve been taking good care of my sister.” 

We both pause, Izara’s eyes widening. Kiran is oblivious though, reaching for a new bottle of beer. I hand it to him, heart pounding fast in my chest.

“Arike was saying how you drive her everywhere so she doesn’t have to take cabs.”

I let out a deep sigh of relief, chuckling awkwardly and shrugging. “‘S nothin, she’s good to me too.”

“Ohhh her best friends are gonna be jealous when I tell them what a good friend you have over in Dallas,” Kiran teases Iz, poking her face. I can see he’s a little tipsy, growing much looser like his sister with alcohol. 

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” the girl groans, pushing his brother off her playfully. Kiran sips his beer, looking at us two. 

“So, what are the sleeping arrangements?”

Me and Izara share a look, unsure of how to play this in a way that will make sure we’ll end up in her bed together by the end of the night. 

“I’m playing, of course you’ll sleep together,” Kiran chuckles. “You can stay up and have a sleepover and talk shit about everyone like girls do.”

A nervous laughter fills the kitchen as me and Iz glance at each other. “Why don’t you go back in the living room,” she says, guiding Kiran away from the kitchen. “I’ll come after I get a drink.”

“No, go sit down. I’ll pour you one,” I tell Iz. She turns to me, nearly resisting. But I give her lower back a gentle nudge, nodding towards the living room. “Go relax ma.”

-

I greet the last guests bye, closing the front door with a glass of red wine - not for me of course, but for the girl leaning back on the couch. I walk to the living room, handing it to her. A gentle smile of approval is all I get and need for a thank you, it being enough to make my ears burn.

“Tired?” I ask gently, my hand petting over Izzie’s dark hair. She shrugs, taking a sip of the red wine letting it paint her lips. My fingertips touch against her neck, on the spot I kissed before, the faint taste of her lips still on mine.

“A little,” she whispers. I know what that means. She wants to get into bed, but not to sleep. Kiran is a little tipsy, digging through his suitcase for pajamas with his back facing us. I take the opportunity to reach for Izara’s hand, and kiss it softly. She hums happily, finishing her wine with a long gulp.

“I’m going to bed,” Izzie yawns loudly, making a big scene for her baby brother. 

“Me too, but gotta play Fortnite tomorrow, yeah?” I say, following behind her trail like I had been all night.

“Oh for sure,” Kiran grins, first hugging me, and then her sister. Guess he was more tipsy than I thought.

“Good God, have some water,” Izzie complains as we step into the bedroom, closing the door behind us both.

For a moment we merely look at each other, and only then I realise how badly the burn in my abdomen had been killing me all night. She still looked flawless, though the wine and the company had made her cheeks glow red and eyes grow tired. We get ready for bed together, standing side by side brushing our teeth, taking turns washing our faces. I lean back, letting Izara take her time with her detailed, 12 step skincare routine. It doesn’t bore me, matter of fact I could’ve watched her all night. If it wasn’t for the way my core ached for her.

It all felt so incredibly domestic, her brother sleeping on the couch, the way we had done the dishes together, scrub and dry, scrub and dry, over and over. The way the foam had spilled all over her lips as she leaned over to spit the toothpaste out of her mouth, the way she stared into the mirror to comb through her dark thick hair, letting me catch a glimpse of her inner world. It made me feel special.

“Could you unzip me?” Iz asks, voice hoarse and raspy from talking all night. Without hesitation I walk over, my long fingers pulling down the zipper carefully. I lean down and press a soft kiss onto her upper back. I could get used to this.

I undress too, into my sports bra and boxers, before sliding underneath the sheets. I watch closely as Izzie turns off the lights, the street lamps providing enough light for me to see the dress drop onto the floor, a strapless bra and a matching white thong underneath. I lift the covers for her, never looking away. I couldn’t dare to.

Silently, we turn to our sides, noses nearly touching from how close we are to each other, simply breathing each other in. Our bodies are buzzing with the stolen touches and hungry glances of the night, something about trying to keep this hidden making it all even more ecstatic. Izzie traps her lower lip under her teeth, green eyes gazing into me desperately. I can’t stop myself. I inch closer, nose pressing into hers, her hot minty breath lingering on my face. And then I kiss her, like I had been dying to.

It quickly grows from gentle and loving to intimate and raw. I roll on top of Izzie, beginning to kiss her neck sloppily. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the pure lust, but both of us were getting needier quicker than normal, my teeth nibbling on her long, beautiful neck, probably leaving a mark or two. I couldn’t be bothered to care.

My hands make quick work of her bra, pulling it off and chucking it somewhere on the floor. She’s breathing heavy now, legs wrapping around me. My large hands feel her up everywhere, her breasts, her waist, her hips, her thighs, silky smooth everywhere. 

“Fuck,” I whisper, leaning down to trap one of her breasts into my mouth. Izara’s back arches, my lips wrapping around her nipples and sucking, making my boxers grow impossibly wet. “Perfect tits.”

My fingertips travel down her stomach, to the band of her satin panties, dipping underneath just slightly. Iz breathes out loudly, looking at me with furrowed brows.

“What about Kiran?” She whispers, her hips squirming in a way that lets me know she might cry if she doesn’t get this.

“Just gotta be quiet,” I answer comfortingly, raising my head to face her. “You can do that for me, right baby?”

She nods eagerly, a cocky grin spreading onto my face. “Good girl,” I whisper, pulling her panties down. She’s soaked, already dripping onto the sheets. I have to bite down onto her  shoulder when my fingers dip into her pussy, making a loud squelching sound as I swirl in her folds. Izzie gasps, but I cover her mouth before she can make noise.

“Oh my poor baby,” I whimper into her ear, nose nuzzling it gently. “You been this wet for me all night?”

“Mhmm,” Izzie nods desperately as my fingertips rub slow and sloppy circles on her puffy, soaked clit. I feel my own pussy throbbing at the way she had been dying all day, needing me so badly. I just wanted to take care of her.

“Lemme make it better,” I murmur, speeding up my movements. “Lemme help baby, it hurts don’t it?”

The girl nods, her eyes rolling back as my fingers rub in fast, tight circles, more precise than before. I feel the way her body’s tensing and flexing underneath me, her pleasure growing each second. She’s impossibly wet, and I pray Kiran can’t hear the squelching sounds nevermind the quiet whimpers coming from her.

“Gonna make you feel so good baby, gonna make it all better,” I coo, a high pitched gasp leaving Izzie when my fingers slide into her tight cunt with ease from how slick she was.

“Shh, gotta be quiet mama,” I remind her, kissing on her neck and breasts as I pump my fingers into her. She’s pulsing already, throbbing around my long digits that are curling against the soft tissue inside her, right at the spot that made her gush around my fingers. Should’ve put a towel down, but right this moment, I couldn’t care less.

“Paige,” she whispers, muffled against my hand covering her mouth. She’s close, but I’m not done, my mouth watering already like it had been all night. So I replace my hand with hers and begin my descent. 

I kiss my way down, throwing the blanket off from top of me and her, spreading her legs wide open. She’s really soaked, I can see it even in the dim light of the room. A groan escapes my mouth, watching the way my fingers slip in and out of her with ease, her pussy stretching around them perfectly.

Suddenly, Izzie’s yanking my hair and my lips wrap around her clit, tongue circling it at a rapid pace. She’s squirming, legs shaking but I don’t care, pinning her hips down as my fingers pump into her at an incredible speed, my tongue making quick work of her. Her grip tightens in my hair and her cunt pulses around my fingers desperately. She doesn’t need to tell me, I know she’s cumming.

So I keep going, adding a third finger as my tongue moves back and forth fast, my eyes rolling back from how good she tastes. Izzie’s body tenses up, pussy growing tighter and tighter around me like it never had before. Her whimpers are muffled, but obvious, but both of us are too far gone to care.

“Paige I-” she whispers with a high pitched voice, and suddenly she begins to tremble and shake, tugging at my hair as she finishes all over my face. Perhaps it’s not right to pray to God in moments like these, but I plead that behind the bedroom door her brother’s fast asleep, entirely oblivious to what I was and had been doing to his dear sister.

-

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[goldfades]

PARDON MY EMOTIONS / I SHOULD PROBABLY KEEP IT ALL TO MYSELF ── 𝐉𝐁⁵

❪ requested -> "jude angst to fluff WITH PLOT!" ❫

─ pairing | jude bellingham x fem!reader

─ word count | 1.7k

─ warnings | lots of angst to fluff, miscommunication (kind of), jude being an ASSHOLE but making up for it.

─ ev's notes ! | i'm now in my football kick due to the euros and copa america so please send in requests!!! 🤗🎀

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP with England's star football player had its ups and downs.

You got to be a WAG, enjoying the glamorous lifestyle that came with dating Jude. From attending high-profile matches and exclusive events to traveling the world and mingling with other footballers and celebrities, life was never boring. The media attention was overwhelming at times, but you learned to navigate the spotlight and maintain a sense of normalcy.

However, that was the problem. You longed for a sense of normalcy, that was all you wanted was for your relationship. The glitz and glamour of being a WAG was only fun for a bit, not it seemed like you never got a moment to yourself. This was the root of all your relationships, somehow ─ Jude never understood why you wouldn't like all the media attention.

"It's overwhelming," you muttered as you played with the bottom of your of your coffee cup, the warm ceramic providing little comfort. Jude sat across from you, his expression both of concern and confusion.

"What do you mean, overwhelming?" He replied, his gaze locked on you. "This is part of the life we have. The attention, the media... it's just something we have to deal with."

You sighed, looking out the window at the city outside. "But that's just it, Jude. I never wanted this. I love you, and I support your career, but I miss having a private life. I miss being able to go out without cameras following us or people recognizing us everywhere we go."

"Overwhelming for you?" He sighed, his expression hardening. "How do you think I feel? Look, I'm not asking for much ─ I've given you the best life I can,"

You scoffed, he wasn't listening to what you were saying. "This isn't about you or-or what you've given me. I'm grateful, I really am-"

"Doesn't sound like it," Jude cut you off, his voice rising in frustration. "It sounds like you're not happy with anything I've done."

You felt a surge of anger, the words bubbling up before you could stop them. "That's not fair, Jude," you sighed. "I've been by your side through everything, and all I'm asking for is a little understanding. I need space, I need to feel like my own person, not just an accessory to your life."

Jude stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "So, what? You want me to quit football? Give up everything I've worked for?"

"No!" You stood up as well, your heart pounding. "I don't want you to give up anything. I just want you to see things from my perspective for once. I'm losing myself in all of this, and I feel like an accessory you just get to show off."

"Well, you know that's not true," his eyes softened for a moment, but then the frustration returned. "I thought we were a team. I thought we were in this together. But it feels like you're just... giving up."

"I'm not giving up," you said, your voice breaking. "It's hard for me too, like I'm just a pretty face with no dreams or aspirations. That's what they think-"

"Who cares what they think? I know you're more than that, everyone you care about knows that." Jude let out a huff as he glared at you.

"Well it's always just been about you, Jude," you didn't mean it to come out so harsh ─ your tone hard and cold. "Moving to Spain and-and all this, it's hard on me too."

That seemed to hit a nerve because Jude's eyes went wide before he scoffed. "You think this has been easy for me? You think moving to a different country, dealing with the pressure of a new team, and trying to keep us together is all about me?"

You flinched at his words, but your frustration was too strong to back down now. "That's not what I'm saying, Jude. I just want you to see that I'm struggling too. I left everything behind to be with you. My friends, my family, my life — everything."

Jude's face softened slightly, but his jaw was still tight with anger. "I need you to understand that this life comes with sacrifices. We both have to make them, this is what you signed up for."

"I know that, Jude," you said, tears welling up in your eyes as you sniffled. "But sometimes it feels like I'm the only one sacrificing. I feel like I'm losing myself, and I don't know how to fix it."

You wiped away a tear before continuing, averting your gaze from Jude. "I just need to feel like I'm more than just your girlfriend. I need to feel like I have my own purpose."

"You are!" Jude snapped, before sighing.

You sent him a glare as you sighed loudly, getting tired of not being heard. "Don't raise your voice!"

"You're being ungrateful, I've given you everything! A nice house, a nice car, you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?"

That was the last straw. Your mouth was slightly agape as you took in his words. Ungrateful? How could he say that after everything you've sacrificed to be with him?

"Fuck," you sighed as you looked up, meeting his gaze. "Is that how low you think of me? Fine, then. Let them have my position, since apparently, you think I'm just here for the perks," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and anger.

Jude's face fell, a mixture of regret and panic crossing his features. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just frustrated. I love you, and I want us to be happy."

You shook your head, taking a step back. "That's not enough, Jude. Love isn't just about the nice things or the glamorous life. It's about understanding each other. And right now, I don't feel understood."

"That's not what I meant," Jude sighed as he began rubbing his temple. "Jesus, I need some space from you."

You glared as he grabbed his keys from the counter and you watched him walk out of the room, feeling your stomach twist in anxiety and hurt. The sound of the door closing echoed in the silence, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen. Tears streamed down your face as you sank into a chair, feeling the weight of the argument pressing down on you.

You sat there for a while, trying to process everything that had just happened. The love you had for Jude was undeniable, but the constant feeling of being misunderstood was taking its toll. You needed to find a way to reclaim your sense of self, to feel heard in your relationship.

After a few moments, you wiped your tears and took a deep breath. You needed to do something, anything, to clear your mind. You decided to go for a walk, hoping the fresh air would help you think more clearly. Grabbing your jacket, you stepped outside and started walking aimlessly through the streets of the city.

As you walked, you reflected on your relationship with Jude. There had been so many beautiful moments, but lately, it seemed like the challenges were overshadowing the good times. You loved him deeply, but you needed to find a way to communicate better, to make him understand how you felt without it turning into a fight.

After a while, you headed back home, feeling a bit more centered. When you entered the apartment, you heard the TV and sighed. You took off your jacket and made your way to the living room, your gaze landing on Jude was too immersed in the show he was watch to realize you'd come home.

He finally met your gaze and instantly muted the TV, the tension palpable as you walked toward him.

"Hey," you whispered as he gave you a small smile.

He tapped to the spot next to him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitated for a moment before joining him on the couch, the silence between you heavy with tension.

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes filled with regret. "I've been thinking about what you said."

You nodded, your heart aching at the sight of his earnest expression. "Me too. I just... I need you to understand how hard this is for me."

Jude took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. "I know I've been incredibly fucking selfish, and I haven't been listening to you. I didn't realize how much you were sacrificing and how it was affecting you until now and... and I'm sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of relief. "I appreciate that, Jude. I love you, but I need to find my own way, to have something that's mine."

He nodded, squeezing your hand. "Yeah, I get that. And I want to help you find that. We can work on this together, maybe you can look into things that interest you here, find something that makes you happy."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "I’d like that. And maybe we can set some boundaries with the media, try to keep our private life a bit more private."

"Yeah, absolutely," Jude agreed, his eyes shining with determination. "I'll talk to my manager and see what we can do about that. Your happiness is important to me... you are important to me."

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling a sense of reassurance. "Thank you, Jude. I just want us to be happy together, without all the pressure and stress."

He kissed the top of your head, his arm wrapping around you protectively. "We will, I promise."

"I love you, a lot," Jude continued, his voice soft. "I didn't mean anything I said earlier, I was just angry. I don't know..." He trailed off, before pausing. "I don't know what I'd do with you, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his brown ones, and you could see the depth of his feelings for you. "I love you too, Jude," you whispered, your heart swelling with emotion.

As you cuddled together on the couch, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you, you felt a sense of peace.

"How about we start fresh tomorrow?" Jude suggested, his voice gentle. "We can spend the day together, just us. No media, no distractions. Just enjoying each other's company."

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief. "I'd love that. It sounds perfect."

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. "Good. It's a date then."

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[str4wberrysw4n]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟑𝐃 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋!! + 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃 🧁

i don't want to give out too much info, but i have a friend who doesn't come to school very often. she's absent for majority of the week or comes late so i barely get to see her. today, she didn't come and she hadn't come the day before. most of the time, i try to text her to see if she'll respond, but today i thought to myself "why am i upset she isn't at school? besides it doesn't matter to me. I would like for her to be here but it's not a big deal if she isn't." so after 2nd period, we meet up at the stairs so we can walk to class. when she's not here, i wait for her just in case she came late or smth. this time, i simply walked upstairs. smth was telling me that my friend would be here somehow, but i ignored it.

imagine my surprise when i sat down, looked to my right, and saw her sitting down in the flesh. just there. i was shocked.

now, ik this might not seem like a manifestation (spoiler alert: I count it as one) unless u knew how i would affirm for her to come to school only to not get results. i consider her one of my best friends and school isn't the same without her. it was frustrating that the results would only come days later, yet the moment i said i didn't care, it came to me. why?

imo, the key was that I didn't put it on a pedestal. I told myself "I would LIKE for her to come, but it's not a BIG DEAL if she doesn't." i used this not only bcuz it happened at the time im writing this, but bcuz it's a perfect example of how taking ur manifestations off a pedestal helps.

imagine being a king/queen. u have literally everything u desire with the snap of ur fingers. u control everyone and everything around u. but then, u want something that u don't have in the 3d. u have it the 4d, but YOU don't see it bcuz ur eyes are only honed in on the physical world. all of a sudden, u put this object of desire,that u ALREADY have, ABOVE u. it's what u need or else u'll practically fall and break into thousands of pieces. doesn't make any sense, right? well that's literally how it is when u put ur manifestation on such a high pedestal.

YOU are the prize. YOU should be the one placed on the pedestal and stay on it. ik it's hard, especially when there's no evidence of the 3d showing u that -- but it's true. that's why when u care so much abt a manifestation, u are quite literally taking urself off and putting something way less important on there. it's hard to accept that, bcuz society has literally told us that some people are better than others. those who feed into money, fame, "above average" beauty, concepts that only exist in the 3d. but the truth is being tied down to thoughts like that will only make things harder for u.

I'm not saying u shouldn't try to manifest concepts that we know from the 3d -- almost everyone is. I would be a hypocrite to say that when im literally trying to manifest clothes rn lol. im saying that u should stop thinking of those concepts as "impossible" or "out of ur league", bcuz unless u say so, YOU are the standard. stuff like that will only drag u down into the illusion of the 3d.

to sum it up, stop putting the 3d on a pedestal and put urself on there!! when ur able to detach and no longer depend on ur manifestation coming through, it helps it pass through ur 4d level of consciousness and materialize into the 3d. someone with everything doesn't cry abt something they ASSUME they don't have. now, u might be asking: "what do i do if i can't get my mind off it?" i know all too well that this task is easier said than done, so i wanted to help!! :3 these r just some general hobbies u can do instead of obsessing over manifestations!!

🎀 drawing or some form of art

🎀 self care day

🎀 baking

🎀 studying

🎀clean ur room

🎀 text/face time ur friends

🎀 window shopping (my fav lol)

🎀 read a book

🎀 indulge in one of ur own personal hobbies

these r just some of the things that i do when i find myself stressed with a manifestation!! as always, this is all imo, and im just trying my best to help!! happy manifesting ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡