#I should have registered for a later move out date even by one day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceilidho · 5 months

Text

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 2. (read part 1 here) tags: dubcon

There’s a photo of you taped up on the inside of his locker.

The glimpse you catch of it is quick. Not like you aren’t meant to see it, but more like Johnny’s so unconcerned with whether you see it or not that he doesn’t bother to make a show of it. Just reaches into his locker to grab his lunch and shuts it while you’re still gaping at the polaroid of someone that looks suspiciously like you in your store uniform. You hear someone clear their throat and you glance up, flinching when you meet Johnny’s eyes.

“Missing me already?” he teases, winking. “I’ll be back on the floor as soon as possible. ‘Promise, hen.”

“It’s not—”

He’s already out the door and on the way to the lunchroom before you’re able to get the rest of your sentence out.

Johnny seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re about to spurn his advances. Any other day he would have stuck around to listen to the rest of your sentence, but when he has an inkling that those words will be tinged by the flavour of rejection, he’s quick to book it. You privately have to admit it’s not a terrible strategy. It’s not often that you’re able to get the words out.

It’s one of those rare shifts where you’re clocking in later than Johnny, missing his lunch break. Small mercies. It doesn’t mean much because your schedules still overlap a significant amount, but it does mean that you won’t be forced to choke down your lunch while Johnny sits opposite you at the lunch table and stares you down the entire half hour.

“Wait, that was so fucking cute,” someone says from behind you. You turn on your heel to find a coworker staring at Johnny’s locker, properly enchanted by whatever she saw. Practically swooning.

“What is?”

“Didn’t you see the picture he has of you? In his locker?” She says it with emphasis, giving you a significant look.

“Yeah…I…don’t you think it’s a bit…like, weird?” you ask her, making sure to keep your voice low in case Johnny is still around the corner. You can’t help the way you glance down the hallway.

She frowns. “It’s cute. He’s like, smitten with you. I’ve never seen him with a crush on anyone before and I’ve worked with him for over a year. I think it’s kind of nice. Do you not like him or something?”

“Well, I just…we aren’t even dating and I think…I think he even has a photo of me as his lock screen—”

“Because if you aren’t interested in him, you should let him down now. It’s not fair of you to just string him along, you know. He’s a really good guy.”

You’re not sure about the whole good guy thing. Johnny acts like a nice guy most of the time, but you’ve had the unfortunate luck in getting to experience the other side of him.

The problem lies in the fact that Johnny is, you think, a genuinely likeable guy to everyone else. It’s not like your coworkers are all collectively wrong in their opinion of him—he really is an excellent coworker. A good sport, a funny guy; he lends a hand whenever someone needs help. He helped Jeff move two weeks ago, drove Daryl to the airport last Saturday, and looked after Sonya’s cat while she was away on vacation that one time.

It’s with you that his good-time nature evaporates; his lazy, drawled predilection for joking around and indulging himself and others in a good ribbing replaced by a weird, manufactured kindness. Almost sickly sweet. He lays it on so thick around others that they think you experience the same friendship with Johnny that the rest of them get to enjoy.

Not so.

None of them catch the way he’s always hovering, always staring at you. Eyes half-lidded; bedroom eyes in the middle of your shift, in the middle of the workplace.

None of your coworkers are around when you’re at the register one day and Johnny takes his break to make a couple purchases, coming to your cash with a basket full of chocolate, wine, condoms, body butter, and batteries. No one except him notices the way you pause at the last item.

“Dinnae ken if your vibrator was rechargeable or not,” he says when you look at him funny, a big grin stretched across his face. Blue eyes gleaming almost feverishly. “Thought I’d be prepared either way.”

You scan his items in silence. When you hand him his bag, you try not to shudder when he purposefully glances his hand over yours.

Worse are the days when Johnny comes in as a customer, the days when he’s off the schedule. When he shouldn’t even be at the store at all. No one notices the way he pesters you the entire time he’s in the store, insisting on you helping him with his purchases. If a coworker does happen to notice his presence (and how could they not when he’s such a formidable presence in any room, when he almost glows from the energy stockpiled in his body with nowhere else to go), he’ll make polite conversation, just long enough to not seem rude, before shifting his attention back to you.

His conversation borders on interrogation. He asks you about your childhood and your friends and whether you have a partner or any previous partners. He makes you follow him to the bed section where he tries out all the mattresses and then asks you increasingly inappropriate questions like what mattress you have, what it feels like, how you sleep at night, what you wear to bed.

When you rebuff him one too many times, he’s not shy about telling you off.

“Ye just need a good fuck ta sort ye out,” Johnny snarls when you brush off another invite out to lunch one day. It’s not often that he loses his temper with you, so his anger makes your eyes widen, your pulse pick up. During morning shift assignments, he’d corralled your manager into pairing the two of you up on curbside pick-up orders, meaning that you’ve been stuck with him for hours, nowhere else to go.

“Excuse me?” you say, voice going up a decibel.

He leans across the front of the cart loaded with flowerpots and gardening tools. “I get it, hen. No one at home ta play with your pussy, huh? No choice but ta come into work all pent up and frustrated—”

“This is in like, the outer Hebrides of ‘none of your business’—”

“—clit’s probably all swollen too. Fuck.” He breathes out heavily through his nose, eyes darkening. “No wonder you’re always pissed off. I’d be too if I dinnae have a little replacement pussy at home.”

“You’re the reason I’m upset in the first place, Johnny.”

“Aw, I ken, bonnie,” he says with a pout, eyebrows slanting down like he really, truly pities you, the gesture immediately contradicted by his next words. “Promise I’ll make it better. Wanna meet outside my truck in a half hour?”

You storm off before it comes to blows. Not that it’d ever be a fair fight. Johnny would probably hold you away with his palm against your head while you swung at him uselessly. You try not to think of that too often. Of him toying with you. Most of your interactions feel like that these days. Like he’s a big cat holding your tail down when you try to scramble away.

When you beg your manager to switch shift assignments, the look you get could wilt flowers. It’s not completely your fault, even if your request is a bit inconveniencing. Johnny has your coworkers and management so wrapped around his finger that no one can even hazard a guess as to why you might be uncomfortable around him.

It’s the only reason you haven’t complained to HR yet. There are channels and protocols for dealing with his behaviour, but watching people practically trip over themselves to please him reminds you that the likeliest outcome would be them transferring you to another store. It just doesn’t seem worth it.

You don’t think about how frazzled his words leave you for the rest of your shift. You don’t think about it because there’s nothing to think about.

You know from the second that your manager reassigns you to women’s apparel that you’ve probably made a mistake. Customers buzz around you like gnats, like swarms of flies, and it’s only natural that you’d be compelled to swat a few. You hold on to the fraying edges of your patience with little finesse. About halfway through your shift, you get a stern talking to from your floor supervisor and put on an extra long break. You’re no less irritated when you get back though, somehow still agitated and snappy.

Big hands clamp over your shoulders and squeeze like he’s giving you a massage, thumbs digging into the grooves of your upper back. He ignores the way you tense up.

“Hen, you’re making the customers uncomfortable with all your huffin’ and puffin’,” he whispers into your ear, a light chuckle falling out with his words. Amused by your attitude this time instead of ticked off. “If ye want, I could take ye ta the back room ta loosen ye up a bit. Make your day a little better. Dinnae think anybody will even notice if we dip away for a bit—’sides management will probably send me a gift basket if ye come back perky after a good shag.”

You shrug him off to go clock out, ignoring the way he chuckles as you storm off. No one knows if you go home and wear out the battery in your vibrator while thinking about Johnny’s words. Thinking about Johnny guiding you to his truck with a palm flat on your low back, pinkie teasing just under the waistband of your pants, before laying you out across the backseat and climbing on top of you.

You come when you think about how he’d have to keep the door open to fuck you in his car.

Unfortunately, you’re more than familiar with his sweet side as well.

On your birthday, he comes in early with a sheet cake and organizes the employees so that the breakroom is dark when you come in. The entire staff is there when you switch on the lights, shouting your name and happy birthday, decked out in party hats and blowing into noisemakers.

It catches you off guard. Hits you right in the solar plexus and leaves you winded. You stand in the middle of the room like you’re under a spotlight and that spotlight is Johnny’s stare burning a hole in your head. For once, it doesn’t rankle. It leaves you feeling light, feathery, like floating down to earth. A coworker hands you a noisemaker and you smile until your eyes crinkle when you blow into it.

You’re in a good enough mood that you don’t argue when he insists on sitting beside you. He got you the cake after all. Maybe it’s the least he deserves. Your goodwill lasts until Johnny tries to feed you a piece of cake with his fork; he winds up getting cake smushed all over your cheek when you turn your head away.

“Johnny, ‘m not a baby,” you complain, wrinkling your nose when cake and icing slide down your face. “I can feed myself. This is so gross.”

“Shucks, hen, lemme get that. Shouldnae have turned your head,” Johnny curses, leaning over to scoop it off with his fingers. He holds them out to you, an offering. “Here ye go, kitty.”

You stare, horrified, until he shrugs like ‘suit yourself’ and pops them into his own mouth. Then drags the same spit covered fingers over your cheek again to keep cleaning you up.

You can tell that it’s hopeless to complain by the way your coworkers giggle and gossip, eyes drawn to the two of you. Maybe it would be better if you were transferred. You only have so many ‘I’m not his work wife’s left in you. Something’s bound to give. You have a sneaking suspicion that it’s going to be you.

On the walk to your car after your shift, which Johnny insists on doing like he does every time the two of you work a closing shift together, he jokingly asks if you’ve gotten your birthday spanks. He says it in that same awkward joking tone, just a bit too excited, staring at you too eagerly. Unblinking. Tuts his tongue when you tell him you’ve never heard of that before.

You jolt and squeak at the pop on your ass when he insists on opening the door to your car and helping you in. The betrayed look you shoot him hardly penetrates through his shit-eating grin.

“See ye tomorrow, kitty,” Johnny calls out, walking backwards away from you to where his truck is parked just a few spots away from yours. You think he would’ve parked right next to you if you hadn’t chosen a spot conveniently between two other cars. “More where that came from.”

Your hands shake against the steering wheel your whole drive home. Dreading tomorrow’s shift.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap x you #soap/reader #ikea soap #soap cod #john mactavish #x reader

1K notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 10 months

Text

After the Fall

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 6,399

Summary: Bucky is your first love...your first everything so when things fall apart in college over a stupid misunderstanding you’re completely heartbroken but manage to move on...that is until your past comes back in a way you least expect it.

Author’s Note: When Bucky and reader are dating they are at least 18 and when they reconnect their age is up to you- but they are obviously adults. The type of jobs mentioned are also up to interpretation- it’s a business thing for sure but as far as details it’s up to you! I had this whole moodboard planned to show the progression from young Bucky to now but I suck at them so instead I stuck some pictures in the middle of the fic to give you an idea :) And the first pic is what he looks like now hehe 🥵Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Dividers by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some angsty parts over past events, both Bucky and reader have lots of feels, there’s soft fluff and sweetness, i-m-pl-ie-d s-e-x-y times, f-in-g-er-in-g, some light d-i-rt-y ta-lk, Bucky is delicious of course lol

You pace your apartment and try not to fiddle with your outfit any more than you already have. It’s only seven thirty am and you’ve been up since six. You still have an hour and a half before you have to meet with Steve for your first official day of work.

Maybe you should leave now…New York City public transportation can never be trusted. The office building is only a fifteen-minute train ride but just to be sure…

Twenty-five minutes later you find yourself sitting in the lobby of the large building, your face to your phone and your foot bouncing rapidly. Several people walk by and you barely notice them, keeping an eye on the time and carefully sipping your drink.

But then you hear heavy footsteps and a hushed voice, one that sounds almost familiar and just as you look up you catch the retreating back of a tall man, broad shouldered and with long dark hair neatly tied into a bun at the base of his neck.

You stare until he disappears inside the elevator, your whole-body tingling with awareness. Could it be your past has finally caught up with you after all this time? Or is it just the constant lingering feeling of what you never truly got over?

Just a coincidence. It has to be.

After several blinks you check your phone again and decide it’s time to head up to Steve’s office.

The receptionist outside his office greets you warmly before picking up the phone and letting Steve know you’re here.

You knock, even though you don’t have to, and wait until you hear Steve call you inside. When you open the door you notice he’s quietly speaking to someone and due to your sudden onset of nerves it doesn’t register that it’s the same man from earlier until he turns around and his ocean blue eyes meet yours.

Eyes you know. Eyes you had fell in love with a long time ago.

Your stomach plummets to your toes and you must look like a deer caught in headlights because Steve stands suddenly and rounds his desk.

“Are you ok?” Steve asks but your eyes are still glued to Bucky.

Steve calls your name and you finally look at him and swallow hard with a nod but your eyes flicker back to Bucky when he starts to move toward the door.

Bucky says something to Steve that you don’t register and already has one foot out the door before Steve stops him.

“Hey Buck, wait a second. I want to introduce you to our new executive assistant.”

Bucky stops short, still facing the hallway and slowly turns, plastering a fake smile on his face.

Steve gives him your name and you hold out a shaky hand.

The moment his skin touches yours you feel him over every inch of your body and a flood of memories assaults you, leaving you almost speechless.

“Bucky is my partner,” Steve says proudly.

You manage a small hello and quickly pull your hand back. Bucky looks away, nodding to Steve before leaving the office.

Steve’s eyebrows are drawn in with concern as he moves his gaze back to you.

“That was weird,” he mutters, studying you and you think he’s waiting for an explanation.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything,” you say softly.

“Not at all,” Steve answers with a warm smile. “Now come and sit. Let’s get you set up for your first day.”

You visibly relax and take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you’ve worked hard to get this position and you won’t let anything, not even your first boyfriend, your first love…your first everything, get in your way.

Thankfully the rest of your first day goes smoothly with no sign of Bucky and you have enough work to keep your brain busy and focused.

It’s when you get home, toe your heels off and fall onto the couch that the day catches up with you, breaking like a wave against the rocks and you sink deeper into the cushions with a groan.

Your cell rings, pulling your from your thoughts.

“Hey Nat,” you say tiredly as you greet your best friend.

“HOW WAS THE FIRST DAY?” she says, far too loudly.

You wince but a small smile pulls at your lips.

“It was great. Steve is so sweet and I was busy all day but kicked ass.”

“I knew it,” she says. “But I get the sense there’s more…”

She waits, always patient and far too perceptive.

“What do you mean more?” you ask, trying to sound easy and breezy.

“Babe,” she admonishes. “I can hear it in your voice.”

When you don’t elaborate she says, “I’m here and ready to listen when you want to talk.”

Her kind words are all you need to hear before you sigh heavily and blurt out, “Bucky works at the firm. He’s Steve’s partner.”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Nat?”

“Wow,” is all she says.

“I know.”

“Are you ok?” she asks, her voice tentative.

“I will be,” you answer, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Dare I ask…how did he look? It’s been so long!”

The image of him flashes in your mind but it’s blurry and mixed with the younger version of him you know from your past.

“Honestly, I don’t even know. I barely registered more than his eyes. I was in shock.”

“Understandable,” she says. “Want me to come over?”

“No but thank you. I’m just going to take a bath and go to bed. I have the rest of the week to get through.”

“Ok babe. Call me if you need me.”

“I will, thank you again.”

Once you have a warm bath running, bubbles dancing along the surface and the calming scent of lavender filling the space, you sink under the water, hoping to wash away the day and maybe even some of the past.

The phone at your desk rings and you answer with your well-practiced greeting, smiling when you hear Steve’s voice. He lets you know he’ll be out of the building most of the day, handling some meetings downtown and that Bucky will be here should you need anything.

You hang up and square your shoulders, refocusing on your computer screen and doing your best to push Bucky to the back of your mind.

It works until an hour before lunch when you get a notification for a meeting. The e-mail doesn’t give you many details, just a time and place to be. Silently praying it has nothing to do with Bucky you gather your lap top and bag and make your way to the top floor.

The office door is closed but you can hear voices and when you knock and hear Bucky say, “come in,” you instantly tense up.

He repeats the words and you finally find the strength to push open the door.

Three sets of eyes turn your way, only one of them familiar. The other two men openly admire you and you have to force yourself not to sneer at them.

Bucky must notice because he says, “gentleman if you don’t mind we have business to conduct.” His words are firm but harsh and the two other men clear their throats and look away to absentmindedly fix their ties.

You step inside, shutting the door behind you and sitting at the small conference table.

A shadow appears over you and you look up to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I need you to take minutes for the meeting and…”

The rest of his words fade away as you finally take a moment to get a good look at him. His voice is deeper now, his suit filled out with muscles he didn’t have when you were younger and his hair…his hair is long enough to brush his shoulders.

His presence is overwhelming, sending shockwaves through every nerve in your body and making them buzz with memories.

“You still with me?” Bucky asks, a cocky smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

You nod and look down at your computer.

The meeting lasts about an hour and you do your job perfectly regardless of the fact that your heart is in your throat and your stomach is in knots.

“Thanks gentleman,” Bucky says as the two men get up to leave.

They both glance your way again with matching smiles and one of them opens his mouth to speak but Bucky quickly interjects.

“Meetings over.”

They leave without another word and you and Bucky are alone in his office.

You can feel his eyes on you and when you look up at him his jaw is clenching and his eyes are hard.

“Small world, huh?.”

He grunts, which you take as an agreement.

“I didn’t know you were Steve’s partner,” you start, inwardly berating yourself for the quiver in your voice. “This was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

“I can tell you know what you’re doing,” he says, leaning over the table. “This is all strictly professional.”

“Right,” you agree.

He stares for a moment longer then dips his chin before saying, “I’m going to lunch. You can see yourself out.”

You’re left staring blankly at the empty space he just occupied, the silence he left behind deafening and filled with so many unspoken words.

“Better day today?” Nat asks, this time from the couch beside you.

“I sat in on a meeting Bucky was conducting.”

“Oo,” she says, pouring you more wine.

“He looks so good Nat. Even better than before and I didn’t think that was possible…his hair is long now.”

She lifts her eyebrow and smirks. “Better huh? Well, he must be losing his mind over you.”

You smile at her in thanks but shrug. “He couldn’t have left his office quicker if I had set him on fire,” you joke.

“Are you ever going to talk about what happened?” she asks, eyeing you from over the rim of her glass.

“What’s there to talk about? We were young. When we talked about going to different schools he made it sound so easy. We’d visit every weekend. Be together every break and talk every day on the phone. But then…things just happened.”

“What things?” she asks gently.

“I kept hearing from other friends that he was studying,” and you make air quotes with the word, “with some girl named Sharon from this classes. I never asked about it because I trusted him but then we both got busier and we had less time…he seemed distant, or maybe it was just me. Things started to fall apart. Then I met Matt…”

She smiles wryly at the mention of your ex.

“More wine please,” you say with huff.

The next two days go by without a hitch. Steve seems very pleased with your work so far and you start to settle into your role well.

However, things fall apart again when Friday rolls around and you’re standing in the hallway speaking to one of the gentleman, Brad, from the meeting earlier in the week. He found you on your way to the staff room and practically cornered you to introduce himself.

“So, you should come out with us tonight. It’s a good way to end the week,” Brad says.

He leans closer to you, into your personal space, and you take a step back just as Bucky rounds the corner.

Your back meets his chest and you lunge forward but you never get far because Bucky’s hands wrap around your waist and he hauls you back to him.

“Woah,” you say, freezing at the feel of his hands on you.

Brad laughs but it quickly fades when he sees the murderous look on Bucky’s face.

“What’s going on here?” Bucky asks. “Don’t you two have work to get done.”

Your mouth drops open with a sassy retort but Brad beats you to it.

“We just met in the hallway and I was inviting her to drinks tonight,” Brad says lightly.

Bucky turns his eyes to you. “I was just going to grab my lunch. It’s my break.”

Your tone is defensive and you lift your chin defiantly.

“That might not be the best idea,” Bucky starts, turning back to Brad with a smirk. “She’s a lightweight….one too many drinks and she might be…”

“Don’t finish that sentence Barnes,” you spit out.

Both Bucky and Brad look taken aback then Brad breaks the awkward stare down between you and Bucky with a question.

“Do you two know each other?”

Bucky keeps his eyes on you when he answers with, “will you excuse us Brad. We need a minute alone.”

Brad looks between the two of you. “Ok, no problem.” But before he walks away he says to you, “hope to see you tonight.”

Bucky glares at Brad’s back then gently takes your arm and hauls you down to the nearest office. He opens the door and ushers you inside.

“What is your problem?” you ask before he even shuts the door.

“Why were you talking to Brad?” he asks.

You groan and fist your hands at your sides.

“It’s just like he said. We met in the hallway and he asked me to come out for drinks tonight!”

Bucky grunts.

“What is it with all the grunting? And I can’t believe you were about to make some shitty comment about my drinking!”

His shoulders sag and his eyes soften slightly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that but….”

He growls and turns away from you.

“But you broke my heart doll!”

When he finally turns back your way there are tears shining in your eyes. At his words, at the use of the endearment he saved only for you and at the way he looks once again, like the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

“Yeah, well…you broke mine too,” you whisper as you look down at your feet.

You stand there in silence for what feels like forever before quietly saying. “We have to work together now. We can’t let our history be a problem. I want this job. I’ve worked hard for it.”

He scoffs and meets your gaze.

“Friends?” you ask, holding out your hand.

He stares at your outstretched hand but doesn’t’ take it as he steps incrementally closer.

“History?” Is that what you’re calling it?”

His voice is a growl, low and powerful.

“Bucky,” you try again.

“No doll. I can’t do friends with you. I know what you taste like when you come screaming my name.”

The memories wash over you, making your skin heat and your head dizzy. You’re reeling between feeling aroused and ashamed and angry.

“I’m not friends with people who give up on everything and bail for something new and shiny.”

His words hurt, hitting right where he wants them but you gather your strength and remind yourself that you’re here because you should be and what happened between you and Bucky has nothing to do with it.

“Seriously? It was so long ago, Bucky. Something tells me you haven’t been locked away and pining for me all this time.”

Your eyes slowly devour every inch of him. “No, I think you’ve been just fine without me.”

“See something you like doll face?” he murmurs.

He stands up straight and tall, crossing his arms over his chest and causing the fabric of his suit jacket to pull tightly at his bulging biceps and his long legs are spread wide as he smiles sardonically.

You can’t stop your gasp before it passes your lips. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he mocks.

You don’t want to answer his question because it’s true. You do like it. More than you want to admit.

His long hair curls at his shoulders, neatly styled and framing a sharp jawline that’s lined with dark scruff, some spots even peppered with gray. His full lips are soft and kissable and his hands…you know what those hands are capable of. Long fingers that are now adorned with rings, the shining gold glinting under the bright lights of the office and drawing your attention, spread wide over his arms.

It’s suffocating but you can’t stop your blatant perusal.

Your eyes drop to his long legs and what’s between them, his suit pants straining against what’s behind his zipper, the thick cock that stretched you for the first time.

His smile is filled with arrogance as it widens into a grin and his gaze sears you, rooting you in place as he leisurely looks his fill.

“I certainly like what I see,” he says, licking his lips. “But none of that matters any more, right? Old news.”

“I won’t let you ruin this opportunity for me,” you tell him, willing your voice to stay even. “And I know Steve suspected something was up when I walked in the first day so don’t…”

“I already told Steve we have a past but don’t worry I didn’t tell him all the shitty details,” Bucky retorts. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He stands there with an expectant look on his face.

“Are you waiting for a thank you!” you almost shout. “I can’t believe it.”

You see his mouth opening to interrupt you, but you hold up a staying hand.

“Let’s just agree to be professional so we can do our jobs.”

You take a step around him but he blocks your way, his body large and imposing in the small space and when he leans down, his breath tickling your ear, and whispers, “I’ll see you on Monday then,” an involuntary shiver shoots down your spine.

He meets your eyes, his own sparkling with the same desire you know is in yours then reaches around you to open the door.

With a rush you shoot down the hallway and back to your office, silently praying no one caught you coming out of the room.

Once you’re safely inside with the door shut, you lean against it and finally let out a shuddering breath, swiping at your eyes.

“I’m exhausted,” you explain to Nat after telling her about the events of the day. “Even if I had wanted to go I would be asleep on the bar in minutes.”

“Well, just don’t let him dictate your social life. You have every right to go out and relax with coworkers. Especially cute ones. And you know I’ll come with you if you want.”

Nat’s words bring a smile to your face. “Thank you. Let’s just hope I can make it through next week.”

Later that night, after trying and failing to find something to watch that will keep your attention you crawl into bed and dream.

Your laid back on his bed as his stubble scratches along the sensitive skin of your neck and his whispered words reach your ears.

“You want my cock doll?”

You moan out his name, arching beneath him.

“Tell me.”

“Yes, yes I want your cock Bucky,” you purr.

His chuckle vibrates along your stomach as he moves lower. “Just need a taste first.”

“Please,” you beg just before his tongue flicks over your clit.

You push your hips into his face and he growls in approval.

“More,” you demand, and he obliges as one thick finger teases your opening.

You wake up just before he fills you, panting and disoriented. Looking around your dark room you can barely remember where you are. Or when. The past mixing with the present and creating something dangerous.

Your arousal is evident in the stickiness of your panties and you squeeze your thighs together in search of some relief. You sit up and take a sip of water from the glass on your nightstand, wishing it would quench more than your thirst. You consider finishing yourself off, it won’t take much, and he’ll never know, but you will.

Monday morning arrives faster than you’d like and you find yourself dragging your heels, literally, into the office.

You see Bucky in a meeting later that day and you notice him glancing your way several times, words and thoughts and emotions crossing over his face but you can’t decipher them.

The problem is you feel the same way. Confused and unsure…well maybe not unsure about everything. You definitely want him but that’s a line you know you shouldn’t cross, especially after the harsh words you exchanged last week.

The meeting ends and so does the day. And the next and the next until it’s Friday. It’s past five pm and you’re still in your office working on something for Steve. He pops his head in and tells you to leave but you wave him off and explain you’d rather get it done now and relax this weekend. He bids you goodbye once you promise not to stay too late.

You’re in the middle of a thought when the door opens again and without looking up you say, “don’t worry Steve, I should only be another hour then I promise I’ll go home.”

“Another hour and it will be dinner time.”

You look up at the sound of Bucky’s voice, your eyes wide and your lips lightly spread with surprise.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Thought you were Steve.”

He smiles and for the first time you can tell it reaches his eyes.

“I’m going to be done at about the same time…dinner?”

You stare at him, not sure if you heard him right.

“Unless you had other plans toni…”

“No,” you interrupt. “I don’t and uh dinner sounds good. I’m starving actually.”

“Great, then I’ll see you in an hour. There’s this little noodle place we can walk to from here.”

You smile gratefully, waiting until the door shuts behind him to let out a whoosh of air.

“I don’t see a table,” you say as you look around Bucky into the restaurant.

He grabs your hand and you ignore the tingles that shoot up your arm as he drags you through the place. In the back corner, there’s a lone table, small but empty.

He holds his arm out, gesturing for you to sit. “I usually come hide in the back here if I have work to do but need food,” he explains.

You sit and he follows, plopping down across from you. The table’s so small that his knees bump yours underneath.

“Ow,” you hiss.

“Shit, sorry doll,” he mumbles as he moves his chair, bringing him closer to your side.

“I forgot how big your are.”

Your eyes go wide as you hear your own words come out of your mouth.

“Man doll face, you sure know how to hurt a guy’s feelings.”

His tone is light and teasing but you look down, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fidget with your hands and try not to remember exactly how big he really is.

Thankfully the waitress stops by to ask for your drink order. Once you tell her what you want you sit quietly and peek over at Bucky.

He looks nervous and for some reason it makes you feel better.

You both start to speak at the same time then laugh over your jumbled words.

“Go ahead doll,” he says.

“I was going to remind you of how much we used to talk. Remember all those nights we stayed up late either on the phone or hanging out in our favorite spot on the roof.”

His eyes sparkle at the thought. “Of course I remember. There never seemed to be enough time.”

The waitress reappears with your drinks and sets them down.

“Still like that whiskey huh?” Bucky teases. “I remember the first time you tried whiskey.”

“Oh gosh, I try not to,” you groan.

He suddenly looks sad. “I’m sorry about that comment last week…about the drinking. And about most of what I said. It was harsh. It’s just. This is hard,” and he gestures between the two of you.

“I get it. Believe me.”

“What happened to us?” you say after taking a sip of your drink.

“So much,” he responds. “But I feel…”

His words are interrupted when the waitress appears with your food. You take a few bites, focusing on chewing and swallowing as you muster up the courage to say the next words.

“I never gave up on us,” you start, your voice pained. “I never bailed…I heard so many things…people were talking.”

“What did you hear?” he asks, his fork held tightly between his fingers. “What are you talking about?”

“People were telling me you were with Sharon all the time…studying…and I wasn’t sure what else. You pulled back, we talked less…I don’t know it just didn’t feel the same. I was losing you.”

“Losing me?!” he says, far too loudly for the space. He squeezes his eyes shut then continues, his voiced hushed but still angry. “I was just trying to keep my grades up. I was struggling. I missed you so much and I couldn’t handle it. My grades slipped and the idea of you thinking I was a failure was too much on top of everything else. Sharon was just helping me. Nothing ever happened between us.”

You stare at him, your eyes glassy as they fill with unshed tears. “I don’t understand. When I asked you to come visit so we could talk…you…you were so hesitant, I thought it was because you were going to break up with me and then…you never showed.”

“I did. I did show,” he says quietly. “But you were with Matt.”

“What?” you gasp. “When? How come you didn’t tell me?”

“I was too ashamed. I figured you had moved on to someone better, someone who was able to keep their shit together and I didn’t want to mess that up for you.”

“Bucky,” you whisper. “I wasn’t with Matt. We were just friends.”

“But it didn’t stay that way,” he says, his tone accusatory.

“No. But that wasn’t until I knew it was over for us. I was completely heartbroken and it never worked out with Matt. He couldn’t get over the fact that I was still in love with you.”

That knocks the wind out of him and the two of you sit there, staring and uncertain.

He abruptly stands, knocking into the table. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“What?” you screech as he grabs your hand. “There isn’t even any music. This is a restaurant!?”

You don’t fight him as he tugs you away from the table and to the other side of the small room and when you spot the jukebox you can’t help the smile forming on your lips.

“I should have known you’d take me to a place with one of these,” you laugh.

He looks over his shoulder and winks before he starts scrolling through the songs. He stops on one but you can’t see the name then presses a few more buttons before he takes your hand again and pulls you to him.

The music starts and you almost stumble into him, recognizing the melody immediately.

“Your favorite,” he says quietly, drinking you in with his eyes.

You sway together and he spins you slowly, his hand teasing along your lower back. He takes your hand and lays your palm against his chest as you move back and forth. It’s not really dancing, more like you’re pressed together, shifting on your feet.

When you move your fingers across his chest you feel his sharp intake of breath. Your eyes trace the movements as your hand spans his broad chest then grazes over the gold chain peeking out from the open buttons of his shirt.

“I like all this,” you say quietly, pressing the chain into his skin before you glance at the rings on his fingers.

“Glad to hear it doll,” he rumbles, looking far too pleased.

Your hand slides to his bicep and he flexes, smirking when you look up at him through your lashes.

“When do you have time to work out?” you whisper into the small space between you as your gaze wanders over his arms.

“Early in the morning,” he answers. “And you should see the rest of me.”

Need rumbles through his voice and you look up to meet his eyes.

“Bucky…”

He kisses you before you can finish the thought, stealing your breath. You freeze for a single heartbeat and then kiss him back with everything you have.

“Fuck doll.”

He wraps his arms around you tighter, pulling you against him and you lean into him willingly, a moan vibrating through you. His hand slips around to cup your throat, his thumb brushing over your jaw as he tilts your head back, deepening the kiss.

The music stops and you hear a few catcalls from some random guys at another table. It breaks the spell and you take a step back.

You start to panic and he can tell, his hands tightening at your waist.

“Doll…”

“No, we can’t.”

“Yes we fucking can,” he answers back. “We’re adults and we can do whatever the fuck we want. And make no mistake,” he continues, grasping your chin between his thick fingers to force your eyes to his, “I want you.”

You audibly swallow and sway into him. He holds you close, his eyes wandering over your face expectantly.

“I just…I panicked. I need a minute,” you admit.

He visibly relaxes and slides his knuckles along your curves to find your hand before taking it in his and pulling you toward the door.

“Where are we going?” you ask once you’re outside.

“I’m walking you home,” he says quietly, not letting go of your hand. “Just like when we were kids.”

You smile and press closer to him, loving the feel of his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The walk is mostly silent as your mind races to find the right words. You want this. Want him. But is it too much too quickly? It’s been so long but even so your body remembers him, has his touch memorized and seared into your skin and your heart…your heart has been full of him since the day you met.

When you reach your apartment building you stop. “This is me.”

He waits patiently for you to speak but when you don’t he asks, “so now what?”

“I want this. You. Us. I never stopped wanting it,” you confess. “But we’ve both hurt each other and I think we need to take it slow.”

“I’ll do whatever you want if it means you’re willing to give this a chance,” he answers. “But I can’t promise I’ll behave…I’ve been dreaming about being inside you for far too long and my hand just ain’t cutting it doll.”

You bite your lip, desire written all over your face even as you try to shoot him an admonishing glare.

“But we’ll start with a date,” he says softly. “And I know just where I’m gonna take you.”

With a small nod you lean forward and kiss the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering on the taste of his skin before you pull away and move from his embrace.

“Tomorrow?” he asks. “Or too soon?”

“Tomorrow,” you repeat.

“HE KISSED YOU?” Nat screeches and you have to move the phone away.

You’re nodding before you realize she can’t see you.

“Yes, right there in the middle of the noodle place.”

“Well?”

“Well what?” you ask.

“How was it?”

You sigh almost dreamily. “Better than I remember which I didn’t think was possible.”

“And you’re sure you’re ok with this?”

“I’m feeling so much but the thing I’m feeling most is the fact that I want him. I’m hoping it’s more than a physical thing. It feels more than that because to be completely honest I never stopped loving him.”

“I’m glad you’re giving this a chance,” Nat says. “Just go at a pace that makes you comfortable.”

“So I should have sex with him tomorrow…? Because I’m perfectly comfortable.”

You can hear Nat’s snicker. “Girl, if you do I better get every dirty detail.”

You giggle and cover your mouth, feeling lighter than you have in weeks.

“Just keep them closed ok?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and hold tightly to his hand, stepping on the backs of his feet several times as he leads you to your date spot.

“Sorry Buck,” you laugh.

“It’s ok doll, just another few steps.”

You hear something metal creak open and then a blast of cool air hits your face. He throws his arm around your shoulder and tucks you into his side.

“Ok, open your eyes.”

You’re met with a scene that takes your breath away. It’s both familiar and new, the old roof top a space you frequented when you were younger but now it’s been brought to life in a whole new way.

Soft string lights hang from a make shift canopy where underneath you see a small chaise lounge that’s covered in a plush blanket and cocooned by fluffy pillows.

“Oh Bucky,” you gush. “You did all this?”

He smiles and kisses your forehead. “I remember how much you loved it up here.”

“It’s beautiful. All of it.”

“I have one last thing to show you. C’mere.”

He pulls you along with him and pauses near the old fire escape.

“Close your eyes,” he orders again, slipping his hands over them from behind.

You laugh and reach up to hold his wrists, fiddling with the gold bracelet that dangles loosely there. “What are you doing?”

“This,” he whispers along the shell of your ear.

He moves his hands from your eyes and you gasp and cover your mouth, but then reach out, tracing one finger over the etched lines in the metal.

Your initials are carved neatly into the rusted metal, still standing out against the weathered material after all this time.

You spin in his arms, your eyes falling to his lips just as you lick your own, his eyes tracking the movement.

“Thank you Bucky.”

And then you kiss him. He grabs your face gently between his large hands, nipping at your lower lip and you open for him without hesitation. You press into him and he slides his hands down your back, brushing his thumbs over the sides of your breasts.

You whimper his name, moving your lips to his neck to trace down the muscular column.

“Fuck,” he groans as he walks you back toward the chaise lounge. With a spin he sits down and pulls you into his lap, your thighs on either side of his.

You pull back, your eyes bright and your lips swollen.

“You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your whispered thanks gets lost in the moment as he dips his head and drags his nose along your skin, inhaling softly.

“Whatever you want doll. Anything, nothing. Say the word and it’s yours.”

His words are rough even as his hands move delicately to caress your body.

You lean forward, softly kissing along his jawline toward his ear, your breath fanning his skin when he squeezes your ass.

“Touch me.”

“Touch you where doll? You want me to fill you with my fingers?” You want my mouth. I’ll lick up every last drop of whatever you wanna give me.”

You tremble in his arms, tugging at the button down that hangs loosely over his shoulders, your fingers splaying over his exposed skin as he shrugs it off. You rake your nails over his tight white tank, desperate for more of him but instead he tucks his fingers under your shirt and pulls it up and off.

His large hand covers your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple through your bra and you arch your back, pushing your chest into his face.

Your hips rock, rubbing up and down over the hard ridge of his cock.

“I’m gonna come in my pants if you don’t stop that baby doll.”

You don’t stop. Can’t. And when his fingers pop open the button of your pants you grind down even harder, needing more.

His fingers move lower and he hisses at the softness of your skin before he finds you soaked and ready for him.

“Yes,” you breathe out. “More.”

“Right here?” he teases, lightly brushing his finger over your clit.

He spreads your juices all over you, coating his fingers and your skin until you’re completely wild for him, writhing as you try to fuck his hand.

Two thick fingers sink inside you, his rings hitting your skin as he meets every one of your thrusts, going faster and harder when you mewl for more with every stroke.

“Bucky. I’m gonna come,” you warn.

“Come for me doll. Come all over my fingers. Squeeze me tight.”

His words send you careening over the edge and you cry out his name but he doesn’t stop the slow pumping of his fingers, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.

You collapse against him, your head laying along his shoulder. His skin is warm and soft beneath your cheek and you can’t help but press your lips there. You spasm on his fingers once more before he slowly pulls them free and brings them between you, staring at the glistening proof of what he does to you.

With a predatory gleam in his eyes he holds you gaze and pushes his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean one by one.

“Fuck doll, you’re so sweet. I almost forgot how good you taste.”

You turn your face to his as your fingers tip toe down his chest, catching on the gold chain that rests against his warm skin, before moving lower.

“What about you?”

He rests his hands over yours, stopping you from undoing the button of his jeans.

“Not yet baby doll. I want to at least give you a real date first.”

“Are you being all gentlemanly now?” you pout. “We’ve had sex up here before.”

“I’ll fuck this pussy anywhere and anytime you’ll let me, but you want to go slow and this is more than just fucking. It always has been. When I get back inside you, it’ll be because we’ve worked through all this shit for good, all the shit that never should have gotten in our way. And there won’t be any going back. You’ll be mine again.”

Even though you always have been.

@sstan-hoe @lookiamtrying @hallecarey1 @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @late-to-the-party-81 @randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @sebstanwhore @book-dragon-13 @littleseasiren @justkinsey @beccablogsthings @laineyreads

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

2K notes · View notes

aestheticpearl · 1 year

Note

Can you do one and they surprise Y/N by coming home early from a mission? Xx

hello again my love, i apologize for how long this took forgive me <3

— ‘oh you’re back…YOU’RE BACK!’

characters. rooster, hangman, phoenix, bob, payback, fanboy, coyote

themes. fluff

[summary] they surprise you by coming home early from their deployment

[warnings] not proof read (i’m lazy)

❥ bradley “rooster” bradshaw

it had been a whole day since bradley had last texted you and he had missed your routine phone call that is always scheduled for seven so needless to say you were worried. you texted him asking if he meant to miss the phone call and he only responded a hour later with ‘busy.’ which provided no comfort whatsoever.

you were doing your best to distract yourself by folding laundry when you came across one of his old sleep shirts. it was a concert tee that he had gotten at the first concert you went to as a couple, you could help but stare at it for a little too long when your eyes started pooling with tears. gosh why is being always from him is long still so hard? you should be use to it.

“we should go to another one of their concerts, i still really like their music” you know that voice, you body moves on it’s own as you turn away to see him standing there smiling like an absolute idiot at you in the doorway.

“surprise!” he drops his bag and opens his arms for you and you happily run into him, only crying a little totally not sobbing. “aww baby you miss me that much?”

“you missed our scheduled phone call you dick” you laughs at your remark.

“i was hoping this would make up for it”

“only a little” he shakes his head and holds your face in his hands while you kisses you.

“i missed you”

“okay you’re forgiven” you are a sucker for coming home kisses.

❥ jake “hangman” seresin

exhausted didn’t even begin so describe how you felt after your shift at work, it’s like there isn’t even a busy season it’s just always busy. you open the front door after struggling with the lock for longer than you care to admit, it’s empty since jake is still deployed over seas. you throw your bag and jacket on the couch and it responds with an oof.

“shh i have a headache” you responded without thinking too tired to register that your couch just talked— well made sound not really talked per say. wait couches don’t talk. “wait..”

“did you just shush me?” jake asks turning on the light next to the couch. you turn around and try to process the fact that he’s here in the house like right now with you not over seas. you run to him and basically pin him down to the couch with your body as you hug him tightly.

“you’re home. you’re here like actually here” you say burying your face into his neck.

“thought it would be a nice surprise. i’m a little concerned on how long it took you to register that someone was in the house though.”

“long day, you’ve made it so worth it”

“aww pumpkin” he kisses you gently while you hold his face. “i missed you too”

❥ natasha “phoenix” trace

you never realize how much you hang out with someone till they’re gone and you know that sounds like natasha is dead, but she might as well be she you don’t get to see her. honestly it sucks having an amazing pilot as a girlfriend cause she’s always busy when deployed cause she’s the best. curse her incredible skill and hard work.

as sappy as it sounds you love looking through your photos with her when she’s away, sure it makes you feel sad but also makes you look forward to seeing her again. when she’s away you like to try to plan a date for when she gets home and when she told you that she’d be coming home in a couple of months you wanted to getting started sooner rather than later.

so after you come home from your quick trip to the store you find natasha standing in the house with flowers in hand smiling that beautiful smile right at you and at first you’re truly too stunned to speak.

“surprised much?” she places the flowers down on the table beside her. “i just missed you so much i had to come home early” you’re still in shock, then you snap yourself out of it and run into her arms.

“i am so surprised, i missed you so much”

you hugs her tightly and you both fall into a comfortable silence once she kisses the side of your head. until you break it with a gasp.

“i didn’t have time to get all the ‘welcome home’ date stuff” she laughs.

“i can wait a little longer for the ‘welcome home’ date”

❥ robert “bob” floyd

bob is awful at keeping secrets and even worse at executing surprises but he was determined to have this surprise for you be successful, so much so that he had natasha get you out of the house just a little so he could set up flowers he bought down the street and some romantic candles.

you were a tiny bit confused on why natasha asked you to go grocery shopping with her but you had nothing else to do and you love her company so you didn’t mind in the end. little did you know that natasha had to make up an excuse to get you out of the house for at least and hour or two so bob could set up and the first thing that came to her mind was grocery shopping. she didn’t need to go grocery shopping yet here she was standing with you in the produce section wondering which apples to get.

“so granny smith? no no macintosh” you roll your eyes. you love hanging out with natasha but she was really hung up on which apple to buy and it had almost been a half hour.

“nat, it’s an apple”

“okay but they’re all so different” she replies back praying in the back of her mind that bob is almost done and by the grace of the almighty she receives a text for the all clear.

“you know you’re right this is a waste of time who needs food let’s go” she takes your arm and drags you out of the store entirely to your surprise.

“wait what i thought you needed to—”

“let me bring you home” you are baffled at your friends out of character actions but let her do her thing anyhow. when you get home your jaw is on the floor with everything that bob has set up.

“ta da! how’d i do? i kept a secret for once.” he smiles at you happily. you run into his arms and hug him tightly.

“oh my god baby you actually surprised me” he laughs and kisses you gently while waving off phoenix who was standing in the doorway.

❥ reuben “payback” fitch

reuben wanted to see how long you could go without noticing that he was home, not one of his brightest ideas really specially since you had just watched a horror movie the previous night.

he arrived back early in the morning and unlocked the door to your house quietly and went to the hall closet to put his things out of sight so you wouldn’t see them and instantly realize he was home. before long he heard you wake up start to make your way downstairs. he carefully placed down some flowers in the kitchen table and hide behind the door.

you woke up with an awful headache and just felt in your bones that today wasn’t going to be good, nevertheless you walked downstairs to the kitchen to make some breakfast alone. being half asleep you didn’t even notice the roses placed on the table until you turned around and reuben was behind you.

the scream you let out could’ve broken glass.

“baby baby relax it’s just me!”

“REUBEN!” you tried to calm your breathing. “i am going to kill you”

“i’m sorry i’m sorry!” he feels awful but he can’t help but laugh at your reaction a bit. “baby i’m sorry” his hand takes yours as you scowl at him. he kisses your cheek multiple times while apologizing.

“you are so lucky that i missed you”

❥ mickey “fanboy” garcia

believe it or not mickey decided against surprising you in a big way, he was far too tired. when mickey got home to you it was very late at night and he just wanted to hold you. placing his bag quietly down on the edge of the bed, he stripped off his uniform and glances over to you sleeping soundly in bed.

“my love” he whispers softly has you feel him climb into bed with you.

“mickey?” your voice is scratchy then you expected.

“hey baby” he pulls you into his arms. “i’m sorry i took so long” he kisses the side of your head and then your nose.

“i missed you”

“i missed you too, now go back to sleep you can process that i’m here in the morning”

“mmm okay” you feel sleep take hold of you once again as you close your eyes. you think about how mickeys finally home and a warmth spreads across your chest. he’s home with you.

you move your hand to hold mickeys and squeeze it gently before kissing it softly. he chuckles quietly.

“goodnight honey”

❥ javy “coyote” machado

“javy?”

“ta da!” javy stands in the doorway with his arm opened.

“javy!” you shout booking it across the living room into his opened arms. “you’re back so early!”

“i wanted to surprise you of course” he squeezes you tightly and takes in your scent.

“you smelling me again weirdo?”

“..no” you laugh at his hesitation. javy has always had this weird thing about how you smell, he says it’s comforting and he wishes it was a candle that he could light. you call him a weirdo.

“you weirdo!”

“okay okay, yes but i missed you and you smell amazing!” you chuckle at him.

“i missed you too” he pulls away to look at you and moves some hair out of your face to kiss you gently. his kisses always have made you feel weightless. gosh you missed his kisses so much and him i guess.

before you can be completely lost in your own thoughts javy scoops you up to take you to the bedroom so you can show him how much you truly missed his kisses.

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

2K notes · View notes

gretavanfleetposts · 7 months

Text

Fire in the Water: Chapter One

Summary: You had thought dating a vampire would be the most complicated thing you'd ever done. But as it turns out, becoming one is even more complicated. The boys are determined to make your transformation as smooth as possible while each fighting to maintain the relationships they once had and those they now lust for. Author's Note: As always, I'd like to thank the lovely @gretasmokerising for inspiring me and encouraging me and @earthlysorrows for editing and helping me piece everything together/brainstorm Content Warnings: swearing, talk of blood, mentions of death and killing, mentions of sex but no actual sex yet (18+ minors do not interact) Word Count: 9k

Add Yourself to the Taglist

How you had gone about meeting a vampire, you weren’t entirely certain. And how you had gone from simply meeting that vampire to dating him was even more beyond you. But one thing was for certain: you had fallen in love with him, irrevocably.

Maybe you should have been more wary about giving yourself over to him so freely but there was just something about Josh that had pulled you in and kept you there. You had later learned that was his gift as a vampire: he could manipulate moods. It was sort of an unconscious thing, not exactly something he could control. You felt certain it was just him though. That was just Josh. He could light up any room he walked into; of course people felt drawn to him.

He just so happened to drink blood to survive. A minor detail, really.

“You’re not nervous, are you?” he asked from the driver’s side of his sedan. His arm stretched over the center console, letting his fingers wind through yours.

“I’m not sure I could be nervous around you even if I had the good sense to be.”

Josh smiled that typical toothy grin, complete with rosy cheeks and bobbing curls, the one that had ignited your feelings for him in the first place.

“Remind me to coax some good sense into you one of these days,” he joked.

You had heard tales of Josh’s brothers over the months the two of you had been together but this would be your first introduction. Josh seemed equal parts excited and hesitant despite it being obvious they were a large part of his life, having spent centuries by his side. You had to meet them at some point. But you felt far less nervous, at least less so in the department that his worries occupied. You had your own attachment to death, primarily in the way of loss, and while Josh had spent centuries by his family's side, you hadn't been so lucky. Now, it was family that you craved, almost as much as you craved Josh.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” you asked as Josh sped down the winding road shrouded by dense trees and thick forest. That was where he called his home, somewhere in the mountains outside of Seattle where the rain was constant and the clouds did their best to cover the Kiszka family secret.

“I think they’ll love you.” He let his eyes drift from the road over to yours to give you a reassuring smile that he might have needed more than you did.

Like you said, you were no stranger to death. Although, usually when the people around you died, they stayed dead.

You almost couldn't believe your eyes when he finally pulled into the long, narrow driveway and parked just outside of the garage to the home. It was a structure made almost entirely out of glass, the large and likely expensive antique decor visible from the outside. It was no wonder they lived so deep into the woods: less people around to observe their not-so-normal lives through the thin glass walls.

Josh opened the passenger side door for you before you had time to register the sound of his own door clicking open and shut.

“God, your house is magnificent. You really shouldn’t have brought me; I may just move in.” You took his arm as you stood from the car, noting the movement by the front door. A pair of vampires stood just inside looking eager to meet you as they helped one another adjust their hair and collars.

“That can be arranged,” Josh whispered, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

He led you toward the house, the door opening just steps before you reached it. Inside, you saw the pair you’d watched through the glass, a man and a woman who, to be completely honest, might have been two of the most beautiful people you'd ever laid eyes on.

"Y/n, meet my only non-related brother Daniel and his partner Adele."

"Oh, it's so good to meet you!” Adele greeted you boldly, throwing her arms around you for a quick, tight squeeze. “Always women coming and going but none ever staying."

She was gorgeous, to say the very least. And the man standing next to her paired well with her too, matching her in stature and beauty. They were both tall and lean with dark eyes and dark hair, hers cascading in long waves down her back, his coiled tightly up by his shoulders. And even though you knew how easily they could kill you, they each had twinkling eyes that when cast upon you made you feel like the only person in the room.

"God, you're beautiful," you blurted out. The words never even traveled to your brain until they exited your mouth and you heard them spoken aloud, met with a sea of laughter from the vampires surrounding you. "I'm so sorry," you stammered, "I don't usually say things like that out loud."

"It's fine," Adele said with a wink that had no small effect on you. "That'd be the gift."

"Irresistible," her partner clarified, squeezing her into his side and nipping at her earlobe.

You noticed it right away, just how forward they were. It was hard to ignore. But what was even less subtle wasn't the way his hands clung to her waist, but the way that he looked at her. It was like she was the only thing he saw.

"Just means I'm good at luring humans to their death," she added herself with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Not that we all don't do just fine," Josh quipped.

“You can call me Danny,” Adele's partner said, looking as though he were going to reach across the space between you to shake your hand. But instead, you found yourself swiftly pulled into another tight hug, feet lifting from the ground easily as he engulfed you.

Before you knew what was happening, he was placing you back down onto the ground, his nose lingering near your hair only for a fraction of a second.

“Fuck, you smell good,” he huffed, pulling back with a smile that only grew as he watched you practically dodge out of his grip and back into the safety of Josh's arms.

“Uh thanks,” you mumbled awkwardly.

They were shockingly without restraint although perhaps it was naive to have expected anything else. And despite the forces in your body screaming at you to recognize the danger you were in, his smile somehow warmed your suddenly cool barrier.

You cleared your throat. "Are you irresistible too?"

This time, he let out a hearty laugh, a sound that was easily one of the more beautiful that had graced your ears in the span of your life.

"No, that’s just my natural good looks,” Danny smiled down at you. “I can see the future."

"Really?" you asked, suddenly intrigued rather than startled.

“It’s subjective,” Josh chimed in. “He can only see the path you’re on while you’re on it.”

“We should stay on this path. I think you’ll enjoy it.” Danny gave you a wink before pulling Adele into his side who let a quiet, “Indeed,” fall from her lips.

It was hard to gauge exactly what they had meant by it, though their looks certainly were suggestion enough at what they might’ve been hinting at. Regardless, Josh seemed to think nothing of it. Their…antics must have been a common occurrence.

"Where's Jake?" he asked, already guiding you down the long entryway that ran into the heart of the house.

"He's…occupied," Danny answered.

"Jake lives in the guest house,” Josh explained, turning back to you. “It's easier for him.”

"What do you mean 'easier'?" Walking and talking at the same time, you took the house in, surprisingly brightly lit and not at all what you had been expecting for a bunch of vampires. Of course, they could walk around in the daylight, the only proof of their immortality being the glittering of their skin beneath the sun. But still, it seemed almost too full of life with the glass and the leafy greenery that surrounded you.

"He can feel people's emotions. Manipulate them too, like I can, but much more powerfully. My gifts aren’t really intentional but he can make people feel whatever he wants. The only downside is that when it comes to feeling everything around him, it can be quite strong, especially when you live with four other vampires who feel things much more intensely than humans.” Josh pushed forward as he spoke, making his way down the hallway that opened into a large kitchen filled to the brim with greenery that survived in the seemingly greenhouse-like room. “The distance helps him quiet his mind a little. Plus, he has women over every night and the volume tends to get…loud. It’s like a brothel in here sometimes."

It was in the kitchen that you met the second brother, having come bounding down an open staircase off one corner of the kitchen looking even more dreamy than the last pair of people you had met.

"Thought I smelled the human." His voice was smooth and even and he wore his hair longer than Josh or even Danny, looking something like a modern-day Jesus who had mastered the art of disheveled.

He was breathtaking, just like the others. Maybe even more-so, somehow.

"My dear, this is Sam."

Josh gestured to his brother standing before you, prompting you to reach your hand out to greet him, hopefully a much more civilized greeting than you’d gotten from Danny and Adele.

"It’s nice to meet you," you said with a weary smile, waiting for something outlandish and over the top. But Sam only glanced down at your hand, making no move to take it. Really looking uninterested entirely. It seemed almost worse than the greetings you’d gotten from the others.

"Better keep a close eye on her, Josh,” he said instead, addressing his brother. “She smells quite good."

Without another word, Sam passed you and left out a door behind you, leaving you with nothing to do but stare at his much kinder brother awaiting an explanation. Although, that explanation didn’t come from the direction you were expecting it.

"You can ignore him,” the disembodied voice said. “He's not always in the best of moods. Likes to make it everyone else's problem."

You turned toward where Sam had left to see the twin Josh had told you about, although he and Josh hardly shared much in the way of resemblance when you took in hair and dress. He seemed like Josh’s complete opposite and a little more akin to the vampires you had pictured back when you were still under the assumption they were nothing but fairytales. And though you felt an immediate pang of guilt stab your gut when the thought filled your head, you couldn’t help it. He was ethereal.

"I'm Jake, the cool one." He outstretched his hand and spoke in a somewhat gravelly voice, like it had been exerted somehow though you weren’t sure that could happen to vampires.

You said nothing as you took his hand, unable to form even a single coherent thought or sentence, quite shamefully. And to your horror, it seemed to bring a smile to his face as you stood there stupidly silent.

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you nervous,” he chuckled. “I can fix that if you'd like."

There was a hint of that same suggestion you’d seen in Danny’s eyes although Jake seemed far better with subtlety. But Josh quickly pushed his twin away, severing the contact of your skin against his far too abruptly for your liking.

"No using your gifts on her unless she asks," he reprimanded his brother.

"Well, sometimes it's involuntary," Jake quipped back, his eyes never leaving yours.

You seemed to remember yourself in the sudden silence and cleared your throat.

"I can regulate my own emotions but thank you." You answered his non-question with a polite smile, hopefully a convincing diffusion of the tension you had accidentally created.

"Oh, humans can rarely regulate their own emotions," Jake teased with a smug laugh.

"Oh, are vampires good at it?" you asked, tone laced with sarcasm knowing fully that vampires were notoriously bad at just that, according to Josh anyway.

It prompted a burst of laughter from the twin, finally dropping the look on his face that read like he maybe wanted to eat you. Or fuck you. It was hard to distinguish on a vampire.

Josh’s shoulders seemed to relax then, like he’d been waiting for some sign of Jake’s approval of you and that had been it. It eased you as well, knowing at least someone in the house approved of you.

"I was explaining to her why you live in the guest house."

"You wouldn't believe how annoying Sam and his emotions are,” Jake rolled his eyes. “Although I must say, your emotions are quite strong for a human."

"Is that bad?" you asked curiously.

You weren’t certain it came as a surprise. You knew your emotions were on the more volatile side, especially since the death of your parents less than a year prior. But Josh hadn’t quite seen that side of you yet; he was a natural stifle, keeping you calm without even meaning to.

"It's interesting," Jake answered rather cryptically. Maybe he didn’t know what it meant.

“It’s fine,” Josh assured you instead, rubbing his hands over your biceps. “Nothing to worry about.”

"Must be a very full house of vampires," you said instead in an effort to turn the focus from you and whatever might have been wrong with you.

"Well, Josh isn't the only one with a preference for humans," Jake corrected with a wink.

"Aren't you worried they'll tell people what you are?"

A smirk grew wide in his face, utterly mischievous and suggestive.

"I can be very persuasive."

"There's a serious lack of morality around here," Josh commented quietly, unaware of the embarrassment threatening color in your cheeks at Jake’s pointed remark.

"You must be hungry!" Danny all but yelled as he and Adele burst into the kitchen with brimming excitement, and then more sternly, "Jake, is she hungry?"

"No, not exactly," he answered with a smug look on his face and eyes that stood unwavering on your face.

"Shame, we're always looking for a reason to dirty the kitchen."

Somehow when he said it, it lost all innocuous meaning and took on something far more suggestive. You were beginning to notice a theme and that theme didn't go unnoticed by Josh either, waving his brothers away with a disgusted look on his face.

"Okay, okay, I'm showing her around before you all freak her out even more," he said as he led you to the staircase Sam had descended from with one final disapproving look for the people gathered in the kitchen.

No one looked exactly displeased with themselves, Danny and Adele turning proudly to one another while Jake opted to give you a wiggle of his fingers as you retreated.

“I’m not sure I was really prepared for…that,” you admitted as the two of you moved further into the house.

“It wasn’t too bad, was it?” Josh asked, leading you by hand to his bedroom down a long, wood panel-lined hall.

“May take some getting used to but no, not too bad.”

It would take a lot of getting used to, actually. They were all so very…forward.

“I would tell you they’re harmless but…it wouldn’t exactly be the truth.”

He opened the door to his bedroom, one wall made entirely of glass and overlooking the treeline while the others were obscured with music and art from all over the world. All over time, too, by the looks of it. In the middle sat a bed that appeared slightly out of place, a bit more modern than the rest of the furniture he had decorated with. It was like he had bought it just for you.

“What is it with Sam?” you asked quietly, fingering through a box of records sitting on a small plant stand that looked like he had yet to sort through.

Truthfully it wasn't his more forward family members that stuck out in your mind as you perused his belongings. It was Sam. He was so different from everyone else in the house, almost like he cast a long shadow over everyone. He was certainly the most mysterious, wearing only his misery on his sleeve. It made you wonder if he had always been that way.

Over your shoulder, you watched as Josh’s entire demeanor changed. He seemed to go stiffer, his lips forming into a tight line before he spoke.

“A story for another time, when he isn’t listening so closely.”

“Are they all listening?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Most definitely,” his smile returned.

You must have made a face because Josh was suddenly pinning you to the mattress on the other side of the room from where you had been standing, his fangs baring themselves slightly and an excited look in his eyes.

“You want to give them a show?” he asked as a mischievous look similar to the one his twin wore seeped into his features.

"You haven't even finished the tour!" you squealed, his lips wasting no time attacking your skin.

"Well, getting to know the bedroom is a very important part of the tour!"

You squealed again against the tickle of his facial hair on your skin, giving in almost instantly to the assault and to his hands.

—

When you woke and took in the early morning light as it just barely broke across the dawn, Josh was the first thing your eyes landed on, serene and silent. Hardly even breathing though he often did so just to seem more human to you.

You slept hot and didn't mind the icy feeling of his skin pressed against yours in the night. In fact, most nights it was the only thing that soothed you to sleep anymore. When he was gone, your body certainly noticed as you laid awake in the dark, antique home your parents had left behind, the air conditioner cranked as low as it could handle to somehow lull you into a mock sense of calm that only Josh brought you.

But the nights he was there, he laid dutifully by your side despite the fact that he didn't need sleep. You'd asked him once how he passed the time but all he had said was something about a few hours not being a very long time when you lived for eternity. It didn't make you feel like the night was any less long. It always felt too long that you had to leave him for slumber. Sometimes you'd fight to stay awake just to spend more time with him. But sleep always won.

He watched you silently as you stretched the stiffness from your limbs and rubbed the remnants of dreams from your eyes, arm shooting over to the nightstand at his bedside to fumble around for your phone in search of the time.

You hadn't slept that long, a measly six hours. But even still, it felt too long to leave him.

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long. I could have kept you company.” It was a common argument he had grown used to hearing you mumble in your early morning haze. And he always answered it with a smile and a reason.

“Not to worry, my dear, I know humans need their sleep after sex.”

“I hope we weren’t too loud,” you groaned as his fingers swiped hair out of your eyes, leaving burning trails of memories from the night before.

He was cold to the touch and yet somehow his touch seemed always to scald you. You'd have his fingerprints burned into your skin before long.

Josh let out a laugh with his tongue pressed behind his teeth and his nose scrunched, far too cute at that early hour to be anything close to human.

He was between your legs before you could scold him for laughing at you, his body hovering just above yours like a prize that was yours for the taking if you could lift off the bed and catch him quickly enough.

"You could have been quiet as a mouse and they would have heard anyway," he whispered with his face mere inches from yours, "so no use stifling those beautiful sounds you make."

And just like that, you wanted him again. It was that easy. Maybe that was part of his gift too but more realistically, it was just him.

But your body had other plans, sabotaging your sudden hunger for him with its own. He heard your stomach rumbling before you even felt it and dipped to press a quick kiss to the tip of your nose, already looking far too pleased with himself.

“You sound hungry.” A soft bite to your jaw to punctuate his words send you further into your growing agony.

“Not as hungry as you must be. You haven’t left my side in days. Have you actually eaten anything?”

He pulled back with a toothy grin. “Don’t worry about me. Let’s get you some breakfast, although I think Danny and Adele have already beaten me to it.”

This time it was a kiss pressed to your lips that threatened to keep you in bed, if it weren't for his hands pulling you up out of bed while his lips lingered on yours despite your groan in protest. With only a satisfied giggle, he pushed you out the door in the pajamas he had forced you into the night before and down the steps toward what sounded like a bustling kitchen.

The smell of food cooking finally hit you like a wall at the bottom of the steps. It was there that you took in the sights laid before you: a mess of a kitchen, Adele parked at the large stove top with spatula in hand and large flour-y handprints on the back of her tight jeans, Danny mixing something in a bowl behind her with flour on his cheeks and hands, and a hungover-looking Jake sitting at the kitchen island donning opaque sunglasses and swishing a glass of what looked like dark liquor in his hand.

“Oh good, you’re awake!" Adele exclaimed in a voice that prompted every head to turn toward you. "Food's almost ready!"

Their years without experience in the culinary arts were evident in the portions they had chosen to make, the island littered with various breakfast dishes that no one in their right mind could consume all in one morning.

"I tried to cook but they insisted,” Jake explained plainly, sounding only mildly annoyed as he sipped and observed cooly from behind his sunglasses.

“He’s just upset because we got here before him and kicked him out of the kitchen.” Danny smiled as he finished mixing more batter and passed the bowl to Adele to begin spreading on the hot pan before her.

“He cooks for his humans all the time," Adele explained. "It was our turn.”

God, they were so chipper in the morning, a product of never needing sleep, although Jake somehow looked like he needed some. Maybe he could feel your own fatigue.

"You really don't have to cook for me," you answered, moving to lean against the island as Josh wrapped his arms around your waist to remain close.

Adele flashed another dazzling smile your direction. "Oh nonsense, of course we do."

"Especially after feeling how much energy you expended last night," Jake added without even a glance your direction to see the embarrassment spread like wildfire across your face as he sipped his bourbon like a morning coffee. No doubt he could feel it without needing to look. But you could have sworn that his words were fueled by what sounded like a tinge of jealousy.

"At least somebody in this house got some last night," Josh defended you with a jab at his brother, hugging you tighter to his chest to show that he was in no way embarrassed by your activities the previous night.

"We were trying to be polite-" Danny began to explain while Jake spoke over top of him, "Didn’t want to scare our little human just yet."

Adele's eyes flickered briefly over to the door just off the kitchen that opened out onto the large patio overlooking the backyard. Her smile waned only a sliver before her eyes dropped back to the pan in her hand and as you glanced back to the door, you saw what she must have heard before you: Sam with an annoyed look on his face after presumably being out all night.

The room went oddly quiet when he entered until Danny broke the silence.

"Sam, would you like to help us?"

"I'd rather suffocate," he said simply, his eyes immediately finding yours in the suddenly crowded room.

He was wearing a fitted purple shirt that complimented his complexion well and pants that looked a little more wrinkly than your mother would have ever let you out of the house in. And at his neckline was the only evidence of what he'd been out doing: a small trickle of blood dripping lazily down like it had all the time in the world and no place to be.

"You've got a little-" Jake pointed with his index finger to his collar.

"Fuck,” Sam huffed in exasperation, straining his neck to get a look without stretching the material too far, “I just bought this."

“Such a messy eater,” Jake teased with a smile. “We’re gonna have to buy you a bib.”

He was met with an almost instantaneous glare, a face that could have put the fear of God in anyone it was directed at. But you lacked good sense, and all.

"I can get it clean," you chimed in quietly, almost absentmindedly, a small squeak of a noise that seemed to silence everyone around you more thoroughly than Sam’s looming presence. "I'm not really a stranger to blood stains,” you clarified as eyes turned to you. “Um…do you have a laundry room?"

Sam eyed you carefully, letting his gaze flicker quickly to Josh’s and prompting your own to follow, as if asking for permission despite having already offered. But Josh seemed beyond amused by it all.

"Yeah, he'll show you," he smiled, an indirect order to his brother who had landed his eyes back on your face and for some reason looked furious at the mere suggestion you had made. Nevertheless, he jerked his head in a different direction, signaling you to follow him.

"Don't be too long! Food will be ready soon!" Adele called as Josh released you from his grip to follow Sam down an unexplored hallway to a small laundry room just at the end behind a large set of heavy wooden doors.

It was a rather human-like setup although you weren’t sure what exactly you had been expecting. It made sense that even vampires weren’t immune to the mundane chores that plagued humans. Still, you couldn’t picture the vampire that stood before you, pulling his shirt off to reveal a toned chest that somehow made him look even more god-like, doing his own laundry.

Maybe he made Josh do it.

"You could try controlling your thoughts." His disapproval cut through the silence like a knife.

“I’m so sor-” you began to apologize, fumbling over your words as you averted your gaze in favor of the shirt he had just removed when it dawned on you. "You read minds?" you asked curiously, braving his eyes again.

"Yeah, and yours is quite loud," he said flatly, meeting your gaze almost as if he were daring you to look away.

You did.

"Sorry. I'll try and…think quietly." You cleared your throat and tried not to think anything too embarrassing as you turned your focus to the task at hand. You grabbed a box of baking soda from a shelf above you and let warm water soak into the blood at the small sink in the corner of the room.

"Were you out…" ‘hunting’ you thought, though you didn’t finish that thought out loud.

"Yes."

If you hadn’t seen the resemblance, his succinctness in comparison to Josh’s talkativeness might have been enough to convince you there was no relation between the two boys. He was far less warm, too. That might have been another indication. How they belonged to the same bloodline was beyond you.

“Josh says you and Jake are the only ones not on the bunny diet,” you continued, now trying to distract him from your derailing thoughts which, if his face was any indication, he was displeased by. Not that you had yet seen him looking anything other than displeased. That he wore well.

“It makes you weaker. I figure I’m already going to hell, might as well sin as much as I want.”

He leaned against the dryer, folding his arms across his chest as his eyes dipped to your hands to watch them work.

“Do you kill them?” You weren’t even sure where the question had come from or why your brain had decided it was appropriate small talk with the vampire across from you. Maybe it was morbid curiosity, but more likely some sort of gauge to see how likely he was to snap and kill you right there.

“Do I seem like I have an aversion to killing?”

God, he was intimidating. He was what you had expected when faced with the idea of meeting an entire house of Josh’s vampire kin. Your body screamed at you to be afraid of him. But somehow, by that same lack of sense that probably worried Josh, you were instead only painfully aware of the fact that you were not growing on him by any sense of the phrase.

“I don’t really know…” you answered quietly, and your matter-of-fact tone incited him to roll his eyes.

“Yes, I kill people,” he answered for you, annoyed yet again. “That’s what we were designed for so try not to let it surprise you.”

You nodded and dropped your eyes back down to his shirt again, fully accepting the awkward tension as it washed over you and pursing your lips like it was obvious he killed people. How stupid of you to ask, really.

“Helps if you let it soak in warm water but if you’re in a pinch, scrubbing works too,” you explained, both of you suddenly pretending like he was watching or cared.

He said nothing as you massaged the baking soda into the material gently, the way you had done with countless pairs of cotton underwear in the middle of the night. You imagined what it would be like to wash blood out of your own clothing under these same circumstances, someone else’s blood. Your meal, in fact. It made you wonder if that was in your future, if Josh would turn you.

Josh was strict about the blood he drank, specifically about it not coming from humans. He had explained that animal blood wasn’t nearly as satiating for his kind but that it felt right to him. He had only drank human blood once and quickly found it wasn’t for him. It felt funny to hear a vampire say it but truthfully, you couldn’t picture him hurting someone either, so in some odd sense, it fit. His brothers clearly didn’t have such reservations. You wondered if you’d be the same way, given the opportunity.

"What about Adele and Danny? Do they hunt the way you do?"

It seemed innocuous enough but your question was the final straw for Sam who had been growing more agitated by the moment.

"Are you almost finished? I don't have all day," he spat.

But you couldn’t ignore the irony.

"What an interesting thing for a vampire to say."

You didn’t even laugh at your own joke and that was probably for the best because if looks could kill, Sam was sending you a glare that would have swiftly ended your life.

"Humans are a liability,” he fumed, looking like he was using all of his strength to avoid doing something he would regret, no matter how little he would regret it. “Josh never should have brought you here.”

He stormed out without another word and without his shirt too, leaving you where you stood, sudsy hands and sigh caught in your throat. You felt like an idiot for your failed attempt at making conversation with him. But even more so, you worried that maybe you didn’t mesh well with Josh’s family. You wanted them to like you, desperately so. You had no family of your own anymore and it felt like this was your chance to have it again. To have something again. Every failed attempt with him would feel like another nail in the coffin on your fate that you didn’t want to be as lonely as it threatened.

You finished what you were doing quickly, it was dangerous for you to be alone after all, and returned to the kitchen where a now angry Jake argued passionately with Adele about human recipes and baking times. Danny contributed nothing to help solve the argument other than giggling along and adding in a, “She’s always right, Jake,” at the more inopportune moments, for no other reason than to get a rise out of him apparently.

It was comforting, actually, the bickering. Reminded you of the early mornings with your parents watching them play fight while making waffles for breakfast.

"Don’t let him get to you,"Josh whispered against the shell of your ear when you returned, having heard the entire conversation. They probably all had, actually, but you were trying to save yourself that embarrassment by pretending they hadn’t. Something else that would take some getting used to: the super hearing they all possessed.

"Food is ready!" Adele exclaimed.

She was good at cutting the tension but you certainly hadn’t missed the look she had given Sam when he entered. There was a story there, you could tell. Maybe it was part of the reason Sam seemed so angry.

She handed you a plate stacked high with the pancakes she had been flipping at the stove, Danny pouring a healthy amount of syrup on top as the plate exchanged hands. They seemed unbelievably proud of their work and watched you expectantly as you picked a fork up off the island and took a bite.

It wasn’t exactly a gourmet dish but it was edible, enough to smile and feign enjoyment for the eagerly-awaiting vampires surrounding you. And it seemed to appease.

"Ha! I knew we were better cooks than you!" Adele pointed with her spatula accusingly toward Jake who pushed it out of his face with a wave of his hand.

"Yeah, yeah, why don't you go celebrate."

"Ooh, celebration,” Danny said, suddenly intrigued. “I like the sound of that."

In an instant, his hands were on Adele’s hips, pulling her into a searing kiss that took them out of the kitchen quite quickly, aprons and various other clothing items littering the floor and marking their path down the hallway toward their room. It left you practically speechless.

"Vampires," Jake shook his head and gave you a wink as he began clearing dishes off the kitchen counter.

They didn’t even seem phased by it, leading you to believe that was a common occurrence around here. And rather than addressing it, Josh simply took the plate from your hands and grabbed one of yours now empty to lead you into the dining room just off the kitchen.

“Ruined my perfectly clean kitchen,” you heard Jake mumble as you retreated and chose a seat at the large oak table sitting squarely in the dining room made entirely of glass to give a breathtaking view of the surrounding forest.

"What?" Josh asked with a laugh as he took the seat opposite yours.

"Danny and Adele. They must really love each other." You gave a baffled shake of your head as you committed to choking down Adele’s cooking.

"Well, they are soul ties."

Soul ties: it wasn't something you'd heard Josh talk about before, a missing piece of vampire lore in your catalog.

"What does that mean?"

"Soul ties are like soulmates for vampires," he explained. "Vampires mate for life so when we form a tie with someone, we’re bound to them for eternity. There's some ceremony to it, binding the tie by drinking one another's blood. It's a very sacred thing. The act of drinking for a vampire, it's incredibly profound. But the act of drinking from the person you're tied to, it's the deepest form of intimacy."

You pushed the food around your plate with your fork. "Can vampires only form soul ties with other vampires?"

Josh gave you a knowing smile.

"No, Adele was human when Danny tied with her. It's much stronger when you're a vampire though. For a human, you can resist it longer, the forces pulling you together. As a vampire, it's much harder."

"What do you mean? What forces?"

"Sometimes a tie forms between two people who aren't together. You won't necessarily be instantly drawn to one another but over time, the ability to resist the other person becomes harder and harder. And as a vampire, you’ll grow weaker and weaker until the binding ceremony is performed. You grow to need each other.” He said it with reverence, like he felt its weight. “That's what happened with Adele."

"Her and Danny weren't always together?" You had a hard time imagining the two people you'd just witnessed with their hands all over one another like no one was watching dating other people. And sure, they seemed to be flirty with everyone, yourself included, but there was just no way they hadn't always felt that passion for one another.

"Actually…they weren't." Josh hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Adele was with Sam when her tie with Danny formed."

Suddenly her look and his demeanor made sense. "Her and Sam dated?"

Josh nodded and kept his voice quiet as he continued. "We didn't meet her for a long time after they started dating, probably because he was waiting to form the tie himself. But then, she walked through the door, Danny laid eyes on her, and it became clear why Sam hadn't felt it yet. She tried to resist it for a bit but once Danny turned her, it was too strong to deny."

It dawned on you what Sam's gift was, although it seemed more like a curse when you thought about it now. It was no wonder he seemed like a walking black cloud around the house. He had to listen to their thoughts about how much they loved each other all day, constantly seeing them and hearing them together. It was enough to make anyone miserable.

And you suddenly felt angry for him.

"Why do they flaunt it like that in front of him? Don't they care that he lives here too?"

Josh gave a sympathetic look and shook his head. "It's not really like that. When you're with your tie, and especially after you've done the ritual, nothing else really matters."

You felt the swift sharp sting of worry that he hadn't mentioned soul ties before. And if he hadn't mentioned it before, he likely hadn't felt it before.

"And…have you…" You didn't even want to say it, to speak it into existence and receive confirmation of what you were now terrified of: that Josh wasn't yours to keep. But when you met Josh's eyes as you trailed off into silence, you saw only a gentle smile on his lips.

"No, I haven't felt it yet. But soul ties are situational. You have to be on the right path to form them. And once those paths are right, they can't be unmerged."

"Why would it change?"

"It's just like humans finding their soulmates. You have to be in the right place at the right time, at a point in your life where you're ready to accept that person. It's the same thing, only throw in a bit of the supernatural and it'll do most of the deciding for you."

He gave you a genuine smile, clearly trying to ease your nerves before you had a complete spiral. And truthfully, it didn't put your mind at ease all that much. You liked what you had and at the very least, something had to change to put you on the right path to solidify what you already knew you wanted.

"So…I'm not your soul tie now, but I could be?" you asked, less a question and more clarification to be filed away for your own purposes.

"Yes, it could happen. But it’s not something I want you to worry about. It'll happen when it's meant to happen." He leaned across the table to give you a gentle kiss and another reassuring smile that seemed to do the trick. For now, at least. “Eat. I want to show you something.”

You turned your eyes back down to the plate before you. Maybe, at the very least, Sam could find some satisfaction in the distasteful thoughts you were having about Adele's cooking abilities.

—

When you managed to finish your breakfast, Josh escorted you out into the backyard that was more of an oasis opening into the dense forest surrounding their home than a typical yard. There was the guest house which looked like a small English cottage sitting several yards away from the house and decorated in ivy, tucked neatly into the treeline like it had always been there. And then there was a large greenhouse made entirely of glass, matching the main house that way, surrounded by plants and filled with even more. That was the structure Josh was leading you toward, holding open the door clouded by years of dirt and plants and exposure to the elements.

Inside sat almost every plant native to the northwest coast, all in various states of their life cycles which begged the question of who was taking care of them, who had written the tiny signs that named them all and picked each of the unique planters, some in deep jewel tones blanketing the ceramic, others looking hand-glazed in speckled pots with carved designs. Even the stained glass signs that hung from thick metal wire looked handmade, decorating the inside of the otherwise plain glass of the structure. And stringed lights ran like a blanket across the domed ceiling, looking dusty as though they had remained unlit for quite some time.

“This place is beautiful, Josh,” you marveled at your surroundings, enchanting even in the daytime with the early morning sun glinting off the glass. It set your boyfriend’s skin asparkle, little beams of light dancing across his skin and darting around to ricochet off the walls.

Even in such a mesmerizing place, he stole the show.

“It was Sam's but he doesn't take much interest anymore. The rest of us take turns watering everything now. Sometimes Jake comes out here and reads books to the plants.”

You could picture them all chipping in to keep the greenery alive, each contributing something unique to help the little leaves grow and thrive. Even the plants had a family. It almost made you yearn for their life, digging their roots into soil and sitting, unwavering, watching the world pass them by as Josh and his brothers sat stagnant with them. Living at an entirely different pace than the rest of the world. You’d dig your roots in, too, if you could.

“I can’t stand the thought of you going back to that big house by yourself,” Josh interrupted your rather self-pitying thoughts, diverting your attention to where your roots had once been placed. And so forcefully torn up out of the ground.

“Josh, you’ve been over almost every night for the past two months.” You avoided the obvious to keep from getting more emotional than you wanted to be at that moment.

Your parents had left their house to you, along with everything they had, but Josh knew you had felt stagnant in a different way since their death. You’d quit your job to move back to the place you grew up and take care of their affairs. And mourn. But somewhere along the way, grief had turned to anger, sharp and hot and near constant. It wasn’t until you had met Josh that your demeanor had been thawed…

“I know how much you hate going back in there. I should have brought you over sooner but I wanted to be sure all of this wouldn’t freak you out.”

“There are some things about your brothers that freak me out a little,” you nodded, making your way back to where Josh stood, “but there’s nothing about you that freaks me out.”

He gave you a soft smile as your arms wound around his waist. “You’ll have plenty of time to get used to it when you move in.”

“Oh is that so?” you smiled back at him. “And when did you decide I was moving in?”

“The day I met you, really, but that seemed a bit forward.”

Your smile fell as you realized he wasn’t just being cute for the sake of being cute.

“Wait, you’re being serious,” you breathed.

“Of course I’m being serious,” he grinned, pulling you in at the waist like he was suddenly worried you might run.

“You’re asking me to move in with you?”

He chuckled almost nervously and must have second guessed himself at your reaction because his shoulders squeezed upward in a shrug and he gave you a cautious nod before adding, almost silently, “If you’ll have me.”

It wasn’t that you had meant to worry him with your surprise. But you were surprised. It had been so long since…well, since things had gone well for you. You could feel your mind and body slipping into flight mode, the urge to run before the other shoe dropped sudden and severe. But you did want to move in with him. More than anything, you just wanted to be with him, always. He was your happy place and you certainly didn’t deserve him, but better than running was clinging. And you’d cling to him.

Without any words, you crashed your lips against his, solidifying your answer and earning a sigh of relief from Josh as his lips melded into yours. You could feel the smile that grew there, too, sealing itself into the kiss as his body was suddenly pressing you back into a heavy table in the middle of the greenhouse.

God, you were starting to feel like Danny and Adele, never getting enough of each other.

Josh broke from the kiss briefly, letting his lips fall to your jaw so he could speak better. “We’ll get your stuff tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh.” You weren’t paying attention any longer. The only object of your focus was now his lips. And his body. And his hands.

His lips worked lower as he easily lifted you up onto the table, parting your knees to make space for himself in between. You could imagine a life like this, easily. It made sense to you, as much as it scared you to once again have something so valuable. At least this would hopefully be harder to lose.

Your hands worked up into his hair to pull his lips back to yours, the taught curls wrapping around your fingers and engulfing them like even his hair meant to keep you there. And the hum suddenly buzzing through his lips, it vibrated through you. Fuck, you felt insatiable when it came to him.

His pace quickened as the kiss became more fervent, hungrier. He was always so in control but moments like these where your body was calling to him and moans were building in your chest, you swore you felt that control falter a bit. Secretly, you wanted to see him snap, but you knew the consequences of that were likely a bit more grave than just him being rougher for a night. But still, you wanted it. You couldn’t help but try, even, to push him just a tad further, when your hands lowered to the bulge growing in his khakis and your thighs hugged his hips harder. It was all for him, you were all for him-

“Am I interrupting?”

Jake’s voice startled you both, although you moreso, almost jumping out of your skin. You pulled back to quickly adjust your clothing, trying to save a bit of your dignity in the process. Josh, on the other hand, pulled away rather reluctantly, his fist clenching almost too hard around your thigh before he adjusted his pants and turned toward his brother with a singular word spoken more like a hiss.

“Obviously.”

“You’re parked behind me,” Jake said flatly, gesturing behind him to the garage and only glancing at you for a mere fraction of a second.

“You know where my keys are,” Josh answered, keeping his body in front of yours as you fixed your hair and tried to calm the sudden pounding of your heart in your chest.

“The last time I drove your car, it ended with you ripping the steering wheel out and throwing it at me.”

“You got blood all over the interior.”

“I said I’d have it detailed,” Jake defended himself in a tone that suggested he still didn’t see the problem with what he had done. “Anyway, she already said yes, so you have plenty of time for this,” he gestured vaguely in your direction with only his pointer finger, “later.”

You got a rare glimpse of watching Josh teeter on angry, well past visibly annoyed. To be honest, it turned you on and you prayed Jake couldn’t feel it.

Josh sighed, defeated, and turned back to you.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised with a smile unblemished by his previous anger. Never directed at you.

He was gone in an instant, leaving nothing but wind pushing your hair away from your face and leaving you still sitting on the table, now across from his twin who gave you a smirk the moment Josh was out of earshot.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed,” he relented, confirming your fears, “I’ve felt everything there is to feel.”

“It’s not nice to spy on people,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest to somehow try and hide yourself from him, fully clothed as you were.

He crossed to you, letting his hand absentmindedly adjust the hem of your shirt and almost causing you to jump at the contact as you watched him, still somewhat surprised by the audacity vampires seemed to have.

“It’s not really spying when you’re doing it in a building made of windows,” he said with a purse of his lips as he let his eyes trail over you, taking you in.

Your eyes darted over to his fingers, still resting at the collar of your shirt, and back to his face.

“Do you always give him a hard time like that?”

“Whenever possible,” he grinned wide. “You know, it was sweet of you, pretending like you liked Adele’s and Danny’s cooking this morning.”

You shrugged, oddly feeling at ease the longer he remained close. Maybe he was using his gifts on you.

“Oh, it really wasn’t that bad,” you lied.

He shook his head and tutted his tongue.

“I watched them make it, I know it was.”

“Well, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

He brought his eyes up to yours and for the first time, you took him in up close, his resemblance to Josh, all of the scars that differentiated him, the warmth in his eyes that mimicked his brother’s but somehow promised a little more danger.

“I don’t know; maybe we should ask Sam. That’s his specialty, not mine.” He smiled softly, moving his hand from your shirt to your hair to tuck strands that had been previously disheveled behind your ear.

It took all your strength to focus on the conversation.

“Thanks for not ratting me out to Danny and Adele,” you answered quietly, hoping to quiet your louder emotions.

His smile grew across his face and he leaned in slightly closer to speak barely above a whisper.

“Your little human secrets will always be safe with me.”

You ignored the beat your heart skipped as he said it in favor of chuckling lightly and giving him an exasperated smile yourself.

“A bit condescending, don’t you think?”

He dropped his hand, letting it ghost over your thigh as it fell back to his side.

“Maybe,” he nodded, dipping his eyes to your knees and letting them rake back up your body, “but I felt your heart flutter so, not exactly incentive for me to stop, now is it?”

And then he was back in the doorway of the greenhouse watching Josh cross the almost overgrown lawn.

“Thank you, Joshy,” he called without another look back your way. “Oh and you might want to pick a different place to do it. I don’t want to have to explain to these poor plants what they’ll have seen. It’ll be bad for their development.”

Josh only rolled his eyes and shook his head, returning to your arms where he belonged.

“Where were we?” he smiled.

Taglist: @sparrowofthedawnsworld @demonrat444 @malany-gvf @myownparadise96 @capturethechaos @st4rdust-ch0rds @montenegroisr @sacredjake @notthedroidz @sinarainbows @kissingthegoat @eraofstardustchords @cherryflo @blacksoul-27 @Lyndz2names @earthgrlsreasy @gvfmarge @carlyfleet @thetroublegetssoloud71 @withlovegvf @Suzi107 @gracev0609 @Objectsinspvce @ignite-my-fire @kissakiszka @amorlizette @stardustcatcher @notsostrangerthing @brokebellsgvf @sweet1squash @imleavingyoufornewyork @lipstickitty @ageofhearingloss @zoe-tally06 @mavvanfleet @stardustthread @sammysinger04 @jaketlove @areuirish @kashmirclam @jessicafg03

#gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #jake kiszka smut #josh kiszka smut #fire in the water #gvf fic #josh kiszka fic #sam kiszka fic #jake kiszka fic #danny wagner fic

196 notes · View notes

thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 2 months

Note

I’m not sure if you’ve ever said anything about this, but the first time I read new moon, the vote chapter, there was one bit that really stuck out:

(from Bella’s point of view) Edward grabbed my face in his hand, forcing me to look at him. His other hand was out, palm toward Carlisle. Carlisle ignored that.

Bella later went on to say it was hard to talk clearly with how Edward was holding her jaw. I don’t know if I’ve misunderstood what exactly was happening, but why did the entire family watch that and do nothing? I’ve read the metas where you’ve said it’d take a lot for Carlisle to realise what Edward really is, but surely that’s a pretty massive indicator and Carlisle actively ignored it?

Anon, you're hilarious.

An Aside in Which I Say "Look in the Mirror"

I've been running this blog for a few years now (a terrifying thought) and I'm both a) one of the most critical of Edward in this space (which is not a bad thing, mind, people are free to do what they like) b) often get asks in which I am asked by anons to justify why I think poorly of Edward.

This is on top of the thousands of metas I've written pointing out various things from canon, where I've presented many arguments, and anons still will ask me to make more arguments.

This is fandom, anon, relatively objective observers who are privy to information the characters in the story don't have. We know Bella's exact thoughts, we know how Edward has interacted with her in private, and we even know Edward's private thoughts for at least the duration of Twilight because of Midnight Sun.

AND YET, I AM HERE.

And you ask this as if it should be obvious to the most casual observer.

Back to Your Ask

I've discussed this at length in posts I'm too lazy to look up at the moment but the crux of it is that

a) Edward's a beloved family member and it's deeply hard to think ill of those we love and we want to justify their actions

b) the family doesn't see most of what goes on with Bella and are only told things by Alice and Edward with Alice being firmly on Edward's side

c) Due to his having previously had a redemption arc in which Edward came back unprompted to the diet even though it must have been not only humiliating but terrifying, Edward comes across as one of the Cullens who best understands that human life is worth protecting and just why they're all doing the diet.

This particular moment though, I'd also give Edward a pass if I was present. To touch Bella at all, to move her like this, Edward has to be extraordinarily gentle and careful. If he was at all rough with her, at all, Bella would be dead or seriously injured (with her jaw crushed between Edward's fingers, her neck snapped, etc.) Basically, for Edward to do this at all, he's being incredibly mindful and the Cullens as vampires are very aware of that.

Add onto that that Bella can speak, when this is a guy who's hand is made of stone, he has to be holding her incredibly gently from his perspective for her to be able to speak at all (and not have a broken jaw).

Also from the outside perspective, where Bella and Edward are in this romantic relationship (even though they just got out of being broken up) and they all know Edward's deeply in love with Bella, this looks like an intimate gesture than it does a "LOOK AT ME" gesture. It's not something any of them would do, or a normal person would, but they're also not dating Bella/convinced they're soulmates with her.

Add into that that they're in the middle of a very intense day, in which Edward had just tried to kill himself and is very emotionally fragile, Bella's now asking to be turned directly, the Volturi barely pardoned them, and Edward is coming unglued with the idea that Bella's going to be turned and the Cullens aren't at the top of their game.

They're just trying to get through the conversation where they tell Edward (and Rosalie) that, yes, they actually do have to turn Bella.

This doesn't register as physical violence to them, and I don't blame them for this one.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #bella swan #the cullens #carlisle cullen #meta #headcanon #opinion

58 notes · View notes

cherrycola27 · 8 months

Text

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

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

Chapter 10: Devil in Her Eyes

Even though it is Saturday, and he should be sleeping in, Bradley's body betrays him, and he finds himself waking up much too early with an unfamiliar warmth pressed against him.

It takes his brain a few seconds to catch up, but once it does, he registers that it's your body pressed up against him.

At some point in the night, the two of you shifted, and now, Bradley had your back firmly pressed up against his torso, with one arm wrapped tightly around you, and your head tucked under his chin.

He kisses the top of your forehead and tries to will himself back to sleep, but it's no use. He's hyper aware situation he is in. The very hard situation he is in.

You shift in your sleep, causing your ass to brush across the massive hard-on he has right now. It's almost painful.

He can't remember the last time he had been dating a girl this long without sleeping with them. He was hoping that last night would have changed that, but after what happened, you both knew it wasn't the time.

But you were worth the wait. Bradley had promised himself that he would be better for you. That he would give up his former fuckboy ways, and be the partner you needed. You deserved it.

You weren't some twenty-something with daddy issues who was trying to piss off her parents, and you weren't some tag chaser who only wanted to be with him because of his shiny pins and medals.

If anything, he was the tag chaser because you had twice as many as he did.

You weren't any of that. You were real— substantial, hardworking. You deserved a partner who was going to support you and respected you, and that's exactly what Bradley wanted to be.

So, at 5:48 in the morning, he hauled himself out of bed to take a shower and to have the quietest solo session of his life.

He emerges roughly twenty minutes later. The dim light from the bathroom barely illuminates his bedroom. He looks over at his bed and chuckles. You've moved from your side of the bed, and now, you are sprawled out in the middle of his sheets like a starfish.

You look so much more peaceful now than you did yesterday. Bradley doesn't dare wake you. Instead, he slips on some gym shots and a Navy tank top. He grabs his phone from the charger before going to his kitchen.

He grabs a banana from the bowl on his island, some water from the fridge and a protein shake. He finds his keys and then quietly slips out of his apartment.

He makes his way to your floor and uses the key you gave him and never took back to unlock your door. He hears Cerberus' paws tapping on the floor as he runs into the living room from one of the bedrooms in your apartment. Bradley gently talks to him as Cerberus excitedly greets him.

Bradley heads to your pantry cabinet and feeds Hydra and Cerberus, and refills their water bowls.

The then makes his way back to your entry way to grab the harness and leash you use when you take Cerby on a run with you. Bradley quickly puts it on him, but it proves to be more difficult than he imagined because Cerberus won't stop licking his face.

"I know, buddy, I'm happy to see you too!" Bradley tells him as he scratches behind his ears. He quickly gathers his things and takes Cerberus into the hallway, and locks the door behind him.

Bradley and Cerberus end up running three miles around your neighborhood. They took a break to watch the sunrise before heading back.

It was almost eight when he dropped Cerby back at your apartment with the promise to be back later.

Bradley had taken his second shower of the day and was making waffles when you finally came out of his room.

You walked bleary-eyed into his kitchen and were met with the glorious sight of Bradley clad in grey sweatpants and a black tee straining against the taught muscles of his back as he worked over his stove.

Now that's a sight you could wake up to every morning

"G'morning," you called to him. Your voice was raspy and still thick with sleep.

"Good morning, Angel. I hope you're hungry." Bradley said as he turned and smiled at you. His curls were slightly damp, probably from a shower you figured, and one of them had the audacity to fall from the neat pile at the top of his head and rest perfectly on his forehead, as if it's sole purpose in life was to taunt you.

"I'm starving, but I need to go to my apartment and feed the fur babies and walk Cerberus." You tell him with a sigh.

"Already taken care of. Cerby and I did three miles and watched the sunrise this morning. Fed him and Hyrda and told them we'd be back later." Bradley smiles at you as he plates some waffles and bacon and slides one in front of you.

You stand there stunned. You can't believe he did that for you, and he made you breakfast.

Bradley takes a seat at his kitchen island and looks at you. "It's going to get cold, dig in." He says.

Gods, he is the best

A wide smile breaks out across your face. You take your plate and set it right next to his before plopping down in his lap and planting a kiss on his lips.

Bradley is startled for a moment but then wraps his arms around you and returns the kiss. When you pull away, you don't get up. Instead, you spend the rest of breakfast, perched on his thigh, eating some of the best waffles you've ever tasted.

"I didn't know you could cook. With how often you end up in my kitchen, I thought that you lived off of beer and instant noodles." You joke with Bradley as the two of you finish up the breakfast dishes.

"Breakfast is about all I can do. My mom tried to teach me so I could impress girls, but breakfast is the only thing that stuck. It is beer and instant noodles and the occasional squished sandwich any other time." Bradley shoots back.

"Well, consider me impressed with your waffle iron skills." You say as you stand up on your tip toes and press a kiss to his lips.

Bradley tries to deepen the kiss, but his nose bumps into yours, and he winces.

It's probably the first of many times he'll be hurt by you

You gently stroke his cheek and trail your finger across the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, Love. You poor thing. What are you going to tell Maverick? You can't wear an oxygen mask with your nose like it is." You say sympathetically.

"I'll tell him a fell down some stairs or something. Don't worry." Bradley tells you with a kiss to your hair. His silent way of telling you not to stress over it.

"Okay." You smile at him.

"Love, as much as I want to stay here with you, I've got to be a responsible pet owner." You say.

"I know. We can both go downstairs. Let me get you some sweatpants to wear." Bradley says, knowing you need clothes too.

You slide on a pair of his sweats and draw them at the waist. The two of you make the quick trip to your apartment, and Hydra and Cerberus are more than happy to see you. After finally getting calmed down, you and Bradley settled on your couch while they settled at your feet.

Bradley turns on your TV and puts on a movie that both of you have seen. He's trying to distract himself to keep from asking you the hundreds of questions he has had racing through his mind after your confessions from last night.

He tries to hold it in, but after an hour, he breaks.

Bradley turns off the TV and turns to you.

"Angel, I know it's probably rude of me, but I have some questions for you—about everything." Bradley says.

There is a short pause. You exhale and meet his eyes. "What do you want to know?" You say.

Bradley pauses to think. As much as he wants to dive into the deep stuff, maybe he should ease in first.

"How old are you—really?" Bradley asks. He figures that it's an easy place to start.

"I am really, three thousand one hundred eighty-nine years old. But Olympian years aren't like human years. One Olympian year is about a hundred human years. So technically, I wasn't lying when I told you I was thirty-one." You answer him.

"But, I've only lived on Earth about eleven hundred years." You say.

"Okay. Makes sense, I guess." Bradley says. "What else do you want to know?" You ask him. You have a feeling that is could go one of two ways, and you weren't sure which one would be harder to explain.

"You said that you burned Persephone, and you were banished because of that. What do you mean? If it's too much for you to talk about, I understand. I'm just—curious." He says sheepishly. So much for him easing in

You breathe a sigh of relief.

You weren't ready to have the conversation about his parents yet.

"Well—" you begin.

"Zeus is my older brother. Out of the 'Big Three' of myself, Zeus, and Poseidon, I'm the youngest. Persephone is also older than me. That's important." You tell him. Bradley nods his head.

"Before there was Hera, Persephone was betrothed to Zeus. But she didn't—she said she didn't love him. She came to visit me in the Underworld because she fancied me. She thought I was charming and mysterious. To be a young Goddess, she said I was so mature. Wise beyond my years. I was completely taken by her. She was the first person who ever showed a real interest in me." You say.

"She was lively, beautiful, energetic. She lit up any room she walked in and made my life brighter. She was always the center of attention. When she was around, people were drawn to her. And she had this was of making you feel special—important, like you were the only person in the world who mattered. Just like you, Love. I guess you could say I have a type." You snicker.

"Persephone made me feel important, desirable—worthwhile. When you're the Goddess of death, you're used to being cast a side, but she put me on a pedestal." You explain to him. Bradley listens with wrapped attention.

All you ever wanted was for someone to pay attention to you

"What started out as an autumn infatuation turned into a winter romance. Everything was fine— until spring came, and she was supposed to go back to marry Zeus. I told her she could stay with me. We could marry and rule the Underworld together. But then—well—that's where it gets hazy." You tell Bradley.

"Hazy? What do you mean?" Bradley asks you.

What did you mean?

"Well, I can remember very clearly asking Seph to stay and marry me, but then it's like I have these—these— gaps. It's foggy. The next thing I remember is being on trial in Olympus." You press your fingers to your forehead to try and remember.

"Trial?" Bradley asks.

A witchtrial was more like it

"Zeus summoned me from the Underworld to stand trial for the crime of intentionally maiming Persephone in an effort to keep her to myself. She came to Olympus in shambles about how I had proposed to her and that she tried to break off it because she had come to her senses and realized that she did want me and when she told me that, I lost control and burned her face because I knew Zeus wouldn't have an imperfect bride." You explained.

"Did you?" Bradley breathes out. Almost ashamed to ask.

Did you?

"I don't think so. But I don't remember. I loved Persephone. I never would have hurt her on purpose. She said I made her ugly and unlovable because of how her face and neck were scarred from my fire burns. But I didn't think she was ugly. I still thought she was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. I tried to defend myself, but no one would listen to me." You could feel the tears starting to build.

You still remember how much it hurt you. Seeing her standing here. Her her once perfect skin marred with scars that you caused.

You never once thought they made her any less beautiful. Just like how you never thought Bradley's made him any less handsome.

"She said such hurtful things about me. She called me 'a crisis of her faith.' A demon, —a monster. 'A love sick-child who couldn't take no for an answer'." You sighed heavily.

"Zeus was going to force Persephone to stay in the Underworld because my brother is vain and wouldn't marry a disfigured woman. He thought having her there with me was a fitting punishment. A constant reminder of what I had done. But Demeter, Persephone's mother, threatened to withhold the harvest. She'd cause a famine and wipe out the mortals. And if there were no mortals, who would worship the might Zeus?" You laugh sarcastically.

"So, Zeus banished me to the Underworld. I would never be allowed to return to Olympus. Then, he and Poseidon created the River Styx. When I'm in my true form, because of my fire, I can't cross water. Everyone thinks that the River Styx is to keep the living out of the Underworld. But it's not. It's to keep me in." You whisper as a few tears slip down your cheek.

It was a cage

Because that's what monsters belonged in

Bradley pulls you in for a hug. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Angel. I promise that I will never hurt you like that. I love you." Bradley kisses you tenderly.

"And do you want to know the most fucked up thing about it?" You say.

As if the whole thing wasn't fucked up enough

"What?" Bradley asked you.

"I was nineteen Olympian years old when it happened. I was nineteen, and Persephone was thirty-two. I was still a kid. I mean, one thousand nine hundred earth years seems like a lot, but I was so young." You start to cry.

"All of this happened right before I turned two thousand. Now you know why I didn't like my birthday." You breathe out.

"Then, I was about twenty-one hundred when Zeus got all of us banished to Earth. When it first happened, I tried so hard to complete my quest, thinking maybe I could win them over and get Seph back. But I realized that they would never accept me, and if I did complete it, I'd be back in the Underworld, alone, forever. Banishment meant freedom. So that's why I stopped trying."

Bradley is silent for a minute as he takes it all in. "I'm sorry, baby. I promise I'll be better for you than she ever was."

"You already are." You tell him.

And you mean it

He tucks you to his side, and you two spend the better part of the day curled up on your couch. That is until Hangman texts the group chat asking everyone to meet up for drinks and pool. You aren't thrilled about going, but Bradley convinces you that it will be good to get out of the house after the disaster that was yesterday.

"Fine." You finally agree. "But can we hold off on telling everyone about us until after Christmas? I know we had to tell Maverick, but I just want to keep you to myself for a little while longer." You say to him.

The two of you had been keeping your relationship quiet from the rest of the team.

"I guess. But at the New Years Eve party Penny throws every year, I'm planting the biggest kiss on you at midnight so everyone knows exactly whose girl you are." Bradley mumbles against your lips before kissing you.

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

The Hard Deck is packed tonight. And you know that you were the one who had asked Bradley to keep your relationship quite for a little longer, but all you want to do right now is thread your fingers through his, press your body up against him, and give him the sweetest kiss.

It's killing you that he looks so good tonight in a bright floral print shirt and tight jeans. He's currently sitting on a barstool talking to Payback and Fanboy about who knows what, and his thighs are spread wide and they look like they would make the perfect seat.

You're about to say fuck it and go over there and deal with the fallout later. But before you can, some perky blonde does exactly what you were thinking about.

Bradley freezes as she wraps her arms around his neck. He is visibly uncomfortable as he tries to gently, but firmly push her off his lap and stand up.

Raged floods your body. You were gripping your beer bottle so tightly that you were worried it would shatter. You could feel yourself heating up the longer you watched her shamelessly throw herself at Bradley.

Your Bradley

You tried to stay calm, and you could see that Bradley was clearly trying to get her away and tell her he wasn't interested.

But the final straw came when she persisted and brought one of her hands up to stroke the scars along his face and neck.

Bradley all but shoved her off of his lap before briskly walking away. And it's a good thing too because you were two seconds away from grabbing a fistful of her hideous extensions and dragging her off of him. Some people just couldn't take a hint.

You tried to go find Bradley, but Jake grabbed you by the arm and shoved a pool cue into your hand and demanding you be his partner for a round.

Maybe this was for the best. You needed a minute to cool down.

After you and Jake beat Javy and Nat, you were determined to find Bradley. You didn't have to look far. He was just about to unplug the juke box when the same blonde from earlier came over to him with a beer in her hand. A peace offering, you suppose.

Fucking bitch

You watched Bradley decline her offer as his eyes searched the room for you. He shot you a wink over the rim of his sunglasses before pulling the plug and walking over to the upright piano Penny had.

You chuckled as you watched the other woman walk away. But you didn't miss the way her eyes still lingered on Bradley.

You walked over to the piano and leaned against the top of it along with the rest of the squad. Bradley played a few warmup bars that already had the patrons in an excited mood, but the place truly came to life as the first notes of his famous rendition of "Great Balls of Fire" rang out.

You clapped and laughed and cheered with glee as he sang his heart out. He looked incredibly as he threw his head back and sang. You zeroed in on the vein, straining in his neck and the bead of sweat that trickled down it. You wanted to run your lips and tongue over it and taste his salty, sweet skin. You watched his skilled fingers dance over the keys, and you wondered if he could play your body just as well as he could play the piano. His fingers flew over the black and white keys as he came up on the interlude of the song.

That damn blonde was still eyeing him, so you decided to throw caution to the wind and stake your claim in front of everyone.

You rounded the piano, and as he played, you ducked under Bradley's arm, and without him missing a beat, you perched yourself on his thigh. His eyebrow shot up in surprise, but he kept on playing. As he sang out the second "kiss me, baby" of the song, you did just that. Leaning forward, you planted a steamy, sloppy kiss on his lips. He shimmied as he sang, "Oh, that feels good, baby."

You leaned back against his chest and shot the blonde a smug look before looking to your friends who broke out into applause and whooped over the crowd with joy.

As Bradley finished, you cupped his jaw and kissed him again. He kissed you back in a way that was probably a little indecent for the location, but he didn't care. He probably would have continued if Jake hadn't loudly shouted for the two of you to get a room.

You thought that was a fine idea, so you leaned close and whispered in Bradley's ear, "What do you say, Love, wanna get out of here?"

Bradley didn't answer. Instead, he stood up, grabbed you by the hand, and led you to the bar so he could pay the tab. Once he settled up with Penny, he all but dragged you out of the bar.

The entire ride back to the apartment complex was silent. Bradley's hand was planted on your thigh. Ever so often, he would silde it closer and closer to your aching core.

After he zoomed into the park garage and peeled into his parking spot, extremely crooked, he wasted no time unbuckling both of your seat belts. He looped his finger through the belt loops on your jeans and slid you across the bench seat right next to him.

He fingers curled in your hair as he pulled you to him for a filthy kiss.

His tongue slipped into your mouth as you battled with each other for dominance. Your fingers gripped at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. If he kept kissing you like this, you weren't going to make it inside.

While the thought of him taking you right there in the front seat of his Bronco sounded amazing, you wanted to take him to your bed so he could fuck you properly. You wanted him to sleep beside you again so your sheets would smell like him when he eventually had to go back to his apartment.

"Bradley—Bradley lets go upstairs." You finally managed to pant out between kisses. He groaned in protest but agreed.

He quickly jumped out of his car and pulled you out of the drivers side behind him before tossing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

"Bradley!" You shrieked as bounded towards the elevator. "Put me down!" You said to him, but he ignored your protests. Instead, he swatted your ass and laughed.

He did put you down in the elevator only to press you up against the wall as he kissed you again.

"Your place or mine?" He asked you.

"Mine." You confirmed as you blindly felt for the button.

The ride to your floor seemed to take an eternity. You prayed that you wouldn't have to stop because if you did, the people in your building would certainly get a show. Bradley had one of his knees pressed between your legs, and you were grinding down on him as you fumbled with his belt buckle.

You had just gotten it open and unzipped his jeans when you heard the ding of the bell, letting you know you had arrived to your floor.

Bradley wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs and hoisted you into his arms to walk you down the hallway.

Your lips trailed kisses everywhere you could reach. His chin, his jaw, behind his ear. But your favorite place was along the scar on his neck. The sound he made when your tongue glided along it had your panties absolutely soaked.

Bradley pressed you up against your door as he fumbled with his key ring to find the right one. Thankfully he managed to unlock the door without dropping you.

You were also thankful that you'd made sure to put Hydra and Cerberus in their crates in your spare bedroom for the night. You didn't want any unwanted visitors right now.

Once you were inside, the last ounce of decency you and Bradley had was gone. He slipped out of his shoes in your entry way. You kicked yours off somewhere behind him.

Now that you were behind closed doors, you wanted him naked. You pushed his floral print shirt off his shoulders as he sat you briefly on your feet to get you out of your pants .

He quickly yanked his white t-shirt off as you pushed his jeans down to his ankles and he kicked the the rest of the way off before picked you back up again.

Clad in only his boxers, Bradley was impossibly hard. As much as he wanted to lay you down and love you right. There was no way he was making it to your bedroom. He wanted you now.

Bradley settled on your couch with you perched in his lap. You could feel his erection pressing into you. You rolled your hips against him a few times. Bradley growled at the sensation. It felt amazing.

His hands came to the front of your blouse as he attempted to undo the tiny buttons that held it closed, but his fingers were just too big, and he fumbled over them.

Frustrated and desperate to feel more of your skin against his, Bradley pulled your top apart—hard.

The buttons went flying and scattered across the room as they clattered to the floor. You gasped against his mouth he pulled the now ruined piece of clothing your body.

You wanted to be mad at him, but the way his tongue was licking into your mouth, the way his lips felt against yours, how his large hands felt roaming your skin, made it impossible to be.

His hands lit a path of fire on your skin as they trailed up from their post on your waist. He palmed your breasts through the lace of your bra. He pulled the cups down, causing your soft flesh to spill over top, on display for him.

Bradley hummed in appreciation as he rolled one of your nipples between his fingers and caught the other one with his warm, wet mouth. He laved it to a stiff peak before pulling off with a soft pop and switching to the other.

You grapsed his curls tightly as he showed it the same attention. All the while, your cloth cover cunt moved in a steady rhythm over his tented boxers.

Bradley's lips moved to the valley of your breasts, where he left a line of sloppy kiss up to your collar bone. He lightly nipped the skin, causing you to gasp before reclaiming your lips.

Now, it was your turn to explore his skin. You pulled your lips away from him before greedily nipping and kissing across his firm jaw line. You left a trail of wet kisses down his neck and throat, causing him to groan from deep in his chest.

You then dragged your lips down his clavicle before pressing delicate kisses across his shoulder and up to his neck. You nipped his ear lob, and Bradley let out a wanton moan before one of his hands slid up up your neck and lightly gripped your throat. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to get your attention.

Bradley applied light pressure and used his grip to bring your mouth back to his.

He fucked his tongue into your mouth as you carded your fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp.

Bradley moaned as your hips worked faster against him.

He dropped his hands to your ass, grabbing two fistful of it to help guide your movements.

You wrapped your body tighter around him, squeezing his hips with your thighs as you let yourself get lost in the moment and how good it felt.

Bradley's hips canted up to your core faster and faster.

Each time, you could feel the fat head of his cock brush against your clit. You swore that he was going to make you cum before you even took you clothes off.

Bradley also found himself getting lost in the moment and how good it felt to kiss you while you writhed in his lap.

He didn't know how lost he was until his pelvis snapped erratically against yours.

"Fuck—shit—oh—fu—Angel—stop!" Bradley panted out with a shakey breath.

You immediately stilled your hips and looked at him wide eyes.

Oh Gods, you'd hurt him

"Wha—what's wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I do something wrong?" You asked, terrified of his answer.

Bradley met your eyes, and you studied his face. His cheeks were flushed, and not just from your kisses. He looked—embarrassed.

"No, Angel, you didn't—fuck—you didn't do anything wrong." Bradley said. "It's just—I—" He trailed off and hung his head.

You let out a deep breath when Bradley said that you hadn't done anything wrong. Relief washed over you, and you settled yourself back down on Bradley's thighs.

He jerked at the sensation, and that's when you felt it.

A warm, sticky wetness against the inside of your thighs that wasn't yours.

Your eyes went wide again at the realization.

"Bradley—Love, did you—did you—" you weren't even sure how to say it.

"I came in my boxers like a goddamn teenager." Bradley sighed as he raked his hands over his face.

"Angel, I am so fucking sorry. I swear this hasn't happened since the tenth grade when Sarah McCormick French kissed me in the back of the movie theater on our third date." Bradley sighs as he shakes his head.

You don't mean to, but you can't help it as a luagh bubbles out of you.

"It isn't funny. I'm thirty-five, and this shouldn't happen. You just felt so good, and I was so turned on. I've never finished before my partner like that! Just—just give me a few minutes to recover, and I'll make it up to you. I'll be so good for you, Baby." Bradley exclaims.

"Love, don't worry about it. And please don't feel bad that you didn't get me off. I've never had a man make me cum." You admit to him.

"Never?" Bradley looks at you like you have three heads.

"Well, I didn't get out much after everything with Persephone. In my time on Earth, I haven't had that many partners. I've found that I can't sleep with someone I'm not invested in. I haven't had sex in over fifty years. I kind of gave up on it. If James Dean couldn't get the job done, I figured that I'm probably broken. But I know how to take care of myself." You tell him.

"You slept with James Dean?" Bradley's eyes look like they might pop out of his skull.

"Yeah. It was—lackluster." You shrug.

"And no one has been able to make you cum—for a thousand years?" Bradley continues.

"I think it's because I could never get out of my head." You admit.

"Well, I'd like to try and fix that because you aren't broken. Can I try? Please?" Bradley almost begs. "Yes—please" you whisper against his lips as he kisses you.

But this time, it's slower— Bradley takes his time moving his mouth against yours with a purpose. He drags a hand down the curve of your spine before caressing your hip and splaying it over your stomach.

He slowly inches it down until he can dip his fingertips into the elastic of your panties. The pads of his fingers brush against you swollen bundle of nerves.

Bradley lightly taps on your clit before swirling two fingers around it.

He gages every reaction you make. He takes note over every little gasp and sound and hitch in your breath. He pays close attention to the way your body responds to him.

Bradley continues his journey southward and runs his knuckle through your slick folds before dipping into your slit with two fingers.

He curls them upwards, searching for that rough, rubbery spot that he's sure will have you seeing starts.

You jerk in his lap when he finds it. He zeros in on it, like a target in his F-18.

Oh Gods, does it feel good

You take your lip between your teeth as he draws his the pads of his fingers across it over and over again.

"Don't bit your lip. Don't hold any of your pretty little sounds in. I wanna hear you." He tells you before kissing you.

You leaned forward, pressing your body against his as he picked up the speed of his fingers. Bradley adds his thumb to the mix, drawing tight circles on your clit.

Your hips buck against his hand on their own accord. The lewd sounds of his fingers gliding through your wetness fill the room.

Bradley continues to work his hand against you, and you can't believe how fucking good it feels. Heat coils in your belly. You can feel it tightening in your stomach, you haven't felt this in such a long time.

Fuck, he's good at this

Bradley feels your pussy walls flutter around his fingers, griping his digits for dear life.

"You're gripping my fingers so tight, Baby. Feels so good." Bradley praises you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck as you feel the tension building.

Maybe you weren't broken after all

You're trying your best to stay of your head so you can enjoy this because it feels amazing.

You're close. The closest you've been in almost seventy years.

"Bra—Bradley." You whine ou against his neck.

"I know. I know, baby. Let it happen. Don't fight it. Let go." He encourages you.

So you don't fight it. You let it happen.

And after a few more strokes of his thumb, the band snaps, and you cum hard in his lap.

Your thighs tremble and shake as your whole body convulsed. Bright light errputs behind your eyes as you let out a loud groan of pleasure. It's so intense that your body feels like you're flying.

Bradley is captivated as he watches you fall apart for him.

Watching you shatter is, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Bradley had never been one to use the word "ethereal" to describe beauty. But the way you looked when you came for him, there was truly no other way to describe it.

He watched the fire dance in your eyes before you closed them and gave yourself full over to the pleasure. Your body practically glowed as you chanted his name over and over like a sacred prayer.

As you came down, he held you close, burying his face in the crook of your neck, whispering words of reassurance against your ear.

You feel boneless as you finally come down from your high. Your head is resting on Bradley's chest and you can hear his heart pounding.

"That was—that was amazing." You pant out.

"You looked so beautiful." Bradley praised you.

"Why don't we go take a shower and then lay down." Bradley suggested. You nodded and tried to stand up, but your legs felt like jello. Now, it was Bradley's turn to laugh as he carried you to the shower.

Both of you cleaned up quickly. You put Bradley's clothes in the washer for him for tomorrow.

You found the boxers and sweatpants he'd lent to you in your dryer. He slipped the boxers on while you grabbed his Top Gun tee, which was also fresh and clean, and put it one before you decided to skip the undies.

By the time Bradley helped you into bed, you could hardly keep your eyes open. You curled into his chest as he laid down beside you for a much better sleep than the night before.

Taglist: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @desert-fern @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @beccaanne814 @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @sunlightmurdock

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #tgm #rooster smut #rooster x reader #top gun rooster #tgm fandom #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #false god #Spotify

141 notes · View notes

ash-says · 2 months

Text

Hello dear ladies. I am back in the town with my rants again cause where's a girl gonna go in this patriarchy world to shout her opinions. Plus can't run the risk of letting them in on the game. What's the fun in that??

Anyways, first of all Happy Women's Day!!!!

Happy Mahashivratri ✨✨✨

As today is an auspicious day both internationally and personally for me religiously maybe I will talk about some deep stuff.

Let's get into it. Shall we??

1) Get a belief system. I can't stress enough on this for the love of God. I was listening to a podcast this morning and the host made a really nice analogy that I would like to share with you all. He said that we all have an immense amount of love in us that we want to shower and that's one of the reasons why we so desperately look for partnerships especially romantic ones and we are highly affected by break-up. But when you submit all your love and pain to god the equation changes. Because it's difficult to have earthly expectations towards God and the shift starts there.

Story time ->

I personally found it way easier to love God. Once you start turning in to him you realize how selfless your love can be. But the main reason that struck me was when you love people you are restricted. Let's be honest today's dating scene is the worst you can't express how you feel and for a person like me who has intense emotions it's suffocating and that's where God comes in picture because I just submit my love, struggles and suffocation to him and he is there all the while with me silently witnessing the upheaval without any judgement. That allows me to tap deeper into my issues, understand the roots, look at them from both emotional and logical angles and then detach from it as the supreme being is now in control of the situation.

So on this occasion I beg you ladies to fix your relationship with God. You will thank me later for sure.

2) Be Loud. Be Bold. Be Audacious. Take up space. Unapologetically. Don't let other people feel comfortable in making you uncomfortable. Nope. We do it the other way around here. They should know better than making you uncomfortable.

If there's something I am really proud of myself for at least 90% times is that I never let anyone make me uncomfortable. I have time and again consciously worked on it to make it a second nature to me.

Nobody is born outspoken. It's the situation and the person's decision, self will that makes them like that. So when anyone tries to put me down subtly even if it isn't registered in my conscious brain my subconscious answers it befittingly without my notice. Then I realise what actually happened.

Strive to make offense your second nature. Defense is first mixed in with kindness. Practise it consciously until it becomes a muscle memory.

Ending note: Be insufferable in public and a soft girl in private. That's how you even it out. Wail like a child in front of God but move like a queen among humans.

38 notes · View notes

made-ofmemories · 1 year

Text

Also on AO3

Click click click. It’s driving her insane, the rhythmic clicking of a Rubik's cube being turned over and over again. Robin has had to listen to it all morning. She’s standing by the cash register sorting through a pile of returns and Steve is sitting on the floor behind her, legs stretched out in front of him twisting the Rubik's cube around and around. She doesn’t think he’s even trying to solve it.

“Keith’s going to tear us both a new one if he finds you sitting on your ass, you know?” She says over her shoulder with mild disinterest. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t care about what Keith has to say, but they’re on their last strike and she really doesn’t want to go through the hassle of job hunting again.

“Keith’s not here and we haven’t had a customer in hours.” It’s barely more than a mutter followed by the thump of Steve’s head against the shelf he’s propped up against.

She sighs and turns to face him, crossing her arms as she leans back against the counter. He’s right it has been an exceptionally slow day, but there’s something else going on he’s just not telling her what. He was quiet on the way to work and he’s barely spoken a word since they got here, he just sits there frowning at that damn Rubik's cube.

“Alright.” She tries to sound stern, but it just comes out concerned, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“ Steve .” She moves to sit opposite him when he doesn’t respond, nudging his leg with her foot to get his attention. “Talk to me.”

“Eddie asked me out,” He blurts it out in such a rush she’s not sure she’s hearing correctly at first. “On a date.”

“Oh.”

She isn’t exactly surprised, Eddie has been flirting with Steve for weeks and every time Steve doesn’t shut it down he just gets bolder. Steve would have let him down gently, she’s sure of that. But Eddie is more sensitive than people realize under all that bravado and the last thing she wants is for him to get hurt, for either of them to get hurt. She should have done something about it, talked to Eddie, and stopped it before it got this far, but it never felt like her place to interfere.

“I’m sure it’ll be ok. He’ll understand, he-”

“I said yes.”

“ Oh .”

“Yeah, oh. ”

“And you want to?” She keeps her words slow and careful. “Go on this date I mean.” He nods, looks down at the Rubik's cube in his hands for a moment then back at her.

“I don’t think I’m gay, Robs.” He’s quiet when he speaks, lacking his usual confidence.

“Ok.” There’s a pause, but Robin doesn’t interrupt, just waits patiently until he’s ready to continue.

“I still like girls, it’s just…” He frowns, runs a hand through his hair, and lets out a frustrated groan as if he can’t quite find the words, “I think I like boys too. When I’m with Eddie I feel the same way I feel when I have a crush on a girl, and I don’t think Eddie is the first. I think I’ve felt it before with others, other men I mean, but I’ve always been too scared to admit it.”

“So you like both?” She asks, hoping she’s been following along correctly. He nods again.

“Do you think I’m weird?”

“Oh absolutely.” She shuffles across the distance between them so they’re side by side and takes one of his hands into hers, their fingers intertwined. “I’ve always thought you were a weirdo, dingus. But not because of that.” It earns her a smile and he lets his head drop onto her shoulder.

“I really like him.” He sounds all dreamy and lovestruck and she has to bite her tongue to resist the urge to tease him for it, he just makes it too easy sometimes.

“I’m glad you told me.”

“I wanted to tell you earlier,” He admits, “But I didn’t know how, I was still figuring it all out myself I think.”

“Does that mean you’re going to put that damn Rubik's cube down now.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “No more Rubik's cube.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else and she doesn’t want to push more than she already has so she holds onto his hand a little tighter and embraces the companionable silence they’ve fallen into. The sound of the door opening comes a few minutes later and she shrugs the shoulder Steve is leaning on, not entirely sure if he’s even still awake. She doubts he got much sleep last night.

“Your turn,” She tells him and he gets up without argument.

“Hi! Welcome to-” He starts in his usual overly peppy customer service tone before he cuts himself off, “Oh- Hi Keith!”

“Oh shit,” Robin mutters under her breath, scrambling to her feet as quickly as possible. She grabs a tape on her way up so it at least looks like she was down there searching for something and gives Keith the brightest smile she can muster.

“We are so screwed,” Steve whispers through gritted teeth as they watch Keith making his way toward them.

“I heard the coffee shop across the street was hiring?” She offers in a similarly hushed tone. She’s only partially joking.

#stobin fic #stobin #platonic stobin #steddie #stranger things #because I had to write the classic Steve coming out to robin fic obviously #I really like this one!!

285 notes · View notes

jellyfishoreo1206 · 7 months

Text

Part 1 is here

It's gonna be short compared to the rest

"Put the cheese down." You didn't even have to turn around to know that Gavril was attempting to put a whole container of cheese in his coat, his attempt of stealing quickly causing him to shove the container back where he got it. A huff from him was all you needed to confirm your suspicions, a small smile tugging at the ends of your lips as you looked over the different types of breads.

It was somewhat early in the morning, only been an hour since the store opened when the two of you arrived anyway, which was actually nice. Barely anyone around and being able to get your things more quickly since there'll be nobody at the checkout lines.

Though, from the corner of your eye, you could see an employee at the other end of the aisle, seemingly to busy themselves with something on the shelves. They've been there for quite a while now, and whenever the pair of you would move to a different aisle, they always seemed to have something to do in that one as well.

Seems like they were suspicious, more so, it was Gavril they were suspicious of.

You can't really blame them to be honest. He did literally just try to shoplift several containers of cheese with your back turned and right in front of them.

"What do you want to eat later?" To be honest you're not sure how long he'll stay as he did stay the night over at your place, hopefully for another few hours to at least get some proper food in his stomach. A lot of the food in the fridge was a few days past the expiration date...

Take out seems like a good option, you didn't really feel like cooking or cleaning today. "Mmm whatever you want, as long as it has cheese in it." He appears right behind you now, draping his arms around you as he settles his chin atop your head a small smile on his face. Not that you can see it.

Well, that certainly narrows it down. What could you order that will have an abundance of cheese on it? Well the answer is simple.

Pizza. It may be too early for it but it's the only thing you can think off the top of your head.

"How about pizza? We'll pick up a box or two on the way home." Looking up, you can't really gouge his thinking process to the idea since he literally placed his chin on top your head, but it seemed that he liked the idea as he hummed in a positive way.

"Sure, I don't mind."

"Alright, also we should really hurry up I think the employees are getting suspicious.." As you glanced back at the employee at the end, it seemed that while you were talking another employee joined the former. And it seemed like they were about to confront you so quickly you passed them with Gavril in tow, rushing to the register.

On the way home, you kept your promise and made sure to have extra EXTRA cheese put on the pizzas.

He was a happy little guy in the end.

#bubo series #gavril #gavril game #fanart #bubo series fanart #gavril fanart #rat man #bubo series fanfiction #gavril fanfiction

70 notes · View notes

renova-writes · 1 year

Text

you don’t love him

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 702

warnings: cheating, language, implied seggsual activity

a/n: I wanted to write something based on The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift because I’ve been listening to that song a lot but it ended up not really being like that. idk. I’m just trying to get back into writing but I’ve been too preocupied with having my work be good so I’m trying to write for fun right now before working on my (way more dark/serious) novel ideas. long intro. sorry. enjoy :)

masterlist

It was a busy day. You were working at a coffee bar downtown. The cold weather and finals for the college students always resulted in nonstop traffic. You were five hours into your eight hour shift and hadn’t gotten a chance to sit down.

“Bucky?!” you gawked, spilling the coffee you were carrying. You had dated him on and off for a couple years. Then last year, he broke things off officially. You had moved on, found a different guy who you were happy with.

“Hi, Doll.” He smiled from the counter. He glanced down at your blue employee shirt. It was wet and stained from the coffee. “Something wrong?”

“No. I’m fine.” You said, walking up to the register. “What do you want, Bucky?”

“Hey, what’s with the attitude, doll? I just want a large black coffee.” The little prick knew what he was doing.

“It’ll be $4.95. Name?”

“From the way you used to scream it, you know my name.” He smirked, handing you a 5. “Keep the change.”

You blushed, but were secretly thinking that you were going to spit in his coffee. “I have a boyfriend, Bucky.”

“Sure you do.” He smiled and turned away.

You didn’t end up spitting in his coffee. That was too mean. Instead you made the three people behind him’s drinks even though he had the simplest order. After twenty minutes, you figured he’d get suspicious so you finally called his name.

“This is for you, doll,” Bucky winked, handing you a few bills. You looked at them. There was a crisp twenty and an old soft one. On the one, he had written the spot, 7. You stared at those words.

The spot was technically an alleyway where you two used to meet in Clinton Hill. It was about halfway between your place in Manhattan and Bucky’s place in Brooklyn. You’d meet there whenever you were going out with him. What the spot really was, though, was the cafe down the block that you went to whenever Bucky was more than twenty minutes late. And he was usually late.

You got off at six that night. You sent a quick text to your boyfriend, telling him that you might be back late, and got on the train to Brooklyn.

That night you took your time to get there. There was no way Bucky would be there at 7 you thought. He had never been on time once. But lo and behold, standing there at 6:57, three minutes early, was Bucky. He was wearing a leather jacket and held a bouquet of flowers.

“Hi there, Doll.” He smiled, holding out the bouquet. “I got these for you.”

“Bucky, I told you, I have a boyfriend. I love him.”

“And yet you came all the way out here to meet me. Doll, I don’t think you really love him.”

“I am. He’s so sweet and respectful. He holds the door open for me, he always keeps his promises, my parents like him- Bucky, you were never any of those things.”

“I can be. I promise.”

“You said that last time. And the time before that. And the time before that. Why should this time be any different? And besides, I’m happy.”

“Are you?” He stared into your eyes before pulling you into a kiss. A roller coaster of emotion came rushing to you. You remembered being with Bucky. How you guys would fight and break up, only for one of you to come rushing back to the other’s apartment a few days later. This kiss was just like all the others. It was intoxicating and exhilarating and you wanted more.

When you woke up in Bucky’s bed the next morning, you weren’t surprised or angry with yourself. Not even the dozens of missed texts and calls from your boyfriend gave you any feeling of regret. Instead, you thought about how the universe kept pulling you back to him, and how you would be a fool to ignore it. You had missed Bucky and the way you loved him.

“See, Doll. You don’t love him. You belong with me.”

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I fucking missed that.” He groaned. “I love you too.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky hot #hot bucky #bucky barnes hot #bucky barnes daddy #daddy bucky #babydoll #avengers smut #avegers #marvel

96 notes · View notes

msphattt · 1 month

Text

pepper kisses

Oikawa stood you up for date night again, but he makes it up to you.

Oikawa x fem!reader

tags - vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, make-up sex (kind of), established relationship

2436 words

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

The moon sat high in the air, shining, and you wished it could provide heat against the slight breeze of autumn.

Goosebumps began to form on your arms as you rubbed your hands rubbed them slightly, and to no avail. You weren’t that cold, but he had been teasing you relentlessly, edging and keeping you hot and bothered with dirty messages throughout the day, constantly making you think of all the things he said he would do to you after date night, that never came.

The trees rocked with the wind, slowly as it blew, a slight chill running over your neck, making you shudder lightly. Closing the front door with sexual frustration and disappointment, you pouted at the door without seeing his car in the driveway, “another ‘emergency,’ you sighed, as you felt your eyes rolling.

Maybe it was petty, maybe you were being a brat, but it was becoming more difficult to control the annoyance that rose whenever he stood you up. It was the second time this month, the second Friday, the second time missing date night. You grew irritable, turning your phone off and grabbing a blanket to sit on the couch, refusing to let him ruin your night. He promised that his new position would allow him more time for your relationship, but it seemed that he continued to put you last. The night was still young, looking over the alarm clock reading 8: 16, you wondered what could have happened this time.

The first time he stood you up was through text, telling you that he needed to stay later and continue his training for regionals. You understood then but couldn’t understand now due to it being his off-season.

After grabbing your water and turning your movie on, you cuddled up with a pillow on the couch, not ideal but all you had. The pressures of the day began to catch up with you and your body began to melt into the sofa, your eyes growing heavy and your breaths deepening.

You awoke with a jump, hearing continuous banging on the door as if someone was attempting to beat it down. You got up quickly, not even remembering your skimpy shorts and see through crop top that you were wearing to bed, your blanket completely forgotten.

You swung the door open quickly, with anger, fear, and confusion running through your body all at the same time. Your eyes adjusted to him, anger taking over completely. Oikawa stood straight, looking at you with just as much anger but there was a slight fear behind his eyes as well. “Are you insane?!” you screamed. “I have neighbors, why are you pounding on my door? Where the hell-” He cut you off, walking right through the door and into your apartment before you could try and register what was happening, to stop him from going through. “Why aren’t you answering your goddamn phone, I called you like 15 times,” he spoke, his voice and demeanor calm after seeing you were safe.

You rubbed your eyes slightly as he continued about answering his calls and not ignoring him, “You should be the last one questioning me,” you said, attitude dripping off every word. You rolled your eyes and locked your door, going to the couch to turn your phone back on. It beeped and buzzed rapidly for a few seconds, updating you on what you missed, which was nothing but 16 missed calls from Oikawa and an email about missing your dinner reservations.

You began folding your blanket as he questioned you again, “why weren’t you answering your phone? What the hell is your problem now?!” Anger flashed across your face as you aimed to throw the folded blanket at him. “YOU, you are my problem! Get out,” you said as you moved closer, shoving his chest as hard you could without much success. “You are so damn smug, you don’t even care that you stood me up, AGAIN, get out, just GET OUT!” you screamed, trying harder to push and shove him relentlessly, his larger frame remained still against your failed attempts.

He grabbed your arms, pushing you against the wall, a feeling of disturbance stirred in your stomach as you grew nervous after looking at his face, lust, and interest evident in the way he looked down at you, like a predator stalking its prey.

Your head swarmed with confusion, the air in the room changed quickly as the faint white glow of the television provided just enough light to see Oikawa’s face. It felt like you had been caught and cornered, your ears heating up with nervousness as you realized the predicament. The skimpy night shorts and thin crop top did nothing to cover your body under his gaze.

His left hand held both of yours together behind your back, the roughness of his palm covering your soft ones. His right hand came up to your neck, his middle and ring finger grasping your neck softly, releasing butterflies in your stomach when he released his fingers. A shiver ran down your spine and your nipples perked, sitting against his thin, white dress shirt, his knee between your legs, pushing you and pressing your body into the wall with his.

The heat sitting on your ears quickly spread through your body, your cheeks flushing slightly as your core became hot with pleasure, throbbing against his knee and making you ache as you have been all day. You turned your head slightly, trying to move your attention to anywhere other than his eyes. “Look at me, now.” He spoke in a low and intimidating tone, but your stubbornness wouldn’t allow you to heed his direction.

The absence of his hand around your neck was sudden as it rose to your chin, pulling your eyes to his. “You get all riled up in these tiny shorts, what reaction did you expect out of me? You probably had it in your dirty mind to plan all of this out, is this what you wanted?” his voice was dripping with lust and anticipation, his nose brushing against yours slightly as his knee rubbed against your core, your nipples pressed against his chest and your arms still held together behind your back. The rising of your chest made it easy for him to see how your body was reacting to him, despite your stubborn attitude.

A sudden rush of air hit you as he dragged you off the wall and dropped you on the couch, grabbing your ankle to pull you after trying to scoot back from him. “You can’t get away from me now, baby, I’m going to fuck that bratty little attitude right out of you.” You yelped from the slap he placed on your ass, the hot sting causing you to arch off the couch. His fingers traveled against your thigh, slowly creeping up closer with his right hand, his left hand holding your arms above your head. Your eyes closed and you turned your head away again as you felt his middle finger drag your slick up to your clit slowly, kissing your ears and groaning lowly.

His kisses felt like soft feathers, moving delicately from your ears to your cheeks and down to brush against your lips. His head turned to find your eyes as your chest continued to rise and fall faster and faster, everything becoming too much to handle. “No, baby,” he started lowly, a teasing hint to his voice irritated you further, “you need to look at me if you want me to touch you, it wouldn’t be fair not to, would it?” He was being smug; he knew you were being stubborn and wouldn’t speak to him and he was using his teasing to get his way.

Your head turned slowly to meet his, your eyes low and your mouth parted, soft pants blowing through your lips. “Mm, look at that pretty face, you look so pretty baby,” his sweet words caused your core to throb even more as his kisses continued to pepper your face. His fingers drew small circles around your clit as your core continued to clench and you wiggled slightly, yearning to be touched as you wanted to all day.

He pulled his head back to look into your eyes just as his middle and ring finger pushed into your whole, his fingers brushing inside you and giving you some relief. You gasped at the sensation and bit your lip to stifle your moan, your shallow breaths falling through your lips as you struggled to hold his gaze. You blinked and looked down at where his fingers drew out slowly and pushed back in, deep into your core until your eyes watered slightly.

It was getting difficult to try and deny the reaction your body had to his touch, he was everywhere and in every sense.

His eyes locked on yours.

His mouth meshed with yours.

His hands were all you felt.

His groans were all you heard.

His scent was all you smelled.

It all became too much, too overwhelming when you were trying to maintain your stubborn act. Your hands tugged against his and he pulled his fingers from your core, sucking his fingers off before reaching to pull off his tie. His white dress shirt, black slacks and black tie contradicted with your skimpy shorts and thin shirt that was exposing your chest. You moved to sit up and scoot back to the corner of the couch as he stood in front of you. He smirked slightly and placed his ties over your eyes before you had any chance to protest.

“If you move your hand from behind your back, I’ll stop immediately. If you want me to take the blindfold off, then I need you to use your words baby,” he said softly. You felt your shorts being pulled from your legs, the cool air hitting your hot and leaking core, causing your hole to clench at nothing. You bit your bottom lip as his tongue licked a long stripe along your clit, sucking on it and digging his tongue into your hole to fill you with his mouth. Your back arched and your mouth opened, gasping while trying to hold in your moans.

His fingers felt as if they were hitting you deeper and deeper, filling you up and stimulating your clit at the same time. His kisses met your neck as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, your moans getting more difficult to suppress.

Your hole continued to clench around his fingers as he kissed you softly and whispered soft praise in your ears, the knot in your stomach tightened as your teeth bit down on your lip harder. Your back arched even more, the top of your head hitting the sofa cushion, the knot in your stomach close to unraveling. Oikawa pulled his fingers from you, hooking your leg around his waist and pulling his slacks down just enough to enter you. The sudden intrusion made you son, a drawled and broken moan releasing from the back of your throat. Oikawa’s groan hit your ears, making you hot all over as you tried and failed to maintain your resolve against his relentless pounding. His hips slapped into yours roughly, gripping the back of your thighs tightly as he pressed your thighs back toward your chest, folding you in half and continuing his punishment for your attitude.

Your moans grew louder and louder the harder you tried holding them in, the pleasure preventing you from caring of anything else. His lips met your nipples as they fell from your crop top, causing you to whine and gush on him further, high pitched moans and gasps falling from your lips.

“I’m sorry I missed date night baby, it won’t happen again,” he groaned into your neck, kissing, licking, and sucking until you were bucking your hips up into him, begging for your clit to be rubbed as you felt so close to your release. He kissed small apologies into your neck as the pleasure began to wash over you, the slow knot forming as he continued his unforgiving pace, thrusting into you as if he wanted to break you, hitting your spot so good that you couldn’t help but moan loudly while he pounded into your spot over and over, showing no mercy. Your toes clenched and gripped the sofa under you, your hips bucking up causing tears to form at the immense pleasure you felt.

The cool air hit your nipples, causing them to tighten as you pushed your chest into his, rubbing against him to try and satiate the hunger your body felt from his touch. “Tell me you forgive me baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered against your ear, sucking the tip of your ear causing you to shiver. A tear fell from your eyes as his thumb met your clit, his harsh thrusts being met with a blinding pleasure. “Fuck, yes Tooru, I forgive you, I forgive you,” you moaned out, fucked dumb and only worried about reaching your orgasm, the entire reason for your attitude had left your mind a long time ago. Your hand pushed into the couch behind you, his body weight preventing you from moving them, leaving you to grip the cushions as your hole clenched rapidly and the knot began to tighten even more.

“I feel you baby, I feel you, let it go,” he groaned out, kissing your top lip and moaning into your hair, his thrust becoming harder and the pace continuing to make you see stars. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned out, your nipples perked, and your arm flew from your back as he leaned back to push your knees deeper into your chest.

A long, porn-like moan erupted from your throat, your wet lashes pushing against the tie as your cheeks dampened with tears, your nails dug into his bicep as your head flew back, his tongue pushed into your mouth as he swallowed your moan, your body shaking as you continued to gush over him, soon feeling his hot seed fall into your core as he slowed the rub on your clit.

He pulled out slowly, taking the blindfold off and wiping your tears that fell from being caught in the corner of your eyes. Your eyes adjusted to the light, and you met his, your fucked out expression making him bite his lip and kiss you softly, a sigh leaving your mouth. “No more attitude,” he said sternly, kissing you again and pulling you closer to fuck you slow all night.

#haikyu smut #haikyuu #ao3 writer #cross posted on ao3

15 notes · View notes

megahwn · 1 year

Text

Swan Song

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x female reader

Genre: hybrid!au; speed dating!au; strangers to lovers

Word Count: 11.030

Rating:18+

Warnings: asexuality mention; alcohol mentions/consumption; explicit language; discussion of mistreatment of hybrids; fondling over clothes; nipple play; handjob; feather play; cunnilingus; vaginal fingering; finger sucking; unprotected vaginal intercourse; almost simultaneous orgasms; creampie

Summary: You think your choice to attend a local speed dating event is a complete waste of time, as you don’t feel a spark with anyone. Then you meet your final date.

A/N: Part of @jeonggukkiepabo‘s Hybrid Collab. The questions asked in this fic come from {THE AND} Strangers Edition, which can be found here.

At this exact moment, you can’t think of anything worse than speed dating.

Your best friend, lovable thing that she is, somehow managed to convince you that you needed to ‘get out more’ and ‘meet new people.’ The thing that no one knows about you, however, is this: you think you might be incapable of romantic love. You’ve never even really felt attracted to another person, much less had any kind of feelings of affection for them. Bottom line, you think you might be broken. (Either that or you belong on the asexual/aromantic spectrum, which is completely valid but you don’t think is an accurate description of how you feel. It’s… confusing.)

Anyway, your best friend still believes in you even if you don’t, so she introduced you to the world of ‘fancy bar speed dating’. You’re meant to go to a fancy bar, as the name implies, get a drink, and sit at a table as several men cycle through. You’re meant to chit-chat and get to know each other over the course of five minutes. Then, once the night ends, you meet back up with anyone you felt like you had a spark with and exchange information or plan to see each other again. While you still don’t really think anything productive will come out of this evening, you had allowed yourself to become just a bit excited about the night ahead while you were getting ready earlier.

Right now, however, you find yourself nursing your drink while your first date of the night speaks to you from across the table, and you just know you should have stayed home with your ice cream and wine.

The guy is nice enough, attractive even, but Jesus his life sounds boring. He apparently goes to the gym every morning at 6:00am before starting his office job a few hours later. You don’t even register the rest of what he says about his work, because at that moment the daydreaming side of your brain kicks in and takes your mind on a complete tangent. You begin wondering how you would fare if you worked at a desk instead of with the kids who keep you on your feet at all hours of the day. Then you begin thinking about how you want to move up the proverbial ladder at work, and how you need to go back to school to make that happen. The prospect excites you and makes you nervous all at once.

“-But the only reason I didn’t win that marathon is because I helped an older guy who fell down near the finish line. The video went pretty viral, maybe you saw it.”

You realize the man has paused his speech for you to respond to him, so you take a large gulp of your drink to give yourself some time to come up with something to say. The alcohol burns the back of your throat.

“Um… no, actually, I haven’t seen the video. Sorry,” you finally manage to get out somewhat dumbly. The man’s face morphs from one of self-assuredness to one of disappointment almost immediately. You can’t say you care very much, if you’re being honest.

Your second date is no better, if not worse. This guy brought a list - an actual, physical list - of qualities that he ‘requires’ any partner of his to possess. Before you’re even able to introduce yourself completely, he’s already reading them off the piece of paper like he can’t remember them if he doesn’t read them verbatim.

“So basically I’m gonna need you to be honest about everything, be good with kids because we’ll have at least four, be a great cook, never wear anything that I don’t approve of…”

That’s where you tune him out completely.

It’s disconcerting that this egomaniac thinks he can treat a date like an interview and actually get a woman that way. What’s worse, though, is that you actually do possess some of the qualities he had rattled off at you. Maybe it’s time for a new personality.

The night continues exactly as you feared it would: with you, tequila sunrise in hand, unimpressed by any of the men who come to your table. There's nothing wrong with them, per se (okay, the guy with the list was pretty bad), but you just don't feel a spark… with any of them. You don't find them interesting or exciting. One man droned on for so long about his fratty college days that you were tempted to pretend the buzzer had gone off just to get rid of him.

Just as you decide you are ready to throw in the towel and go home to your ice cream and wine, the host announces that it is time for the final round of dates. You debate with yourself for a moment, wondering whether you can stand another five minutes with another man you don't care about, when someone sits down across from you and begins to speak. You look up from your drink to interrupt him and make up some bullshit excuse for why you suddenly have to leave, but as soon as you lock eyes with the stranger, your words die in your throat.

The man is practically ethereal in his beauty, from his raven hair to his dark chocolate eyes to his full cherry lips to - are those dimples? What the hell is this guy doing here when he's this gorgeous? There must be something wrong with him, you quickly decide. You double down on your decision to leave the place before the round ends when you accidentally tune in to what the man is saying to you, and boy does it make you wish you had been paying attention to him earlier.

"- So basically I've been wanting to meet you since I saw you at the bar earlier, but I got really nervous so I went to the bathroom and hid my wings under my jacket. So... yeah." The man ends his speech with a huff of what sounds like frustration or... embarrassment, maybe? You don't even register anything he had said to you because he genuinely looks so sad now, and you find that you actually feel bad about it.

Wait.

"What did you say about wings?" you ask, more intensely than you had meant to sound. The man's head shoots up and a look of fear flashes across his face for a moment before he appears to steel himself.

"Out of everything I just said," he starts, sounding cautious, "you're the most interested in my wings?"

Wow, okay, you think, you definitely have to come clean about not hearing the first half of whatever this guy was saying, because apparently mentioning his wings was not the correct thing to do.

"Okay," you reply, "I need to be honest here. I missed a whole bunch of what you said at first, and only really started paying attention when you said you had been wanting to meet me since the bar. If you said something about your... wings... before that, then I missed it. So if it's not too much trouble, could you start from the beginning?"

Why, why did you just say all that? Why did you even ask about his wings in the first place? You had literally just decided there had to be something wrong with this guy and that you needed to go home anyway, that tonight was a total bust. Why in the world are you still sitting here and actually having a back-and-forth with the man? And why do you feel so relieved to see him smile right now? Before you can freak out any more than you already have, you focus your attention back onto the stranger as he begins to speak again.

“Okay, so I’m guessing you didn’t hear the part about me being a hybrid, then?” A shy smile graces his face as he speaks, and he dips his head but peeks up at you, seemingly to gauge how you will react to his revelation. That’s when it clicks for you.

This guy is nervous for you to know that he’s a hybrid.

But why?

There are some people out there who are still stuck in the past, who can’t accept that hybrids now live among humans as their equals. But that’s never been how you think. You’ve been friends with hybrids for many years. Hell, even some of your family members are married to hybrids, so you’ve been surrounded by them since you were little.

Do you give off some sort of anti-hybrid vibe that this guy is picking up on? You really hope not. You don’t stop to ponder why you hope that.

“Do you think I don’t like hybrids or something?” you blurt out without thinking any further. The man’s eyes widen and he begins shaking his head vigorously.

“No, no! It’s not that at all!” he says earnestly. His voice then softens considerably when he says, “It’s just that, um… usually, when I tell people - I mean, women - that I’m a hybrid, they get all excited and want to know more about that, but they don’t want to know more about me as a person.”

“Oh, ew,” you say immediately, distaste bubbling up inside you at the thought of humans fetishizing hybrids.

“Yeah,” the man says, his face falling slightly. “So I didn’t want you to only be interested in me because of that, so I hid my wings. But then I felt like I would be lying to you if I didn’t say anything about them, so that’s why I told you as soon as I sat down.”

“It’s not lying,” you respond after a beat, leaning forward and placing your elbows onto the table that sits between you and the handsome hybrid. “It’s totally okay to not want someone to use you or pretend to be interested in you just because you’re a hybrid. I get why you would want to hide your wings because of that.”

The man smiles softly, and a light blush spreads across his cheeks. “I’m Namjoon, by the way. I don’t think I ever actually introduced myself in my embarrassing rush to be honest.”

You snort at Namjoon’s cute self-deprecating comment and grin back at him as you introduce yourself. Your curiosity still burns into your thoughts, though, so you attempt to sound casual when you say, “So... what kind of hybrid thinks he needs to attend a speed dating event, anyway?”

Namjoon’s blush appears to deepen at your question. “A rare one with very little confidence,” he replies back, although it sounds more like a question than a statement.

“A rare one, huh?” you reply, barely able to conceal your curiosity at this point. You don’t want to make it seem like you’re doing exactly the thing Namjoon feared you would do, but you really want to know exactly what kind of hybrid he is.

As Namjoon nods in response to your question, you remember that you hadn’t been paying attention to him when he was speaking earlier. Maybe he mentioned what kind of hybrid he was then and you just didn’t catch it, you think excitedly. You mentally thank your scatterbrainedness for paying off in this moment.

“Did you mention what kind of hybrid you were when I wasn’t paying attention?” you attempt to sound apologetic when you speak. Namjoon rolls his eyes good-naturedly and chuckles slightly.

“I don’t think I did, actually,” he responds lightly, as though he has already become comfortable with you and your questions. He doesn’t say anything else though. He just looks at you expectantly, as if he wants you to just come out and ask the question already.

Are you reading the signals correctly? You’re not sure what to do at this point, considering that only a few moments ago Namjoon seemed almost afraid to let you know that he was a hybrid at all, and now it seems like he’s completely open about it and even wants you to ask him about it. What brought about such a quick change? Maybe it was your earlier responses to him speaking about the struggles of dating as a hybrid. Maybe he wanted you to ask, but he was just nervous about what you’d do if you found out.

But why you? Why does he feel comfortable with you, when you’ve known each other for fewer than five minutes? And why do you feel comfortable with him? You’re honestly confused, but at the same time you notice something in yourself that feels like… gratitude, maybe? Appreciation? Whatever it is, you do know that you think Namjoon’s ability to put his fears aside for you, whatever the reason may be, is possibly the most attractive thing about him to you in this moment. Even more than those dimples.

You brace yourself to ask what kind of hybrid he is and possibly be that person and ruin everything because, dammit, you really just can’t help yourself at this point. If you read the signs wrong after all, then so be it. It’s not like this guy is your soulmate or anything. (Right? Right.)

Just as you open your mouth to speak, however, the final buzzer sounds and the announcer’s voice booms into the room, interrupting your stream of consciousness and bringing you back into the present.

“Alright, folks, that’s the end of the evening! If you managed to find a spark with anyone here tonight, feel free to leave us a kind Yelp review! Good night!”

You and Namjoon roll your eyes simultaneously, then catch the other’s gaze and begin to giggle. Neither one of you moves to get up from the table even though everyone else is clearing out from the speed dating area, either leaving the building entirely or heading back to the bar.

For some reason, your time with Namjoon has lifted your mood immensely and you are no longer pining for your ice cream and wine back at home. What is this feeling you’re experiencing? Why does this guy have such an effect on you? You want to question it further, but you find that you’re too taken with Namjoon to do so. You just know that five minutes with him was not enough time. Not even close.

“So, you gonna leave a good Yelp review?” you ask cheekily, hoping to stall the man across from you. Namjoon’s eyebrows shoot up and his cheeks redden once more.

“Um… uh…” he stammers cutely.

“Because I think I might have to,” you continue honestly. You have no desire to lie to him, and you’re not afraid of how he might react. Namjoon doesn’t say anything, but his ears do take on the same shade of crimson as his face. Why does that make your insides hotter?

When Namjoon’s stammering continues, you decide to take a different approach and ask him, “Do you like playing games?”

Namjoon clamps his lips together and nods at you.

You’re really glad you stayed for the final round.

As soon as you step into your apartment, your puppy runs to the door to greet you, tail wagging. You take on your baby voice immediately and exclaim, “Hi, bubby! I missed you!”

You almost forget about Namjoon standing in your doorway during your puppy greeting ritual, until the dog moves on from you and jumps up onto Namjoon’s legs to get some ear scratches.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry! Muffin, get down!” You move to take your puppy away from Namjoon’s nice slacks, but before you can, Namjoon is petting Muffin like she is his own dog.

Your insides get hot again at the sight of Namjoon gently petting your dog’s ears. You roll your eyes internally and remind yourself that it isn’t actually that crazy that Namjoon is a dog-lover. Lots of people are dog-lovers, after all.

Once Muffin leaves Namjoon’s side and trots back over to her designated spot on your sofa, you lead Namjoon from the entryway into your living room.

Your place is pretty small, but in a way that’s cozy rather than suffocating. You decorated it well, if you do say so yourself. You filled it up with your books and your plants and your artwork, and it makes you happy. Your favorite part of your apartment, though, is the little corner that houses your record player and all of your records. You make a beeline for that corner of your living room and put on your favorite record. Then you offer Namjoon a glass of wine, which he readily accepts.

You come back from the kitchen, two full glasses in hand, and you have no choice but to drink in the sight before you. Namjoon is perched on the middle cushion of your sofa, once again petting Muffin’s ears. At some point while you were pouring wine, Namjoon must have lit the candles sitting atop your coffee table. They are burning bright, shining a light over Namjoon’s tan skin that makes him look almost iridescent. When he hears you come into the room, he looks up at you, smiling softly with his pillowy lips and gorgeous dimples. You want to burn this sight into the back of your memory and save it there forever.

Before you can stumble over your words, which you know you absolutely would after seeing Namjoon smiling at you like that, you make your way over to the coffee table to put down the wine and then over to your bookshelf to retrieve the game you had been planning on having him play with you. The box is an unassuming little yellow thing, but you know what’s inside it is what really matters.

“Okay,” you say as you walk back toward the couch, opening the box as you move. “This game is really simple. We go back and forth asking each other questions and answering them. Every question must be asked, but not every question must be answered. If you don’t want to answer a question, you have to look the other person in the eyes for ten seconds before saying, ‘Pass.’ Got it?”

By now, you’re sitting on the only available part of the sofa, right next to Namjoon. You hadn’t realized until now, but as you were explaining the game to him, you had not only sat down next to him, but also put your feet up and sort of shimmied them underneath his legs. Before you even have time for any kind of embarrassment to bloom inside you, though, Namjoon is responding to your explanation with a simple, “Got it,” as he continues to pet your dog next to him.

“Okay, cool,” you say, trying to remain calm. “Do you want to ask first or answer first?” you ask, getting the cards out of the box and setting them on the coffee table where you both can reach them.

“Um… I think I’ll ask first,” Namjoon replies. “I want to know what kinds of questions these are before I have to answer one myself.”

You chuckle at his candor, then sit back against the arm of the sofa and gesture to the pile of cards neatly stacked in front of you both.

“Okay,” Namjoon says with finality in his voice. He reaches toward the table and picks up a card, then reads it to himself.

“Oh, okay,” he says, more to himself than to you. “So they’re like, conversation starters, kind of? Okay, yeah, this is fine.”

You smile slightly at Namjoon’s words, and you wonder what kinds of questions he had originally thought the cards might have held. Before you can ask him, though, he is posing your first question to you.

“What’s a mistake you’ve made that affected your life for the better?” Namjoon reads from the card, sounding almost official in his tone. You can tell that he takes what you’re doing seriously. You would never admit how much that fact is turning you on right now, though.

You think for a moment about how you can best reply to this question. You want to be truthful, of course, but you also want to be interesting and maybe a little mysterious in your response.

When your answer comes to you, you can’t help but smile broadly. Namjoon must notice your excitement, because he smiles back at you just the same.

“I had a summer job once,” you begin. “And to this day I think it was the best job I’ve ever had. I worked as a camp counselor for kids with different disabilities. I basically helped them with all the stuff a camp counselor helps kids with, but I also helped them shower, brush their teeth - stuff like that, you know?”

The man next to you nods in acknowledgement, and you continue.

“So even though it was my favorite job, I got in trouble a couple times for advocating for my campers in a way that wasn’t exactly polite. Eventually I ended up yelling at the camp’s assistant director because I had this firm belief that she didn’t give a shit about the counselors and I got fired for it.”

It’s here that Namjoon’s expression changes from concentration into surprise. His eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline and his jaw even drops slightly. You can tell he wants to ask you something, but he remains quiet in order to let you finish your story. You appreciate that more than you thought you would. Then again, after tonight’s disastrous speed dating experience, you think that Namjoon waiting for you to finish speaking is exactly what you need and deserve.

“The reason I’m grateful for the experience, though,” you say as you near the end of your story, “is that if I had been able to go back the next summer, I wouldn’t have gotten Muffin and I wouldn’t have had her for my last year of school when I was living alone.”

Namjoon turns toward Muffin for a moment, continuing to pet her behind the ears as she snoozes comfortably. He then turns back to you, a questioning look in his eyes.

“Am I allowed to ask any follow-up questions?” he asks with a hint of hesitation in his voice.

“Of course!” you reply easily as you move to stand. “This game is meant to foster conversation, you know? It only makes sense that follow-up questions are allowed. They’re actually encouraged. Oh, do you want anything to eat?”

“Yes please,” Namjoon says with a sigh. “It’s been such a long day.”

“Aw, really?” you say as you start raiding your fridge for leftovers. “How come?”

“Oh, just… work is stressful, family is stressful, dating is stressful. You know, the usual.”

“Wow,” you draw out dramatically. “So you’re saying I’m stressful, huh?” you continue with jest in your voice.

Namjoon sputters, then replies, “No! No, that’s not what I meant at all. I, uh… I just meant that, uh… oh gosh, what did I mean? What did I even say?” He sounds hopelessly confused.

You giggle as you carry the containers of Chinese takeout back toward the living room couch. You give one to Namjoon, who has one hand over his blushing face while he sighs. You then hold your own with both hands to stop yourself from moving Namjoon’s hand away from his face. You won’t admit it to him, but you like that he gets flustered by your words.

“You were saying that dating is stressful and then I made fun of you,” you say matter-of-factly before taking a large bite of lo mein.

Namjoon removes his hand from his face and indignantly whines, “You were just making fun of me? That’s so rude. Here I am thinking you’re actually offended by what I said.” His face is still burning red, and he looks down into his food with a pout. A very cute pout.

To stop Namjoon from getting too far into his own thoughts, you lightly place a hand on his shoulder and say, “I was kidding, you walnut. I know you meant that the speed dating thing was stressful. Believe me, it was the same for me, too.”

Namjoon looks up at you questioningly. “Really?” he says like he doesn’t quite believe you. “It was stressful for someone like you?”

Your heart flutters at his words. You try to keep your voice calm when you say, “Yeah, even for someone like me.”

You squeeze his firm shoulder one time for reassurance and then you let go. Even though you want to touch him in many other places, you don’t want to overwhelm him or scare him away.

You reach toward the table to pick up the next card when you remember something.

“Oh!” you exclaim. “Didn’t you have a follow-up question for me?”

Namjoon, still red in the face but less so than before, looks up toward the ceiling in thought. After a beat, he snaps his fingers and says, “You’re right, I definitely did.”

“Shoot,” you say behind your fork.

“Okay,” Namjoon starts. “You really don’t seem like the type to yell at an authority figure. What made you yell at that director person?”

“Oh,” you say with a quiet chuckle. “You know that MLK quote, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere?”

Namjoon nods.

“Okay,” you continue. “So basically that’s one of the codes I live by. I don’t get angry very easily, but when it comes to injustice, especially against people who can’t advocate for themselves, I get extremely heated and sometimes I end up lashing out at the people who I believe are letting the injustice occur.”

Namjoon continues to nod throughout your explanation, as if he’s completely fascinated by what you have to say. It honestly feels amazing to have someone just listen to you after the events of this evening.

“That’s really awesome of you to do, even if you did get fired for it. It’s brave,” he says with a look of sincerity on his face.

Now it’s your turn to blush. “Thank you,” you reply simply. “I guess it’s my turn now?”

“Oh yeah. I almost forgot we were doing this,” Namjoon shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts away. “Go ahead.”

You pick up the next card. “Ooh,” you say with a lilt to your voice as you read it. You then glance up to see a curious-looking Namjoon. “I get to fill in my own question.”

“Oh boy,” Namjoon groans as he situates himself next to you on the couch and replaces his food with his wine. “Do your worst.”

The question that has been on your mind since you were at the event earlier overtakes your thoughts once again, leaving little room in your brain for you to come up with any other queries for Namjoon to respond to. You don’t want to waste your question on something so simple, though, so you try to come up with something different but still related.

“I can think of a question, but you don’t have to answer it if it makes you uncomfortable,” you say reassuringly. Namjoon motions his glass toward you in a signal to continue.

“Okay,” you brighten. “What’s it really like being a hybrid?”

“Oh, wow,” Namjoon says right away. “You know, usually people don’t ask me that. They just assume they know the answer already. They think it’s the easiest thing in the world to be a hybrid and that nothing ever goes wrong in my life. I have no idea where they got that from though. Maybe from all the sitcoms about human/hybrid roommates.”

You snort at the thought of people getting their information about hybrids from fictional television shows. You can attest, though, that those same shows do portray hybrid life as somewhat idyllic. You aren’t sure why that’s the case, though, considering the fact that most of your hybrid relatives and friends have shared with you stories about their own personal experiences with discrimination or mistreatment from humans.

“The truth is, though,” Namjoon continues, “that it’s really fucking hard sometimes. And I’m not just talking about dating, although that in itself is a struggle too. It’s just hard trying to live life and never being sure if the people around you think you’re worthy of having, you know, basic human rights. Like for god’s sake, my great-grandparents are old enough that they were kept as pets when they were kids, before the emancipation. That’s only three generations before mine! And there are still humans out there who don’t respect us, who don’t care about us, who use us. It can make a person really bitter after a while.”

Throughout his answer, Namjoon remained completely composed. It was only as he finished his story that his eyes appeared to water slightly. You can only imagine how tired he must be from having to defend his right to exist in the world.

“I’m so sorry that there are humans out there who have treated you and your family so poorly,” you say, your voice empathetic. “I hope that never has to happen to you again.”

Namjoon’s eyes continue to water, but no tears fall. His voice does sound slightly hoarse when he thanks you, though.

“Is it okay if I ask you a follow-up question?” you say cautiously. You still don’t want to make Namjoon uncomfortable.

Namjoon takes a large sip of his wine. “Yeah, it’s okay,” he says after swallowing.

“Okay,” you say, then you take a deep breath and continue. “You said dating was a struggle too. I know we talked about how humans have only wanted to get to know you because you’re a hybrid, but is that the only reason that dating is hard for you?”

Namjoon’s blush returns and intensifies, but he still looks you straight in the eye as he answers your new question.

“Dating is hard because the animal side of me mates for life. So I’ve basically been spending my life looking for one person. I can’t date around like most people can. I choose not to have sex with anyone because I’m afraid I’ll become attached to the wrong person and then I’ll end up alone. It’s really hard trying to be a normal person when the animal side of me has such strong needs.”

You sit next to Namjoon, astounded by what he has just told you. Does this mean that he’ll choose to not become attached to you? Or does everything that has happened tonight mean that he’s serious about you already? And why do you think you’d prefer the second option to be the correct one?

Additionally, does this mean what you think it means for him sexually?

“Have you ever had sex?” you ask before you can stop yourself. You then slap your free hand to your mouth as Namjoon chuckles at you.

“Honestly? I haven’t,” he says somewhat confidently. “Is that going to be a problem?” he continues, now sounding almost like he’s ready to be disappointed.

“What?” No, of course not,” you express earnestly. “That’s, like, the opposite of a problem. There’s nothing wrong with that at all.”

Namjoon looks a little skeptical - which, in this sex-obsessed world, you can understand - but he apparently decides to let it go because he doesn’t say anything else about it. He just picks up the next card from the table and reads it aloud for you.

“What’s a dream from your childhood that you never forgot? Huh, this is a cool one,” he muses after reading the question.

“Ooh, this is a fun one,” you say excitedly. “Let me think… Oh, okay, I got it! I had this recurring dream as a kid that was very odd. So my siblings and I had this little pool with a slide attached to it and we would play in the pool all the time during the summer. In the dream the three of us were sitting at the top of the slide and the slide was trying to fling us over a chain-link fence to where hundreds of dinosaurs were running from a desert scene into a jungle scene.”

By the time you finish your answer, Namjoon is smiling so wide that it looks like he might hurt himself. You start to laugh and you say, “What?! It couldn’t have been that good of a story.”

“It’s not that,” Namjoon says with a laugh. “I think we interpreted this question differently, that’s all.”

“Oh… how so?” you ask, curious and only slightly embarrassed.

“You thought it was talking about a literal dream you had when you were sleeping, and I thought it was talking about a dream you had for the future. I didn’t expect you to tell a story about dinosaurs and an anthropomorphic kiddie pool slide.”

You let out a small snort and begin laughing right alongside Namjoon at your two interpretations of the card.

To cover up your lingering embarrassment, you say, “Well, do you want to hear about a future-related dream I had as a kid?”

Namjoon swirls his wine in his glass and takes another sip. “Yeah, of course,” he says, sounding genuinely interested.

“I wanted to be a hairdresser,” you say with nostalgia in your voice. “I had this big doll head that I would practice on all the time. I thought that knowing how to braid meant that I could do pretty much anything.”

Namjoon laughs along with you.

“But,” you continue, “I think I also wanted to do it because I just really liked the lady who cut my hair when I was little. She was nice, and she always asked how I was doing in school. My mom took us to a barber shop, and I remember they always charged more for girls’ hair than for boys’.

By the time you finish your story, you realize that your eyes had become unfocused and that you were staring off into space. You blink a few times to refocus your gaze, only to find that Namjoon is looking at you almost adoringly. It makes you a little nervous, but you like it all the same.

You drink some more wine. “What is it?” you question when Namjoon doesn’t say anything.

“Oh,” he says, seeming to come out of his own daze in that moment. “It was just a nice story. I like that you told me. I don’t know… I guess it made me feel close to you.”

You look away from Namjoon with a small smile on your face. “Thank you,” you say softly.

Before you give Namjoon a chance to keep talking and possibly make your heart explode in your chest, you quickly pick up the next question card and read it to him.

“What do you think people remember about me?”

Namjoon’s eyebrows raise almost imperceptibly at the question, but just as quickly they return to their normal spots. He appears to think for a moment behind his wine, and then he gives you his answer.

“I think they remember how understanding and thoughtful you are. And your passion. Like how you advocated for your campers. I think they also remember how confident you are. You were so well-spoken back at the bar, like you just didn’t give a shit about what anyone thought. I, uh… I might have watched you a little bit while you were talking to the bartender.”

Your surprise must show on your face, because Namjoon follows up by asking, “What? Did I say the wrong thing?”

“No! No, not at all,” you immediately counter. “I just… didn’t expect you to say that, I guess. Like, I don’t really understand my appeal, so to hear that someone was watching me and then still wanted to get to know me is kind of a lot to take in, that’s all.”

Your confession makes Namjoon’s eyebrows raise again, but this time it’s definitely noticeable.

“Really?” he asks you, disbelief apparent in his tone. “How could someone not want to get to know you after seeing you?”

You feel like you’re shrinking into yourself at all of Namjoon’s compliments. “I have no idea,” is all you can think to say.

Namjoon must notice your sagging shoulders, because he says, “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Especially if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You can feel yourself physically relax at Namjoon’s comforting words. “Okay,” you say into your wine. “Thank you.”

Namjoon gives your knee a quick pat before he reaches toward the table to pick up the next card.

“What’s your favorite thing about me?” he reads the question, then places the card gently back on the table and looks at you with that same gentleness. It makes you feel safe. You already know your answer, so you’re able to respond quickly.

“The fact that you were so nervous about letting me know you were a hybrid, but that you chose to be honest with me about it anyway,” you say with certainty in your voice. You’re not sure you’ve ever been so certain about anything before now.

“The fact that you respected me enough to tell me the truth about it before you knew anything about me,” you continue. “I mean, for all you knew, I could have been one of those horrible people you talk about that use hybrids and throw them away. You still chose to trust me. It really speaks to your character, I think. I still don’t know why you made that choice, and I’m not going to ask. Just know that I really appreciate it and you.”

Namjoon’s expression is unreadable for a moment, as if he was focusing very much on your answer just now and he didn’t have the capacity to change the way his face looked as you gave your response. Then he smiles at you.

“I know you said you weren’t going to ask, but I can tell you if you want,” he says with a slight sigh. “After the last question, I mean. I don’t want to get sidetracked.”

“Okay,” you say back to him with your own smile. You pick up the next card, eager to get the game done now so you can have your curiosities satisfied. There are no cards underneath the one you pick up.

“Oh, this is the last question,” you announce to the room as Namjoon begins to resituate himself on the couch. You then read the card aloud.

“Look me in the eye and tell me something in silence.”

Namjoon pauses his movements, then he puts his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands as he begins to ponder. His eyebrows are knit together and the corners of his mouth are slightly downturned. He closes his eyes and you take the opportunity to look him up and down. His look of contemplation is a sexy one, and you can’t get over how much you want to run your hands through his inky black hair (and maybe give it a tug).

His shoulders are broad, but not intimidatingly so. Through his fitted button-up shirt, you can tell that he works out. What are intimidating, however, are his thighs. They’re thick and they look like they could rip Namjoon’s pants at any moment. (Not that you would complain.)

Just as you are about to let your fantasies run wild and give in to your urge to touch some part of Namjoon, his eyes open and he announces that he is ready to answer your question. He turns to face you directly, blinks a few times, and then he stares intently into your eyes, as if what he has to tell you is the most important thing he’s said all evening.

Damn, why can’t his answer to this question be a vocal one? You want to know what he has to say so badly. You don’t think you’ve ever had a better conversation with a stranger than you have had with Namjoon. It doesn’t feel like you two are strangers anymore. You find yourself wishing for so much more with him.

Just as you find yourself beginning to lean into Namjoon’s space, hopeful and daring in your movement, Namjoon blinks again and turns his head away from you so that he is facing forward on the couch once more. You can’t say you’re not disappointed as you back up to where you had been.

“Was what you had to say to me important? It felt important,” you say without thinking.

Namjoon’s ears redden immediately. “Um… yeah, it was,” he practically mumbles.

“Was it what you wanted to tell me after the game ended?” you probe further.

“... Yes,” the man beside you says in almost a whisper.

“Do you want to tell me what it was?” you ask, trying and failing to keep the anticipation from your voice. You weakly follow up by saying, “You don’t have to.”

“I want to, but I don’t want to ruin things between us,” Namjoon says, a little louder this time.

“Go ahead,” you urge. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears.

“Okay, um…” Namjoon starts, then looks toward the ceiling. He closes his eyes again before continuing.

“I think you’re supposed to be my mate.”

Now you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. You’re squealing internally because it all makes sense now. You’ve never felt this kind of instant connection with anyone in your life. Sure, you’ve dated people, but only to fulfill some sort of societal expectation that you thought you had to satisfy. Sex and relationships just never appealed to you the way they seemed to appeal to literally everyone else. But now you know why. You’re meant to be this man’s mate. For life. While that fact should probably make you dissolve into a panic right now, all you can feel is peace.

“What does that mean exactly?” you breathe out, not wanting to let your thoughts run any wilder.

Namjoon reaches for your hand. You take it. “It’s the equivalent of two humans deciding to marry, I suppose. It means that we both feel something almost indescribable for each other, even though we just met tonight. We have no desire to part from one another, and we want to spend our lives together. Does that sound right on your end?”

“Yes, that’s right,” you say immediately, not wanting to leave any room for Namjoon to doubt you. “I’ve spent my whole life searching for the feeling I feel with you. It’s amazing and scary and wonderful. I never want to live without this feeling again.”

“Really?” Namjoon says, sounding so hopeful you might cry.

“Really,” you repeat, squeezing Namjoon’s hand as you speak.

“Okay, so… what now?” Namjoon still looks and sounds hopeful, but nervous as well. It’s adorable but you don’t want him to be nervous about what happens next.

“I’m not sure, exactly,” you say slowly. “If it were up to me, we’d probably be in bed already but I don’t really know how you want - or need - to go about doing this.”

It’s only after the words leave your mouth that your brain processes them. You just admitted that you want to sleep with Namjoon. Before you have the chance to take your statement back or even make your face look slightly ashamed, Namjoon is already speaking.

“It can be up to you,” he says, quietly but confidently.

“I didn’t - wait, really?” you respond, admittedly a little surprised by the apparent ease with which Namjoon made such a decision. “What makes you say that?” you probe further, wanting to make sure you’re both making the right choice.

Namjoon looks bashful once more, but he holds his head high and looks at you straight on. “I’ve wanted this since before I even spoke to you for the first time,” he says earnestly. “This has never happened to me before now, and I’m not going to second-guess myself or my feelings for you and potentially let you slip away.”

You smile and turn away from Namjoon’s gentle gaze, and you give his hand another squeeze.

“If you didn’t want to, that wouldn’t make me ‘slip away,’” you say as you turn back to face Namjoon, putting your free hand under his chin. “Remember, I’m not like those other humans who only wanted you for one reason. I’m here to stay, no matter what you choose right now.”

The wetness in Namjoon’s eyes from before returns again, but this time a single tear tracks down his cheek. You wipe it away with your thumb.

“You’re seriously everything I’ve ever wanted, you know that?” he says with a disbelieving laugh. Then he leans in and kisses you.

It starts out slow, and you can tell Namjoon is trying to make it purposeful by the way he cradles your head delicately in his hands and gently slots your lips together without even a hint of tongue. He really cares about you, you think to yourself as your lips move against his. The thought makes you sigh out against his mouth and move your hands to tangle in his hair.

Namjoon appears to take your cue, moving his hands from your head to wrap them tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. The positioning is slightly awkward, what with you both still sitting next to each other on the couch, but you’ve never felt more comfortable kissing someone. It’s sweet and passionate all at once, and it makes you hungry for more.

“So,” you start as you separate to take a breath. You’re both flushed red and Namjoon’s hair is standing up at odd angles from you running your hands through it. You would laugh if you weren’t so turned on. “Where did we land on this being up to me?” you finish, biting your lip to try to hold back your beaming smile.

Namjoon’s eyes zone in on you biting your lip and he licks his own. “Um… yeah, it can be up to you,” he says distractedly, never taking his gaze off your mouth.

You giggle and stand from the sofa, still holding onto Namjoon’s hand as you lead him to your bedroom. Once you step inside the small room together, Namjoon pulls your hand toward himself to turn you around and catches you in another firm kiss. This time, however, he opens his mouth against yours and gently swipes his tongue along your bottom lip.

Your response is immediate, mouth opening against his and eager tongue meeting his own in the middle. You begin exploring each other with lips and tongues and hands as you gradually make your way to the bed in the center of the room.

Just as the backs of your legs hit your plush comforter, you aim to put your hands inside Namjoon’s jacket to push it off his shoulders. He lets you, briefly taking his arms off your waist to let the clothing slide down his arms and hit the floor with a dull thud. Just as you move to pull Namjoon onto the bed with you, though, you remember what he had hidden beneath that jacket.

You quickly pull away from Namjoon’s kiss, opening your eyes and breathily saying, “Would now be a bad time to ask you what kind of hybrid you are?”

Namjoon chuckles, lets go of your waist once again, and turns around so his back faces you directly.

There are two masses of feathers on Namjoon’s back, right where his shoulder blades reside. They rise from there to the tops of his shoulders and then dip down to his waist. You’re already shocked by the fact that he managed to keep them hidden from you the entire time you’ve been together, when something amazing occurs.

The masses of black feathers begin to shuffle in front of your eyes, and suddenly Namjoon’s wings are stretching out to their full size, taking up so much space that you’re sure their tops will hit your low ceiling. It’s nothing short of majestic.

The wings, the hair, the lips, the fact that Namjoon said he mates for life...

“You’re a swan,” you say with complete awe in your voice. Namjoon’s feathers ruffle cutely.

Swan hybrids are incredibly rare. So rare, in fact, that many people say they no longer exist. This reveal was truly the last thing you had expected to happen tonight, but you welcome it all the same. You want Namjoon for Namjoon, not for what kind of hybrid he is.

When Namjoon doesn’t say anything else, you continue. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” you say as sincerely as you can. It’s true, after all. Namjoon is beautiful.

“Thank you,” he replies to the wall in front of you, as he has yet to turn around and face you again. You giggle and put a hand on his shoulder, urging him to turn back around. As he does, he retracts his wings back toward his body, but one of them still brushes against you. It’s possibly the softest thing you’ve ever felt and it makes you shiver with desire for the man in front of you. You want the feathers to touch you again and again, but you don’t want it to be accidental. You want Namjoon to do it purposely.

“Wow,” is all you can say before Namjoon crowds into your space once more to get back to kissing you, his hands once again gripping your waist like it’s his favorite part of you. You’re thankful that you don’t have to think of anything else to say to him because it probably wouldn’t make sense anyway. All you can really think about is his feathers on your skin as he begins kissing down your neck with more intensity than he displayed before.

You let out a small moan when Namjoon laves his tongue over the spot right above your collarbone, and in response Namjoon pushes you against the bed, making you fall onto the covers with him following closely behind.

Namjoon immediately settles a knee between your thighs, close enough that you can sense his presence but far enough away that you can’t get any kind of friction or relief. You wonder if he meant to do that. He continues to kiss you fervently, licking and sucking at your neck as he begins to move a hand underneath your shirt and up your stomach. You arch your back slightly into his touch and let out another soft moan to tell him that he can continue his movements.

Namjoon slowly inches his way up your stomach to cup your breast, still hidden within the confines of your bra. He massages your nipple through the material, which both excites and frustrates you simultaneously. He’s so close to you in so many ways, but so far away all the same. You want nothing more than to be naked under Namjoon in this moment, to be as close to him as you can be.

You tug slightly on Namjoon’s hair to get him to pause his ministrations and look up at you. When he does, you notice his already-cherry lips are even redder now from kissing you. You completely forget what you were going to say to him, and instead you simply grab his head with both hands and bring him back up to your level so you can kiss him some more.

As you continue to kiss and Namjoon continues to massage one of your nipples, you move your hands down his body and to his belt loops. He gasps slightly into your mouth but doesn’t stop you, and you continue toward his belt, undoing it with ease and slipping it off his body. It joins his jacket on the floor, and the thought of having the rest of Namjoon’s clothes end up there as well only serves to make you wetter than all this kissing has already made you.

The man above you appears to take your cue again, this time moving his hand to the top of your bra, where he pulls it down just enough to expose your breast to his hand. He goes back to massaging your now-free nipple, and the difference in feeling has you arching into his touch once more.

As you move your hands toward Namjoon’s zipper, you stop kissing him just long enough to say, “Take my shirt off.”

He squeezes your breast in his hand before leaning up slightly to grab the hem of your shirt with his other hand and bring it up over your head. He then comes back down to kiss at your newly exposed skin, but not before he gets a good look at your erect nipple that he’s been teasing for what feels like years.

Now that he’s occupied by your chest, you take the opportunity to undo Namjoon’s zipper and slip your hand inside his pants. He seems to be very affected by your movements, as he pauses his and leans up again to focus on what you’re doing to him.

“Is this okay?” you check in with Namjoon, wanting him to be comfortable with what is likely his first sexual experience with another person.

“Yes,” Namjoon breathes out into your chest, making you shiver as goosebumps rise on your skin. “Please keep going.”

You give a small peck to Namjoon’s neck before you continue moving your hand into his pants, grabbing onto his hard cock that’s still within the confines of his underwear. Now it’s your turn to tease him over his clothes.

You rub the length of Namjoon’s cock back and forth, purposely avoiding the head, where you know he needs your touch the most. He moans and drops his head to your chest, beginning to thrust slightly into your palm.

“Fuck,” he whines, clearly frustrated with your decision not to satisfy him completely.

“Yes, lovebird?” you say softly as you continue to rub and squeeze at his shaft.

“Not… enough,” Namjoon pants. His feathers ruffle again above you, and you wonder if it was due to your use of the pet name. You decide to keep that in mind and ask him about it later.

“Okay,” you give in easily, and move to rub your thumb in circles around Namjoon’s cockhead. It’s wet there, even over his underwear, just as you hoped it would be. Namjoon cries out softly and grabs onto your shoulders with both hands, which only turns you on even more and makes you moan wantonly.

Namjoon must notice that he has stopped teasing you (or touching you sexually in any way, really), because he soon goes back to grabbing at your exposed breast and kissing down your chest. He eventually brings his mouth down to your nipple and wraps his plush lips around the sensitive bud, making you sigh out and push your free hand back into his hair like you did earlier.

Namjoon sucks on your nipple with just enough force that you can feel your neglected clit practically vibrate with need. You continue to rub your thumb on Namjoon’s still-weeping head, and it must be enough to make him want things to move along, because he starts moving his hands from your shoulders down your arms, back toward your waist, and to the hem of your own pants. This is where he hesitates slightly.

He begins moving his fingers gently back and forth along the soft material of your pant hem, then stops just as soon as he started. His mouth leaves your breast with a soft kiss as he lifts his head from your chest to look at you. You’re already watching him, having paused your movements in his slacks as well. You want to ask if everything is alright, but he beats you to it, and calms you down immediately.

“Is this okay with you?” he asks innocently, gently dipping two fingers inside the hem of your pants, not even touching you where you need it most yet. Your response is involuntary anyway. You moan slightly, buck your hips upward toward Namjoon’s own pelvis and lean your head back into your plush comforter. Namjoon turns bright red.

Noticing Namjoon’s expression of shock, you put a hand to his warm cheek and say, “It’s okay, lovebird.” (There go those feathers again.) “I’m just really sensitive. And really wet.”

“Oh,” is all Namjoon can manage to get out at that information, and you giggle. “Is, uh… is that a good thing?” he says without looking at you. He’s still focused on playing with the hem of your pants.

You scoot over slightly on the bed so Namjoon can lay down next to you. Then you take the hand toying with your pant hem and slowly push it down inside your clothes, all the way to where you’re soaked for him.

You watch as his expression morphs from one of trepidation to one of pure elation and lust and love. He begins moving his fingers around in your ocean, eventually finding your swollen bud and staying there when you cry out softly at his touch and grip his arm tightly.

You’re whimpering at Namjoon’s gentle movements, but you’re still able to get back to touching him, this time without his own underwear as a barrier. You can feel a vein in his cock practically throbbing with need for you, and his head is still wet with precum when you graze it with your thumb.

His response to you touching him now is to buck into your hand slightly while he simultaneously applies more pressure to your clit than before. The fact that you’re pleasuring each other so effortlessly after just having met a few hours before should be scandalizing to you, but it feels so right. It feels meant to be.

You’re lost in your bliss, thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Namjoon is touching you so purposefully, but not aggressively, and you look up at him briefly to see his eyes closed and his plush lips red as cherries from all your kisses. He’s concentrating on your pleasure just as much as his own and it makes you practically gush for him.

Namjoon suddenly moans out an “oh, fuck,” and opens his eyes questioningly at you without ever stopping his movements around your pussy.

“Did you just get even wetter?” he asks with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Mhm,” you respond in a moan, head thrown back onto your pillow and hand gripping Namjoon’s arm so tightly that it’s going a bit numb.

Namjoon briefly takes his hand out of your pants to taste you on his fingers, and he shudders when he licks you off of him.

“Damn,” he mutters, getting your attention. “You taste amazing.”

Without missing a beat, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, inviting Namjoon to put one of his fingers into your own mouth so you can taste yourself. You lick your juices from his finger but keep going, almost deep-throating it, which makes him hiss and remove it just to give you the most intense kiss he has so far this evening.

Namjoon then proceeds to move down the bed again, taking your pants and your underwear with him and dropping them to the floor with his clothes. You’re laid bare in front of him, save for your bra that is half-removed from your chest anyway. As Namjoon looks you up and down, you begin playing with yourself so he can watch you, which you can immediately tell he is enjoying. His cock is still straining against his slacks and you want to see it for yourself.

“You want more?” you say sultrily up at him. He nods as he rubs himself over his clothes, seemingly unable to help himself as he drinks you in. You move a finger on your free hand in a “come hither” motion and he obeys, crawling up in between your legs again so he’s just over you.

Without saying anything else, you make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, letting him take over and bring it off of his broad shoulders and down his back so you don’t harm his wings in the process of getting him naked.

You expected the shirt removal process to be a bit of a struggle for him, what with how large his wings are. However, he makes it look easy by shimmying his wings through the shirt’s designated slits and letting it fall to the floor behind him. He only loses one feather.

You immediately get to work on his pants, pulling them down over his hips and down to his knees. You do the same with his boxers, putting your hands inside over his ass to push them down. He manages to kick them both off of his legs rather gracefully, and he’s suddenly as naked as you are. He’s still drinking you in, so he doesn’t really notice when you move to grab his lost feather from the edge of your bed.

You toy with the feather in your hands for a brief moment before voicing your thought from earlier. Your voice seems to ground Namjoon back into the present moment, because he refocuses and his eyes lose the slight glaze they had taken on a moment ago.

“Will you use this on me?” you ask outright, without any attempt to be coy.

“Of course,” Namjoon immediately replies. Then he follows up with, “Use it how?”

You giggle slightly at his willingness to please you then say, “Like how people do feather play. You know what that is?”

“I’m sure I can figure it out,” Namjoon says with a soft smile. “Close your eyes.”

You do as you’re told and you feel Namjoon take the feather from your hand. Your heart rate speeds up in anticipation for what’s to come and you’re so tempted to open your eyes that you wish you had a blindfold on.

The feeling of the feather touching your ankle makes you gasp, and the feeling of it traveling up your leg makes you squirm. You hear a soft chuckle followed by the words, “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” you breathe out as the feather continues to move up your body, now caressing your hip, then your waist, then your chest, then your neck. You shiver as it makes contact with each new body part.

You can hardly contain your arousal when Namjoon suddenly moves the feather off of your neck completely. You’re about to open your eyes because you think he is finished teasing you, when you feel something tickle your mound. It’s the softest of touches, and you realize he’s going to tease your pussy with this feather. He really knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself as you continue to squirm at the light touches. The feather makes its way over your mound and down past your clit and then it’s on one thigh, then the other, and just as you think that you might come completely untouched, the feather is replaced by a mouth.

Namjoon is devouring your thighs one at a time, and then without warning he grabs hold of your clit with his lips and starts to suck. You cry out and tangle your hands back in his hair, pushing him closer to you and urging him to lick and suck you harder.

Namjoon seems to understand that you need more, because he quickly brings two fingers up to your pussy and swirls them around in your wetness before easily slipping them inside you. He continues to suck your clit as he pushes those two fingers into you as deep as they can go, then he pushes upwards.

Your scream of elation is enough to let Namjoon know you’ve just orgasmed, but he doesn’t seem to want to stop there. He continues pushing his fingers up against your wet walls until you’re coming a second time, shaking so violently that Namjoon has to stop what he’s been doing and come up to hold you for a brief moment.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he notices your breathing start to even out. You nod, not sure if you’re currently capable of speech.

“Are you done?” he asks his second question with what sounds like a hint of disappointment already in his voice. You shake your head.

“No,” you manage to get out. “No, I’m not done. I can come multiple times and keep going, I promise.”

Namjoon looks at you like you just told him Christmas was coming early this year. He kisses your forehead as you giggle.

You clear your throat and ask huskily, “You ready for more?”

Namjoon nods again and you bring him on top of you, and without any further hesitation you grab his cock back into your hand and begin stroking it again. After a few strokes, you lean up and whisper into Namjoon’s ear.

“Lovebird, I want you.”

You hear the rustle of feathers and all of a sudden Namjoon’s cock is stretching your walls wide and you’re crying out again and Namjoon is grunting and you’re looking at each other while he fucks you. You’ve never felt so close to another person in your entire life. The feeling of Namjoon inside you is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. The thought makes you clench, already on the verge of another orgasm.

Namjoon fucks into you rhythmically, his pace steady but quick and his eyes full of love for you. He finds your hands and holds them tightly above your head, and he brings his lips down to meet yours in a gentle kiss.

You feel yourself reaching the peak once more and you warn Namjoon of your imminent orgasm. He thrusts even more intensely into you and you come undone around him, clenching his cock so forcefully that he comes involuntarily with a gasp. As he fills you up, you hear him mumble something you can’t quite make out.

“What did you say, Lovebird?” you ask sweetly.

“I said, ‘I love you,’” he repeats, this time more firmly and with more conviction. You don’t miss the ruffle of his feathers above you.

You smile. “For life, right?”

He smiles back. “Yeah. For life.”

#the hybrid collab #Namjoon x reader #Namjoon smut #Namjoon fanfiction

120 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 2 years

Text

Perennial Pt.21

Faith

10/06/2022

Pairing: Bucky x Florist!Reader Word Count: 2,420

Warnings: blood, violence, angst, pining, cuteness, language

Featured Flower: None

A/N: I can’t believe I was able to get this one out tonight. It’s highly unedited. Sorry. I’m still in a lot of pain. Lots going on in my life right now but I want to focus on this chapter. If you read it, let me know what you think and if you enjoyed it! What did you like about it? Distract me, y’all. xoxo

After a few days of Bucky’s absence, you’re worried.

Finally, at the end of the week, he sends you a text.

Bucky: Miss me?

You: Duh! Where are you?

Bucky: Sorry, kid. Better to keep that under wraps until things are done.

You: Which will be when?

Bucky: I don’t know.

You: Bucky…

Bucky: I know, sugar. Trust me.

You: Why did Steve ask me for my keys?

Bucky: He and Tony are checking out the apartment to make sure it’s safe. They’re gonna install a security system. Top of the line. No one is getting anywhere near you again without me and the entire Avengers team knowing.

You: Wouldn’t it be easier to just have you with me all the time?

Bucky: I wanna come home, kid. I’m sorry I didn’t text sooner. And I probably won’t be texting with any more frequency. If anything, you might hear from me less.

You: I know. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed. You just got back and now you’re gone again.

You: Kinda feels like I saw you more before we started dating. Maybe we should break up and then I can see you more?

Bucky: …

You: A joke, you grump.

Bucky: Jokes are supposed to be funny.

You: And a new couple is supposed to be happy. I’m just trying to bring some levity to an inescapable situation, okay? You know damn well that now that I have you there’s no way I’m letting you go. Do you know how long I watched you from afar? Wishing?

There’s a pause and you think he might be done texting but then your phone dings again.

Bucky: When I get home, I’m gonna make sure you know how much I miss you.

You: Sap. You threatening to dick me down?

Bucky: Pfft, do you have to say it like that?!

You: lol How else should I say it? I want you all the time.

Bucky: Nowhere near as much as I want you.

You: Wanna bet?

Bucky: Once your place is done, you need to make sure you stay there from now on. It’ll be safer than mine.

You: Fine. But I’m taking your pillow. And some shirts.

Bucky: Take them. Whatever you need.

Bucky: Shit, I gotta go.

You: Okay. Bye.

Bucky: Love you, kid.

You: I love you. Be safe.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two Months Later

“Wow, apparently the corruption went all the way into the royal family,” Kamala exclaims in quiet awe as she watches the TV you’d installed in the corner of the coffee shop.

Normally you have it set to some relaxing music that you know your flowers enjoy just as much as your coffee patrons, but as you’re closing, you give Kamala reign over the remote.

“Is this what Bucky has been doing?” She wonders, turning to look over at you as you finish counting the money in the till.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I haven’t heard from him in three weeks. And honestly, he can’t really tell me anything about what he’s doing. Safety and all that shit.”

Kamala shuts the TV off and moves to put the remote in its spot by the register. She’s smirking, her young face full of amusement as she leans against the counter.

“You miss him lots, huh?” She guesses.

You sigh, realizing that the bitterness you’re feeling at his lack of contact is because you truly do miss him more than you ever thought you could. Even when he’d disappeared you hadn’t missed him like this.

Dating him is making things harder.

“So, I guess that means you have no idea when he’ll be home, huh?” She asks, seemingly already knowing the answer from the tone of her voice.

“Nope. Just gotta wait.” It’s the waiting that’s killing you.

Knowing he’s out there somewhere. Knowing that he’s alive and not calling. Not texting.

And he is alive because you won’t let yourself think anything else.

You can hear Kamala talking as you wrap up the profits for the day and slip it into a deposit bag. She follows you as you place it in the safe in your office and make sure it’s locked securely before shutting off the light and getting your bag.

She’s still chirping away about Steve and her trip to the tower as you’re pulling down the metal shutters of your shop. With a sigh, she takes the keys from you and bends down to lock it for you before placing the keys back in your hand.

“You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?” She asks, not really waiting for an answer because she already knows you weren’t focused.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, remorse and worry lacing your slight bitterness from before. “I’m just…I want him home.”

Kamala nods, adjusts her bag, and then reaches out to pat your shoulder.

“I have math homework. Bye, boss.”

You watch her turn on her heel and march–well, almost skip–off into the city. “See ya.”

You stare until she’s a small figure in the distance and just as expected, just as Steve said, you see the glimmer of her power shine for a split second before it zips up into the sky above the tall buildings.

She’s still so young and yet she has that much power. Such a heavy burden for such a young girl. Worse that she doesn’t exactly see her gift like the heavy responsibility that it really is.

You can’t blame her. At her age, you’d have probably been just as excited to stretch your muscles and see what you could do had you been gifted with some type of power.

A strange yearning takes hold in your chest as you turn to head up into your building, wishing that you really had been given powers of some kind. At least then you could be with Bucky when he leaves for this long.

You’re so wrapped up in your missing Bucky that you don’t notice the looming figure resting against the wall beside the elevator doors as you exit on the top floor. Your brain, on some level, notices the shape in your periphery, but you don’t turn until the accented voice calls your name.

You freeze, keys clutched more tightly in your fist and turn to look at the familiar Sokovian.

He looks like shit. His hair is a mess sticking up in several directions and laced with grime and some type of sticky clear substance. His long fur lined coat is frayed and torn, smeared with dirt. His pants are no better. The purple mask clutched in his hand is ripped in several places so that if he were to put it one of his eyes would peek out unobstructed, cheekbone and temple too.

“Where is he?” you gasp, unable to catch your breath as your stomach drops and your chest goes cold.

Zemo swallows, pushes off of the wall and approaches you with surprising calm.

“Come,” he urges you and reaches to take hold of your forearm.

You don’t resist as he pulls you back into the elevator and ride it all the way down to the first floor. He steers you towards the back alley exit, releasing your arm when he’s sure you’ll continue to follow him.

Neither of you speak as your hands grow cold and sweaty. Your neck prickles as dread fills your belly and Zemo continues to stalk through the dark city streets.

It’s probably minutes–though it feels like hours–of walking later when Zemo finally stops in front of a rusted warehouse door, his eyes scanning the area quickly before he ducks inside and you match his urgency and shove into the darkness behind him then round him as he shuts out the dim city lights.

You can hear the dust of the abandoned space shift beneath his heavy boots as he walks around you again and when his hand closes around your forearm again you let him pull you along through the darkness.

Silhouettes of broken crates, old metal lockers, warped metal stairs, and the smell of rust surrounds you. There’s a faint dripping somewhere to your left as you pass an open doorway but inside is more darkness that you only glance at as Zemo leads the way.

The heaviness in the air fills your nostrils, the dustmotes kicked up by your feet tickle your nose and you somehow manage to resist sneezing as Zemo stops again, this time a long vertical silver line shines ahead.

He hesitates then after a moment drags you the rest of the way to the silver line which you realize is light seeping through the crack between two large wooden doors.

He knocks and a shift on the other side blocks out the shine for a second, the outline of a masked figure darkens the space before the doors are pulled open.

“What the hell are you doing?” The aggression in the masked man’s voice makes you bristle but you have no time to be offended by the curl of his lip as he watches Zemo and waits for an explanation.

You’re busy devouring the space behind him, the large expanse and the single metal gurney at the center of the empty warehouse where a dark figure lays too still.

“What I promised,” Zemo says.

You see a shine of dark metal on the gurney and your gasp catches in your throat as your eyes sting painfully. Your feet move on their own, dragging you forward into a run towards the figure but before you can even make it three steps a tight grip takes hold on your upper arm and yanks you back roughly.

“Stop,” the helmeted man growls. “What is this?”

“Let me go,” you demand, no fear in your voice. Only anger at being stopped.

“I haven’t put a bullet between your eyes out of respect for the acquaintance we share. If you do not wish to end up on a missing person’s report, I suggest you release the woman.”

Zemo’s threat is real but still the masked man doesn’t let go.

“Walker…” Zemo warns.

Another two seconds pass and you can feel John Walker’s hand slowly loosen. You pull out of his grip and race to the gurney with watering eyes.

“This is an unnecessary risk,” the U.S. Agent says.

“If that were you laying there, he would not have hesitated to bring your wife.”

John makes some type of noise in the back of his throat but doesn’t say anything again.

Bucky looks like shit too. Just like Zemo, only worse. He’s so pale, his lips almost blue in the dim light that filters in from the long line of horizontal windows along the top of the warehouse walls. As coated in dust as they are, it isn’t much.

“Oh my god, Bucky…” you sob quietly, your heart breaking at the cuts to his beautiful face. His right arm is broken and crudely slung across his chest in what looks like torn up old shirts or sheets.

As you explore his body you notice a long gash along his right thigh, a stab wound just underneath his ribs on the right, and his face is black and blue in the spots that are not pale as a ghost.

You sweep his greasy black locks out of his sweaty, dirty face and bite down hard on your lip to keep from crying out.

“What happened?” You ask the two men behind you.

“We were moments from victory,” Zemo begins. “The last of the threat was nearly contained when Barnes noticed the trap set for us. He saved us both with the last moments he had before the bomb went off.”

You sob as your hands flutter pointlessly around his handsome, grimy face.

“When the dust settled,” Walker says, sounding bored by his words as he speaks them. “He was just laying there. Didn’t move. Wouldn’t move. We were able to finish the job but Bucky didn’t and hasn’t woken up in a week. It took us forever to get him back here unconscious and under the radar.”

The way Walker talks about the ordeal of getting Bucky home it sounds as if he’s annoyed by the inconvenience. You almost reach for Bucky’s knife at his hip and throw it at him but resist the urge and instead start rifling through your purse.

“I would have taken him to your apartment,” Zemo says softly. “But we thought perhaps moving him again might do more damage. His pulse is very weak and we’re not sure why he isn’t healing. I think something is suppressing his abilities. Normally I would rejoice in the new possibility of nullifying his type of strength but despite our turbulent history, Barnes is not a bad man. I promised to make certain that you two were reunited.”

Zemo sure did keep his word. Your fingers move at lightning speed through your contacts and you press your phone to your ear as it rings frustratingly slow.

“Who are you calling?” Walker asks, sounding irritated.

“Steve,” you tell them.

“Then this is where I leave you,” Zemo says. “I have kept my word. I hope you find a way to save him. Truly.”

When you turn to thank him for at least making sure you two managed to get back together you find he’s already gone.

Strangely, Walker moves towards you and unholsters the pistol at his hip. He removes the safety and then turns it around to offer you the handle.

“You know how to use one of these, right?”

You nod.

“I can’t be here when they get here. If anyone asks…”

“I get it,” you take the gun, fingers tingling at the powerful weight.

Walker gives you a nod, gives Bucky one last glance, then turns and leaves through the same doors that Zemo had brought you in through.

The phone finally stops ringing and Steve’s sleepy voice calls your name, “What’s wrong?”

“Steve,” you sob loudly finally.

“Where are you? What’s happened?” Steve demands, already breathing hard as you’re sure he’s pulling on his clothes and heading out the door.

“Bucky…” you begin. “Help me, Steve.”

“Turn on your bracelet,” he orders. “We’re on our way.”

The line goes dead and you reach with wobbly fingers to pinch the repaired silver button on your bracelet. It warms under your touch, vibrates once very quickly, and you hope that Steve and the others are fast enough to get here before you fall apart completely.

#bucky x florist!reader #flowershop au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky x you fanfiction #marvel au #avengers au #perennial #perennial pt21

119 notes · View notes