#I’ve had to carry everything on my shoulders for so long
Where the Heart Is (Ethan x f!MC)
Book: Open Heart
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Natalie Cusack
Special Appearance: The Ramsack Kids
Word count: 1325
Summary: Ethan comes home from a long day at work to a surprise picture from his son.
Rating: T (All the fluff)
Author’s Note: This is inspired by an event that happened at work today and by @lucy-268 who came up with the plot for this. This took me in a different direction than I planned but I hope you like it anyway. Enjoy!
Ethan yawned as he stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway. It had been an extremely long day and he was looking forward to having a nice evening with his family. The closer he got to the apartment door, the more he felt his shoulders begin to relax; he and Nat had made a promise a long time ago to leave work at the door and just be Ethan and Natalie when they were at home. When the kids were born, that promise became more important than ever, as both of them wanted to focus on their family rather than their work when they were home.
Taking a deep breath, Ethan felt the tension slip from his shoulders and he turned the lock. From the moment he entered the apartment, he was greeted by Jenner, happily wagging his tail, and the sounds of Noah and Evie chatting with each other in another room. Giving Jenner some well-deserved ear scratches, Ethan made his way further into the apartment, finding his children sitting together in the living room, working on a puzzle, while Nat watched from the kitchen, smiling. Noah was the first to notice his father’s appearance.
“Daddy!” he exclaimed. Standing up on his tiny legs, Noah ran over to Ethan, throwing himself into his father’s arms.
“Hi Bear,” Ethan said, kissing his son’s temple. He squeezed his son tightly and only let go when his daughter waddled over to him, saying “Da-da,” repeatedly. Swooping in with one arm, he lifted his daughter in his arms and peppered her face with kisses, making the young toddler squeal with laughter. With another swoop of his free arm, he lifted Noah and held both children tightly, indulging in the feel of his children in his embrace.
He smiled when he spotted Natalie making her way over to him. “Hello, beautiful,” he said, kissing her softly when she approached him.
“Hey you,” she replied, returning his smile. They maneuvered an exchange so Evie was now in Nat’s arms but Ethan was still holding Noah. “How was work?”
“Long, exhausting,” Ethan replied. “I’m just glad to be home.”
“We’re glad you’re home too,” Nat said. “I called in dinner just a little while ago; should be here soon. Chinese, okay?”
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, with Noah and Evie chatting their father’s ear off about anything and everything, not that he minded in the slightest. When dinner was finished and the kids were bathed, it was bedtime. “Come on, my little loves,” Ethan said, taking a yawning Noah’s hand. “It’s time for bed.”
“I’m not sleepy,” Noah protested, fighting back another yawn.
“I know,” Ethan replied, smiling. “But we have to sleep, it’s good for us.”
Noah shook his head in protest again but the argument was lost when he yawned so big, he nearly fell over. Ethan had to pick him up and carry him to bed, Nat and Evie close behind. After a quick bedtime story and monster in the closet check, the kids were asleep and Nat and Ethan collapsed onto the sofa, cuddling with each other.
“Mm, I missed you today,” Nat said, snuggling into Ethan’s embrace.
He tightened his hold on her and kissed her temple. “I missed you too; I should’ve taken the day off and spent it with you.”
“We would have loved that,” Nat said, kissing his cheek. “I taught Evie how to paint with watercolors. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more excited two year old in my life.”
Ethan laughed. “I’m sorry I missed it.”
“Do you have anything important to do tomorrow?”
He thought for a minute. “No, not that I can think of. Why?”
“Take the day off,” Nat suggested. “Stay home with us. Maybe we can take the kids to a museum or something.” She ran her fingers through his hair and gazed at him lovingly. “It’s been a minute since you’ve had a break. Give yourself a day off.”
He smiled and nodded. “Let me double check my calendar; but if I’m clear, then I’ll do it.”
“Good,” she replied. She leaned in and kissed him, then, soft and slow. Her fingers slowly tangled themselves in his hair at the nape of his neck while his hands tightened around her waist and he pulled her impossibly closer. The kiss began to increase in intensity, but Natalie pulled away when Ethan’s hands began to explore. “Hold on,” she said, breaking the kiss, “I want to show you something.”
“Hm?” Ethan asked, attempting to chase her lips with his own. She pecked him lightly one last time then stood up from the sofa and left the room to grab something.
“I’ll be right back,” she explained.
Sighing, Ethan leaned back against the sofa, sipping the rest of his whiskey from dinner. Louis, their calico cat, wandered over to him and nuzzled his face against Ethan’s, then made himself at home on the back of the sofa, just behind Ethan’s shoulder. He reached back and gave the feline some scratches on his ears but returned his attention to Natalie when she walked back into the room, holding several pieces of paper.
“Noah and Evie wanted to show these to you but we had to let them dry first. Noah wanted to know if you wanted to put it up in your office.” Ethan was so distracted by the paintings in Nat’s hands, he didn’t notice the mischievous smirk on her lips.
Reaching for one of the paintings, Ethan smiled at the mismatch of colors splattered onto the paper. Evie’s name was written in Natalie’s handwriting at the top and Ethan immediately recognized his daughter’s penchant for colors. He placed that one down and reached for the other painting-- Noah’s, he presumed-- nearly choking on his drink when he looked at it.
“What is this?” he asked, fighting back a cough.
Natalie laughed. “It’s supposed to be a cupcake,” she answered through laughter. “Noah was very proud.”
Ethan shook his head as he looked at his son’s picture. He could see how the picture could be interpreted as a cupcake, but, at first glance, it looked anything but. There was a candle on top of the cupcake that, combined with the cupcake itself, and the very pink color that Noah had painted it, looked rather… well, phallic. “Am I a terrible father for thinking this looks like a penis?” he asked.
Natalie laughed again and shook her head. “No; I thought the same thing. The pink color doesn’t help.”
“Not at all,” Ethan replied, laughing. “I love my son, but there’s no way I’m putting this up in my office. God, can you imagine me trying to explain this picture to Board members? I’d never hear the end of it.”
Nat nodded. “As amusing as that would be, I don’t think it would be very conducive to your work environment.”
Ethan chuckled and shook his head. “So, what do we do with it?”
“We can put in the file we have for them,” Nat suggested. “That way, we do our duty as parents and keep it, but it’s not on display for all to see, either.”
“Sounds like a solid plan to me,” he replied.
With a decision made, Ethan stood from the couch and pulled Natalie up with him, kissing her softly. “Come on, Mrs. Ramsey; you and I have a very important meeting to attend.”
“Do we, now?”
“Mhm; it involves you, me, and uninterrupted time in bed.” To emphasize his point, he scooped Natalie up into arms, bridal style, and began to carry her into the bedroom.
She giggled and kissed his cheek. “I like how you think, Dr. Ramsey.”
“Well, you did marry me for my brain.”
“Among other assets,” she said, winking. Ethan smirked and closed the door to the bedroom, kissing his wife soundly the moment they passed through the threshold, and spending the rest of the evening in each other’s arms.
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"you're still my number one"
Pairings: Haechan x Reader
Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), a splash of everything, fluff, angst, SMUT
**Request: idol!Haechan x P.A.!Reader / anon
“On in five!” You turned to hear the call of the director who’s face was more than a little disorientated.
The chaos seemed to only intensify with those three words. You slid against the wall, backing away as another frantic stylist rushed past you. It was always chaotic, but with all 23 members here, it was so much worse than it had ever been.
Sighing you tapped your fingers against your clipboard, eyes following the stream of people.
You nearly jumped at the sound, proximity of the voice far too close for comfort.
“Jesus Jaemin, you scared the crap out of me.”
He grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets as he too stepped out of the way. He kept his gaze on you, staring downwards intimidatingly, and the way his blonde hair shadowed his face only made it worse. “Haechan says to meet him in the first dressing room before you go home today.”
You furrowed your brows. Haechan was your boyfriend of six months, but having an idol as your boyfriend had some tolls. Not just any idol, but technically he was your boss. It wasn’t unusual to use the dreamies as messengers for the two of you, in fact they seemed to enjoy it quite a lot. Some in more sadistic ways than others, much like Jaemin here now. You spared his grin one more look, his expression one of knowledge that you didn’t have.
“But there’s the dinner meeting after the show.” You shook your head, “Tell him I’ll see him on Friday like always, it’s too risky tonight.”
Jaemin’s face fell. “But–“
“Look I just don’t want to lose my job. Plus if something goes wrong and word gets out that he’s dating someone, people will go berserk.” You straightened up after catching eyes with the head manager. “I’ve got to go. Tell him I’ll call.”
You left a disorientated Jaemin behind, eyes widening as he realized that he had to break the news to Haechan that his girlfriend didn’t want to see him.
But that was the farthest thing from your mind as you were handed a huge list of things to get done in the next hour, courtesy of the manager. His eyes seemed to linger on you longer than usual as you accepted the list, obvious that he was suspicious of you.
You let out a shaky breath as you exited the back door, finally thankful that you had some peace and quiet.
But it only lasted a moment, forced to start on your list in order to finish before the fan meeting started. The performance would only take so long, and with the length of the list, you weren’t even sure that it was feasible to make it before the meeting ended.
You rushed into the venue, chest heaving as you brought in the last of the things, happy that you made it at least with some time to spare. Albeit you missed 90% of the fan meeting, but it was enough to watch the end of the interactions, smile already forming as you watched how happy the boys were.
But your face quickly dropped at what you saw before you.
The smile on his face seemed so genuine, in fact it reminded you of when the two of you started dating.
You gulped back the lump in your throat as you watched their interaction, hands fiddling with the plastic of the bag you were carrying.
A far cry from the designer bag that was sitting so neatly on her shoulder. You huffed a breath out, sending rogue hairs out of your face, knowing that you looked like an absolute mess, especially in comparison to her.
How could he ever be interested in someone like you? When he had all these beautiful girls throwing themselves at him?
“Is that the last of the bags?” Sungho asked, taking the bundle of plastic from your hands.
“Oh.” You nodded your head, folding your arms as you finally pulled your gaze away from the front table.
Sungho stood next to you, head tilted as he glanced over your face, it was obvious that something was wrong. Sungho had been working with you since you started here, only a couple days your senior, and he happened to be one of the only people who knew of your relationship.
“Trouble in paradise?” He asked, now more focused on your counterpart, still chatting with the girl.
“No.” You mumbled, more focused on your dirty shoes that anything else, scuffing the floor methodically as a way to soothe your nerves.
He cleared his throat, rustling of the bag growing louder as he dug through its contents. “Here.” He nudged at you, pushing an ice cream bar into your hands.
“This is for–“
“Please, you think they’ll notice one missing? Besides, you need it more than them right now.” He smiled at you, patting your head comfortingly with a look of pity, before backing away towards the staff only entrance. “Don’t worry yourself okay?”
You nodded, avoiding his eyes as you stared at the wrapper of the bar, sighing deeply before following him.
It was around 11 pm when you finally got all your bags packed, exhausted and ready for a night home alone.
And that was the plan.
You let out a startled gasp as a hand latched onto your arm, tugging you into an empty dressing room. It wasn’t until you realized that it was your boyfriend did your heart calm down.
You smacked at his chest. “You scared me! Whatever happened to just texting?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You said you’d call. And you totally were going to ditch me tonight. Jaemin told me.”
You sighed, rubbing a hand over your tired face. “I wasn’t going to ditch you. I just said it was too risky.”
“Too risky?” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “There’s no one left here. Who’s gonna catch us. Or are you just trying to get extra alone time with Sungho?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t think I missed your little interaction today at the fan meet, him patting your head and everything.” He gritted his teeth, but it didn’t quite depict his anger in the way he wanted it to. It just ended up looking like was pouting.
You frowned, taking a step closer to him. “Sungho and I have nothing together, we’re just friends. You know that.”
He replied with silence.
“Seriously. You of all people have nothing to worry about.”
At this he turned again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You glanced at your feet, suddenly embarrassed as you mumbled out your confession. “You have hundreds of beautiful women who would do anything to be with you. If anything I should be the jealous one.”
The sound of his laughter rang through the room. You looked up shocked, only to find a wide smile on his face. “Hey. Don’t laugh at me, it’s not funny.”
But he couldn’t stop.
You huffed out, turning to leave the room, but he stopped you again. “Hey, I’m sorry. Okay. I wasn’t laughing at you I swear. I was laughing at the fact that you would even think I would look at someone else the way I look at you.”
The pout continued. “I saw that girl with the Dior bag. You were looking at her the way that you used to look at me.”
“Used to?” He shook his head, “Darling I still look at you that way, I probably won’t ever stop.”
You looked up at him with wide eyes, “But– She was so pretty and put together. And I’m–“
“My girlfriend. Trust me on this Y/N, you will always be my number one. There is literally no one else for me, okay?” His hand caressed the side of you face, a blush rapidly growing on your cheeks as his words hit you.
“No buts. Do I need to prove to you just how much you mean to me? That no one can out do you?”
The look in his eyes had changed, eagerness to please, to prove himself.
He leaned in, cutting off the breathy word, lips crashing against yours, growing deeper with each passing second. His hand traveled to your waist, tugging you closer as he walked the two of you towards the couch. Your bag fell to the ground, contents so carefully packed, now sprawled over the floor, but it never once took away your attention. He pushed you against the couch, moaning as his crotch dug against your hip, growing hard at even the slightest of touches.
Your hands flew to his hair, tugging gently at the longer strands, breathy moans spilling from his lips against your neck, loving the way that you send him to pleasure with even the most innocent of touches.
“Do you get it? Baby you do this to me. This is all you.” He mumbled, biting gently at your skin, you arching your back in response, unable to hold yourself back at the feeling, basically begging for him to touch you, to take over you.
Your wandering hands slipped under the back of his shirt, pulling it up to feel his muscles working as he held himself up above you. Your nails slightly scratching at the surface, not strong enough to leave marks, but just enough to send shivers of pleasure through him.
He was quick to tear off his shirt and yours, beginning to get impatient as he looked down at you, hair sprawled around your face like a halo, an image he was sure would be seared in his mind for the rest of his life.
“I love you Y/N.” Haechan breathed out, soft fingers running over your cheeks as you looked up at him, still panting and out of breath from before. He leaned in closer to kiss you again.
“I love you too.” You mumbled, hands already back to tracing circles on his now bare hips, teetering closer to the hem of his pants with every swirl.
He beamed above you, pulling away just before your lips could meet.
“Say it again.”
You smiled shyly under him, but complied, living for the look on his face, anything that would make him smile like that again. “I love you Hyuck.”
“God, if I could just listen to you saying that for the rest of my life.”
He leaned down and peppered soft kisses over your skin, slowly moving downwards until he had reached the top of your pants. With his eyes set on you, he tugged at the belt loops, sliding the fabric down your legs, tantalizingly slow for both yourself and him. It wasn’t until you were bare in front of him did he pull away, hands running over the skin closest to your core, but never giving you the pleasure of getting there.
You whined, bucking your hips up as he pulled his fingers away, leaving you missing the burning heat of his skin on yours. Standing up, he quickly pulled off his own pants, sighing as his hardened length was freed from the tight confines of his jeans. He slid back down, hands gripping at the sides of your hips as his face fell close against your thigh.
For a moment he simply rested there, cheek against your thigh as he stared at your core, arousal already dripping, eyes transfixed at the way that you dripped for him.
You whined, shuffling closer to him as he got the hint, fingers already dancing around your core teasingly.
He blew a breath of air on your core, the soft bout of air sending a shiver up your spine. Then he latched on.
His mouth was all over you in a matter of seconds, lapping up at the juices you had spared for him. You hands flew to his hair, tugging less gently than before, eliciting a moan from with as he had his tongue thrusting deep inside you.
His fingers had worked their way to your core, quickly swapping out his tongue for two of his fingers, hitting deeper inside you than he could’ve before. But his didn’t leave much time for you to relax, mouth suctioning over your clit, flicking the nub around with his tongue until you were sure you were on the verge of orgasm.
“Fuck, Hyuck.” You moaned out, breathing getting raspier and faster as you tried to hold on. “I’m gonna cum.”
Only letting you have one or two more pumps of his fingers, he pulled away, the feeling of lost orgasm wracking through your body.
His face with shiny with slick, as he wiped it off with the hands, using what transferred as lube. Haechan thew his head back with pleasure, releasing soft whiny moans as he flicked a finger over his tip, wrist pumping as he lubed himself up. His stomach wet with his own arousal, shining on his groin as you watched him move.
“Shit.” He mumbled, falling back towards you, lining himself up with your core. He took his time sinking into you, reveling in the way that your pussy seemed to suck him in, begging him to fuck you senseless.
Your arms had latched onto his back again, a desperate attempt to get him closer. He heaved out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding as he bottomed out, a moment of silence and heaving breathing took over the room.
Both of you were already so close, neither sure how long you could last.
But he began thrusting deep into you, slow at first, but he picked up the pace as he felt his orgasm coming. From he way that his hips were stuttering you could tell that he was close, and he used his hands to rub circles on your clit to get you there faster too.
“Fuck.” You groaned, the familiar feeling burning in your stomach as you scratched as his back, his lips trailing over yours skin as he fell on top of you, hips still pumping as fast as he could.
“God, I’m gonna cum.” He breathed out, whining into your hair, as he felt the way that you clenched around him, prepared to suck him dry.
With one last thrust he pulled out, shooting his load on your stomach as he heaved out, watching your own orgasm drip onto the couch. It took a few more spurts before he finished, exhausted from the escapade.
“Fuck.” He mumbled, scrambling up to wet a towel, cleaning you both up immediately with soft touches of cotton on skin. “Do you get it? How much I love you?”
You mumbled something incoherent back, smile adorning your face as you tugged him back against you, needing to feel his skin on yours again.
The two of you laid there for a moment, his hands stroking back your hair, pushing back wet strands that stuck to your forehead. “Don’t ever think that you don’t come first.”
You kissed his collarbone, nuzzling against it contently. “You’ll always be my number one.”
© Copyright 2021. hyuckssunchip. All rights reserved.
54 notes · View notes
hii!! Can I request the slashers with a normally hyper and funny S/O suddenly.. stopping? like, not eating, not making any more jokes, not wanting to do anything but sleep? thank you!
If any of you need to talk my messages are ALWAYS open! I’ve had experience with many things and am more than happy to help you get through your pain, you aren’t alone! 🖤
Also sorry some of them are short, my brain fried while making this... and I'm sorry it took so long...
Slashers x Depressed! Reader
TW: food mention, let me know if I missed any
↓Continue under the cut!↓
Notices right away, doesn’t understand what’s going on.
He’s confused, you were bubbly and happy, now you aren’t, what’s up?
Is uncomfortable with the change.
Gets concerned as fuck when he comes home and dinner isn’t done and you aren’t pulling a prank on him the second he comes back.
Goes to the room to see you in bed the exact same way you were a few days ago, in the same pj’s, curled in a ball, sleeping.
Has had enough when he hears your stomach growling, he now knows you’re not okay.
Scoops you up and carries you to the kitchen, puts you on the counter, and makes you some food.
If you don’t eat it he will feed you.
He’s in panic mode right now, you’re harming yourself and withering away, he loves you, please don’t leave him like everyone else.
This is the only time you will ever see him break his stoic personality.
He will remove his mask, pull you tight into a hug, shaking slightly, tears making your shirt and shoulder damp.
He’s being vulnerable, you’re witnessing The Shape, the Boogyman, cry.
He needs you in his life, you are the only one who can cause him to chuckle and smile when he never does.
You’re special, he trusts you, take care of yourself for him.
Will hold you the entire day and silently plead for you to eat.
Will take you to a therapist if you want to go, will break out of his comfort zone and take you to a specialist.
He wants you to go back to how you used to be, his bubbly baby with a joke in hand, he wants his baby back.
Him and Pamela notice right away and take immediate action.
Pamela will leave you two alone, but will check on you every now and then.
He will cuddle you, whining and whimpering because he doesn’t know how to help.
Kisses your face and rubs his thumb over your cheeks.
Will feed you if you don’t wanna eat.
Will risk everything to get you therapy if you need it.
He loves you and wants the best for you.
Notices after a day or two, waits for you to talk to him about it.
If you don’t talk to him about it and you get worse he will sit on the side of the bed, rub your shoulder, and ask you about what’s going on.
If you don’t wanna talk about it he will sit there in silence, just being there and letting you know he’s there, that you aren’t alone.
If you want cuddles he is there ASAP.
You don’t have to leave bed, he will make you soup or a sandwich.
Will feed you happily.
Will carry you to the bathroom and give you a bath in warm water.
Will plop one of his shirts on you and carry you around.
Finds a joke book and tells you a bunch of corny jokes.
Head kisses and “I love you”’s are never ending
Doesn’t notice until almost a week later, instantly on your case.
Dotting on you and worried as fuck.
He’s not worried about you not making him food, he could care less, he’s worried about you not eating or doing ANYTHING!
Instead of You bribing him to take a bath he will bribe you this time.
Goes in the walls sometimes blaming himself.
Sits next to you with a pb&j so you can eat, he doesn’t know how to cook.
Reads books to you.
Doesn’t notice unless he overheard people talking about it or was told about it.
Will creep up to you and lay his chin on your shoulder.
Pokes you and asks what’s wrong.
Makes you hot chocolate a lot.
Curls up behind you and kisses your shoulders.
Tells you to eat.
Leaves trails for others to take care of you because he doesn’t wanna get caught.
On days you both are alone he will cradle you in his arms.
Will try to pick you up but he has noodle arms like me.
Praises you 24/7.
Notices the second you act different, pushes Hoyt away and gets Luda Mae to help him make you happy again.
Rubs your shoulder and kisses your head.
Cooks food with Luda Mae to get you to eat.
Will physically fight Hoyt if he gets anywhere near you.
Holds you tight against his chest and sniffles you to show you aren’t alone.
Keeps his mask of to prove he loves and trusts you.
Nuzzles your neck and kisses your shoulder affectionately.
Whispers how much he loves you and how much you mean to him.
Will let you talk to him about everything.
Doesn’t notice right away.
Thinks you’re being lazy and is about to snap at you until he notices the way you act, and he realizes you’re going through the same thing he did as a child.
Sits next to you on the bed and after a few minutes of silence, will tell you everything will be alright and he's there for you.
Tells you some things him and his brothers did that were dumb when they were growing up.
Listens to everything you have to say very intently and repeats some things back to you to prove he's listening.
If you start to cry he will hold you close to him as you sit on his lap, will play with your hair and rub you back gently shushing you in an attempt of comfort.
Kisses your tears away.
Makes you food and eats food with you at the dinning table so he can watch you.
Gives you a cold glass of water.
Notices instantly, You aren't acting like yourself, something is wrong.
Stops working on his art and weasels his way into your room.
Instantly takes you to the kitchen for food, he saw this in his brother years ago and he is determined to make you feel better.
Many kisses without his mask on.
Has you drink a cold glass of water.
Puts one of his oversized shirts on you for a sense of security.
Takes you into the basement and sits you on his lap while he paints, if you wanna join or help he happily lets you.
Will play with your hair if you have any.
Will let you get wax out of his hair if he has any in it.
Lets you fall asleep on him while he works.
Spoons you in bed.
Oh no... it's Bo all over again...
Gets Jonesy and they both cuddle with you, kissing your face, and nuzzling you.
Tells you exciting stories of his job and when he was growing up.
Shows you all his scars and tells you what stupid thing he did to get them.
Takes you to the house of the twins so all three of them can care for you.
Bi will just check in on you, Vincent makes you food, and Lester is dotting on you more than ever.
Hugs you tight a lot and tells you how happy he is with you and how you make his life better.
Tells you how much Jonesy likes you too.
Never leaves you side ever.
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Natasha opened her eyes slowly. Everything was hazy. She groaned. She could tell something was in her system. Last time she had been drugged was when she was a teenager and when she had woken up a man- No. Don’t go back there. She closed her eyes again, forcing herself to give her body a mental scan. Her chest was heavy and she felt like there were weights on her limbs, but that didn’t hurt. Ah. There it was. A dull pain in her stomach that sharpened when she tried to move.
“Hey, easy.” Clint’s voice. She looked up into his blue eyes. “You got shot, Nat. Right through your stomach. You were in surgery a long time. You’re gunna be okay.”
“You look like shit,” she managed. He laughed, brushing her hair back from her forehead. “Let me sit up.” He sat on the bed next to her, sliding her carefully into a sitting position. She leaned heavily against his side, her breathing strained from the effort. He handed her a glass of water and helped her drink.
“I want to go home.” He gave her a look and she knew what he was going to say. “Please.” He buzzed for the doctor to come in. After a lot of promises to relax and to let Bruce know if something went wrong, she was discharged. She hated hospitals. She was grateful to get in the car, even if she didn’t remember the ride home.
“Can you help me?”
“What do you need?”
“I want to wash my hair.. brush my teeth.” She winced as she tried to sit up a little straighter. It took a lot of effort to get up. He helped her into the bathroom and she looked at the tub, realizing this might be harder than she had thought initially. She was already out of breath.
“Sit down,” he instructed, helping her down on the carpet in front of the tub. “Here, lean back… is that okay?” She nodded. He draped a towel around her shoulders and turned the water on. She closed her eyes as he started to pour water slowly through her hair with a plastic cup. His nails massaged her scalp gently. She sighed. He stopped for a moment to get some shampoo and worked it through her tangled hair, then conditioner followed. Once it was rinsed out, he took her brush and ran it through, careful not to pull.
“You’re good at this.” He laughed.
“I’ve never done this. You’re my first client.”
“I’ll come back for a second appointment.”
“I can help you get washed if you want.” She nodded, knowing it would make her feel better. He helped her get out of her clothes and sit on a towel, another one on her lap for some modesty, not that he cared and she was too tired to. She let him run a washcloth over her skin.
“Never thought you would be giving me a sponge bath,” she remarked, trying to make light of the situation. He smiled. “Thank you,” she said seriously.
“Of course.” He helped her into some clean clothes. She did feel better, but he stayed close as she brushed her teeth in case she got dizzy. “Don’t judge me for not flossing tonight,” she mumbled, spitting in the sink.
“People who floss are a myth.” She laughed, her hand grabbing his upper arm to steady herself as they walked back down the hall.
“I feel so useless.”
“I could carry you.” He grinned, knowing she would never let that happen.
“I would smack you if I had any energy.” She sank into the couch once they were back in the living room. She felt better now that she was clean, but the tasks had worn her out. She set a hand lightly over the bandages on her stomach. “I’m sorry.”
“Not being able to do things myself. Being an inconvenience. You know they would have killed me in the Red Room if I got hurt like this,” she said, a shiver running through her body. He slid a blanket over top of them even though he knew it was the memory causing her goosebumps.
“You’re not there, you’re here. And you’re with me and there’s no reason to be sorry.” He gently kissed her forehead. “Get some rest.”
“Don’t leave.” She suddenly sounded very small and soft.
“Never.” His voice was sure and steady, grounding her as she snuggled into his side. He held her, breathing in the scent of her damp hair against his cheek as she drifted off in his arms.
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I have reached a whole new level of executive dysfunction: Procrastinating a mental breakdown cause there’s too many things to have a mental breakdown over
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getting into a fight with their s/o :(
w/ kuroo, sakusa, and atsumu
WARNINGS: there are mentions of violence and some not-very-nice things are said :/ but everything is resolved and there are happy endings for everyone!
(a/n: i got a lot of similar asks and i wanted to combine a few of them, so here it is!
atsumu’s is definitely the most intense and the longest, and i hope it’s not too much! anyways
please enjoy and tell me what you think💞)
lately, kuroo hadn’t been spending very much time with you
it seemed like he was becoming more and more distant :(
after work, he wouldn’t come home for hours
he took a long time to respond to your texts and when he did, they were dry
you really trusted him, you did
but you couldn’t help but wonder what was keeping him away from you
you decided to confront him about it, hoping you’d gain a little insight
this was probably not the best idea you had, but you needed answers
“yes?” kuroo responds, eyes still glued to his phone.
you shift uncomfortably, trying to find the words to say.
“so, you’ve been pretty busy lately...”
“and.. i was wondering why that is?”
kuroo sighs, turning off his phone and looking up at you.
“i’ve just had a couple of things to take care of, that’s all,” he replies.
“like what?” you ask warily.
“just work things,” he shrugs, getting up to stand in front of you, holding your hands in his. “why are you so invested? it’s not that serious.”
“well, if i never even get to see my boyfriend, i think it’s pretty serious.”
he lets go of your hands.
“y/n, you’re being dramatic. why are you acting like i’ve dropped off the face of the earth?”
“because that’s how it feels, tetsu! i mean, i can’t even remember the last time we had a moment alone together,” you mutter. he pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling.
“babe, you can’t expect me to put my life on hold just to please you. i’m not always going to have time for you, and you need to accept that,” he replies, patience wearing thin.
“i’m not even asking for much, tetsurou!” you cry, desperate. it’s like he’s not even hearing you.
“could you stop being selfish? it’s like you think you’re the only person in my life. did you forget that i’m in this relationship too?”
you pull back, baffled. how are you the selfish one when it’s like he doesn’t even care for you or your relationship anymore?
“i never said anything of the sort! why can’t you just—”
“it’s always ‘you, you, you,’” he mutters angrily, interrupting you. “everything is always my fault, isn’t it? jesus, you’re so fucking annoying sometimes! why can’t you just shut up once in a while?”
tears are welling up in your eyes. you open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off.
“why am i even with you?” he spits.
you gasp softly. his words sting at your chest, and you take a couple steps away, sobs beginning to escape your throat quietly.
kuroo finally looks over at you, and the reality of what he’s said to you begins to sink in. guilt begins to creep over him, and he wishes he could take everything back. but he can’t, and he’s hurt you worse than he ever has and he doesn’t know what to do.
tetsurou knows he shouldn’t have gotten so defensive. and in the back of his mind he also knows that you’re right. but he’s been so consumed in his work that his obsession took over and he hurt you.
“‘m s-sorry, tetsu,” you gasp, heavy sobs wracking your body. “i just missed y-you so m-much.”
“baby...” he coos guiltily, reaching for you. you back away, arms hugging your waist tightly around each other. you look at him through your tears cautiously one last time before darting into the bedroom and closing the door behind you.
kuroo sits and thinks about what the two of you fought about.
you wanted your boyfriend back, and he... he..? what did he want?
he thinks about how he told you you were being selfish, but really, all you wanted was for him to be with you. and he couldn’t even give you that.
a few minutes later, he opens the door softly. your quiet sniffles reach his ears, and he sighs. you’re curled up in a little ball on your side of the bed, blankets bundled up over you.
tetsurou crawls into bed behind you and gets under the covers. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him. at the contact, your sobs grow louder, and you’re crying so hard you can’t breathe. he turns you over to face him and cradles you against him, his body warm and firm.
“baby,” he whispers. “i’m so sorry.”
“m-me too,” you mumble.
“hey,” he says, louder.
you look up at him.
“you don’t need to be sorry. okay? i said things i didn’t mean and didn’t even stop to think about how you felt. i didn’t even realize how selfish i’ve been, and you’ve been hurting alone and i never picked up on that,” he murmurs against your lips, and you hiccup. “but i’ll be better for you, ‘kay?”
a wobbly smile makes its way onto your face and you nod. he wipes away the remaining tears on your face and kisses you sweetly.
“does this mean you’ll cuddle me tonight?”
kuroo laughs lowly, resting his forehead against yours.
“i’ll cuddle you every night if i have to.”
you and sakusa have always been very different
you’ve always been a hopeless romantic; him, not so much
the two of you have always just had a lot of differences
today, sakusa was in a terrible mood
to be honest, he didn’t even want to see you today, just wanting to be alone
but you weren’t even aware of this, so you carried on as per usual
the minute sakusa walks in, he regrets it.
you seem to be in a better mood than usual, humming and cooking in the kitchen, in a little bubble of happiness. which is the opposite of how he’s feeling right now.
regardless, he walks in. you brighten at seeing him, immediately asking how his day was.
“fine, i guess.”
you pause, hearing something in his tone that seems a little off.
“you wanna eat, omi? i made dinner!”
“oh,” you mutter. it seems as though your boyfriend is in a bad mood. you figure maybe cheering him up could work?
“baby, i think you should eat! it might make you feel better,” you suggest, turning away to finish everything up. he glares at you, though you don’t see it.
“i already told you, i’m not hungry. i just want to go to bed, okay?”
“omi, you need to take care of yourself. you shouldn’t skip dinner.”
he sighs, irritated.
“y/n, i can take care of myself.”
“well, obviously you can’t, because your letting your mood affect your health, and starving yourself isn’t going to make it any better,” you mumble.
you don’t understand why he’s being so stubborn; you’re just trying to help.
he gets up and starts to leave, but you stand in front of him.
“y/n, can you just leave me alone right now?” he murmurs, annoyed.
“kiyoomi, talk to me, please? i just wanna help you...”
his patience is next to nothing now, and he feels like he’s going to snap.
“baby, can’t you just sit down with me and—”
“god, can’t you take a fucking hint, y/n?” he yells. you back away warily. “you really can’t do anything right, can you?” he mutters, and tears start to well up in your eyes, your reaction going unnoticed.
“just leave me the fuck alone, already! i don’t fucking want you here.”
at his words, it finally sets in that he needs space. you take a couple steps back, chest aching painfully, and sobs start to erupt, shaking your frame pitifully.
“i’m sorry, kiyoomi,” you cry, and begin to gather your things, preparing yourself to head out. it’s your fault he’s upset, so he probably wants you gone.
at this, sakusa looks up, and guilt starts to sink into his heart. you were just trying to care for him, and he wouldn’t let you.
you’re grabbing your things, and he starts to panic.
“y/n, wait!” he yells after you.
your hand is on the doorknob, and you turn back to look at him, fearing what he has to say to you. he runs up to you and you back into the door, scared, and prepare for the worst.
but he just pulls you into his chest, and that hurts more than anything he could’ve done to you. you sob into his chest as his arms circle your shoulders and pull you into him as tightly as possible.
“‘m s-so sorry, om-mi,” you gasp, clutching his shirt firmly and selfishly letting yourself be comforted by his warmth. he exhales.
“i never should have said those things, no matter what, baby. i didn’t mean them,” he apologizes. “i know you were just trying to look out for me, and i love you for that. okay?” he whispers.
you just nod, breathless and exhausted, and look up at him. he kisses the places that your tears have fallen, and then he kisses your lips, and the gesture is so gentle you could fall asleep.
“you wanna eat?” he mumbles against you. you laugh.
your boyfriend was very playful and a little immature
it was a rare sight to see him completely serious
but sometimes, when he became concentrated on something, all of that childishness disappeared
recently, atsumu has become even more consumed with volleyball
he’s been obsessed with the MSBY team and there’s rarely been a day where he hasn’t talked about the sport
you love his passion for volleyball, but you also miss him, as a person
today you decided to confront him about it
when atsumu finally comes home, it’s almost midnight. you’re reading on the couch, and at his presence, you bookmark your novel and close it, getting up.
“hey,” he mutters, barely even acknowledging you before pushing the door to the bedroom open and going in. you follow him.
“hi, baby. how was your day?”
“was fine, i guess.”
you stand there awkwardly, not sure how to carry on.
“i noticed that you’ve been really busy lately!”
you sigh, frustrated at his dry responses.
“do you think maybe you should take a day off?”
he exhales and looks up at you.
“well, even if i wanted to, i couldn’t. we still have a lot to do, you know,” he explains.
he doesn’t say anything, eyes on his phone. you grow irritated.
“atsumu, are you even paying attention to me? it’s like you’re not even here.”
he sighs, annoyed.
“look, i’ve had a long day, could you drop the attitude?” you scoff.
“attitude? this isn’t attitude, this is my reaction to you ignoring me for days on end and expecting me to be okay with it!”
he gets up off the bed.
“you think i’m ignoring you?” he asks, voice the opposite of gentle. “y/n, i don’t have the time to coddle you. i have a life outside of you, okay? you should come to terms with that,” he says, walking out of the room and into the kitchen.
you scoff and follow him, again, disbelief etched onto your features.
“so what, i’m not supposed to care when it feels like you don’t even care about me anymore?”
he glares at you and then looks away, filling a glass of water at the sink.
“can we not do this right now? you’re getting on my nerves.”
his audacity stuns you, and you can feel anger bubbling up in you rapidly.
“screw you, atsumu. could you stop thinking about yourself for ONE minute?”
he feels about ready to lose it, and while he feels dangerously angry, he’s not willing to step away after you’ve had the nerve to call him selfish. he takes a step toward you. you eye him warily.
“so this is my fault?” he mutters, scarily quiet. he takes another step toward you.
“atsumu, you can’t just put everything on me! you have to take responsib—”
he slams his glass down on the counter and it shatters, the force of his anger enough to break it. you flinch, gasping. he takes another step at you and you begin to back away.
“you’re always finding a way to put this shit on me, when none of this would’ve happened if YOU hadn’t been so fucking overbearing!” he yells. your hands have begun to come up protectively, and you’re crying now. he doesn’t notice your behavior.
“you know what, fuck you! stop blaming me just because i don’t have time to care about your STUPID FUCKING FEELINGS!” he screams at you. the volume and proximity startles you, and you trip over the rug and fall onto your behind, whimpering and backing away like a wounded animal.
atsumu is breathing heavily, the anger slowly dissipating as he looks down at you. his eyes widen when he finally realizes what he’s done, and his heart begins to squeeze painfully at the sight of you on the ground, afraid of him.
he hadn’t meant to get violent and loud and he definitely didn’t mean to say such things. he’s never yelled at you like this before, and now that he’s seeing the way you’re reacting to it, he never wants to do it ever again. he takes in the way he’s towering over you and the way you’re looking up at him as if you’re expecting him to hurt you.
desperate to fix this, he gets closer to you and tries reaching for you, but you back away from him desperately until you’re in the corner, hands coming up to shield you.
“p-please don’t hit me, ‘tsumu,” you whimper, sobbing. his heart sinks.
he inches toward you and takes hold on your hands, bringing them down slowly. you try to turn away.
“baby..” he whispers. “i’m not gonna hurt you.”
you sneak a glance at him cautiously, tears streaming down your face. he seems to have calmed down, so you relax a little bit, still a little on edge.
“look at me.”
you sniffle, and comply hesitantly. his gut wrenches at the fear lingering in your eyes.
“did i scare you?” he whispers. you nod, the action reluctant and nervous. he sighs, regret nesting in his stomach. “y/n, i’m not gonna hurt you. and i’m not going to raise my voice at you like that ever again. okay?” he asks, praying you’ll let him comfort you.
you crawl towards him apprehensively, as if you’re scared he’ll yell at you again. he lets you come to him, and you crawl into his lap, a little stiff at first, but relaxing at his warmth. he exhales in relief, arms wrapping around you softly.
“i love you so much, okay?” he whispers.
“love you,” you reply, letting yourself melt in his arms.
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iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.
the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.
wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.
hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.
it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.
iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.
over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.
hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.
he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.
god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.
“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...
oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.
hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”
the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”
“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.
they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.
hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”
toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”
he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”
iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.
“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”
all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.
a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.
“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.
they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—
“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”
the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.
“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.
iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.
hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”
and then he was gone.
toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.
apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.
you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.
“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”
toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”
you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.
“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.
inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.
you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.
“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.
he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.
later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.
i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.
i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.
you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.
uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.
sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.
he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.
anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.
take care of yourself,
℗ poker face
so... this is it
an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333
taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you
@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp
the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!
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guys my age
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pairing: steve rogers x reader
summary: having a crush on your father’s best friend shouldn’t be an issue, until that friend is steve rogers and he has you pinned against the wall.
word count: 4,070
warnings: age gap, implied absent mother, oral f receiving, language, fingering, sex, praise kink, slight degradation kink, dom! steve, daddy kink and some dirty talk.
author’s note: has been a while since i wrote a smut fic for steve so... here u are. as always reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! :) my work is not meant to be reposted or stolen, this is the only place i upload my work and if you steal it i’ll have early 2000′s chris eat your toes
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
It wasn’t often you found yourself as flustered as you currently were, seated between your father and his best friend Steve at a weekly dinner night in your home. Conversation flowed easily, you obviously, did not contribute much. The occasional nod and giggle when Sam made a joke or quiet praise of the food when your father asked you what you thought.
So why is it that you were feeling a steadily growing ache between your thighs in a place completely inappropriate for the thoughts running in your head?
It’s because Steve Rogers aka the most eligible bachelor of your town, all long lean legs and disproportionate shoulder to waist ratio, who had all the men and women fawning and tripping over their own underwear-
Was rubbing his denim-clad thick thigh over your bare one. Each pass of the rough material against your soft flesh made a shiver rack up your spine and arousal pool in your panties. He knew what he was doing to you, with his stupidly handsome face acting nonchalant when you sent him a glare, sometimes he didn’t even look back at you, just shovel another bite of food into his mouth and groan appreciatively.
The relationship you had with him was weird, you two had never… done anything persay. (Save for that one time earlier this year in July when he pushed you up against the side of your house when your dad was throwing his annual summer barbeque and he kissed you.)
It was so dirty, the thoughts and fantasies you had about him. You both know if your father ever found out he would serve Steve’s head on a silver platter. But that didn’t stop you from dreaming about what it would be like to have his fingers pressed up in places you have never been able to reach, or his head of perfect golden locks between your soft thighs or his uncut cock pounding into you making you scream loud enough he has to cover your mouth with one of his thick hands and grunt into your ear, “Shut the fuck up, don’t want your dad to hear you being a little slut for me do ya?-
A worried call of your name pulls you from your vivid daydream and you’re snapped back to reality with everyone’s concerned stare on your squirming body, including Steve.
Your father places a hand on your shoulder, looking at you with question when he asks, “Is everything alright honey?”
You bring a hand up to your forehead as if wiping off sweat and you respond “I don’t feel very good, I think I’m gonna go to my room.”
The table sighs sadly, calling out feel better soons. And just as you’re about to leave the room your dad calls for you to wait, and you see him whisper to Steve, the man nodding his head before getting up from his place at the table and making his way to you. You watch in a trance as he stalks over to you with a knowing smirk on his face, and you barely register your dad’s words before Steve is ushering you up the stairs with a gentle hand on your back.
What the fuck?
You’re about to ask what Steve was doing because you were fully capable of walking yourself upstairs and second of all the only reason you made that excuse was so you didn’t have to deal with him anymore. What about that did he not understand?
Apparently none of it when he pushed you up against the door of your room, what is it with this guy and pushing you up against doors?
But that didn’t matter, not anymore because his warm breath twinged with whiskey was fanning over your face, deep blue eyes pouring into yours filled with desire and something dark.
Whatever it is it makes you squirm where you’re trapped between the hard muscle of his body and the door. It’s silent for what feels like eternity, he’s studying your face, searching for something… hesitance? A sign that you don’t want him here.
He finds none, instead he feels the wet spot on your panties drip onto his jeans.
He makes sure you watch as his wrist moves to lock the door and you gasp softly with the sheer intensity of him. The click echoes in your bedroom and it almost solidifies what will no doubt be happening today. Months and months of tension finally reaching its breaking point and ready to erupt.
“Do you want this?” He finally breaks the silence, and you fear that he could hear your heart thumping in your ears.
You nod your head, eyes glossed over already and legs wrapped around his slim waist and pulling him
impossibly close. You attempt to tug him towards you by the collar of his shirt but he doesn’t comply, “I need words sweetheart. Because I’ve been waiting way too long to do this and if you don’t want something I need you to tell me.”
A boost of confidence overpowers you, your fingernails dig into his back, pressing his broad chest flush against yours. “I want this so bad, please fuck me Steve.” You drawl sweetly, voice so seductive it makes Steve buck his hips up.
With that he crashes his lips onto yours, all fire and passion and he easily claims his dominance over your body. Steve Rogers is a good kisser, you already know this. His lips are soft and unrelenting and a soft moan slips past your lips at the familiar vision of his pink lips sucking your clit, drawing orgasm after orgasm from you and not stopping until he’s reduced you to nothing but a mess of slick and wanting and desperation.
He swallows the sound with his mouth and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning quietly as he pulls you off your door and carries you two over to your bed, your arms wrap around his neck both for purchase and to satisfy the need of having him invade your senses.
He throws you onto your plush mattress, your body bouncing a little at the contact and Steve’s hand goes to palm at himself over his boxers because you already look so ruined and he hasn’t even started.
Your thighs are rubbing together to quell the pressure building in your core, he looks so much bigger than you like this. He sits down at the edge of your bed, wrapping a hand around your ankle and using it to spread your legs open; eyes closing in bliss when your scent wafts into his nose. He couldn’t wait to devour you.
“Please!” You whine, now unable to bring your legs close together to find some relief and you felt so vulnerable like this.
“Please what little girl?”
A strangled moan elicits from your chest at the pet name. It was so wrong, so incredibly wrong, but his lips pressing kisses against your leg felt so right.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
You always assumed he would be dominating in bed, he just had that aura. And god you really weren’t expecting it to swing out full force like it had because you had been with two… sub par men before him. And from what you had seen- felt pressing against your thigh, he was certainly no less than well endowed.
(And from the few whispers you had heard around town…)
“I- I want-” And yet for all your fire you couldn’t bring yourself to say the lewd words, please Steve? Please fuck me until I’m sobbing and ruined for any other man.
And he seemed to catch your mental strife, enjoying it even, a smirk playing at his lips. He assumed you would want to be a pleaser in bed, that’s what he thought of when he had a hand wrapped around his length pumping embarrassingly quick and groaning your name into the vacant space of his room, releasing all over his abdomen and hand imagining it was you, looking up at him with glazed over doe eyes instead.
“What do you want sweetheart? Use your big girl words like I know you can.” He peered up at you through his insanely defined lashes, trailing a feather light finger over your panties and living for your quiet gasp and shudder. “I want your- your tongue please?”
He offers you a kitten lick at your lace covered clit and the simple touch is enough for your back to arch off the bed making him chuckle before digging his thumbs with a bruising grip into your hips. “A lot more sensitive than I thought, don’t worry baby I’ll warm ya’ up nice for me.”
You exhale sharply when he tugs your panties off with his teeth, you wanted so badly to look away but his eyes baring into your soul so addictive forced you to maintain eye contact. He let out a low growl of approval at your slickened mound, your clit sitting below a few soft curls and he can’t stop himself any longer as he leans down and licks your whole cunt in a way that has your toes curling and feet digging into his back while a choked sound leaves your lips making him groan low in his throat.
“Has anyone touched you like before sweetheart?” The deep baritone of his voice slightly muffled and you can see his now swollen pink lips glistening with your arousal. You shake your head no frantically, digging your fingers into his styled and slicked back golden locks. He hisses at the sting but it makes blood rush to his throbbing cock.
“No- no one has.” You gasped breathless from the new sensations tingling in your body.
It seems like that awakens something in Steve, like you can see the way his chest expands and some heavy possessiveness settles on his shoulders. It makes you preen.
He hooks his thumb on your clit, rubbing slowly to build up the pleasure while you now shamelessly grind your cunt into his face, searching for more friction. He groans against the sensitive skin of your cunt, the vibrations shooting up your spine and pushing you embarrassingly close to your orgasm. Your first real orgasm.
Steve looks up at you from his eyelashes, grinding his hips into the mattress at the look of pure pleasure painted on your blissed out features. Your chest begins heaving and the sight is enough incentive for Steve to begin licking and sucking your pearl relentlessly, your legs begin to quiver around his skull and your moans fill the room, and it’s this moment Steve is exponentially grateful that your room is on the complete opposite side of the house or else…
He doesn’t want to think about that, not when he has his face slick with your juices and uncomfortably tight pants.
Your hole begins fluttering, pulsing and at this point you’re unable to even moan. Your mouth drops open as you try to squirm away from the incessant pleasure but Steve digs his rough fingers into the skin of your hip, tutting at you and holding you in place and for some reason the simple action is enough to have more slick spilling out of you and coating your thighs. “I’m I’m gonna- fuck!”
Steve laps up at the essence of your orgasm, groaning at the delicious taste of you and he makes a mental reminder to get some more later. “There we go, good girl. Tastes so good on my tongue.” He moans.
Your legs continue to quiver, mind foggy as he rubs his warm hands over your tender skin, and he leans down over you, connecting your lips to his in a heated kiss that has you whining into his mouth. You pull away, breathless and head lulling to the side giving him free reign to cover your neck in bits and kisses. Your fingernails dig into his back and soft sighs escape your lips when he finds your sweet spot and sucks, intending on marking you up.
“Such pretty noises sweetheart, who are they for?” A cocky smile could be heard in Steve’s voice, and your own flustered giggles filled the room and you attempted to bury your face into his clothed chest.
To which he wrapped a firm hand around your throat to gently pull you back to meet his fervent gaze. You swallowed a moan simply by the look in his eyes when he repeated himself lowly. “I asked who you were moaning like a little slut for?”
This time you could not have done anything to stop the moan that was bubbling in your chest. Your eyes hooding over with his mischievous ones burning into your exposed body. “For you… Daddy.”
You watched giggling as he growled, tightening his grip on your throat before pulling you up so you were perched up in his lap, and his thick fingers travelled down to your slick mound, rubbing your wetness and making a mess out of you. The feel of his clothed body sent your bare one into an almost sensory overload. You gasped sharply when he spit down onto your cunt, your hole clenching wildly as pure need seeped through your veins.
Then he was shoving a finger inside of your hole, the intrusion slightly painful at first but it quickly turned pleasurable, the angle allowing him to hit all your sweet spots. “Yeah? You like Daddy’s fingers in that tight cunt?” He purred into your ear, stroking your slick walls before inserting a third digit, the stretch making your legs quiver around his waist.
“Yes Daddy I love it.” You mewled right into his ear, and it makes him hum low in his throat before picking up the pacing of his pumping fingers. Your fingers are digging into his shoulder blades as he forces you to maintain eye contact, pressing his forehead against your slightly sweaty one and cooing to you. God you just needed a little bit more, just a tiny push and you would-
“Who would have thought someone as innocent as you was really a filthy cock slut? You just want your holes filled up like a good girl don’t you honey?”
Black dots erupt in your vision, your orgasm washing over you so suddenly and so intensely you’re squirming and unable to do anything more than drop your mouth open, not even letting out a noise. Your slick pools out and spills onto Steve’s hand, to which he groans appreciatively as he continues to massage your overstimulated walls. “I know, I know. It feels so good doesn’t it? Only a man like me could make you cum like that.”
You whimper pathetically, head falling into his chest as you ride out your orgasm, feeling his erection poking into your thigh. Somehow with your still foggy mind you manage to reach down and cup him through his jeans making him hiss and buck his hips upwards. He slaps your hand away, pulling it behind your back when he pushes you flat down onto the bed. “Did I say you could touch me?”
“No what?” He prompted, voice on the edge of annoyance and laced with irritation that had your eyes watering and bottom lip jutting out.
“No daddy.” You spoke as assertively as you could in your foggy state of mind. Though you weren’t entirely sure of how convincing it was. But it seemed to make due enough when Steve finally began unzipping his jeans, still not bothering to undress completely so you whine petulantly. “‘S not fair, I don’t wanna be the only one naked.”
He chuckles, murmuring a fair enough and begins to unbutton his dress shirt revealing his torso littered in tattoos. You had seen them before obviously, your family and him going on annual trips to the beach since you were a toddler.
But there was just something different… something more consuming about the way they looked so up close. He smirked arrogantly as you were unable to detach your eyes from his sculpted body, shamelessly roaming over the bare skin.
“Like what you see, pretty girl?” He taunts, pulling your bottom lip with his teeth making you shiver and clutch onto his biceps. You nod your head in a daze, bucking your hips up so he could finally give you what you’ve been wanting since that godforsaken kiss in July.
… Or maybe a little longer.
“What?” He laughs, “if you want something you gotta use your words sweetheart. I’m not super familiar with modern slang.” An annoyingly smug smile on his face and you want absolutely nothing more than to just slap it off. But you know that would never end properly for you so you decide against it. Swallowing your embarrassment and mustering up the courage to put into words how badly you want him to ram his cock inside of you and fuck you till you cry.
So you settle for a more tame version of that, “I want you to fuck me please Daddy? I’ve been so good haven’t I?” And for extra measure you pouted, hoping to lure him into your fool proof plan and even though he knew good and fucking well what you were up to, he played in anyways because he really didn’t think he could go another minute without being inside of you before he bursted.
“You have been a good girl, and you know what good girls get?”
“They get what they want.” You giggled and he laughed too, pressing a kiss to your lips and finally pulling his erect cock out.
Your eyes almost bulged out of your head when you took in the size of him, he was much bigger than you had imagined.
And trust me, you had imagined.
“Nervous? I’ll make you feel so good sweetheart I promise. Let me take care of you.”
You nodded, hand limply finding place on his chest, his lips meeting yours in a more gentle kiss as he rubbed the head of his cock over the length of your cunt. You gasped into his mouth at the friction. Much to your dismay however, he abruptly pulls away and you can barely furrow your brows in confusion, “I don’t have a condom.”
You bite your lip, leaning over to the top drawer of your nightstand and waving it around as if you had just won the greatest prize of all… and in some way you were about to. He huffed a laugh, “been thinking about this for a while huh?”
“Not particularly you Daddy, I talk to other guys you know.” You cheekily remark, barely registering him snatching the condom out of your hands and putting it onto his cock before he leans his weight on your body. “Yeah?” He asks with a quirked brow but you know his words are anything but questioning, and now you can feel the heavy weight of his cock tapping against your entrance.
“Well other guys don’t have you spread open like a whore while you call them Daddy do they?”
He sheathes himself inside of you, grunting and eyes clenching shut because you feel so warm and wet and tight around him, walls pulsing to get used to his intrusion. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, nails digging into the muscles of his back. You’ve never felt so utterly full in your life. He wasn’t even moving and you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You moaned right into his ear and he couldn’t help the response of his hips.
“Please move Daddy.”
He begins thrusting into you, slowly at first because Steve knows he’s much longer and relatively thicker than average too. And he knows you’re inexperienced no matter the hint of brattiness you decided to give him.
He leans back to see his cock glide in and out of your folds, and the sight makes him moan with overwhelming pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer, your mouth dropped open in a permanent moan because he truly was so much bigger than any guy or toy you’ve used.
Not that you’ve used a lot but still something tells you Steve is just… big.
“Look at this pretty pussy just swallowing my dick. Did I fill you up sweetheart? Makin’ you feel good?” He purrs.
“So good! So fucking good Daddy!” You sob out, back arching underneath his continuous assault on your hole. His hands latch onto your waist, “you want me to fuck you harder?” He questions in a stern tone that makes your toes curl and each shove of his cock inside you sends you closer and closer to that blissful peak.
At this point you are unable to formulate any words so you just nod, hoping he understands. Your mind felt like it was on the edge of Nirvana, his cock hitting spots in you that you didn’t know existed.
He groans with how fucked out he’s got you already, and speeds his hips up. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the room and it makes you preen. His heavy grunts and your girlish moans fill the sex thick air.
It’s when you start screaming from pleasure that pulls out of you, flipping you over and manhandling you into position, you can barely register the loss of his warmth and he’s delivering a harsh smack to your ass before shoving himself inside of you again. And before you have the chance to scream he makes use of his fast reflexes and covers his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds. You can feel him much deeper now, and it feels like he’s actually rearranging your insides. “Can’t shut the fuck up can ya? Almost like you want everyone downstairs to hear who’s fucking you nice and rough.”
You don’t respond; can’t. You’re so overstimulated yet you need more. His degrading words make you preen, your legs jerking wildly beneath his relentless attack on your abused cunt. “What? Did I fuck you stupid? But baby you haven’t even cum around my cock yet?” His voice has a mocking pout in it, only sending you flying towards your peak. You’re so close, and your clit bumps against your soft duvet cover with each intense rut of his hips against yours. He tightens his grip on your mouth just a little bit and your fingers dig into his wrist as your release shatters and ruins you all at once. There’s tears streaking your cheeks as your high blends into the next one and Steve is unable to hold himself back any longer so he comes with a grunt of your name, digging his teeth into your shoulder and riding out his release.
You fall limp against the bed, chest heaving and body covered in a sheen layer of sweat as you recover from your 4 powerful orgasms. He gives your exposed skin a kiss before pulling out of you, making you whine at the loss of him inside of your walls but he shushes you, murmuring about how he’s only going to grab a towel from your connected washroom to clean you off with.
You wait patiently for him to come back to you, mind still blissed out and a lazy smile on your lips because you feel so fucking amazing. Pleasure and satisfaction pumping through your veins.
Just as he promised he’s back with a wet rag, gently wiping at your abused flesh and applying some lotion to your ass even if he hadn’t spanked you that hard. You’re not complaining as he kneads your flesh though.
He gently rolls you over so you’re flat on your back again, and he runs his knuckles over your cheekbone. You pout your lips, bottom lip jutting out expectantly and you whine for a kiss and he chuckles, shaking his head, humoured but complies anyways.
You two don’t break apart until there’s a knock at your door and your father’s voice follows,
“Darling? Are you feeling alright? Is Steve in there with you?”
Your eyes go wide with frantic emotions and you struggle to come up with an answer but Steve smoothly swoops in.
“I’m in here, don’t worry. I’m taking real good care of her.”
Your dad couldn’t see you sucking on two of his fingers with tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
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The Garden Thief (M)
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 9.3K
Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers
Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).
Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.
A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!
“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—
You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”
The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.
You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.
The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.
“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...
“No, he’s at work.”
“When will he be back?”
“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”
Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?” You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.
“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”
The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”
“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.” The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.
“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”
“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.
The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.
“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”
“A stake out?”
“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”
You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”
“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”
“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.
Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.
It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.
The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.
And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.
Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.
After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.
Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’
‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’
You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.
‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’
You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.
He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”
“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”
“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry. “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”
“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”
“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”
Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.
“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”
“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”
Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”
You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”
“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”
You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”
“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”
“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”
“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”
“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.
Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.
With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.
“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”
His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”
“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”
“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.
“You want to help?”
“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”
“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”
“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”
“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”
“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”
“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”
“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.
The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.
“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...
“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”
“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”
“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head. “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”
“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose? “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”
You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.
The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside. Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.
After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’
“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”
“Caffeine and water?”
You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”
He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”
“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”
“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”
You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”
“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”
“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”
You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.
“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”
You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”
“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.
“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”
Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.
You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.
“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”
“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”
His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a warm and earthy scent envelopes you. His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.
Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”
“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.
You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”
“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”
The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”
“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.
“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.
Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”
“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.
“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”
“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.
“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”
Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.
Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”
Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”
You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”
“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”
“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”
“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”
“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”
“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”
“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.
“I suppose not.”
“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”
“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”
“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.
“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”
“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”
“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel. Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.
While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.
Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”
“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”
“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.
“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”
“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”
“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”
“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.
“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”
“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”
“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”
He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”
You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.
“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.
“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”
You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid. “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”
“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”
“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”
“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”
“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”
“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”
“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin. “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”
You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.
“Sorry for leaving you.”
“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.
“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”
“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”
“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”
“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”
“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”
“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”
Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.
While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.
“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”
You nod. A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”
“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”
“If that’s what you want to do.”
“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.
“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”
Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”
When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.
Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.
Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.
He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.
“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.
You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.
After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth. He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.
Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.
“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”
“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”
“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”
“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.
It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts. And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.
But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.
He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.
As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.
“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.
You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”
“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”
“It’s not your fault.”
You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”
“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.
“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”
“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”
You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”
“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.
“Then do it.” You demand of him.
He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”
“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”
His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.
He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.
Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.
Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.
A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.
He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.
“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”
“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”
You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.
You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.
“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”
“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.
His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.
You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.
His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.
After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”
You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”
“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”
You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”
You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.
On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom. A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.
The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.
Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.
A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.
“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”
“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.
“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”
Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”
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Feel the burn
Title: Feel the Burn
Summary: At Sam’s insistence Steve tries a new gym, with surprising results.
Pairing: Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader
Warnings: Mildly dubious consent, Public sex, Obsessive behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, A/B/O Dynamics
A/N: Just migrating another couple of fics over here 😅 Hope you all enjoy this next installment. God, something about doing it in public just gets me 🥴🥵. This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk!
“I gotta say, man, I’m surprised it took you so long to come with.” Steve watched Sam shoulder his duffel bag as he closed his locker with a bang. “These S.H.I.E.L.D gyms are trash.”
Their Sunday workouts had become less impromptu and more routine, but even so, Steve had hedged at trying a new gym. At least he didn’t have anyone gawking at him in the workout rooms on the compound, even if they were lacking in equipment and space. Dealing with curious onlookers—possibly even the press—wasn’t a particularly attractive outcome.
“Natasha keeps telling me I’ve got to get out of my comfort zone,” He replied, grinning. It was easy to see this was a much more modern building, and when they entered into the lobby, Sam swiped his card and waved to the receptionist.
“He’s with me.” He said, pointing at Steve. The young woman nodded, her lips parting and a blush rising to her cheeks as she recognized him. Steve had grown used to that, however, and shot her a winning smile as he walked by. Her scent spiked in response, and he inhaled it thoughtfully.
The weight-room was everything Sam had said it would be, and soon the muscles in his arms and legs burned from his exertions. They’d been at it all morning, and to Steve’s surprise, almost no one had paid him much heed. A few people had recognized him, but most were respectful, keeping their distance and not attempting to engage him in conversation. The receptionist had peeked in a few times, but he couldn’t fault her for that.
“I’m going to get some water.” Steve clapped Sam on his shoulder as he exited. There were so many more scents here than on the compound, it was almost overwhelming. The closest water fountain was just in front of the dance studio, and though the signs outside boasted of its soundproof walls, Steve could still hear faint music coming from under the door.
He bent down to the fountain, taking a few swallows of cold water before wiping his lips and beard of the excess liquid that had gathered there. He couldn’t help himself, and peeked through the glass window again. There were three people inside, two women and a tall, lanky looking man. They were watching the smaller of the two women go slowly through some sort of routine, demonstrating it.
She was truly tiny comparatively, Steve estimated no taller than five and a half feet, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Steve watched, impressed as she dropped into a squat, her arms moving in intricate patterns as she knitted her brows in concentration. A thin sheen of sweat shone on her copper colored skin as she popped back up to standing, grinning as she explained something, gesticulating wildly. She was a cute little thing, her curvy body offset with lean muscle.
She’d make a good fighter. He thought absently, his eyes still raking greedily over her form. There were precious few Omegas on the D.C. compound, which Steve was certain was no accident. Several of S.H.I.E.L.D’s best agents were Alphas, and it wouldn’t do to have them slavering after their coworkers. Their scents all carried the unnatural, chemical tang of suppressants as well, making them even more unappealing to Steve’s discerning Alpha brain.
I want to scent her.
There was a schedule posted outside the door, with names and blocks of time during which the room was reserved. He checked his watch, before narrowing his eyes at the scrawled handwriting.
He could wait twenty minutes.
When he returned to the weight room, a small smile on his face, Sam looked at him questioningly.
“Find something cool?”
“I think so.”
They’d already been there all morning, and fifteen minutes later when Steve suggested they head out, Sam was more than agreeable. He didn’t question it when Steve went back for more water, bending his head to drink from the fountain just as the studio door opened.
“I’ll see you later. Don’t forget Saturday, yeah?” The taller woman was leaving, hefting a backpack onto one shoulder as she looked back. “Yancy said the music is gonna be fire. ” There was nothing interesting about her scent, though not unpleasant. Another Beta. For a moment, it was all he could smell, but as she passed, a second scent wormed its way into his brain, making his eyes heavy and lidded. Steve found himself licking his lips hungrily.
He’d always had a thing for Omegas, and though as an Alpha he was compatible with just about anyone, there was something especially enticing about having a whiny, needy Omega begging to be knotted.
“Hah! Okay, Kate. I’ll see if I can swing by.” The answering voice that filtered out of the room was bright and energetic, followed by a giggle. “You better practice!”
Sam’s voice startled him out of his reverie. “You good, man?” He asked, leaning against the glass beside the fountain. “Your mouth is wide open.” Steve snapped his jaw shut audibly, nodding.
“Yeah. Yeah.” He waved him off. “I’ll meet you at the car.” Sam gave him one more suspicious look before shrugging.
Steve turned his attention back to the studio, where only the little Omega remained. It looked like she was picking up, tidying the room for its next use. There was no need, it looked like there was already cleaning staff employed for just that task, but she continued sweeping anyway. Steve waited until she was wiping down the barre next to the mirror to enter.
Her eyes flicked up to his. “Sorry, I’ll be out in a second, just making sure we don’t leave any mess for you,” She apologized, her tone placating.
“Oh don’t rush on my account.” He said smoothly. “I’m a little lost, actually,” He replied, false embarrassment coloring his tone. “It’s my first time here, and I think I took a wrong turn somewhere.” Her gaze turned sympathetic and she laughed, leaning on the barre.
“No problem. I’m always getting lost in here, it’s massive. Where are you trying to get to? I’m just on my way out so it’s all good.” She tossed the used wipe into the trash can, and seated herself on the hardwood floor while she tugged her socks and shoes on.
“The locker rooms,” Steve replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he gave her a self-deprecating smile. “Sorry again.” He watched as she glanced around the room, checking to see if she was leaving anything. As her back was turned, Steve leaned closer, inhaling her scent into his lungs, tasting it on his tongue. She smelled sweet—like summer ripe peaches.
His mouth watered.
“They’re down in the basement,” She said, closing the door behind her as they exited into the hallway. “But you can only use the ‘B’ stairs to get there, so it’s confusing.” She led him down the hall, past other workout rooms, and what looked like a yoga class to the back staircase.
“Thank you for showing me,” He replied casually, though his eyes were locked on her form, watching her every movement. When they reached the lower level, she turned to head down the hallway towards the exit, but Steve caught her hand. “I’m Steve.”
Her pretty face flushed as he grinned at her expectantly. She flushed at his smile, playing with an escaped curl of her coily hair before mumbling her own name. “Nice to meet you.” He could practically hear her heart pumping loudly in her chest, and it was impossible to miss the way her teeth sank into her plump lower lip as his thumb brushed across her knuckles.
“Nice to be met.” He knew he didn’t have much more time, Sam was waiting for him, and wouldn’t stay outside for long before he came looking for his friend.
“W-well I’ll see you around, Steve,” She stammered, still worrying her lip with blunt teeth.
“See you around.”
I’ll certainly be seeing you.
It only took two more trips to Sam’s gym to run into her again, and it was easy to find her in the locker room, that juicy, peach scent leading him straight to her. She was sitting on the bench, facing away from him as she pulled her riotous hair up into a knot above her head.
“Hello again,” He said once he’d had his fill of watching the muscles bunch and relax under her smooth skin. I bet it’s soft. She squeaked in surprise before turning. A relieved expression spread across her pretty face and she smiled up at him.
“Hey! Look at you, finding the locker room,” She joked, standing up. Steve grinned in response to her ribbing.
“What can I say?” He drawled. “You gave me such good directions.” He winked at her, almost groaning as her scent spiked around him. She certainly wasn’t on suppressants, that much was abundantly clear—the strength and clarity of her scent made that a no-brainer. A blush colored her cheeks as she looked away, embarrassed. Steve turned to put his bag into one of the empty lockers, watching her continue to get ready out of the corner of his eye. “Do you come a lot? You seem to know the lay of the land pretty well.”
“Oh yeah. Well I mean I teach a class every other week here,” She chirped, rising to her feet. “Every Thursday.” She was so sweet and friendly, so forthcoming with information that he barely even had to dig.
“That’s fantastic. I should stop by sometime.” He replied, fixing her with another disarming smile over his shoulder. “I’m stiff as a board, though.” She laughs, waving him off.
“Oh, stop. I’m sure you’ve got some rhythm in there somewhere.” She stretched, before putting her hands on her hips decisively. “Well, I’ve gotta go, don’t want to be late for class,” She joked. Steve watched her go, his eyes glued hungrily to her swaying hips. The entire day he could smell her, her scent lingering just inside his nostrils, teasing him.
That pleasing, home-y Omega scent was doing maddening things to his brain, making him think very unbecoming thoughts about her, who he just knew was one floor above him, leaking that sweet scent all over everything she touched.
He could only complete a couple of reps before he was storming back down into the locker room, practically ripping her locker door off of it’s hinges. It was mostly empty, save for her bag and a few other odds and ends—pens, hair ties, socks. In the back, there was a small laundry bag, likely where she stashed her sweat soaked clothes until she could take them home. Steve’s eyes went bright, and before he knew it, he was rifling through the bag, shaking her clothes out onto the empty locker room floor.
It didn’t take but a few seconds to find a pair of her panties, and without hesitation, Steve raised them to his face, inhaling her scent deeply as his cock throbbed in response. He cleaned up carefully, closing the door and replacing everything he’d moved—save the lacy scrap of fabric in his pocket.
And when he returned to the compound that evening, he pressed them to his face again, huffing her scent as he gripped his cock hard, imagining just how tight and sweet and delicious she was going to be when he could finally fuck her. It had been so long, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be stuck fast; knotted in a tight, quivering Omega.
And if he had it his way, he wouldn’t be waiting to do it much longer.
“You’ve been working out a lot,” Sam said over lunch. “Maybe you should get your own membership, that way I don’t have to go with you,” He said, laughing. Steve shrugged.
“You’re right, I should.”
Steve had been going as often as Sam would go with him; watching her classes, learning her schedule. He knew she would work tomorrow, knew she would get there exactly at 10am to do warmups on her own for an hour before her students got there. He knew she would leave at 3pm, and that she took the R train home.
And when she left the gym the following day, exactly at 3, Steve followed her easily. She didn’t even notice him, standing just feet away. He frowned—he would have to teach her to be more vigilant. She remained unaware when he got off at the same stop she did, following just behind her as she went up the stairs and out the exit. She lived in a small walk-up, devoid of roommates from what he could smell.
Steve resisted the urge to follow her up—he was rock hard already just being bathed in her scent. He wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself with her alone, and his for the taking.
Back at the compound, her panties were still under his pillow. The scent which had been almost overwhelming in its intensity was almost completely faded now, and even as Steve pressed them to his face once again, he grunted with dissatisfaction. Not enough.
It wouldn’t ever be enough again, he knew. He wanted too much to feel that soft, supple skin under his fingers, wanted to feel her tight pussy stretched open around his thick knot rather than just imagining what it might feel like. He pressed his tongue into the fabric, the muted taste of her making him groan and his cock throb even harder.
She had to know what she was doing to him, didn’t she? Prancing around the gym in those barely-there crop tops, her sports bra doing next to nothing, beads of sweat running down her exposed skin… Steve fisted his hand around the base of his cock, not stopping until he’d shot all over his hand, cum dripping steadily from his fingers to the floor. He frowned in distaste at the waste of it before grabbing a towel to clean himself off.
Steve waited until after her next class to speak to her again. She smiled at him as he entered the studio, leaning on the broom she’d just been using.
“Not lost again, are you?” She joked, and he smirked.
“No, this time I’ve got a favor to ask,” He replied, and her eyes grew bright with curiosity. “A friend of mine is getting married, and he asked me to come.” A half truth—while it was true that one of the agents he worked with was getting hitched, Steve didn’t know him nearly well enough to care to attend the wedding, let alone be in the service. Still though, he watched her features soften into a longing look, before she smiled.
“Oh, that’s so sweet! I love weddings,” she said wistfully. “I can help you get into dancing shape by then, no problem. I bet it’s a super fancy wedding if they’re asking you to dance. If you come by class next time I’m sure I can find some time—”
Steve cut her off quickly with a bashful look and an anxious smile. “I don’t think I could do it in front of all those people.” He furrowed his brows. “I’d be happy to pay for private sessions, I’m just a little embarrassed.”
She nodded understandingly. Such a sweet little thing, this Omega he’d found. “Well… when’s the wedding? If it’s really soon we could meet as soon as tomorrow and start—”
“Perfect. Tomorrow is perfect.”
“O-okay. Why don’t you give me your number and um, we’ll coordinate?”
He could barely contain his elation. Steve waited until she was busily entering her own contact information into his phone to take hers and do likewise. It was too easy to send the tracking code from her phone to his, just like Natasha had taught him—though not quite for use under these circumstances.
When he checked his phone later, he could see the bright red dot sitting stationary on the software. She was at home. Steve wondered if she was thinking about him. It was almost too much to imagine those slender little fingers traveling down to bury themselves in her sweet cunt—he shuddered.
There was almost no one in the gym when he arrived early for practice with her—She worked there, had a key, and had opened the studio early to save him embarrassment. Of course, he had no intention of learning anything —about dance, anyway. She was waiting for him in the studio, doing stretches against the barre. She’d forgone her usual sweatpants today, and Steve couldn’t help the rumbling growl of approval that emanated from his chest at the sight of her muscular thighs and shapely ass so clearly outlined by the clingy fabric of her leggings. Steve padded over on silent feet, stopping just behind her.
“Morning, teach.” She squealed and whirled around to face him, her hand pressed to her chest in surprise.
“Steve!” His name coming from her lips felt so good, he almost wished he could rewind time to hear it again. “You scared me.”
“Sorry, doll.” He drawled, enjoying seeing her teeth sink into her lip. “What do we do first?” Watching her stretch for hours on end wasn’t currently an option, though he wouldn’t have minded doing so. He inhaled deeply—she smelled so good . Earthy and warm. Standing so close behind her made him want to sink his teeth into her throat, but he resisted the urge with herculean effort.
She turned to face him, her expression all business. “You know, it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize you’re, you know. You.” She replied, holding onto the barre behind her as she bent forward, her curls barely touching the floor as she stretched.
Steve chuckled, rubbing his neck. “Sorry about that. I was kind of enjoying the anonymity.” He admitted, and she rolled back up to standing, smirking just a little. “Drop me into a warzone? No problem. Ask me to dance in front of my coworkers…” He grimaced, and she fixed him with an understanding expression.
“Oh God. I get stage fright too,” She admitted. “Not fun.” Steve was only half listening, his eyes fixed on the sight of the curve of her ass reflected in the mirror. “So let’s start you off with some stretches, just to loosen up your muscles a little. The last thing I need is ‘Captain America pulls hammy at local dance class’ on my conscience,” she laughed. “Let’s start with your legs about shoulder width apart—yeah, just like that!”
Sam had done a fairly good job at getting him up to snuff when they’d started going to the gym together. Steve knew how to stretch before a workout, but he was more than happy to let her run her cool little hands along his body, positioning and bending. Steve had been wise enough to wear loose fitting joggers to the gym that morning—and it was a good thing too, because he was already half hard just from being near her. Damn it.
It was all Steve could do to keep himself from snarling and grabbing her. He wanted to suck her plump bottom lip into his own mouth and scrape his teeth against the tender flesh until he tasted her blood—
“So let’s go ahead and start with a basic slow dance…” Her voice interrupted his racing thoughts. “I mean, it’s a traditional service, isn’t it?” She asked, and Steve nodded distractedly, nostrils flaring as he watched her move over to the stereo. “I’m not going to start with any music, I figure just the metronome will be alright.” He heard her start it, and the rhythmic tapping began echoing through the studio.
There was a light blush on her cheeks as she stepped forward, avoiding direct eye contact. “So, um, I’ll have you get nice and close—Oh!” Steve stepped forward, his hand going around her waist expertly, and tugged her so that she fell forward just a little, her breasts pressing softly against the hard planes of his chest. He quickly suppressed a pleased groan.
“Like this?” he asked, schooling his features into the picture of innocence. He could feel her heart hammering in her chest, and her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips.
“Um, y-yeah,” She stammered. She reached back to check the placement of his hand, and Steve couldn’t help but relish the feel of her soft fingers caressing the back of his hand. She stepped back a bit, and looked up at him before resting her hand on his shoulder. “So, um, if you’re really comfortable with your date, you could put your hands on their hips, or shoulders,” She explained, bashfully looking away when his gaze became too much to handle. Steve’s mouth was practically watering. He knew he had to be pumping out pheromones like mad—after all, he could almost taste the thick, heavy scent of her arousal all around them. It emboldened him.
Steve dropped both hands to her hips as though at her own suggestion, unable to help when his thumbs caressed the bare skin at her midriff, just above her leggings. There were little beads of sweat beginning to pool at her temple, and he could see her nipples hardening through her thin bra and t-shirt.
“A-a-and then, you’ll want to shift your weight, as, um, you move back and forth with your partner,” Her voice faltered a little as Steve began leading her, his hands still gentle on her hips. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” She asked softly, a breathy laugh escaping her chest.
“Mmm,” Steve replied noncommittally, swiping his thumbs across her flesh again, and enjoying when she shivered. “Not really,” He lied. “I didn’t even dance at any of those fancy parties they make us go to.” Her scent was so thick now, it was coming off of her in waves. She pushed away from him suddenly, her hand going to her head as she shook it, as though attempting to clear her foggy thoughts.
“S-Steve, I think maybe we should wait until some of the other folks get here,” She said softly, retreating further away from him to lean against the barre. “I think, um—”
“What do you think?” He drawled, crossing the distance she’d created between them easily. He caged her in with his arms, leaning down so that their faces were almost touching. Her eyes were wide, and her pupils dilated. She had to know by now what his intentions were—she wasn’t stupid, his Omega.
“Steve, I—I think maybe we’re a little worked up, and we should stop before we do something we both regret—” Hot anger laced through him at her words. As though he would regret anything. He didn’t let her finish, and slated his hot mouth over hers, sucking bruisingly hard on her lower lip while she whimpered and opened for him easily. Steve grinned against her mouth and dragged his canines down her lip, splitting it. He moaned when the taste of her coppery blood hit his tongue, and when he opened his eyes again, there was hardly any trace of blue that could be seen around his pupils.
He pulled away, marveling at the bright welling of blood gathering on her trembling lower lip. He swiped it away with a gentle thumb before cupping her face.
“What’s the matter, doll?” He asked, dropping a softer kiss onto her pouting mouth. He could tell his scent was wreaking havoc on her senses, and it would only take just a few more pushes until she was putty in his hands. Steve ran his thumbs across her pebbled nipples, drawing them over the curve of her breasts before settling on her waist and massaging the tense, fluttering muscles in her belly.
“We can’t!” Her voice was panicked, even as she pressed into his hands. “I—I—” Steve leaned down to lick the side of her throat, laving all the way up to her ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth, groaning. She was in no position to be giving him orders, but his bossy little Omega didn’t seem to grasp that just yet. Steve slid his thigh up between hers, and growled audibly at the feel of her damn heat through the flimsy fabric.
“You gonna tell me what I can and can’t do, doll?” He asked softly, before dragging his teeth down her throat. He laved the reddened welts roughly with his tongue. She let out a little whimper.
“I’ll—I’ll get f-fired,” She stuttered, a strangled moan escaping her throat when he began dragging his thigh back and forth, grinding it hard against her. “Steve if someone s-sees—” Despite her weak complaining, her scent grew thicker—just a little. Steve smirked at this, and ran his tongue along the shell of her ear.
“You worried someone will see us, doll?” He asked, and she nodded quickly. Steve reached up to cup her breasts, rolling her taut nipples between his rough fingers. She mewled. “I wonder what they would say, hmm? You think they would watch me split you open on my knot, Omega?” She was panting, half drunk on his scent the way he was on hers, and his words weren’t helping. Steve pulled his leg away from her, and she made a disappointed noise in her throat as her hips moved to follow. His gray sweats were stained just a little darker where she was sitting, and Steve groaned at the sight of it.
“Poor thing, you soaked all the way through your leggings, didn’t you?” He taunted, drawing a thumb across her parted lips before dipping it inside. She latched onto it, sucking as he pumped it in and out of her mouth. She released him with an audible pop when he grasped her breast roughly, and Steve was mesmerized by the dribble of saliva that dripped down her chin. He repeated the action with his index and middle finger, shoving them into her mouth while his other hand feverishly worked at tugging down her leggings. Her ass was resting on the barre, her back against the mirror as her feet dangled just a few inches off of the floor.
“Alpha.” He corrected, delighting in the little tremor that ran through her heated flesh. She was only wearing a thong underneath her leggings, and Steve groaned, snapping the elastic band against her skin.
“Alpha!” She cried out in surprise. Steve ‘hmmed’ in response, tracing her soaked slit reverently. She was so wet the fabric was practically see-through, and as he peeled it away, the sight of her wet, dripping pussy made him close his eyes and moan. “Oh God ,” she panted helplessly as he sank a single finger into her. Steve had to stop his knees from trembling, and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers to steady himself. She was so tight , he didn’t even know how he was going to fit his cock inside, let alone his knot—and the very thought made him throb hotly in his pants.
She keened, bucking her hips as she sought more friction, grinding against his hand. Steve grinned lasciviously, before inching his finger out slowly, knuckle by knuckle. Her lidded eyes flew open, and she whined, reaching for him to try and force him back.
“Ah, ah. Patience, Omega. I waited so long to have you,” He crooned, dropping to his knees in front of her. “Open for me. Thaaat’s it. Good girl.” He helped her part her thighs, spreading them wide open so that he could see every bit of pink, glistening flesh between her legs. Her cheeks were ruddy from pleasure and embarrassment, and Steve couldn’t help but think that perhaps his Omega might have a penchant for fucking in public. He leaned forward and ran his tongue up the same path his fingers had taken, moaning audibly at the taste of her.
Steve sucked her clit into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue as she writhed. If not for his iron hold on her hip, she might have slipped down to the floor right along with him. He ran his tongue through her folds, sucking down her juices greedily. He pulled away, nipping the soft flesh of her thigh with sharp canines.
“Say ‘thank you Alpha’, for making you feel so good, Omega,” he instructed, knowing she was too far gone not to comply.
“Thank you, Alpha! Thank you Alpha!” The words tore themselves raggedly from her throat as he pushed her further and further toward the inevitable. The metronome was still going, only it’s quiet ticking was drowned out by her breathy moans and cries. Steve growled against her, before closing his teeth gently around her clit and pulling .
She came apart in his mouth, shaking and crying out so loud he would have worried someone would hear her outside the building if not for the soundproofing. Steve wiped his mouth and stood tall over her trembling form, his eyes hungry.
“Thank you, Alpha,” she mumbled again as he helped her off of the barre and down to the hardwood floor.
“Alpha’s not done with you yet.” He said quietly, pausing to suck his fingers clean of her. “Not by a long shot.”
“Steve, where are you? Fury’s losing his shit, man.” Sam’s voice was irritated, but not concerned. Steve held the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he spoke.
“Sorry, I went for an early workout and forgot to report back.” He replied absently. “Got my hands a bit full at the gym.” He couldn’t help but smirk at the dual meaning behind his choice of words. His hands, of course, were currently full of sloppy, wet, whimpering Omega, but Sam didn’t need to know that. They were seated in one of the burner Jeeps that Fury let them drive off the compound, the seat pushed all the way back as she straddled him. Her form was draped over the steering wheel, hips deliciously close to his face as he pumped two fingers lazily in and out of her wet heat.
As if on cue, she whined loudly when he crooked them inside her, her thighs trembling as she tried to hold herself up.
“What was that?”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Steve lied, scissoring his fingers. “Tell Fury I’ll be back soon.” He could practically hear Sam shrugging as the line went dead. Steve tossed the phone haphazardly into the passenger seat, before leveling a hard smack against her ass. She cried out, even as her cunt clenched hard around his fingers.
“You almost got us caught, doll,” He chastised, loving every breathy whine he coaxed from her. This was almost too perfect—after she’d cum all over his face in the practice room, Steve had been tempted just to sink his cock into her right there—but there was a class due to start soon, and he didn’t really want anyone else to see her.
It was a titillating thought, though.
“Just think, if anyone walks back here, they’ll see you. Soaked and messy, and all full of your Alpha.” She tightened around him again, and Steve knew he couldn’t wait any longer. His cock was rock hard, the tip reddened and throbbing eagerly. She whimpered as he slipped his fingers out of her and pulled himself out of his sweats, pumping his cock a few times and smearing her juices across his own flesh.
“No,” She moaned, though he wasn’t sure what she was denying.
“No what, Omega?” Steve grasped her hips easily between his hands, turning her around effortlessly to face him. She weighed practically nothing compared to him. Her eyes were bright, and lips parted as she panted. Her hair had come out of it’s messy bun long ago, and was wild and loose around her shoulders. Steve had already pushed her sports bra up and over her breasts, exposing them lewdly, and her leggings were somewhere in the car, abandoned hastily when he’d tugged her inside. “No, you don’t want anyone to see you getting that sweet pussy filled up by your Alpha? No you don’t want me to split you open with my cock? Which is it, doll?”
Steve wasn’t used to speaking so obscenely, but she just… brought it out of him. Made him want to be filthy with her—and hell was it getting him off. Steve wasn’t sure he could have anyone else after this, she fit so perfectly against him, and the sounds she was making were driving him fucking crazy.
“I—I—I don’t want anyone to see!” She cried out desperately, burying her embarrassed face in the crook of his neck as he chuckled at her. His cock was leaking, and Steve’s eyes rolled back in his head as the tip slid against her. She whined.
“Oh, baby.” He groaned, moving her hips back and forth, dragging her soaking pussy along his cock. “Then why do you get so wet every. Time. I say it?” He thrust up into her, pushing the tip just inside of her. She moaned loudly, and fought his grip in an attempt to force him all the way in. “Tell me how bad you want Alpha’s cock here in the car, where anyone could walk by and see you.” Steve could feel her breath puffing hotly against his skin, licking and sucking at his pulse.
“I want you to fuck me here, Alpha!” Steve could hear the shame in her voice, and he took one hand and pushed back against her shoulder until he could see her flushed face.
“I-I-I—‘’ She covered her face with her hands, even as Steve thrust gently against her.
“The longer you take, you know, the more likely it is someone will see,” Steve said lowly, still refusing to allow her to sink down onto his cock like she wanted. That seemed to spur her on, and she turned her watery eyes to his.
“I want you to fuck me right here, Alpha.” She said quietly, her lip trembling even as it felt like her pusssy was trying actively to suck him inside. Steve’s own self control was hanging on by a thread, but he was determined to make her lose it before he did. “I-I-oh fuck—I nee-ed it, Steve!” She cried brokenly, and he knew he had won. Steve pushed some damp strands of hair out of her face before raking his teeth hard across her lip.
“Good girl.” He snarled, sheathing himself inside of her in one smooth motion. Her head lolled back as a low moan forced itself out of her throat. Steve sucked one of her pert little nipples into his mouth, pulling at it with his teeth as he slowly lifted her off of his cock; pulling her up until just the tip was inside, and then slamming her back down. She was mumbling words in between the incoherent cries, and it took Steve a few moments to realize it was his name .
“Fu-uck, Steve, yes, yes, Steve—” She was tightening around him so deliciously… Steve groaned, his arms going about her shoulders as he fucked up into her, holding her in place. Suddenly, the parking gate opened, and another car drove slowly into the lot. Her body immediately tensed, and she attempted to clamor off of his lap, but Steve held fast, continuing to drive his cock into her with heavy, measured thrusts.
“Steve, they’ll see—!” She said desperately, though her words were cut off with a sharp snap of his hips, and they devolved into another ragged moan. “Oh God!” The car parked across the lot, but still in clear view, and the driver exited, heading for the gym entrance. They glanced toward the jeep, but headed inside without investigating further. Her pussy tightened so hard and so fast it was almost painful, squeezing his cock for everything it was worth as Steve fucked her, reaching between their bodies to toy with her swollen clit.
“Think they saw us?” He asked mockingly. He twisted the throbbing nub of flesh with expert fingers, and her body convulsed, going rigid in his arms. Steve’s own eyes rolled shut at the sensation. “I wonder what they thought seeing you like this, doll. Tits out, getting fucked open on Alpha’s cock.” She whimpered at his words, though her pussy continued to grip him like a vice. Her thighs shook, and her blunt fingernails scored his back as he forced her closer and closer to the all consuming orgasm only he could give her. “Knew you needed this,” He snarled, sucking hard enough on her neck to leave an ugly bruise. “Showing up in that shirt, those goddamn leggings just to tease me!”
“N-no, Alpha,” She cried in denial, even as she cocked her head submissively to the side, allowing him further access. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“Little fucking show-off.” He could barely hear her rebuttals he was so lost in the pleasure of her body. “Say it. Tell Alpha how much you like showing off, and maybe I’ll let you cum.” He growled, delighting in the whimper that escaped her. “Now!” He thrust up into her rapidly, losing control of his pacing the closer he got.
“C-caught you watching me once,” She admitted breathily. “I— fuck, ugh— I liked it!”
Steve kissed her, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and greedily swallowing every breathy noise she made. He fisted his hand in her messy curls, yanking her head back as his knot began to swell at the base of his cock.
“Gonna mark you, fill you up, Omega,” He panted, his eyes wild. “Whole world’s gonna know who you belong to, always. ” She seized up around him, crying out as she fell to pieces on his cock, her entire body shaking. She threw her head back, her lips parted as her hands scrabbled for purchase against his smooth skin. Steve fucked her through it, his knot grinding against her clit and sending shudders rolling through her body.
He came then, with her still pulsing around him; shooting thick ropes of cum unp into her as his knot held them together, stuck fast. Steve was panting too, and as she slumped, boneless into his arms, Steve cradled her head with a gentle hand, tilting her head to the side.
“Alpha?” She mumbled, her thoughts obviously still scrambled. It didn’t matter—He’d already made his mind up. Steve didn’t want anyone else—how could he, now? He wanted to scowl down at the little Omega murmuring sleepily in his lap, but she clenched around him again, and he shuddered. Perfection. Steve caressed her cheek before sliding his hand gently down her throat, locating the mating gland at the base of her throat with the pad of his thumb, pressing on it gently. She whined uncomfortably, but he silenced her with a look before pressing his lips to the already bruised flesh of her throat.
“I told you I was going to mark you,” He replied before sinking his teeth into her flesh, feeling it tear beneath his canines as her sweet blood burst into his mouth. His eyes slid to half mast as he laved the wound with his tongue, his cock throbbing. Steve fucked up into her lazily, and she let out a strangled cross between a hiccup and a moan.
“But Steve—” He lifted his head from her throat, licking her blood off of his lips. He knew he had to look intimidating, his eyes hard.
“Is there someone else?” He asked, narrowing his eyes as he looked at her. She ducked her head, shaking it.
“Good, Omega.” He lowered his head again, lapping at the sluggishly bleeding puncture wounds at her throat. She wouldn’t be able to mark him until her next heat, but that was fine. Steve could be more than patient when he set his mind to it. “Don’t fret, doll,” he stroked the side of her face affectionately, grinning when she leaned into his palm. “I just don’t want to share.”
Her cheeks colored, and she began pulling down the bra and t-shirt Steve had pulled up. She was so cute, fucked completely silly and stuck on his knot for the foreseeable future. He glanced down the line of their bodies where they were connected, and licked his lips.
“Um, Steve? Since we’re… you know… could you at least drive around to the back, where no one will, you know… see us?” She asked embarrassedly, playing with a coil of her hair. Steve chuckled.
“No one will see you, doll. Not here.” She looked at him confusedly, raising an eyebrow. Steve rapped his knuckle against the windshield, and then the window. “Tinted.”
She slumped against him, sighing with relief. “Good. Because that was my boss that walked in.” Steve chuckled, before rolling his hips into hers again. She mewled, hissing. “Steve!”
“What’s wrong, Omega? Tired already?”
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Dsmp angst sentence starters
Sapnap, Georgenotfound, Philza, Technoblade, Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit, Tubbo, Ranboo, Badboyhalo, Punz, Ponk, Awesamdude, Karl Jacobs, Quackity x reader (Separate)
word count : 1.k
warnings : major fucking angst, have fun
synopsis : Angst sentence starters
authors note : some had happier endings than others, sue me.
“Are they really just friends?”
Sapnap snapped his head over to you in surprise, lips parting at the knowing glint in your eyes and the half-assed smile that accompanied it.
You’d known Sapnap held feelings for Karl and Alex for some time now- you just didn’t want to acknowledge it. But when he looked at them like that, how could you not? That was how he used to look at you.
“Y/n…” Yeah, maybe he didn’t think of the pair as just friends, but he didn’t wanna lose you either, “Don’t-“
“It’s fine, I’ve known for months- Go get them Sap.”
“I can’t sleep.” George stood at the entrance to your room, rubbing his eyes tiredly, feeling relief wash over him when you pulled back the covers.
Pulling George into your arms, you started to hum as you massaged his scalp, “Don’t worry about Dream or XD or any of that, alright? Just focus on me for right now.”
Burying his face into your chest, he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in your scent. You, you, you. You were his light in the lightless and bottomless pit his best friend had dragged him into.
“Can you just kiss me? One last time? That’s all I ask.” Goosebumps ran up your body as his wings encased the two of you, blocking you off from the world. You searched into his blue eyes, seeing the same desperation reflecting back.
“Y/n…” Phil whispered, as if anything over that decibel level would shatter the reality around him. His lips slammed against yours in the exact desperation that was bottled up in his eyes; he didn’t want to let you go so soon. “I’m sorry it had to end this way.”
You shook your head, smiling at his shudder when your fingers trailed up his wingspan, “Don’t be. I sealed my fate happily the moment I fell for you, Angel of Death.”
“You’re making me think that what they said about you was right.”
Tech froze, dropping his axe, before he marched across the room to face you. “You don’t mean that. Tell me you don’t actually mean that.” His crown was starting to slip.
Your bottom lip trembled, “I don’t...I don’t want to mean it.” With trembling hands, you gripped his cape tightly, “But you almost…” You gasped when Techno lifted you into the air, instinctively latching your legs around his waist.
“I’m sorry.” Techno shook his crown off in favor of nudging his head under your chin, “I didn’t mean to spiral out of control- but I would never hurt you. Me or the voices.”
The tears were wiped away before they could even fall, “Tech, ‘m sorry-” You hummed when his lips were pressed against yours, giggling as his tusks poked you. “I really love you, you know, Blood God?”
The pinkett growled playfully, “I love you too. I promise I’ll never scare you like that again.”
“Trust me on this.” Wilbur held you close to him, leaning against the stone wall, as he tried to soothe your worries with his words.
Your eyes widened at Phil’s voice but were unable to turn around due to Wilbur’s iron grip. You listened as your lover rejected his Father’s advance to stop this madness, and felt a dread when you were yanked back with the man you loved.
“It was never meant to be.” The button was pushed, everything exploding, as Wilbur continued holding you against him; He forced Phil to drive a sword through both of you that day.
“Not everyone is going to hurt you.”
The statement plummeted you into a state of shock, forcing your body to stand in place as your brain processed his words. A cold feeling washed over your body and you knew it was him.
Ghostbur wrapped his arms around you from behind, burying his face into the crook of your neck without hesitation. He knows you know he isn’t Alivebur, but he didn’t like the way you kept up the obsidian walls around your heart.
“Just let me into your heart.”
“Please look at me.” Tommy’s desperation seeped through his voice- Everyone was treating him like he wasn’t even real and he couldn’t have you treating him like that too. Not you.
“I can’t! Because...because if I look at you and see that you’re actually alive and right here in front of me, you might just disappear.” Your voice broke off into a whisper as you shook your head, but eventually, your hues wandered up to meet his blue ones.
“I’m not gonna disappear, N/n. I’m back- and I’m right here. I promise.”
“You know I’m not like that.”
“But aren’t you, though? I mean, come on, Tubbo! You- you built nukes. NUKES! And, and for what? So you could pull another Wilbur, except this time on someone else’s land? Which is if someone threatened you?!”
Tubbo stared at your angry pacing with his ears drooped. He didn’t like that tone of disbelief bordering fear in your voice. You sounded like him when Schlatt told him he was going to die.
You eventually stopped moving, choosing to stand in place and pull at your hair. A million thoughts were hammering through your mind, but one screamed at you so loud it was like your head would explode : Was this even your Tubbo anymore?
You frowned, still trying your best to wipe away the boy’s tears before they hit his skin. “I know, Boo, I know. I’m here, though.”
He’d never been broken out of his enderstate before; standing out in the middle of nowhere in the night put him on edge. Did...did you think he was a monster? Were you going to abandon him? Thrown him in jail? Maybe-
“Ranboo.” Your eyes carried all the words he needed to know as you smiled, smoothing down his hair softly. “We’ll figure this out together, okay? You don’t have to be scared when you’re with me.”
“I know you still love me.”
You stared blankly out of the window in the room you’d been locked in; inside of Bad and Skeppy’s mansion. “Yeah?”
Bad frowned slightly, moving forward to trail his hand up your back and secure a hold around your waist with his tail, “Don’t you, muffin?” His head nuzzled into your neck.
You glanced over, feeling disgust bubble in the pit of your stomach at the white color of his clothes. “No. I love Badboyhalo- not whoever, or whatever, you are.”
“How long will this go on for?” Your hands fiddled with the golden choker you wore, gazing up at the vine covered tower. You dropped your head back down and turned, meeting red eyes instead of the baby blues you’d come to love.
“What do you mean, babydoll?” Punz glanced down at you, wrapping his hand snugly around your throat to tilt your head further up, before placing a kiss against your lips.
You were silent for a moment, “Nevermind, Luke.” You quirked up your lips to try for a smile, kissing him back quickly to hide your doubts.
The blonde hummed, pulling you close by your shoulders, and walking toward the Eggpire’s meeting room, “Okay then, baby. We’ll go somewhere nice after the meeting, alright?”
“Yeah…” You sighed, gripping his dull blue sleeve. You hated everything that had to do with that atrocious egg.
“Why are you so stubborn?!” You cried, twisting your hoodie tighter around Ponk’s arm- or what was left of it.
“Don’t...don’t cry, N/n. You’re too pretty to cry-“
“Now is not the time, Ponkie!”
He smiled, slightly delirious from the pain, and nuzzled his head against your shoulder. “It’s always the time to tell you how pretty you are. I’m so lucky to have you, ya know? Always...always taking care of…-“
“NO! Stay awake, damnit Ponk, stay awake! You need to hear how lucky I am to have you.”
“Please don’t misunderstand me.” Your lips tugged into a rueful smile, “I love you, Sammy. You know I love you, but…”
Sam watched as you gestured around the main hall of the prison, furrowing his brows when you casted a distasteful glare.
“Pandora’s Vault has changed you. I’m so proud that you were able to build this- all by yourself- but I’m disappointed you’ve turned into...someone. I don’t know who, but it’s not Awesamdude. Not my Sam.”
His trident clattered against the prison floors as you backed up closer to the portal, “Y/n, wait! We...we can talk about this, I can fix it, I-“
“This isn’t another build, Sam. It’s our relationship.” You curled your fist up into a ball, “And I can’t sit around and watch you become like him.”
“Am I too late?”
“Never.” The light reflecting off the diamond ring adoring your left hand stated otherwise, but your smile rivaled the piece of jewelry, shining so bright Karl thought he’d met the embodiment of the moon.
He shifted his gaze to the shiny rock, “I’m not?” A giddy feeling blossomed in his chest when you yanked the ring off and threw it in a random direction, “That looked pretty expensive there, N/n.”
“I don’t care, all I want is you.” You smiled, “As long as I have that, nothing in the world could make me not drop everything just for you.” The black and grey version of his signature hoodie went unnoticed.
“Well, let’s get out of here then, yeah?”
No one was there to tell the two of you that you were both sleeping in different beds and in different realities.
“I want to believe you, I do.”
Quackity’s heart dropped when you brought out the promise ring you gave him- the one he gambled away.
“But you’ve changed, and not for the better, Alex.” Slipping your own matching ring off, you placed them into his palm with a goodbye kiss on the cheek.
“Y/n, please-“ His calloused hands gripped your face gently as he brought you into a desperate kiss. They dropped down to your waist, gripping tightly, when you kissed him back.
You pulled away too soon for anybody’s liking, but you knew that if you stayed, you would never be able to walk away. “Goodbye, Quackity.”
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Could I request a Bucky Barnes x reader smut? Basically she and Bucky have been together for some time and maybe it’d be a little angst where the two are talking about the future and Bucky not thinking he can ever have a normal future? Which would result in soft smut and later reader being revealed as pregnant so Bucky finally gets his family
Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary | based on the request ^^
Warnings | angst, smut, oral sex (m receiving), fluff, pregnancy, mentions of death
Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬
The Wilson’s boat rocked sturdily upon the water, swaying as the boats worked aboard. Your hand held the weight of a silver spanner, twirling it in your fist as though it were a knife, thinking of the long road ahead of you. Sam had the shield now, that was a good start, but still, there was a ways to go until the world recognised him as the captain that he was meant to be.
There was so much destruction ongoing in the world, what with the flag smashers, and whomever the power broker was, and surely, you knew on the shallow surface, that there would be masses more problems to arise. It was exhausting, to know that there was no end to the war on earth, and that you were surely going to be fighting the threats until you could no more.
Bucky felt the same; he had just gone from one war to another, losing everyone that he cared about along the way. Steve had given everything up to finally find peace, and yet, the two did not share the same opportunity. An escape was never laid at your feet, instead, the pair of you were trapped in the cycle of cruelty, being blended around in a shredder by reality.
“Hey.” A voice confiscated you from the lonesome containment of your thoughts; it was Sam’s hosting sister, Sarah. I’m her own way, though you doubted that she would never admit such a thing, she was a hero. She had become a widow, and not to mention she remained a stable mother to keep her boys afloat, as well as nurturing half the kids that lived within close proximity.
“Hi Sarah.” You put the tool down, giving her your ample attention as you stood, tugging your fingers into the loops of your jeans as you stepped out of the boat, and onto the dock. “Anything I can help with?” It hadn’t passed your attention that Sam and Bucky had disappeared, but not into ash like last time. Instead, they had walked off in the direction of the house, most likely meddling about with a ball, in the back yard with Jim and Jody.
“I just came to let you know I’ve made the sofa up for you and Bucky. Are you sure you’ll be all good, I could always kick Sam outta his bed and make him sleep on the living room floor?” The two of you had nightmares, if you were to be separated from him for even a night, it was certain that the pair of you would greatly suffer. That was something you didn’t want to burden any of the Wilson’s with, screaming in the middle of the night because flashes from your past struck an unconscious nerve.
“All good, and thank you Sarah. You didn’t have to let us stay here, we both appreciate it, a hell of a lot.” One thing that you had learnt throughout your years was to show gratitude. The smallest amount shared had the ability to spring up moods, and had even set you on a much more heroic path than the one that you had been originally been placed upon.
“You’ve earned your stay.” Sam’s sister shrugged with modesty, acknowledging the help that you and Bucky had not only given to Sam, but to her family’s legacy. The two of you had aided with fixing the old wreckage that had now returned to the form of a boat, keeping it afloat rather than permitting it to sink from the quarrels that Sam had with himself regarding fixing the damned yet meaningful port of transport.
“This life you have, it’s great. I get it’s not easy, but it’s beautiful. You have two wonderful kids, that you’ve done such a great job raising, and not to mention, these community that you have is so loving and kind, even to us outsiders.” The pair of you had paused outside of her front door, speaking. “Sam is lucky to have you, he truly is.”
“Well, maybe one day this life could be something similar to what you’ll have.” The sister of your friend smiled, though your mirroring expression retracted. In a stumble of thought, you shook your head, not believing that possibility. This all was... perfect. That was something that you had never had, nor would you think that you’d ever be permitted such a peaceful lifestyle.
“I don’t think that would work out.” You sincerely mumbled, feeling the sad swelling in your chest at the prospect of all the luxuries that life had denied both you and Bucky of. It wasn’t fair all the same, but the two of you were used to being denied human rights, let alone the simplicity of nothing more than a life together. “As nice as it sounds, me and Buck aren’t really cut out for all this I suppose.”
“The world does not choose who can and cannot have a family, there’s always a way. Just because you haven’t had the most ideal line of story does not at all mean that you can’t make it work, from as much as i know, you two deserve a life together, that doesn’t include being shot at, or shooting at other people. Sometimes, you’ve just gotta go for it, and hope for the best.” She gave you a final nod, before heading inside, and you trailed after her into her her residency.
The two of you went your separate ways, and there, you saw Bucky, sat up on the sofa, his hands clasped together as his eyes stared towards the tan bag, that concealed not the shape, but the Stars and Stripes of the infamous shield. It was much a relief that it was no longer in Walker’s toxic clutch, however its presence, among other things, were taking a clear toll on your boyfriend.
“You ever feel like we’re stuck?” The air was tense around you both as he spoke solemnly, it diverting to match the mood of his question. “Like we’re us, and I love us, but it makes me think that it’s it. Just me and you, on this path for the rest of our lives, never getting a compensated break, nor an average person’s future. I want this, what these people here have, not the combat that is aided by this metal arm, or the associations that stick to us like life lines.”
“All the time, it’s on my mind James.” With a sigh, you came to sit beside him on the couch, resting your head against his bionic shoulder. “I ever wonder if there’s a timeline of you and me where there’s none of this ruckus, we just have a nice little house in a quiet and accepting place, and maybe a kid or two in the future.”
“I’d give anything up for that.” He looked at you, almost wide eyed, as his hand slithered down onto your knee cap, rubbing small circles as he wore a blunt and endearing smile upon his infatuating lips. “I mean that Buck, that sounds...”
“Perfect?” He asked, leaning closer as he grabs your chin with his wondrous fingers, his nose brushing alongside your own as his puckered lips fell upon yours, earning a small hun of content from within you. “Because you’re perfect to me, and no matter what life we are encased in, I want to share it with you. I want stare at the night sky and watch the moonlight illuminate the side of your face, and the stars reflect in your entrapping eyes, that I want to look into like a medium’s orbs forever, because that is how I will see the future that I ever so hope for.”
“How long have you been working on that one Barnes, because you are usually not that smooth?” A small laugh erupted from your mouth, but you were quickly silenced as you felt a cold metal hand slither up and beneath the back of your tank top, rubbing along the seam of your spine, as his lips ran down the column of your throat, evoking small and delicate whimpers out of you.
“Shut up doll, because I really want to fuck you now, and those words leaving your mouth are making it kinda hard to concentrate.” A furrow imbedded between his brows, as you tilted your head at him, a smirk proclaiming your expression as you pulled the material over your head, and reached behind yourself to unclip the back of your bra.
“Kinda hard to concentrate, hun?” You asked nonchalantly as his gaze zeroed in on your bare breasts, his hands smoothing along your ribcage as he adjusted his grip of you so that he was palming at your breasts, and squeezing the nipples. “I want you in me baby, I’ve practically gone days without you inside of me.” Licking your lips, you reached down to palm your beloved through his layers, earning a positive groan from the former assassin.
“Hours, you mean. I fingered you on the road trip here.” Yes, that was true, however, it was only his fingers, not even the metal ones, and whilst you loved what they alone could do, he had to be discreet as you were sat on the back of the truck, which had carried the primary parts for the Wilson’s family boat. If you were to scream out, they’d have surely thought that you’d fallen off the back of the truck and pull over, or if they had much sense, they’d have noticed that there was more going on than two passengers sat side by side on the journey to their small neighbourhood by the docks,
“You heard me Barnes, otherwise I’m sure Sam wouldn’t have any problem if I came to his room in this state of undress that I am currently portraying.” Growling was never Bucky’s fortes, however the sound aggressively ripped through the tunnel of his throat, as he threw off his grey top, quickly unfastening his belt, as he awaited for you to strip the rest of your clothing before him.
But rather than doing so, as he stood before you, your hand had trouble resisting the sight of his cock that had bobbed to attention, and thus, you wrapped it around his toned flesh, giving it a couple jerks that had his head reeling back, before you tongued his tip, moaning to yourself at the taste of him invading your sensitive taste buds. “Love your cock.”
As soon as you said that, Bucky gently gathered your head in a ponytail so that it was free from bombarding your face, and groaned as quiet as he could as you sucked him in your mouth, running your tongue up the side of his shaft. “Is that a part of your dream world baby doll, the sight of my cock throbbing to be inching down that perfect little throat of yours?”
To answer him, you pressed your head down deeper, humming around him as your eyes ogled up at the sight of your super soldier, who was trying his hardest to keep his eyes open, and attuned to the sight of you. He held his bottom lip between his teeth, as you lightly gagged around him, pulling off him, and squeezing his balls, before running your hungry tongue along the middle of his sack.
“Always. It would be a dream if you made love to me right here and now though, I’m not sure I can wait any longer James.” Bucky took a long inhale, before ravishingly pulling down your jeans and panties in one go, and tossing you so that he was below your form, and you hovered over him, toying with his erect cock. “I love you so much Bucky, and I’m scared of what’s to come. I have a feeling that there’s gonna be a fight.”
“There’s always a fight doll face.” He rubbed his thumb soothingly across your jaw, pulling your hips down closer so that you were rubbing your slick folds against his standing cock. “But this is what we’re fighting for, the rest of our lives together. I’d be damned, one day after this, and if I were to die, I’d be a happy man. There’d be the memory of you to keep me forever happy in the afterlife, and not to mention, there’d be no more wars for me to participate in.”
“I’m not going to let you die Buck, even hypothetically. We saw how your little hypothetical synopsis went last time.” Tapping his cock against your clit, a breathy sound evicted from your lips, as you stared down at the two of you intimately touching, the sight alone making you more turned on and impatient. “No one is allowed to kill you, otherwise I’ll unleash hell on all their flag smashing asses.”
Giving him one last stroke, you guided his tip towards your entrance, removing your hand once you had him situated, so that you could rest it upon his sturdy shoulder, and sink down on him, the feeling of him stretching you being the most euphoric sensation that you had ever endured. Hushed moans ceased from the both of you, as Bucky’s hands gripped your ass cheeks, only adding to all of the pleasure that was erupting within you.
“Think your pussy is gonna kill me before anyone else does; your so tight.” His pitch had rose, as your fingertips danced along the left side of his handsome face, invisibly connecting the dots of his beauty marks. You allowed the pair of you to adjust for a simple moment, before you began to raise your hips, sliding up his super soldier rod, only to slide down it again.
The actions were repeated, as your own hands trailed down his warm skin, to drag down the golden lines of his vibranium arm, only to bring the weapon to your mouth, and kiss every black finger up, as you tried your best to muffle the moans that were hoping to reap free. “So fucking big, I love you and your cock.” You muttered, your sight turning blurry as Bucky realised that it was his turn to do the work, and thus, he thrusted up into you, making echoing sounds of your skin slapping together reverberate around the room.
“Love you more.” He gritted his teeth, pulling his metallic hand away from your numb lips, so that he could swirl the elegant digits around your clit, the action provoking whimpers to rapidly surpass your exterior, as you bit harshly onto your own lip, and screwed your eyes shut. “Cum for me doll, want you to cover my hard cock in everything you have. Come on baby, you can do it.”
Without much thought, as your mind was too scrambled to do so, you reached for Bucky’s spare hand, pulling it to your mouth as you sucked on his fingers as though you were blowing him. A low moan that was dialled down from the presence of his flesh digits, ran from your mouth, as you began to bounce your hips, chasing and eventually reaching your high. You came around him, pushing him too over the edge, his seed filling your walls, as you collapsed atop of him, huffing from exhaustion as you removed his salivated hand from the realms of your mouth, resting your head against his panting chest.
Stringed sighs fell from Bucky’s breath as he tried to catch his own breath. His hands rubbed your back, not only to comfort you, but also to subconsciously pull you closer against him, and his softening cock that was still inside you, and was keeping his cum plugged within your tender and pulsating walls. If life was easier, there’d be more time for this, and that, but for now, it was just every now and then. Maybe you’d win this fight and survive until the next one, but maybe, you’d lose and never battle again.
Life was precious, that was something that you had not only learned as an avenger, but also something that had been told to you by Isiah. That man thought that you deserved a normal life, no fighting, no super soldiers. He himself was the biggest yet silent critic of those with additional strength, but his opinion was never going to sway you, not as you stared out into Sarah’s backyard, and watched the man that you loved play with the boys.
They had the shield, and were whisking it through the air like a frisbee; dangerous, yes, but again, life could only amount to so much without an ounce of pain. A content and satisfied smile absorbed any pain on your face, you were enraptured with the sight of Bucky like this, he was like an uncle to these two kids. He was no captain America, that was for sure, but you didn’t want a man in Stars and Stripes, all you wanted was him to be at peace, and it was a fact unbeknownst to him, that you had made such an alternative to that.
“Still want all this?” Sarah emerged, a cheap yet formidable bottle of wine pursed in her hand, as she held two clear and tall glasses in her hand. You hummed, watching as she poured the thin red consistency into one glass, but as she went to fill the other, you held out your hand, shaking your head. The woman was confused, last time you had visited, and were entangled on her sofa with the limbs of your boyfriend and a shaggy old blanket, you had kindly accepted her offer.
“Sure do.” You sighed, staring out into the green abyss where Jim was hanging from Bucky’s arm like it were a branch. “How do you do this, this whole mother thing? I’ve never been able to wrap my head around how you make it look so easy, it’s just, you do such a good job.” Your palms rested flat on your thighs as you laughed at Sam ordering Jody to jump on Bucky’s back, as he fell down in faux defeat.
“It never is easy y/n.” She placed the open bottle down, along with the mismatched glasses, that were asymmetrical considering one was half filled and the other wallowed in emptiness. “But every step of difficulty is worth it. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss their father, but they’re my priority. For Jim and Jody, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, and you’d understand that if you ever opened yourself up to giving your life of heroism up to have all this.”
“I might have to.” Twiddling with your fingers, glancing up at your boyfriend, realising that he was in fact not looking over, you clasped your intwined hands over your stomach, smiling softly to yourself. “And maybe not having another option is the best option for me and Buck, because we don’t have to fight with ourselves over being included in our duties, we have new ones.”
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Sarah asked, resting her nurturing hand upon the tile of your shoulder, prompting you to turn your face towards her. There was a conflict in your eyes, it was something that she recognised her younger self having once worn. It was the idea of putting everything aside, all for a child, everything that she had ever known, so that she could put her baby boy first. “Does Bucky know?”
“He will.” You shifted your head down, unsure of yourself. This had been what you had wanted, and whilst you still envied Sarah for the role she had, you were hurt. A part of you wanted to be an avenger until you were nothing but a soul drifting in the abyss of non existence, another didn’t want to let the knowledge of being a carrier for a new future crumble you. “I just need a moment to tell him.”
“I’ve got it.” She sent you a wink, picking up the items she had brought out, before she called on Sam and the kids to come inside. Sarah had gifted you the opportunity of revealing the truth to your partner with no one else around; you appreciated that. As he stalked closer, you met him halfway, sinking into his arms as he hugged you.
“Looked like you were having fun with the boys.” You verbally noted, loving the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair. “You’re amazing Bucky Barnes, to me and to everyone. I just, don’t want you to freak out on me, I have something big, really big, to tell you, and-“
“Baby, I know.” He smiled, pulling back so that he could look you in the face. “I have super human senses, I heard their little heart beat for the first time yesterday. We’re having a baby, and I couldn’t be happier about it. In fact, I want to ask you if you’ll accept my question of making Sam the godfather.” You nodded, tears standing in your eyes, as you brought the man down for a kiss.
“Yes. But I’m not sure that he’ll be praising us for making a baby when we technically created him or her on the couch inside.” Bucky shook his head at you, kissing your forehead before walking inside with you, preparing to tell the Wilson family, that had along the way became your own, the good news- well, not the sofa bit.
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thinkin’ bout you
in which harry owns a flower shop and has a major crush on a girl who comes in to buy flowers every once in a while (and he’s too shy to ask for her number)
word count: 17.3k
paring: florist!h and y/n
warnings: just some pinning and lustful yearning. m for mature...
author’s note: i’ve been working on this forever. not to pick fav’s but i think florist!h comes second to sl23... hes just so.......well, you’ll see!!
* * * * * *
When Harry was given the option to go on a playdate with his car-loving and dirty-nailed schoolmates or spending the weekend at his nan’s house, he would often pick the latter.
He preferred to spend his afternoons frolicking with her Siamese kitty in her wild-flower filled garden, sunbathing in the open grass, or napping on a quilted blanket under the large, round oak tree, with the kitty nestled into his tummy, keeping him warm. When he woke in the arms of his nan as she carried him inside the house for a glass of cool lemonade, he bore a band of pink sunburn over his button nose, and the blue and white striped Mickey shirt was sticking to the areas where his furry friend had provided an extra heat.
So, it was safe to say that from the start, Harry’s tastes weren’t what could be considered ‘average’ or ‘normal’ or ‘straight’ for a heterosexual male of his age in current society.
Not that he ever valued those opinions, but their impressions rang in the back of his loving head when the women who he brought to the comfort of his home made hurtful ‘joking’ comments on how ‘peculiar’ his choice of decor was or giving him prolonged strange looks before shaking their heads and yanking their clothes off so that they landed in a forgotten heap in some unimportant corner of his room.
Granted, he still got a good shag, but it wasn’t enough to fulfill his desires regarding any actions associated with relationships. He wanted someone warm and soft and kind. Someone who wouldn’t judge his home, his music choices, his clothing, or anything else about him. A girlfriend, not a fuck.
Long ago, he’d stopped caring about what others said about him. Adopting this mindset had given him some of the happiest and healthiest moments of his life (albeit occasionally, doubts merged with the ghastly shadows of his loneliness). Business at his flower shop increased as his charm increased with positivity, and a new life within him bloomed like a baby rose bud when he accepted that being single was okay. The ribbons of his bouquets bouncing with an added umf and the mist that landed on his skin when he changed the water in the flower buckets only enhanced the golden hue of his skin.
Harry even took to renovating his home a bit.
Coincidentally, his apartment was located on the floor above his flower stop, and contained a significant amount of singular flowers in vases or bouquets in empty corners to prove it. An array of pastel colors smeared on the once blank walls. Bambi pink in his bedroom, sage green in his kitchen, and a French blue in his living room. The couch was a suede papaya three-seater with black and white checkered pillows, and the coffee table was an emerald-tiled piece standing on top of a geometric lavender carpet, a soft contrast against the dark oak of his floorboards. Harry’s taste in pop-culture, art, and literature was displayed on the frames hanging off his walls. Pictures and posters of his favorite pieces like Matisse’s Blue Nudes and Goldfish and The Dance II. An enhanced, enlarged photo of maraschino cherries and a raven haired pin-up girl. Another glass table by the end of the couch held a silver candlestick and a small statue.
Sometimes, the miniature Greek statue he bought at a thrift store of a man with his nakedness pure and unobscured to the viewers' eyes made his dick bloat against the seams of his pants. If he stared at it for too long, his eyes drawn to the softened cock between thighs that looked so flesh-like even though it was carved out of some clay or ceramic material, his mind would travel to sensual, honey-red places that he hadn’t been in so long. Harry’s imagination explored- as cheesy as it sounds- the sexual aspects of the male genitalia, and therefore his own sexual expeditions and how much he missed giving or receiving a good fuck. More often than not, he ended up with himself in his fist, forehead sparkling with perspiration under the candle lights in his room as his thighs and abdomen clenched with every buck of his yearning hips.
The doorknob of his room was in the shape of an eye, the iris colored a brilliant blue. His king bed- no, frame, just a minimalist white base, pushed up against the wall with two tables on either side, both of them loaded articulately with vintage trinkets and ceramic ring trays shaped like seashells to hold his jewelry. His bedsheets were a stylish combination of pastel colors; lilac comforter, mint and sky pillows. Previously, they had been snow white sheets with strawberry print, but a woman he brought over said they looked like the sheets her five-year-old niece had.
He changed them the week after that.
On the windowsill, a pot in the shape of a white, blue-eyed kitty with vines of string of hearts kissing the floor. A mirror in the shape of a heart with a pink trim besides the lightswitch, above his brown dresser. In the corner, a bookshelf stuffed with books that spilled over the seams, and perpendicular to it, the home of his pet chameleon, Owen (he wanted a cat, but when he went to the pet store and saw the dehydrated creature, he couldn’t leave him there). A 16 x 16 x 30 inch tank filled with a branch that cut across halfway. It was full of all the things he might need, maybe even too much of it, but it didn’t matter because when Harry was home Owen spent most of his time hanging off the collars of his shirts or snuggled in the ruffles of his hooded sweatshirt on his shoulder. The small, color changing friend adored his owner, and only morphed into a mild red color when Harry didn’t feed him more mango.
The renovations occurred in his bathroom; a cherry-red covering the walls because it looked boring before (at least in his opinion). The gold piping of the sink accentuated nicely with the darker color, and the sun seemed brighter when it streamed in through the window above his ceramic claw-footed tub. Owen particularly liked the misty showerhead stall in the corner, and as long as he kept his eyes to himself, Harry didn’t mind it if his green friend wrapped around the showerhead and enjoyed the mimicked tropical atmosphere.
For awhile now, it had been just him and his chameleon (and maybe his mum’s cat if she was going out of town and needed a sitter) but he didn’t mind it.
He got to meet new people everyday within the parameters of H’s Garden, and they all tended to overshare when it came to buying a bouquet. ‘My wife just had our son, want to see a picture?’ or ‘my boyfriend and I have our anniversary on Saturday’ and even ‘my sister had plastic surgery so me and my dad need something that says ‘congrats you look like Kim Kardashain now’ how ‘bout it?’
Stories ranged from sweet, to grotesque, to sad, to funny, and sometimes even evil- Harry didn’t like customers that gave flowers as a ‘fuck you’. He thought it was a waste of beauty and sacrifice. Flowers were living things that had their lives cut short in order to provide momentary satisfaction and life long memories to the receiver, not bitter feelings of revenge. Although it was still business, it pained him that such a pretty arrangement be misused. It was one of the cons of his work. He created what he considered to be masterpieces, and had no control over where they would end up, whether it be as a centerpiece for a candlelit dinner, or in the trash after the apology for a strong argument hadn’t been enough.
However, Harry couldn’t deny that he didn’t love his job, because he did.
When he turned 16, he’d determined that he wanted a peaceful life with a job that wouldn’t bore him. He wanted to be as stress free as possible, with his spirituality as a prominent highlight in his lifestyle. When he turned 18, he had determined that he wanted to be a florist, and began to save up to open his own shop with the occasional help of his friends and sister. He refused to take anything from his mother because he wanted to be the one giving her gifts and money and everything good after all of her sacrifices in raising him. Call him a momma’s boy. Harry loved his mother.
Online seminars and college classes became his best friend, teaching him everything he needed to know about accounting, stocks, and how to keep his business going. He was a businessman first, florist second. During the slow seasons (the start of winter and an awkward half-week between summer and spring) he relied on his investments to triple-ensure that he had enough money to stay afloat.
On his 22nd birthday, as a gift to himself, he signed the lease to the building that housed all of the pretty plants in temporary buckets full of flower food and water, and hired a graphic designer to design the cursive, golden letters that spelled out the name of his shop above the front door.
Now, three years later, he lived as happy as can be.
And he wasn’t lonely anymore.
Well, if you wanted to be technical, his relationship status was still a checkmark over the box labeled ‘single’, but his heart couldn’t be fluttering any harder at the sight of one of his regular customers, and she was there, creeping around in his brain to keep him company.
She was the complete opposite of every girl he’d ever been with. She was sweet, kind, funny, and didn’t judge him for the way he dressed, or his profession. In fact, they bonded over things that previous women had… slyly berated him for. The color of his nails, the lace of his collar, the pattern of his flared pants, and even the sheep on his baby blue sweater vest.
She stole his heart the moment she walked through his door with a soft smile on her face, a sparkling gleam in her warm eyes, and placed it in her pocket the moment she said, “it smells lovely in here!”
Harry, awestruck and blushing because well, she was pretty and wore a shade of purple that somehow made her hair look so soft. Two strands of hair were pinned at the back of her head, essentially keeping the rest of it away from her face save for the few baby wisps that rested gently against her cheeks like a lover’s caress. The stuttering, stumbling cupid’s-bow-struck fool replied with, “thank you. It would be my pleasure to help you with anything you’d like,” and that had been his name, signed on the dotted line of a soul contract. Only she was not the devil. She was an angel.
But even then, it wouldn’t matter. If she was the devil, if she was an angel, something in between or something new entirely he wouldn’t care because he was half gone for her already.
“In that case,” she smiled, and Harry’s heart sang a melody it never had before. It was like the sun beamed from the spaces between her teeth and tickled the fuzzy spot beneath his earlobe. She had the most amazing voice, tranquil and clear and ethereal. “I just moved into a new apartment and wanted the place to feel like home. I thought maybe flowers would give it a little life.”
He vividly remembers that the color of her cheeks changed to that of what is called a ‘blush’, but he didn’t know if it was a trick under the light, or a product of his wistful imagination. Her fingers gently skimmed the petals of a rose from it’s bucket near her hip, and one of the straps of the tote bag on her shoulder disrespectfully dropped away from her shoulder. He wanted to simultaneously rush over and fix it for her, and yell at the inanimate object for not being grateful of the fact that it had the opportunity to cling to her shoulder.
But, before either of these inner-conflicts met a sound resolve, her delicate fingers righted what was once wrong, and Harry cleared his throat, embarrassed because he’d stared for a little too long. He wanted so badly to ask for her name and how she liked her eggs in the morning, but instead he said, “there’s nothing like a bit of something pretty to brighten your day. Did you have something specific in mind?”
He hoped that the meaning of his words wasn’t caught on her, or that would be totally embarrassing and ‘loser’-like.
When she walked out the door with a content smile on her lips, his own heart was beating faster than the flapping of a hummingbird’s tender wings. He was sure that he had never laid eyes on a pair of lips like hers, neither the feeling that blossomed in his chest at the thought that she might be smiling just for him to see and enjoy.
Of course, it was a silly crush. One that clawed and gripped onto his sweaty palms with no sign of letting go. Maybe, Harry thought, it was because he hadn’t wet his wick in so long, and the interaction he’d had with her had sparked irrational, poem-inspiring feelings within the love cavern of his ribs. Because how could he fall head over heels with someone he didn’t even know? Surely, the swarm of hormone-pumped butterflies in his stomach was the beginning of a dead-end infatuation.
Harry went that entire day, appalled at the apparent angel he had the fortune of being in the presence of in her short fall from the tender heavens. He wondered where she placed the flowers she bought (an arrangement he was particularly proud of, full of lilac, delicate stems of lavender, and puffs of baby’s breath wrapped with a white bow) and where that tiny extension of him was. At the entrance of her home, right below the place she rested her hand against as she tugged her shoes off? At the center of her table? Maybe besides her bed? Where she would see the purple petals and white of him as he wrapped it every time she woke up or went to bed? He hoped- as much as it was a romantic thought- that it wasn’t the last one. He’s been so awkward, so pink. A blush on his cheeks he hadn’t remembered being there since the time he yelped, startled, at the unexpected pain of a tattoo needle, the artist pointedly peeved. Acting like such a boy.
Right before crawling up the steps of his apartment, heart still bleeding with love-blood from the deadly tip of Cupid’s arrows, he made himself a mini version of the bouquet he’d made her, and placed it at the center of his tiled coffee table.
A few days trickled by, and the memory of her face drifted in and out of his mind like a giant sway of fabric slowly billowing in the wind. He was just so… struck by a slab of awe, stunned by her kind of beauty. Natural, the kind that hooks you in it’s purity, like the golden beams streaming in through transparent curtains on a warm spring afternoon.
Her strawberry lips curved elegantly under her nose, and displayed a smile that leaked some sort of heady drug into the air because the air was sweet when he breathed it in. And when he handed the bundle of flowers over to her, the pads of her delicate fingers skimmed the rough ridges of his knuckles. He wondered immediately what kind of moisturizer she used, and if it smelled like honey or lavender or peaches. She smelled sweet. Sweeter than all of the flowers in his colorful soul shop put together. The colors that belong to her, on her person and worn by her, were more captivating than any of the tones that painted the petals on his plants.
Owen got a kick out of this whole ordeal, though. Harry’s passionate mood had him divulging in munching and nibbling on things that tasted the way he felt; ambrosial, fresh and pure. It resulted in the purchasing of endless amounts of fruit, with many bites given to the tiny chameleon. Mangoes, strawberries, oranges, grapes, pears (Asian pears, if the store carried them, they were Harry’s favorite), peaches and guavas. The sudden craving for fruit might be explained as just a casual craving, but deep deep down inside, Harry knew that it was because he wanted to replicate the feeling that coursed through his golden veins when she giggled at something she happened to find funny.
He wished that he had caught her name. The girl had paid in cash (and left a five dollar tip Harry fawned over), so he couldn’t have read it on her card, and he was halfway between charming and awkward that he didn’t even think of asking for it until the minute the door closed behind her, bells tinkling in announcement of her exit. He wished for a hundred different things, but he was not the type to live in regret. Not anymore. So after about a week of floundering in her memory, he meditated for an hour, tropical incense on one of his bedside tables, and cleared his mind as best he could.
The next morning, he did the same thing. Woke up with heavy limbs, plopped himself down on his blue mat and stretched in various positions, his white boxers hanging low on his hips. His lips and eyes were sticky with sleep, and the back of his nose ached with cold air that he must’ve breathed in throughout the night after forgetting to close the window (again) but the pleasurable twinge of stretching aches between his joints were the perfect way to start his day. They urged his mind to transform into the still surface of water, clear and collected from any unproductive-pinning thoughts towards a girl he would most likely never see again.
Even his clothes reflected his refreshed mindset.
Harry donned his favorite pair of flared trousers in an earthy brown color, nestled snugly on his slender hips and around his thighs. The tight fit accentuated the way his back tapered into his waist, glutes shapely and sculpted. A maroon sweater vest that had a teddy bear embroidered on the middle of his chest, the small latte-toned stuffed animal seemingly childish, but on him it only directed attention to the spotlight daze of the velvety heart sheltered underneath his breathless plate. Underneath, a mustard long-sleeve shirt with tiny cherries printed on them. Some straight, some tilted or lopsided. His shoulders and biceps were hidden in the floofy bunches of cloth, anonymity given to the true thickness of his ink slathered skin.
He looked like a corduroy dream. A thick milkshake of patterns and colors, but he managed to pull it off.
A tiny gold hoop on his right ear gleamed under the morning sun coming in through the windows and a pearl necklace rested against the downy skin of his throat. Slender fingered tipped with a coat of pure white, with his ring fingers accented in a shimmery pink. Chunky rings adorning the base of his digits; a silver rose, a band of dancing teddy bears (a running theme with him), two gold rings with his initials H and S on one hand, and a simple ruby stud from his graduating class.
He looked good, he knew that he looked good, and was ready to begin a bright, healthy, non-pretty-girl-thought-polluted day. Even the old woman had pinched his cheek whom he had been assisting- a regular-had said he looked like a proper ‘nice boy’ along with ‘when are you going to her a lovely girl to help you run this place, Harry?’. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he had momentarily sworn off women until his broken sentiments healed, and they had a long way to go.
In the middle of wrapping a smashing set of tulips and fern stems with a cherry red bow, the bells adorning the top of the door frame dinges, announcing the entrance of another pleasant customer and giving passage to a gust of chilly air. Harry looked up to greet the customer with his usual pleasantries of ‘welcome! I’ll be with you in a moment!’, but the words died on his throat in a desperate hussle, just as the little mermaid had given up her voice to meet her gallant prince.
It was his own personal little slice of heaven presented to him on the black and white checkered floors of his shop. Hair loose against her shoulders again, eyes cast downwards to inspect a bucket of fresh daisies that tickled the space above her bare knees. How she could wear a skirt in this biting weather, he didn’t know, and it partially prevented him from continuing his pursuit of admiring her because the first thought his caring mind jumped too was, ‘is she cold? And if so, does she need a sweater? Because I will gladly give her one.’ His second thought, however, was ‘how could someone be that beautiful?’. The third was something along the lines of ‘all my yoga has gone to shit, and I’m okay with that’.
He cleared his throat, tightened the bow around the stems of the flowers in his hands and said, “I’ll be with you in a moment, love!” His head bowed, looking at his work because he wasn’t sure he could afford the medicals for the paralysis that was sure to take over his meek self if they made eye contact so soon. Harry needed a moment of homeostasis, his soul adjusting to her dulcet presence.
The woman he was assisting, Edna, spoke, drawing him out of his daze, but he had been so deeply in thought that he had not heard what she said.
“What was that?” He asked her. He grabbed Kraft paper from the roll by the register to wrap up her arrangement.
“The girl. You like her?” She was smiling at him, wagging a finger the way his nan used to do when she caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. “Don’t lie to me, I recognize that look. I’ve given and received that look many times throughout my life.”
The woman was not wrong. With age, comes wisdom, Harry thought, smiling to himself at being caught. A dimple carves itself into his cheek, nestling onto the space above the corner of his mouth as if he had no choice in the matter. The apples of his cheeks were shadowed with a dusky pink, and the tip of his nose was twitching like a rabbit when it stood on its rear and sniffed the air, only he was coy after just being caught and wanted to avoid the question as much as possible.
“I’ve got no idea what y’talking about,” he chuckled, keeping his voice low so that the intriguing stranger in the store didn’t hear that their topic of discussion was her. He moved over to the register to ring her up, and even slid in a discount he applied to customers he liked.
“Next time I come in,” Edna said, passing Harry her debit card, “I hope to hear that you got her number, dear. Don’t let these opportunities pass you up. Life is short. And who knows? She could be the one.” Harry gave her the card back after charging her, and handed her the flowers, too. All the while Edna was grinning at him, shaking her head like she knew something he didn’t.
“Take care, Edna. And don’t forget to change the water every 2 days with the flower packets I placed at the stems,” he reminded her, sweetly wiggling his red-lacquered nails at her retreating woman as butterflies awakened in his stomach in a furious flood of nerves. The girl was looking around, her hands hovering over the up-turned faces of a bundle of lively sunflowers, browsing and quietly humming to herself as she waited.
There was no backing out of this, even if he wanted to. And he didn’t! He didn’t want to back out. The girl was a customer, and he would have to approach her no matter what. But she was so pretty it was also intimidating. He doesn’t remember ever being this nervous while approaching someone, especially one he harbored feelings for. His heart was pounding so loud, he was sure it was audible.
“Hello,” he wanted so badly to add ‘love’ at the end of his greeting. “Are y’finding everything a’right?” He asked her, his hands wringing themselves, palms moist with sweat from his unyielding need to impress her. The pink tip of his tongue poked out to swipe across his full bottom lip, and soon after that his teeth sunk down into it, nibbling with uncertainty. Harry made sure that he was standing straight, body aligned to face hers because in that psychology course he took once, he learned that it was a subconscious tactic to engage interest and pleasant replies to attempts at wooing another.
At the sound of his voice, the girl jumped, startled at the sudden vibrations of Harry’s husky voice. Her delicate feet, he noticed, skittered on the floor from her tiny jump, and her doe eyes widened, shouldered rising and falling at a quicker pace than before from the new rush of light fear. When she realizes that it’s just him her hand flattered over the base of her neck and her collarbone in attempts to soothe her racing heart.
“M’s sorry,” he whispers, his hand clamping over his mouth, and then lowering to his chin when he speaks again, “didn’t mean to scare y’love.” This time he can’t restrict himself. It comes so naturally, like the endearment was meant for her, and when a flush covers the bridge of her nose his first instinct is to coo at her for looking so cute. The second is a surge of guilt for having scared her to such an extent.
“It’s okay,” she says, a little out of breath. The blush on her face was partly because she was embarrassed at her own reaction, while the other was that she had let herself act so freely and uncoordinated in front of someone that looked like him. Handsome and sweet and eyes so green they refreshed you upon first glance. Like the cool burn of water going into a mouth that had just chewed a stick of minty gum. “I want to buy these flowers.”
God help him. Her voice alone was enough to make him melt. The lilts and melodies of her voice swarming all four of the ventricles in his heart with warmth, and every blood cell that passed contained a glowing heat, buzzing with her energy.
She points to the sunflowers, her gaze lingering on them with longing. A soft smile toying on her mouth, and Harry could see the tendons in her throat stretch as she inhaled to add another thought to her sentence, “Do you sell vases by any chance?” The girl looked at him shyly, her eyelashes almost twinkling as she blinked, and his heart soared, “I had a really nice one in the shape of a big Coca-Cola bottle, and I accidentally knocked it over, so now I have nothing to put them in.”
Harry is incredibly enamoured by subconscious gestures that take over her hands as she speaks, fiddling as if the vase she spoke about was in her hands, all in one piece before it was broken. He’s quiet throughout her tiny ramble, listening and taking note of her enticing antics. She’s looking down at the floor or the flowers or her hands, and when her eyes dance over to his steady gaze, “I’m rambling aren’t I?” she murmurs bashfully.
“No, no it’s a’right. I can look in the back for something if y’like?” He suggested, arrowing a thumb to the ‘back’ he mentioned. “Did y’want anything in particular?”
“Oh, I don’t wanna be a troubling customer!” She squeaked, concerned with becoming a nuisance she didn’t want to be.
“Y’not a bother, love. M’promise. I’ll go look f’you. What color did y’have in mind?” He asked her, tone calm and soothing to reiterate his sentiment. She was not a bother. The only thing about her that bothered him was the fact that he did not know her name, and even that was his own fault for not asking her.
His hands rest on his hips, tattooed cross momentarily hidden by the bunch of his sweater vest as he waits for her to respond, his eyes locked on her mouth, her own tongue subtly licks her lips, adding a sparkly sheen to it that only drove him crazy. Ever the jilted fool, his mind jumps to what it would feel like to kiss her, or what it would feel like if she kissed him in other places. What fruits she tasted like, and what kind of kisser she was. A timid one? With a patient mouth waiting to be broken open with the force of his own? Frugal? Opening her mouth and giving him everything she had to offer.
“Something pink, please. If you have it.” That smile again. One that told a million apologies it didn’t owe, with her eyes pinching at the corners with whatever nonsense culpability she felt. Her voice was sweet, Harry thought, like wind chimes on a summer morning.
Feeling guilty for allowing such dirty thoughts to gallop through his mind when she was so… so pure. Like an angel. Even her way of presenting herself was shy and sweet, yet he was thinking about kissing her. Was that perverted? She was a customer he had seen twice, and his mind was already running wild with luscious assumptions; a sunday topped with a red cherry of sensuality. How awfully dirty of him.
But! But those were not the only thoughts he had. He wanted to ask her what happened to cause her to drop her vase, and where she had bought it. If it was vintage, considering it was a Coca-cola bottle, and if she had any accidents while cleaning up the mess of broken glass. He wanted to hear her thoughts. No, better yet, he just wanted to hear her talk. He wanted to get to know her. To know if she was as nice as she looked.
“‘Course,” he mumbled, his eyes shamefully downcast to the floor. “Be righ’ back.”
Harry stalked off to ‘the back of the store’. Truth was, there was no back of the store containing vases. There was only a small closet with boxes of items he might need around the store, like flower food, rubber bands, and decorative paper for the bouquets. A crate of bottled water for when he got too lazy to climb up the back stairs and into his home.
Plucking the keys from his pocket, a ring that held a ceramic swan his closest friend Mitch had gifted him with a humble admission of ‘saw this at a thrift store and thought about you, H, I had to buy it’, and five keys: one to the front door of his shop, one to the cash box in the register, one to the mailbox, another to the front door of his apartment, and one to his car. The one to his front door was painted at the head with pastel pink nail polish, so it was easy for him to pick out when he was dead tired after a long day of being on his feet (spunky shoes that he liked to wear sometimes didn’t help ease the ache on his back, and neither did his posture).
The back door that led to the stairs had locks on both the inside and the outside. A deadbolt and chain on matching sides of the door to ensure comfortable sleep at night, and peaceful work time during the day. Not having to worry about curious children opening doors or nosy customers relieved him. It was a little amatuer, but the door made a loud noise when opened because it wasn’t quite level, and he had a tiny key so he could lock it from the outside, too.
A loud shucking noise resonated through the store as he pulled the door open, and then again when he closed it behind him. The delicacy of his dainty yet large hands were nearly comical around the tiny golden pin stud that hung from the chain, almost slipping from his hands with nerves as he slid it in place. Harry didn’t think that she was nosy or anything like that, bit if he was going up to give her a vase of his own personal collection, he didn’t want her to find out and feel even more intrusive that she already did.
He was a huge giver, and upon hearing her say that she broke her flower pot, his mind was already thinking about the perfect one to replace it. It just so happened to be sitting on his shelf with a bundle of dying lavender. Climbing up the stairs (the ache in his thighs was a mere twinge compared to what it was when he first moved here), Harry huffed and thought to himself all the ways he could ask for her name and number.
Listen, I really like y’and would like to have y’number?”
Do y’wanna have my number so we can go out sometime if y’feel like it?”
“Is it alright if I get y’number so we can go out sometime?”
“Hey, love. What’s y’name?”
Nothing’s making sense to him. The pick up lines he had stored in his head for the rare times he would flirt with a girl were slipping from him. None of them seemed worded right to use with her. Too abrupt or too brisk. Not sweet enough. He wanted to treat her gently and to be worthwhile of her time. Plus, it also had to be smooth enough that it made her forget she was paying him for flowers or it would be awkward. He was a twenty-six man for crying out loud, not a twenty-one year old smile at the bar looking for a good time. This wasn’t a ‘good time’. This was… a courting. An inquiry to a relationship. A rose rose in a candlelit room.
Harry opened his front door and moved in a quick jog to a table besides his hi-fi that held a translucent pale pink glass, fat at the base before twirling and widening a few inches at the lip. An image of a nude mermaid puffing out at the front like an engraving. Cuddling it into his breast, he grabbed the lavender, speed walked back to his kitchen where his toe banged against the metal of the trashcan as he pressed on the lever to open it. He hissed fuck under his breath and shucked the dead lavender into the bag before turning back to his door, closing it behind him, but not locking it because he didn’t want to keep her waiting. His feet moved quickly down the stairs, the one hand not holding onto the vase cupping a hand over the side of his hips that held his keys so they didn’t make much noise.
The button on the chain slipped from his fingers a few times from their repeated clamminess, and when he was ready to finally twist the knob, he paused to take a breath and collect himself. Harry ran a hand through his hair, fixed his collar, and dusted off his pants legs. He wanted to look perfect for her.
“Don’t be stupid,” he murmured to himself. He had a good feeling about this. About her. And if he messed this up because he looked bad or said something weird he would kick himself into a muddy ditch.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and calmly walked back, “I’ve got the last one,” he said, tapping the tip of the vase with his pointer finger. It was a lie, right through his teeth, but he was happy to tell it in return for the way she was looking at him in that moment. His eyes rounded out as he approached her, like the curves of hearts that made up the heart-eye emoji, or the puppy-dog face. Just another physical display of his growing affinity towards her.
“Oh my god!” She said, “It's so pretty!” The trapped crystals in her irises twinkled with bewilderment at the treasure Harry’s presented her with. She’s got a smile on her face, and he can’t help but think, ‘wow, she looks like a freshly bloomed white lily’.
There’s a vintage print hanging in his corridor, a ‘flower language chart’ with different types of flowers and a sentence beneath them describing the messages they send. For example, red carnations= my heart aches for you. The description beneath white lilies reads ‘my love is pure’.
She asked him if it wasn’t too pricey, and he made up some fake sale he had going on about a hybrid BOGO in which if she bought an arrangement she would get a vase included in her purchase (he added “I’ve got a shipment of new ones coming in an I need the space cleared out before they get here” just to make sure his fib is believable.) And he explains this so shyly. Harry can’t keep his eyes locked on hers because she’s staring at him with an intensity that lets him know she's really listening, and it makes him squirm. The tips of his fingers tap against the vase, and he’s tripping over his tongue, which is ridiculous because he already talks so slow.
“I guess I was right in waiting then,” she said casually, waiting for Harry to finish ringing her up.
His finger froze over the touch screen of the sleek, modern device (he wanted nothing but the best for his store) and listened to the exciting roar of blood through his eardrums at her words. I guess I was right in waiting then? What did that mean? That she was planning on coming back to see him and didn’t? Of course, it could also mean that she was going to buy something else somewhere else, but he couldn’t stop the vine of ripe hope that swelled around his chest. And she looked so apprehensive while saying it. As if she was walking on glass and was looking for cracks as she stepped. As if she was waiting on him to catch on to something.
Harry cleared his throat and looked at her through the corner of his eye, trying to be as discreet as possible as his fingers continued their deliberate work on the screen, “What d’you mean, love?”
“I was going to stop by sooner, but I just got in my head about it,” the girl shrugged, and adjusted the ends of her cardigan so they wrapped around her torso. She had a different bag this time, one of those reusable market bags that was made up of holes, and it was filled with two books and a can of green tea from the vegan store down the street. Harry thinks he can make out one of the titles on one of the spines, which looks suspiciously similar to something that he has on his own shelf.
“Why would y’get in y’own head about coming to m’flower shop, hmm? It’s hardly that intimidating,” he chuckles to play off the dashes of pink and red that are painting themselves across the bridge of his twitching nose, “I don’t bite, either.”
And he hopes that his wistfulness isn’t meddling with his vision because he swears that he can see a matching reaction on her own doll face. “I know! I know, it’s just that I can’t help it sometimes. Talking to other people makes me nervous.”
Harry could coo at her right now. He doesn’t, though. He nods and smiles at her before reading her total out to her, “That I get, too. But y’doing just fine with me, love.”
Waiting patiently as she digs through her bag for cash, he tries to not stare. However, it’s impossible. His eyes had a mind of their own dragging against the forces of his will to feast on her image again. Her hands and the tip of her nose. The base of her neck and gentle swell of her clavicles. The swoops of hair that hung in a curtain from her shoulder as her head tilted in search, and the how her teeth bit down into her lip in concentration. Harry counted the amount of times her eyelashes met her waterline in those few seconds of comfortable silence. Three.
“I thought I had cash on me today,” something in her bag clicks, and she pulls out the rectangular card Harry’s become familiar with, holding it out to him between two deft fingers, painted with red hearts on a white base. “I guess I used my last twenty at the organic food store down the street,” she said.
“It is pretty easy to get lost in there, isn’t it?” He took her card from her, and tried not to make it obvious that he was eager to read her name off of it as he inserted it into the machine. The embossed letters into the plastic read y/n y/l/n, and when he turns back to look at her, he can’t help the smile that spreads across his boyish features.
Y/n, y/n, y/n.
This is what it must feel to be let in on a secret that’s worth millions of dollars. It must, because Harry’s heart is soaring with a closure he didn’t know he needed. Y/n, y/n. Her name tickled him. Stroked him. Lathered him with the honey smoothness of the beeswax shampoo he bought at that fateful organic store. It was a fitting name. Sometimes, one could tell a person ‘you know, I actually thought you were a Amy or a Jessica’, because their looks and style just didn’t match the strength or modesty of their name. But not y/n. It fit her like a glove. There was no other way to make sense of the way Harry’s brain was thinking. The name was her.
“What?” Her lips quirk up into a smile and her eyebrows dip in confusion. Why was he looking at her like that? Did she have something on her face? Here she was, opening up to a cute stranger and she had something on her face? This, she thought to herself, is humiliating. Her finger dusted off non-existent crumbs from the corners of her mouth, “do I have something on my face?”
“No! No, no.” Harry’s careful beam simmered down from it’s previous brightness, and his hand nervously filed through the swoop of chocolate curls sitting on his head like a cinnamon roll. “I just think y’name is pretty thas’ all.”
He murmured the last part so that it was practically incoherent, and lowered his gaze as a searing heat stretching like saran wrap around his head and the divot on the nape of his neck. Oh, God. He was fucking blushing. Great Harry. A normally favorite among the ladies had been reduced to murmurs and thick, uncoordinated movements.
Like dropping her card when she piped up again.
Voice as small and quaint as his had been, "you think my name is pretty?” Her fingers are wrapped around the frail straps of her bag, tight enough that her knuckles were white and Harry was scared that she’d bury her fingernails into her palm.
“I think y’very pretty.” He whispered back. He can’t even bear to look at her in fear that he’s totally fucked himself over once and for all. His logic was this: what girl wants to be told by the guy they’re buying flowers that they’re pretty after he reads her name from her debit card? Especially one who (if outside female sources are to be believed) dresses “the way my mother did when she was a girl in the seventies”? Jesus, fuck. He must’ve looked ridiculous.
Harry opened his mouth to backtrack and apologize for being so unorthodox in his workspace, a breath sitting on his tongue with words ready to spew out, but the bell began to chime and it yanks his head from the register to the front and instead he said, “welcome! I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Flustered and full of regret, the flower connoisseur returned his wired gaze back to y/n, who… was smiling at him? The kind of smile that said ‘oh my god, I can’t believe you just said that. Now please say it again’? Was he… dreaming? Did he have to pinch himself in order to verify that he wasn-
“Thank you... what’s your name?” Y/n looked at the card from his hands and sunk her hand- carefully, as to not get her fingers stuck in any of the tiny holes- and there was another clicking noise before she took her hand back out. That angel-like smear of girlish happiness was still on her, decadently radiating positivity and secret affection. Goodness leaked from the seams of her bones; through the cracks of her breastplate, radiating from her chest to Harry’s. He could feel it now. He could feel that his previous assumptions about her nature were true. She was altruistic and tender, like the inside of a bird’s wing.
“Harry. M’name’s Harry.” This time, he didn’t hide his happiness. Even his eyes shone with a heightened, clear and sparkly shade of liquid evergreen. The joy that bounced inside of him like ricocheting metal balls in a pin game machine. His slender hand, fawn-skinned and graceful like the legs of a deer, stretched out between them. His mother had taught him that along with the first introduction of his name, a handshake must be present, always. Dipping his head slightly, and his words spongy with love-ditz, Harry rumbled, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”
She placed her hand in his, and was practically swallowed by only his palm. He curled his fingers around her, thumb and middle finger overlapping around the clammy center of hers. So she was nervous, just as he was. Y/n was trained on their embracing limbs, and he could feel a spot on his neck where the skin palpated from the rush of blood as she observed their entwined digits. Their hands moved up and down, up and down between them for longer than necessary until her chin twitched back up to meet his, and she blinked mawkishly, slowly, like the videos of rehabilitated barn owls Harry sees on his Instagram.
Then, suddenly, as if she remembered she was not the only one present, y/n jolts upright and shakes her head dazedly. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Harry. I like your nail color,” she added.
He’s cheesing. A shit-eating grin too big for his face and it carves dimples into the flesh of his cheeks. His name on her tongue had never sounded so appealing, like it was made for her and only her to say. Not even the turtle-doves that cooed outside his window in the mornings sounded as beautiful as she did saying his name. And she complimented her nails! She hadn’t scrutinized him like others had, instead, she displayed her admiration for them. No one- well, actually he can’t say that without offending Mitch- no female of his age had ever received him with such open-mindedness as hers. If he didn’t have any self-restraint, he would giggle. Instead, Harry pulled his hand back so that their perfect moment wasn’t sullied with bouts of bad timing, “thank y’love. I like yours, too. You’ll have t’come over sometime and paint mine, yeah?”
Y/n laughed, and he breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t been too bold, “I’d love too!” With glee frozen on her, she turned to look over her shoulder at the customer who was browsing the flowers Harry had in buckets, “I don’t want to hold you back from a customer for so long. I’ll stop by again soon, Harry. Thank you so much for your help.”
The moment her hands reached for the wrapped bundle of sunflowers and the mermaid vase, a metaphorical grey cloud of rain and thunder manifested in the space above his head, and blocked all of the sunshine from spanning across his toned, lithe body. Did she really have to go? He wanted to whine. Maybe even wrap himself around her ankles like a child that refused to leave the park. They were only just getting to a mutual spot of comfort! Forget the other customer, he wanted to shout. Harry would kick them out and flip the sign to ‘closed’ if it meant only a few more minutes in the presence of her candy-coated charisma.
But he knows that’s unrealistic, and settles with, “it was my pleasure, y/n,” a flirty wink (at least he hopes it is), “I’ll be waiting f’your next visit.” His taffy lips wrapping effortlessly around his smooth words, fueled by her welcoming receptiveness to his advances. It would be easy to be himself in the future, a little smoother and eloquent in his language and feeling. He was usually clear with what he wanted from anyone, and made it a pleasurable experience in all aspects for both parties involved (once it was three). Harry wanted to sweep her off her feet, and he wanted it to be an enjoyable experience for the both of them. Revel in that feeling of blooming emotions in a new relationship. A healthy one, in which he wasn’t receiving back-handed compliments all the time.
He wasn’t superficial enough to push anyone off the table based on looks alone, but it did help that y/n had the disposition of an angel. An ethereal voice, supple lips that looked so silky and soft they had to feel that way, too, and hands that felt so tender in his. Perfect for holding on a late night stroll, or over the center console of his car when -if they go out on dates.
What really hooked, reeled, and sinked him, though, was the fact that she was so nice to him. From the start, she’d been nothing but polite and sweet with him. Don’t even get him started on the way he swooned at the tone of her voice when he said that her name was pretty! So quiet and velvety, careful and calculated like she wanted him to know that it was okay. That she wasn’t thrown off by his comment. He nearly toppled over, clutching his heart with his legs jutting straight up into the air like a frightened goat.
It wasn’t until the bells stopped ringing the sad notice of her exit that Harry realized he passed up the perfect opportunity to ask for her number, and as he kicked himself over it, he walked with the perfect customer service face he could muster to help the other person in his store.
Harry was having a shitty morning.
Not the kind of morning where every aspect of his routine is a terrible mishap, but like the water being too cold and the stove not working or the bottle of oat milk in the fridge being empty so he couldn’t make coffee. No, everything was fine and rolling smoothly, as it should.
His water was the perfect temperature and ran down the toned bumps and divots of his muscles like the relaxing thrums of a lover’s caress in the midst of prowling heat. As soon as it hit his back, he released a sigh of contentment, his shoulders hunching and head rolling back and his hands roamed his shoulders and the back of his neck, rubbing away any aches that existed. The branch of eucalyptus that hung from the golden pipe of his showerhead fused a thick minty scent into the steam that fogged the glass wall, and the calming aroma helped the tendons loosen like the deflating limpness of untied shoelaces. He spent a few minutes just standing there, inhaling and exhaling deeply and feeling his lungs open and stretch beneath his rib cage.
It almost made him wish that he’d opted to use his tub for a hot bath instead.
He was able to cook an egg just fine on his stove, with dashes of Everything Bagel Seasoning with a side of avocado and a slice of toasted cranberry walnut bread, the same thing he had every morning. The carton of oat milk was brand new from his trip to the market the day before, and his coffee tasted the same as it always did. But… he was just... sad. An melancholy soreness that eroded against the insides of his body, consuming him slowly but surely and leaving him with a lost feeling of emptiness and unimportance.
He thinks he might know why he’s feeling this way.
While he’s stirring his scrambled eggs, he’s wondering how y/n likes hers. Over easy? Sunny-side up? Scrambled, like him? Did she even like eggs in the morning? What did she eat in the morning? He knows that some people ‘aren’t hungry’ in the mornings, though that’s only because they’ve gone hungry in the mornings before for an extended time period, and after so long of not feeding their growling stomachs, their brain discontinues the signals of hunger. Harry hopes that isn’t the case with y/n, and that she’s eating the proper three meals a day every day.
And while he dipped a mini vegan chocolate croissant that he got at Whole Foods, he also wonders what she likes to dip chocolate croissants into, or if she even likes chocolate croissants. If she was a person who likes sweet treats, like strawberry tarts with powdered sugar over them or something lighter, like fruit cut into small squares in a bowl. When Harry was younger and would visit his nan on the weekends, she would pick fresh strawberries from her garden and cut them up for him when he’d woken from his nap. Sometimes, she would even sprinkle half a tablespoon of sugar over them. He wonders if she’d ever eaten strawberries like that.
It’s been a week and a half, he still hasn’t seen her, and his heart is yearning.
Harry knows he’s not in the correct headspace to assist other people with a cheery disposition about an hour before opening time, and decides it’s best if he writes a note on the door about how the shop wouldn’t open that day because he didn’t want to taint the reputation of his business by snapping at a customer for the only bundle of sunflowers he had, or dissolve into a puddle of love-sick tears in the middle of ringing someone up. Though really the notice just says ‘H’s Garden will not be opening today. Sorry for the inconvenience!’ followed by a frowning face and a lopsided, filled-in heart.
Harry drags his feet back up the stairs, his lower lip jutting out in a discreet but depressing pout, and grabs Owen from his tank so that the chameleon could curl into the shoulder of Harry’s hoodie while he moped on the couch to sappy rom-coms that would only make him think about her more. At least there was someone there with him, even if his small green friend only used him for mangoes and papaya. They sit together for the entirety of Romeo + Juliet, and when it’s over, Harry’s sniffly and standing up to return Owen to his enclosure and to clean because the riotous emotions that whirl within him are too much to process while sitting down.
Cleaning wouldn’t help him solve his problems, but it would help him cram all of his worries into a tight corner at the back of his mind- sort of like when dirty laundry began to overflow in the hamper and it requires extra force to shove it all in, only to come all back out like a memory sponge. His tormented thoughts on y/n could be compared to a dramatic inner monologue, very similar to how Romeo feels about his Juliet. But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and y/n is the sun. Harry has the play on his book shelf (the one with the side-to-side modern English translation because he was never quite gifted in the English department) and as he reaches for a bandana to tie his hair back, he finds himself resonating with a particular line: parting is such a sweet sorrow.
There was no need to change any of his clothing, since he was already dressed in one of his more impromptu outfits; grey sweats and a white t-shirt that read ‘women are smarter’ in black across his chest. He tied the red bandana into a knot at the back of his head, and lifted it over his chin so that it settled on his forehead, sweeping his hair back with a final push back. It doesn’t get in his way when he crouches to clean his various tables, spraying cleaning products with his shirt pulled over his nose, another organic product that’s supposed to be less harmful and smells like cinnamon and sandalwood. His shoulder blades begin to ache because he’s being a little more aggressive than he has to be, but the green tiles were sparkling so he was content.
He washes the dishes, mops the kitchen floor, vacuums the carpets, cleans Owen’s habitat, and tidies the mail that piled up on the table when he finally calls it quits. Scouring his brain for something to do, to keep him busy- his brain busy, Harry settles on the floor with his back to the edge of his bed. He’s shirtless now, and is in need of another shower but he’d rather not because he knows he might end up crying over the possibility that he’s scared y/n off. There’s a book in his hands and a Frank Ocean record playing softly in the background that mentions something about ‘I've been thinkin' 'bout you, do you think about me still?’ and it’s not helping his case at all.
It’s no use.
There’s a plague of darkness buzzing like cicadas in his ears. He fears rejection and criticism. That maybe, she was only pretending in order to make the situation more pleasant so it ended sooner. Most of all, he feared that it would always be this way. That he would never find someone who embraces who he is as a person. Always met with mean side-eye glances or second looks of displeasure and confusion. It isn’t always that way, though, because then that would mean he gets absolutely no action, and that isn’t true.
Harry is very… well-educated in matters that concerned sexual intercourse, but it was always a one-night stand ordeal. It was never ‘I really like you we should go out sometime’. In fact, he noticed that only time his approaches were well received were those in which he was dressed in a calmer manner. Simple, solid colors with sneakers or a t-shirt. Girls would flirt back, make good conversation, allow him to buy them a few drinks, and when he’d take them to his apartment they’d ask why he lived on top of a flower-shop, and if it was his sister or female-friend’s palace that he was crashing. Sex would ensue, but his heart wouldn’t be as present and engaged as he wanted it to be.
Wrong. It was always so fucking wrong, and God, if he didn’t get out of this apartment he’s going to breakdown and cry and there’s no one to call to come over because Mitch is on a trip with his girlfriend, Sarah, and his other friend Jeff is on his honeymoon in Sweden. They were the only two on his mental speed dial list during the rare occasions he had a crisis, as they were the two that Harry had ever really opened up to. Mitch was a bit closer to his heart. They’ve known each other since their school days and practically grew up together (at one point they had small crushes on each other, which were confessed years down the line). Jeff was the owner of Winsome where… where y/n had mentioned spending her last twenty dollar bill. He didn’t have an issue opening up to them. He liked opening up to them, but he didn’t understand why they were the only two that ever truly opened their arms to him.
A walk, he decided, would help him… air out his brain. Calm down. Breathe a little deeper, a little easier.
He threw his white shirt back on, and a forest green sweatshirt that donned the emblem of the school he went to earn his business degree that fit him wide around the shoulders and felt like a marshmallow. Putting on a pair of beat up shoes, he shoved his keys into his pocket, hobbling and nearly losing his balance because he was moving way too fast. The door closed behind him with a slam, and even though he was still wearing the bandana around his head, wispy stray curls framing his face in a wild mane, his distress palpable through his appearance, but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out and feel the cool air against his skin.
There’s a backdoor behind the stairs that will take him to a small alleyway that leads to a back parking lot where other shop owners that live at the top of their stores on the same side of his street parked their cars. He unlocks it from the inside, and throws his shoulder into it, desperate to her out. When it shuts behind him, he doesn’t turn back because it’s the kind to lock from the outside when closed. His fingers curl into the ends of his sleeve so that the tips of his fingers (nails now changed to a sparkling silver color) are the only parts of his hands visible.
Rounding the corner, he whistled the cheeriest tune he can muster. His lips are puckered and his cheekbones high with the extension of his mouth. He’s not very happy on the inside, though he remembers reading something somewhere that if you pretend to be something long enough, you’ll eventually become it. If he pretends to be happy, then he’ll actually be happy.
Harry rounds the corner of the parking lot and turns on to the main street. It’s only two in the afternoon, so there's people crawling in and out of shops anywhere. He even sees a man and a woman peeking into the window of his store, and he would feel bad if he wasn’t in a shitty mood already. He’s so out of it, that he nearly yells ‘get your hands off my windows!’. He doesn’t though, because for a moment the woman becomes y/n and the man becomes him, wrapping a ringed hand around her waist and whispering in her downy ear ‘they’re closed, darling, let’s go somewhere else’ and she straightens dejectedly, pouting playfully and standing up and her tippy toes so that she could press a quick kiss to his lips.
That image fades though, and the couple continues with their stroll, hand in hand, and his heart is wrenching, writhing and trying to yank itself free from it’s place in his chest because it hurts too much to stay.
Cars whizz past, and he skirts in and out of people on the sidewalk, keeping his pace fast and focused. There’s no intended destination, he’s just moving with the intent to forget the pretty girl who haunts him. Her voice is all he can hear. Her smile is all she can picture. And the rest of her is all he can imagine, which is exactly what hurts the most. Imagination only goes so far, fulfils so much with uncertainty of what the truth was and what wasn’t. Harry could imagine her with her feet up on the lip of a bubble filled tub, a glass of wine in her hands, but then…what kind of wine did she like? Or did she even like wine? And did she even have a bathtub to stretch out in after a long day?
He curses the crimes he may have committed in past lives to deserve this torture. This unbearable pain that felt like he was being dunked in a slow-acting acid. He can do nothing about it but keep walking with labored will power. He passed his shop, and a bakery and a small thrift store that sells used clothing for way too much money. At the propped open double-doors of Jeff’s Winsome, he decides to talk in and browse. There’s so many items that smell good and taste good, that it was fun to just walk in and look.
“Back again so soon, H?”
Spinning on his heel, Harry comes face to face with Niall, a brunette, fit, Irish bloke with a chummy smile and a killer sense of humor. The two have brokered a sort of friendship, considering the amount of time (and money) that Harry spends there. Niall has even started calling him ‘H’ in silent homage to his flower shop.
“Y’know I can’t stay away,” Harry attempted to joke, his lips pulling up in a weak smile, “plus, I think I needed s’more of the peppermint essential oils f’my diffuser.”
“‘Course ya do! You're worse than the bloody vegan mums that come in asking for gluten free baby powder!” Niall cups a hand over his mouth and loudly whispers to so that only Harry catches his verbiage. There was a woman in the back of the store, looking through soaps in the limited kid’s section, the same exact kind that Niall was speaking about. “Go on and look around then, I’ll be here when you’re finished.” He said.
Harry only nodded his acknowledgement, and moved in between wooden walnut shelves. The entire store had a caramel brown color scheme, with only the inventory adding color to it. Macramé potted succulents and plants added to the natural, outdoorsy feel. Winsome had an interesting mix of smells from all of the aromatherapy based products it housed, but it only added to the appeal.
Currently, he held a packet of four lip balms that advertised to be ‘100% all naturally derived ingredients with no artificial additives' infused with ‘healing power of crystals’, two of them ‘citrine cherry' flavored, and the remaining ‘garnet guava’. The brand name is something in Italian that he can’t read, packaging thick and a triangle made of arrows in the corner signaling it can be decomposed and/or recycled. He had the same exact ones at home, only they were all misplaced and-
A small, timid voice called his name from behind him, and he froze. He knew that voice. It was the same one he had repeated over and over in his head for the past week, waiting for her promised arrival with a hopeful heart.
His eyes go wide with recognition, body still and stiff like a deer caught in headlights. His heart begins to rump at a furious speed, loud in his ears like a million stampeding hooves. The packaged products in his hands shake, and then she speaks again, “Harry, is that you?”
Is this really happening right now? He’s embarrassed at having been caught with lipstick in his hands of all things, but he can’t put them back now. It was too late for that. He lets them hang at his side, and turns around. He hopes there isn’t perspiration dripping from his temples because all of a sudden he wants to yank his sweater off.
Harry turned, slowly. He feared that if he moved too fast she would fly away like a startled dove.
“Y/n…” He’s breathless, but he manages a pitiful quirk of the corner of his mouth, which he licks over right after, “hi.”
She’s wearing a dress this time, frilly at the hem which fell just above her knees. It’s pink and covered and lined with blood red trim at her forearms. A string of pearls glistens at the base of her throat, and her lips are covered in a sheen of lipstick. Her hair, however, is a tousled mess, pieces of it framing her face and untucked from her bun as if she had been jostling around. Her cheeks are flushed with the cold, and clearly that thin beige cardigan hanging off her elbows is doing nothing to keep her warm.
Y/n smiles at him, with the same shakiness, “f-for a second I thought I was talking to the wrong p-person.”
It’s quiet again, and they’re both fidgeting. Y/n’s knees knock together as she shifts her weight from foot to food, and Harry idly rubs his finger under his nose and sniffs boogies that aren’t there. She’s staring at the ground and rocking back and forth on her heels and he can’t think of anything to say because he’s so paralyzed by the fact that she’s actually standing in front of him, and looks as gorgeous as ever. Had he somehow manifested her presence?
While she’s hiking up the ends of her sweater so that they’re situated properly on her shoulders, he says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Aren’t y’cold?”
Her head snaps up and she peeks at him from under her lashes while flattening a hand at her thigh, “a little bit.”
Harry watches her tuck her hair behind her ears and wonders if she came walking from her apartment again. In the cold. Dress as she was. Not that he had a problem with the way that she was dressed! He understood that sometimes when people grew bored they used the smallest occasions to dress up and have some fun and get out of their homes. He did it too, sometimes. To clear his head. Hell, isn’t that what he was doing now?
“D’you need a ride home?” He stumbled over his tongue to backtrack, not wanting her to think that he was a wierdo or anything like that, “t-that is if y’walking, I wouldn’t want you to get sick or anything like that. S’bit chilly out today.”
Y/n smiles shyly at him, a blush on the highest points of her cheeks, and rubs the side of her face against the fabric of her cardigan, “thank you, for the offer, but uhm… it’s my friend’s baby-shower-gender-reveal thing today and I came with my other friend to some last minute gifts and some flowers. I was going to buy some stuff from here because she’s crazy about the whole ‘no preservatives’ and all but, and I was also going to stop by your shop to buy some flowers, but I saw you were closed so I…I’m rambling again.” She sputtered out the last bit, and pressed the tips of her three middle fingers to her lips to stop the words from coming out.
Harry smirked at her antics, but it’s more of a repressed smile, and the rest of his humor gleamed in the sea-glass of his eyes like a message in a bottle.
“S’alright, love.” He’s still holding the lip balms in his hand, and he can feel the moisture that’s collecting on his palms dampening the Kraft like material as he gestured to her dress with the tip of his chin. “Y’wearing pink. I take it y’want the baby to be a girl?”
“Actually, I know it’s a girl. She told me,” y/n pips, shrugging smugly.
Harry laughs at her this time, “Did you finish with all your purchases here? I can make an exception and open up f’you.”
“Oh, Harry, I don’t wanna bother you! Because if this was your day off then-”
He lifts a hand to get her to stop, and uses the opportunity to twist around and put back what he had in his hands. The conversation is flowing so smoothly now, that all of his previous worries are gone. He can only focus on her and the way her eyelashes fluttered and the crystalline sparkly in her voice.
“Y/n, it’s fine. D’ya finish here? We can head over to the shop now if you’d like.” Harry points a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the door.
“Uh, no. I just got here so I still have to go grab some things,” she said, pushing her hair past her ears again. He thinks that she can probably tell the disheveled state her hair was in, because she begins to pop off a pin in her hair to readjust it. He doesn’t mind it, though. He thinks she looks cute. Angel-like.
He nods, rolling his hands into fists within his sleeves so that the cuffs hang over his knuckles, and tries not to trip over his legs as he backs away. “A’right. I’ll wait f’you in the front, then. Take y’time, love.”
“‘Kay,” she gleams at him, biting down on her bottom lip, and Harry turns away fully before he starts whining about how cute she is or before there’s a dent in the heather grey fabric of his sweatpants.
At the front, Niall has his chin at the palm of his hand, and as he gets closer, Harry lifts his head to see that the brunette is wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. There's a shit-eating grin on his face that clearly points to a mountain of teasing in the near distance.
“A little love-struck, mate?” He said, as soon as Harry was within hearing distance. At least he had the decency to keep his voice down, he thought.
Harry flips him off, “oh, bug off.”
Silver glitter sparkling on his nails, and his gaze strays to the floor, bashful of how clear his affection was. He turns to rest his bum against the counter and pulls out his phone to appear busy as he waits for y/n, mindlessly opening Instagram to have something to do (and to stop him from glancing at her ever two seconds).
“Yup. I knew it. Have y’asked her out yet?” Niall doesn’t stop to let Harry refute his question, “y’know she comes in sometimes, after stopping by your place? And she just will not stop talking about how nice yeh were to her.”
Harry’s head snaps up from his screen so fast, something at the back of his neck creaks with the force. Instagram is long forgotten.
“What? Are you fuckin’ with me right now?” He doesn’t mean for his words to come as aggressive as they do, but the thought of her speaking to someone else about him is… well, it’s thrilling.
Alarmed, Niall’s hands come up near his face in the motion of surrender, “no, man! Dead serious. Think she likes yeh, honestly.”
He can only say: “Fuck me.”
Niall is about to respond when a quiet voice breaks their stares, “I’m all finished.”
“Already, babe? I’ll rig ya up, then!”
He’s quick to slide the few products over the scanning square, and y/n and Harry stand beside each other silently, their height difference laughable. Niall’s gaze flickered between them with no commentary, and his lips pucker with a wiggling smile when he finally announces her total. A bit too much for a small changing blanket, oatmeal-based baby lotion, pacifiers with a lavender infused towel attached to ‘aid with goodnight night’s sleep’, and a bamboo hairbrush with a tuft of soft bristles.
Nonetheless, she provides the money with a pleasant smile. Harry can see a bit of tightness around her eyes that suggests discomfort, but he doesn’t say anything. Niall hands her a paper bag with her purchase, “there yeh go! Have a good day now, y/n! And be good, to Harry!”
Harry’s eyes widen at Niall’s last comment, and it takes every bit of self-restraint in him to not reach the other counter and whack him in the back of the head. Instead, he shakes and ducks his head in near shame.
Y/n, however, quips back with “I’ll be nice only if you’re nice,” and bumps her shoulder against his before walking towards the door, looking over her shoulder at Harry who’s smiling wide now, and trailing after her with no regard to Niall at all.
He shouts something after them about being rude lovebirds, but Harry doesn’t care. He’s floating after this heaven-sent like cartoon characters being led to a freshly baked pie with their nose on the scent. His rump high in the air like the Lorax disappearing into the light in the clouds, utterly ignorant to everything else.
When they’ve both stepped outside, they speak at the same time,
“Let me just-”
“Do y’wanna put-”
Harry and y/n giggle at each other,
“You go first.”
And then they laugh again. Harry pretends to zip his lips and throws away the key, and she says radiantly, “I’ll drop this off in my friend’s car really fast and we can walk to your flower shop.”
Watching her approach a car parked two spots away, a girl with blue, pink, and brown hair leans over to the passenger side, seat belt straining against her throat and when she sees Harry, she waves and it makes y/n push her back to her spot behind the driver’s side. Whoever this girl is, she and Niall have to meet, seeing as they can’t mind their own business. He chuckled and waved back, that girl laughing along with him and it made y/n cover her face with her cardigan covered hands.
“I’m sorry about Charlotte,” she said when she got back, “she doesn’t know how to mind her own.”
“A bit like Niall, it seems.” Harry said. He waits for her to catch up before beginning to walk down the street. Side to side, shoulder to shoulder. They’re so close, Harry can feel the warmth of her body heat through the fleece of his sweatshirt. It’s cold, and she’s still this warm?
“Maybe,” her eyebrows raise, and her head tilts towards him, “they should meet.”
“Tha’s exactly what I was thinkin’!” His voice rises with his excited agreement, and the tip of his nose wiggles as he scrunches his nose.
As they get closer, to H’s Garden, Harry reaches into his pocket for his keys, fingering through them so that they wouldn’t have to stand in the cold for so long. He didn’t want her to get sick.
“I’m sorry, Harry. I feel really bad about this,” she whispered beside him, looking up at him with doe eyes as she worried her lip between her teeth, the sheen of gloss adding an extra allure to her image at that moment. “It’s your day off, and I’m bugging you.”
They stood in front of the door now, underneath the green umbrella cover that extended from the top of the door and down the side of the window. Harry waited for her to step into the little alcove created by the indent of the door before stepping in after her and jiggling the key into the lock. He resisted the urge to pull his lips down into a cooing frown at the look on her face. She really was worried about disturbing him. If only she knew that he spent the entire day moping (and nearly crying) over her.
He sucked on his teeth, “oh, love, please worryin’ about it. Don’t wanna see that frown on y’pretty face anymore okay?” His confidence was slowly coming back, “s’not my day off, I just didn’t feel like speaking to customers today.”
Shrugging, he opened the door, and took a step back to allow her to step through first. Y/n ducked her head as she passed him with a murmured ‘oh, okay’, and he followed right after her, wanting to get away from the cold too because he knew that his nose was probably pink at that moment, but what he didn’t anticipate was for y/n to stop right after breaching the threshold, and bend over at the waist to pick something up from the floor, causing Harry to bump into her at such an awkwardly sexual angle with all of his momentum.
Considering he was half twisted away from her and in the middle of pulling out the key from it’s slot, the amount of force in Harry’s push from behind was enough to cause her to nearly fall forward, a surprised whimper slipping from her lips. Harry, determined not to see her fall, lets go of the key and reaches out just in time to grasp her hips on either side, pulling her back towards him mid-fall so that she doesn't collapse on her face.
However, in the midst of all of this Harry forgets himself and uses a bit too much force. Not to mention, the implications of their position makes him hyper aware of every single place their bodies touched, her small frame against his lithe, tattooed body.
This moment only lasts for a few seconds, but he can feel everything.
He can feel the easy give of the skin of her hips underneath each finger that touched her, the softness of the flesh on her thighs against his sturdy knees. The fabric of his sweatpants is suddenly non-existent, and it’s almost as if he felt every taught tendon of her legs, frozen with efforts of helping catch or brace herself. The heat of her groin is flush against his, and it makes him want to scream with a sudden sensitivity. Her ass is practically seated on him, full and malleable against the points of his laurel covered hip bones. Harry’s semi-hunched, as her weight also pushed him back, and the position is doing nothing to help his frenzied mind settle. He feels like shit because he’s being a horny, pubescent kid instead of asking her if she’s okay, but then y/n moves back into him to straighten fully and their centers grind. Her dress is semi-bunched at the halfway point of her bum, and he can feel heat emanating from her, radiating back on his bloating cock. He has to stifle a moan when she pushes herself up with the tips of her fingers.
Just as quickly as it started, it’s over. Y/n is dusting her bum off so that her dress falls and covers her modesty, and she’s beet red in the face, not looking at him. Which was fine by him, he was too ashamed to look into her eyes.
He clears his throat (something he’s doing a lot around her) and asks if she’s okay.
“Yes. Yes, I’m okay. This was on the floor,” she squeaked, holding up a neon yellow notice sheet in her hand. That damned thing was what caused all of this?
It’s a notice from the delivery men that said, ‘sorry! We missed you!’ with a time and date messily scrawled on the dotted lines. Harry had forgotten that he was getting a shipment of several plants that morning.
Cursing, he takes it from her, “t-thank you. Now how ‘bout those flowers?”
It’s awkward, obviously, but y/n is severely silent. Harry’s still stuffy in his pants, but he ignores it and doesn’t add any fuel to the fire because there’s more pressing matters at hand than a boner. Y/n is the most quiet she’s ever been around him, considering all of her word vomits and ramblings, and he’s suffering. Definitely beating himself up in his head for having ruined the moment. He held onto her for a second too long, frozen. She must feel so embarrassed, and he was self-endulging like a fucking asshole.
Harry asks her questions on what flowers she’d like, and she answers by pointing or bringing a stem to him, laying it on the counter without a word. A mixture of dahlias and baby’s breath with a handful of feverfew to make the pink in the dahlia’s stand out. He lays them out on his work table, cutting the ends at an angle where they need to be cutted and laying them out on a sheet of clear, dusty rose paper. Three packets of flower food are strewn at the corner, and y/n busies herself by fidgeting with them. He grows concerned when he makes a comment on the kinds of ribbons he had stored and she doesn’t say anything. Not even a nod or a hum.
Eventually, he decides he’s had enough of her neglect, and pauses his work to devote her some attention.
“Love, I’m sorry about what happened,” he said softly, trying to catch her eyes, “I know it probably made y’uncomfortable, and I didn’t do much to make the situation better, but I just didn’t wanna see y’fall.”
Y/n’s head is already dipped, so he can’t see her face, but when her shoulders begin to shake, he knows he’s utterly fucked. She starts to sniffle, and his eyes go wide. The paper crinkled as he set down the baby’s breath he’s holding in his hands. He hates seeing people cry, not because he didn’t know how to deal with it, but because he often ended up crying along with them. Also, he just didn’t want to see her cry. Harry wanted her to be happy, glowing, and smiling. Not dull with dollops of woeful distress in liquid form.
He rounds the corner and spares a look out to the street, wanting to make sure that there is no strange onlooker eavesdropping on their interaction. His hand reaches out to stroke her back or shoulder comfortingly, but he thinks better of it and drops his arm. She most likely would not like to be touched, considering what just happened between them. He drops his head, seeking face-to-face interaction, and speaks as gently as he can, “y/n, what’s wrong?”
She avoids his search, and turns the other way while sniffling, “you probably think I’m weird now or something after that.”
“No!” Harry exclaimed, jerking his head back as if he’d been struck, and her words practically had. He can’t believe that she would think that and even go as far as verbalizing her thoughts when he worshipped the ground she walked on and didn’t even know her that well, yet. “No, no. I don’t think that. Y’tripped, that’s all. Happens to everyone. If anythin’ I’m the weirdo for grabbin’ y’the way I did, and I’m really sorry about it.”
Y/n dig the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, “that was so embarrassing, I should’ve told you I was gonna stop or something. I always embarrass myself in front of cute boys and I never know what to do. I just-”
Harry interrupts before she can dig herself further another hole. He highlights a segment of her words, dropping everything else in hopes of changing the conversation and taking her discomfort away, and mostly because he was bursting with relief and happiness. She had said that she thought he was cute, just how he thought that she was adorable, and nice, and everything good. They were on the same level, their minds in sync. Did that mean…
His voice is airy and light because of what she had just admitted, “y’think I’m cute?”
She stills with awareness of what she’s just said, and a puppy-like noise seeps from the back of the throat before her hands sink further into her eyes, embarrassed. Harry tenderly wraps his fingers around her small wrists and pulls her hands away from her face, murmuring about ‘don’t rub y’eyes anymore, love, y’gonna hurt’ with nothing but kindness. A millisecond of distraction speeds through his mind at the softness on the inside of her wrists.
There’s a trickle of blubbering in her part, her bitten lips bumping against each other as she attempts to backtrack, “I mean- I- I-”
Harry decides that it’s now or never. It was a bit inconvenient, perhaps, but with her revelation his confidence soared and he was more prepared now to ask than he ever had been. So, he goes for it, “can I have y’number?”
A moment of semi-uncomfortable silence as the unknown tips the scale. Would she say yes? Would she say no? His head was spinning and he hoped his nose didn’t start bleeding or something because y/n nods slowly, smiling, and then, “okay.”
He’s elated. He was the polar opposite of what he had been that morning. If only Owen could see him then. He doesn’t waste any time reaching into his back pocket and handing her his unlocked phone. They don’t share any words, only coy glances and flirty quirks of the lips as the tips of her fingers move on his screen. Harry can’t believe that he’s finally getting her number, after nearly a month of pinning.
When she’s finished, she clicks it off and sets it next to him with an added pat to the back of his suspiciously clean white phone case while he’s tying the flowers together with a loose rubber band at the ends to attach the food packets. He’s fine with working in silence now that she's not crying anymore. He throws occasional glances in her direction, and catches her watching his hands while fiddling with her own. Her brows were furrowed and her mouth was twitching.
“Will you text me?” She asked him.
He’s careful not to bruise any of the petals as he sets them down again, pausing with his ministrations to pick up his phone. He wiggles his eyebrows at her and types a quick ‘Hi. It’s Harry :)’. He hits send, “until you’re sick of me.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” She shakes her head, and Harry’s reminded Rachel McAdams in The Notebook while she’s in complete denial of her feelings for Noah. The comparison makes his heart flutter, considering the romance of the onscreen couple. “How much do I owe you?”
Harry waves her off, “it’s on the house.” She begins to argue, but Harry stops her before she starts rambling again, “y’better go or you’ll be late, love.” He holds out the arrangement to her, tufts of baby’s breath poking out from between the vibrant dahlias like fluffy clouds, the feverfew looking like miniature white daisies in the center.
She looks at it, and back at him before huffing, “fine, but you’ll have to let me return the favor.”
“Of course,” he smirks, “with dinner, maybe?”
They’re both gleaming at each other now, “okay.” Y/n takes a step back, her body half twisted as she walks away, but it remains like that for a moment as her eyes rake him up and down, a murmur following, “bye, Harry.”
His veins charge with electricity, and his dark taffy lips part at her actions. Had she just checked him out? He doesn’t recover quick enough to return her goodbye because the previous swirl of arousal in his navel was bristling back to life at the implications of that look. Calm, slow, steady, and her eyes remained doe-like and innocent.
She had to have known exactly what she was doing, whispering his name the way she had, looking over her shoulder and under her eyelashes the way she did. Deviously provoking his thoughts to begin a new with a reinspired fervor. The space in his underwear was growing tighter by the second, a blissful ache swelling.
Before any other customer stepped in after her, Harry locked the door, and jogged up the stairs to prepare himself a nice, hot bath, simultaneously cursing and thanking the stupid fucking delivery men.
Harry can’t stop thinking.
Obviously, this is a huge issue for him. He was constantly thinking, and well, who wasn’t? The process of thoughts wisping around in his brain was one that he often put an unnecessary amount of energy into because he had no one to filter these thoughts onto, releasing them through a conversation to prevent the exhaustion of his brain and heart. A prime example of these mishaps being the depressing slump that occupied his demeanor that very morning.
This was different.
As soon as the apartment door was shut behind him, Harry pulled the suffocating sweatshirt off of his upper body, fingers hooking in at the collar and yanking it off with a swift tug. It landed somewhere on his kitchen floor, and he didn’t stop to take note of its final destination. Instead, his legs instinctively took him to his bathroom.
Chest heaving, Harry walked to the small window leaking sunlight and rolled the stick between his fingers to close the blinds. His thumb dipped into the waistband of his boxes and dragged them down lopsidedly, the tiger tattoo roaring as it became exposed. When the blinds are fully closed, the white extension clangs against the shutters from his aggressive release. His body was slowly being consumed by a raging fire stoked by the illicit images his brain conjured of the innocent, unsuspecting y/n.
His inner turmoil consisted of guilt for using her image that way and justification from the conspiring rake of her eyes along the upper half of him that was visible behind the counter. He was so fixated by her, that her look alone felt like a tempting caress along his skin. And it all happened in a matter of fucking seconds. That’s how gone he was. That’s how fucking gone he was. Harry guesses that the easy excitement also had to do with the fact that he hadn’t gotten laid in a while (he only ever gets lucky when he goes out to the bars with Mitch or Jeff, and they’d been gone for a significant amount of time) and the strong affinity he had for the girl who bought flowers from him.
Explanation or not, he had to do something about the problem in his pants. He was painfully hard, and when he shucked his pants off fully, his underwear dragged with the movement and pressed against the tip of his swollen prick. A darkened patch of moisture bloomed where the head was, and he saw stars at the short pressure. He wouldn’t take his pants off just then, though. He liked to stall his pleasure as much as he could so that when he finally did cum, his stomach muscles contracted and his toes remained curled for more than ten seconds.
He twisted the golden knobs of his tub so that the water would come rushing out at a borderline scalding temperature, and opened the small cabinet above the toilet for a bottle of almond and coconut shea butter bubbles. He uncapped it and bent over the edge of the tip, the cool, porcelain lip touching his crotch and provoking a choked whimper to leave him. Jerking his hips back, he poured the soapy liquid into the spot where the water cascaded, and retracted his hand when the beginning of froth formed along the surface.
The heady sweet smell permeated the air with the rising levels of bubbles, and Harry couldn’t wait any longer. Because he liked to torture himself, he closed his eyes and slowly dragged the hell of his hand over the outline of his cock, a groan ripping though the silence. It’s so painfully good, that he does it one more time, and he jolts forward. He removes his hand, slips his thumbs underneath the waistband of his boxers, and lugs the fabric down his hips at an excruciatingly slow pace. The head of his member smearing precum all along as he moves and when he gets caught in the ripples of his boxers the muscles in his thighs flex at the ripple of pleasure that zips into his nerves.
“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. His mind was a spinning vintage reel of slideshow images of y/n. Y/n on bruised knees, her mouth wide open and her own drool on her tits, the tip of his cock flat on her tongue as she pleads with weepy eyes for him to cum down her throat. When he finally springs free of his underwear, a hefty slap rings out as his dick collides against his abdomen, right on the space underneath his belly button.
There’s a stripe of liquid on the trail left by the mushroom head of his prick, and Harry’s eyes roll to the back of his head, throat straining as he hovers over the bathtub. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever been this hard over a girl before, and it’s driving him crazy. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to last as long as he usually does. As he swings a leg over the edge of the tub, the hot water encasing his calf, he’s thinking about how soft she is. The inside of her wrist and the palm of her hand. If she’s that soft on an external part of her body that’s used everyday, he can only wither away at the idea of what the inside of her thighs feel like.
Bubbles are swarming up now, swathing his thighs and buttocks as he sinks into the sloshing water. When he’s completely seated and satisfied with the belly-button level of water, he clumsily throws a hand in the direction of the knobs to shut them off, and reclined his head against the curved end of the tub with his eyes shut.
He hikes up his knees so that they’re resting against the porcelain walls, and mindlessly ruts up into the water at the filthy images he’s picturing, white foam collecting in sparse clouds over the math on his chest. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. It’s as if his body is being transported back to the moment his hips clashed with y/n’s. At the recollection, his mouth drops and his eyebrows pinch in a silent moan. The feel of her flesh underneath his fingertips has him bobbing in the water, and the next ideation has him gripping the base of his cock.
Vividly, he pictured her on all fours, keening back onto him as her pussy enveloped him in warmth, a warmth that is almost replicated by the temperature of the water, dripping and making a mess of him but what’s turning him on most of all is the easy flushness of their bodies. He had felt the way her bum gave way under his hold, and he imagined the bounce of her flesh as he thrusted into her.
He moaned a broken call of her name with his eyes still shut, and heard the trickling of water as his fist rolled up his stiff prick, squeezing at the tip so that a few more droplets of precum dribbled out. With his thumb, he rubbed over the red mushroom head and lathered it in slow, leisurely circles, a throb pulsating with the beat of his heart as he returned to flicking his wrist over himself.
The way that he looked at him and the sound of his name on her lips seared into his memory. Airy and willowy, similar to it resonated in his brain with the fantasy of sinking into her for the first time, stretching her and having her preen and arch with desperate whimpers of his name for more. Harry considered himself to be ‘well-endowed’ and his size was a factor of what sent him careening over the edge as girls mewled over his size after he’d bottomed out. He wanted y/n to mewl under him, both of them falling apart at the seams at the mutual pleasures because if Harry’s this broken over just the thought of her, then he’s sure he’s going to lose himself beyond recognition after he’s buried himself into her velvety walls, slick with her arousal and so fucking warm.
Just as she had been earlier that day. There had been two layers between them- the fabric of Harry’s pants and her panties- yet, he was still able to feel an immense heat from the apex of her thighs against his cock. He needed more than this. He needed her, not just his hand driving him closer to the edge.
His jaw clenched as he bit back on a particularly loud moan, for no reason other than he enjoyed self-sabotage from time to time, and the speed of his jerking hand increased. His other hand gripped the side of the tub, and his legs flexed as he began to thrust up into his own fist, a trail of bubbles sticking to the tanned muscles. The cut rectangles of muscles of his abdomen glistened like freshly chopped cubes of apricot with the droplets of water that remained clinging to him. His breath came in labored, strained puffs as the palm of his hand twisted, tightening at the tip and loosening at the base.
For a moment, he paused and cupped his balls, massaging them as the fantasy in his head continued. His mouth wrapping around y/n’s nipples, her eyes glazed over from previous orgasm that he wanted so badly to give her. She’d whine something soft and quiet to match her personality, ‘please, Harry, please I want more. Need another Harry, please’, and he’d speed up the movement of his hips, driving deep into her and cooing into her ear about, ‘c’mon, darling. Give m’another then. Y’want it so bad, yeah? Give me a’fucking ‘nother’, and she’d release a peircing moan that explodes in his eardrums while arching into him. She’d squeeze impossible tight around him, gushing with her own cum.
The water in Harry’s tub sloshes around his ankles, and the muscles of his abdomen clench so that he’s closing in on himself, sputtering on an outrageously loud cry that he can’t contain and his hand increases the speed of his filthy ministrations because he’s right on the edge. He’s about to fucking cum and the back of his eyelids burns with the possible variances of y/n’s face in ecstasy provided by him with his nose deep in her cunt, lapping at the sweet honey that spills with every whimper of, ‘please let me cum, Harry. I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please let me cum.
He tensed violently, his face contorted painfully as white ropes spurt from the tip of his cock over his fist and onto his chest, blending with the white almond foam. His feet are braced against the edge of the tub and his head falls back and his stomach tenses even further, the final leaks of his cum dribbling out.
With the fuzziness that comes after an orgasm, his body melts back into the water that’s still warm, and his jerks with a pant as he allows his softening prick to sink into the water. The head on his hair is matted in a chocolate smear across his forehead, and his lips are a raging heart of cherry blossoms, parted with arduous gasps of recovery breath. His hands fall into the water at his sides, and with the lapping movement of the liquid against his sensitive member, he ruts into nothing again.
Reclined with his eyes closed and heartbeat slowing, Harry murmurs a final, “fuck me,” at the extreme sensations that had raked through his body.
Somewhere in the muffled distance, his phone dings with the notification of a text message, and with a tired noise of resentment, he sits up and reaches for his sweatpants that lay in a messy puddle besides the tub. His fingers drip darkening spots onto the grey material as he rummages for his phone, and then he finally clicks it on...
It’s her name, lighting up his screen, and the text reads:
y/n <3 : so… dinner?
Harry doesn’t think he’s ever crushed on a girl this hard before because even though he’s just completely physically spent himself, there’s something stirring in the depths of his tummy just at seeing the heart she put next to her name.
He couldn’t be happier.
* * * * * *
and here he is!! what do you guys think?? pls pls pls leave your feedback in my askbox! i’d love to hear your thoughts! and if you really really loved it, don’t be afraid to press that reblog button <3333
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leather & jeans | b.b
pairing : biker!bucky barnes x reader
summary : you walk into a biker bar to repay a debt for your brother and get more than you bargained for
word count : 1.9k
warnings : 18+ ONLY, smut, swearing, oral (m recieving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, daddy kink, praise kink, thigh riding, pet names
You regret offering to help your brother the moment you stepped through the door to the bar.
Loud ruckus all around you sent your heart rate through the roof, and it took everything in you to keep a calm exterior as all eyes fell on you. A momentary silence before the rowdiness resumed.
Walking into the bar owned by the local biker gang was scary enough as it was, let alone being a woman, walking in by yourself, carrying a bag full of cash.
You looked around through the sea of faces, hoping to see someone who looked mildly friendly that you could approach to ask for the man you needed. There seemed no such person. Instead, you opted to head to the bar and ask the bartender for help.
Clutching the bag on your shoulder, you made your way to the bar. On your journey through the leather-clad bodies, you bumped into someone.
“Sorry,” you blurted out, afraid of the consequences.
You looked up at the man you had bumped into. He towered over you, ruggedly handsome with long brown hair and piercing blue eyes. A black leather jacket coated his muscled body. Your eyes fell upon his left hand, made of metal, glistening in the light of the bar.
“No problem, doll,” the man replied. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this, hm?”
His intense gaze intimidated you, not to mention his beautifully carved face. “I’m looking for Bucky,” you answered, slightly flustered.
“Well,” said the man. “You’re lookin’ at him. What can I do for ya?”
The man did fit the description that your brother had given you. The boss. A ruthless, violent leader. Despite this, you couldn't help but be attracted to him, the danger perhaps adding to your desire.
You'd heard from your brother about all the horrible things this man was capable of, the terrible things he'd done. Danny had told you what happened to people who didn't pay up on time.
“Danny sent me,” you explained. “I have the money.”
He didn't tell you why, but your brother owed money to the leader and was banned from the bar until it had been paid. He sent you in his place, with a shit ton of money you had no idea how he had come to possess. You didn't want to think about it.
How'd a pretty young thing like you know that low-life? Bucky thought. Better yet, what was Danny thinking, sending you to a place like this, full of men ready and willing to take advantage of you.
“Let’s see it.”
You slipped the bag off your shoulder, opened it up and displayed the contents to Bucky. He peered into the bag and assessed the stacks of cash inside.
"This all of it?" He asked, looking back up to you.
You shrugged. "As far as I know."
Your heart was still pounding and an uneasy feeling had settled into your stomach. Something didn't feel right. All around you, watchful eyes fell upon you and the leader. You tried to ignore them, tried not to make eye contact with anyone.
"Come with me."
Closing the bag and slinging it back over your shoulder, you obeyed. Bucky placed a large hand on the small of your back, leading you through the crowd. Men adorned in leather jackets stepped aside, giving respectful nods to Bucky as he passed them.
He led you to a private room that resembled something like an office, though much less professional. Still, a wooden desk and chair gave the impression this was Bucky's office.
"Empty it out onto the table, darlin'," he ordered, finally removing his hand from your lower back. "I need to count it."
With the way he spoke, it was clear he was used to giving orders and having them followed. You dreaded to think about what happened to people who didn't obey him.
You did as you were told, feeling even more unsettled now that you were alone with this man. You stepped away from the money scattered on the desk, putting as much space between yourself and the man.
You watched as Bucky began to count the stacks, organising them into piles as he went. You waited in silence, not daring to interrupt him.
"Well," he spoke after he'd sorted all the stacks into piles. "Looks like it's all here."
"So what now?" You asked. "Is Danny still in trouble?"
Bucky looked at you, his eyes running up and down your body. "How'd you know Danny, sweetheart?"
A shiver ran down your spine at the nickname that rolled off his tongue so easily. "He's my brother."
He started towards you, closing the space you had put between you and him. "Danny never said he had a sister, or that she was so beautiful." Your cheeks heated at the compliment, but dread pooled in your stomach. "What was he thinking, sending a sweet little thing like you into a sinful place like this."
"I offered," you began to explain.
"That was stupid."
He slowly stalked even closer to you, like a predator catching its prey. In a bid to keep a safe distance from him, you backed away. You took a step back for every step he took towards you until your back hit the wall.
Your heart rate sped up as you realised you had backed yourself against the wall. And with Bucky advancing on you, there was no escape. Calling for help may only cause more problems.
"Don't worry, darlin'," he said darkly. "No need to be afraid. I just wanna teach your brother a lesson."
He had his body pressed up against yours, sandwiching you between him and the wall.
"Leave him alone," you breathed out. "Please."
He whispered in your ear. "Say it again." His breath was hot on your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Please," you whimpered again, ashamed at your arousal beginning to pool in your panties.
Bucky breathed in the sweet scent of your perfume, he could feel your heart thumping against his chest, hear your breath trembling. He couldn't help himself. You were so innocent, so untainted.
"What are you willing to do," he spoke gruffly into your ear, twirling his finger around a lock of your hair. "To make sure nothin' happens to your brother?"
He started slowly kissing behind your ear, trailing down to your neck as his beard scratched your soft skin. "Anything, hm?" He said gruffly. "Cos I've been dying to know what you'd look like with my cock buried in you since you walked through the door."
There was no denying any longer. "Bucky," you panted, desperate for his touch.
"Tell me you want it, baby," he urged, slipping a hand under your shirt. "I'll give it to you."
"Please," you pleaded. "I want it. I want you."
That was all Bucky needed to hear. He crashed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss, pulling off his jacket as he did so. You let out a small yelp at the urgency with which he kissed you, his facial hair rough against your face.
He slipped a thick thigh between your legs, causing a moan to escape your lips as his thigh brushed against your pussy through the fabric of your jeans.
"You like that, hm?" He growled, kissing his way down your neck as goosebumps erupted on your skin.
You managed a breathless 'yes', but Bucky pulled hard on your hair. "Yes, daddy," he corrected.
"Yes, daddy," you repeated and he let go of your hair, satisfied with your submission.
His touch sent shockwaves through your body, and your pussy throbbed, desperate for release. You palmed him through his trousers and he let out a deep groan, throwing his head back in pleasure.
"On your knees," he ordered, removing his leg from between yours.
You obeyed, sliding down the wall to your knees as he unfastened his belt, discarding it on the floor and unzipping his trousers. He pulled out his sizeable cock, already rock hard from your touch.
Again, you did as he told you to do, opening your mouth. He pushed his cock to the back of your throat, your eyes filling with tears as he triggered your gag reflex. Your mouth was warm and wet on his dick, and he savoured the feeling.
"Good job sweetheart," he praised. "Taking my cock so well."
Your head was pressed against the wall as he fucked your mouth, holding your hair back with his large hands. When the tears started streaming down your face, he knew you'd had enough.
"Be a good girl," he said, stepping away from you as you tried to catch your breath. "Bend over the desk for me."
You climbed to your feet and did as he asked. Bent over the desk, the used your forearms to prop yourself up slightly, so the hard, cold desk wasn't pressing into you.
"Look at this ass," he worshipped, grabbing a handful causing you to cry out. "All mine."
He yanked your jeans down, exposing your thong underneath. "Such lovely panties, you wear these just for me?"
"Yes, daddy," you mewled.
He pushed your panties aside and slipped a finger into your wet pussy. You moaned out as he curled his finger inside you.
"So wet for me, huh, baby?" He murmured, adding another finger as you clenched around him. "Such a pretty little pussy."
"Please, daddy," you whined. "I need your cock."
He chuckled darkly at your desperation. As he took his fingers out and pulled your thong down, you felt empty. He pressed the head of his cock to your sensitive clit and began lathering up your slick as he teased your entrance.
He pushed into you with a hard thrust and you cried out at the feeling of him stretching your walls. Your eyes rolled back as he started pounding into your pussy, almost feral.
"So fuckin' tight," he growled through gritted teeth as he hammered into you.
Your ecstatic moans could surely be heard by the long-forgotten men in the bar but you didn't care. Bucky, on the other hand, wanted them to hear you, wanted them to hear what he was doing to you. Show them you were his.
"Gonna fuck you so hard you can't walk," he groaned, continuing his assault. "This pussy is mine."
He was true to his word, fucking into you roughly, his large hands gripping your hips and leaving bruises to mark you as his. You were completely at his mercy, though he seemed to have none as he ignored your cries, a mixture of pain and pleasure, at the way he beat your cunt.
You had no idea how long he had been fucking you when he said, "Gonna cum inside that tight little pussy of yours."
His cock twitched inside of you before he stilled, filling you up with hot ropes of cum. He collapsed against you, sticky with sweat and panting for breath.
"You did so good for me," he murmured eventually, slowly pulling out of you and watching his cum drip down your thighs.
He helped get you cleaned up, gently wiping around our abused cunt before pulling your jeans and thong back up. Taking your flushed face in his hands, he placed a gentle kiss on your temple.
"You know where I am if you need me again."
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i had a dream that sam and dean took cas to an art museum and showed him all these paintings of angels and it was like that scene in vincent and the doctor and cas said these paintings are beautiful because they depict the angels as human when a true angel could never be described as anything but monstrous and i woke up crying
anon i love this SO much. i love it so much i had to write it. this is 1.4k, destiel, human!cas
They’re making their way out of the city, monster killed and day saved, when Castiel sees a poster, pasted up on the side of the plywood wall of a construction site. It’s an angel—he doesn’t recognize the artist, but he’d guess late 19th century. Be Not Afraid: a History of Angels in Art, it proclaims, the logo of the city’s largest art gallery tucked into the corner.
Castiel stares at it. The angel on the poster stares back, wings spread and staff raised. Valiant. Something in his heart twitches, but it’s hard to place. He still has his blade, tucked safely into the trunk with the rest of their frequently used weapons, and he never had wings like that; even the shadows, the ones they showed to humans, were simply the closest representation to the real thing possible in this dimension (his back aches anyway, dimly, his human body reacting to the loss as if they were real severed appendages. He ignores it).
Dean notices, because of course he does. He stops, because of course he does, and flags Sam down before his long legs can carry him too far ahead. “Hey. You good?”
Castiel isn’t sure how long he’s been staring at the poster, but it’s long enough that Dean is obviously concerned. “Hm? Oh. Yes, I’m—I’m fine.”
Dean nods but doesn’t move. He considers the poster. “Art gallery, huh?” he asks, avoiding the obvious elephant. Castiel appreciates it. He nods back.
“I’ve never been to one,” he offers, as explanation. It seems odd—he can remember the painting of the Sistine Chapel, he remembers watching with fascination as humans began collecting the smaller paintings into collections and museums, but he’d never been inside one. It hadn’t seemed necessary. Humans collect art in large boxes to remember their history, but Castiel has seen it all.
Dean seems surprised by this. “Seriously?” Castiel nods, and there’s a pause, and he’s about to turn and keep heading towards the car, and Kansas, and home, when Dean claps him on the shoulder and turns to call over his own.
“Sammy! How do you feel about seeing some art?”
“You want to go to an art gallery?” Sam sounds incredulous, and is closer behind him than Cas expected. He hadn’t noticed him retreat the half-block he’d managed to gain on them.
“Yeah, why not? Come on. What happened to ‘a little culture wouldn’t hurt, Dean?’”
"What happened to ‘I’ve got plenty of culture, eat your damn burger?’”
“It’ll be fun, Sam,” Dean counters. Something in his tone has changed. Cas doesn’t think too hard about it.
There’s a long pause, and Cas knows there’s some sort of communication happening he can’t hear or see. “…Okay,” Sam concedes. “Okay, sure. Yeah. Let’s go.”
So they do.
Dean makes a comment about “haven’t been in one of these since I was a kid,” before they all fall into the hushed silence of the museum floor. It’s nice—nicer than Castiel had expected. Not in aesthetics; the building is sleek, and modern, and the art is obviously beautiful. But it’s nice to be there. It feels almost Holy—humans, funny creatures they are, with their habit of treating their own culture with the respect of something divine. Creating houses of worship out of museums and libraries and living rooms.
He wanders through the various exhibits but doesn’t really pay attention until he ends up in the exhibit from the poster. He’d managed to lose the Winchesters halfway through the photography exhibit, when both the brothers had gotten distracted. Castiel had continued onward anyway, on a mission, and by the time he finds himself walking into the angel exhibit he’s on his own.
He comes to a stop in front of one of the largest paintings in the room. It’s not the same angel as the poster. It’s several, actually, looking over what appears to be Mary and a baby Jesus. The angels are beautiful—smooth, flawless skin. They have long hair that looks soft, even in paint. They’re wearing white robes, and their wings are white and dove-like. None of these angels have several heads, rotating bands of fire, or thousands of eyes. They’re beautiful, but they aren’t angels. The human who painted this didn’t know that, of course—none of them did. Humanity was faced with the concept of divinity and conceptualized it as a version of itself.
“The real things ain’t as cuddly, huh?”
Dean’s voice startles him, which he hates, both because he hates being startled and because he’s still adjusting to Dean being able to sneak up on him.
“I was just thinking,” he starts, pretending he’d known Dean was there the whole time, “you paint us like we’re human.” Not ‘us’ anymore, he reminds himself, but he brushes that thought off. Not now.
Beside him, Dean snorts. “Yeah, well. If you’d told any of those Renaissance guys that the real angels are dickhead balls of celestial intent, they’d’ve arrested you for heresy.”
Castiel shakes his head. “No.” he pauses. “Well, yes. But that’s—” he turns to face Dean for the first time. He notices Sam over Dean’s shoulder, focusing intently on a painting a few feet away and obviously pretending not to listen.
“My father—God—Chuck,” he cycles through, which will never not be weird, “created us first, but not in his image. We weren’t worthy of that. Only you were. Humans, his perfect creation, modeled after their creator. But then—” he turns back to the painting and gestures to it. “You created us in your image. You thought about divinity and you couldn’t conceive anything more Holy than yourselves.”
Dean shifts. He tries for a laugh, but it comes out short. “Well, damn, Cas. Way to make a guy feel self-centered.”
Castiel turns back to him. He blinks. He frowns. That’s not what he means. “Most of my siblings thought so,” he agrees. “But I always thought it was an honor. Look,” He turns again and reaches out for the painting, only remembering a few inches from its surface to not touch it. “This one has a lyre. You always paint us playing music. But music, art….these are human things, Dean.” He lets his hand fall, but keeps his eyes forward. “We’re soldiers. They don’t teach us to play the harp in Heaven, they train us to fight. But these angels are…soft. Kind. Angels you trust to protect. The kind of angels people pray to, build churches to.” He looks back at Dean, who is staring at him with a frown. He holds his gaze, steady, and takes a deep breath before finishing. “I wish I was—that any of us were—worthy of being depicted this way. I wish we were the angels you paint us as.”
There’s a long pause while Dean searches his face, obviously trying to decide on the right reaction. If they were at home, Cas thinks Dean might reach out and hug him. Instead, Dean reaches out to clap a hand on his shoulder—he lets it linger there, and Cas knows what it means, so that’s okay, too. “For what it’s worth,” he starts, and his voice is softer than the last time he spoke. “You’re the closest thing to those angels that I’ve ever seen.”
It’s a nice sentiment, but Cas smiles sadly as he turns back to the painting. “I’m not any kind of angel anymore,” he points out, and tries his hardest to keep his voice neutral.
Dean squeezes his shoulder and tilts his head, trying to recapture Castiel’s gaze. “Hey. Look at me.” Reluctantly, he looks back over. “Your wings weren’t what made you a good angel, alright?” he brings his other hand up to poke into Castiel’s chest. “That was all in here.”
He sounds like he’s quoting the Wizard of Oz, and Cas wants to make a joke about that, but he’s also never wanted to kiss Dean more. He doesn’t, because they’re in a museum, and they’re still working up to that, but he makes a note to do it later. Instead, he reaches up and pulls Dean’s hand away from his chest, links it in his own, and squeezes.
“Thank you,” he says, and it’s earnest, and it’s for everything.
Dean smiles. He understands. He squeezes back.
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I was wondering if you can write something about reader x marvel cast where they go on the tour bus with James Corden. Maybe reader is dating a costar (you can choose who)
We Are Avengers
Pairing: Marvel cast x reader, Sebastian Stan x Fem!reader
Summary: Basically what happens during James Corden’s Star Star Tour😌
Warnings: None :)
Hello darling, thank you for the request! I apologize that it took so long for me to write, but I’ve been busy with school and I’ve been lacking motivation in general. But thank you so much for this request, it gave me the chance to rewatch one of my favorite Marvel cast videos so thank you for that as well, it never fails to make me smile. I hope you don’t mind that I chose Seb as the co-star you’re dating! Also, yes, I know I’ve been writing a lot of headcanons but writing this as a headcanon seems like the best way to write it for me😭 I’m gonna add in some pictures that the cast took with their disposable cameras, so enjoy😉
(GIF from Pinterest)
✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧
When it was mentioned that you and some other members of the Infinity War cast were going to be on James Corden, you were very excited.
You enjoyed making appearances on late night talk shows; Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel—they were always fun to be on. Though you’ve always loved making appearances on James Corden’s show.
When you first heard about being on The Late Late Show, you were expecting to do a typical interview in the studio that would lead to playing a game later on in the show.
What you didn’t expect was to be led out to the parking lot with the rest of the cast, only to be greeted by a double decker bus with James’ face plastered alongside it.
At first you were all a bit confused but one of the producers came up to you all and explained the segment you were all filming.
Everyone was buzzing with exhilaration waiting to get on the bus. One by one you were called up, you being paired with Sebastian.
Wait, he would make you go up the stairs first so he can stay behind you, making sure you don’t fall. Omg and he would place his hand on your lower back too😭🥺
“Wow—Marvel’s own power couple, it’s such an honor to have you both on here. Thank you for coming!” James greeted the both of you. Partially acting because the cameras were rolling.
You and Sebastian beamed at him, proud of the title the fans and your cast mates have given you both over the years. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, James.”
James gives you both your name tags, pausing mid way while he was handing Seb his. James’ gaze shifts between you and Seb, “I’m sorry, you’re just both so beautiful.”
Seb bashfully thanks him, pulling you towards the seats, as you giggle behind him.
You and Seb sit towards the back, behind Don and Tom.
You all sit tight, talking amongst yourselves as you wait for the bus to start. In the seats were disposable cameras and some Late Late Show merch.
The bus hasn’t started driving yet, but you were all having too much fun with the disposable cameras.
Everyone was just taking pictures of each other. You and Seb took a couple selfies and some stolen shots of the others, mostly Anthony.
You even got a cute shot of Don and Tom:
Yes I know they used disposable cameras but I decided to tie in my ‘Polaroid’ series into this even though they’re not using Polaroids—just go with it😭
Being the more social one in the relationship, you were going up and down the aisle talking to everyone.
Seb stayed towards the back with Anthony and Winston. While you were at the front talking to Lizzie and Chris.
Being sad when you were all told to go sit down because you had to leave Lizzie.
Though it probably wasn’t shown in the video, I just KNOW that the filming for this segment was chaotic as fuck.
Chaotic in a good way.
But the whole bus was loud I just know it.
You could hear Mackie across from you talking loudly and laughing that contagious laugh of his.
You, Lizzie, Pom, and Zoe attempting to talk to each other from different spots on the bus over everyone else’s voice.
Chris and Paul can also be heard laughing all the way from the back.
James feeling like a parent because it felt like he was babysitting a bunch of toddlers.
The whole thing was freaking chaotic from the start, I mean ya’ll started the ‘tour’ with Benedict and Chris rubbing sunscreen on James’ legs.
Everyone passing around the sunscreen after, because it was sunny as hell and no one thought of wearing sunscreen.
Seb being a cheeky asshole and ‘accidentally’ smearing sunscreen across your face.
“Sebastian!” You gasped before a flash of light went off on you. When your eyes recovered from the flash you see Seb holding up a camera at you, snickering to himself.
James began to act as your guide, pointing out things like a coffee shop and explaining what it is.
All of you being childish and pretending to not know what a coffee shop or what a line is.
Laughing at Don when he got out of his seat and took a picture of the coffee shop. Like how he got into an over exaggerated position just to take a picture was funny.
Everyone being childish and acting as actual tourist in Los Angeles. Like pointing things out and asking about them or taking pictures of literally everything you drove by.
When Reggie Watts began that sing along thing everyone joined in, bopping and dancing along to the beat.
Like you guys are just having a really great time, happy to be in each other’s presence.
You could hear Sebby singing along to Reggie beside you, and you couldn’t help but just adore him singing and having fun.
He’d notice your stare, he may have had sunglasses on, but you could see the crinkle of his eyes from behind his sunglasses as he smiled at you.
“Na, na, na, na, na, na!” Seb repeated, leaning towards you to press a kiss on your temple.
Throughout the whole ride, he’d have his arm along the back of your seat or have it across your lap.
After the sing along, James went back to acting as a tour guide. He pointed to a red building—whatever it was—and deemed it as “Barbra Streisand’s holiday home”.
Josh Brolin, who was sat along at the back of the deck, raised his hand. “Excuse me! I—uh don’t mean to interrupt, but I have to use the bathroom. Can I use the bathroom?”
James pretending to cringe and telling him that in order to use the bathroom you have to be in three or more Marvel movies to use the bathroom—end credits don’t count.
Everyone being childish once again and yelling “OHHHHHHH!” Like a bunch of school kids.
James points to Tom, “Tom Hiddleston do you need the bathroom?”
Tom, with his soft voice and a small shrug says, “I’m actually okay!”
James then points to you and Seb, “My lovebirds at the back, Sebastian, (Y/n), do either of you need the bathroom?”
You and Seb glance at each other, “Nah we’re good.” Your boyfriend answers.
“Yeah, I used the bathroom before we came here.” You look behind your shoulder at Josh, a smug expression on your face, “Unlike some people.”
Josh flipping you off while everyone laughs at him.
Since Anthony and Seb aren’t sitting together, I just know that Anthony would be yelling at Seb from across the bus to get his attention.
No seriously, I saw them in the background of the video and even heard Mackie yelling lmao😭😂
“(Y/n) call Sebastian!” Anthony yelled at you from across the bus, pointing to the man beside you with a grin on his face.
You chuckle and nudge Seb, “Your boyfriend’s calling you.”
Seb would shake his head at you and turn his attention to Anthony; who just wanted to take a picture of Seb from his side of the bus.
James trying to get spoilers out of all of you but thankfully you all aren’t Tom Holland or Mark Ruffalo.
“Does anyone on this bus die in the next Avengers?” James asked. Suddenly you were all quiet, not a word coming out of any of you.
Until Paul began to scream his infamous line, “snITCHES END UP IN DITCHES!”
Getting confused when James suddenly asked the bus to stop and ran off the bus.
Next thing you know, you’re all hopping off the bus and walking into a comic store with a Spider-Man statue at the front.
Seb motioned to the statue and looked back and Anthony, “We gotta get a picture with that.”
Anthony instantly agreeing—he was willing to do anything to tease Tom Holland.
Seb’s not that huge with PDA, but he always needs to be touching you. So he’ll be interlocking your hands with his the moment you walk off the bus and all the way into the comic store.
Feeling thrilled to surprise the people who were shopping at the store.
You all walked around, mingled with some fans, taking selfies with them, and signed a few things.
You were looking at some Funko Pops with Lizzie when you felt a small tap on your leg.
You looked down to see a small girl looking up at you with wide eyes full of admiration. In her tiny hands was a Funko Pop of your character.
You and Lizzie instantly coo at the toddler, crouching down to her level so you can talk.
“Hey, sweetheart!” You greet her, taken back when she suddenly wraps her arms around you into a hug. You laugh wrapping your arms around her small figure and hugging her back.
“I love you so much!” She squeals into your ear, arms tightening around you. Your heart swelled as she excitedly babbled about how much she loved your character and how you were her favorite.
“I love you too! Oh my gosh, you’re so cute!” You decide to carry the toddler, who you later learned was named Lila. Her parents scolded her for distracting you from the other fans in the store, but you brushed them off, your attention focused on your tiny fan.
You carried her around while you met other fans and signed more comic books and merch.
You even introduced her to your other cast mates.
Sebastian’s heart absolutely melting at the sight of you with a baby.
Homie wants to wife you up one day and seeing you with a baby made his baby fever sky rocket.
“Lila, this is Sebastian! You know who he plays right?” You ask the toddler in your arms. Sebastian ducking a bit so he could hear her over the commotion in the store.
“Yeah, he’s the wiener soldier!” She replied. Both you and Seb had to hold back your laughs at her answer.
Lila bragging about how she loves you more than Sebastian.
Seb having to agree because he doesn’t wanna make a toddler cry.
Before you all left, you took pictures with Lila and her parents and signed a bunch of her merch.
^ the boys got their picture.
You guys get back on the bus only to come back to rolls of paper under your seats.
You all sang the “Avengers” song, singing screaming the lyrics dramatically.
Don and Anthony bringing on the vocals.
Before you guys get off the bus you all take a selfie together.
Leaving Chris Hemsworth on the bus and walking off the bus with your heart all warm and fuzzy because you had an amazing time with your boyfriend and your friends :)
This is so long holy shit
🏷 Tags ↴
*if there’s a line through your username, Tumbr won’t let me tag you*
Marvel Cast/ Avengers Tags
↪︎ @ximaginx @lozzypoz321 @sunwardsss @pokemonbong @pjokotlcmarvel201 @whoslili @111111111111111sblog @marvel-is-a-mood @blckyungblood @astroponyo @universemarvel @imthebadguyyy @roseke @bi-myself-forever @httpscarletwitch @millenniumloki @cristin-rjd @swords-are-cool @melaninfalconbucky @deamus-liv @elvish-sky @catsandbooksandsstuff @ellajoy419 @moonlight-babe99
Sebastian Stan Tags
↪︎ @theresnoplatypus @wintersoldierlover @peacelovehobbitness @milea @sunwardsss @thedenimjacket @roserose26
↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney @bi-lmg @rqmanoff @sesamepancakes @stardustofreading @dracoswhore007 @swiftmind
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The chosen one 🐉
Pairing: Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Warnings: It contains sexual content. Do not read if you’re uncomfortable with it. NSFW under the cut, since there’s a backstory before it.
Contains: Breeding kink, unprotected sex.
You could have sworn it would be another ordinary and boring day in your life. Well, it was until a woman you knew, accompanied by strange people invaded your house.
“You’re the chosen one” The elegant woman said, a cold atmosphere around her.
“The chosen one?” You asked confused, anxiety forming in the pity of your stomach. “I’m the chosen one for what, Ningguang?”
“I’m not the one who will tell you” She spoke harshly, before commanding some guards to manhandle you to somewhere you didn’t even know.
The journey was long. So long you had to sleep some days during the path until you arrived there. Many times you asked the people you were with what was all that about, only to be ignored or poorly treated. You just wanted everything to end. You just wanted to come back home. But with time you learned that being quiet was the best option. It wasn’t like none of them would give you a piece of information.
You arrived the place you were so curious about. It was beautiful. So beautiful you swore you could die in peace, the landscape imposing. The mountain was incredibly cold, however, the twisted trees with orange leafs were capable of bringing a warm sensation to your heart.
Your heart raced when you felt the guards dragging you towards the luxurious building. Pure gold now fogged your eyes. You weren’t used with richness. You always lived like a simple woman. You weren’t even dressed to enter a place like that.
“Please, please…” You pleaded, only to have your arms gripped with more cruelty as you passed by the golden door.
“Save it” Ningguang said, looking at you with disgust. “You are not here because I want. You’re here because that was what Rex Lapis asked for”
“Rex Lapis?” You never thought you would ever see Rex Lapis himself in front of you.
“Enough, Ningguang” A deep voice called. You couldn’t see the owner of it, anyway. “You brought her safely here. That’s what I asked you to do. You can leave now”
“But… Why her, Rex Lapis? There are many other woman more capable of giving you an heir out there in Liyue. Why did you chose her?”
“I don’t own you any satisfaction. I chose her because she’s the woman I want the most. You can leave now” The last four words were severely spoken, gaining a scoff of Ningguang.
“Tsk, pathetic” She whispered to you before turning around and leaving.
When the heavy golden door closed, leaving you and the oldest archon in the place, you felt a shiver run down your spine.
Giving Rex Lapis an heir?
That means you would carry his child?
You of all people?
Did he watched you someway?
That and another load of thoughts raced in your mind, making you dizzy.
“Don’t be scared and don’t let the anxiety blur your thoughts” The archon appeared out of nowhere right behind you, his voice making you squirm in your place.
You decided to stay quiet, afraid of bringing more trouble to yourself. All you could do was turn around and be taken aback by his beauty.
Golden and warm eyes, pale skin, an incredibly long hair in a dark shade of brown was completely free, the soft locks shaping themselves in his shoulders. His suit looked so neat you couldn’t even imagine how long it may have took to be washed and ironed. But what caught your attention the most was some scales that adorned some of his exposed skin and the horns. Gods, the horns. They were glistening with the help of the gold around the ambience.
“You look so astonished it hurts, (Name)”
He knew your name. He called you by your name. That would be an honor anyone would sacrifice themselves for.
“You… You know me?” That line carried admiration, devotion and fear. He smiled at you warmly before answering.
“More than you think. I have been watching you, my love. I have been watching you since you were born, to say at least. I’ve known from the very beginning I had to make you mine” Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I know all of this is overwhelming your senses, my queen. I’ll give you all the time you need to get used to this new life, home and me. All I want is your trust. I just need a confirmation that you will obey me and only me, could you do that for me, my love?”
You shivered once again. You hadn’t any choice, right? It wasn’t like you could fight him or escape that place. You didn’t had the strength to do so and deep inside, you didn’t want to. Your heart had belonged to him the first time he defended you from the poisoned words of his subordinates.
“I beg your pardon for what you’ve been through this journey to get here. Even if I gave them the instructions to treat you well, they are completely unqualified to treat a woman like you the right way”
“There’s no problem at all, Rex Lapis. It’s okay…” You said in a low tone, too overloaded from all that had happen to be happy at all.
“Call me Zhongli. I’m Rex Lapis to my subordinates, not for you, that is now my lover” One gold ring appeared in his slim fingers. “Will you be mine, (Name)?” Zhongli said politely, grabbing your ring finger with delicacy.
“I… I am already yours, Zhongli” You whispered, accepting the ring. It fitted perfectly well, surprising you one more time. Before you could process any more information, you felt his soft lips caressing yours, asking for permission. You kissed him back, sealing your love.
Some hours passed after everything that happened. Your anxiety was over the roof as you explored what would now be your new home.
Had you made a wise choice to just agree with what happened to you?
Perhaps it was one of the worst decisions you had taken in your entire lifetime.
Hopefully your future as Morax’s wife would be glorious?
Time would answer you.
You slept with him that night.
His bedroom was more imposing than the entire place combined. The giant bed was neatly done with the highest quality of silk sheets you had ever saw. The headboard was decorated with gold carvings and the furniture looked expensive.
After the hot bath you had took completely alone, since Zhongli wanted to give you some privacy and time to trust him, silk clothing was offered for you to change. That night you slept in the same bed as him, his strong arms holding you against his body.
Months passed since then, making you both get closer and more in love with each other. Until the night Zhongli had planned long ago arrived.
“Come here, love," Zhongli's deep voice called for you. Since the beginning, you were completely obedient to him. It was obvious you had fallen in love with Rex Lapis himself and you couldn't be more honored to be now his wife.
Your lingerie accentuated all the curves of your body. The silk kimono decorated with flowers completed the look, making your body look completely stunning to him. As you walked to the elegant bed, you could already feel your insides begging to be filled by him.
Sitting on his lap, you squirmed right above him, feeling his hardness. You both shared passionate kisses as you moved against his hips. Back and forth. Back and forth. You could almost hold in your hands the desire you shared for each other.
"Yes, babe. Just like that" Zhongli's lips pecked your neck with wet kisses, gaining gasps from you. Your hands went to his nape, holding his soft hair carefully to get more support.
"Ah!" You moaned when he found a soft spot of yours.
"That's one" His mouth sucked the skin of your breast, leaving purple marks that would take their time to fade away. His tongue swirled around your perked up nipple, gaining another moan from you.
"Zhongli..." You chocked out. "Don't stop, please" The devotion on your voice made his heart warm up.
He toyed with your breasts a little, just before changing positions with you. Now he was the one on top, tracing kisses all along your breasts, stomach and womb space, where he took his time loving.
"Soon our heir will be beared in here" Another kiss. "I'll made sure to breed you properly tonight, my love. You'll leave this bed pregnant or not at all" Zhongli spoke still lovingly, pure love and lust in his eyes.
His slim and cold fingers went to play with your sex right above the thin pantie, your slick making the cloth wet.
"So wet for me... So obedient... I knew you'd be the right one since the beginning..." He praised you, sliding his middle finger into you with ease, since you were so relaxed for him.
"Mhmm... Yes..." You pleaded for more friction, as the clothes you were using left your body.
The man took his time exploring your velvet walls, feeling every crevice you had.
A second finger was added, gaining a gasp from your now plump lips from his kisses. Scissoring movements made your back arch in pleasure and the tension in your stomach get bigger, begging to be released soon.
Zhongli used the pad of his fingers to stimulate your g-spot, only to bring your orgasm closer and closer.
"Li, please... Let me cum, please" You managed to say between gritted teeth, as your feet curved in pure pleasure.
"Cum for me, my queen. Give it all to me" His soft voice made the knot inside your stomach snap, making your walls start pulsing in a quick pace just to get slower and slower until it vanished only leaving pure endorphin running through your veins.
Zhongli soon entered you, after letting you enjoy your first high of that night. It was as if you had been made for each other. His length made you gasp in pain, but his golden eyes reassured you.
"I'm here, my love. I promise you will feel good. Just give it some minutes and the pain will fade away, alright?" You assented, your nails scratching his back skin slightly.
Some seconds passed, and his hips started moving against yours in a hard pace, making it difficult for you to stay still, his cock almost reaching your cervix with every thrust of his.
You moaned his name as you felt another orgasm getting closer to you, your legs enlacing his waist only to gain more contact.
A sheet of sweat covered your skin, as you felt your soul bonding to his more and more with the time you devoted yourself to him.
After long more minutes, Zhongli reached his climax, his pupils dilating, hands gripping your hips so tightly you were sure they'd be purple in some hours.
"Argh! 'Li... It hurts" You gasped. His eyes that once carried desire were clouded with worry.
"I'm sorry, my queen. I will more careful with you. Your body is too fragile compared to mine" He kissed your forehead delicately, still inside of you as a way to make his cum not ooze off you.
He gave you some time to recover from what you had done and when you were almost sleeping, he changed your positions, you now riding him.
"Love... I'm exhausted, I can barely move above you" You whispered.
"I will help you, my love" His strong hands now gripped your hips carefully, guiding your movements.
You were a mess above him, the overstimulation making you feel weak, however, your love and devotion were stronger.
You both spent that night sharing your love for each other. At the end of it all, you could barely walk, your body completely worn out.
Zhongli was by your side, looking at you worried.
“Did I push your limits too much, my dearest?"
"No, 'Li. I'm fine... I... I just don't feel my legs, is all" Both of you bursted in laughter.
"Oh my queen, that's the price of having to carry an heir"
You were sure his baby could be forming itself inside your womb right now, but your mind only wanted a hot bath and an entire day of sleep.
"Thank you, (Name). I looked after you not only to have your child, but also to have you as mine forever"
"The honor is all mine, Zhongli" You whispered just before getting carried bride-style to his bathtub to be cleaned up and sleep afterwards.
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Okay so my request. 🥺
Poly relationship between Ushijima x reader x Bokuto. Reader feels super neglected due to both of them having super busy volleyball schedules. Of course she knew this when she started dating them. But she still gets lonely and needy. Both himbos don’t realize it due to them being well himbos. It’s not until they notice her clingy to a player from one of the teams who gives her attention. They confront her and she breaks down and spills her heart out to them. They give her the long awaited attention she needs. Can it possibly be smut please? 🥺🥺🥺
I hope this is everything you’re looking for love. Thank you for requesting and sorry it took a couple days. Please, enjoy. ❦
〈You know Bokuto and Ushijima are busy men, but the longer you’re away from them, the larger the ache becomes
〷 This piece contains haikyuu time skip spoilers 〷
❈ genre: Angst/Comfort, NSFW 18+ (Minors DNI)
❈ warnings: anxiety/insecurities, Poly Relations (Reader x Bokuto Koutarou x Ushijima Wakatoshi), size kink, dom/sub dynamics, make-up sex.
It wasn’t like they were ignoring you on purpose. Bokuto and Ushijima would never do such a thing. Usually, they were so good at giving you all the attention you needed, checking up on you and asking about your day even after long practices or games.
But things had gotten really busy for your two boyfriends as volleyball season was back in full swing. Playing for the Japanese national team left little time for leisure, leaving you to an empty house that usually was always filled with Bokuto’s laughter or the sound of Ushijima’s rock music. Your days were filled with checking empty group chats, rushing home to make dinner only to find you were the only one eating it, and barely managing to stay awake when the front door finally opened.
It was starting to be too much for you. And you needed them oh so badly. Some night you tried wearing Bokuto’s shirt with your fingers buried deep between your thighs only to find they weren’t long enough to reach your good spots. Or you’d call out Ushijima’s name louder and louder hoping it would bring you closer to a high but it always fell flat.
You started to give up from frustration, actually felt yourself avoiding mirrors or even their touch. You didn’t deserve it, didn’t want to see. Maybe they were doing this on purpose, maybe this was their way of telling you that you weren’t enough for them anymore. Maybe there was someone else, prettier and younger and more bubbly.
There was that one pretty girl who was always conveniently at their practices...
The thoughts began to weigh on you. Made you feel like in your little house of three you didn’t really belong. But you weren’t sure how to bring it up to the boys, not when they were working so hard, and certainly not when they were exhausted every time they came home. So you just kept it all in your chest, letting it build and grow and spread.
All you wanted to do on your day off was stay in bed, allow the covers to swallow you whole so you didn’t have to think about anything. But Bokuto insisted you get up, that grin on his face that usually had you grinning right back.
“Cmon Birdy! Come watch us today! The rest of the boys will be happy to see you too!”
Normally you would have been thrilled at the opportunity, spending the whole day watching your men do what they loved so much. But with everything you’ve been feeling it was hard. Still, you tried your best to match that grin of his, rolling out of bed and getting ready so you could go to their joint practice.
You sat where you usually did, on the first bleacher, front and centre. You were usually so engaged, cheering them on when they hit a particularly good spike or bringing them water when they needed, but today you found yourself distracted. Eyes wandering to the ceiling or fiddling with the hem of the skirt you wore.
You hadn’t even noticed the stranger that sat beside you, just how close he’d gotten. You were taken more back when he spoke so close to your ear, making you jump a little in your seat.
His laughter was so warm. Smooth and thick like honey. You didn’t recognize him, but boy was he handsome. Dark features, light eyes, a smile with a perfect set of teeth. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you pretty.”
Pretty— did he really think you were pretty? Not wanting to seem more like a dunce you forced words from your lips, a little nervous giggle following suit. “I-I was totally zoned out, you didn’t scare me too bad, promise.”
He was staring, and normally this would have made you uncomfortable. Normally you would have told a handsome stranger right away that you were happily taken. But the longer he stared the tighter you pressed your thighs together, the deeper your flush became. You basked in it, the attention you were so craving from your two boyfriends...
“You must be new, I’d recognize a beautiful face like yours.” Another clench of your thighs. You were biting your lip and then his hand was on your thigh. This is where you’d usually slap someone, or call your much larger partners to handle it. But you couldn’t take your eyes off his. And right now you didn’t want to, not when his thumb felt so smooth on your skin.
“What’s your name? And phone number, if your willing of course.”
He was wearing a jersey, one didn’t recognize. Maybe from an opposing team? You just giggled again, tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Words were on the tip of your tongue when a heavy hand fell on your shoulder. The male's hand all but flew off your thigh, his eyes a bit narrowed as the all too familiar voice sounded behind you.
“Baby, come with me.” Ushijima’s voice didn’t waver, in fact, it was deeper than usual, laced with an emotion you couldn’t quite point out. Looking towards the court you saw Bokuto too, thick brows furrowed and arms crossed. Your lips twisted in a thin line as you stayed still a moment, only for Ushijima to easily haul you to your feet.
“I said. Come.” There was a demand, one that had the frustration bubbling on your features. You tore yourself away from his grip but still stormed out of the bleachers. Bokuto was quick to follow, easily picking up with your pace and walking to your side.
“Baby... what was that...”
“Right in front of us too? Just disrespectful.” Ushijima spoke, now on your other side.
You could feel them, the hot and angry tears that began to swim in your gaze as you stormed towards an empty room. The two continued to talk, trying to understand. You never flirted so openly with others, especially didn’t let them touch you. They wanted answers, needed to know why.
But as soon as the door closed behind you, you snapped.
“It was nice getting attention for once you know!”
That shut them up quickly. Bokuto looked downright shocked, lips held open in a silent gasp while Ushijima still held that blank expression of his. He was going to be the first one to speak but you cut him off, finally letting the tears slip-free.
“I know you two are busy! I know that I signed up for it. But it’s been too much— I’ve been so so lonely... and no one ever seems to notice! Neither of you! I just— I miss my boys, I miss you two so much and it’s not fair... it’s not fair to feel this lonely when I have you both...”
Your voice faded with a small crack, the tears now pooling from your eyes. You tried your best to wipe them away, body beginning to tremble as all the feelings hit you at once. You felt bad yelling at them, seeing their looks of shock. But it was now or never, you had to get it out.
Arms were around you, and you had to blink out a couple tears to realize it was Ushijima who had pulled you in so close. One of his large palms cupped the back of your head, pressed you into his chest with a small little hum.
“Love... sorry you’ve been feeling this way—“
“Why didn’t you just tell us Birdy! We love you so much you know!” Bokuto was quick to follow suit, joining in on the hug which only seemed to make you more emotional. Finally being encased in their warmth, feeling their arms over yours. It was everything you had been wanting.
“I-I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.. and then I just got in my head... I thought maybe you two d-didn’t want—“
“Shush...” Ushijima murmured, not even allowing you to finish that sentence. He pulled away just enough so you could look both of them in the eyes. Bokuto was giving you a small little smile, hoping it would make those tears of yours go away, while Ushijima just sighed, smoothed his palm over your cheek to wipe away tears with his thumb.
“Baby, we love you so much, please don’t ever doubt that okay?” He made sure you nodded before continuing. “We’re sorry, sorry for making you feel unwanted.”
“So so sorry Birdy! I just love ya— well of course we both do but, I just love ya so so much!” Bokuto said with enthusiasm, his smile growing when you let out a little giggle. You wiped away the remainder of your tears, chest a bit shaky as you looked between your two boys. You could see, how genuinely sorry they were. You knew deep down that they would never stop loving you, but hearing it, seeing it on their faces, made the weight that had been sitting in your chest lift.
“I love you both... love you, Bo, love you Ushi...”
“Tonight will be all about you pretty bird, all night just for you,” Bokuto said, pulling you back into a hug that you happily got swallowed into. Ushi nodded in agreement, his palm smoothing over the back of your head as you swayed in Bokuto’s embrace.
❦ ❦ ❦ ❦
The evening really had been all about you. From the way Bokuto carried you bridal style into your shared apartment, to the way Ushijima had slowly stripped you in front of the full-length mirror, murmuring in your ear all his favourite parts of your lovely body. Now you were situated in Ushijima’s lap, naked body covered in a light layer of sweat as your chest rose and fell at a quick pace.
“P-Please Sir, want more, need more.” Your voice was nothing more than a whine that was easily shushed by Ushijima. His thick thighs tensed a bit around your own, pulling your legs further apart in the process. “Be patient baby girl, want you to feel every inch of Daddy’s cock.”
Bokuto was struggling to go slow as well, the urge to just thrust wildly into your perfect cunt filling his chest. The look Ushijima shot him told him to keep up this slow pace, for you. So he went in just another inch, making the two of you groan in unison.
“That’s it...” Ushijima’s voice was huskier than usual, large hand palming at your chest as he nodded His eyes were glued to your splitting pussy. “Another inch Bo, just one.”
And it went on just like that until Bokuto’s hips kissed the backs of your thighs, his head rolled back in a pleased moan as you squirmed in Ushijima’s grip. “Beautiful...” Ushi mumbled, his palm slithering down your body to rest on the bulge left in your stomach by Bokuto’s cock. You whimpered at the touch, cheeks feeling hot as his hand slid down to your pussy, traced the way your lips stretched around Bokuto’s throbbing length.
“You’re so stretched around Daddy’s cock baby, you see that? See how Bo can just split you open?” He took hold of your jaw with his free hand, making sure you were looked down at your full pussy. “S-see it Sir, and it feels so good.”
“Fuck yeah it does, this pretty pussy was made for me.” Bokuto rumbles out, his muscles tensing as he suddenly jutted his hips, his tip slapping against your cervix and making you yelp. Ushijima tsked at that, brows furrowing a bit as he snatched one of Bokuto’s hands, made him press it into the place where you and him met. “You need to be patient to Bo, just appreciate how little our baby is, how her perfect cunny stretches just for us. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Bokuto was basically drooling, his fingers pressing along the bulge on your tummy, the one he made. He licked his lips, before a grin curled on his handsome face. “It’s so so wonderful, the best fucking cunt ever. Going to fill you up over and over again tonight pretty girl, make sure you're stuffed absolutely full of Toshi and I so you never doubt again just how much we love you.”
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you have a nightmare that they cheated on you
characters: akaashi + iwaizumi + oikawa + (gn!reader)
request: hi! can I request a headcanon where akaashi, iwaizumi, and oikawa wake up to you having a nightmare that they cheated on you? something fluffy please 🙏🏼🥺 • by @vitamingummies
warnings: mentions of cheating ig but it doesn’t actually happen obvi– + a lil bit of angst
notes: hope u enjoy <3 i tried to make them all a bit different! (i don’t think i’ll do anymore of these tho cause i feel like i’ve run out of possibilities for it to go)
akaashi stirred awake slightly when he felt you moving around on your side of the bed
he was half asleep, drifting in and out
and he felt the bed dip as you got up, which he assumed meant that you were going to the bathroom
but once he realized it’d been a while since you left, he checked the time, 3am
he got up to go look for you, wiping his eyes sleepily
he went to the bathroom and frowned when the lights were off and you were nowhere to be found
he slugged off to the kitchen, then the living room and was shocked to see you sitting there in the dark, wrapped up in a blanket
“baby?” his voice was deep and groggy as he padded over to you, yawning before continuing. “what are you doing out here?”
you noticed him, but didn’t look up, trying to hide your face from him, which, even in his drowsy state, he knew was a bad sign.
he bent down in front of you and felt the fatigue jump out of his body when he realized you had tears falling down your cheeks. “what’s wrong? what happened?” he brought his hands to your cheeks and tried to wipe the tears, but more kept falling seemingly at a faster rate once he touched you.
he tried to catch your eye, but you wouldn’t let him. “come on baby, please talk to me? i’m not going anywhere until i figure out what’s wrong.”
he sat down next to you and pulled you into his lap, making sure the blanket was secure before holding you tight and running his hand up and down your side soothingly.
when your cries had reduced to sniffles and you calmed down a bit, you spoke up, playing with the collar of akaashi’s shirt to distract yourself. “i just...it’s stupid––”
he interrupted immediately, “of course it’s not stupid, if it made you this upset then we should talk about it. i wanna make sure you’re alright, okay?”
you nodded and swallowed, psyching yourself up to reveal everything to him. “well i––i had a dream, no, a nightmare really,” you laughed humorlessly. “where you um...you left me? well that was after you cheated on me but...” you felt him take a deep breath, “it just felt so real, you know? it hurt like a lot and then i woke up because it was so painful and i guess...the emotions carried through even after i left the dream.” you sighed, “i’m sorry i didn’t mean to worry you, i just...i don’t know, i needed to clear my head, i guess.”
a few seconds passed before you felt a gentle hand under your chin, raising your head. you finally looked into akaashi’s eyes and he spoke up. “baby, i’m sorry that you experienced that, even if it was just a dream. just hearing about it hurts me too.” he swiped his thumb over your cheek and you nuzzled into his touch. “but know that i would never ever do that to you, i could never hurt you like that and i won’t, okay?” he waited for you to nod in agreement before nodding as well and pulling you into a hug. “i’m here to love and protect you, remember that.” he kissed your cheek but didn’t let you out of the hug.
“are you better now?” again, he waited for you to nod. “let’s go back to bed, yeah?” he hugged you tight. “i’m not letting you go tonight.”
iwaizumi grunted, confused when he felt you moving around more than usual behind him,
no longer wrapped around him with one leg over his waist like how you had fallen asleep
when he heard you mumble a few things under your breath, he thought maybe you were just dreaming
but when he heard a whimper of his name, followed by “please no––”
he turned around immediately, and turned on his bedside lamp, concerned and alert
he noticed that your face looked like it was in pain, like you were hurt
he put a hand on your cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb
“wake up sweetheart.”
you shook your head from side to side, seemingly wrestling with what you were seeing in your nightmare
he kissed your forehead, “come on, come back to me. open your eyes for me baby.”
he shook your side a few times and you finally opened your eyes, but he frowned when he noticed the pain still hadn’t left your face
his eyes widened when you suddenly threw yourself into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck, sniffling as you blinked the tears away. he wrapped his arms around you immediately, “hey it’s okay, i’m here. you’re safe.”
he rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly and whispered reassuring things in your ear, kissing your temple every now and then.
after a few minutes of holding you, he spoke up. “do you wanna tell me what happened in your nightmare? i’m right here, nothing bad’s gonna happen i promise.”
your hand came up to hold the side of his jaw and neck and you sat up slightly, but he made sure to keep you secure and not let you run off, not that you were going to. “um...well i was coming over to your house cause we had a date night planned...” you trailed off slightly and felt his hand rub your thigh reassuringly. you sighed, “the door was unlocked so i came in, and i noticed another girl’s shoes in by the door?” you felt him stiffen under you but you went on. “so i went to find you, to ask you about it...but when i got to your room, you were...on top of her, and you can...fill in the blanks i’m guessing...”
he opened his mouth to say something but you spoke before he could. “and you don’t have to apologize or anything, i know it wasn’t you and you wouldn’t do that...it just felt real and that really hurt me. but i’m sure i’ll get over it soon.” you tried to smile but it felt like a grimace more than anything and iwaizumi sighed. you mistook it for annoyance and your eyes widen, “oh i’m sorry, you’re probably tired, i’ll just––”
you tried to get off his lap but he stopped you, confused. “no, darling i don’t care what time it is, this is important. i only sighed because i don’t like how you’re pretending to be okay when you’re not.” he put a hand under your chin, “it’s okay if you’re not okay. but i’m here for you, to help you feel better, yeah?” he kissed your nose lightly. “you have nothing to apologize for, and i know you said i don’t either, but i’m sorry that i hurt you, even if it was in a dream.”
you smiled for real this time and kissed his cheek, making him blush lightly. “you’re too sweet to me, you know that?”
his brows furrowed, “not possible.” he gave you a quick peck on the lips and lied you back down on the bed with a small smile before turning off the light. he slid back in with you and put his arm around your waist to pull you close. “you ready to sleep?”
you nodded, “do you mind cuddling me until i fall asleep?”
“of course not, but you’re funny if you think i’m letting you go at all, even in my sleep.”
oikawa was sleeping peacefully, rolling over to wrap his arm around you and pull you close and his brows furrowed when you swung his arm back to his side, but he stayed asleep
he kept sleeping even after you repeated this three more times
but when you did it one more time, this time with more force, he whined and blinked his eyes open slowly
“y/n-chaaan, let me hold you~”
you simply huffed and kept staring in front of you, into the darkness of your room, your arms and legs crossed as you sat up against the headboard
you don’t even know how long you’d been awake, it was 4am, but you couldn’t be bothered to care
as soon as you saw oikawa with his tongue down another girl’s throat, while she sat in his lap, you were so mad you couldn’t think
...this was in a dream of course, and you know that––
but it still pissed you off
“wha––” oikawa leaned up on one arm to get a better look at you and make sure he wasn’t imagining things. “what are you doing up?” he turned his head to look at the clock on the nightstand, “wh––four a.m??” he turned back to you dramatically, and while normally you would’ve found it amusing, today was a different day.
you felt oikawa drag himself to a sitting position as he stared at you frantically and utterly confused. “what is going on here??” when you didn’t respond, his shoulders drooped down and he placed a hand on your thigh which you quickly slapped off. he squawked, “baby??–”
“you don’t get to call me that.”
his head bobbed back, offended. “what do you mean?! what happened in the hours that i was asleep?”
again, you stayed silent and of course, he kept talking. “y/n-chan you can’t just not tell me what’s wrong, this is outrageous!”
you sat there, brewing in your annoyance for a few moments before cutting off his rant, voice completely monotone. “you cheated on me.”
there was a brief silence, a moment of processing before he exploded. “i’m sorry, what?! i most certainly did not! what are you talking about ?! i am loyal!”
you shrugged, only fueling the fire and his eyes widened. “what do you mean?” he imitated your shrug mockingly, “where did you get this insane theory from?!”
he was talking far too loud for 4am, and you did not want a visit from the neighbors. “tooru––”
“tooru?! who is that?! i’m baby! love! your loyal boyfriend! soon to be husband when we’re ready!––”
you finally turned to him, “you’re being too loud! it’s four am––”
he glared but lowered his voice, maybe a fraction. “y/n-chan you are not gliding over your preposterous accusation like this––why on earth do you think i cheated?!”
you blinked, unfazed. “i saw it.”
“that’s impossible because it never happened!”
“yes it did! i saw your tongue go down her fucking throat and your hands were all over her and she was in your lap, tooru. that’s why i woke up because i saw it and i got mad. how dare you do that––”
“i’m telling you that never happened! i don’t know who you saw but it wasn’t––wait.” he blinked a few times and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. his eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. “did you say you saw it and you woke up? are you talking about a dream??”
you clenched your jaw, “more like nightmare but that’s irrelevant, the point is you cheated–”
“y/n-chaaan––” he threw himself on you and wrapped his arms around you, ignoring your protests. he placed his head on your lap and looked up at you, with a pout. “you scared me! i thought you were really mad at––”
“i am mad at you.”
“what?! but it wasn’t even real!”
“dream tooru and real tooru are basically the same.”
“when are you going to stop calling me that?” he frowned, giving you puppy dog eyes and you groaned, slapping a hand over his face (gently), but he still yelped anyways.
“don’t look at me like that.”
he took your hand off and kissed your palm softly. “why, is it working?”
you sighed and looked away. “...i know it wasn’t real but it still hurt seeing you like that, you know? that’s why i was so annoyed––it wasn’t even real but it still affected me so much.”
he sat up against the headboard and pulled you into his lap, pleased to see you weren’t complaining. you placed your hands on his shoulders and kept your eyes down, focused on his chest. he squeezed your waist and ducked his head down to peck your lips, smiling victoriously when it made you smile.
“i would never be as dumb as dream me and throw our precious relationship away, i love you way too much and value having you in my life far too much to do something like that.” he kissed your cheek, “you’re it for me, got it?”
you nodded, looking up into his eyes to see how serious he was. you could see the love he had for you. “okay...i love you baby.”
he smiled, “i love you too. so much.” he kissed you on the lips gently. “now can we please cuddle? we both need our beauty sleep.”
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Supercorptober 2021 Day 7: Party
Fic link. Series link.
Lena’s hiding. This is technically her party, she should be out there, talking to the CatCo employees and various party guests, but here she is, hiding in her best friend’s office to avoid any awkward social interactions. Or, more specifically, to avoid having to talk to one person in particular.
At least Kara’s office is a safe space where she shouldn’t be found.
Lena knows she can’t hide in here forever, but for now, she’s going to take advantage of being alone.
She hopes no one has noticed her absence.
No sooner has she had that thought, when the door handle turns and she suddenly finds she’s not alone anymore. She holds her breath for a moment, but then Kara is there, and all the worry turns to relief as she finds her best friend in the doorway, blue eyes filled with concern.
“There you are, is everything okay?”
It does stupid things to her heart that Kara noticed she was missing.
“I’m fine,” Lena smiles. “I just needed a moment.”
“Can I join you?” Kara asks, waiting for Lena’s nod before she steps into the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
“It is your office, after all,” Lena adds, eyes on Kara as she crosses the small room, ends up perched on the edge of her desk.
“Do you want to talk about why you’re hiding in here?” Kara asks after a long moment. She’d wondered if her best friend would let it go. Apparently not.
Lena sighs, but if you can’t talk about this sort of thing with your best friend, then who can you talk about it to? Sure, she’s in love with said best friend, but that’s besides the point right now.
“James asked me out.”
Lena can’t look at Kara as she says it, eyes focused on the twisted fingers in her lap, but when the small “oh” falls from Kara’s mouth, Lena looks up, catching the ripple of Kara’s jaw.
“So…umm…how come you’re hiding in here then?”
“We got interrupted before I could answer this morning, and ever since he’s been trying to talk to me, so I’ve been avoiding him.” The party had started fine, but that was only because James hadn’t arrived yet. But of course he’d be here, he is CatCo’s CEO after all, and she’d spent the first hour of the party after he’d arrived, strategically moving around the room, all the while keeping an eye out for James and avoiding him.
“And you’re avoiding him because…?”
“He looked so hopeful when he asked, I just feel bad saying no and I don’t want to lose him as a friend.”
She’s sure she’s just imagining the way Kara’s shoulders relax.
Usually, she’d have no problem saying no to unwanted advances, but she actually likes James, not in the romantic sense, but she likes working with him, likes being a part of Kara’s group of friends, and she doesn’t want something like this to put it in jeopardy.
“I considered saying yes,” Lena finds herself admitting too. “It’s nice to feel wanted for once, but it wouldn’t be fair to him and I’d only be stringing him along.” Another reason she’d almost said yes was because she’d wondered if that’s what she’d needed, to get over Kara, to throw herself into another relationship, but that’s not fair to any of them either.
And honestly, she’s content with her life, happy having Kara in it just as she is, as a friend, even if that’s all they’ll ever be.
“I don’t know if I ever told you this, but James and I were nearly a thing, before I realised we should just be friends. And we’re still friends now. He’s a good guy, he’ll understand and accept your decision if you tell him no.” Kara pauses. “And if he doesn’t, then I can deal with him for you,” she grins, clenching her fists, looking ready to fight. “I can even throw him off this planet, if you like.”
Lena laughs, already feeling better. “That won’t be necessary but thank you.” Her smile falls as she sighs. “I suppose we should get back out there.”
Lena lifts an eyebrow. “Or?”
“Or we steal as much food as we can carry and sneak out. We can go back to my place, eat food, and have a party of our own.”
“I should really go and talk to James.” She already feels bad, avoiding him, she should just go and talk to him, get it over with. Knowing Kara is here helps.
Kara gives her a small smile “Okay,” she nods. “New plan, you go and talk to James, I’ll get the food, and we’ll meet back here in ten and we can go back to my apartment and watch a movie and eat food until we feel sick?”
Lena laughs. “Sounds like a plan.” She figures she’s made enough of an appearance at this party anyway.
She finds James easy enough in the crowd and the conversation is quick and painless and she should’ve just done this earlier as he smiles and nods at her answer.
She makes her way back to Kara’s office, talking to a few people on the way, and when she returns, she finds a mountain of food sitting on Kara’s desk, her best friend standing beside the pile, looking uncharacteristically nervous as fingers adjust her glasses.
Lena’s never seen Kara ignore food when it’s right there.
“Is everything okay?” Lena asks.
“I…” Kara swallows, glancing through the open door, so Lena steps inside and closes it, giving them some privacy once more.
“You said something earlier,” Kara starts again, fingers now twisting together in front of her. “You said it’s nice to feel wanted, like it doesn’t happen often, but I want you.” Lena’s breath catches. “It might not be the best time to say it, maybe I should’ve told you months ago, or maybe I should have never have told you at all, but I want you, and I wish I had the courage to just ask you out like James did.”
“You want…” Lena breathes, she can’t even get the words out, it just doesn’t make sense. She never imagined that Kara might want this too.
“I want you,” Kara says, nerves from before gone, words said loud and clear, ringing through the small room. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”
Kara’s been brave, Lena can be brave too. “You already have me,” she says, stepping into Kara’s space, hands rising to cup Kara’s cheeks. “You’ve always had me.”
“Can I kiss you?” Kara whispers into the small gap between them, blue eyes so close.
Lena’s not sure how they got here from her hiding in this very office, hiding from the advances of someone else, but she’s not going to complain as she nods.
This is everything she’s ever wanted.
Kara’s nose bumps into hers in the next moment and it’s a little clumsy, but no less perfect when Kara’s lips meet hers, warm and gentle. Lena hums into the kiss, relaxes into Kara’s embrace as hands land on her hips, as Kara crowds her against the desk so she’s surrounded completely by her best friend.
Though, this isn’t exactly best friend behaviour.
“I want you too,” Lena breathes into the kiss. She’s not sure she exactly said it before, but she wants Kara to know to. “I love you.”
Kara pulls away then, but not before Lena feels the way Kara’s lips curve up against her own. “You love me?” she grins. “Rao, this really is the best evening ever.”
Lena laughs. “Are you sure that’s not the big pile of food behind you?”
Kara barely spares the food a glance before soft eyes are back on her. She shakes her head. “Definitely this.” She peaks Lena’s lips. “And I love you, too.”
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