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moon-rivr · 4 months

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I need a fic about Miguel lusting after nurse fem!reader! I imagine he got hurt around her apartment and being that he is Spider-Man and she is a nurse she decides to take him into her apartment and fix him up. She is so caring and kind to he and this starts to become a thing where spider-man gets her to heal him.

So Miguel never reveals his identity to her but he’s like falling hard for her. Like thinking about her all the time (especially when he is in the shower lol). Let’s say one day he’s feeling like a little under the weather so he decides to go to where she works to get a check up and medicine (and hopefully to see her outside of his costume for once) so when he finally sees her he’s trying to charm her flirt a bit like he does when he’s behind the mask, but she is not having it. She acts cold and disinterested because one, guys flirt with nurses all the time and two, she has feelings for spider-man. Then you can do what you want with the ending but I would like if they get together in the end maybe you can squeeze some NSFW in there. Honestly this might make a pretty cute series!

little nurse

pairing: miguel o’hara x nurse fem reader

contents: mentions of blood/injuries and masturbation (m)

author’s note: decided to split this up into two parts, i hope you don’t mind :) very limited medical knowledge btw (one szn of grey’s anatomy and dr mike accounting for that 😖)

word count: 4.1K

Miguel O'Hara appeared in your life out of thin air. Literally.

You were trudging home from work around eleven at night, your scrubs smelling like disinfectant and dark circles adorning your under eyes. You'd been looking forward to taking a shower and getting as much sleep as you could before your next shift, your plans completely shifting when someone dropped in front of you. A masked man landed in front of you, clad in a Spider-Man costume. The sleep that you were longing for quickly faded away, replaced by a feeling of concern as you kneeled over to see if he had fractured his spine or his head with the fall. "How many fingers am I holding up?" You asked, holding up three as you waited for some kind of assurance that he was awake.

After receiving no response from the man, you dragged him into your apartment to work on him inside. You were grateful to whatever entity there was above that you lived in a downstairs apartment, the task of taking the man inside proving more difficult than you'd originally thought. You let out a small huff as you dragged him onto the rug in the center of your living room, shutting the door afterwards. You looked down at the man, almost tempted to take off the mask and reveal who was underneath the Spider-Man mask. After more careful consideration, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea while he was in such a vulnerable position and grabbed your phone from your purse.

You'd gotten some old blouses that you were planning on throwing away, using them as a tourniquet around his stomach to stop the bleeding. You pressed two fingers to his neck to try to feel for a pulse, a bit slow but at a steady rhythm. After making sure his heartbeat was stable, you pressed your head down to your chest to listen for his breathing, the sound coming out ragged. "Stay with me, please," you silently whispered as your bloody fingers typed away at your phone screen, opening up the phone app. You'd finished up typing up the final one of the emergency number, a large gloved hand stopping you from answering the dispatcher on the other line.

"No, no. Please don't do that," the masked man underneath you pleaded as he slowly started to regain consciousness. You were made aware that not only would he run the risk of getting his identity exposed, but he'd also run the risk of having the nypd arrest him for the crimes he's committed as a vigilante. "Now do you understand why I can't go to the hospital?" He asked, almost like he wanted to make sure what stood at stake for him. "Okay, I'll trust you for now. But if you start bleeding out in my living room, then I'll take you to the hospital. Does that sound good?" You answered reluctantly, watching as he nodded.

You grabbed some gloves from one of your kitchen drawers, kneeling down next to him as you reached for the zipper on the back. "Do you mind if I take this off?" You asked, wanting to get his approval before you got started on anything. "Whatever you need to do to me, doc," he answered, sitting a bit up so you could reach the zipper better. You zipped down his suit, pulling it off his arms and sliding it down to his stomach. "How's your head? You hit it pretty hard when you fell," you asked him, wanting to get a better assessment of how his health was. You felt around his stomach, trying to find if there was any internal bleeding but you knew that the results would be more accurate with a CT scan.

"My head's fine, just a bit of blindness in my right eye," he deadpanned, your eyebrows practically shooting up to your hairline as you turned to look at him. "I'm joking, doc. I'm all good," he added, a small chuckle following after. "I'd smack you if your ribs weren't probably broken right now," you muttered, getting up from the floor to grab a suture kit from your bedroom. Only the sounds of his breathing could be heard as you worked on the large gashes covering most of his abdominal region, steady fingers working the needle through the thread to stop any further bleeding. You wiped away at some of the dried blood, cleaning him up to the best of your ability before pressing your hands down on his stomach to see if he had any further pain.

"I don't have any strong meds at my house, I only have Tylenol so I hope that works for you," you announced as you looked over at your medicine cabinet, surprisingly empty for the line of work that you'd chosen. "Give me the prognosis, doc. How long do I have to live?" he asked as you handed him the bottle of pills with a glass of a water. "I'm not a doctor, just a nurse. And I'd say a couple more minutes, if you're lucky. Might last longer if you don't annoy me as much," you teased him back, grabbing a couple bandages to finish up with the job. You wrapped them around the places where you placed the stitches, making him a little first aid kit just in case he'd need it. "If your stitches pop out or anything, just come back here. You know where I live."

He pulled the zipper back on, grabbing the first aid kit from you before he headed towards the door. "I'll see you next time I get hurt, little nurse," he told you, making it seem more like a promise than a goodbye. "Try not to make this a daily thing, please," you responded before he had the chance to leave, the eyes of his mask slightly raising. "I can't make any promises, lindura," he swung away after he finished speaking, sticking to the building in front of your apartment complex. You couldn't help but look out at him as he left, watching the way that he maneuvered the webs to the best of his ability despite the injuries that he'd sustained.

Miguel continued to seek you out as his nurse every time that he got hurt after that, enjoying the small banter and jokes between the two of you. Getting to be around you once more felt like the highlight of every fight that he got into, the assurance that you would be there to patch him up giving him the motivation that he needed to get up and fight crime. Despite the small jabs that you took at him, you proved to care about him time and time again with each wound that you treated. You never asked him any questions about his identity, never made him out to be anything bigger than what he had to be. Despite the fact that he wore the mask around you, he'd never felt more exposed around a human being in his life before.

Miguel found himself to be distracted by the thought of just seeing you again, constantly. He found himself wanting to get hurt just so he'd have an excuse to need your assistance, to have your soft hands running across his flesh as you stitched him up. His attention wasn't diverted only when he was dressed up as Spider-Man, the affection that he held towards you following him all the way to the lab he worked at. He'd mixed up two chemicals that he shouldn't have, causing a negative reaction in one of the rats that he was testing on and having to discard his experiment completely. "Focus, O'Hara. We're not here to pick up after your messes," his co-worker and superior, Aaron Delgato, told him during lunchtime with that same stupid smug expression he always carried on his face.

Normally, Miguel would've had something to respond back with but he couldn't find it in him to care that much at the moment. "Yeah, yeah," he ended up muttering back, pushing away his concerns as he sipped at the bitter coffee from the cafeteria. Normally the bitter taste of the coffee would've made him spit out the substance, the taste becoming slightly better when you were at the forefront of his mind. Instead of throwing it away after the first sip, he ended up taking a couple more sips before throwing it away in the sink. He spent the day at work focusing on his reports, having to stay a bit later to make up for the work that he'd messed up earlier just so he wouldn't have to deal with Aaron's condescending comments and stupid smirk as he questioned Miguel's ability to work the job he did.

He got home at around 6:30, two hours after his shift ended. The sound of door closing echoed throughout the empty halls of his home, the environment completely devoid of anything homely apart from a couple pictures and a bookshelf full of scientific journals that he'd enjoyed. He stripped away from his clothes once he got into his bedroom, wanting to remove himself from the lab as much as possible. He got into the shower before he had to head out for his vigilante duties, knowing that he knew would be too tired to do so when he got back home. The cold stream of water hit his muscles as he stood underneath, putting his forehead against the cold tiles of the wall. He felt depraved as he thought about you while he stood here, feeling himself grow more and more ashamed as he resisted the urge to wrap his hand around his cock.

Eventually, he ended up giving into his desires and wrapped his fingers tightly around his cock. He closed his eyes to help him envision a scenario with you, his mind running through with images of you underneath him. His grip on his cock tightened, wanting to replicate the feeling of what your cunt would feel like. He smeared some of the precum leaking out of his tip all around his shaft with his thumb, letting out a small hiss as he felt himself growing more aroused with every second that passed. He started off slow, wanting to prolong this orgasm as much as possible.

He pictured you starting off by sticking your tongue out for him as you sat on your knees underneath him, doe eyes looking at him expectantly as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Your mouth would engulf around the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it to capture every drop of precum that leaked out. His thumb ran around his tip to simulate every aspect of his scenario, precum sticking to his fingers as he did. He couldn't help but think about how beautiful you would look as you struggled to adjust to the feeling of his cock around your mouth, tears threatening to leak through as you fought off the urge to gag. "Oh shock, keep going," he moaned out, almost feeling like you were in the room with him.

His hand moved faster around his cock, fingers wrapped tightly around his shaft as he tried to get himself off. His eyes remained closed as the cold water ran through his body, his mind still continuing with the scenario from earlier. He felt his cock twitch in his hand, picturing how you would look with ropes of cum splattered onto your face. His release was more uneventful than he'd expected it to be, hit with the clarity of the situation immediately as the water washed the sticky substance from his hands. His forehead remained pressed against the shower wall, wanting to eliminate every negative thought that he'd been presented with. He felt perverted for taking advantage of you in this way, of taking advantage of the way that you were just so ready to help him out, but he couldn't help but feel his desire for you grow even more with every smile that you gave him.

He got out of the shower a couple minutes later, taking a few moments to reflect on what he'd done before finishing up with the rest of his shower routine. "Did you finish making the final adjustments to my suit?" He asked as his hologram assistant appeared next to him, a towel wrapped around his waist as he walked to the closet. "I did. You should find the material to be a bit more durable than the one that you previously used. Though the news reports show that it's going to be close to freezing so I would recommend for you to stay home," LYLA responded, before giving him the detailed report of what she'd done to his suit. "Crime doesn't stop just because it's a little cold. I'm sure I'll be fine," he muttered, grabbing the suit hanging up on the back of his closet.

Miguel shivered as he sat on top of a rooftop, overlooking the city as he waited for something to happen. He would have to make a mental note to add some insulation to the redesign of his suit, finding every minute outside to be excruciating. He removed the bottom part of his mask, blowing onto his bare hands as he rubbed them together. His feet swung on the edge of the building, ears perked up as he tried to listen in on conversations to discern whether anybody actually needed his help tonight. He was about to leave for the night around 30 minutes later, his plans getting stopped when he heard a lady scream across the street.

Miguel handed the purse back to the lady who was getting robbed, fighting the thugs that had tried to rob her proving to be the most exciting thing that happened all night. "Thank you Spider-Man!" The woman called out as he swung away, receiving a curt nod in response before he swung away. He ended up having to fight a couple low-grade robbers and car-jackers, nothing too big for the night. He got back home after finishing up the mundane tasks, feeling himself shivering even as he was welcomed by the warmth of the fireplace in his living room. LYLA had already started with her remarks about how he probably ended doing himself more harm than good, getting shut off two minutes into her monologue. He stripped off his clothing, sitting down on his couch with his legs spread out as he tried to warm up.

Miguel let out a groggy moan as he got up to the sound of his alarm, rubbing his hand across his temples as he laid on the couch. He could hardly get up to go to the bathroom, finding himself unable to head into work today. "I need to call in sick today," Miguel mumbled into the phone, knowing that Aaron was probably rejoicing at his weakened state. "You already messed up the experiment and now you want to take the day off? You're really slacking here, O’Hara," aaron remarked with a small 'tsk', speaking just loud enough for anyone to be able to overhear their conversation. "I don’t see why I have to explain myself to you but I'm sick. The experiment's gonna end even more messed up if I do end up showing up," Miguel answered, a small cough coming out of his end almost on cue.

After getting the reluctant approval of Aaron to stay home, miguel made his way to his bedroom and snuggled underneath his blanket. "LYLA, set up an appointment for me tomorrow at the medical center downtown please," he asked his ai assistant, his words coming out raspy and hoarse. "Why would you want me to do that? I can give you a full health assessment and recommend the right types of medicine that you need, Way better than a doctor ever could," she responded, appearing next to him with a face mask and little nurse hat on. "If I wanted you to do that, I would've asked. Just set me the appointment please," he mumbled, reaching over on his bed stand to get a tissue. LYLA was about to protest once more, but decided to go ahead and do the task when she heard Miguel coughing once more.

Miguel spent most of the day in bed, sweating underneath his tiger blanket despite the fact that he felt himself shivering. He found out the hard way that Vaporub did not in fact cure every one of his aches, though his nose wasn't too stuffed up after using it. He got up around 6 pm when he felt his stomach grumble, walking over to the kitchen to make himself something to eat. He turned on the afternoon news, wanting to make sure there wasn't anything too bad threatening the city. He saw that there had been a couple reports of robberies around the city, leaving it up to the police since he wasn't sure how useful he would be with his nose running every minute. He turned off the tv and poured the chicken soup that had been brewing on the oven into plate, sitting down at the dinner table to have something to eat. All he could do for now was simply wait for what the doctor would prescribe him, a part of him hoping that he would be able to see you.

"Miguel O'Hara?" You called out, looking around the sickly people in the waiting room before a tall man stood up. "That's me," he responded, his sinuses clearly stuffed up as he spoke. You led him back into the rooms, walking to the treatment rooms as you looked through the clipboard. "It's been a while since you've been here so i'm gonna go ahead and update your medical file," you informed him, looking back at him as he nodded. You led him to a wall with a measure taped on it, grabbing a pen from one of the pockets of your scrubs. You were about to take his height, noticing that his figure loomed over the measure. Your eyes widened slightly, your mind rubbing through what you could possibly do.

You grabbed an extra measure from a drawer, grabbing a chair nearby before getting up on it to tape it up on the wall. "You could've asked me to do that, y'know? I wouldn't have minded doing a favor for such a pretty nurse," he mused as he looked up at you, his lips immediately pursing together at the dirty look that you shot him. You got off from the chair, looking up at the two measures taped together before counting the extra inches. "Alright, 6'9," you muttered to yourself, writing it down on the clipboard before motioning for him to step on the electronic scale next to the side. You took his weight after the machine stopped counting, writing down the results before leading him to his assigned treatment room.

You washed your hands at the sink, putting on a bit of hand sanitizer before putting on a pair of gloves. "What seems to be the problem?" You asked, wanting to get a synopsis of what he thought was wrong before you made any guesses. "The problem is that you haven't accepted a dinner invitation with me. I'm sure my cold would heal a lot faster if you did, just saying. Trust me, I'm also a doctor," he mused, relishing as you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. While you'd had your fair share of patients flirt with you, having to deal with their advances tested your patience bit by bit. The man in front of you wasn't exactly unattractive, but he didn't make you feel the same excitement that you felt every time that you saw Spider-Man. You folded your arms and looked at him, staying silent until he decided to divulge what had been bothering him.

"My nose's stuffed up, my chest feels like it's full of phloem, and I can't stop coughing up a lung," he responded, allowing you to get a glimpse of what was really bothering him. "It sounds like you just have a cold but I'll get your blood work done just to make sure that I get an accurate result," you told him, grabbing a small needle to prick him. Before he got the chance to tell you that the blood work wouldn't reveal much, you'd already collected the blood in a small tube. "The doctor will be right with you, Mr. O’Hara," he'd heard you say before the door closed, leaving him alone with the knowledge that you didn't feel the same way about him while he was unmasked.

The doctor came in and did what they were supposed to, taking his heartbeat and his temperature. "It seems like you just have a cold, Mr. O’Hara. Take some time to rest at home and don't overexert your body," the doctor had warned him, handing him a small paper with a prescription for what seemed to be cough syrup on it. He took the paper from the doctor, looking over at you with a small smile as you stepped into the room. The doctor handed the chart over to you, giving you a shortened explanation of what the diagnosis had been. You read over his chart, reaffirming what the doctor had already said before you dismissed him.

"I forgot to mention, your blood test came back inconclusive. I'm sure it was just the machine since it said it couldn't really identify you as fully human," you told him before he had the chance to leave, his figure looming over yours as he waited for you to finish speaking. "I hope you get your machine fixed soon. I'm sorry if i did something to damage it. By the way, are you certain that you don't want to say yes to that dinner I mentioned earlier?" He insisted with his previous offer, his hand lingering on the doorknob as he waited for your response. "I'm sure, thank you for the very kind offer," you reaffirmed, stepping out of the room once he'd walked out.

You headed to the back to talk with your friends, seeing Miguel at the hospital's pharmacy to get the cough syrup prescription filled. "I heard you rejected your patient's advances when he asked you out to dinner. This one's pretty cute and rich, so what happened?" Nurse Maya asked you, pretending to sift through some files just in case a doctor passed by. "Girl, you know she's obsessed over that Spider-Man guy. How's it been going treating him for free, anyways?" Your other friend, Nurse Valeria asked, looking up from her computer just to take note of your expression. You hated how easy the news travelled in the hospital, avoiding Miguel’s gaze as you turned to look at your two friends.

"It's been going decent, thank you. And there's nothing new to tell, Spider-Man hasn't been showing up to my house lately. I kinda have missing being his little nurse," you responded, watching as they both rolled your eyes. "Of course you had to go and fall in love with the masked psycho," Maya muttered before the three of you talked about something else. You couldn't help but laugh as Maya went through her recent dating dilemma, blissfully unaware to the fact that someone had been listening to your conversation while they were waiting for their prescription to be filled.

Miguel couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips as he heard you speak about Spider-Man in the way that you did, speaking about his alter ego like a high school girl with a crush. "Mr. O'Hara?" The pharmacist behind the counter called out for what seemed to be the hundredth time, finally diverging his attention long enough from you to be able to do their job properly. "Thank you," Miguel mumbled awkwardly, the smile on his face quickly fading away as he paid for the cough syrup. He took a small spoonful of it in his car while he waited for the blue light to turn off, silently hoping that it would work and he could get back to fighting crime once more.

Though he felt a little discouraged at the way you'd shut him off with every flirting attempt that he made, he knew that at some level you had to feel some kind of attraction for him. His mind began coursing with different ideas of how to approach this situation, almost jealous of the way that you viewed his alternate ego. He started to wonder what it would be like if he was able to flirt with you the same way that he was able to as Spider-Man, what it would be like to have that confidence without the use of the mask. The way you spoke about him was almost endearing, the way that you described what it felt like to have Spider-Man come for your services and the way that you felt while you stitched him up. All that he knew is that he needed to come up with a solution about how to approach this crush for you and fast.

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becomingmina · 3 months

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Mad - fluff and slightest suggestive w/Changbin. 18+ only mdni.

Mad series is here 🤍

“Princess!” Changbin brightly greets you as he hops out of his car to help you drag your drunk best friend who is also Han’s girlfriend inside his back seat.

“Hi Binnie. Hi Han,” you shoot them a small smile. “Sorry she drank so much. We couldn’t stop her,” you say timidly standing back now that the two boys got her.

“That’s okay Y/N, thanks for looking out for her,” Han smiles at you before he getting in the car with his girlfriend.

“Did you enjoy your night?” Changbin asked with a smile, pulling you by both your arms into a tight hug.

You hum in respond, hugging him back tightly, feeling guilty.

Changbin had told you at the start of the week that he was finishing up a song and needed some time to perfect it, so you decided it’ll be best to give him some space to do so.

Although you know how much he would miss you, you also know how bad he was at multitasking. A simple “how are you” text will instantly turn to him calling you up and asking you to come over. You have learnt from the past that that’s not the way to go. You rememeber him rushing the last 2 days to fix up his song and boy, was he a mess.

For the week you had sent him only good morning and night messages, with some little I love you thrown in during his winding down time. The lack of interaction with him made you confide in your friends for a little bit of comfort. So when Han’s girlfriend messaged you to go drinking and clubbing with other girlfriends you were quick to say yes.

The night started off great. You and all the girls probably had about 4 shots and a couple of drinks each making everyone tipsy. But you were nearly at the end of your limit though, you could barely steady yourself on the dance floor.

It was midnight when you feel your phone buzzing inside your bag. You pull out your phone and could barely read the caller ID with your blurred vision. When you finally saw it was your boyfriend calling your face instantly lights up.

“You coming over yet Princess?” Changbin cheerfully asks on the other line. The club music was way too loud that you had to excuse yourself from the circle to run to the secluded bathroom to talk.

“Sorry Binnie, what did you say?” You asked and you hear him softly chuckle back.

“I said are you coming over yet?” He repeats himself.

“For?” You slurred on your words, confused at what he was asking.

“It’s our date night, silly,” Changbin giggly replies and instantly you froze.

You had forgotten it was the last Friday of the month and which means it was your designated date night with Changbin. It doesn’t matter what time he gets off work on the last Friday, you would spend your afternoon at his house anyways so you were able to get ready for what ever he had planned. You gasp, putting him on speaker as you search through your phone to visually confirm the date. It was already 12:03 Saturday. You had forgotten. You couldn’t blame anyone but yourself for this mistake.

“Did you forget?” He asks when hears you struggle on the other side.

“YES!!” You say, a hand coming to hit your temple. “I FORGOT I’M SO SORRY,” you cried, squatting on the bathroom floor, trying you best to calm yourself down.

He must’ve been so confused patiently waiting at home for you to come over the whole day.

“I’ll come home now, I’m sorry.”

“No! That’s okay princess, are you out with the girls?” He asked, his voice was still so soft.

“Yeah.. I.. I—” you scrambled to apologise but he doesn’t let you.

“Dont worry Princess. Go and enjoy your night with the girls. Call me when you want to come home and I’ll get you,” he giggles.

That’s one thing you can never understands about Changbin, he never gets mad or show a little bit of annoyance with you, even when you’re in the wrong. He never lets you take the blame for anything.

“I feel bad.”

“Don’t, you silly girl. We’ll talk later.”

“Okay,” you puffed with a pout and he giggles.

“Love you!” He shouted before hanging up.

How could you forget such an important day. You glance at your phone and realised he had send you a couple of messages throughout the night asking when you’ll be over and you hadn’t reply.

“Oh shit!” You quietly beat yourself up again.

The rest of the night you didn’t take anymore drinks and sobered up quickly. Although you still enjoyed the rest of the night with your girlfriends, your boyfriend was on your mind alot of the times.

“Come on, let’s go before she throws up,” Changbin says pulling you both into the car.

The ride home was just Han’s girlfriend drunk whining that she wanted to throw up so you really couldn’t bring yourself to talk to Changbin as your attention was on your friend’s well being.

“You reckon you’ll be okay Ji? Me and Y/N want to go on a drive,” Changbin says looking in his rear view mirror at younger boy. You glance to your side where your boyfriend was sitting, confused, because you never stated you wanted to go for a drive.

“I’ll be okay hyung, she’s just all talk. She’s probably gonna sleep like a baby once she’s get home,” Han giggles, assuring you both.

After dropping them off, Changbin drove around for a bit, sitting with you in silence. He keeps glancing to your side but looks away the second you look up at him. Once he reached the secluded lookout you guys always go to, he parks the car and reaches for your hand.

“Why are you not mad, Bin?” You nervously ask, breaking the silence.

“Why would I be?” He replies back with a smile caressing your hand.

“Tonight was suppose to be our date night and I ditched it to go clubbing,” you say unable to look at him.

“Well, we are on a date right now aren’t we?” He replies, the smirk is still on his face.

“At 2am.”

“So?”

“Im sorry—”

“Don’t. Don’t feel bad, don’t apologise,”

“But you never get mad at me,” you voiced out your concern with him being so lenient.

“You forgot. You’ve been so cute all week giving me space to finish my song. We didn’t talk all week so you just forgot. It’s not like you planned to ditch me,” his hand comes to cup your cheeks as he looks deep into your eyes, waiting for your reply.

“Right?” He says sounding a bit more serious as you don’t answer him. You giggle in response shaking your head.

He’s right though. You just forgot due to the lack of conversation you guys had all week.

“You okay now?” He leans in to peck the corner of your lips.

“Yes,” you reply, smiling at his kiss.

“Also, you look very sexy though Princess,” he smirked eyeing you up and down. “I couldn’t stop staring at you when I was driving,” he says glancing at the hem of your dress that was riding up your thighs.

“Is the dress new?” You can tell he was still trying to get you to forget about what happened.

“I got it last week,” you reply to him, neatly smoothing over the material by your thighs.

“It’s very sexy. Can I see it up close?” He raises his eyebrow and you giggle knowing what he was referring to. So you climb over the car to straddle him, your dress instantly riding up.

You loved date night.

#becomingmina #skz #stray kids #skz smut #stray kids smut #Changbin #changbin smut #Changbin suggestive #seo Changbin #Changbin fluff #skz request #skz reaction #stray kids imagines #Binnie

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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months

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YOU SAID SOFT!JASON AND I CAME RUNNING

soft!jason who just needs a fucking hug but its a stubborn bitch about it until reader basically forces him to hug her (its koala szn ok i dont make the rules) and his resolve is just GONE and he melts into her touch bc he really needed it

I follow the book of SZA for this season.

Personally ima imagine Gotham Knights Jason cause he gives off ugly bulldog vibes and I love that, but all Jason lives matter here 😊❤️

—

It’s been a while since you’ve witnessed a squash get butchered into many interesting pieces.

The tackling of the oddly tough spaghetti squash was always handled by your boyfriend, who made cutting it into its prepared state look incredibly easy. Cut it into multiple rings, season them, roast them, then fork out the perfectly cooked, sizable noodles with said utensil.

He was lost in thought, he had to have been, as said rock hard vegetable had been resorted to crooked, uneven cubes. His bowed head and dark expression after you quickly noticed, only signified the assumption to be true.

“Jason.” You tried his name again for a second time, concerned enough to settle a hand along his forearm. It was a miracle he hadn’t lost a finger yet, but knocking on wood in your mind would’ve been powerful enough to make it happen.

“Jason.”

The knife pauses, the man blinking once as if someone snapped in front of his face. He lifts his head a bit, coming back to his senses only to realize the state of what mess he’d created on the cutting board.

“Shit,” Jason mutters once, glancing over to see if the other half of the spaghetti squash was still intact.

“Shit.” The curse was further dragged out a little louder. Too lost in his dark cloud of remembrance to realize he butchered it all. Great. Just great.

“Hey,” you speak up, watching him catch your gaze for a split second before avoiding it, quickly setting the knife down.

“Hey.” He clears his throat, his hands piling together the fragments of their now ruined meal. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You try to insist, watching him scoop up the pieces in his hands. “We can still roast it, make it into something still eatable.”

Jason didn’t respond.

This makes your worry meter spike just a little bit more.

“What’s with that frown handsome? You love Italian night.” You question, keeping your hand settled along his forearm.

There was nothing Italian about this dinner, except the homemade sauce and crumbled choice of sausage from an authentic butcher.

He groans but not out of irritance for your words. His hand shifts, making your hand etch back as he leans against the counter, his head bowing once more.

“Nothing.”

What’s going on in that kind mind of his? Was he involuntarily reminiscing of topics and experiences you don’t dare to mention? Was he beating himself up inside for his slip up, ruining a crucial part of your guys’ dinner?

“Come here,” you step closer, slightly extending your arm out a bit as an offering.

Jason nearly etched his head off to the side, nearly mumbling an ‘No. M’fine babe,’ but you weren’t having it.

“Come heeere,” you tried again, reaching your arm up along his opposite bicep, attempting to capture his broad build into your limited embrace.

You make the effort to squeeze in between the tall man of muscle and the kitchen counter, managing to fit both hands over hud shoulders, securing them being his neck.

“We can fix it.” You tell him before he can say otherwise, his brow either furrowing or raising in mixed surprise, and or denial, “We can ask Alfred for one of his secret recipes. If it doesn’t work, fuck it. We’ll make nutella sandwiches or something.”

His brow sharply quirks.

You return the expression with a smile.

You’re a bad influence on him. He adores that about you.

He huffs, an edge of his tone resembling a weak, throaty chuckle. A corner of his lip raised into a limp smile, which was all you needed to see.

“Long day?”

He merely has the strength in his social battery to respond as his head lowers to settle along your shoulder. With a single sigh, the weight of his body against yours nearly had you squished against the counter. A pleasant company along your sides were those ‘unrealistically’ large hands guarding your back from digging too deep against the marble countertop edges.

“Yeah.”

Your small hand cradles the back of his head, nearly soothing the pain from his tension headache. His eyes close, another small sigh leaving his nose. Not all of the palpable stress leaves his body, but your comfort nearly dulls it down into something much more manageable in seconds. Something much more bearable.

Your soft voice floods his aches and pains with a golden warmth of serenity. Your secret super power did wonders on his heart and mind. You didn’t even have to try.

“How’s Nutella sandwiches sound, actually?”

“We don’t have the marshmallow fluff.”

“No, but.. think we got strawberries.”

His brow slightly quirks again. Tonight sounds like it’s getting better already.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #gotham knights jason todd #guess what my dinner was by reading this

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moonchildstyles · 9 months

Text

vervain

rosemary part six: harry goes home for the first time.

wordcount: 14.9k+

—————

The green sign advertising the city limits glinted in the sunlight. Thirty-six hours of driving with two overnight stops had finally brought them home.

Over the center console, Harry had his arm stretched out with his hand in (Y/N)'s lap, their hands tangled together.

A sense of deja-vu washed over him at the familiar sight despite the unfamiliar circumstances. The first time he saw this sign, Harry was numb. This was just another stop on the endless journey he had embarked on before he even really knew what it would mean to run away. He'd shut every meaningful part of himself away, ensuring the pain and guilt and sorrow wouldn't have a chance to strike him.

This time around, despite the same sign in front of him, the same sun shining over him, the same town welcoming him in, everything was different. That solid facade now held irreparable cracks.

The soft parts of him that held happiness and healing, vulnerability and contentedness, were finally being exposed after so long of being hidden away from the light. In trying his best to keep everything from hurting so much, he eliminated every chance of happiness or redemption.

While the cracks were raw and sore, the fact he could feel them was enough for Harry to find the bright side of the pain. More and more of the positives began to seep in even if he had to dig through the tunnel of hurt still.

(Y/N) squeezed his hand as the view of the town came over the horizon. It was odd seeing it look so normal; nothing had changed since they left, despite the fact everything had changed. Even the way he saw the small village had changed. This was no longer a single stop on the way to another hiding place. There was no reason to run any more if he didn't want to. This could be his home.

Harry's house was the first stop they made. It was quick and quiet, Harry only stopping off to see if he even still had a home here.

(Y/N) followed him through the apartment, their hands entwined with her behind. Everything was just as Harry had left it. His sheets were still a mess, his closet doors thrown open, and his kitchen sparsely stocked with canned food. He never thought he'd see this place again; no matter what had happened on the road, he never saw himself coming back here for any other reason than to return (Y/N) to her life before he was gone again. Now, this place held a small sense of permanence as he made plans on how he was going to have to fix up certain areas he messed up in his quick escape and what kind of fixtures he would add to his limited furniture.

But all of that could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he would be at (Y/N)'s—at her request. She had wanted to take a shower in her own bathroom and sleep in her own bed, but she wanted Harry to be there as well. He had no qualms about that plan. (He wouldn't be able to admit it, but he didn't think he would have been able to drop her off and go their separate ways anyway. Not after everything).

Other than the key he plucked from the door jamb and the clothes he dropped off to be washed later, nothing was changed in his apartment in their wake.

Harry drove slowly through the town, as if becoming familiar for the first time with the place he had called home for almost nine months. Her gingerbread neighbourhood was just as perfect as when he left it last, though things looked that much sweeter now without the veil of panic and lies.

With their bags packed over his shoulder, (Y/N) led him inside with her. Everything felt pleasantly mundane as they shed their shoes just like they did the night they kissed, their bags being deposited in her bedroom after. Her kitchen was the exact same, his memories being refreshed instead of being reflected through the photographs he still needed to burn.

They were settled for less than two minutes before a frantic knocking on the front door sent his heart rattling behind his ribs. He could hear (Y/N) gasp from the kitchen, her steps stilling. A moment passed before he saw her creep down the hallway from the corner of his eye. He figured he looked a lot like her then: wide eyes, tense muscles, and too many memories filling in the background.

Another round of pounding knocks along with muffled voices started again, Harry wincing as he was transported back to the motel for a split second. He rose to his feet from where he sat on the couch, those lingering protective instincts awakening. His imagination ran too wild as it filled in the gaps of who could be waiting on the other side of the door.

(Y/N) recovered faster than him, her gaze turning to him. It was the sight of her, eyes softened, muscles relaxing, that had him remembering that there wasn't anything for him to fear on the other side.

Everything was over. It was done. He was safe now.

A careful smile spread across her lips when he met her gaze. That was all he needed to relax, his shoulders falling as he stayed on his feet.

He watched as she approached the door, another batch of frantic knocking being cut off when she turned the bolt. Pulling the knob, (Y/N) had her free hand bundled into a fist at her side; no matter how calm she tried to portray herself, he knew she felt some of the same tremors he did. Harry kept his eyes trained onto the widening gap of the door, readying himself despite the mantra he tried to remind himself.

Standing in a pair on the porch were friends of (Y/N)'s Harry recognized from the bakery. They were restless, hands shaking and feet rocking. Her hand was raised to knock once more on the door, but the limb was dropped when she caught sight of (Y/N). Their faces broke into bubbling grins and sparkling eyes the second the door opened.

In a blink, the pair was climbing all over (Y/N), exclaiming her name with wavering voices.

"Where were you?" one of them called, voice muffled by their embrace.

"Everyone has been so worried. People started searching for you," the other bubbled off, just as teary as the first.

The moment melted into a teary reunion full of tangled limbs and bubbling joy. Through the chatter, Harry was able to suss out that one of (Y/N)'s neighbours had spotted their return and a single text had started a chain reaction. Half the town was now apparently making plans to stop by and see them. That's what happened when someone like (Y/N) worked at one of the most popular spots in a small town; it was hard not to get attached to her, Harry could attest.

Rising over the noise, he could hear the dips and curves of (Y/N)'s laugh. She was being covered in love and affection, small tears of joy highlighting the round of her cheek as her friends wiped them away. Harry could only stand back and watch, a cautious smile tipping his lips.

This was what he had pictured every time he didn't see an end to the motels and the hours on the road. This was the moment he had been working towards the second he stole her away in the middle of the night.

He'd kept her safe. He returned her to her home and to the people who loved her.

Harry kept his promise.

A head of long, dark hair popped up over the teary puppy pile, watery eyes looking right at him. It was Sabrina, her familiar features glimmering in tears with a bright smile stretching her lips.

"Harry!" Breaking from the group, Sabrina barreled towards him with open arms.

Taken aback, Harry hesitated with his arms hovering around her while her own looped around his middle. From the corner of his eye, he saw (Y/N) looking to him with a beaming smile. He relaxed at the sight, reciprocating Sabrina's hold.

"We were all so worried," she told him, voice muffled against his chest, "When you didn't show at the grocery store and no one had heard from (Y/N), we all panicked."

"I—uh—," Harry stumbled around his tongue, unable to find the words. He didn't know how to respond to a reaction like this. He knew (Y/N) would have been missed, but this was unexpected. He never thought it would matter if returned to this town or not. "'M sorry, Sabrina. We—uh—We didn't really have a chance to talk to anyone," he settled on, sounding just as overwhelmed as he felt.

Sabrina pulled away first, giving Harry a joyous smile. Before much else could be said, another light knock sounded from the front door.

(Y/N) answered it once more, having barely made it out of the front hallway before being attacked in clinging embraces. This time waiting on the other side was a face much more familiar to Harry: Ms. Klarke from the library.

Instead of her usual librarian attire, she had a pair of dirty, ripped jeans on with a button-up top in yellow gingham. The high points of her face were highlighted with a warm flush, her hair tied back in a twisting braid. Her eyes lit up once she spotted who was waiting inside (Y/N)'s home.

"You really are back!" she beamed, "When I got the phone call, I was scared to believe it."

"Ms. Klarke!" (Y/N) greeted her, sweeping an arm to her side in a gesture to let her in. The bakery girls joined Harry in the living room while the new addition entered. "We didn't mean to worry you, I'm sorry."

Waving them off, Ms. Klarke shook her head. "I'm just happy you're alright," she started, her gaze landing on Harry, "And, you. I've been saving all these books in the back for you—you can't leave me waiting like that!"

Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry bit back a smile while his eyes began to warm. He didn't know what to say, his voice feeling lost in his throat at the kind of attention he was earning.

Talking for them, (Y/N) piped up as she stepped into the living room, "Harry had a family emergency a few hours away and we didn't have any time to tell anyone before we had to leave, then my charger broke, and it was a whole mess. We're sorry we scared you guys—I wish I had been able to reach out."

Harry couldn't tune into the chatter that erupted then, his heart too big for his chest. He felt as if he were floating in this room, weightless as he tried to anchor himself to the moment. More and more faces appeared as more people came through to celebrate their return.

Patrons he remembered from the bakery came by ("We left your table free for you, where did you go?"), coworkers from the grocery store ("We tried to beat your stocking times, but it's not as fun when you're not there to give us a grumpy look!"), and people Harry didn't even know were there to rejoice in seeing he and (Y/N) again. A scene he could only recognize out of a movie scene or a passage in a book began to form in (Y/N)'s living room.

Standing in the middle of it all, bruised and overwhelmed, Harry couldn't think of any time he'd been happier,

Meeting (Y/N)'s smiling eyes across the room, he knew today was always going to be one of the best days of his life.

—————

"Are you not tired?"

(Y/N) looked at him through the fan of her lashes, eyes exhausted after the night they'd had. Her home had become a revolving door of townsfolk coming in and out to greet them upon their return. More than a handful of times, (Y/N) had to reiterate their cover story, doling out extra details only when asked—more than once, she shared a look with him across the room as if to ensure he was on board with their story. After a dinner of pizza that was brought over by one of Harry's coworkers had been shared, the groups began to filter out. The house had been quiet since the last friend—one of (Y/N)'s old managers at the bakery—had said their final goodbyes before they were left alone.

As much as he appreciated seeing all of these people, those who he didn't even know he could have an impact on, now that he'd had a chance to shower and nestle into a real bed, he was finally able to decompress. It was overwhelming to be around so many people at once, lingering instincts trying to bubble to the surface and urge him into keeping an eye on everything with every exit assessed. More than once, he had to remind himself that no one was lurking in the shadows anymore, which only overwhelmed him more; the freedom hadn't sunk in yet and he wasn't sure when it would.

(Y/N) looked just as exhausted as he felt. It was a familiar sight to see her with damp hair and tired eyes, but everything was just a shade different. Now, he shared the bed with her, those self-appointed boundaries he put in place now dissolving to leave them sharing a pillow. They laid close enough to one another for body heat to be shared under the frills of her swirling, peach colored comforter; if he wanted, Harry could tangle their legs together with just a stretch of his knee. At this proximity, despite the fatigue on her features, he could see in her eyes she was just as relieved and happy as he was.

Harry couldn't help the smile that tipped his lips the longer he looked at her. It was an interesting feeling, the want to smile and share his happiness like that; it was the first thing he wanted to do when he looked at her.

Dimples denting his cheeks, he allowed his gaze to wander down her features. "Yeah, but I want y'to be able to sleep."

A pout tugged at (Y/N)'s own features, her bottom lip puffing out more than he was sure she was even aware. "Why can't we sleep together?"

The lighthearted air in his chest deflated some at her question. "I jus'... I don't want to wake y'up if I have a dream," he murmured, his explanation coming easier now that she knew things about him he never imagined he would have the courage to share. What more was the admittance of a nightmare to her after everything else?

"I don't care," she told him, inching the much closer to him with the sheets shifting around them, "If you do have a bad dream, I'll be right here."

Maybe it was the fact he was still recovering from the last week and a half, or the impromptu party they had tonight, or just the realization that his life had changed so much in the last few days, but (Y/N)'s words plucked at his heart just right in the dark of her room. Everything soft in him had been poked and prodded, enough to cause a pool of tears to spring into his eyes. He didn't know when he started getting so emotional, but it was as if all those years of suppressing it had only caused a build up that he was draining now.

It was (Y/N) that reached out to him first, closing that small distance between them until she had him bundled in her arms. Harry didn't hesitate to cuddle her to his chest, face buried in the crown of her head. He held her with his arms looped around her shoulders, her cheek smushed against his neck while her own arms were wrapped around his middle.

"Thank you," he murmured into her hair. (Y/N) only hugged him tighter in response.

He wasn't sure if (Y/N) would ever understand how therapeutic it was to just be had the way she did for him. After years of bare minimum contact with others, to be received with open arms and free affection, it put him all out of sorts knowing that he could be included in that kind of kindness. He still didn't believe he truly deserved her trust and care, but he wasn't going to be the one to stop it. She knew who he was and still wanted him to feel her touch and hear her soft words.

"(Y/N)?" he whispered, pulling away from their snuggle though he didn't go far.

Peeling herself away from her hiding place in his neck, she gazed up at him with forgiving eyes. "Hm?"

Harry couldn't help but to allow his gaze to shift over her features, noting the slope of her nose and the height of her cheekbones. Her lashes were a gentle fan, brushing her brow bone with every blink. Her skin was dewy and scented after her luxuriously long shower, drawing him in like a moth to a glimmering flame. The pillows of her lips were the main draw, his eyes struggling to stay away for long before he was mapping the curve of her cupid's bow and the dips of her mouth.

Forcing himself to draw his eyes back to hers, Harry blinked with his throat bobbing in a heavy swallow. "Can I—... I-I want to kiss you," he crooned to her, his voice falling among the folds of the sheets.

He watched as (Y/N)'s face broke out into a grin, soft and just for him. He got to bask in the sight just before she closed the distance herself and pressed her lips to his with a tilt of her chin.

Her kiss was just as gentle as he remembered, the contact kind and giving. This time, though, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that this moment was for them alone. No one could take this from him. That made the slotting of their lips that much sweeter. The kisses he placed upon her top lip and the taste of her minty toothpaste that much more special. (Y/N) melted into his hold, giving herself into their kiss with his bottom lip between her two. Sliding his hands over her shoulders, he was able to cradle her cheeks in his palms, thumbs brushing the length of her bottom lashes. Every tip of their heads had the tips of their noses brushing, a small smile touching at (Y/N)'s lips every time.

The kiss was lazy. It was long and lingering. No implications were implied other than the need Harry had to know her in this sense—how much he wanted her to know him. He could still be gentle for her.

It was with the way she had pulled back just enough to get a good breath, brushing her nose against his in a minute puppy's kiss that had a stray thought entering Harry's head by the time another kiss was smeared upon his lips: he was kissing the love of his life.

This was where he was supposed to be. There had to be a reason why he was pulled to this town, and (Y/N) had to be that reason. There were plenty of things in the past years that he wished he could take back, that he wished he could change, but if everything led to making this possible—making him into the kind of man that (Y/N) was able to love—he wasn't able to argue with the road that took him here.

Before long, (Y/N) pulled away with a smattering of kisses pressed against his mouth. He couldn't help the smile on his face when she drew away to look at him.

He was sure his pupils were seconds away from turning into hearts or just welling up from the amount of devotion swimming in his heart for her.

"Wake me up if you need me, okay? I don't care what time, or anything," she told him, shifting on the sheets to get comfortable.

"I will," he promised her, allowing her to cling to him until they were wrapped in a similar cuddle like the one they had the last night in the motel.

Harry fell asleep with her head on his chest, their even breathing syncing up like the bass of a heartbeat. He doesn't wake again until the sun is shining in the sky, only pleasant dreams left behind.

—————

Lips thinning, Harry re-read the building instructions for the side table he was building for his apartment. (Y/N) had joked it would take him hours to piece together, but he hadn't thought it would really be this hard.

But, she'd probably laugh if she found out how hard he was struggling with the directions, and he always liked to see her happy.

As much as he may have wanted to bother her, she was too busy doing her part of trying to cozy up his apartment. He had told her it wasn't necessary, that it wasn't any of her responsibility, but that didn't stop her from insisting she tag along with him. While he was busy putting together more permanent items to fill the space (including the stupid end table), she was in the process of making his bed something pleasant to sleep in.

Tucking the corners of a fitted sheet around the dimensions of his mattress, (Y/N) piped up, "What's next then, H?"

"Hm?" he hummed, his attention primarily on the fold out of instructions on the tall box beside him, "Um—I think I need to change the bulb in the kitchen, but I jus' want to finish this first."

A peal of laughter left her lips, drawing Harry's own lips into a small smile. "No," she sang, "I mean, what's the next adventure for you? You have all this freedom now, do you have any kind of plan?"

Harry's brows cinched together in the middle, his hands slowing as he worked. "I—um—I don't know," he mumbled, "I jus'... I don't think I plan on leaving."

A pause sounded in the room, just the sound of (Y/N) rustling the sheet over his bed. "Oh?" she said after a beat.

Giving a small nod, Harry drew his attention away from the nonsense table and trailed his gaze to where (Y/N) was stretched over his bed. She was looking at him over her shoulder, her eyes tender.

"I want to stay here," he told her quietly.

Her own task at hand was pushed to the wayside as she settled to sit down on his bed, sheet free of any other dressing as the folds and creases pulled towards her like waves. "You do?" she pressed, a small smile itching at the corners of her lips, "No big town or anything in the works?"

"No," he said simply, "I want to be here."

(Y/N) seemed especially content to hear from him about this with the way she lent towards him, her elbows being planted on her knees. "Any plans for what you want to do here then?"

Lifting his shoulders, he gave her a shrug. "Not sure, but I should probably get a better job; I don't really need to keep being paid under the table for an overnight position," he laughed off, realizing the amount of roots he could actually put down here if he wanted.

"Not if you like it, thought," (Y/N) quipped, ever positive in the wake of Harry's evolving attitude, "But, I bet you'd do really good at the library or something like that."

That was a train of thought Harry had never allowed himself to go down. It would be rather nice to spend his days around books, he thought. Ms. Klarke would be good company too. Maybe, he'd look into something like that.

Before he could think better of it, more ideas rolled off of Harry's tongue, possibilities he'd never let himself consider before now taking shape in reality. "I-I think I want to get a cat, too."

Perking up at his words, (Y/N) broke into a bright grin as she looked at him. "Really?!" she bubbled, "That would be perfect, Harry! You'd be the best cat dad, I can definitely see that."

Harry crossed his arms across his chest to hide the shaking of his hands as he considered the next plan in his list of possibilities. From the corner of his eye, he could see the photo of his family set up on the brand-new coffee table decorating the room. He kept his eyes facing his feet as he spoke, "I think... I want to try to find my mum and sister, too."

Silence filled his apartment for a moment, (Y/N) having paused before the gentle sound of her voice floated between them, "Harry, that's a wonderful idea." He could hear the creaks of his mattress as she assumedly hopped from her position. His sense of her presence shifted as she came closer to him though he still didn't know if he had the willpower to meet her eyes and not break down. "I can help if you want?" she offered, "I don't really know how to find anyone, but I'll help any way I can.

"I think they'd love to hear from you; I'm sure your mom misses you so much."

Her final statement hit him just right, every newly revealed tender bit inside him feeling the effect. Choking up with a lump in his throat, Harry whispered, "I miss her, too."

(Y/N) didn't wait to cradle him in her arms, the embrace something Harry was now familiar with. She gave affection so freely, always there for him the second she felt she was needed or even when she was the one in need of his touch. Every day her arms felt more and more like a home.

With her arms looped around him tightly, (Y/N) spoke into his chest, "You're a good person, Harry, I know that."

An argument was ready on his tongue, the same one that he and (Y/N) had gone back and forth on since they returned home. Before he could get anything out, he was cut off by a muffled voice.

"I know you don't agree with me," she rushed out, not wanting to hear a syllable of his protests, "but, I don't care. That's how I feel, and I'm right."

A breathy laugh fell from Harry's lips, the sound of his joy fanning across the crown of her head where he had his face nuzzled into. The sound caught in his throat the longer he let it process.

The way she talked to him was always with such great care. Even before she knew the truth, there wasn't a time he could remember her being any harsher than a tease with him—and when she would play with him as such, she only made him feel normal. He knew what it was like to be looked at as if there was nothing to him, that he wasn't a person worth knowing; Trevor had looked at him like that every time he offered him a job, every time he had effectively pushed someone away they had given him those eyes. (Y/N), despite his best efforts, was there for him.

He knew she meant every word she'd just said to him. She truly believed he was a good person—someone that deserved her touch and to stand beside. No matter what he put her through, at her core, she believed he was a good person whether or not he could make a case otherwise.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry allowed his mouth to move before he could shut himself down: "I love you."

Her nose buried in his shoulder, Harry felt her voice as much as he heard it when she said, "What?" Pulling away from their embrace just enough to look up at him, (Y/N) reached up with soft hands and pushed his hair back, gaining a look at his eyes. "What did you say?" she repeated.

A pinch of fear plucked at the raw edges of his heart. "I said I love you," he murmured, his gaze dropping down her features, too afraid to see what swam in her eyes at his declaration, "Y'don't have to say it back, or anything. You jus'... I feel better with you."

Harry saw her smile first, the way it broke across her features and had her lips pressing into her cheeks and lines appearing by her eyes. Her hands settled on his jaw, palms following the line with her fingers dipping into the baby hairs of his hairline.

Pulling him in for a kiss, Harry barely had time to register before his lips were smeared across (Y/N)'s. There was an intensity behind the contact, as if this were her way of clinging to him without climbing all over him in the middle of his apartment. Before long, she could hold the kiss against the smile that was inching back over her features.

Drawing away, Harry was rewarded with the sight of her bubbling smile, the same one he tasted in her kiss. "I love you too, Harry. So much," she crooned, her voice a song as if floated to his ears, "You're the strongest, smartest person I know, and I'm lucky to have you in my life."

That genuine intensity in her eyes didn't allow a single doubt to creep into his mind.

Over the last few days, Harry had become a bit accustomed to bursting into tears every time something overwhelmed him or a realization pinged in his head. But, now, looking at her and knowing she felt the same way he did, Harry could only smile. He was so happy he could laugh, and smile, and scream, and hold her. No tears were on his mind, no lump in his throat, no pressure behind his eyes.

Only joy.

When he found his mom, he couldn't wait to tell her all about (Y/N).

—————

Gasping, running, Harry knew someone was behind him. He couldn't turn around to be sure, but he knew that if he slowed down for even a second, he would be caught in a grasp he wouldn't make it out of. The gun in his hand was heavy, but there wasn't a single shot of ammunition left. He hadn't been such a bad shot since he was first commissioned for this lifestyle. Now, he would have to pay for that.

Over the horizon, a sunbleached motel appeared the longer he ran. (Y/N) was there—he didn't know how he knew that, but it was a fact he couldn't let go of. He needed to get to her in time, tell her to run. She wasn't supposed to still be here; she had promised him that she would leave if he didn't come back last night. She wasn't supposed to wait for him.

They were going to kill her next if he didn't get to her in time. After they took care of him, she would end up collateral in a war she didn't sign up for.

But, Harry was running out of time. He knew that in the way his lungs burned and legs ached. He couldn't outrun them.

As if he conjured her himself, (Y/N) chose that moment to step out of the motel. Underneath the blinking sign, he could see her spot him in the distance. She opened her mouth to say something.

She didn't know someone was behind him—she didn't know she couldn't be here anymore.

Just before the sound of a gunshot could ring out in his dream, Harry jolted awake.

That burn in his lungs he felt in his dream was very much real with the way he sucked in air as if he couldn't get enough, inflating his lungs past capacity before he deflated too fast. Coming back to the surface with every labored blink of his eyes, Harry pieced together his surroundings.

A peach bedspread was tucked around his chest, the fluff suddenly feeling too warm around him, with a grey bed frame behind him. A green, fuzzy pillow was pushed to his feet, the extra cushion taking up too much space for two people to fit in one bed.

His heart rate slowed as he remembered. This was (Y/N)'s bed. He was in her room, in her gingerbread house, with her snuggled into his side.

"Harry?"

Hints of the peach bedspread reminded him a bit too much of the motel in his dream. He cringed at the reminder, his hands stilling where they had been about to push the fabric away from him.

"Harry?" (Y/N) chirped again, her sleepy voice growing firm.

Blinking the nightmare out of his gaze, Harry turned to face her with a slew of messy curls draping themselves over his forehead. Reality came back to him in pieces, her room feeling more and more real with his dream fading to the background.

(Y/N) laid beside him, propped up on her elbow as she looked at him with concern in her eyes. Her hair was sleep-mussed with puffy under eyes. Every blink she gave was slow and lingering, fighting back the urge to sleep.

She saw him, that much he knew. Even in the wake of the ticking in his head, Harry knew that. (Y/N) loved him, that was true. That was one of the only things he could keep track of through the muddy waters he was still attempting to shake off.

She had promised him that he wouldn't have to fend off his nightmares by himself, and there she was. At his side.

Reaching out, (Y/N) grazed a hand across his chest, a grounding touch. "Harry, can you hear me?"

Nodding frantically, Harry clutched her hand in his. His breathing was beginning to shudder in his lungs, coming in uneven paces. Using his hold on her hand, he tugged her down to him, laying her form against his chest. (Y/N) moved wherever she was needed, happy to give him any kind of comfort he was seeking.

"You-You were trying to help me," he told her, swallowing around his dry throat, "But, we-we were back at the motel, and y’didn't know that they were—"

(Y/N) didn't wait for him to finish before she was reaffirming her hold on his hand, lacing their fingers together with her other hand tangling in the fabric of his shirt. It wasn't a new dream, this scenario. Most of his older nightmares of his days on the job had been left on the back burner while these memories played like a reel of the worst moments of his life on replay. Every time, they started like a real memory from the days in the motels, but this time Harry wasn't strong enough or smart enough to save them. She knew how to talk him down from these at this point.

"I know," she told him in a gentle croon, "But, it's not real. It was just a dream. We're here. You kept me safe the whole time."

"Y'were so scared, (Y/N)," he told her, his voice thin.

Blinking at him, she pulsed her hand around his. "I was, but I knew you wouldn't let anything happen to me. And, you didn't." A small smile grew on her features as Harry calmed under her words. "That's what I'm doing for you now," she told him, "I'm making sure nothing happens to you while you're with me. It's my turn now."

On instinct—one he didn't really understand or was used to yet—Harry couldn't help but to smile at her. She was the only one that knew how to draw that out of him.

Harry shifted, one of his hands clutching her bedspread unfurled only to land delicately on her cheek. (Y/N) lent into his warmth, the length of her lashes grazing the tip of his thumb as she hovered over him. Firming his hold on her, Harry pulled her in for a kiss.

The press of his lips against hers allowed him to pour every word of devotion he couldn't dig out of his throat. The taste of her raspberry lip treatment lingered on his lip, grounding him to this moment. She was his anchor, her kiss his tether to the real world that was suddenly brighter than even the best dreams his mind could conjure.

Every pressing of his lips against hers, whether slightly off center or with either lips slotting together, was an expression of the love he felt for her but couldn't choke out right then.

(Y/N) was more than happy to let Harry sink into her with every joining of their lips. She didn't stop him when he dove back in after breaking for a breath, not when he loosened his hold on her hand to cradle both cheeks. She allowed him to devote himself to her, find his own redemption with every linking of their mouths.

Soon enough, (Y/N) drew away just far enough for the tips of their noses to brush, hooded eyes meeting in the dark of her room. "Are you feeling better?" she asked, breathless.

He paused before he answered, flashes of the nightmare returning in quick succession. "I jus'—," he started, cutting himself off as he floundered, "It could have happened. I know it wasn't real, but it could have been."

Nudging her nose against his, (Y/N) spoke earnestly with the pillows of her lips brushing his with every word, "But, it wasn't; it didn't happen. I'm here. You kept us safe and now you're done. Forever."

Harry's throat bobbed with a thick swallow as he listened to her words. He knew it was true, that he was done and everything he had done had protected them both in the long run, but it was hard to accept. He still didn't view himself as a savior, and he wasn't sure he ever would.

Shifting on his chest, (Y/N) grabbed his hands that cradled her cheeks, her palms pressed to the tops of his hands.

"I'm here, Harry," she murmured, "I'm okay. Because of you."

Using the hold she had on his hands, she glided them down the slope of her neck, and cuffs of her shoulders as if to prove her point. She was solid and real. No injuries or accidents. She was safe.

One of his hands was pushed to rest just over her heart. Through the fabric of her sleep shirt and cage of her ribs, he could feel the pounding of her heart in her chest. She was warm, that heat emanating into his palm. The more he tuned into the beats of her heart, he found it matched the same raised pace of his own.

With his hand still pressed to her heart, (Y/N) surged forward, pressing her lips to his in another kiss. "See? I'm here, Harry," she murmured into his mouth, her words tasting sweet on his tongue, "You have me."

Taking over control of his hands, he slipped them out from under her own as he pressed another lingering kiss across her mouth. Gliding his palms over her sides, Harry felt every line he had seen since that night in the grocery store, documenting every crease and curve, every plush dimple and rounded edge. His fingertips made dents in her skin as he passed over her form, her body giving under the strength of his touch.

Every catalogued touch grounded Harry more and more. She was here with him, right now, he knew that. He couldn't be more grateful.

He may have been able to keep them safe while on the run, but she was the reason he was whole right now—if with a few frayed edges. Without her, he would have ended up in another unpolished town, wondering when or if he would ever have a chance to live. Without her, he wouldn't have had a future stable enough to purchase even just an end table.

Harry knew well where he would be without her, but that only made it easier to appreciate everything she'd done and changed for him. It made it easier to devote himself to her every whim.

His hands wandered around her body further, his kisses deepening with every twist of his head and tip of his chin. (Y/N) reciprocated with her hands on his chest, curling and unfurling the material of his top every time he pressed against her mouth that much harder. Skating over her body, his palms pressed into her thighs, bypassing the length of her sleep shirt. Her skin was soft and perfumed, fresh from the shower she had luxuriated in before snuggling into bed with him.

(Y/N) was soft, so soft Harry didn't think anyone could be that way. There were still bumps and ridges, texture to her skin just like any other, but none of that registered in the same capacity as he sunk his fingertips into the flesh, her body giving way under his touch. The press of his lips over her pushed harder, taking more and more of her with every cant of his head and tip of his chin. His hands on her legs slipped under the hem of her top, grazing the end of her shorts as he tried to scope out if she was that soft everywhere.

A particularly heady grip of his hands on her thighs had (Y/N) sighing into his mouth. The noise only made him want to cling to her harder, see what else he could draw out of her.

"You're here," he murmured against her lips, repeating her earlier words as they sunk into his bones.

Breathless, (Y/N) told him again, "I'm here." Her words fanned across his skin before he sealed his lips over hers once more, warm and dripping like nothing else he'd heard come out of her. "I'm yours."

Harry could feel muscles in his abdomen start tensing at her words. Maybe it was the way that he could feel her speak them against his mouth as much as he heard them, or the fact her voice was wrapped around the sentiment at all, but he was far from unaffected. His stomach was tight, his chest boiling with his heart pounding and burning. God, he was getting hard from a makeout like he was some kind of college idiot.

He couldn't even blame himself for the way he dug into her, hands and all. Everywhere he pushed, she gave away and cushioned his touch. She moved that much closer with every shift of their bodies, sinking into him. Harry felt her with more than just his hands.

(Y/N)'s hands found their way to his hair, sliding between the curls and flexing into the strands. She parted her lips when the first swipe of his tongue grazed her mouth, her hands tightening and tugging in his hair.

The sting against his scalp was more than Harry's brain could process in that moment. All he knew was that he wanted to be closer to her—needed to be closer, even. That touch had him pushing against her, grazing his hands up her sides until he was gripping her waist. He pushed until she was rolling back for him, Harry hovering above her while she clung to him.

"(Y/N)," he sighed against her kiss, pulling away enough to speak, "I—"

"Please," she whined with a nod of her head to the question he hadn't asked. Her palms slipped out from his hair and sat on the broad of his shoulders. She used her leverage to tug him to her, trying to convince him to give in and let her feel him again.

Between her spread legs, Harry was pulled to lay above her. Those thighs he had documented with his hands were now cushioning his hips. The soft edges he could draw from memory were now his landing pad for all the hard angles and solid ridges that made up his body. Their chests were pressed together with heart beats rattling rib cages. Her body welcomed him with every curve and soft pad; Harry pushing where she pulled. The sticky sound of their mouths meeting and parting lingered in the small space between them.

Laying there in a mess of peach colored sheets and a plush body that had just been declared his, Harry couldn't think of anything or anyone he'd ever been more devoted to. He would do anything for her.

Right now, he wanted to give her that pleasure that had her sighing into his mouth and clinging to his touch. He wanted to do whatever it took to have her melting into the mattress, sinking into her sheets with a blissed out smile on her face. He wanted to hear those noises that had his chest rattling and his thighs aching from how bunched his muscles became.

"Harry, I..." (Y/N) started, her voice trailing off as she pulled in a heavy breath. The length of her lashes reached for his own, the tips tangling among his.

Smearing a kiss over the corner of her opened mouth, Harry tightened his hands on her waist. "I know, peach, I know."

That heavy intake paused in her lungs. "Peach?"

He smiled against her skin, a little too smug over her reaction. "Yeah," he crooned, "You're soft like one. Sweet, too."

A gentle laugh was felt against his kiss before touching his ears. "I like that," she told him, tipping her head just enough to pull him in for another lingering kiss.

"I like you, peach" he told her, reservation be damned as he shared the first thought on his mind.

(Y/N)'s thighs tightened around his hips at his words. Not much else could be said when Harry sealed a kiss to her mouth, parting her lips and taking her top one between his two. Her sighs came more freely now with his weight pressing into her, the slick sounds of their mouths mixing in to create a soundtrack.

With a bubbling in his stomach, Harry's body moved instinctively, pressing his hips heavily into hers. The apex of her thighs welcomed him readily, the bulge in his sweats pressing into her softest spot. A shivering moan left (Y/N)'s lips then, hands in his hair tightening.

If not for the fact his eyes were already closed, he knew they would have rolled to the back of his head. Harry had never been more grounded in his entire life; he was anchored to this moment. More often than not, he couldn't get his brain to shut up—he was constantly considering every outcome of a given situation, his next move, his next words, everything. But, here, none of that mattered. There was nowhere else in this world that he wanted to focus on, no other person that could pull him from his living daydream.

This place—a frilly peach bed with fluffy pillows in the middle of a nowhere town—was what he had been searching for all these years since he left his past life behind. This feeling was the goal when he had fantasized about getting out of his line of work.

Now, he had it. He had a soft woman underneath him, her heart just as welcoming as her body, with his brain quiet. She had him in the palm of his hand, and he knew he was safest there.

Sinking into her, Harry just wanted to show her. Everything brewing in his chest, caged back by his ribs and squeezing his lungs, he wanted her to feel and know and see.

Another push of his hips, a physical show of her effect on him, had another moan rolling off of (Y/N)'s tongue. The sound tasted sweet to Harry; the taste of redemption and something too holy to explain.

"Harry," she murmured, the call coming out messy and smeared against his mouth.

"I've got you, remember?" he soothed, "All mine."

Surging forward, (Y/N)'s kiss was desperate against his own, the tip of his nose grazing her cheek. "All yours," she cemented.

Between her legs, Harry could feel the heat through the layer of her shorts and his sweats. His hands on the curve of her waist pulsed like the shot that went down his spine as he mind wandered a little too far, his imagination slipping under the waistband of her shorts.

"Are y'sweet everywhere, peach?" he asked, his alluring words skipping over her tongue.

A beat passed as (Y/N) opted to instead keep kissing him instead of giving any kind of answer. "What do you mean?" she breathlessly asked, sounding dazed.

A smug smile tipped the corners of his mouth. A heady rock of his hips was delivered against her own. "You know what I mean," he drawled, "Are you sweet everywhere?"

Having drawn away just enough to match her eyes, he saw the way they rolled to the back of her head. Her grip on his hair and the vice of her thighs around his hips had him sinking with her as she melted into the mattress.

Grazing the tip of his nose over the curve of her warmed cheek, Harry let her cling to him. "Do y'want me to check?" he asked, lips brushing over her skin, "Can I, peach?"

(Y/N) eagerly nodded her head to his proposal. "Yes, yes, please."

Pulling away, (Y/N)'s grip loosened on his hair despite Harry knowing that was the last thing she wanted to do. But, he had another proposition for her. He needed to see her when he asked.

"Can y'do something for me, then?" he said, their hips still nestled together as he hovered above her with elbows planted on either side of (Y/N)'s head.

It was an automatic response the way she immediately agreed, no hesitation. "I can do that for you," she said, no knowledge of what she was agreeing to.

Dipping down and pressing a kiss to her chin, Harry couldn't help but to breathe out a laugh across her skin. "Y'don't even know what I want, and you're already promising. Thought y'were smart, peachy?"

(And, she is very smart, he knew that. He just wanted to tease her a little, see if she liked that).

(Y/N)'s breathing hitched in her throat, but she didn't make any move to deny him. He couldn't blame her, either. If she had said something similar, even if they were just in her kitchen, he would have agreed the same way. Devotion was the only way he could describe it.

Carefully balancing his weight, Harry used one of his hands and collected her wrists from where she had her hands buried in his hair. The length of his fingers acted as manacles as he pulled her hands away from his form. She looked at him with wide eyes, a pinch appearing in the middle when he guided her hands to lay above her head.

"I want you to keep these here," he instructed, pushing her hands into the pillow as, "Is that something y'can do for me?"

Gazing up at him, head and now hands cushioned with plush peach pillows, (Y/N) couldn't help the pout that pushed out her bottom lip. "But—I don't get to touch you?"

Looking at her like this, hearing those words wrapped in the delicate thrall of her breathy voice, Harry was almost surprised that a halo wasn't crooked on her head. He had expected flowers to sprout around her, a peach tree to shade them in the privacy of her bedroom. This gingerbread house should have even been a castle as far as he was concerned. She was too much to be just a baker in a small town; there had to be a secret stash of angel wings somewhere or a small country searching for a lost princess.

"You will," he soothed her, his thumb sweeping across the bone of her wrist, "I jus' want you to do this for me first. Is that alright? Can y'keep your promise?"

Stretching her fingers, (Y/N) was able to curl them around Harry's just enough. "I can. For you," she murmured to him, glittering gaze stitched to his features.

A lopsided smile pulled at Harry's lips, only a single dimple pressing into his cheek. "I knew you could, peach. You're so good, huh," he praised.

(Y/N) features bloomed into a fruit-sweet smile. "Kiss?"

Harry didn't hesitate before he was pressing his lips to hers, a warm kiss over her already-swollen mouth. (Y/N) happily sunk into the contact, her arms going lax under his hold. Skating down the length of her arms and down her body, Harry allowed his palms to luxuriate in the feel of her form.

While she could never be anything but a good distraction, Harry could now be acutely aware of every shift of her body, everything the curves of her form could offer. He was no longer muddling through how good it felt to be touched by her, how she made his skin come alive with every brush of her fingertips. He could commemorate every swath of skin, every cave and hill, everything that made up his safe place. He felt starved for her; he couldn't get enough, feel enough, touch enough.

This was worship to him. She was the only deity he could devote his life to, be a dedicated follower of.

"I love you," he told her, his brows dipping into a furrow as he sealed the words across her kiss.

"I love you, too, Harry."

His heart fluttered at the reciprocation. His hand stationed by her head twisted to bury itself among the strands of her messy hair, his fingertip tenderly grazing her scalp. The other was traveling down her body, tucking under the length of her sleep shirt. The loose legs of her shorts was his goal, the pads of his fingers brushing the soft skin of her inner thighs. She was wide open for him with his hips keeping her from getting shy and closing up on him.

The higher up he grazed, Harry awaited to be stopped by the hem of a pair of panties, his access to her skin cut off. But, that never came.

Instead, he was beaconed in by the heat that he had felt against his cock, now luring in his touch. Sticky wetness greeted him first, the slick having dipped over the crease between her thigh and her pussy. She was messy and warm, just for him,

(Y/N) shuddered at the first pass of his fingertip through her slit, her lips stuttering over his own. He couldn't help the smug smile that tugged at his lips at her reaction, especially when he chanced a graze of his thumb over her clit. Mouth parting, a tiny whimper fell from her lips. Harry swallowed the sound, allowing his slicked fingers to play through her wetness, brushing her clit and parting her slit until he felt her pulsing opening. Every touch made her that much stickier, he felt, every reason to keep him there, keep him touching.

Once his digits were coated, Harry tugged his hand out from between her legs, following the path through the leg of her shorts. He could feel her eyes trained on him as he brought his index finger to his mouth, the pad grazing the pillow of his bottom lip with a shine being left behind.

Harry couldn't help but to make a show of it when the first taste hit it tongue. His eyes fluttered closed on instinct, a moan rumbling through his chest. He could only imagine what kind of reaction he would have if he was ever given the chance to lick directly from the source. His eyelids tugged open to find her watching him with blown pupils, her cheeks warm and lips swollen. Her hands were still obediently placed above her head, but the fisting of the pillow case showed just how much effort was being put into the action.

"So sweet, peach," he crooned, pulling his shining finger from his mouth, "Jus' like I thought you'd be." He watched as her mouth parted, eyes trained on his hand. In the minimal light, a glaze could still be seen on his middle finger.

"Wanna try?"

Her reaction came in the form of an eager nod, her lips parting that much more as if an invitation.

There was no reason to keep her waiting as he gave in, slipping the slick digit between her open lips. The pad pressed against the dip of her tongue as she got her first taste, lips closing around him. She sucked with a gentle lave of her tongue over her skin, cleaning him off.

"Sweet, right?" he pressed, flexing his finger in her mouth with a press against the flat of her buds.

"Uh-huh," (Y/N) answered, mouth full and eyes half-lidded.

Slowly withdrawing from her mouth, a soft pop sounded in the room when Harry's spit-slick digit was freed. A thread of salvia clung to the tip of his finger, tying him to her for a lingering moment before the string bowed and broke.

"Miss me touching you?" Harry asked, noting the squeeze of her thighs around his hips. Her response came in a soft nod, a heavy breath fanning between them. He gave her a smug smile, dipping closer to her as his hand retraced a path between her legs, "I shouldn't keep such a sweet girl waiting then, should I?"

"No, please," she whined out, instinctively moving to touch him before she reminded herself to keep her hands just where they were.

Harry didn't linger too long this time, giving into her pleas by slipping his hand inside her shorts as soon as he could maneuver the fabric out of the way. His tender touch parted her slit, feeling just how slick she'd gotten when she gave herself a taste. The middle of her shorts were almost drenched, a damp spot beginning to show on the outside. He traced every dip and curve, feeling her clit in teasing circles before he was playing through her wetness. Without her hands, (Y/N) used her nose to nudge at Harry's jaw, catching his attention and drawing him into a messy kiss. A shiver had her thighs aching to be closed when he nudged at her opening.

Flattening his slicked hand against her hip under her pajamas, (Y/N) keened at the loss of his contact. His hips blocked her legs from closing and attempting to trap his hand between.

"Want me inside?" he asked her, his words being sipped through her puckered lips.

Shifting her hips under the palm of his hand, she bucked against him, urging his touch to return nowhere she needed him. "Please," she had whined again.

As much as he liked playing with her, he couldn't find any good reason to deny her. He was greedy for it too, anyway.

His hand swept across the small of her stomach until he slipped through her wetness once more. In a moment he was sinking into her, his middle finger parting the clench of her walls. She was warm and wet, snug and clinging to him before he'd even given her anything to properly cling to.

Lips parting, (Y/N) made to moan out his name, but Harry cut her off with a smear of his lips against her own. He swallowed down her whining, instead giving her that much more to focus on, more of his skin against hers to take her mind somewhere else.

She was restless against the sheets, her hands staying steady against the pillow despite how much he could feel her aching to reach for him.

"Keep them up, (Y/N)," he crooned, "Be good, peach. Like you promised."

"I promise, I promise, I promise," she babbled, breathless and just a step above incoherent.

(Y/N) was rewarded with a heavy kiss to her lips, the pad of his thumb pressing against her budding clit. Drawing his finger out of her, Harry felt every ridge and crevice, her walls molding around him. Her mouth against his melted, sticky and sweet, while her thighs around his hips tightened. Her body clung and bowed, different reactions pulling from everywhere.

The rhythm Harry created with his hand, finger sinking in a pulling out of her with brushes placed on her clit, was more than a reward for her, but was becoming a slight punishment to him. His imagination ran too fast and too wild thinking about what it would feel like to replace his hand with his cock between her legs. He could feel every rock of his hand against her, every rear back was now pressing against his bulge in a teasing pressure that disappeared too soon.

God, he wasn't going to last. He knew that from the second she had deepened their kissing, but now with her splayed underneath him and the heat of her pussy wrapped around his finger, that fact needed no other reassurance. Even the lack of her touch was enough to get his cock throbbing, knowing that she wasn't touching him all because he asked her to. There were no bindings keeping her away, all it was was a murmured request, and she was pliant for him.

If she bucked her hips just right, he feared he would be getting out of her bed with stained sweats.

"Harry," she whined against his lips, mouth falling open as she threw her head back into the pillow. He had curled his finger inside of her, pressing against his walls, finding the sweet spot inside her that gave way under the pressure.

More than anything, hearing her call out his name was almost enough to have him letting go already. This was one of those moments he still couldn't believe was properly happening; she was letting him touch her and she loved it enough so that she was slicking down his palm, bucking against him, and calling out his name like a prayer. This was better than any fantasy, any video, any previous encounter and he still hadn't even gleaned sight of her properly naked between the sheets.

"More, p-please," she sighed, her voice carrying between them humid and heavy, "I need you, Harry."

The front of his sweats soaked the first blurts of precum that leaked from his tip as Harry's stomach tightened at the sound of her plea. He was hard enough already, his muscles bunched and hard, cock heavy and balls tight. Turning his head, his breathing came in heavy blows as he smeared his lips across her cheek. He couldn't concentrate like this, not enough to give her a proper kiss.

Harry focused on giving her everything she wanted, pushing another finger inside her. The widened girth had her back arching, pressing her chest against his with soft breasts and a hammering heart. He thrusted them in at a lingering pace, long and deep with the reach of his fingertips against her farthest wall.

As much as he quelled that whiny part of her, there was still more she needed from him she could tell. She kept her hands cemented above her head, even with her squirming and wriggling.

"Please, please," she whined to him, voice dipping and dazed.

"What do y'want, peach? Tell me how to help you," he murmured, lips dragging over her skin.

Her response came out bubbling and rushed, without a thought, "I want to touch you, please, please. I promised I would keep them up, but-but I don't want to anymore."

They both knew there was nothing holding her back from doing just that, but she wanted to keep her promise to him. She wanted to wait until he told her it was okay, that she had fulfilled her promise. That was all he needed to hear.

"C'mon then, peach," he crooned, sinking heavily into her with his cock pressed against his thrusting hand. "Touch me."

Almost immediately, he could keep her touch skating over him. Fingers raked through his hair, swirling through the curls and scratching down his shoulders. Her fingertips made dents in his skin as she dragged them down his chest, feeling every cubed muscle and hard angle that made up his heavy body. He knew there were lines of scars she could feel through the thin material of his shirt, new and old, but just like when he had tugged her into the shower with him, she didn't pay them anymore. She focused on him only, none of the battered packaging;.

Soon enough, her fingers hooked on the waistband of his sweats. He was sure a dark stain was now sported across the front—whether it was from her or him, was to be decided.

"Can I touch you here, Harry? I want you to cum with me," she babbled, Harry feeling her voice in her throat against his mouth as much as he heard her.

A heavy, lopsided smile had his kiss going messy against her neck. "I can't say no to you when you've been so good, can I peach?"

That was all the permission she needed to slip her hand underneath the elastic waist of his sweatpants. Her fingers dipped through the swatch of curls around his base, a shiver heading up his spine at the touch of another over his skin. She didn't tease him the way he seemed so fond to do, her hand forming a fist around his cock with a heady grip. Precum had dripped down, making him slick enough to allow a few cursory pumps over his shaft.

Harry's own rhythm, his hand still tucked inside her shorts, stuttered. His mouth parted in a breathy moan, the sound painted across the column of her throat and sinking into her pores. He kept his thumb circling her clit, but there was nothing else he could maintain when he felt her sweep her hand up his length, thumb twirling around his head and collecting pearls of precum. She slicked his length with the beads, giving a wet sound to every stroke of her hand.

A real rumbling moan left his mouth then, (Y/N) using her free hand to cradle his cheek in her palm. She guided him into a kiss with her, taking on the taste of his pleasure just like he had before. Harry's eyes squeezed shut as he began to curate a messy rhythm inside her shorts, fingers sinking in and out, stretching her with every pass of his knuckles.

Tucked in cherry-scented, peach colored sheets, a fantasy Harry hadn't even known he had, came to life. His hand was soaked between her thighs, slick with every gush of wetness he was able to draw out of her with a puffy clit at the top of her slit. (Y/N)had her own hand tucked inside his sweats, taking advantage of the kind of reaction only she could have drawn out him, his length heavy and hard with enough precum to wet her hand and the front of his sweats.

In some ways, it felt juvenile, getting handsy the way they were. It was as if they were hiding from a dormmate, or hoping a parent didn't walk in on them after curfew. But, in many more ways, it was the hottest thing Harry had ever experienced. He just hoped the experience would last a bit longer than a handful of minutes.

(Y/N)'s bedroom was filled with the sound of their mouths parting and meeting, slick and messy, skin slapping and wet pumps. Harry's thighs felt tight, bunched muscles in his stomach hardening the bricks of his abs. He knew he had to have been pulsing in her hand.

"G-Gonna cum, peach?" he breathed against her mouth, "Said y'wanted to cum with me, right?"

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she bubbled out, mouth parting against his with the tip of her nose grazing his, "Are you—oh my god, Harry—Are you almost?"

She pushed her thumb over the crown of his cock, the tip pressing into his sensitive slit and pulling more pearly precum out. Harry had to draw away from her messy kissing then, his breathing too short and head too scattered to concentrate. He wanted to make sure he could make her cum with him, if not soon after.

Dropping his head to her chest, bridge of his nose gliding over her collarbones as he nodded absently. "I love you, (Y/N). I love you, so much, okay?" he breathed out, the declarations decorating her skin in honey thick drips.

His head was watery and muddy when her own strokes increased the match the pace of his over, the strength of her fist causing him to twitch in her hand. He made a point to find that spongy spot inside her with every pass of his fingers through her walls. He needed her shuddering and aching, eyes scrunched and throat filled with his name.

"I-I love you, too," she whimpered, pressing her lips against the top of his head.

Silly enough but true to the sensitive mess he'd become, that was all Harry needed to hear before he could feel himself emptying into her hand. Ropes of cum landed on his sweats, the fabric dampening and sticking to (Y/N)'s hand. She worked him through the throes, allowing Harry to sink into her, hand stuttering in her shorts, with his breath coming out lingering and humid over her skin. There was no word he could form, nothing he could say, nothing that could come out as more than a jumble of noises. He was too lost in space then, experiencing every pull of her hand over his length, thumbing at the tip of his cock and sliding through the mess he made just for her.

Instinctively, Harry sunk his teeth into a gentle bite on her collarbone. If he couldn't kiss her, he needs to do something, he thought. This was the only thing that his brain could process, the only thing that would claim her in the same way as a deep kiss could do.

As his peak began to wane, teeth nipping at the ledge of her collarbone, Harry felt (Y/N)'s thighs begin to fight to close around his hand over her center. She was pulsing now, her heart rate picking up with her hand stilling at his base. In his hair, her other hand fisted his curls, his scalp stinging. Every thrust of Harry's fingers was slowed with the way her walls shuddered around him, sucking him in and clinging to him until he stopped trying to leave her.

Wetness gushed around his digits, leaking out and wetting his palm. His thumb was heavy over her clit, matching the pace of his fingers pressing into the delicate spot inside her.

She was cumming for him, falling into him without a care. Harry's cock twitched, a lone spurt of cum pushing out, as he imagined what it would have been like to experience her orgasm with more than just his hand down her pants. If it was this intense, enough so that he almost felt as if he were experiencing aftershocks, he couldn't even begin to think about the pleasure that they could experience together properly.

But, Harry had a feeling he had a lot of time to try many different things with her.

The come down came slowly. Lazy touches were shared between them, nothing more than an excuse to feel one another. Soon enough, (Y/N) gave him an oversensitive whine. With a sleepy laugh, Harry slipped his hand out from her shorts, fingers wrapping around her wrist to follow suit.

(Y/N) laid heavily against the mattress, sheets rumpled around her with pillows haphazard around their heads. She was weightless just as much as she was planted in the moment.

A beat passed, Harry sitting up between her legs with his knees folded, that (Y/N) turned her glistening hand. Her eyes met his a moment later, a quiet pout puffing her lips.

"Sticky," she said, a limp whine to her voice.

Harry couldn't help himself, he had to dip down and press a kiss to her swollen lips. "I know, peach," he laughed, taking her wrist with his clean hand, "Let's get cleaned up."

Pliantly, (Y/N) followed right after him to her bathroom. He used his forearm to flick the lights on, sure his peach wouldn't love the idea of her orgasm being slicked around her house.

"Go ahead and wash your hands," he instructed her, pulling her boneless form to the sink.

(Y/N)'s movements were lethargic as she followed his directions. Pumps of sweet smelling soap scented the bathroom, Harry watching from where he stood behind her in the mirror. More than once, she met his gaze, hands under the warm water though it didn't rival the way her blood fluttered under her skin. She gave him a shy smile every time before she was directing her attention back on her hands. He thought it was sweet the way she was bashful now, even after what had just occurred in her room.

Harry kissed her shoulder when it was his turn to clean up, replacing her spot at the sink. The silence was a change to the mess of sound that had filled her bedroom, but it was nice to stand there with her, washing up so casually after something Harry was sure was going to live in his brain for quite some time.

Drying his hands, he bumped (Y/N)'s hip, a breathy laugh falling from her lips as she gazed up at him. "I'll pick out some clothes for us to change into," he told her, "Did y'want to clean up any more?"

"Yeah, I think so," she said softly, "You know where my pajama stuff is, right?"

"Mhm," he hummed, a quiet smile on his lips, "I'll pick something cute out for you, don't worry."

(Y/N) only laughed at him, moving around him before pushing him back to her room. With the door shut behind him, Harry left his smile to be seen by the floor. Making his way to his dresser, he felt incredibly light.

Finding the right drawer, Harry rifled through big t-shirts and soft pants to find a new pair of shorts for her to change into, a pair of panties being plucked out after from a different drawer. His own clothes were confined to a duffle bag that only left her room to be washed at his before returning with another set of clothing to get him through the week. (As much as he reveled in the feeling of having a home, a place just for him, he loved being at (Y/N) just a hair more. She liked having him there, too, she'd told him).

Placing her curated clothes out on her bed, he moved to change out of his sweats and into a pair of briefs he had pulled from his bag. Just as the waistband settled over his hips, (Y/N) emerged from the bathroom, light being flicked off behind her. She held her dirty shorts in her other hand, being left bare under the hem of her t-shirt. If not for the fact Harry was halfway sure he was going to be drained out for the next week, he would have gotten hard again, he was sure.

"Better?" he asked, a light smile on his lips.

"Much," she sighed, her own expression dreamy as her gaze landed on the clothing left out for her.

"Those okay?" he asked, rounding the end of her bed to stand beside her.

Her eyes lingered on him for that much longer, a smile blooming across her features. "They're perfect. Thank you."

It was so comfortable the way she stepped towards him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she took the clothing. She redressed with him right there, boundaries he thought would always be in place for someone like him, dissolving even without the promise of (Y/N) gaining something from his touch.

He didn't even realize he was still smiling until he was sharing a pillow with her once more. It felt normal to him.

He only noticed when (Y/N) finally said: "I like it when you smile."

Harry nestled that much closer to her over her rumpled sheets, their "sides" merging until there was little space left between them. "Yeah?" he breathed, smile widening without permission.

(Y/N) nodded her head, lifting her hand out from under her covers to prod at a dimple denting his cheek. "Yeah. I feel like I never saw you do it before, and now it's like you're smiling all the time since we came home."

He couldn't even try to fend off his grin then. He loved smiling for her; every one of these curls was for her, because of her.

"It’s all for you," he murmured.

(Y/N) simply kissed him.

—————

"Is this the place?"

Harry nodded from where he sat in the passenger seat. "Mhmm. I think we need to check in but after that, 's up to us on what to do."

Shifting the gears into park once she was boxed within the white lines, (Y/N) gave him a patient smile. "Ready, then?"

This time, his shaky hands were from giddy nerves instead of bottled up emotions. "I think so, yeah."

By the time they were out of her car and pushing through the front doors of the sanctuary, Harry had (Y/N)'s hand bundled in his own. He needed that anchor. He couldn't do this without her.

"Hi, how are you two?" The receptionist up front greeted them, hair messy on the top of their head with a fitted t-shirt on, sporting the company logo.

"We're good, thank you," (Y/N) spoke for them, "We don't have an appointment today, but we were hoping we could browse around, if that's alright."

The receptionist brightened from behind her makeshift desk, pulling a clipboard of paperwork out from a compartment in the podium before her. "Perfect! Was there anything in particular we were wanting to take a look at today?"

Harry squeezed (Y/N)'s hand. He piped up, "I—uh—I wanted to get a cat today. If y'had any."

A bubbly grin stretched the receptionist's lips. "I'm so happy you said that! We actually took in a few new girls this weekend, so you came on the best day!"

Before being allowed back, they were handed a clipboard with a set of forms to fill out. (Y/N) sat steadily beside him as he filled out all his info with a shaky hand (he was too excited and nervous to sit still and fill out paperwork), her own address and contact information filling in the second set of lines.

As soon as they handed back the info, a quick glance being delivered over the form, they were led back with the receptionist—Molly, she introduced herself as—acting as their guide. At the end of the hall, they stopped in front of a closed door with a sign pasted saying "Kittens at play! Be careful when opening!" alongside a simply drawn cat head.

Molly led them inside, the area filled with various cat toys and posts. Soft beds were littered about, a clean pee pad pressed in the back. Though, the room was void of any kittens for the time being.

"So, we usually start with letting in our adult guests first before we bring in any of the babies. Unless, you had a preference anyway?" Molly started, her eyes glancing up at Harry from where she was filling out another sheet of paper tacked to the wall.

"No, that's okay," he said, a tight smile on his lips. It was still a bit hard to give much away to anyone that wasn't (Y/N), but he was learning.

"Perfect!" Molly beamed, moving towards a door stationed on the opposite side of where they entered through, "I'm going to go help get everyone gathered, then they'll be in after. I'll leave you guys to bond with them and see if anyone stands, but just let me know if you need anything. I'll be by to check in and see if you're ready for the kittens soon."

With that, Molly left with a beaming smile. (Y/N) pulled him to a small ledge that acted as a bench in the room, the cliff painted a matching white to the walls. She allowed him to sit in his quiet, always so patient with him when he knew it was in her nature to give more conversation.

Soon enough, a sliding cat door was lifted with furry little bodies bursting through. All of those toys that had been lying limp on the floor were now being batted around or sniffed at, features and glittery strings being plucked and pulled. Claws scraped down scratch posts, chins rubbed across with purrs erupting here and there. The shier varieties were lured in by the plush beds, toes digging into the down as if the cats were kneading bread.

Harry didn't know where to look first. This was a shelter, so he wasn't surprised to see some of the creatures with bitten ears or mangy tails, some even had a lack of claws that made Harry want to cringe for them. Not all of them were perfect, having made it here from so many different places and lives, but seeing them interact with each other and their environment, they all looked so happy.

"(Y/N), I don't know if this was a good idea," he murmured to her, keeping station on the ledge in the room as he observed.

"Why not?" she blanched beside him, her features twisting.

Eyes skipping over all of the stripes and speckles, long hair and other clipped short, Harry's lips thinned. "I want to take all of them."

(Y/N)'s expression loosened into a bright smile, a peal of laugher mixing in with the padding of soft feet over the linoleum. "I knew you would! I told you this was going to be hard," she teased him, pulsing her hand in his, "But, we'll find one for you. The others will understand."

The latch to the kitty door was still open, a lingering cat walking through a few moments later. By then, the others were happily lounging and playing, some even daring to inch towards where they sat to get a sniff of the guests. But, the newcomer stuck close to the sides, observing the others more than anything else. Harry's gaze stuck to her.

Her fur was a dusty black, almost grey in the light, with speckles of white throughout. She had a white little nose, white toes, a patch the shape of a wonky bow on her chest, and a single white ear. Her tail was alert behind her, swaying with every cautious step. Observing her, he saw the way her eyes darted around the room, taking note of every noise, every creature, everything.

She was scared, Harry could tell. She had to be one of the newer ones brought to the shelter.

"Go say hi," (Y/N) encouraged him with a whisper, letting go of his hand only to nudge his shoulder.

Hesitantly, Harry crossed the room, feeling a bit guilty when he distracted any of the babies from their games or their precious sleep. His little black and white friend stopped by a cactus shaped scratch post, the structure short but still taller than her as she sat on the base. He moved carefully, not wanting to alarm her into hiding, or even leaving through the still open hatch.

Though she didn't skitter away, she still eyed him with a sharp blue gaze.

"Hi," Harry offered, reaching his hand out for her to sniff. Even with the rest of the noise happening, he could still hear the small huff of her breath as her nose twitched with every intake.

His new friend didn't back away, even when he grazed his fingers over the top of her head, ears flattening as if to give him room for a bigger pet. Inching closer, Harry happily continued smoothing his hand over her fur every time she leaned into him. More and more, she embraced his touches, showing him just where she would prefer to feel his fingers. She loved a pet under her chin, he learned, but would really accept scratches anywhere as long as he was gentle.

Soon enough, she was keening into his hand, pushing the top of her head into his palm with a graze of her wet nose against his skin. Faintly, Harry began to hear a purr. It was crackling and low, but genuine. Looking up at him, she even gave him a flutter of her eyes, lingering blinks he had learned in his research was a cat's way of reciprocating affection.

She was happy with him.

From behind him, he could hear (Y/N) stepping over the others in the room, cooing to some that sniffed at her while apologizing to others she bothered in her trek. He felt the static of her presence at his side though he didn't take his eyes off his furry companion.

"She's so pretty, H," she told him, a smile in her voice.

A little emotional, Harry nodded as he kept his gaze concentrated on his cat while he smoothed his hand down her back. "I think she's new."

"Me too. She seemed a little scared at first, so I figured." (Y/N)'s voice lingered between them, the black and white cat seeming to finally take note of the new person as she cast a glance towards Harry's peach. "I know you like them all, but she's special, huh?"

"Uh-huh."

(Y/N)'s hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing the cuff as she leant into him. "Do you want to go out and talk to them? See if there's anything they can tell us about her?"

As much as he would have loved to waste his day laying among all of these little creatures, he didn't want to linger for too long and end up really taking home more than one of them. (There was one that was very interested in his shoes, and if he played with his laces for even a second, Harry was going to break down).

"Yeah," he answered (Y/N), making the difficult choice of leaving his friend without any pets even when she stretched up to meet his hand.

He followed (Y/N)'s lead as she pulled him towards the door, knocking on the inside before someone came to help them out without a bunch of critters trying to sneak out after. Molly gave them a beaming smile as she shut the door behind them.

"Anyone you connected with? Or, are you ready for some of the babies to come in?"

Harry shook his head, his hand instinctively reaching to pluck for his cuticles until (Y/N) bundled it in her own. "The black and white one, with the white ear and toes—um—, what was her name?"

Molly brightened further. "That's one of our new girls that came in this past weekend," she started, leaning against the wall behind her, "She was rescued from a house of about five other cats. The owner wasn't taking proper care of them, so a few of them, her included, would go out and try to fend for themselves a lot. She's a little quiet and had a harder time socializing with the others, but we like to think this is her second chance. We never got a real name for her, but we've been calling her Rosemary."

(Y/N)'s hand tightened around his the second Molly had brought up a second chance. That was all he needed to know about who he'd met back there.

Glancing at (Y/N), Harry gave her a soft smile before looking to Molly. "I think I'd like to have her, please."

Molly almost squealed with excitement, her hands clasping together at her waist. "That's wonderful! She seemed to really like you from what we saw on the cameras, I think she's going to be so excited to go home with you!" She started back up the hallway, back to where they were checked in, Molly waving at them to follow over her shoulder. "We just need to go over some paperwork while I let the guys get her all squared away for you to travel, then we'll talk a little bit more about what'll be needed to care for her."

Taking them up to an office just off from reception, Molly left them for a moment as she went to collect the needed paperwork.

Sitting beside one another, (Y/N) looked up at him with glimmering eyes.

"You're going to take such good care of her, Harry," she murmured, her voice a quiet secret for only him.

Taking in a deep breath, Harry tried to stabilize the rattling in his chest. "Everyone deserves a second chance, right?"

Scooting that much closer to him, (Y/N) brought their linked hands up to press a kiss to the back of his.

"Right."

Harry didn't think before he smiled at her.

—————

vervain represents healing; forgiving mistakes from the past and staring over

eeeeeek thats it guys! now you know all the things ab rosemary h! thank you so much for sticking w me through his story and sending so much love and support:( this story has been so close to my heart for so long so it makes me so happy you guys have enjoyed how it turned out! lmk what you guys thought and if you have any fun blurbs or think like that please send them in!

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iqzo · 3 months

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OFFICER—GOJO , SATORU !

(prisoner gojo x police officer reader, black girl coded, fingering, rough, after hours, checking in, P in V no protection, blowjob, daddy kink, spanking kink, pussy slapping, spit kink(?), praise kink, public sex, ruined orgasm)

10:39PM.

Was the time you decided to check up on gojo, walking down the hall of where he stayed. You swallowed deeply as you approached his cell, banging your baton against the bars creating a sound which alerted the white haired boy, he gets off his bed with the sound of the bed springs squeaking. His foot shuffled against the floor, tiredly, he sighed heavily as he situates his arms through the bar.

eyes low with sleepiness, they rank up and down your body as you moved in front of his cell.

his bottom lip slowly slide into his mouth, performing a gentle bit lip with a soft grin tugging at his mouth. “hey pretty lady.” he grinned displaying his bright rows of teeth, your eyes rolled as you drew out the key for his cell. “hm? you ignoring me now?” he asked as he steps aside, allowing you to walk in.

he bites down on his lip, again, watching you and eyeing the way you looked in your working attire. the fabric hugging your shape perfectly, caused inappropriate thoughts to circle in his mind. he crossed his arms on his chest and takes a seat on his bed, spreading his legs out getting himself comfortable and adjusting the way the pants settled down on his body, “why are you ignoring me.” you picked up the head of the toilet and checked inside, it was your duty to check the cells for any drugs or weapons.

gojo sighed after you’d beckoned him to move over so you could pick up the pillow and check. your hands digs inside the pillowcase, you glanced over at gojo seeing him already staring at you, nothing new. you placed down the pillow back to its original spot before deciding to leave, before you could even reach the cell door.

gojo quickly runs up and blocks you from leaving, “why are you ignoring me, baby..hm?” he softly questioned as his hand trailered to your waist rubbing his thumb against your side as his eyes searched your face for the answers, you sighed.

“are you and Brittany fuckin’? is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” you finally answered gojo’s eyebrow instantly knits together after your comment, “baby..who’s brittany?” he asked with a genuine confused expression, you shift one weight to another leg and sighed heavily.

“the officer yesterday, who was in your cell gojo.” gojo’s eyes drift off indicating he was trying to bring back the memory from yesterday, his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth as a smile grew on his lips.

“baby, her? she tried fucking me but i wasn’t feelin’ it.” he said through a light chuckle, “oh..” you mumbled watching him bite down on his lips, eyeing you sensually, his fingers intertwined with yours leading you over to his bed.

“cmere ma..” he whispered through a rasp, he sat himself down on the bed legs slightly spread as he situates you down on his lap, “you look so sexy in your little uniform.” he whispered placing gentle kisses against your chubby cheeks, your face scrunched up trying to mush him away which didn’t do any justice seeing he’s more stronger than you.

“mwamwamwamwamwa.” he says against your ear, you giggled at his affection, “stop..” you muttered moving your face away, “i have to go, i’m on a time limit now.” gojo groaned obnoxiously, “they got you onna time limit?” he frowned watching as you slide yourself off his lap, fixing the way your uniform sat on your body.

“yes. i have 45 minutes and that’s all.” gojo sucked his teeth, “oh cmon, we can do a lot in 45 minutes baby.” your eyes rolled—“yeah, but i have others to attend as well.” gojo muscular arms wraps around your body trapping you from going anywhere! he threw you back on the bed straddling you and pinning your wrist above your head.

“i’m the only one you should worry about.”

“gojo,” you reply through a sigh, “nah uh. i haven’t seen you in weeks baby,” he mumbled as he takes soft love bites at your neck trailing to your jawline, “yo—hmm~ you have..” you moaned gently biting down on your lip, “hmm, oh yeah?” he replied whilst unbuttoning your uniform.

“m—mhm..” gojo love bites trails down your cleavage, his eyes dart up staring at you through his eyebrows, “youre so sexy,” he says softly, he leans back up with his tongue going along his pink medium sized lips, he moves down your body, ending up with his hands fondling with your belt.

“missed this pussy, s’much.” he muttered nearly ripping the belt off, “yeah, i can tell.” you chuckled staring at him, god he looked so sexy. his orange jumpsuit that suited him perfectly, some tattoos peaking out the sleeves his white hair curled framing his defined face perfectly, pale soft skin and veiny tatted scarred hands, everything about this man was breathtaking.

god were you glad you were assigned to keep watch over this handsome devil?

he chuckled softly, ridding you of the jeans tossing them aside as well with your belt, shoes, and socks.

he leans back down, keeping intense eye contact as he used his teeth to rid you of your pretty pink underwear’s. his eyes glanced down to see a trail of your juices connected to the underwear and that sweet pussy, he grunts.

he couldn’t wait. he ripped the panties off causing you to gasp, “gojo!” you whispered shouted taking a glance over at the cell door checking to see if anyone was nearby, “what?” he chuckled before sitting his head between your thighs, “i’ll buy you another pair.” before you had time to question him on where he was planning on getting the underwear, his lips already latched around your sweet cunt.

licking and slurping up your juices, groaning and moaning at your succulent taste. your digits ran through his velvet mane, your back arched off the uncomfortable mattress as he worked his tongue against your cunt, flicking as his lips sucked on that bud of yours, his hands rubs along your sides giving you that pleasure you’ve been waiting for.

“hmm~ you taste so fuckin good.” he hoarse gripping on the meat of your thighs as he pushed his head against your cunt causing the point of his nose to bumped against your bud making your legs twitch and enclose around his head, “f-fuck!” your head quickly slapped onto your mouth clogging out any noises, your anxiety was through the roof. your heart beating as you kept an eye out for anyone passing by while your mind went foggy from gojo excellent tongue work.

“cmon…” he hummed slipping his finger inside your warmth, the same hand he used, the thumb rubs against your pussy lips in a circle motion.

it was all too much, the pleasure was overwhelming.

everything crashed over you like a tsunami, sooner than expected. you squirt all over his face, releasing your essences as your hand held a tight grip on his tresses, your legs wrapped around his neck with your back arching off the bed.

your jaw slacked with nothing but muffled moans slipping out, “hmm, fuck.” gojo groans as he released from your cunt with a ‘pop’ he takes out his finger that was now coated in your juices, he licks it clean off the bone.

humming at the saccharine taste.

“shit i’m leakin’ baby,” he chortles as he grips onto the bulge that outlines the base of his cock, with the tip slightly protruding. your eyes spot the wet surface on his pants, he groans softly when he tightens his grip. “i wanna fuck you, so bad baby.” he muttered jaw slacked as he watched the way your pussy pulsates in his presences, “so come do it.”

“s-shh baby, shh.” he groans as his hips sent rough thrust against your cunt, causing your ass to ripple at the movement, “fuck gojo, hngh ~” you moaned into the pillow he had out for you, in your peripheral vision you noticed his hands gripping on the sheets. the veins in them protruding and flexing against his flesh, his head lolls back as he emits a low grunt, he propped his leg up, pressing down on your spine causing your back to arch. one hand rest on your shoulder as the next sends occasional blows to your ass,

“look at you takin’ this dick, so so well.”

you whimpered against the pillow both hands gripping the side of it, “it’s so big,” you muttered which made gojo chuckle, “and it’s all for you, baby” he moaned out as his hips moved like waves, giving you long breathtaking strokes, “look at that..” he grabs your wrist and rest it on your stomach allowing you to feel the bulge of his dick moving in and out of your sweet cunt.

“gojo…hngh~” your teeth sunk down on your bottom lip, “hm? is daddy doing a good job?” he questioned as he watched the way your cunt swallowed his cock, hearing the mixture of his juices and yours creating a squelching sound made shivers run down his spine, “mhm” you moaned out.

gojo hands traveled to the underside of your thighs, holding them and pressing it against your chest making him go deeper in your cunt, you gasped as he picked up his speed.

his balls slapping against your ass, your juices trickling down your slit gojo’s face contorted in pleasure, “fuck baby, you feel so good.” he moans out as the muscles in his jaw clenched, his jaw was slack as he continued with his rough strokes.

his swallowed dryly, quickly taking out his cock leaving you whimpering, “gojo..why’d you do that??” you groaned, “all fours baby.” he says sending a slap to your thighs, you let out a little whimper as you turned around. all fours like he wanted.

he bits down on his bottom lip, his hand gripping on the meat of your ass before he slaps your right cheek causing it to ripple as a response to his action.

“shit. i missed this so much, pretty pretty ass baby.” he groans as he used his hands to part your ass cheeks, his mouth hovering over—puckering up as a long string of spit slips out and lands on your ass dripping down your cunt, he grins as he saw your hole clench around nothing—he peers at you noticing you were already staring at him with pleading eyes.

“gojo..please.” you whispered as your ass wiggled softly in the air, “anything for you baby.” you didn’t even bother covering up the lewd noises, feeling gojo tip collide against that gummy spot made your eyes roll and your toes curl. he had a hand pressing down on your spine resulting to your arch getting deeper making him go deeper into your warmth. “fuck baby,” he moans along with you. spit begins spewing from out the corner of your mouth coating his only pillow, the explicit lewd squelching of your cunt made shivers run down his spine you could’ve sworn you felt him throb inside of you.

the sound of his balls hitting against your cunt rubbing the bud making your thighs jolt at the sensation. “u bout t’cum baby? hm?” he whispered as he had his body leaning over yours, his hands now at your waist keeping you at a steady past on his cock, words—you couldn’t form em. not with gojo’s insane pace of his hips, he moves a hand off your waist and slithers it up to your neck. using two fingers to grip your jaw and crane it at a certain point so you could see him as well with him seeing how fucked out you looked.

he chortles “look at that. hmm..” he grins as he slowed his pace down and deliberately moves his hips, his cock moving in and out in a slow yet steady fashion. “g-! ahh~” you body trembled beneath him as your juices squirts out coating his cock and lower stomach, gojo’s stomach caves in feeling his orgasm approaching too. the way your gummy warm walls clenched around his throbbing cock immediately he paints your insides white giving you a final thrust beforehand.

his body falls on top of yours his muscular arms that had tattoos on em enclosed around your body, you sat in silence with him for a few minutes before he picks his head up from the crock of your neck.

“i can’t wait till i get out. i’m putting a ring on yo finger.” he muttered as he pecks your head, you giggled softly. “where are we going for the honeymoon?” you softly asked as you turned yourself over onto your back as gojo rest in your cleavage. sending occasional kisses to your breast.

“can’t tell ya.” he winks making you softly chuckle pushing his head away, “i gotta go.” you muttered as you slowly sat up with the help of gojo who was curling and pouting at your comment. “nooo.” he says as he wrapped his arms around your marked up body, placing you under him. “stay.” he whispered softly against your ear, you sighed and gave in.

“fine.”

#anime x black!reader #jujutsu kaisen #iqzo<3 #x black reader #spotify #black reader #armin x y/n #aot connie #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo is my man #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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derfpossessions · 9 months

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Rented You Out - Part 2

(Read Part 1 if you haven’t already!)

Chapter 1 - Exposed

Moments after Markus got ejected from Denholm’s body, he got up and got dressed with the extra clothes he brought. He then got Denholm dressed too. He got very curious on the switch behind his back, which was currently on “on”. He then flipped it back up, where all of a sudden Denholm started breathing. The rip on his back was also completely gone. He was human again. Markus saw this as an opportunity to escape Denholm’s house, when suddenly he woke up. “Ma..Markus??? Wha..what are you doing here??”, Denholm said while breathing heavily. Markus didn’t moved a single muscle. He didn’t even wanted to turn around as he was going to open the door. “Markus hold on! Why do I feel… tired.. like my insides hurt so bad…” Denholm added. Again, Markus didn’t say a word. “Markus I knew you did something to me. What did you do?! Markus!” Denholm got increasingly angry. Markus finally turned around and screamed, “You were turned into a goddamn suit! You got kidnapped and got abused by a group of men and left you at the gym where I discovered you and then you became a literal bodysuit so I decided to put you on for a day so I can spend time more closer to you!” Markus abruptly said everything that happened. Denholm was stunned. “What?!?” He stood up. “Look at your back! It has a switch in it! If you turn it on, you’ll lose consciousness and become a bodysuit that anyone can control!” Markus started explaining how it worked. Denholm was more shocked to see the lustful selfies that Markus took on his phone which he forgot to delete. “Bro listen… I’m tired of all the bullshit I’m going through right now so please. How do I fix this??” Denholm begged Markus. The two got more tense and Markus was put under pressure. “Why is this my fault?! All that you should know is that I was the one who discovered you! Who saved you! Who covered up a story for you! And I did that ALL for you because I love you!” Markus started tearing up, and he walked away. “Markus please.. don’t leave me. I know you love me but I love someone else.. but please. Don’t leave me here.” Denholm begged Markus to stay. Markus reluctantly agreed. Time flew by and the two started discussing on how to handle the situation, then something else came up to the discussion, Denholm’s father. He is currently in pain right now and is suffering from a severe chronic disease, and Denholm doesn’t know how long he will last. His family is also running low on funds to sustain his father. Markus then jokingly said, “since we have you as a bodysuit, why not we turn that into a rental? Like someone would try to live your life in exchange for money.” “Are you crazy? That would of course violate me!” Denholm got mad. “Please trust me, I will take good attention of your body while you’re not conscious. I promise. I will set out limitations for the people that will use you.” Markus tried to convince Denholm, to which he said, “Well if that’s the only way… so be it.”

Chapter 2 - Mr Denholm

The next day has passed, Paula and Denholm went to school together as usual. Markus waited for Denholm so they can set out their plan. Conveniently and inconveniently, their teacher, Mr Singh was walking around the halls when he overheard the two’s conversation. He confronted the two of them and asked, “What in the blackmarket is going on here?!”. Markus said, “But.. its true.. You can live through as Denholm because he has the ability to turn into a suit..”. “Please, don’t expose us!”, Denholm begged.

Mr Singh then grinned. “Expose? Well I think you got the wrong idea. Actually I NEED to live someone else’s life! This is a wonderful idea to have!” Markus and Denholm were in shock. “In fact, allow me to be your very first customer. I really wanted to know what it feels to go back to high school. Especially as a popular boy like you.” Mr Singh said.

At the school’s boys shower room, the three initiated their plan. “Are you ready Denholm?”, Markus held his best friend’s hand. “Yes. All for my dad. Take care of me bro.”, Denholm surrendered to his fate. Denholm got undressed and wore only a bathroom towel as Mr Singh got prepared.

“Just turn on the switch and start wearing inside him. Legs first then up to head.” Markus explained. Mr Singh went to the other room and got undressed. Denholm was turned around. “Ready when you are”, Denholm said. Mr Singh switched it on. Denholm was a suit again.

There was minimal sound when it happened, so Markus assumed it was going very well and smooth. After around 5 minutes, a new Denholm emerged from the other room, wearing teacher’s clothes.

He was just looking at Markus while chuckling. “De..Denholm? What happened?” Asked Markus. “No. it’s Mr Singh.”, “Denholm” replied. Markus’ heart sank as he saw Denholm looking like a hot math teacher. “Woah… sir.. you look attractive..” Markus was in awe. “Don’t call me sir, that’s awkward! Just call me Denny! I’ll be your bro for the day!”, said Mr Denholm. Markus nodded and whispered to himself, “Damn. Daddy got more daddified?! What in the actual fuck?!?”

Chapter 3 - Youth in You

Mr Singh was filled with ecstasy at that time. He didn’t know where to start, if he wanted to ace a math test, play at the football field, get cheered by his co workers at the faculty, or make fun of the students that he hated. You name it.

“I am so grateful for this Markus. I’m feeling SOOO ALIVEEEE!!” Mr Singh or Denny said as the two walked down the hallway.

“Umm… Mr Singh-erm- Denny, it’s just weird to hear my friend say that, considering that he always feels down.” Markus felt like he was always missing something from Denholm.

“What?? But I’ve always seen this kid as the happiest man alive! And who would’ve thought I would ever see the world through these eyes!” Denny said while admiring Denholm’s body.

“Well you wouldn’t get it sir. If only you witnessed the time when he told me that he didn’t wanted to live his life AT ALL. It’s always the people that seem happy who actually feels miserable in their lives.” Markus was sad.

“Geez… that’s really awful to hear. I’m sorry if I was insensitive about it. I wish I could hug your best friend right now to comfort him.” Denny stopped smiling and turned very serious.

“I mean… can I hug you sir?? Or him..” Markus was about to tear up.

Denny opened his arms to hug Markus. “It’s okay, come here. Rub it in.” Markus embraced Denny’s body.

“May I ask why… are you crying??” Denny wondered.

“Well… um… I love him. I love Denholm.” Markus confessed to Mr Singh.

“Oh-ohh… that’s really.. that makes a lot of sense now.” Denny was shocked.

Without a warning when Denny turned around, Markus grabbed him and kissed him on the lips. Denny hesitated and pushed him away.

“Markus what the fuck?!? Why did you do that?!” Denny was bewildered.

“I’m sorry!! I’ve been wanting to do that to him for a long time! But the rejection hurts too much!” Markus was desperate.

“Well Markus let me tell you something, you are a GOOD kisser.” Denny was impressed. “I know you’re hurt and all, but what about you forget about all that and let’s have a little bit of… fun”, He added.

“What the fuck? Sir! This is wrong! You’re violating my friend! I’m violating my friend!”

“Well, the contract stated I could do ANYTHING I WANT. So come here to my classroom before I change my mind.” Denny was pissed but maintained his seductiveness. Markus had no choice but to submit to him. Denny then grabbed him into the Math classroom to have a little fun time.

Chapter 4 - Stuck With You

The tension between Markus and Denny increased, as Denny closes the classroom doors and turns off the lights. He then proceeds to take his shirt off.

“Have you ever wondered what you and Denholm would’ve been if he was actually gay?”, Denny flirted with Markus.

“I think about that every night..”, Markus sighed.

“Well you don’t have to wonder now 🫦, Come here baby.” Denny started to move towards Markus. Markus felt mixed emotions as he indulges on Denny’s warm body.

Then, here comes the fun part. As Markus undresses to reveal his hardening 5.7 inches down under, Denny looked in awe. “Hard already? Let’s do it.” Denny then stripped to reveal his new rubbery 6.8 inches.

The room suddenly got sweaty, and suddenly Denny’s body shimmered in glimmering white. It was all so perfect, like a movie scene, something Markus would’ve longed for, and now he finally had it.

“Yes… yess.. YES!!” Markus started screaming. The pleasure was so good and it felt so real for him. He never been happier in his life until that moment. The chalkboards rocked as the two slammed each other against the wall, sharing a sweet long kiss as the both of them felt each other. It was a goddamn fever dream.

Then, came the loads. “Hey stop! Don’t we need protection??!”, Markus stood up from the floor. “Why the fuck do we even need that?! This is a rubber dick!”, Denny laughed, then pulled Markus to the ground. Denny couldn’t resist it but to release massive amounts of load. Denny then inserted the huge thing into Markus, and the silicone-like texture made it more pleasurable for Markus.

The creams came pouring down, and that’s when Markus felt like he was drowning, but that’s when he could finally breathe. It was too good to be true. Well you know what else is too good to be true? NOT GETTING CAUGHT.

Suddenly, students from outside heard the blunt noises that were coming from the classroom, and knocked to see if something was up.

“What the fuck do we do?!?” Markus whispered.

“Go clean up the mess! I’ll assure them everything is FINE!” Denny said while wiping off the cream on the walls. The two got to work.

Denny opened the door and saw Denholm’s friend, and the student council Vice President, Sabrina. “Bro, what’s happening in there?” Sabrina looked at him weirdly as she noticed that Denholm looked and stood very oddly.

“Hey Sabrina, it’s nothing! I was just substituting for Mr Singh’s class and decided I would lock myself in the room to prepare!” Denny smiled.

“And the screams? I’m sure that was also part of the practice?” Sabrina looked in disgust.

“Well, I was raging over something that’s all. Say, why not you do me a favor and go to the faculty to pick up my stuff for class.” Denny redirected the question.

“YOUR stuff? Seriously dude what the hell is up with you today? You didn’t showed up to the council meeting this lunch and now I’m put in trouble because of some random screamings that came from this room!” Sabrina was mad.

“Well I’m sorry, I’ll promise I’ll make it up to you.” Denny apologized. She walked away as Markus appeared behind Denny’s back. Denny went to the window to have a talk with Markus.

“There’s no screamings, but there IS creamings.” Markus joked. The two laughed uncontrollably.

“I enjoyed it while it lasted, but sadly things need to come to and end.”, said Denny.

“You should spend the rest of the time hanging out with people. Trust me Denholm literally gets along with everyone. He makes everyone feel special.” Markus said.

“Ok, I’ll meet you later at the parking lot. And I promise, I’ll bring him back in one piece.” said Denny. The two then had one last kiss before Denny said goodbye.

Chapter 5 - Sweet Goodbye

As Markus pulled up to Denholm’s house, it was all set. It was time for Denholm to return.

“Are you ready Mr Singh?” Markus asked.

“Well I am gonna miss being this kid. He’s all I ever wanted to be.” Denny said as he looked into Denholm’s reflection and felt his body one last time.

“Here it goes. Goodbye.” Markus said. Mr Singh unzipped Denholm’s body and went out. Then, Markus turned off the switch. Everything is now back to normal. Mr Singh then bid farewell to Markus to head home.

“See you tomorrow, kid. Calculus homework is due.”, said Mr Singh.

“Markus.. is that you?” Denholm mumbled as he tried getting up from the ground.

“Denholm… I- I’m…” Markus couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Why.. why does my arms hurt so bad… And it felt like I pulled my groin… Argh… it hurts.” Denholm struggled to walk.

“Well.. nothing happened I promise!” Markus was shaking.

“That’s good to hear, you should get going now. Thank you so much bro.” Denholm hugged Markus as he left.

“Well, at least the real you is still kind to me. But I know all I’ll ever get is a hug.” Markus whispered as he walked away from Denholm’s place.

#male bodysuit #male body possession #male meatsuit #bodysuit tf #male tf #male body swap tf #male bodysuit possession #bodysuit possession #male transformation #male muscle growth #male muscle suit #bl story

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year

Text

Right Side Of Wrong

Warnings: JJ & John B’s off limits sister 👀

I love this trope. I’ll write it 100 times 🔥

Part Two

I propped myself up on some pillows and leaned back against my headboard, tangy scented smoke filling the air as I exhaled from my weed pen. I was freshly showered wearing only a pair of boxers with my legs sprawled out, my comforter kicked to the foot of my bed as I fought to erase the inappropriate thoughts I was having about my best friends little sister.

Y/N Routledge had been in my life as long as John B had. The three of us did everything together until we didn’t. She was my annoying little sister too, until she wasn’t. I constantly had to hear about John B being the over protective big brother and running everyone off that looked at her. Or asked about her. Or so much as walked in her direction.

For awhile, I was helping run off all the boys. Now part of me was glad that no one had touched her yet. She had the face of an Angel and the body of the devil. And she slowly began to realize that. She dressed for attention now and she was sure getting a lot from it. It was hard not to notice with her long, tan legs and perky tits. Her ass bounced with every step she took and my palm itched to smack the smooth flesh.

I couldn’t sleep without her invading my every fantasy. I wanted to know what she felt like.. on the inside and the outside. I wanted to taste her skin and her pussy. I wanted to know what those tits looked like when she bounced on my cock. I wanted to know what she sounded like when she came and when she gagged on me. I wanted to know if she was a squirter or a crier. If she’d like her hair pulled or choked. She was a brat, she probably liked both.

“JJ?” I blink back to reality, seeing Y/N standing at the foot of my bed in the same tiny bikini she wore in the hot tub tonight. I thought the vein in John B’s forehead was going to burst when he saw her. I suddenly realized I was sporting a hard on and her eyes were locked on it, making me harder. I yanked the comforter up over my waist to conceal myself but the damage was done. She wasn’t hiding her curiosity.

“W-what are you doing in here, Y/N?” I asked, trying to slow my racing heart. All the blood in my body seemed to be racing to my dick and I couldn’t stop it. She looked like a fucking wet dream.

“I just wanted to check on you. See if you needed anything.” She said with fake innocence, batting her lashes at me as she rounded the bed and sat on the edge next to me. My hands fisted the comforter as she checked me out, not even bothering to hide her interest. Her eyes lingered on the shark tooth necklace, probably remembering the night she made it for me.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” I tried to keep my voice even but my dick was so hard it hurt. I was going to have to rub one out at least a four times tonight.

“You sure about that? Nothing bothering you?” Her eyes moved down to my waist where I was clutching the comforter. Why was she doing this? The ultimate forbidden fruit offering herself up on a silver platter.

“Nope.” I swallowed hard.

“Okay.” Her brows furrowed, obviously not buying it. I watched as she reached behind her back and untied her top, letting it fall freely and exposing her perfect tits to me. I looked away, heat coursing through my body.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” I bit out. She took my hand, placing it over one of her tits and making me squeeze.

“Seizing the opportunity.” Her voice is soft and seductive, reminding me that I am not a strong man. Her hand falls from mine as I start to squeeze and pinch her nipple, rolling it between two fingers. I wanted to pinch her clit next. How wet would she be right now for me?

“We can’t do this.” I pull my hand away and she gives a small pout.

“Why not?” She tries to pull the comforter back but I don’t let her. I fix her with a knowing look, trying to keep my resolve from slipping.

“You know why. You’re like my sister.” I spit the words like they leave a bad taste in my mouth but she only chuckles, getting to her feet then throwing her leg over me to straddle me. I throw my hands up, sinking against the headboard as far as I can.

“You don’t look at me like a sister.” She leans in and whispers in my ear, her hands against my bare chest.

“I’m getting all this male attention when I’ve only ever wanted yours, JJ.” I fight to catch my breath but I can’t. My dick was jabbed into her thigh and I could feel the heat from her pussy.

“Stop.” I pant, wishing I had the strength to push her away.

“But you’re so hard, JJ. I can feel you.” His sultry voice in my ear as my eyes almost rolling back in my head. I can’t move my hands from their spot fisting the comforter or I’m liable to shove her on her back and eat that forbidden pussy like it’s my last meal.

“John B.” I bite out, shuddering when her lips ghost over my cheek and down my neck.

“This isn’t about him. This is about me and you and what’s coming. What’s been coming.” She kisses my neck just once and my restraint withers away by half. I swallow the lump in my throat just as her tongue swipes out and licks where she just kissed.

“He would hate me.” I rasp, feeling her tongue and teeth along my sweet spot. I had chills up and down my arms. She was pushing every single one of my buttons with her arms draped over my shoulders and her tits pressed against my chest. Her nipples were so hard against my skin, begging for my teeth.

“He would understand.” Then she bites me. Hard. It’s claiming and something inside me snaps. My arms circle her waist and I slam her down on her back on the bed, making her gasp in surprise. An animalistic sound leaves my throat as I gaze at her willing body. I couldn’t decide where I wanted to start but my cock knew.

I dive down and suck one of her pert nipples into my mouth, slapping my hand over her lips in time to muffle her cries. Her hands find my hair as I suck and bite her needy little buds one at a time until she’s withering and whimpering beneath me.

My hand slid between us and I groaned, feeling the heat and juices slipping from her already. My thumb barely swiped over her clit when there’s a pounding on my door, snapping me from my trance. I jump back, getting as far from her as I can when John B’s voice comes through the door.

“Yo, you hungry? We’re ordering pizza.” My heart was racing, I could barely register what he said as I palmed my chest. Y/N kicked me gently to get my attention.

“Yea! Pizza’s fine!” I call back.

“Okay! Have you seen Y/N? She wasn’t in her room.” John B asks and I move further away from her and her tempting tits. Her eyes narrow at me as she tries to determine what I’m going to say. God, if he hadn’t knocked on the door I would’ve fucked her. Fucked her with a house full of Pogues like she wasn’t off limits to everyone on this island.

“No, last time I seen her she was outside!” I call back, yanking on a pair of sweats and grabbing a pillow to conceal my hard on. Y/N spreads her legs and slides her delicate hand down her body, slowly running the tip of her finger over her clit until she panting softly. Oh god.

My dick jerks with the need to be buried inside something hot and wet.

“Okay, I’ll check outside.” John B’s voice makes me jump again, my nerves fucking shot.

“Okay! I’ll come help!” I hear his disappearing footsteps and I move to run after him when she slips her bikini bottoms to the side, revealing a glistening bare cunt.

All the air leaves my lungs and I step back until my back meets the wall, my jaw hanging open and my knees damn near giving out. She whimpers softly, circling her clit and gathering her wetness on her fingers before plunging a finger inside herself.

“Cum with me, JJ.” She moans under her breath, adding a second finger to her clenching hole.

“Nope. Nope. I can’t do this.” I feel like I’m having a heart attack as I make a mad dash for my bathroom, shutting myself inside just as I hear her rapidly approaching footsteps. I lock the door and plant my back against, hearing her curse on the other side.

“I won’t stop, JJ. I won’t.” I groan, hearing the determination in her voice before she walks away.

I quickly shove my sweats and boxers down, fisting my cock hard as the picture of her fingering herself plays on loop in my head. I could hear how wet she was. Her pussy should’ve been sucking on my cock, not her fingers.

I barely stroke myself three times and I cum harder than I have in a very long time, unable to catch my breath as I realize just how royally fucked I am.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #obx2 #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #rudy pankow #outerbanks rafe #outer banks #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx3

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ilys00ga · 2 months

Text

𝐒𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞.

➞ pair: yoongi x female reader.

➞ word count: 4k

➞ synopsis: buying a pretty vase from an antiques shop can't be that bad of an idea, can it?

➞ genre: fantasy, some angst, bitter sweetness is good for our hearts, fluff, hurt/comfort, cursed ghost!yoongi...

➞ A/N: So, this isn't the fic I talked about before, but I still wanted to post something while I take my time to figure out what the hell I wanted the other fic to be. this is purely inspired by a random prompt I found on a random website, and I wanted to give it a try. I hope u like it <3

ps. PLEASEEEE !!!!!!! do not hesitate to send me ur feedback (comments, asks, reblogs... whatever u want) !!!!!! just give me ur opinions. I'd love to hear it all :,)

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The tips of my fingers meticulously traced the lines and patterns that coated the vase between my hands. A gorgeous ceramic vase that came with an even more gorgeous lid I had come upon at the small antiques store a few hours earlier, which—in my honest, humble opinion—was poorly and deficiently frequented given the amount of goodness it vends.

It was one that I’ve passed by many times on my way to work before, located in an old street busy with other art stores. Each time I’d stopped at it, fascinated by the items I could see through colorless glass, I’d get that strange desire to enter and discover what it had to offer me, but it wasn’t strong enough to pull me inside.

Broken or not, there’s magic hidden in those old items. Stories and emotions traveling from the past all the way to my heart.

Until one day, I decided to surrender to those powerful items and made my way through the front door. It was indeed a dusty magic shop.

I put the vase on the table with extra care and opened the lid, my dog running around somewhere in the other room. A quick look inside the vase, however, had my brows rising.

"Is this.. powder?" I asked myself.

Back in the shop, nothing hinted that the vase contained anything, nor did the owner utter a single word about it. She, in fact, didn't even seem to be that interested in her very few customers, if I were to be honest. The newspaper she was reading throughout all that short period of time I was in there had her eyes fixed on it, for the most part.

I swallowed hard, feeling like my heart had been ripped off my chest and drowned in icy cold water with the thought of getting unknowingly tangled in some illegal activities.

Loud barks, then the crashing of something cut my new overwhelming awareness short, and I sprinted in search of my hyper dog.

"What did you break this time, Holly?" I made quick work of cleaning the mess Holly had made, giving him some treats because he looked so cute nonetheless then returned to what I had decided to call a cursed beauty later on.

Upon entering the room, the sight of a man looking through my limited collection of vinyls with his back facing me made my legs freeze in their place, and my heart almost slipped out of my mouth in another alert panic.

"What the hell?!" my lips shouted before I could even think of finding something to defend myself in the face of that stranger.

The man dropped the disk in his hands and faced me with wide eyes. His startled expression quickly snapped into a kind smile, and he spoke, "Hey, are you the one who opened the urn?"

"Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?!!" my heart was pounding in my ears. I quickly went through the details from the moment I walked into the apartment to that of when I came back to the room, checking if I missed any hints of somebody breaking in or not.

The stranger started walking towards me with an arm stretched out, and I quickly backed away, looking around before grabbing the first hard object I could find within my sight line, "Stay away from me!"

"Relax, I'm not here to hurt you." He stopped in his tracks and raised his hands in the air, "I'm Yoongi, Min Yoongi, and you just set me free from that damn urn. Thank you, by the way."

The more he talked, the colder my blood was running in my veins and the slippier the object was becoming as I gripped it with sweating hands for dear life. Nothing he said made any sense. All I could do was shout in frustration, "What the hell are you talking about?!"

The patter of paws slapped across the corridor floor, and Holly came running into the living room. The dog started barking when he saw the stranger, but the latter didn’t even flinch. Instead, he sighed, breathing heavily through his nose, and then looked back up at me. But before he could say anything more, I huffed.

"Are you a serial killer?" I wanted to cry. Actually, he looked too pretty to be that coldhearted. I figured that maybe if I cried, he'd feel bad and leave me alone. Or maybe, if I took the chance to launch at him first, right then and there, that'd do something.

I could either die an honorable death, attempting to fighting back, or lay myself bare skinned for my predator, and no one would be a witness outside of the walls of the room that were only getting colder and colder by the ticking seconds.

Well, maybe Holly would, but he’s busy barking, not moving from his place at all.

"Look, I really don't know how you ended up here. I-I don't want to know, yeah? I will even let you go and not speak a single word about this. Just please don't kill me. Yeah? I'd do anything you want, just- please?" I began to plead, sweating like crazy even though the room around felt too icy.

The man didn’t reply, crouching down to lure my dog over. Holly’s small head cocked to the side before slowly moving closer to him. If I weren't busy trying to steady my breathing while simultaneously making sense of whatever was going on in the middle of my living room, I would’ve palmed my face.

"I told you, I'm Yoongi and I'm not a serial killer. This thing you have here, the one you just opened," he explained, nodding towards the open ceramic vase on the table, "I, my soul was trapped in there."

I blinked, a beat or two slipped through my lips, then muttered, “You’re being serious?”

“Why would I lie about something like this?” he retorted, hands petting the pet on his lap, and added in a softer voice, “I understand how crazy this sounds, but in simpler words, I was trapped inside and once the lid was lifted, which is what you have done, I was able to get out.”

“Oh, so you say once the vase is shut again you’ll go back there, is that it?” I breathed out, picking my words cautiously.

He hummed and nodded, still focused on the dog he was playing with. Taking my chance, I rushed towards the table. With trembling hands, I grabbed the lid and screwed the vase shut.

"No, wait! Don't clo-"

Silence…

The familiar sound of multiple clocks ticking together, hand in hand and almost perfectly at the same time, welcomed me into the antiques shop.

The shop was practically empty. No customers were in sight. My only audience was the oil paintings hanging on the walls, the lamps and the crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, the tables and the surfaces that displayed everything: from old jewelry to dolls and collectible plates and cups, the sculptures in different shapes and sizes scattered everywhere, the old books, cameras, vases and musical instruments…

They all stared at me and the vase I was holding tightly to my chest.

Walking ahead, I reached the front counter where the same old woman stood reading some newspaper. Despite the clearly audible bell that rang every time the door was swung open, she didn't seem to be recognizing my entrance. I cleared my throat in an attempt to grab her attention, but it fell on blinded ears.

Sighing, I put the vase on the counter with a thud and declared my aimed objective, "I'm here to return this."

"No exchange, no refund." The woman finally, but dryly, replied.

"You have to understand, I can't keep this anymore." I insisted.

"No exchange, no refund!" She repeated in a stern tone, looking up and meeting my eyes.

"Fine," I took a deep, long breath in, "you're the owner, tell me what do I do with it then."

"Its colors go very well with any kind of furniture, but I'd say keep it on a shelf amidst other decorations." The contrast between the way she spoke so friendly and the tight smile she had on her lips poked at my nerves.

"Are you kidding me? I just said I don't want this cursed thing anywhere near me! It has a weird powder in it! and-" I paused, lowering my voice despite the fact that the shop was empty—minus me, its owner and its goods, "some weird ghost appeared out of it!"

The antiquarian silently folded her newspaper, put it on the counter in front of her, and stayed silent for a while, staring deeply into my eyes.

"Use the ashes and break the curse." She mumbled.

"Ashes…? What?"

"You heard me. Break the curse and save the dead." She didn't say anything further, busying herself with the newspaper again, and that was my key to leave.

"Next time, don't sell cursed stuff to innocent people who don't have enough time on their hands." I turned on my heels and stomped out of the shop with the vase between my hands.

Three days later:

“Alright, talk to you later.”

Stepping into the apartment, I hung up the phone and put it on the small coffee table. Holly was curled up on the sofa with his nose tucked under his tail. My body naturally bent down, and I pecked the pup’s head affectionately.

It had been exactly three days since I came back from the small antiques shop, put the vase on the shelf, and never dared to touch it again. Every morning and every night, I’d stared at it and contemplated whether I ought to open it and investigate what the hell was going on or not. The shop owner’s words never left my ears, ‘break the curse and save the soul.’

Three days had passed, and I still hadn’t made my mind up or got to any simple conclusion whatsoever. The thought of having somebody else’s ashes in my house made my stomach twist in ways, yet somehow I couldn't find the courage to empty the urn.

Well, at least it wasn't coke or something of the kind. That thought floated in my head as I lay on my bed the same night I’d come back from the shop.

Stuck in a quandary between the fear of what could be awaiting me and the burden that was unceasingly weighing both my heart and mind, I knew that having a staring contest with that damn container day and night wasn’t going to do me any good.

After yet another fruitless debate between me and my conscious mind, I slowly walked towards the shelf, carefully put my hand over the lid, lifted it up and stared at the powder—the ashes inside.

I waited, nothing happened. Looked around the room, nothing happened.

For a moment, I could feel a scoff bubbling its way up my throat. It was ridiculous, I felt ridiculous for expecting something, for believing that something would happen and that all of that madness was real.

How could a tale about the soul of a cursed, handsome man popping out of an ancient vase be real?

But then again, I recalled the thing the old woman had said to me, as well as that encounter I had with the strange man. Very vividly clear. I remembered it, it happened, it was real.

"You didn't throw it away." A low voice came from behind and made me jolt in surprise.

There he was, the strange man—Yoongi leaning on the doorframe with both of his hands tucked in his pockets.

Part of me was grateful he was there because I didn't have to worry about my mental well-being deteriorating. But the other one shivered, creeped out by his presence, by the whole situation.

"Thank you." Why is he so polite? "I was scared you too would throw me away." Oh?

I lightly shook my head, trying to find the proper words to express myself, and I said, "Listen, I need answers."

“I figured. What is it that you want to know?”

"I-I talked to the person that sold this thing to me, and she said that I need to use these… ashes to break a curse.” Somehow, my brain was more than aware of the fact that the man standing a few steps away from me was most probably not human.

“yeah…?” He mumbled back, “didn’t she say how to do that?”

I shook my head ‘no’, and if his disappointed, broken look surprised me, I tried my best not to make it visibly noticeable.

“What the hell are you exactly?” I asked. I wasn't sure what emotion(s) I was feeling at that very moment exactly. I couldn’t put a name to it to save my life. But I surely didn’t mean to sound as exasperated as my voice made me out to be. I could see his throat work as he gulped, eyes averting from mine to look down at the floor for a moment before looking up again.

"I died a hundred years ago. A witch attempted to kill me, and she did, before casting a curse and trapping me inside that thing over there." he pointed towards the antique vase behind me, then added, "in my ashes. I've been trapped there for years. Some people did stumble upon me when they opened it over the years. Just like you did. But they never gave me one chance to even speak, and they threw it out immediately."

“But why? What did you do to deserve all of this?”

A gloom overcame his eyes, yet his voice was steady and deep as his lips stretched into a smile that only the word ‘sour’ could do its description justice.

"That's what happens when one falls in love with a witch.” He replied, “anyways, that’s all I know. I've been trying to figure out how to break the curse, but being stuck in a jar serves for nothing.”

Neither of us spoke for a while, him standing amidst the echoes of his past and my voice trying to find its way through the strangled words stuck in my throat.

“I’ll help you.” I spoke, breaking the heavy silence.

“Really?” His face was so full of hope it sent my heart clenching between my ribs.

“Yeah. This is making me anxious as well, I have no other choice.” I answered, brushing it off with a shrug.

“What brings you back here?” said the antiquarian who was busy polishing some old pocket watches, her glaces hanging low on the tip of her nose.

“I- We need some help.” I answered, and her head snapped up to find me and Yoongi staring back at her at the front counter.

“How could an old antiques shop owner possibly be of any help to you youngsters?” She asked again.

“I assure you that I’m not younger than you.” came a comment from Yoongi.

She stared at him, her relaxed expression turning tense, and then she looked at me again. Instead of providing an answer, I put the open vase in front of her. She gave it a quick look and then looked back into my eyes. “You are one stubborn young woman.”

“I’m not here to return it.” I cut her off to explain myself, “I’m here to know how to break the curse and release his soul.”

“I see you let him walk around freely.”

“Why is that a problem?” I asked with furrowed brows.

“Why wouldn’t a wandering dead be a problem to the living?” Her brows rose just as she gestured with her head towards Yoongi, as if stating the most obvious scientific fact, “anyhow, you want to know what to do next, don’t you?”

I hummed.

“All you need to do is throw the ashes into the ocean, let it dissolve and become one with the salt water. Tomorrow, when the sun sets.”

“Why specifically tomorrow?” I asked.

“Full moon. Or else your efforts will go down the drain. Do not let that happen” She emphasized on the last part through gritted teeth.

“How do you know so much?” Yoongi was the one to ask.

“I am nothing but a mere shop owner. Buying old stuff and selling them, that’s what I do.”

“You must be a special kind, then.” He bantered.

She shrugged and replied, “I study my products. We’re talking about items that date back to hundreds of years ago.”

She handed me a small pouch bag and told me to put the ashes in there, saying that it would be easier than carrying an open urn around. She seemed displeased with Yoongi’s presence, which was quite understandable, but it didn’t phase him as he was more interested in the shop around him. Walking around with curious eyes.

“Do not spend too much time out there.” was the last thing she addressed to Yoongi before we walked out of the shop.

“You think there’s more cursed things in that shop?” he asked.

“I do not want to think about it.” He chuckled at my response, then I added, “Full moon is tomorrow night.. Do you want to spend one last day with me?"

"Sorry?"

"I think you deserve one last good day before.. resting."

I watched him give my offer a thought as we walked down the street, then he broke into a wide smile, "You mean it?"

“Of course! You’re new here. We can't do much in less than a day, but we can do things around the town. And then we’ll go to the beach before the sun sets, do what we need to do…”

“That sounds way too good to be true.”

“We'll make it true.” I reassured him with a nod.

The next morning, I found Yoongi sitting with a book I could easily recognize from my own collection resting in his hands. He had told me that since he doesn’t sleep, he spent the night reading from my bookshelf. After a few minutes of me listening as he talked so passionately, impressed by everything he’d read, I decided it was time to commence my mission of granting the man his most merited happy day.

It started with a short trip to a well-known bakery, where I made him try whatever his heart—and stomach—desired of baked goods. I bought him wine to taste, and he said it bore no resemblance to that of ancient times. That's how we found ourselves running a taste test on a bunch of beverage bottles, and he had the same reaction to all of them. I also ended up getting him some soda cans to try, and he liked them.

I rented two bikes. It took some time for him to adjust, whining about being confined inside a jar for a hundred years. But once he got the hang of it, we went wandering around the streets of the city with the breeze kissing our cheeks.

I then brought him to a park, one he later said he really liked. We walked between the trees and let the grass tickle our toes. Sat between colorful flowers, redolent with the scent of an early spring. He made a crown and insisted on taking a picture of me with it. He later revealed that he used to love nature the most when he was still alive, and talked about the days he’d spent in the green despite his father’s constant insistence on marriage and building a family of his very own.

I asked him how old he was when he died, he said twenty-eight. And suddenly, his appearance made sense after that. Too young and too handsome, how could the world still let go of him?

He laughed when I made a comment about that and joked, saying that apparently his past lover didn’t want him to live past twenty-eight. I could feel the heavy pain in that joke slicing at my neck, stinging, and I swallowed it down.

He stopped to pet every dog and cat that crossed our path. I couldn’t help but take a picture or two, though the camera never caught his reflection in its frame.

I made sure to drag him towards the kid’s section of the park, where I taught him how to play in the slides and the swings and spring riders. Two grown-ups playing around in a kids’ playground had its fair amount of questioning stares, but hearing him giggle and seeing his wide grin was more than worth it.

We kept on talking nonstop about the differences between our timelines. We made it to a bridge that looked over a lake, the clouds above reflected on the water surface, glowing with the sun behind them. Yoongi started throwing small pieces of bread for the floating ducks, and I just stood there, observing.

“What other place do you want to go to?”

“The beach.” He answered, not looking up from his task. “My favorite place.”

It was a couple of hours before the sunset when we finally made it to the beach. There was a chill in the air that evening, the sand wasn’t as burning as it probably was when the sun was still up high in the sky, beaming. I let my lungs sip on the fresh scent of the ocean as I took a deep breath in, watching Yoongi approach the water with distant eyes.

He let the foamy edge climb its way to his toes, dipping his ankles and then retreating to the sea. He sat on the sand and I did the same.

We didn’t talk. We just sat there and watched the waves dancing with the wind as the sun sank to meet the horizon.

It wasn’t until shades of blue, orange and red blended, interwoven as they painted the breathtaking scenery before us that he spoke in a hushed voice, as though he’d startle the sun and make it rush to hide under the ocean if he spoke any louder, “Thank you for everything, really. No one has ever been this nice to me, even when I was still alive. This meant the most to me.”

I smiled.

“You know, if I were still alive, or if we had met sometime in my lifetime, I would’ve done everything I could to keep you by my side.” I could see him scratch at the back of his head from the corner of my eye, and I turned to see his giddy smile.

“you shouldn’t say things like this ‘cause I’m going to be thinking about it for the rest of my life.” I said, sheepishly.

His smile grew bigger, “Sounds superb. At least someone will remember me.”

My heart clenched.

“You deserve to be remembered.” I said.

“I really don’t.” I could see tears pricking his eyes as they turned a faint red. I had so much to ask at that moment, but I couldn’t. Words were stuck behind my teeth, and I just turned my head to face the horizon again.

“It’s time.” He noted, standing up and offering his hand to me. I took it in mine and stood on my feet, gripping the pouch between my fingers. We marched deeper into the sea, deep enough that the water reached our knees.

“ready?” I asked one last time, and he nodded, his smile never fading away.

The pouch felt so heavy as I untied its drawstring, carefully emptying its content into the water. Yoongi stood behind me, and I didn’t have the heart to look over my shoulder.

It took everything in me to turn around, and when I did, he was no longer there. Breeze blew in my face, and I swear I could feel warmth touching my skin for a moment, or two.

Whether I’d want to visit that antique shop again or not was something I still can’t put my finger on, but somewhere, somehow, deep down I knew I was thankful for it guided the vase– the urn to my hands.

And I whispered prayers of him resting at peace ever after as I looked up at the glowing moon above and the sparkling stars that swimmed all around it.

Grieving a person I never knew, but had the chance to cross paths with, at last.

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