#*puts them in a vase and stares at them all day*

[hwajin]

☆°. — ғɪғᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs ᴘᴀsᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ | hhj

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x afab!reader

𝐰𝐜: 3.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, cumming inside

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is barely proof read AND inspired by the bathrobe look in paris but also hyunjin in milan 🫶 hope you like it <333

You could feel his gaze on you. On your figure, your body. On your whole. The clear sound of his 2B pencil dancing along the cheap, store-bought paper echoed quietly in contrast to the music playing somewhere in the back, from the radio, or one of your phones, or from outside your hotel room altogether — it didn’t much matter to you, for his gaze on your body, on your figure, on your whole was all that did.

You weren’t sure if he was aware that you were aware — his eyes on you, the pencil scratching against the paper; you knew you were the object for his current spurt of creativity. The object of his inspiration. The object of his works — his very own and personal muse. You knew, and the knowledge, the very thought alone, made you dizzy, made you lose track of the sentence you were reading in the tour guide provided by the hotel.

Milan was beautiful. You were working your way through page after page, taking in museums and cathedrals, art galleries you knew Hyunjin would die to see. One page, his gaze on you, long, intimate, longing. Another page, eyeing the ‘Pinacoteca di Brera’, putting in a bookmark to later show him, and you felt his eyes on you again. Unbudging. Persistent. He either was unsure of your anatomy, or simply enjoyed to stare.

“I can feel you staring, you know.”

You looked up, and your eyes momentarily locked with his own, dark ones. Sparking. Speaking, without words. His hair had dried a good bit ever since he’d stepped out the shower, the white bathrobe snug loosely around his naked body leaving only so much to imagination. You looked at him, smiling, teasing, and he stared back — aware, and smug. His eyes wandered down to his art again — faint strokes of your face adorning the page and you wondered what had moved Hyunjin to capture you in this very moment — it was mundane, the moment, and you didn’t look any bit different – or, better, for that matter – than you did any other day. You were reading a tour guide, lazy, tired, solemn — you wondered where he saw the beauty in that.

“I know. I don’t mind that you can feel it.”

A pang to your heart, and he looked up from his page again, after adding lines here and there which as though magically transformed into plasticity, into your eyes and nose and mouth. You were fascinated by his art. You grew bashful at his words. And you were enamored by his eyes, his face. His whole; the way he looked. Milan was beautiful — but suddenly you forgot all about the tour guide, about the trip here you had bought for his birthday. You forgot all about the sights and museums and art galleries, for he sat across from you, sight enough, creating the only art you ever wished to look at.

You were sure you blushed, your skin acquainting the same colour of the roses blooming on the table in a vase. You could smell them, their scent spreading all around and luring you into depths so captivating you wanted to exist in them for eternity.

Only now you noticed the red paint by your lover’s side, only after thorough inspection of him. He parted his eyes from your own with a grin and continued on his drawing — on your drawing, ultimately, because you knew he’d gift it to you after finishing touches —; his hands reached after the brush laying beside his paper, and with a dip into beforehand-prepared water he activated the red colour, and let it swim across white paper. You couldn't take your eyes off him. You couldn’t take your eyes off the way his hands controlled the paint on his canvas, how the pigment drowned and spread and melted against the grey lines of pencil. Taking everything in, swallowing details, yet enhancing the object of the art, enhancing features of your face. Your cheeks suddenly shone red now on the white paper — and maybe it had been his aim after all, to make you shy, to make you bashful. Reality materialised onto paper, into art. Love did, for every brushstroke, every further pigment of red paint on white canvas meant love, for every further gaze of his, for reference or his own enjoyment you weren’t sure, meant adoration.

It took Hyunjin far longer to finish the painting than he had intended it to. Not because he was struggling with it — drawing you in all shapes and forms was a second nature to him by now —, and not because of exterior reasons altogether. Yet he sat and painted, away and away, adding a line here, colour there, watching you go back to the tour guide; he was sure that it could not possibly take you so long to finish it. That you were spending far too much time on each page, that you were eyeing Hyunjin far too often after every other sentence you read. That it wouldn’t possibly take you so long to inspect sights and places — but that you and him were set on the same mission, seemingly, on the same, interior goal. Finishing the tour guide, completing the painting — meant ending the moment. Ending the tranquility, discarding, ultimately, from admiring the other in the golden light of the slowly setting sun, shadows of trees and buildings casting paintings on your faces. The moment would end, the sun would set, would stop drowning the ebony furniture in your hotel room in golden showers, snow-white bed sheets in warm rays.

You looked up; Hyunjin looked at you, inspecting, one second, another, before he went back to his painting, as concentrated as he had stared at you. You let your eyes wander to somewhere behind him — you looked out the western window, which blind’s didn't do well in saving you from the blinding sun, though you wouldn't have wanted them to, admired the sunset, the city that laid in it, the foreign neighbourhood, the white sky. Maybe Hyunjin caught beauty there — the rich sun on your face. Your sparking eyes, your gleaming expression. Almost sacred, solemn. Meant for only the two of you.

You caught glimpse of the broken clock on the wall behind him, showing fifteen minutes past four — it had been showing fifteen minutes past four for the past two hours now. Or for the past three? How much later was it now, ever since you had settled into the hotel room? The sun had long started to set behind the horizon, though it had stood at its highest spot when you had first entered the single bedroom for two; yet maybe no time had passed at all. Maybe in his presence love was eternal, unending.

You stood up. You had been looking at Hyunjin for far too long; had been only looking at him, inspected his every move, reciprocated his every long, fixed stare, shuddering beneath it simply. You had studied his ever-drying dark hair, his ever-parting bathrobe, his naked collarbones, his paint-laced fingers. The way he stared you down, the way he left you vulnerable and naked with as much as a gaze – and you felt touch starved. His eyes burned on your skin, though it wasn’t sensation enough to satisfy you – you needed more of him. You would always need more of him.

Hyunjin’s eyes followed your figure as you made your way over to him. Without a rush, walking slowly; you bore all the time the world had to offer in your palms, it felt. You walked slowly, yet the scent of the red roses you passed filled Hyunjin’s senses in the breeze your movements created. The floral sensation all around him, your nearing body, your leisure attire, your hazy eyes – he was convinced this moment alone, the sight of you, the golden sun as though casting a halo above your figure, drowning you in warmth and beauty and love, this moment alone was entirely enough to eradicate each and every of his needs, any wish he’s ever wished and any promise he’s ever made; for this moment alone, and your heaven-sent presence was enough to fulfill all. Needs, wishes, promises. If it was you he could look at for eternities, if it was your body he’d have the privilege of holding close for the end of times he would never dare to ask of anything else.

The red paint on Hyunjin’s paper slowly dried out as you finally stood before him. It wasn’t, Hyunjin thought, the roses on the table in a vase which sent their scent across the room, after all – it was you. You smelt of roses. You smelt of vanilla, of red paint, of smoke, of Milan, now that you stood before him, now that he looked up at you, from beneath glasern eyes. You smelt like you, and you smelt like him; traces of his scent and his touch and his promise on your skin, and Hyunjin basked in it.

You didn’t waste much time before you made moves to take a seat on his lap; and not only did Hyunjin realize your attempts momentarily, he also embraced you without as much as hesitation. He found himself drowning in the feeling of your weight on him, allowing you to swallow him whole, allowing you to let your eyes explore. You let them wander from his face to his neck, from his protruding collarbones to his pointy shoulders – the white bathrobe was almost mocking now, doing so little in covering the man that it was nothing but ironic.

And you felt his hands on you, your body. Secure, sure of their position on your hips. Tall fingers, spacey palms; you felt their entirety on your body, and your red heart picked up its’ speed at that.

And you touched him, too. Your hands, cool and soft, found home on his face, each palming a cheek, closing him in. Your thumbs caressed his flush skin, tickled near his eyes, reached towards his parted lips, his hungry lips. Hyunjin looked at you, let you touch him, his face. Let you look at him. Let you make him wait on the kiss he so badly needed, let you bask in him, for he enjoyed nothing more than that.

Your eyes met, and you weren’t sure who granted the first smile, but both your mouths turned upwards, curling into softening features. Roses, red paint, Milan outside the window; though this moment contained of only you and him, and the broken clock, fifteen minutes past four, timelessness. You showed your teeth, your eyes squinting with your smile, and Hyunjin’s were the same.

“Hi.”

A whisper against quiet music and honking cars, angry passengers outside, and Hyunjin reciprocated with a chuckle. Then, a whisper as soft as the prior one, “Hi.”; and he pulled you in. Or maybe he reached for you, longed for you. Or maybe you both moved only enough for your lips to connect, finally, in soft passion. Vigorously, though not in haste, not in roughness. Forcefully, rather, impatiently forceful as you let your tongue dart out of your mouth so it could explore his, and it didn’t take the man as much as a minute to welcome you in, to invite you into himself. And you let your tongue dance with his own, in a waltz, or something faster than that, something less rhythmic – something freer. Your hands stood ground on his body, fingers digging into his shoulder as his dug into your flesh, in covered flesh by your aching hips. Your mouths moved against one another sloppily, and teeth dragging across lips, tongues easing off the sting right after, wet, loud, swallowing any sound which slipped past your throats. Quiet, still timid, breathy sighs which tasted of chocolate and shaky moans which were barely audible against exterior noise. You saw stars behind your eyelids – if because you squeezed them shut so tight it hurt, or because Hyunjin’s touch on your body, the bite he had just placed on your lower lip, and the way he pulled away right after, only for a second, less than that, to admire you with a smile before diving back into you, you weren’t sure, but there were stars all the same. Stars, and Hyunjin, darkening Milan behind the hotel room windows. Fifteen minutes past four. Timelessness.

Hyunjin pulled you closer. Impatience, or simply the need to have you nearer, more flushed against his body than you already were. His hands lay strong on your body, and he pulled you in, your cores coming in contact, hot, ignited, searching for more than this. Than clothed touches, more than the faint feeling of his erection against your sex. More than his hands in your hair, entangling long, warm fingers there, more than his teeth bruising your lips. You’d always want more – and you were glad that Hyunjin was no different. For his hands wandered, and his lips with them, kissing and nibbling where his fingers danced upon – your neck, your shoulders, then, your chest, unbuttoning your shirt one by one, not without a kiss to your skin with every further act of undressing. One button, a kiss, a gaze up to you beneath his lashes, a faint smile, a smug grin at your scrunched brows and staggered breath. Another button, another kiss, and his gaze fell back to your chest, watching your ever-exposing body, so impatient in his seat yet so unrushed. Taking his time. Feeling your bosom rise and fall against his lips, hearing your breath, your sighs, your heartbeat. Feeling hot – your skin was burning, your body was, and Hyunjin with it.

Your shirt was discarded onto the floor. Long forgotten, along with your shorts; Hyunjin’s bathrobe lay leisurely around him, half-opened, only carelessly shoved off his body yet not having borne enough patience to fully free him from it. Though neither of you cared. You let the fabric hang off the chair you were sitting on, the softness of it the only thing touching your skins besides each other's skin. You were closer now, much closer than before, though you barely deemed it possible. You sat right atop Hyunjin’s erection, his right hand resting against your inner thigh – he wasn’t touching yet, only teasing to, and your body grew hotter yet, needier. Your hips searched for friction, your fingers dug into Hyunjin’s scalp with a force which made the man groan out in deep satisfaction, and you kissed him with a fervor enough to move oceans – and he drowned in it, gave into you, kissed you back as feverishly, as messily.

He touched you, too. Finally, eventually, and you muffled a loud moan at the unexpectedness of it. Two fingers against your clit as Hyunjin’s tongue entered your mouth, as he forced your tongue to push against his own – to which you obliged, gladly. You moaned into him as you reciprocated his kiss, grinded your hips into his touch, into his hand. He answered with a sigh, with fingers which increased their speed, with a bite against your lower lip. It ought to hurt by now, your lower lip, with the way he was nibbling at it, though you believed that your body was immune to feel pain in relation to your lover. So, he bit away, nibbled on the sweet spot of your neck, on the lobe of your ear only to moan right into it, to send shivers down the entirety of your body, and you let him. And there was no better feeling, you believed.   

You disconnected your lips from his. There was a second where his mouth searched for yours, where his body hadn’t yet registered the emptiness your parting left, but then he looked at you, leaned back in his chair, eyes glassy, fingers circling around your clit slowly, mindlessly. As though it was a bodily reaction, an instinct. As though he wasn’t actively aware of his movements at all. His breath hitched in his throat, and he looked a mess – pupils blown out, eyes dark as night, hair disheveled, mouth red and puffed and bruising. There were faint love bites blooming on his neck already, ones that would turn a deep red, or a deep purple by the next morning. The sun had almost set behind the horizon, was casting its’ last, weak rays upon the planet – and those last, weak rays of golden light seemed all to land on the man beneath you. He shone, almost golden himself, chest and cheeks flushed red, and he was glowing. Glowing in the way he looked at you, glowing the smile he granted you, genuine, true. He waited on you, waited on a kiss, or on something else, something more, maybe. Yet he let you stare at him, let you admire him in the last, weak rays of sunshine that seemed to have been saved up for him, solely – and then you kissed him, unable to resist wide eyes and longing mouth, and he kissed you back. Touched you, and you let your hands wander down his body, not missing a single line on it, not missing an inch before your hand palmed his crotch. You could sit and kiss him forever, could bask in him and his body for eternity – but you were impatient, too, especially when it came to him, to your lover. When it was him, you lost control of yourself, of your body, of your soul. It belonged to him entirely, all of it.

He let you sink onto him. Hyunjin let you bury your face in the sweatiness of his neck, in its’ sensitivity, let you groan out into his ear as you felt him bottom out entirely. He let you adjust to him, and you let him hold you, against him, against his body, your heart against his own, chest to chest. You let him whisper sweet nothings, promises, and confessions, and entire worlds. You loved his never tiring tongue in moments of intimacy – he talked and talked and talked, words sweeter than honey could ever be, and sounds more sinful than anything you’d ever known.

You screamed out when he moved. Thrusting his hips into your own, up and deeper inside of you, and you struggled to keep your composure. Your arms snug tightly around his body, around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer – you melted into one as he kept moving into you, both hands keeping a steady position on your hips, to hold you in place, or to grant you stability, or to grant himself some. And the room erupted into a symphony of your voices, of your moans and grunts and sighs, whispers and whines of each other’s names. Your senses filled with everything that was him – his voice, deep and longing and loud in your ear, his hand bruising your flesh, groping at you so harshly you saw stars, his scent, his golden body, his mouth on your skin. Everything was him, his erection so very deep within you that it almost hurt, though not quite, his right hand which suddenly found its’ way to your clit again. Drawing figures eight there impatiently as his hips grew frantic, slowly losing rhythm.

Your body ignited. It was hot, it was wet and a mess, and it was fifteen minutes past four. The broken clock on the wall behind Hyunjin capturing you two in its’ timelessness, in its infinity. It had stopped solely for you, for your love, for your souls. Your eyes closed shut when Hyunjin bit against your neck, when his teeth grazed your skin just deep enough to not break it, to not draw blood, and you came against his body in shaking waves, with a broken moan which was swallowed by the man in an instant. You felt him fill you up as he groaned into the kiss, as he let his tongue enter your mouth in lazy manner, careless now of sloppiness, of the lack of coordination. He held you close, he thrusted into you tiredly, he let you hold him. He let you kiss him, just as tired, just as lazy, basking in him, in his taste, in his scent.

Milan was beautiful. Night began to drown the city in darkness, buildings and trees, cars and people and the world losing color, quieting down. But it was still fifteen minutes past four – and you sat in Hyunjin’s hold for an eternity longer, in hushed giggles and shy confessions, and loved each other throughout the entirety of the night.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag IV (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

🎄 ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻🎄

~

“Oh! Well, aren’t those pretty?”

Your mother’s voice pulled your attention away from the flowers in front of you, throwing her a small smile as she neared you to admire them. You gave her the card when she eyed it, and you watched her smile grow, a fond chuckle escaping her.

“That’s sweet,” she praised. “Is Rafe coming by later?”

It seemed like such a silly question because you and Rafe saw each other almost every day, and your mother knew it.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sitting at the island and fingering a red petal. “He’s doing something for Ward, but he’s coming straight over when he’s done.”

She hummed, and you heard her fussing around in the drawers looking for something. Your gaze was glued to a rose, noting that Rafe got you red this time—your favorite—and you swallowed. It was always the same. Rafe would hurt you so bad that he felt compelled to make it up to you, the flowers would be delivered to your doorstep, your parents would gush, and you’d forgive him with a smile…and then the cycle would repeat.

You plucked a petal, rolling and squashing it between your fingers.

“It’s about time he starts getting prepped on all the family business, isn’t it?”

You glanced up as she took out a pan, her gaze briefly meeting yours.

“Yeah, I guess so. Ward has been asking him to do more things lately, and I know it’s usually work related, so…” you shrugged. “Only a matter of time.”

She seemed satisfied with that answer.

“Good,” she firmly said with a nod. “He can’t provide for you on daddy’s money forever.”

She chuckled to herself, but you could only swallow down bile.

“Rafe is upstanding and all of those things we want for you, but he needs to learn to make money on his own. We’ll never give him our blessing otherwise.”

Again, you said nothing, only looking at the stains on your fingers. Your entire volatile future being mapped out for you should’ve scared you beyond reason, and it sometimes it did, but in this moment, you only felt a numbness that was all too familiar. It all just felt so inevitable, so you didn’t see any sense in fighting it. With a sigh, you stood.

“I’m going to take these up to my room.”

“Put them on the table by your window, so they can get good sunlight,” she threw over her shoulder.

After doing what your mother advised, you turned to your mirror, intently staring at the face in the reflection. The fading bruise on your cheek was nowhere to be found under your makeup, and you were relieved that the same could be said for your neck. A deep inhale had your stomach aching only a tad, and you told yourself that Epsom salt baths could only do so much.

You rolled your eyes, lips pursing at the thought of JJ Maybank.

Naturally, you knew that this wasn’t really his fault. If Rafe were a normal boyfriend, you wouldn’t be covering up bruises with makeup and long-sleeved shirts in the house you’d rather not wear. You knew that Rafe didn’t actually need a reason and that no one could push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Rafe was never the kind of guy to do anything he didn’t want to do. However, with all of that being said…

You really didn’t like JJ Maybank.

Some part of you knew that Rafe must have provoked him. You knew your boyfriend well, so you knew that without a doubt, but none of that changed the fact that you still had ugly discoloration from where Rafe had pushed you into his dresser. None of that changed the fact that JJ was the catalyst. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have talked to him anyway, but you’d only been trying to be nice.

Trying to do the right thing.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, and knowing that Rafe never rang it, you didn’t give it much thought. At least until you heard your mother calling your name moments later, and you were forced to descend the stairs in confusion. That confusion wasn’t eased in the slightest when you came face to face with Sarah.

She looked sheepish while your mother only smiled.

“Sarah’s here for you. I offered her something to eat, but she’s insistent that she isn’t staying long,” your mother said, briefly touching the other girl’s arm. “You tell Rose to call me. I have a bone to pick with her.”

They both chuckled—obvious that your mother was teasing—and you watched her disappear into the kitchen before resting your gaze on the blonde before you.

“I’m going to get something to eat at The Wreck. You want to come with me?”

You swallowed a sigh, glancing away and folding your arms over your chest. You didn’t know where this desire for a budding friendship came from, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You and Sarah had only ever been friendly, and considering the company she kept, you’d had no desire for anything more. Being friends with Sarah just felt like a recipe for disaster.

“Sarah…”

She spoke up before you could, huffing and stepping towards you.

“I think Rafe treats you like shit,” she admitted, making sure her voice didn’t carry. “I know you love him and see something in him the rest of us don’t, but everything about you just seems wrapped up in him and…he seems very happy to keep things that way.”

You pressed your lips together, eyeing her.

“I don’t like it, and considering I don’t have much say, I figure the best I can do is be your friend. It’ll just make me feel better to know you have someone other than Rafe.”

Her lips turned up as she said his name, crossing her own arms over her chest.

“I’ve thought this for a while, by the way, and I just…” she shifted her feet, shrugging. “I don’t know. I just can’t take it anymore.”

With a sigh, you dropped your arms, and you knew that Sarah could tell what you were going to say.

“Come on! It’s lunch at The Wreck. We won’t be going all the way to Charlotte—Rafe will know where you are. He’s caught up with our dad, anyway, and they’re probably not going to be done until this evening,” she practically pleaded.

It was tempting, you had to admit, even if it did make you feel a little pathetic.

“I don’t know. I’d have to call Rafe and-.”

“You’d have to call Rafe, are you serious?” she scoffed before reaching for her own phone, and you reached for her. “I’m calling him.”

Your eyes widened.

“Sarah…”

Rafe’s tone could be heard even through the phone when he answered, and you felt your heart race.

“I wanna go to lunch with your girlfriend, and since you’re so uptight about knowing where she is at all times and who she’s with…”

The other girl trailed off as he spoke.

“Rafe, you’re stuck with dad for most of the day! I want to go eat, and I want her to come with me… Yes, just me,” she threw you a look at that to which you only looked away. “God, you’re so crazy, you literally treat her like a damn puppy.”

She shoved the phone at you, and understanding what was happening, you sighed.

“Hey,” you softly said once her phone was to your ear. “She just showed up here, Rafe and…”

“She said it’s going to be the two of you.”

You could tell by his tone that he wasn’t thrilled, right now, but you also knew it wasn’t just from Sarah and her antics. Rafe felt cornered. It wouldn’t look good for him to forbid you from going, and if he convinced you to give Sarah some piss poor excuse, she’d likely just ignore it. There wasn’t much you and Rafe agreed on, but you did admit that Sarah Cameron often got her way.

You heard Rafe mutter under his breath, and you didn’t doubt he was cursing Sarah’s name.

“I don’t see why she’s hellbent on butting into your life all of a sudden…”

His tone didn’t make you enthusiastic, and when your eyes met Sarah’s, they looked hopeful. You didn’t really understand why Sarah was taking so much interest in befriending you. You heard her reasoning, of course, but this was new territory, and you didn’t know how to handle it. However, you decided that it didn’t matter. Your boyfriend’s sister wanted to have lunch with you, and if it would satisfy her then so be it.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you told Rafe something you knew he’d like to hear.

“While I have you, I wanted to thank you for the flowers.”

You heard him exhale, and you didn’t need to be with him to know the look on his face. It was the look he often wore whenever he brought you flowers—a mix of smugness and triumph with that small smirk dancing along his lips. Rafe cared about being seen as the perfect boyfriend, but he also cared about your complicity just as much. If he could placate you after a really bad fight, then he could prevent the rare backlash.

The last time you’d threatened to leave Rafe after one of the worser fights was half a year ago. The bouquet he’d given you then hadn’t meant all that much to you when you threw them on the floor. It hadn’t ended the way you wanted to but instead in tears and Rafe convincing you that you were just upset and needed to cool down. He liked to avoid that if he could.

“I wasn’t expecting red, and I was just really happy to see that. It made me feel a lot better,” you told him.

Rafe was silent for a few moments before sighing, albeit with an annoyed lilt. Your gaze met Sarah’s again just as he spoke.

“Just for a little bit. Not too long because I could finish up early with my dad, so…”

“No, yeah, we won’t be long,” you assured him. “It’s just going to be me and Sarah.”

“Yeah, that’s what she said. Let’s hope it stays that way,” he told you.

His tone was clipped, and although he didn’t say it, you knew that there was a silent addition to that statement.

For your sake.

With a nod and a soft goodbye, you gave Sarah her phone back. Her face was expectant, and when you told her you needed to get your jacket, she beamed.

Sarah had a pout on her face as she played with one of her fries, shaking her head.

“I just don’t get it,” she mumbled. “What do you see in him?”

The drive to The Wreck was far from long and had mostly been filled with awkward small talk. You couldn’t recall a time you’d ever been alone with Sarah for this long, let alone long enough to have several conversations. It was such an odd thought considering you’d been dating Rafe for two years. The more the minutes went by though, the easier the conversation seemed to flow.

However, you now found yourself in the middle of lunch and on a topic you felt was inevitable, to be honest.

Sarah’s gaze was questioning, and you struggled to come up with an acceptable answer. You couldn’t very well tell her that her brother was actually an abusive rapist who terrified you beyond belief. You couldn’t tell her that he’d threatened to kill you on several occasions. It wasn’t possible to tell her that, in truth, you saw nothing worthwhile in Rafe, and you’d merely accepted your future with him.

Instead, you managed to think back to the very beginning of your relationship when you actually loved him.

“He knows what he wants, and I like that…”

It was a trait you’d admired in him once, feeling flattered by how boldly he’d asked you out. Those were the days when you looked forward to seeing Rafe and whatever gift he had for you and whatever date he had planned. That was a time when you’d literally fall asleep on the phone with him, and these days you would be relieved if you could go several hours without even hearing his voice.

“He’s also very generous, and he looks out for me, and he loves being around me. He’s just…so happy when we’re together.”

Everything that came out of your mouth was no longer applicable to your boyfriend, but at one point in time it had been. Without realizing it, your face fell, and you picked at your food. Sarah had a thoughtful look on her face as she mulled over your words before taking a sip of her lemonade.

“Looks out for you,” she repeated. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

You threw her a look, and she merely shrugged, throwing her hands up.

“I’m just saying! He treats you like he doesn’t want anybody to come near you,” she said, disgusted. “His own sister wants to hang out with you, and you needed to call him for that? That doesn’t sound crazy to you?”

The frown on her face was deep, and you only shrugged.

“You know what he’s like Sarah. You know how…paranoid he can get.”

“Yeah, paranoid that you might actually prefer being in someone else’s company instead,” she scoffed.

You merely sent her a small smile, thinking that she had no idea of the half of it. Before the conversation could continue, two familiar faces walked into the restaurant, and you felt your heart sink. Sarah seemed excited to see her friends, of course, while you, on the other hand, only had an aching desire to leave.

When your eyes met a slowly increasingly familiar blue pair, you couldn’t stop your frown.

You glanced away, and when Pope greeted you, you only sent him a smile in return. Telling yourself that you had the worst luck, you leaned over to reach for your purse. Sarah was talking to the two of them, but when she heard the sound of your keys, the conversation paused.

“I think I should go,” you answered the silent question on her face.

You hated the way it fell.

“We haven’t even been here an hour. Do…?” she trailed off glancing at Pope and JJ. “I know that it’s supposed to be just the two of us, but Rafe won’t know.”

“Sarah,” your tone said it all, and she stood up with you when you went to pay for your food.

“Stay,” she practically begged. “Rafe isn’t here to be his normal asshole self, and you know I won’t tell.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” you mumbled, craning your neck for either Mr. or Mrs. Carrera.

By the sound of her sigh, you had a feeling she’d witnessed JJ’s conversation with Rafe that day in their house.

“JJ didn’t mean much by that. He was just stooping to Rafe’s level, wanted to piss him off.”

“Well, you can tell him it worked,” you said, throwing her a tight smile.

Her brows drew together, and she ran her eyes over you, concerned.

“What, was Rafe mad at you for that?”

“What do you think, Sarah?” you slowly wondered, fully facing her.

You could see on her face that she hadn’t considered that possibility, and her shoulders sagged.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m sure JJ wouldn’t have said anything if he’d known it was going to come back on you. I’ll talk to him, just please stay.”

You touched your forehead, glancing over her shoulder and quickly looking away when your eyes met the man in question’s.

“They’re your friends, not mine. I really should go…”

She perked up.

“Well, they don’t have to just be my friends-.”

“No, Sarah. I can’t be friends with them-.”

“Why, because of Rafe?” she incredulously wondered. “Do you hear how crazy that sounds?”

You ignored her when the familiar woman came from the back, quickly paying for your meals. When you were done, you only gave Sarah an even look, grabbing your purse.

“You know what your brother is like. Pope can take you home, right?”

You could see on her face that she wanted to argue this some more, a deep frown on her face, but you witnessed the decision to save it for another time. You weren’t stupid enough to think she was going to let this go. She eyed you.

“We’re probably going to John B.’s later, so yeah. I can leave with them.”

Preferring to ignore her mood, you smiled and thanked her for the invite. You said goodbye to Pope and JJ on your way out, thinking of just how shitty your luck was. You’d never put it past Rafe to drop in on you, and you didn’t want to imagine how things would be if he witnessed you having lunch with anyone other than Sarah…but especially Pope and JJ. You were just at your car when you heard hurried footsteps behind you, and you tensed at the sound of your name.

Unfortunately, the face matched the voice when you turned around.

JJ wasn’t close to you, but he was close enough to where you leaned against your car in an effort to put space between you. If he noticed, he said nothing, and you watched him run his hand through his blond locks. You didn’t know what he wanted and considering the last result of a conversation with him, you warily eyed him.

“Look, Sarah told me that Rafe was mad at you about what I said,” he sounded apologetic. “I didn’t know that.”

“Why? You knew it would piss him off. That’s why you said it.”

He frowned, glancing away.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think…”

“At the very best you knew it would cause conflict between us. Again…that’s why you said it,” you told him.

JJ stared at you, and you watched him blink, tilting his head.

“Do you ever wonder why you have a boyfriend who loses his shit anytime you even so much as look at another man?”

You scoffed.

“Don’t try to turn this around-!”

“I mean, it’s the truth. You felt bad, you apologized, and call me crazy, but I don’t think that’s something he should get mad at you for,” he casually said with a shrug.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t get paid to think.”

You watched his brows raise in shock at your words, a budding smile on his lips. JJ crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you from head to toe, and you felt something twist in your gut at his perusal.

“Are you always this feisty or is that privilege just reserved for me?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to open your door when he spoke again.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I mean that…”

You hesitated, your gaze focused on your window. You stared at his reflection in it.

“I won’t say anything next time. Ever again, actually.”

With a resigned sigh, you accepted his apology, opening your door.

“There won’t be a next time,” you told him, glancing at him as you slid inside. “We’re not friends, JJ, and we’ll never be. Stop talking to me, I mean it.”

Your words held conviction, but you felt like JJ didn’t take them seriously. He only eyed you, slowly nodding as you closed your door. Resisting the urge to glance at him again, you drove off, only feeling relief the closer you got to your house.

It was the middle of the night when you found yourself in the Camerons’ kitchen, getting something to drink because sleep was evading you. You knew that you couldn’t be gone for long, no telling when Rafe would notice the lack of body heat next to him. The rest of the house was asleep, and Sarah was with John B.

…and so that was why you were startled by the front door opening.

You could tell they were trying to be quiet, but hushed tones and the shuffle of feet was loud to anyone who was awake—you. Blinking, and filled with a mix of curiosity and concern, you made your way to the kitchen entrance. It was dark, but not dark enough to make the three figures hard to make out. When you turned on the light, Sarah actually jumped in shock.

You could tell that she hadn’t expected anyone to be up, but even as she approached you, it wasn’t her nor John B. you were focused on. The blond with them looked almost unrecognizable to you, and you sharply inhaled at the sight of him. He was barely able to stand—no matter how much he tried to—and you could only pull your eyes away when Sarah whispered your name.

“I’m just here to use our first aid kit,” she told you, trying to explain. “John B. doesn’t have shit at his house, and Kie’s parents are so anal about JJ—any of her friends besides me, really.”

Once you gathered your thoughts, you blinked at her, shaking your head.

“It’s your house, Sarah. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you assured her.

“I know, but I’d just really rather not wake anyone up…and it’s also not something I feel like explaining to anyone.”

She glanced over her shoulder, giving John B. a nod, and you watched him pull JJ towards the downstairs guest bathroom. Your lips parted, and you looked at Sarah again.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Sarah pressed her lips together, and when she rolled her eyes, you could see the irritation and anger on her features.

“He always is,” she snidely replied.

At your concerned and questioning look, her face fell some.

“It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before,” she finally admitted. “His dad…”

Sarah trailed off with a shrug, and you swallowed.

“Oh,” was all you said, your heart sinking. “I’d heard things, but…I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“I just don’t get why he doesn’t go live with John B. or something,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just because Luke is family…”

She sneered the man’s name, and you felt your frown deepen.

“It’s probably not that simple.”

At the look she gave you, you hurried to continue.

“I just mean it’s probably not that black and white for JJ. No one likes staying anywhere that’s bad for them, but maybe there’s a sense of loyalty he can’t shake yet,” you explained. “If he left his house for good, he just might end up feeling guilty.”

Sarah thought that over, eyeing you in the process.

“Maybe. That doesn’t make it any easier to witness this time and time again,” she sighed.

You didn’t say anything to that, unsure of what to say. When she left to join John B. in assisting their friend, you weren’t keen on retreating to Rafe’s bedroom just yet. You weren’t some professional psychologist, but you didn’t need to be to know why the sight of JJ and the confirmation of his volatile home life affected you so much.

The sight of his bloody and bruised face was unfortunately reminiscent for you.

Your feet made the decision for you, grabbing another glass of water before rummaging in your purse for some painkillers. Sarah was in the hall when you walked around the corner, and she straightened at the sight of you. The bathroom door was cracked, but John B.’s voice carried as he talked to JJ.

“Here, give him these.”

She took the pills and water with a small smile, thanking you. The moment was interrupted by JJ’s tone.

“I can stand just fine,” he sighed. “Just give me a minute…”

John B.’s protest was clear, but you surmised that JJ waved him off, getting his way when the door swung open. The brunette was briefly thrown by the sight of you before acknowledging you, making his way outside. The sound of your name in the air got JJ’s attention, and you wondered just how out of it he’d been to only just now realize you were up.

“Here. Y/N brought these for you,” Sarah told him, voice stern as she demanded he take them.

Getting the hint that he wanted a moment to himself, Sarah took a step back.

“Make sure he takes those,” she told you before going to join her boyfriend.

Truthfully, Rafe was the last thing on your mind as you looked at JJ. Now that his face was clean, he didn’t look as bad, but the bruising and cut on his lip still made you frown. You and he were so far from friends, so standing in the hallway while he leaned one hand on the sink started to feel awkward. You were just about to remind him of the pills and leave when he spoke.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

The observation wasn’t the most astute, and you frowned in confusion. When he swung his head to face you, straightening with difficulty, you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes ran along your face.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he repeated. “…and your face is caked in makeup. Is that one of Rafe’s conditions? Remain perfect at all times?”

You pressed your lips together as he popped the painkillers, swallowing them down with the entire glass of water. You couldn’t very well tell him that you’d spent fifteen minutes covering the bruises on your cheek and neck before coming down on the off chance that you ran into a Cameron that wasn’t Rafe.

“I forgot to wash my face,” was your simple answer.

Your tone was light, unconvincing, and you could tell that JJ didn’t believe you. You didn’t know how, but something about the glint in his eye told you so.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said. “About your dad.”

The blond moved to lean against the doorjamb, staring at you.

“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be,” you argued.

“Yeah, well, we’re both used to a lot of things we shouldn’t be,” he said, making you bristle. “I should’ve known better. After all…I know what he’s like.”

You didn’t appreciate having your own words thrown back in your face, doubly so because JJ didn’t realize just how much it messed with you. It was funny. When you told him that about Rafe, it made sense to you. That was how you maneuvered around Rafe and so you just wanted JJ to learn to maneuver around him the same way if he wanted to avoid his temper.

Now, however, hearing him repeat that about his own father just made you feel…nauseated.

“That’s not an excuse-.”

“Isn’t it?” JJ wondered, moving closer.

He held your gaze, and the look in his eyes had you biting the inside of your cheek. You couldn’t stop your frown, nostrils flaring at the words he silently threw at you. He didn’t say them, but he didn’t need to.

“That’s different,” you argued.

JJ frowned, head tilted in confusion.

“How so? My dad’s an asshole, Rafe’s an asshole,” he drawled. “Now, Rafe may not be a physically abusive asshole, but walking on tippy toes around him just to navigate his shitty personality isn’t exactly healthy.”

You stumbled back when JJ took another step towards you, lips parting when he cut you off.

“You can’t even have lunch with his sister without the fear of some guy that isn’t Rafe crashing the date…because you know he would just fly off the handle.”

You swallowed down your anger and annoyance at how right he was, glancing away with a huff.

“You don’t know anything about my relationship.”

“I know enough,” he fired back with a smirk.

When your back grazed the wall, it was then that you realized just how close he was. The bruising on his face looked so much scarier this close, and your eyes traced the blood on his lip. Your heartbeat was uneven at his close proximity, and you pressed yourself further into the wall. JJ’s eyes flitted between your own, and when you swallowed, they zeroed in on the action, gaze lingering on your throat.

“I know that if I kissed you, right now…” you sharply inhaled at that. “You wouldn’t tell Rafe…and not because you don’t want to hurt him…”

You slapped his hand way when it reached for your chin.

“…but because you’re fucking terrified of him.”

You furiously blinked, struggling to respond to that.

“You’re an asshole,” was all you could muster up with a frown, voice trembling.

JJ only softly chuckled to himself, nodding.

“Assholes are your type, so that doesn’t sting the same coming from you.”

Pushing your way out from in between him and the wall, you stomped away. You refused to look at him when he thanked you for the drugs, fighting to ignore the goosebumps along your arms underneath Rafe’s shirt.

[thepromptswhisperer]

Flower Prompts

“Did you pick them out yourself?”

Stumble upon a dried flower in their partner’s book/private stuff. (One, that looks vaguely familiar. Is that the one they gave them for their first date?)

Wonder if bringing flowers to the date is too much. 

“I’ve never received any before.”

“What did you do?” “What?” “You only ever give me flowers when you have something to confess. So, shoot. I'm listening.”

Know the other is well versed in the language of flowers, and spend hours trying to pick out the right one for them. 

Put a flower in the other’s hair. 

“What’s not to like about flowers?”

Gift the other flowers they are allergic to.

Only realize this is a date and not just a normal hangout when the other gives them flowers. 

“You spoil me.”

“You need to buy a vase.” “Why? This does perfectly fine.” “For now, sure. But what if I wanted to give you flowers every single day from now on?”

“Let me get this straight: You broke into [name]’s garden to pick some of their award-winning flowers for me? How are you still alive?”

Only realize how meaningful the flowers gifted to them are when the other explains why they picked those specific ones.

“They love me, they love me not,...”

See a vase of flowers at the other’s place and wonder if someone else gave them to them. 

“Flowers make me sad.”

Stare at a vase of flowers, gifted to them by the other just hours/etc. before their argument/breakup. 

Receive a flower bracelet/crown made by the other. 

“Do you give all your dates flowers?”

Place a flower on a casket.

“Did I forget our anniversary (again)?”

Receive gifts from an anonymous admirer. First a vase, then a new flower every day. 

Walk into a room that has flower petals strewn all over the floor.

“They smell almost as good as you do.”

“Don’t read too much into it. It’s just a flower. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Date someone who, contrary to them, does not have even a single plant in their apartment/etc.

They imagined lying in a flower field with their partner/etc. to be more romantic than it truly is.

“For something half dead, flowers sure are expensive.”

Think the other wanted to express something specific to them with their flower choice. Turns out, they simply thought they looked nice. 

“What’s your favorite flower?” “Huh? Why?” “One of these days, somebody might want to surprise you with some.” / ”No reason,” only for them to receive some a few days later.

[strawberryspence]

Eddie’s never been in a serious relationship. He’s used to kissing in the dark alleys of a bar, murmured lies underneath bleachers. He was never the one to be shown off, to be proud off and celebrated. No matter how much he yearned for it, he was never meant to be that person. 

Not until he meets Steve Harrington. And god, to be loved by him really makes Eddie rethink all of his preconceived opinions. Maybe Eddie is serious relationship material. 

But Steve… Steve’s a hopeless romantic. He gets him a set of D&D dices just because he thought Eddie would love them. Opens the door for him, opens the car for him. Tries to learn his hobbies, learns to like it. The first time they slept together, Eddie woke up with breakfast in bed. Which was fucking ridiculous because Steve should be the one waking up with breakfast in bed. He buys Eddie flowers for every date, even though Eddie teases him for it. 

And Eddie— Eddie’s a newbie in this. He’s been trying his best to catch up in the romance department. He resolves to do something when Steve got him some tulips for a date once and Eddie brought it up. 

“I love it, Stevie. It’s so nice to get flowers, hmmm?” Eddie smiles, a little bit dazed with affection as he smells the flower. 

Eddie would like to think he knows Steve’s expressions pretty well. So when he sees that beautiful smile drop from his boyfriend’s face, it all clicks for Eddie.

Steve Harrington has never gotten flowers. 

Eddie starts with those flowers in Melvald’s. Joyce has very nicely informed him that they are called Gerberas. Eddie got Steve a bunch of different colors. It’s not that big, just a small bundle. He didn’t want to over do it, just wanted to test the waters. Find out how his boyfriend feels about getting flowers.

It’s embarrassing walking with a bunch of flowers, with his whole metal thing but all of that vanishes when Eddie picks Steve up for a date and he sees the flowers in Eddie’s hands. 

“What’s that for?” Steve looks at the flowers warily. 

Eddie smiles, trying to hide the nerves he’s been feeling since he got the flowers, “For you, sunshine. They reminded me of you so I got them.” 

Like everything else he’s offered Steve— his friendship, his life, his heart— Eddie holds out his hand with just enough courage.

Steve takes the flowers with reluctance, staring at it with fondness and some other emotion Eddie can’t pinpoint. 

They sit in silence for a minute, as Steve just stares and as Eddie just stands with his nerves. Eddie opens his mouth to take it back, and to just swallow the embarrassment. Maybe flowers just ain’t for everyone. 

But then, Steve starts tearing up, sniffling a little, as he blinks at Eddie, “I love it, baby. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” 

Eddie stares in shock as his boyfriend runs back into the house to put it in a vase. Steve’s eyes are still red around the rims when he finally comes out, his nose scrunched up from the sniffling. 

Eddie doesn’t bring it up, he knows Steve won’t want to talk about it. But if they’re a little clingy with each other in the coming days, who’s gonna be mad? 

Since then, Eddie’s made it his life mission to get Steve flowers on the randomest days. He’ll get Steve some sunflowers on bad days, maybe pick him some daisies from the field for when Steve picks the kids up from Hellfire.

Till to this day, Steve gets a little teary eyed when Eddie gets him a random flower. It melts Eddie’s heart into a goo, that this simple action makes his boyfriend tear up with joy. He thinks, in a few more weeks, he’ll garner enough courage to buy flowers and just tell Steve that he loves him. 

It goes on for a few weeks before it comes to a halting stop one random summer day. Steve’s car had to go into the shop for maintenance, so Eddie picked him up and dropped him off to work. When he’s about to pick him up, Eddie goes and picks up some carnations Joyce had reserved for him.  

“Hello, to my favorite lesbian.” Eddie greets when he enters the Family Video store, only seeing Robin at the counter. He closes the doors behind him, flipping the sign from open to close.

“Hello to you too, my favorite gay.” Robin lights up, throwing away the magazine she’s reading. 

“I am here to pick you and the majesty.” Eddie dramatically bows, the flowers still in his hand.

Robin laughs, making grabby hands at him, “You could’ve just picked us up. No need for flowers, you know?” 

Eddie laughs. Whoops, maybe he should’ve gotten something for Robin too. “I am sorry, Robin. This ones for my Stevie. I’ll get you something next time.” 

Robin stares at him, blinking in surprise, “Those flowers are for Steve?” 

Eddie nods enthusiastically. 

“Steve? Our Steve?” 

Eddie squints at her, “Do we have any other Steve?” 

“Our Steve… who is… very much allergic to flowers?”

Eddie blinks at her with owlish eyes. 

“No, he’s not!” He exclaims. 

Robin looks at him, and back to the flowers, then back to him again. She gets this look on her face, like she holds the key to the universe. If Eddie squints really hard, he can see the bulb lighting on her head. 

But then she bursts out of laughter. Bend to your knees, hitting the floor, aching ribs kind of laughter. 

Okay, Eddie’s kinda offended now. 

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks, unable to hide his frown. 

“What’s happening?” Steve comes out from the backroom, confused with Robin’s laughter. “Oh, hey Eds!” 

Robin turns to him, pointing and red on the face with laughter,  “Oh my god. Steve— you’re freaking whipped!” 

“What?” Steve turns to her with confusion. 

Eddie and Steve just stare at her as she takes her time to calm down. 

“I thought…” Robin takes a breath, “I thought you were having a very extreme allergic reaction to spring. I was this close to booking you an appointment with the doctor! You didn’t tell me you were getting flowers from Eddie.” 

Eddie turns to his boyfriend, “Stevie? Are you allergic to flowers?” 

“No!” Steve exclaims. He grabs the flowers out of Eddie’s hands, “See! I am fine!” 

“Steve.” Robin warns.

“I am fine! I love getting flowers from you, Eds. It’s— it’s the best.” 

They stare at each other. Steve squints, his nose scrunching up when he gets a whiff of the flowers. 

“Achoo!” 

“You are allergic!” Eddie exclaims, points an accusing finger at him. 

“I am sorry!” Steve says, his eyes watering again. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?! What kind of boyfriend am I?” Eddie pulls on his hair in frustration, bringing it into his mouth, “Jesus! I was giving you so many flowers! You must’ve felt awful! How could I have not seen that?!” 

“Eddie—“ Steve moves closer. 

“I thought you were crying with joy when I gave you flowers. It was allergies! Why didn't you tell me?!”

“Oh my god!” Robin shouts, making both of them freeze. She turns to Steve, “Steve! Why didn't you tell your boyfriend you were allergic? That’s dumb and made you sick!” 

She then turns to Eddie, “And Eddie! Steve's extremely, insanely, in love with you to the point that he’ll accept the flowers from you! It’s nothing against you! He wants the flowers, his body doesn’t!” 

Huh? 

“What did you say?” Eddie croaks out, breathless with disbelief. 

“Robin.” Steve gasps. 

Robin rolls her eyes, “I said Steve is extremely—“ She stops, her eyes widening in realization, “Uh-oh. Uhm.” 

She perks up, cupping her ears, “What’s that? Did you guys hear that? I think there’s a raccoon in the backroom. Let me check. You guys stay here.” Robin basically zooms out of the room.  Eddie has never seen her move that fast, and they fought an evil wizard together.

Eddie turns to Steve when they’re finally alone. 

“Give me that.” Eddie says, pulling the flowers away from Steve.

“That’s mine.” Steve pouts. 

“Sunshine, you’re allergic.” Eddie keeps the flowers away from him, tucking it on the table. They stand awkwardly around each other, not knowing what to say. 

“Did you hear—“

“What was Robin—“

Eddie smiles at him, softening when he sees Steve chew on his lips nervously, “You first, Stevie.”

Steve nods, gulping as his eyes finally meet Eddie’s, “I am sorry for not telling you. I really loved the flowers and I honestly thought the medication would be enough. Maybe next time, you can tell me beforehand so I can take some and actually enjoy being around them.” 

“I am never getting you flowers anymore if it gets you all sniffly.” Eddie chuckles at Steve’s headstrong perspective, “So— Uh— About what Robin said…” 

Steve straightens up, stammering to spit the words out, “You don’t have to say anything! I am not forcing you to say anything, Edd. We could forget it even happened. Who even is Robin?” 

Eddie moves closer, pushing Steve in between the aisles of the store where no one from outside can see them. 

“I just want to know if it’s true, Stevie.” Eddie whispers, his own voice quivering with anxiety and anticipation. 

Steve stares at him, sensing his boyfriend’s own worry. The nerves in his face melted into an affectionate smile. 

“Eds, baby. I kept all the flowers you gave me till they died even though it gave me the worst allergies. Of course, I am," He scoffs, "As Robin has said, extremely, insanely, in love with you.” 

Eddie breaks into a smile, “Well, I am also extremely, maybe even more insanely, in love with you. The flowers weren’t exactly fitting my metal image, but I was still out there picking out flowers in the field.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “Oh, you’re annoying.” 

There’s no more words said after that. Well, because they started making out right there, all the newly found love and emotions all in the open. That in itself is enough for now.

After the night Eddie found out that Steve’s allergic, Eddie calls El up. The next day, El teaches Eddie how to make origami flowers.

Eddie never buys flowers for Steve ever again. 

He makes it for him instead.

(No one tell Steve, but in a few years, Eddie will ask him to unfold the paper flowers. Only to find a question wedged between its stems and folds. Steve says yes to the question, with real tears of joy.

On their wedding day, Steve will walk down another aisle, a bouquet of handmade flowers made from Eddie's hospital discharge papers and NDAs in his hand.)

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 | 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫

word count: 1.5k

summary: You knew you loved him from the moment he said your name.

warnings: none really, just fluff! does kissing need a warning??

note: this is inspired by your bones by chelsea cutler and some of the dialogue in the end was heavily inspired by the lyrics.

It started out as an ordinary October day. You woke up and had a relatively easy day at work. You went home to get ready for dinner with some friends, carpooling with some of the others to save everyone a little bit of time and money. Dinner flew by with only minimal playful arguments, and those of who were there made the decision to meet up with another group at a bar in the city. You thought it was going to be the usual group of people you typically saw, but then you saw him.

When you walked to the back booth that often occupied the same group of people, you saw a few unfamiliar faces swimming in the sea of ones you recognized. You went around and greeted those who you knew, and introduced yourself to those who didn’t. Names were being thrown at you so quickly you could barely keep up, but when he spoke, you forgot all about them anyways. 

Gentle brown eyes were staring into your own, a small smile that left dimples indenting his cheeks on his face as he kept his gaze on you. He was the only one who made a point to stand and greet you, sticking his hand out for your own as he kept his other nervously shoved into his pocket. You took his hand as you forced your name out, your cheeks and neck flushing as embarrassment flooded your body at how strained it sounded. 

You could hear the playful giggles of your friends from beside you, but you let them fade into the background as he repeated your name back to you. The way the letters fell from his tongue left a permanent impression in your mind, and you knew you were screwed from then on. The moment his hand dropped yours, his voice still ringing in your ear, you knew your life had changed, but you had no idea just how it would change you.

That night, you left the bar with Nico’s phone number and plans to see each other that following Monday for dinner. You hadn’t been so nervous to go out with someone before, and you had recruited two of your closest friends to help you get ready and to ease some of the anxiety that had been bubbling in your chest since that Friday night. They helped you pick out the perfect outfit, helped calm you down when you wanted to spiral, and reminded you to have fun and enjoy yourself before they left.

When Nico arrived, you had the biggest smile on your face when he presented the beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d gotten for you, with the advice of your mutual friend who had told him what your favorite was. You had bashfully thanked Nico, asking him it was okay if you put them in a vase before you left. He caught you off guard by saying of course it was, but only if you let him do it for you. You watched as he assembled them for you with a racing heart, and you knew. You knew he was everything you had been waiting for.

“Ready,” Nico softly asked after placing the vase in the center of your dining room table, smile wide and eyes bright.

“You have no idea,” You grinned.

One date turned into multiple, and before you knew it, the two of you were officially together. He did everything for you, and you for him, and you were the happiest you’d ever been before. You had never felt so content, so excited for the future with someone than you when you were with Nico. He made the uncertainty of life seem exciting and worth experiencing, and you gave him a sense of purpose outside of hockey. You gave Nico something to look forward to every time he stepped off the ice, and he’d been waiting for that feeling for so long.

Your friends often told you that you were now unrecognizable, but it wasn’t because you had changed anything about your appearance. It was because you were so undeniably happy and it wasn’t often that they saw you without a smile on your face. They had never seen you so carefree and excited about life before, and no one wanted you to ever go back. They had always told you that you deserved a love that consumes you in all the best ways, and you had found that with Nico.

Your first Summer with Nico, he had invited you to Switzerland to see his home and to meet his family. You accepted the offer with no hesitation, and that’s how you found yourself currently curled up in his lap as the sun beat down on your skin and laughter echoed around you. His arm was wrapped around your waist, fingers rubbing against the damp skin as he talked with his siblings.

Your head was tucked into the crook of his neck, your hand resting comfortably on the toned muscles of his stomach as you subtly gazed up at him. The sun hit his eyes just perfectly, making them shine brighter and showcase the mixture of dark colors in the most breathtaking way. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him, the same warm feeling you always got when you even thought of him spreading from your chest. Though, you weren’t sure it had left since his deep, accented voice had said your name in the bar many months ago.

“You gonna stare at me all day,” He teases, his hand flexing on the skin of your hip as he looks down at you.

“Yeah, if you’ll let me,” You hummed, playfully poking your tongue out at him.

“I’d let you do anything, you know that,” He rolls his eyes, before settling back on your face, “Are you having fun?”

Both of you pause for a fleeting moment, keeping your eyes trained on the other. Your mind briefly drifts to thoughts of the last several months you’d spent with him. You truly had never felt the way you felt for him before, and the fact that Nico felt the same way for you baffled you every day you spent with him. If you asked him, though, he’d tell anyone who would listen how insanely lucky he was to experience the love you had to give.  

“I am,” You nod, a delicate smile on your sunburnt face, “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Wherever I am, you are always welcome. No matter what, meine schatzi,” He quietly says as he places a small kiss to your temple, ignoring the way his brother and sister are watching him with bright smiles. He squeezes the flesh of your hip before he continues, “C’mon. I want to show you something.”

“What,” You ask, pushing yourself away from him as you furrow your brows.

“You’ll see.”

You carefully step off of his lap, meeting Nina’s gaze as she smiles, which you return with one of your own. Nico stands, nodding to your sandals as he helps you into the light dress you wore as a coverup. He slips his shirt on over his head, stepping into his shoes before taking your hand in his own and tugging you down the dock, away from his siblings. You let him guide you away from the crowd of people and to a more secluded corner of the beach until it was just the two of you. 

“Why are we hiding from everyone,” You raise your eyebrows, turning your head to look at him.

He tugs you into his chest, dropping your hand so he can pull you in closer as he says, “Just wanted to kiss you in private.”

You loop your arms around his neck as you shake your head in amusement, your melodic laughter being smothered by his mouth as he presses it to your own. You melt into him, your soft lips molding against his as his fingers press into the material of your dress. His chest is pressed against your own as he moves his mouth with yours in the type of kiss that leaves your mind hazy and warmth flood from your chest through every inch of your body.

Nico pulls away from you, his forehead pressed against your own as the two of you breath in sync. Your eyes stay closed as you let yourself remain in the moment, thinking of nothing but the feeling of him against you and the ghost of his lips on yours. 

“I love you,” You mumble, eyes fluttering open to meet his, “I love you so much. Wherever you are is where I wanna be.”

“I love you,” He stressed, his eyes dancing across your face,  “I love you all the way down to your bones. You make every hard day worth it and every good day the best day of my life. I know we still have some time to get there, but I can’t wait til you're mine forever.”

“I’m always yours forever, no matter what.”

[kat-luv-pt2]

No more flowers

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

plot: sometimes there can be too many flowers

notes: this is my first time writing something like this and i lowkey hate it 😭

Your smile dropped as you opened the door and were met with Lando's face covered by a bouquet. Now it's not that you disliked flowers, you LOVED them but when Lando decided that that meant you needed to be gifted flowers everyday, sometimes even multiple times a day, you got tired of them, but you just didn't have the heart to tell him to stop. So you took the bouquet from his outstretched hand and received a kiss from him. "Wow they're so beautiful" You admired the bouquet with a fake smile plastered on your face before taking it through the apartment past other bouquets in makeshift vases, you had ran out of vases earlier in the week and resorted to making vases out of jars and cups, and setting it down on a windowsill. "You're not gonna put it in water?" Lando's lips mumbled against your neck as he hugged you tightly from behind, admiring the view from your apartment window. "I will when I get home later" You replied turning around to give him a kiss.

You walked through the store, your hand tightly in Lando's, admiring all the different items around you before your hand was suddenly yanked back as Lando suddenly stopped. "Look at this bug, its flowers made out of lego! You like Lego and you like flowers, it's literally perfect for you!" Lando picked up the set examining it, and indeed you had been admiring this set a few months ago, but looking at it now, you couldn't stand even the concept of flowers, even Lego ones. "No baby it's fine, you already spoil me so much-" You were met with a firm "Shh" as Lando interrupted you. "I don't spoil you ENOUGH bug, plus it's Valentine's day soon" Your pout was wiped off with a kiss from him and that's how you stood at the till with him paying for the set of flowers which were being packed in the signature yellow Lego bag, he took the bag from the cashier and carried it for you. "Could you believe this, lego flowers? Did you know they had Lego flowers bug?" "Well yeah" He gasped in fake offense. "And you didn't tell me?" You just shrugged as suddenly your foot got caught on one of the tiles slightly sticking out of the street and you went flying into the ground. Lando stared in shock as he resisted a laugh "Are you okay?"Lando helped you up, normally you would just laugh it off but today clearly wasn't the day. "It's not funny!" "I'm not saying it is"He held up his hands defensively as you dusted yourself off. "I can see it on your face" You crossed your arms defensively as you walked down the street. You and Lando walked into the grocery store as you needed to buy some bread. You got your bread but when you turned around, Lando wasn't there, walking around the store you found Lando in the flower section. "Look at these bug" Lando held a bouquet of carnations. Your hand went to cover your mouth as you rubbed it nervously across your face. "Something wrong bug?" Lando asked concerned by your expression, "you don't like-" he read the label on the bouquet "you don't like carnations" "No Lando, it's just- no more flowers please I beg you, I love flowers but this is just too much, even for me, I've got no space in my apartment, they're haunting me at this rate Lando" You bought the bread and left the store together. "Why didn't you just tell me that it was too much?" Lando questioned as he held your hand. "Don't know, you were just always so happy to buy me flowers" "Okay, got it, no more flowers bug, does that mean I have to go refund these?" Lando looked at the Lego flower set in its' bag. "No, we can keep those but those are the last ones, no more flowers" You took the bag from him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "No more flowers."

[strawbrryval]

Attention

“Where the fuck were you?” You stood up, arms crossed around your chest as you stared in disbelief at your husband.

He’s been working ‘overtime’ for the past 2 months and at first, you understood but now it was starting to get to you.

The first few nights he returned not that late, maybe around 9-10 pm. But then he started coming back later and later, and not paying you any attention at all.

Now it was 2 AM almost 3 and you were standing in the living room in your silk robe trying to figure out who your husband was anymore. You never thought his work could make him this unrecognizable.

“Work.” He said bluntly before attempting to push past your shared bedroom, you stopped him.

“Kento it's almost 3 in the morning and you’re telling me you’re just coming back from work? Don't bullshit me. I can barely recognize you— is that alcohol? Were you out fucking drinking?”

As you scolded him he showed nothing but disinterest. It's like he wanted you to stop talking. “I just went to the bar with Shoko and ‘em~ it’s not that big of a deal, honey. Calm down.”

With the look you gave him after he said that he knew he fucked up. “Calm down? You haven't given me even 5 minutes of your attention in months, Kento, and the first fucking thing you say to me after coming home almost 3, and drunk at that! you tell me to calm down?! Since you don't want me to worry about you, why don't you go live with Shoko ‘and ‘em’ instead?”

he watched as you said this with tears in your eyes before going back into the room and throwing a couple of pillows and a blanket at him before slamming the bedroom door and locking him out.

Nanami sighed as he adjusted the cushions and pillows to make himself comfortable on the couch. He regretted everything he just said to you, he vowed to make things right in a couple of hours. But until he crawled underneath the covers and fell asleep.

The next few days were the worst. You gave him the cold shoulder and wouldn't speak to him even if your life depended on it. You refused to stay in the same room with him for more than 15 minutes, you were washing the dishes? You'd drop them and come back to them later. You were eating dinner? You’d take the food back in the room and eat it there. You even went as far as to cook in smaller portions so that he had nothing to eat at all times. You were pissed and he knew it. He made several attempts to talk to you and even texted you just for you to leave him on read.

ken 💕: Darling? I'm so so sorry for what I said, please speak to me.

ken 💕: I'm back on my normal hours if that makes you feel any better.

ken 💕: I love you.

“Baby?” you looked up from your spot on the couch to see your husband with a bouquet of roses. He looked so.. Exhausted.

He has bags under his eyes and had he been… crying? “I know you probably don't want anything to do with me right now but can you please listen to me?” You nodded in response.

“Thank you. I realized what I did to you was completely immature. After work, Shoko and Gojo carried me out for a few drinks because they saw that I was pretty tense. I lost track of time and how much I drank, I’m sorry. And about me working overtime… I stopped doing it. I’m back on my normal hours.”

He said all of that while blushing and scratching the nape of his neck which made you smile. You got up to hug him and whispered into his ear “After you put the roses in some water meet me in the bedroom so you can apologize to me fully.”

you gave him a smirk with a light nibble on his ear when you pulled away, grazing your hand over his crotch and walking back to the bedroom. Nanami swore that he'd never moved that fast for anything in his entire life. He quickly shoved the roses into the vase you two kept on the kitchen counter and made his way to the bedroom.

The sex that night was phenomenal. He was kneeling at the edge of the bed, eating you out even though you insisted that it was fine. By the time he finally pushed himself in you it felt as if you were gonna break him in half.

He silently cursed under his breath for not fucking you sooner. Nanami made love to you so tender and sensual that night, murmuring little “i love yous” into the crook of your neck and told you how sorry he was too. The next morning he made sure to take the week of the give you all of his attention. Boy, you loved him more than anything.

!!! Not proofread !!!

a/n: suggested to me by my moot @/twicelles! i’ve had this in my drafts for about a week lol.

© strawbrryval, 2023. do not copy, steal, or repost my content without permission.

[goldsbitch]

That one trip up the stairs

part 5 to That one Christmas flight

summary: The rest of the hotel visitors probably had a bad sleep that night.

warning: unprotected sex, minors DNI (absolutely no plot involved), and all the classic ones - cheesy af, swear words and alcohoI I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

PS: Thanks for the support and reactions!! Love you all!

Dancing was great. But simply not enough for two impatient hearts. The kind of tipsy for which alcohol was not enough.

"I got us two rooms. Just in case," he said in the very few moments when his tongue was not deeply in her mouth. "Don't want to make you uncomfortable." Lando was big on consent. This only made Y/N want to fuck him more.

Talking and making out at the same time was becoming a shared past time for the pair. "Yeah? Well that makes two of us. I don't want pressure you," she said in between kisses. "That's the last thing I'd want to do. You don't have to fuck me. I understand the thought of you being inside me might be hard to take in," she said in a low suggestive tone with no other intension that seducing Lando. It was not like he needed to be at this point. He had her seated on some random alcove window on the way to their hotel room, hands full on touching her boobs, legs, kissing her neck, everything all at once.

"Get it? It's a pun," she broke their kiss again for a small moment.

"Yes, I get it. And you'll get it too if you don't stop now." Tongues and lips danced together as if their life depended on it.

"Hm, that might be hard, in fact getting harder and harder. Makes one wonder, huh" she teased and ran few stairs away from Lando.

There was no elevator, but Lando and Y/N sure had the making out while walking on stairs thing covered like professionals. Leaning on walls, nearly breaking a vase with a massive flower arrangement. They hardly noticed a distressed gentlemen walking in the opposite way who then filed a complaint to the hotel about their inappropriate behavior, describing it in such a detail one would expect the premium hotel to somewhat censor - which was not the case this time. When Lando received this email two days later, he had it printed, framed and hung on his bedroom wall. Next to his trophies.

Y/N wanted Lando and for him to want her too. And coming to think of it, she had been lusting for him for weeks now. The public shirtless pictures did not help. And he was right here at her finger tips. Her clouded mind saw no issue in removing his shirt in the middle of the hallway. Quickly working the buttons and the immediately throwing it out of the nearest window.

"Oops," she smiled and bit her lip. Lando stared at her in awe, her playfulness being something new to see in a woman. "Just sort of felt like a crime to have you dressed, you know?" she continued. If he could, he would take her right there. "Let's hope your hotel rooms are close, otherwise you'll be in trouble for public nudity soon," she sang loudly, indeed without a care in the world. Lando laughed, took her by the hand and kissed like as if he was ready to eat her up.

"That door, honey," he pointed to the end of the hallway.

"You're just lucky, aren't you."

//

And again, Y/N's hands went immediately for the chest. What she did not expect when studying Lando's photos was how smooth his skin felt. She remembered his fragrance working like magic on his skin, but this was a whole another level. She wanted to sink in him. They did not bother with putting the card in the holder, switching on the lights or anything else. It would be hard to find some other pair that took of their shoes so fast. Desire was putting them both into hyper speed.

This time Y/N had Lando pressed against the door, holding him locked by his arms. Lando could have easily escape that if he wanted to, which was the last thing he'd do. Y/N was becoming more driven and forward.

She bit his lower lip. He gasped. "Do you like this?" He nodded and smiled. "Good boy," she replied and continued pulling his hair a little bit more, just to the edge of pain. The she abruptly stopped. Lando looked at her and she instructed him to stay as he was. Her soft kisses started at Lando's ear, moving slowly on his jaw, then neck - where he seemed to be extra sensitive - and then down to his chest, all the way to his toned stomach. She looked up at him and took the hem of his trousers into her mouth. And finally, one of her hands touched his growing erection.

"Interesting," she commented with a hint of being impressed. Lando was absolutely loving that. But as much as he'd like to be in her mouth, he hoped there would be another time for that. He put a finger below her jaw and instructed her to move up.

"Honey, be patient. There steps that can't be skipped," he said as he began to toy with her shoulder straps until one of them fell down her shoulder. "Oops," he remarked mocking her previous actions. "Let me help you." And he moved the second strap as well. Y/N was getting flustered. She did not break eye contact for a second when she was removing her dress, leaving her standing there centimetres away from him only in her underwear. The rest of their clothes was on the floor in the matter of seconds. Both of them being eaten up by their curiosity. It was impossible to stay there standing. Lando pushed Y/N towards the bed in the same was they'd manager to walk up three flights of stairs. Only once she was finally lying below his, with his body hovering over hers was he able to relax and take the moment in. A week ago he would not have believed this was going to happen. His deep philosophical thoughts were gone the moment her hand reached for his cock. A shock wave of horny energy sprung through him and took Y/N nipple in his mouth and started playing with one, hard making sure the other one did feel left out. She was beautiful - this was not a surprise to Lando, but something about the shape of her body, the way she moved, the way how her body reacted to his actions was making her angel-like. Y/N wanted to go slow - if slow meant him waiting another minute maximum before he got into her. She touched him and started stroking him. "I have a proposition," she whispered to his ear.

"Anything," and he was sure he'd do anything she desired at the moment.

"Let's skip the fingers and tongues, I need to feel you like now. I want you inside. And the rest can be a nice breakfast tomorrow."

"I can't have that. Let me lick you once, just to taste, hm?"

"You can do whatever. Just make me happy and make me come, finally."

She was wet, ready and impatient. Lando licked her few times, making her regret her request instantly. It was something completely new. He wasn't just spalling his tongue around like the boys before him had. It was as if he had a secret map and was not afraid to be a little rough with his tongue. "Please, don't stop," she almost begged.

"As you said, breakfast," he joked once he was back face to face with her, being proud of himself when he saw her flustered look. Their bodies acted on their own from that moment. He slowly entered her, making sure to stay aware of her expressions. She had her eyes closed and was gripping his shoulders tightly. First moans arrived. Lando recalled Y/N teasing him on the way to the hotel that she likes to express herself verbally. He hoped this was what she talked about, because the sound she made was one of the hottest things he heard. Lando felt as if he belonged inside of her. Started thrusting slowly - and that was the moment Y/N lost it and let go. The rest was a mixture of blurry pleasure waves coming from all parts of the body, alcohol intensifying the experience for both of them. Lando was trapped in the moment and the rhytmn, watched her boobs bounce as he pushed to her. Y/N felt him present at every inch of her skin, his cock hitting spots she had no idea existed. Small waves of pleasure turned bigger with every move, until she collapsed in his arms and screamed out loud. He could watch that on repeat for centuries. She tightened around him for a good few seconds and then released. Lando sped up and pulled out at the dead last moment, hitting her stomach and a part of her arms. He cleaner her up and they both started catching up on their lost breaths. "Forgot to ask you, do you have a condom?" he asked cheekily. She laughed. "You'll send me your test results later, honey," she laughed, fully exhausted and high from all the hormones. Lando's body felt relaxed, as if someone finally allowed him to go off all the tension. Y/N was still receiving small pleasure waves in her fingertips. Was sex supposed to always be this good, she asked herself, putting her previous hook ups in a completely new light. He reached to her face and wiped a tear of sweat from her cheek. During that her studies her, the way her collarbone stood out and how her chest still went up and down faster than usually. Y/N looked him deep into his eyes. It was so easy, no awkward tension. She admired his pretty face and then kissed him lightly.

He was the one to suggest a shower. Tired Y/N grabbed all that was left in her and went ahead. She got up naked and hoped he was watching her. Which he did shamelessly, trying to burn the image of her ass into his brain for later use.

Lando's hair was all curly and cute. Y/N commented on that to which he responded by splashing some water in her face. It was hard to focus on anything else but the way how Lando looked and glowed with ease. "I'll help you with the soap," he offered dearly.

"Always a gentleman," Y/N remarked as he spread it all over her body, being extra focused on very specific parts.

"I don't think my boobs have ever been this clean, Lando," she said and reached for his again erected penis.

"Hygiene, people tend to underestimate it dearly," he managed to get out before dozing off from the way she stroked him, making him come for the second time today.

They dried each other with hotel towels, when Y/N started to come to her sense and usual brain usage levels. "Do you happen to know what happened to my luggage? Is it in the car?"

"Had it all brought here, I guess it's in the second room across the hall."

"Wow, who would assume for you to be such a planner. Shall we get to the second room? And maybe test which bed better?"

Lando smiled. "I can see you falling asleep while standing, honey."

"It feels nice spending time with you, you know?"

He kissed her once again, cupping her cheek and stroking her hair. They went to the other room, brushed their teeth and laid down. Y/N was gone asleep immediately. He watched for few more moments before also dozing off. If he wanted to he, he would - and he really wanted to.

part 6

__________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak

[cinnanmonn]

🌷𝙱𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴🌷

Yan! Classmate x GN Secret Admirer Reader

Tw: stalking, dub-con, masterbation

It's so confusing. You like him so much. You could only stare at him in admiration in hopes he'll look at you like that as well.

School was starting to drain you, yet he gave you determination to keep attending to school, just so you could glance at 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

It hurts you to the core, no matter what happens, your just his classmate. You really don't have the balls to talk to him.

The only thing that makes you delusional enough to think you have a chance is the occasional eye contact.

Sometimes you would get caught staring, but instead of looking away or even being disgusted, he flashes you a sweet smile.

He's so damn cute. That's likely the only communication the both of you have.

You really wanted to know more about him. So much that at some point, you followed him home.

You even brought your camera, taking a few sneaky pictures. Whenever you looked through them, you felt a sense of disgust at yourself, yet a tingly and warm feeling in your chest.

You would even stalk his social medias, wanting to know more about his interests and personality. You had found out, he was 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 with tulips. Not even flowers in general, just tulips.

So you gathered the courage to give him some. For the hopes of making him happy. You even practiced on how to give it to him and prepared a reason.

The day came as you go to class, stashing the bouquet of flowers in a paper bag, making sure to hide it.

You couldn't stop staring at the time as the day passed by, it was already time to go home. You were too cowardly and let him leave.

......

I really want to give it to him. No matter how silly this is, I just wanna see him. Right now.

You quickly make your way to him right before he was about to leave.

You shout his name as you run towards him.

"Please wait! " you say, panting heavily. He looks at you, fuck. He's so cute, his eyes, his mouth, his nose, everything.

"Uhm... So I wanted to give these to you since I saw that you were part of gardening club... "

.....What the actual hell. You didn't know what nonsense you were spouting. Heck, he wasn't even part of the gardening club! He's part of the cooking club!

He turns in a 180° degree angle and smiles sweetly, giving you butterflies.

"I'm actually not part of the gardening club, but tulips are my favorite. Thank you. " he takes it and gives a sniff.

"Yeah... " You smile awkwardly from embarrassment and happiness.

"Alright.... I'll get going.... " you quickly turn around and sprint away.

He waves at you, before heading to his own home.

Once he returned home, he couldn't wait. You were too cool. It's all your fault. Now he has a big problem in his pants.

He carefully puts the tulips in a vase, before grabbing one and lying down on his bed, unzipping his pants.

It's so pretty. So pretty, like you. The tulips reminded him of you. Heck, he didn't even need lube. He was already so wet.

He couldn't help but stroke himself by thoughts of you. Did you really care for him like that? Of course you did. You followed him to his home, always looked at him so sweetly, he couldn't handle it.

It drove him crazy. Crazy for you. "A-ahh...! " he could feel himself grow closer to release as he strokes his shaft.

His speed increases, he wants to hump you right now. He wants you to touch him and violate him real bad. He loves you so so so so so much. How do you not know?

The day you met, you were really sweet to him, your pretty figure always helped him when you started high school. Now high school is about to end and that crush still lasts.

But he's so happy you like him back!

He needed you so badly. Every single day, all because of you. The way you stare at him made him frequently need to go to the restroom, the teacher even asked if he had bladder problems or something.

"Mh... Ah... my love....! " he strokes faster as he came, at the thought of you. He looks at his hand, he had seen this sight so many times, look what you've done to him.

➹➹➹

"Ahh.... I wonder what he thought of it. "

Would he think it's weird? Is he disgusted? Did he absolutely love it and kissed it all night?

You could barely sleep that night. Because of the excitement and nervousness, also the weird feeling of someone else watching you.

♡---------------------------------------------------♡

𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢, 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 (　；∀；)

𝙳𝚘 𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝? 𝙲𝚞𝚣 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚗 :𝙳

[llamagoddessofficial]

Skull is happy and safe now. But sometimes, the worst habits are the hardest to break.

(Short thing I cooked up while feeling sad. It's pretty angsty, and involves dealing with family death, so be warned, but it has a bittersweet happy ending.)

---

“... Skull?”

...

He didn’t respond. He sat there, staring at the front door, motionless and silent. He’d been like that for almost two hours.

You sat beside him, but he made no move to greet you. He didn’t seem to realise you were even there. It was only when you touched the top of his hand, gently, that he spoke, iris trained unwaveringly on the door.

“... crooks’ll be home soon.” He mumbled.

Ah. Your chest ached... it was one of those days.

... Crooks was Skull’s younger brother. His only family. Skull had told you a lot about him, over the course of your time together- he told you about raising Crooks himself, a consequence of losing their parents at a very young age. He told you about taking care of Crooks before he even knew how to take care of himself. He told you about teaching him to read, to write, to cook, to use magic. He told you about Crooks’ love of puzzles and logic games, his bombastic personality and endless kindness, the hours he spent pouring over junior jumble. He told you about how when his own depressive episodes became too much, Crooks kept him from slipping. He told you about how, since before he could remember, it had always been the two of them. They were an inseparable pair.

...

Crooks had fallen to hopelessness, in the Underground. Only a few years before the Monsters were freed.

... Skull didn’t talk much about those last years. You didn’t ask. But Skull clearly never recovered from losing the last piece of his family. Deluding himself into believing that his brother was simply ‘out’ and would come home soon was his only way of coping. Of surviving.

Even now, he still wasn't good at being alone.

Skull was better, on the surface. He had new friends and acquaintances. New routines, new comforts. He had you- his partner. But sometimes, when he had bad days, he would slip back into the mental patterns that had kept him alive for so long.

... You wondered how many hours Skull had spent, alone in a silent home, down in the Underground. Waiting for Crooks to come back. Staring blankly at a door that would never open again.

...

You took his hand in both of yours. You played gently with his worn, cracked bones... giving him a little more time in a world where his brother was still alive.

...

“Skull?” You said, softly. “... I’m a bit hungry. Could you make me something?”

That was the only thing that ever worked.

...

His eyelight shifted. Then blossomed a little wider... his mouth started to make minute movements, like he was sleeptalking.

“... hungry.” He eventually said aloud. His hand twitched, then carefully curled around yours- he sounded like he still wasn’t all there.

“Yes.”

“... she’s hungry...” His eyelight flickered again. “... get up... she’s... hungry...” 

Skull swayed slightly, then stood. You stood with him... he lumbered to the kitchen, but kept a tight hold of your hand, taking you with him.

...

He was already cutting the steak, when you saw him ‘wake up’. 

There was a noticeable pause, in his ministrations. The previously almost-robotic movements of the knife slowed to a halt. You saw his eyelight shiver... he blinked, then started slowly looking around at the room. 

His line of sight focused on a vase full of flowers. The two of you had set those up, around the house, always within line of sight. Things that would remind him he’s on the surface now.

Two seconds. Three, four...

...

“... sorry.” He mumbled, putting the knife down. There he was; Skull was back. He seemed embarrassed.

“Hey, hey.” You squeezed his hand. “No, don’t apologise. It’s okay. You just needed a minute.”

He sighed, forlorn. “i cut up our good steak...”

“Well. I’d rather you handled that steak than me. I don’t trust myself with something so nice.”

He snorted, trying to hold back his laughter. When he looked at you, his eyelight was big and shiny, and you felt a smile creep onto your face.

“... might as well cook it anyway.” He mumbled, taking the knife up again. “expensive steak for lunch, huh?”

“I’m not complaining.”

Another snort. He was grinning now.

He didn’t let go of your hand... you were impressed he cooked the whole meal one-handed.

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training XIII (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

Peter was at work.

It had been some weeks since the inevitable had happened, waking up to find Peter putting on his uniform. You had expected it at some point, but definitely not so soon. Or, at least, soon for you. It had been hard to hide the disappointment on your features when the dark-haired man had glanced at you, his own face falling some as he neared you.

“Hey,” he’d softly said, cupping your face as he leaned over the bed. “It’ll be okay.”

You hadn’t responded, only blinking, and Peter continued.

“I’ll only be gone a few hours, just to get both of us back into the swing of things. I’ll be back in no time,” he’d assured you.

He’d been right, of course. He had only been gone for a few hours that day, but what felt like no time to him felt like an entire day to you. You’d gone through every task like it was indeed nothing more than a chore, merely trying to find some solace in your cleaning and cooking and gardening, trying to find some way to keep your mind off of Peter’s absence.

In truth, all you’d accomplished was counting down the minutes until he returned.

You’d been in the middle of helping Pepper with lunch when familiar hands had settled on your waist. It had startled you, at first, before the familiarity of them set in, prompting you to stop what you were doing. You hadn’t hesitated to turn and wrap your arms around him, feeling so much more at ease with him home.

“What’ya making?” he’d asked after briefly acknowledging the other woman in the room when she’d done the same.

“Thor wanted subs,” you’d told him. “Pepper’s toasting the bread.”

He’d smiled at that, and it was something you did often, now. Unable to hide your relief at having Peter home, telling him about your day, and listening when he did the same. The town struck you as so small, from what you remembered anyway, but you were always shocked by just how much crime and mess Peter and the rest of the station had to deal with.

The day he’d come home with a bandage on his arm was burned into your memory.

“It’s nothing,” he’d kept reassuring you. “Just some asshole trying to rob a bank with bad aim.”

You hadn’t laughed at the joke as Peter had, and he’d quickly swallowed his chuckles down. He’d reached out to touch your face in the hallway, but you’d been intently focused on the light blood that had bled through a bit. He’d been right, of course. It was nothing, a flesh wound, a graze, but it hadn’t stopped you from worrying all the same.

The heaviness in your chest had shocked you. After all, you liked to think that Peter meant nothing to you, but that wasn’t entirely true. You’d hesitantly reached up to graze his arm just below the white gauze, eyes burning. Peter could’ve been seriously hurt, he could’ve died, and that had worried you for more reasons than one.

“Peter,” you’d softly started once in the privacy of your room moments later. “What would happen to me…if something happened to you…?”

Surprisingly, it was a thought that had never occurred to you before. These men were mortal and human just like anyone else, and considering their professions, the possibility of any of them dying should’ve entered your mind at least once or twice. However, as you’d stared at his arm, you realized that this was the first time you’d truly given it some thought.

You’d heard him sigh.

“Don’t think about that,” he’d tried to coax you away from the thought, making you look at him.

“…but you’re a cop…and clearly this town isn’t as boring and safe as I’d initially thought.”

You had multiple reasons to come to that conclusion.

“What if something does happen to you?” you’d quietly asked him.

Peter had stared at you for a while before slowly leaning in and brushing his lips against yours.

“That won’t happen, pretty girl,” he’d slowly assured you, continuing before you could say anything. “…but if that ever were to happen…you’d just still be a functioning part of the household with no title to your name.”

You had frowned at that. So, you’d still be doing as you did but just without Peter around. The thought had terrified you for one reason above all else, and his name was Steve. You didn’t even want to imagine the kind of trouble you’d get into without Peter around to protect you, and you had thrown your arms around him before you knew it.

He’d rubbed your back, making soothing sounds, but you’d shaken your head, burying your face into his shoulder.

“I think I’d rather just die.”

You had said it so quietly you were sure Peter didn’t even hear you, but if the way he’d paused was anything to go by, he’d heard you clearly.

You couldn’t survive in this place without Peter, and he had to know that. You felt like you were barely hanging on when he was around, and God knows that thread only became thinner when he went to work. If you had to face the reality of never seeing Peter ever again, you didn’t doubt that you’d lose all reason under Steve’s wrath and stern discipline.

“Don’t say that,” he’d whispered. “Besides, it’s not going to happen.”

You had to believe that because the alternative wasn’t feasible to you.

“You don’t know that,” you’d murmured back, fingers digging into his side and the uninjured arm.

“You wouldn’t want to live without me…? Even if you had something to remember me by?”

You’d stiffened at that, understanding dawning on you as to what he was hinting at.

Peter didn’t bring up the possibility of kids often. He probably didn’t want to scare you, but you knew what was expected of you…you knew what he wanted. On the off chance that Sharon or Laura brought their sons around or Steve or Margaret stepped out with Sarah, you were no fool. You saw the smile that lit up Peter’s boyish features. You saw the longing in his deep brown eyes, the desire to have children of his own someday…with you.

Of all the men here, if any of them deserve to have a kid, you supposed that it was Peter.

However, you wondered just how true that was. The man had kidnapped you, after all, and clearly had no qualms against his brothers and whatever methods they chose to punish their wives with. Peter wasn’t a good guy, no matter how good he made you feel these days, and so maybe he didn’t deserve any children.

…but you yourself had wanted kids someday…but not like this.

The thought of subjecting your future sons to the same fate as their father or your future daughters to the same fate as you made your eyes water. It seemed like such a cruel thing to do, but giving Peter children was inevitable, you supposed. It’s not like you had any means to protect yourself against the possibility, and since Peter had first had sex with you, he had never not come inside of you.

It was honestly only a matter of time.

“I…don’t know,” you’d honestly answered his question.

Without Peter, any child you had would be far better off with any of the other wives than with you. You doubted that you’d even be able to look after yourself, let alone a whole other person who’d completely depend on you. On the other hand, though, you didn’t know if you could trust your hypothetical child’s wellbeing with anyone but you. Especially with Steve around.

Someone had to make sure they didn’t grow up completely messed up by all of this.

…but then again…maybe you weren’t right to be that someone either.

After all, Peter had kidnapped and raped you, and you greeted him when he came home from work each evening. You smiled as you told him about your day. You clung to him in the dead of night and welcomed his kisses. Even then, as you held him and fretted over his safety and the danger you had never considered he’d be in before…

You yourself were already so messed up by all of this, so how could you keep the same from happening to anyone else?

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl.”

Peter’s soft encouragement went straight to the pit of your stomach, adding to the heat that was already there. The water in the bathtub jostled slightly, small ripples in the water from your movements. Peter’s hands were pressed firmly into your waist, and you could feel his gaze on you.

“So good,” he whispered, leaning up and brushing his lips against yours.

You felt so…full, much fuller than you did when Peter was covering your frame with his own, pressing you into the mattress and pushing his cock into you with a pace that had your breath shortening. Now, you were the one on top of him, lifting and lowering yourself, sliding up and down on his cock with every movement.

A simple bath had turned into something more when Peter’s hand dipped between your legs, a noise of mischief escaping his lips as you’d tried to shy away. He’d been smooth in sliding you back onto him, a hand resting on your back before he’d expressed his desire to see your face.

Peter pressed kisses along the expanse of your throat, tasting you with them and his tongue. Your bare chest brushed against his own with every rise and fall of your hips, your hands pressed into his shoulders to steady yourself. Sex wasn’t new to you, but you’d always thought of it as a chore more often than not. You’d thought it was just one of those things that wasn’t for you.

Peter’s presence proved that the fault lay with bad boyfriends.

Granted, it’s not like Peter gave you the choice to refuse sex, therefore forcing you to engage in something you’d always thought of as meh. He didn’t even allow you to disassociate as you had in the past, forcing you to be present and engaging and taking pleasure that you weren’t all that familiar with. You both hated and loved it.

Peter moaned into your mouth as he kissed you, a wet hand massaging into your back, and you kissed him back, hot and wanton and just as hungry for your climax as he was his. Every time you sank down onto him, your walls stretched, and with Peter’s hand on your hip, rolling it over his, you had to pull away and gasp.

The first time you came around him, you were in the tub, but you were in the bed when you stiffened around him for the second time. Peter talked you through it, whispering sweet nothings to you as explosions burst behind your eyes, one hand twisted with yours and the other tracing patterns into your thigh.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured into your neck, his chest pressed to your back as you lay beneath him. “We both have to wake up pretty early, though.”

He sounded sad as he said that, pulling away from you. You were still catching your breath when you turned to face him, eyes fluttering closed as he reached out to brush his fingers over your face. You were tired, but you still found the strength to stare back at him. Peter was pretty, you’d noted before, but it was something you hadn’t wanted to linger on then.

Your eyes drooped a bit as his hand danced towards yours, taking it and playing with your fingers. It was moments like this that made it so easy to pretend. It was dark outside, and in the room, the only light coming from the glow of the moon outside. The rest of the house was quiet, and the only sounds in the room were that of your labored breathing.

It was moments like this that made it easy to pretend as if Peter hadn’t kidnapped you, as if his brothers hadn’t killed your friends. It was easy to pretend like you were the only ones in this whole house, just basking in each other’s presence and the afterglow of taking pleasure in each other’s bodies under the cover of darkness.

Like a normal man with a normal job simply coming home from work and making love to his normal wife.

Peter’s fingers touched your ring, and you were brought back to reality.

“Not every couple has done it…but some of the others have…had ceremonies…”

Your brows rose at that, and Peter’s gaze remained on the thorned ring around your finger.

“I would really like it if we had one too,” he murmured. “I… I want to declare my love and vows to you in front of the whole family…and have you do the same to me.”

You didn’t know how to feel about that, and so you merely frowned. Your eyes met Peter’s when he finally glanced up, and his tongue darted between his lips.

“…because I do, you know.”

When you didn’t respond, your confusion must’ve been evident to him because he continued.

“I do love you.”

That word made you feel faint, and you quickly sat up. Peter followed, a hand on the back of your neck and the other still playing with your hand.

“I do,” he reiterated, making it hard to swallow. “You’re so open about what’s on your mind, and you’re never afraid to ask me anything you want.”

You hesitantly looked at him, pulling your gaze away from the sheets.

“…and now that you’ve finally settled here, I can see how caring you are. I see how worried you get when you think Jane is straining herself or when you think Margaret might be too tired on her feet. I saw it when you were more worried about your mom than…”

He trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish it. Maybe it was silly at the time to worry more about your free mom than your captive self, but you couldn’t help it.

“I knew I chose right, but it’s something entirely different to have it confirmed every single day,” Peter whispered, taking his hand and resting it under your chin. “…and you may not love me yet, but that’s okay because I know you will…just like I love you.”

Peter’s words were so…heavy. You found it hard to believe that he loved you, but then again, Peter had nothing but all the time in the world to observe you and watch you and take note of every flaw and quirk. Who were you to tell him what he felt? No man had ever told you that before, and there were layers to the fact that the first one who did was the same who’d stolen you away.

Something stirred in your chest at that.

“I want to make every promise in the world to you, and I want to do it in front of our family.”

Our family.

That was so strange to hear, but wasn’t it the truth? You had long accepted that you were never leaving, and despite what you personally wanted, this was your family, now…weren’t they?

“You don’t have to give me an answer, now,” Peter assured you, laying back down, fingers grazing over your lower back. “…but you know what I want.”

Yes, but what did you want?

You cared about Peter more than you wanted to admit. The thought of losing him in any way made your chest ache, but that wasn’t love. You knew what it really was, but your heart couldn’t decipher real feelings from ones brought on by circumstances and a means to cope. Your heart only knew that Peter was now in it, and his fingers on your skin and his devotional words made you feel things that you were ashamed of.

He pulled you back down to lie with him, resting your head on his arm as you clung to it. You looked up at him as sleep fought to claim him, his own lashes fluttering as he stifled a yawn. You were going to be with Peter forever, that was indubitable, and declaring that in front of the whole household wasn’t going to make it any more true than it already was.

You tilted your head back down, pressing your face into the arm of the man who loved you.

You had just got done taking the dish out of the oven when a familiar voice outside drew your attention. Peter’s laugh was loud, and you hurried to set the heavy pie and get your gloves off. He had been gone when you woke up, and Sam had told you that he’d had to go in early with Steve. You thought that meant he’d be home earlier, but no. This was one of those rare days where he was gone almost the whole day, and you’d been so anxious.

“Slow down, Y/N,” Christine called as you dashed out of the kitchen.

No other effort was made to stop you, and you practically tripped over your feet as you hurried down the hall. If Peter was having some important conversation with Steve and Tony, he put it on the back burner in favor of catching you as you flew into his arms.

“Woah, hey,” he chuckled, arm tight around you as he held you to him.

“I haven’t seen you all day,” you murmured. “You were gone when I woke up.”

You pulled away just a tad, hand twisting into Peter’s dark uniform as he gave you an apologetic smile.

“I know,” he sadly said. “This one screwed up some paperwork with a guy we arrested, and we had to go in pretty early.”

He jerked his head towards Steve as he said this, and you’d forgotten about the blonde’s presence entirely. Tony too. You barely spared them both a glance, only acknowledging them as evenly and respectfully as possible without putting in too much effort. You were already turning back to Peter when they returned the acknowledgement.

“Jane told me your favorite food,” you told him, pulling and forcing him to come with you.

He threw Steve and Tony a backwards glance as he waved them off, signaling that they’d continue whatever they were talking about later.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I made a cherry pie,” your tone was hopeful, nervous, and Peter’s gaze lit up.

“Really…?” he wondered as he stopped, more excited, now. “All by yourself?”

You nodded.

“It hasn’t been tasted yet, so I hope you like it,” you worriedly said.

The other man softly chuckled, and you briefly glanced up as Natasha walked by.

“I bet it’s perfect,” Peter assured you, kissing your cheek. “…and even if it isn’t, I’ll love it anyway. You made it, after all.”

You weren’t able to linger on his words like you wanted to, worriedly gazing at the redhead’s back.

You’d been worried for her ever since that day she’d told you she thought she was pregnant. She hadn’t brought it up since, and neither had you, too afraid of being overheard by the wrong person. You didn’t know if she was or wasn’t, and if she was, and Bucky knew, the whole house would definitely know by now. Thor had made a whole day of it when he found out Jane was pregnant, and considering what Natasha had told you about all of their efforts, you doubted that Bucky would be any different.

However, there was no word of it, and while Natasha didn’t seem as mopey as she had been, she was still…off. Quieter. She smiled more, now, especially at Bucky, and you’d found yourself wondering if she’d made peace with what he did to your friends so quickly. It seemed…unlikely but considering that she was in the same boat as you, with no chances of leaving, it’s possible she wanted to make peace with it for her own sake.

You wouldn’t fault her if she did.

None of this was easy, and especially so considering her own history with Bucky, so you felt no anger or disgust when their intertwined hands rested on the table between them. You didn’t blame her for the smiles she threw his way, or the soft kisses on her cheek that she didn’t turn away from. After all, you yourself had cut the first piece of pie for Peter, anxious to see how the brunette liked it.

“It’s great,” he hummed.

You’d been skeptical, still unsure of your own cooking skills, but Peter had assured you that he wasn’t placating you. He’d even fed you a piece, and you’d been shocked at just how good it really was. You and Peter had mostly been in your own world throughout dinner. After all, you hadn’t seen him all day, something that only strengthened your animosity towards Steve, and you felt like you had so much to tell him.

So, when dinner was over—and Natasha and Laura were cleaning up—you were disappointed as Peter stood too. The other men were heading towards the den to talk about work and the household as they did every evening after dinner. Peter’s hand was on your lower back as he walked you towards the stairs, and you knew your hesitation was evident.

“You’ve been gone all day,” you whispered, almost afraid to voice your desire to have him come upstairs with you. “…and who knows how long that will take. I don’t want to be asleep when you finally come up to bed.”

Peter tilted his head at you, studying you in a way you couldn’t place. His other hand reached for yours, fingers threading through your own, and you watched his tongue dart between his lips. There was a furrow between his brows, like he was thinking deeply about something before he glanced over his shoulder.

“Do you want to sit with me?”

You hadn’t expected that.

You didn’t quite catch what he meant at first, and then it was your turn to frown. You blinked at him, confusion and apprehension filling you.

“I can…?”

You couldn’t swallow down the small relief you were starting to feel. It would be different—unfamiliar—but at least you’d be with Peter instead of alone in your bedroom.

“Am I allowed to?” you wondered. “I didn’t think any of us could.”

Peter gave you an encouraging smile.

“It’s not common,” he honestly answered, pulling you along. “…but sometimes little Sarah can only be quieted by Steve so Margaret will bring her, or now, with Jane being pregnant and hormonal, she gets her way if she wants to rest in Thor’s lap.”

He chuckled at that.

You’d cleaned the den a few times. It was a large room with no windows, only brightened by the low light of lamps. The furniture was all dark wood and leather, and it had a bar that you’d never been tempted to use. You’d always been able to imagine the men sitting around and discussing police paperwork and what household business needed to take priority over others.

As Peter led you into the room, you realized you’d be witnessing it tonight.

“Peter…”

Steve’s stern drawl of his name reached your ears, half warning, half question.

“She’ll be good,” Peter lightly promised.

There were just enough seats for the men, and you realized why Peter had mentioned Jane sitting in Thor’s lap when she got in one of her moods. You didn’t hesitate to sit by Peter’s feet, curling your legs up underneath you as he took your hand. Truthfully, you didn’t care what they had to discuss, even if it was interesting and consisted of the mention of some woman who’d broken into a house.

You just cared about being next to Peter.

As you’d guessed, you were tired, and you were right to worry that you would’ve been asleep by the time Peter joined you. At some point during the meeting, your head drooped, and you did the right thing in leaning it against the side of Peter’s leg, your cheek resting on his thigh. Your hands curled around his leg, holding onto him as you fought sleep. Your lashes fluttered, and it was easier said than done…

Especially when you felt Peter’s hand on your head.

His fingers gently pressing into your scalp was soothing, and you slowly blinked, fighting fatigue. You were pretty sure Thor was talking, now. Or was it Stephen? Either way, it didn’t help, and you shifted, tightening your arms around Peter’s leg. The feel of his hand in your hair was going to put you fast asleep…if it weren’t for the feel of an oppressing gaze.

When you glanced over, your eyes met familiar blue ones, Steve hardly paying attention to a thing Stephen was saying. His cold blue irises were focused entirely on you. For a moment, you worried that you did something wrong, and you clung to Peter even tighter, and the brunette made an inquiring humming noise. You only shook your head in response, looking away from the blond and desperately wondering why he seemed to hate you so.

It was hours later when sleep evaded you. It was strange. You’d been so exhausted downstairs that you’d passed out almost immediately when you crawled into bed. However, your body had betrayed you in the middle of the night, waking and refusing to go back. Peter’s arm was comforting around your waist when you stirred, and you’d simply laid there for a few moments, basking in the feel and sound of him before making your way to the window.

The moon was only half full, and you used the glow of it to look down at your ring.

You thought about what Peter had said, about a ceremony, and you touched the thorned metal. You had never given marriage a lot of thought before, but you had never imagined it would be in the backyard of a large and beautiful country house, decorations and everything homemade.

You had also never imagined it would be to the man who’d kidnapped you either, but…

You sighed, shifting the ring a tad and blinking. It was true that your friends would want you to be happy, and that your mom, wherever she hoped you were, hoped you were okay. In a lot of ways, you weren’t, but in some ways…you were. No one in your life would’ve wanted this for you, that was sure, but you were in a bad situation, you were never getting out of this bad situation, and so why not make some good of it?

You glanced up, eyes running over the yard briefly, and you were about to look back down at your ring…

…when you saw it.

Movement in the yard made you blink, and it was so late, you almost wrote it off as some animal. You were out in the rural Midwest, hidden away amongst the trees, and so the odd animal here and there wasn’t uncommon. Jane had left a towel on the clothesline one night and something had dragged it off by the next morning.

However, looking closer, the figure was too large to be some animal.

They were moving across the yard, slowly and carefully, as if they were trying to go undetected. There was a sinking feeling deep in your gut, and you took a step closer to the window. You could feel yourself frowning, worry coursing through you as you watched some stranger figure move about. You were just about to call for Peter when the glow of the moon glinted off of hair.

Beautiful red hair.

Your lips parted at the sight of Natasha in the yard. It was too late for anyone to be outside, let alone her, and when she looked over her shoulder, her green eyes lifted right towards your window. You could tell that she saw you, her face falling just a tad, and you both blinked at each other. It didn’t quite click at first, unable to understand why Natasha was outside so late, but then your eyes fell to her clothes, clothes that she wouldn’t be caught dead in in the house.

Bucky’s clothes.

You felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had washed over you, and you placed your hand on the window, your gaze almost pleading. You silently begged her to come back, to turn around before she was caught. You shook your head, disbelief and horror and confusion tearing through you. You shook your head at her again, glancing at your door, trying to silently convey that you’d help her come back inside and lie if need be.

Anything to keep her from being thrown in that basement again.

However, Natasha silently refused, her only response being to step away slowly and continue going. You sharply exhaled, feeling frozen, and you didn’t know what to do. She didn’t look back again as she ran across the yard, and you pressed your hand to your stomach just as a familiar voice reached your ears.

“What are you doing up?”

Peter’s voice was groggy, sleep coating his tone, and you flinched. Blinking, you looked over your shoulder, heart in the pit of your gut as he rubbed his eyes. You stared at Peter with parted lips, eyes burning with tears, but you didn’t know why. You were confused. You were scared, but why did you want to cry?

Was it because you had to tell Peter that Natasha had managed to sneak out somehow, making a break for it? That her entire demeanor this past month had been a farce, a way to be sure Bucky wouldn’t be suspicious? That the discovery of what he did to her friends had indeed been too much for her and had pushed her over the edge to bring all of them down?

Were you crying because you had to tell Peter Natasha had escaped and therefore get her into more trouble than she probably ever had been in before?

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Peter had seen your face, now, sitting up with concern in his eyes, and you glanced over your shoulder. You could just barely make out Natasha on the other side of the pond, so close to the trees, and you exhaled.

Or were you crying because if Natasha succeeded, your time with Peter would be numbered? Peter was the reason you were here, the sole reason you were in this place, and yet, the thought of him behind bars and forever separated from you was too much to wrap your head around. The man was your sole comfort. Peter was who you clung to, the thought of being away from him enough to send you into a downward spiral.

Peter was all you had, now…

…and yet…

With all of that being true, your eyes finally met his again.

“I… I had a nightmare.”

The lie was said so softly, you almost couldn’t believe you’d said it. You watched his face fall some, scooting to the edge of the bed and reaching for you. Like an obedient lamb, you walked right into his embrace, and more tears spilled over before you could stop them. He shushed you, rubbing your back and soothing you, but you couldn’t be consoled.

The moment to stop Natasha was gone. Who knows how long it would be before Bucky discovered her absence. If Natasha was caught, you did not envy what awaited her, but if she succeeded…you did not envy what awaited the you in the future. You did not envy the version of you that would have to watch Peter be arrested and separated from you forever.

You didn’t envy the version of you that would have to learn to live without him.

You wrapped your arms around him and let Peter pull you into a kiss.

[sexlapis]

- halloween cats? (flufftober 2023)

❀ : toji fushiguro x reader

ᨳ  ࣪ . synopsis : on the eve of halloween, you unexpectedly bring home two cats. toji is not too pleased.

. cw : s4w, short fic, fluff, lowkey crack fic, mentions of animal euthanasia, toji & reader are married, reader loves cats, toji swearing, petnames (‘kid’), _____= your name

ᨳ  ࣪ . wc : 1.1k

.. a/n : first fanfic after seven months of no writing! please enjoy <3

masterlists

*

“…what the hell is even that?”

you’re soaked by the time you step into the house, the rain had seeped through your (very poorly chosen) coat and you had forgotten your umbrella. face and hair sprinkled with droplets, nose red and clothes drenched, a multitude of shopping bags hanging from your arms. you were a mess.

but all of that is not what toji is referring to.

in both of your hands you carry a pet carrier. you didn’t mean for it to happen. it was a free day for you so you decided to make the most of it. first it was clothes shopping, then trying out new pastries in cafés, purchasing a bouquet of orange and black flowers for the vase at home, getting spooky-themed nails and more of the sort.

you believed you were done for the day, but on your way back home you spotted a sign saying, ‘Cat Adoption Here! Give a Cat a Loving Home!’ and being the cat lover you are, resisting was futile.

so there you were, standing in your home facing your bewildered husband, holding a pair of old, bonded cats.

“uhhh. they’re…toy cats.” you lie. “it’s a new thing for young adults toji,” slipping off your shoes, you rush past him, placing the pet carriers on the floor softly and plopping your shopping bags on the kitchen counter, “you wouldn’t understand.” you sniff the kitchen, smelling something sweet and homey. “oooh, what are you baking-”

“don’t bullshit me, _____.” toji chides and followed you to the kitchen. “i heard a ‘meow’ in there-”

“ok, i got a cat!…s.”

“…”

you sigh. “i…i got two cats.”

toji groans. “_____-”

“you don’t understand!” you exclaimed. “i had to! i know i should’ve spoken to you first but i did it to save them! they are both the sweetest cats i have ever met and they’re bonded and those people were going to kill them because they were old!”

“what?” questions toji. “_____, why would they kill the cats?”

“…well, they told me they’d euthanise them since nobody wanted them..that’s animal murder and that’s illegal last time i checked.”

“and that’s “killing” to you?”

“well if somebody euthanised me without asking is that not murder?”

toji doesn’t say anything and just stares at you.

that’s a win in your eyes. “exactly.”

you hear a whiny meow from one of the carriers. “oh my god, we must’ve scared them with our shouting.”

“i wasn’t shouting..”

but you pay him no mind as you lay on the floor and open the little door to the pet carrier.

“tt-tt-tt-ps-ps-ps, hi little kitty.”

the black, one-eyed cat, named ‘stitches’, lets out the cutest, high-pitched meow as she slowly walks out of the carrier. stitches looks around the new area she is in for a few seconds before walking up to you and nuzzling your hand. your heart almost bursts.

“awww!! you are sososo sweet!” you coo, scratching in between her ears and stroking her smooth, shiny fur. stitches purrs, seemingly already happy to be here. “toji look at her! isn’t she adorable? her name is stitches. because of her eye and stuff.”

toji blankly stares down at you and the cat from where he is standing. stitches looks up at him and blinks slowly before leaving you and walking up to him. she stands for a second before reaching up and puts her paws on toji’s tree trunk of a leg and meows.

“aw, toji, she likes you!” you cry out. “we definitely have to keep them now.”

toji huffs and gently waggles stitches off of his leg. “none of that, cat.”

stitches isn’t one to take no for an answer, proven when she decides to jump and climb up toji’s body all the way to his shoulders.

you cackle as toji jumps at the cats sudden movements, shoulders hunched in shock and confusion. “hey! what the hell!”

“oh, yeah, we are so keeping them.”

you quickly open the door of the other pet carrier, ignoring toji’s struggles of trying to remove the cat from his body. it was funny to see big, intimidating toji stumbling all over the place, being taken down by a cute, tiny senior cat.

“kid, you sure this is an old cat? seems pretty fucking athletic to me.” he grunts as he tries to pry stitches’ claws out of his flanneled shirt, arms contorting to reach behind his shoulders.

“mhm, i’m sure toji.” you reply, picking up the other cat, an orange male named ‘teddy’ and holding him in your arms. “this one is a boy cat. his name is teddy and he likes to be held like this.”

“uh-huh.” toji says, finally getting stitches off his body and placing her on the ground. “thanks for the help, kid.”

“you’re welcome.” you’re barely paying attention to him, gently rocking the fluffy orange cat in your arms, baby talking to him and making soft noises. teddy the cat lets out a gentle meow.

he draws his attention to you, hair ruffled from his recent battle. “okay why don’t you have a shower and change? you're drenched.” toji pats your dumb wet head.

you had forgotten about that. “alright, yeah.” you put teddy on the floor and jog towards the stairs, leaving wet footprints in your path. “keep an eye on them, toji!”

“yeah, yeah.” he waves dismissively.

toji turns back to the cats and sighs, hands on his hips. the two felines look up at him expectantly. “now what am i going to do with you two, huh?”

stitches walks up to him and reaches her paws onto toji’s trouser leg.

“ah-ah, no, no, no. bad cat! bad-”

stitches is already climbing his leg again and finds her way to his shoulder, rubbing her cheek against his temple and purring.

“ah goddammit.” toji exhales, crouching down and attempting to shake stitches off once again.

toji looks at teddy, who is staring at him quietly. “wanna help me out here orange cat?”

“…mrrp.”

*

finished with your long, hot shower, feeling warm and cosy, you go downstairs to see how toji is doing with the cats (not before having one of the cookies toji had baked though).

“toji?” you call, walking through the hallway to the living room and the sight that greets you tugs at your heartstrings.

there toji lays on the sofa, asleep, snoring, with teddy sleeping on his chest and stitches nestled at his side on his arm, also asleep.

“aw, toji..” you snap a quick picture for memories sake and save it to your favourites. underneath all that hard, domineering exterior of his, toji at heart is just a big softy.

toji seems to sense your presence and he slowly blinking awake. he groans and looks up to see you standing above him. he rubs his eyes.

“so we can keep them?”

toji rolls his eyes, huffing and puffing, looking at your pleading eyes. he doesn’t even remember why it wouldn’t be a good idea to keep them. who is he to deny you of anything? “sure why not?”

you smile, teeth and all, and kiss him on the forehead, careful not to disturb the cats. “thankyoutoji!”

the cats are purring and you’re all giddy and joyful. toji can tolerate these cats since they make you so happy.

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: uh-oh here we GO! the girls voted and the girls won, so here we are! the no-longer-flatmates-flatmate fic - you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Ugly. Green. Growing. With potential to do real harm. It crawled around and scoped him out, exploring his heart from all different angles, carefully tasting it.

It hadn’t bitten him yet, but Joe knew if he lost sight of it – if he stopped trying to control it – that eventually, it would. And it would hurt. It didn’t exactly feel great now, but once it’d sink its teeth in, Joe knew he’d be done for.

He remembered when it still good. Still nice. Warm. And soft. And joyous, all full of love.

It used to be kind and sweet and would make him smile until his cheeks were quite literally cramping.

But it’d changed. It’d turned bad.

He wished he could’ve seen it coming.

It was a good thing that he found he was able to easily control it with rational thought. Problem was that rational thought had the habit of abandoning him once it got dark outside and he was alone in his flat.

His new flat.

Where everything was his.

Where everything got put in places that he chose. All his things were where he wanted them, all catering towards his routine. Which was why a basket of underwear made it into a bathroom cupboard, and why a shelf got put up near the balcony door, so he had a place to keep his cigarettes and a lighter. Gone were the days of rummaging through coat pockets ‘til he found what he was looking for.

It was sort of great, Joe wasn’t going to lie, living on his own.

It didn’t look quite as nice, not quite as homey, but Joe was sure he’d soon learn what the place was missing. He didn’t worry about it. There were more important things to worry about. Like, how quick dust built up into bunnies underneath the sofa and how every time he’d open his front door, it’d waft out from underneath, only to settle in the middle of the room for everyone to see. Or how somehow he panicked so much about keeping his plants alive that he was systematically overwatering all of them.

Idiot.

It was fine.

Rational thinking.

It was all fine.

Things were different now.

Good different.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Joe joked as he let you in, pointing out the large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

His place already smellt amazing. Joe made a good roast, and had one going now, things in the oven, bubbling and simmering away.

“If I never did things I shouldn’t do, life would be very boring,” you said, laying the colourful bunch down on his island.

“Did... wait, did you actually get those for me?”

“Have you got a vase?” you were already opening cabinet doors. “You don’t, do you?”

When you didn’t get a reply, you turned to see Joe stare at the flowers. He looked a little dumbfounded.

“Joe?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you and blinked a few times. “Oh, um...” he squeezed his eyes shut a second, trying to gather his thoughts.

Took too long, you thought.

“A vase?” you repeated, trying very hard to keep a straight face, to not let the smallest inkling of a smile slip through.

“Sorry, I don’t... I don’t think I’ve got a vase.”

Why the fuck would he own a vase, Joe thought.

“I’ll get you one as a housewarming gift,” you found a pitcher. “This’ll do for now.”

There was evidence on the counter of what Joe had been in the middle of, cutting veggies, preparing the gravy. But as you filled the pitcher with water, Joe still kind of hovered in the same spot in silence. Looked at the flowers that you’d brought in and felt silly for how those made him feel.

When you placed the pitcher in the middle of the island and reached for the bouquet, you broke his trance, and Joe softly laughed at himself.

“This is... my God, this is so sweet? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before.”

“Well,” you smiled back, about to throw stones into your own windows. “I didn’t get them for you.”

“Oh?” Joe immediately felt embarrassed. Mortified. Felt the skin of his neck flush with heat.

“I got them for your flat.”

Got him.

Joe let out the breath he was holding in defeat, dropping his head and smiling. Scoffed softly at himself because you were joking, and he was an idiot.

“You know, give it some colour. Give me something nice to look at when I’m here.” you plopped the flowers into the pitcher and didn’t get the chance to make it look nice, to arrange it a little, because before you could, you got picked up by the waist and shaken about. You shriek-laughed a loud, “No!”

“Something nice to look at?” Joe pressed his face into your cheek as you squealed through your giggles.

“Am I not nice to look at, huh?” Joe squeezed extra tight before he put you down, turning you in his arms and keeping you real close.

“You’re nice to look at,” you said sweetly, still grinning widely, nose nudging up at his. “If I could put you in a vase and arrange you all nice, I would.”

Joe snorted, and you felt it on your face.

“Hmm. You’re funny.”

You got kissed by soft lips that almost felt shy to kiss you.

“Don’t get me a vase.”

And then you got kissed a little harder. Bit more firm.

“I’ll get my own.”

“No,” you objected, speaking right into his mouth. “You’ll get a stupid one with like, frosted writing on, or something. Live, love, laugh.”

You felt Joe’s smile as he kissed you harder, both arms squeezing as they wrapped around your waist tighter. You sighed into Joe’s affection and took great comfort in the fact that you were alone. You were outside of your flat, which was still wild in your opinion, but at least you were alone.

Alone was good.

Joe’d gotten into the habit of showing affection when you were around others, around strangers, and you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to it.

The first time Joe reached to hold your hand, you’d nearly had a panic attack.

It wasn’t very cold, but the wind was cutting. Hurt your forehead as you walked and made you hunch as you pulled up your shoulders to shield yourself as best you could. Joe’s hand finding yours was a welcome warmth for your cold fingers, but it still made you fall silent as you tensed up.

Joe just held on for a few steps, and looked at you. You could see him stare from your peripheral, could feel the burn of it high up in your cheeks, and tried your best to ignore it.

“You can relax.” Joe humorously said, speaking softly and leaning in a little to make sure you could hear him.

“I am relaxed.” You immediately argued, because holding hands with Joe shouldn’t be weird. It should actually be normal. You tangled up with your full bodies more days than you didn’t when you shared a flat. If anything, Joe’s touches were exactly what turned you lax, all floppy and boneless.

“S’just cold.”

“Hmm,” Joe sounded unsure, very obviously not believing you, and squeezed your fingers a couple of times. When you didn’t smile, Joe let his own drop too, and asked if you were okay.

“Fine.” You reassured, growing a little defensive. If Joe could just stop talking about it, that’d be great.

“Should I– do you want me to let go?”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, sounding a little squeaky, but you doubled down with a squeeze of your own.

Joe took it, accepted it, albeit a little unsure if maybe he’d made the wrong move here. But you’d walked along, and you held hands, and when you fell into random conversation again, holding your hand became something Joe stopped thinking about. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along yours, and at one point used his grasp to pull you in front of him when you had to share a narrow bit of pavement with oncomers.

You weren’t like Joe.

Not for a single second had you been able to be as casual about it as Joe had been.

You focussed on your hand the whole while you walked, and couldn’t help but check to see if others were looking at it. If strangers that passed you looked down at your hands. To check if they could see. If they somehow knew that you’d never done this before.

You had.

But not like this. Not outside. Not in public.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold Joe’s hand, but there was something about this new phase you were in, where Joe walked over to yours to pick you up to go out for dinner together. Where he had to ring the doorbell and ask if he could quickly come up to use the toilet before you left. Where he pretended he didn’t know where the bathroom was and made you show him the way. Where he faked being anxious when you left your flat, saying that he hoped you liked the restaurant he booked a table at. Where he nervously asked if you liked Italian food, as if you hadn’t shared a million pizzas together.

Things were different now, and although you were close, would often do everything you could to dissolve into his skin, walking hand in hand through the streets of London felt insane. Like you were moving too fast, even though you understood how silly that sounded.

You’d spent that entire walk thinking of a natural reason to let go of his hand, and Joe had felt your fingers twitch. Felt how you seemed to change you mind about it every three seconds. But, you’d said he could hold onto you, so, he simply did.

It wasn’t until you reached the restaurant and used the heavy door as an excuse to wiggle your fingers from Joe’s hand, using both of yours to pull it open.

Baby steps, Joe thought as he smirked to himself, astonished that he’d gotten to hold your hand out in public for over ten minutes.

He was sure you’d slap him away the second he even attempted to intertwine your fingers together.

Which, coincidentally, was exactly what you did the first time Joe tried to lean in for a quick peck on the lips as you said goodbye to each other outside of his flat.

You’d been out, and were both in a bit of a rush to get home. You thought that the way you’d hugged his arm for a second was plenty goodbye. You’d pressed the side of your face to his bicep and said you’d see him later.

You’d reached the point where you wanted to go cross the street as Joe would walk the other way to get to his front door, and when you tried to step away, he yanked you right back by the elbow.

The way you recoiled away from him was so extreme, it startled Joe. You almost made it look like he was about to hit you.

“Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath, and you immediately apologised. You stepped back closer to him, were about to accept a quick kiss as an apology, but let your eyes nervously dart around to see if there were other people. If there were witnesses.

Joe just looked at you, blinked a few times and then, instead of leaning in for a quick kiss, squeezed you in your side.

“Calm down. Call me when you get home.”

And you’d blushed at how Joe’d smiled at you before he turned to head inside. Your face had remained hot until you got home where you then had to take a moment to shake all the nervous jitters from your body.

It was such a weird spot to be in, Joe thought.

How he couldn’t get too close if there was the slightest chance of someone seeing, but to have you literally whine at him inbetween his sheets if he didn’t touch you in the right spot with the right pressure at the right speed.

But steps were being made in the right direction.

You each had you own place now, and Joe made a point to sometimes not see you for a few days. He kind of enjoyed getting to miss you. He liked how his stomach did flips when you’d ring his doorbell after not having been over for a few days. He liked how absence made his heart grow fonder, and how that felt healthy.

Joe assumed you felt the same way; maybe you didn’t like it as much as he did, but surely you also understood how this was at least more normal.

He never thought that what the two of you were before was toxic.

It was just... weird.

Good weird.

But this was better.

Still a little weird, he wasn’t going to lie. But better.

He got to tell you to call him when you got home now. He got to invite you over to his flat for Sunday roast now. And you would then come and bring him flowers now.

Joe had never received flowers before. Well, maybe he had. But not like this. Not from a girl who brought them just for him. Just because. He kind of loved it. Kind of loved you.

“God, you were right.” Joe said, eyes unblinking, comfortably staring.

Both satisfied and full after an early dinner, the two of you laid out on Joe’s sofa - the one that took six weeks and then two more to arrive - and both looked at the bouquet up on the kitchen island. You were tucked into his side, with one of his arms slung around your frame. You held one of his hands with both of yours and absentmindedly played with his fingers.

 “I don’t know how this works but they kind of make the whole room look better.”

“They do.” You agreed, smiling, because you did that. You turned your head, tilting up to look at Joe’s face. “Please let me pick out a vase for you, though.”

Joe’s grin slowly grew as he said, “Absolutely not. Might just keep the pitcher for flowers only, I kind of like it.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “This is such a boy’s flat.”

“Well,” Joe started, raising his eyebrows, finally breaking eye-contact with the fresh bloom, tucking in his chin to look down at you. “I am a boy, so, that checks out.”

For a moment you just looked at each other, smiling, cuddled up into the corner like you always were cuddled up into the corner together. When you saw Joe flick his eyes down to your lips, you pulled the hand you were still holding closer to bite right into the skin between his index finger and thumb.

Joe pretended to flinch, but you were barely leaving marks as you smiled through the bite, big eyes looking up at him. Joe took a moment to just take you in. The way you looked at him had him biting his own lip before he tried to grab hold of one of your hands to pull into his mouth.

You were already scream-laughing and trying your best to pull your hand away before he even got close. It left you in a wrestling pile of limbs, Joe with his mouth open, growling and ready to bite at whatever got close enough. He ended up getting at bit of your sleeve in between his teeth, pinning you down into the soft seat-cushions and he felt drunk with joy.

He was so fucking happy.

Pretty girl in his flat, giggling away on his sofa, and she’d brought him flowers. It was kind of disgusting how he’d turned to goop on the inside.

Joe didn’t wait for your giggles to die out to get his lips on yours and kiss you silly.

There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was sticky and sugary sweet and Joe loved the taste it.

Loved how it bubbled over and leaked into his stomach.

Loved how it swirled into his limbs and made him reach for your hand to hold when you were walking outside.

Loved how it made him put his arm around your shoulders to pull you tightly into his side as you waited to get your coffees whilst the barista prepared them.

Loved how it grew as he took the lead on this new way of being together the way you had done before when you still lived together.

It made Joe want to introduce you to someone as his girlfriend, knowing full well that you hadn’t had that conversation yet, and that you’d likely have a melt down, but God.

It was just what he wanted to do, he couldn’t help it.

He wouldn’t.

There was a high probability that you’d actually murder him if he pulled a stunt like that.

The fact that you were kissing like this outside of your flat right now was already sort of stretching it, Joe knew.

You let Joe kiss you on his sofa for a minute. Let him slide his nose around yours with an open mouth that hovered over yours inbetween kisses. He made you work for it, having to lift up your head for more when he teased you for too long.

When you felt how Joe started readjusting his position on top of you, you knew you had to break it off.

“Hmm– Joe, no, I gotta–”

“Hm?”

“I gotta go, there’s– stop, there’s a potential flatmate coming over in a bit, I gotta– Joe!”

Joe finally broke away with an annoyed grumble leaving his throat as he did.

“Fine.”

“I can... I could always come back after?”

Joe shifted enough to let you escape the sofa.

“Hmm, you could, but I do have an early morning, so it’s probably not worth the trouble.” Joe sighed, lying back with an arm curled behind his head, watching you twist your clothes so it all sat right again.

“No?”

“I’ll probably be asleep by the time you make it back here.”

“Well,” you started, slinging your arms into your coat. “All depends on how long this is going to take. If it’s another 19-year-old trying to negotiate for a 30-70 rent split first thing, I’ll only be a second.”

“God, for your sake, I hope it’s not another student. But for my sake...” Joe made big eyes, giving you a suggestive look that broke into a smile when you laughed.

You gave Joe a last quick kiss as you bent over the sofa and told him you’d see him later, all casual.

Joe’s smile lingered as he watched you walk out.

“Call me when you get home!”

Yea... there was something living inside Joe’s chest.

And it was cuddly and fuzzy and comfortable and good...

For now.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[navybrat817]

He's not stalking you, he's looking after you, baby

Oh, is he?

Follow You Home

Pairing: Soft!Bucky Barnes x Florist!Female Reader Summary: Bucky just wants to see you smile when he visits you at the flower shop. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: (S)talking, (c)reepy behavior, talk of (v)iolence and (d)eath, (s)exual thoughts, delusion, obsession, homeboy has issues (still love him), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Future fics for this AU will venture into (d)arker territory. Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @rookthorne. A/N: For @springdandelixn's Double-Trouble Sleepover (featuring flowers) and @darkficsyouneveraskedfor's Mini March Challenge ((s)talking, ribbon, plaid shirt). ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

A sense of serenity and calm washed over Bucky Barnes as he walked into the flower shop. The fragrance and colors almost overwhelmed him the first time he went in, but he learned to adjust. One of the only blessings of the trauma he experienced is that he could be extremely adaptable when the occasion called for it. Now he craved the sweet scent that surrounded him.

The way he craved you.

“Hi, Bucky,” you called from behind the counter. “Right on time.”

Like when he saw you the first time, he stared at you for far too long. He was still too intrigued to care if you caught him. Unlike most people around him, you never cowered under his gaze. You always greeted him with a smile which was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

Even if your smile didn’t reach your eyes today.

Still beautiful. Still mine.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a quick look around as he made his way to the counter where his flowers were waiting. “I brought you something.”

“Let me guess?” you asked, your smile still not as bright as normal. “A candy bar because I’m so sweet?”

Sweet enough to melt on my tongue.

“What gave it away?” he asked, handing it over with a small smile of his own. He could have set it on the counter, but he liked having an excuse for his fingers to brush against yours. “One day I might switch it up on you.”

“No, this is nice,” you said, sniffling. “Thank you.”

I’m reliable. Dependable.

Predictability had a way of putting some at ease. It communicated stability, safety, and security. He made sure you knew exactly what time he’d be at the shop and on which day. He always purchased the same flowers. Always brought the same wrapped candy after you commented one day that you craved it.

You'll crave me the way I crave you.

“Beautiful,” he said as he inspected the small bouquet and took a moment to steal a glance at you. Not that he needed to look over the arrangement. They were perfect every time, right down to the perfect ribbon bow to hold them together. “Mrs. Bradshaw will love them.”

Every week he bought a small bouquet of tulips for his elderly neighbor. She didn’t have many people to look out for her, so he checked in whenever he could. In some ways, she reminded him of Rebecca. Or at least what he thought Rebecca would be like if he got to see her grow up. Maybe it was why he felt the need to protect her.

He felt the need to protect you, too.

Just not from myself.

“It’s nice that you do that,” you said, ringing them up with another quiet sniffle.

“I don’t mean to pry, but is everything okay?” he asked, putting the change in the small bowl by the register.

“Just not a great day,” you tried to brush off.

“Bad customer? I don’t mind taking care of them. Just tell me who,” he offered.

A man screamed at you weeks ago over the cost of flowers for his wedding. You explained that he was receiving a discount and the price was agreed upon, but it wasn’t good enough for the jerk. You threw him out after he shattered one of your vases.

Bucky shattered one of his knees.

I’m not a bad man.

“No, it wasn’t a bad customer,” you said, your eyes misty as you reached for the candy bar and changed your mind.

"You can talk to me," he urged, placing his hand on yours long enough to provide comfort without being uncomfortable. "I'm your friend, right?"

I'm actually more than that.

"Yeah," you nodded, taking a deep breayhy. “You know my boyfriend?”

Bucky didn’t say anything for a moment. When his slight obsession with you began, he found out everything he could. While it didn't surprise him that you had a boyfriend, it disappointed him. Especially when he discovered that he was a decent man. Always friendly when he visited the shop. Even kept your place nice and tidy when he stopped by.

It was a feat Bucky didn't break every single one of his fingers for touching you.

“Yeah, I know of him.”

“He dumped me. Through a text,” you said as more tears welled up. “Just said we were through. No explanation. When I tried to call him, he blocked me."

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his voice filled with sympathy as he grabbed a pack of tissues from his jacket pocket.

"My stuff was in a box this morning, waiting in front of my door," you went on. "I thought things were going great between us. Not too fast or too slow, but I guess I was wrong. Maybe he was seeing someone else."

"If he was, he's an idiot,” he said, itching to walk around the counter to hug you. It broke his heart to see you upset. “They can't see someone as perfect as you when they have you right in front of them.”

“I’m not perfect,” you argued, dabbing your eyes with the tissue. “Look at me. I’m crying in the middle of the shop.”

“You’re perfect to me,” he said.

In every way.

"Thanks, Bucky. You've always been very kind."

“It’s the other way around,” he said, clearing his throat. “And I appreciate it more than you know.”

Because of Bucky’s past, he did his best to blend in most days. As a man forced to do bad things against his will, the truth behind his actions didn’t matter to some. They had their minds made up about him and would never trust him because of what he did.

Do people feel better by making me a villain?

But one day, while he was out trying to make amends, he spotted you helping a homeless man on the sidewalk. He had seen him before. Most passed him without a second glance, but you crouched down and checked on him. You even gave him a bit of food you had on you and some money.

“I wish I could give you more, but that’s all I have,” you said.

The man nearly cried with gratitude. No one else cared, but you did. That was when you spotted Bucky looking your way. He could avoid being seen if he wished, but part of him wanted you to notice him. If you recognized him, in a good or bad way, you didn’t show it. You merely smiled, gave him a friendly nod, and walked on.

As if you hadn’t changed his life.

Bucky didn’t mean to follow you at first, but he had to make sure you got to wherever you were going safely. He didn't want anything bad to happen to you. Besides, a gaze between the two of you wasn't enough to leave him satisfied. Once he squashed his curiosity and made sure you were okay, he thought he’d leave you be.

He was wrong.

The second he walked into the shop and saw you again, he knew you had to be his.

“You’re caring and strong. You deserve kindness and respect,” he told you, wondering if the depths of his feelings showed in his eyes. “Someone who will love and cherish you for who you are.”

“I might cry again,” you smiled.

It reached your eyes this time.

“I’m just glad you’re smiling again,” he said. It would be beautiful to wake up to it each day. He was going to make that happen.

“Is it okay if I ask for a hug?”

“Sure,” he said, opening his arms.

You moved around the counter and leaned into him with a sigh. He smiled as he held you, feeling a warmth inside of him that he hadn’t felt since before he met you. He imagined many times how he’d make you shiver with need once he had his hands on you and it took strength not to stretch you out on the counter.

Just like it took him strength not to touch you in your home.

Watching wasn’t enough. It never was. He’d have you in his bed soon.

Where you belong.

“It’s probably for the best. I think he was stealing some of my panties,” you said against his shoulder before you gasped. “Oh, my god! I shouldn’t have told you that. I’m so sorry.”

Bucky loved the feel of your satin underwear around his cock. It was easy to imagine how wet they’d be against your pussy as he teased you. Not that you’d wear underwear much once he had you. Maybe he’d keep you in one of his Henley’s. Or a plaid shirt so he could rip it open. Or little sundresses so he could push them up around your hips.

So many options.

“Don’t be sorry,” he smiled when you kept your face hidden. “I’m glad you’re comfortable with me.”

As you should be.

“Thank you, Bucky,,” you said, lifting your head and gazing at him. "You're a good guy."

"I'm trying to be," he whispered, holding you a bit tighter before he let you go.

If anything, he'd be good to you.

"Here," you said as you pulled away and grabbed the largest red rose in the shop. “You should find someone special to give this to. I think they’d be very lucky.”

“Yeah, I think I will,” he said as a couple walked through the door. “I should let you help them. Is it okay if I see you tomorrow? Just in case you need a friend."

"I'd like that," you smiled.

"I'll see you later then," he smiled back.

“Bye. Thanks again."

Bucky left the rose next to the candy bar when you weren't looking and walked out the door with his tulips in hand. He’d have to explain to Mrs. Bradshaw that he’d be moving shortly. His new home was ready. A place outside of the city. Quiet. Secluded.

Perfect for the two of you.

Bucky was going to take great pleasure in the two of you christening every room of the place. He'd even fill the rooms with roses and other flowers to show how special you are. You deserved beauty in your home.

He frowned when he suddenly thought of your tears. Your now ex-boyfriend hadn't seen him coming. As much as part of him hated that he ever touched you, had been inside you, he didn't want to cause an innocent man pain. Not when his only crime was that he wanted you.

I just wanted you more.

He almost felt guilty for sending the text and blocking your number. He felt even worse when he remembered how the light left his eyes. That feeling went away when he boxed up your things. It had to be done.

No one would find the body.

Maybe I am a villain, but I'll be your hero, too.

Once Bucky saw you home safely tonight, he’d wait until after midnight to make his move. He did say he'd see you tomorrow. He’d show you how easy it is to break into your place undetected and bring you to your new home. A place where he could keep you safe from a world that didn’t deserve your kindness.

He didn’t have a choice or control over his life in years past, but he did now. He chose to take back control. To begin again.

Starting with you.

And who better to love and protect you than the former Winter Soldier?

You'll love your new home, right? Bucky thinks so. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[fizzyxcustard]

Under Your Spell

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, insecurity, a little angst (with a happy ending)

Word count: 1571

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "You put a spell on Thorin to make him fall in love with you, but as the spell wears off, you find out that he has always loved you." Requested by @asgardianhobbit98

Written while listening to Journey's Greatest Hits.

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Thank you to everyone who supported me during my posting hiatus. I felt like it was needed to get back into a better mindset after I become incredibly overwhelmed by another one of my fics' reception.

The last twenty four hours had been beyond perfect. The spell which you had been keeping for the last few months, ready for the chance to use, had worked better than you could have imagined. Thorin had declared undying love to you as the sun set; the two of you having just shared dinner together with a large group. Then once on your own together, he had been so open in his affection toward you, blushing and smiling as the words tumbled out of his mouth. 

“I love you more than anything,” he had told you, confident and bold. He had taken your hand, kissed it, then asked for you to join him on the royal balcony. 

The two of you had sipped wine, while Thorin gazed at you over the top of the glass, unable to tear his gaze from you. 

You shared tender kisses, hand holding, and Thorin had held you as you fell asleep. Then you woke in his arms, warm and content. He had been watching you, and as you woke from your slumber, he smiled at you and kissed your head. 

All of that day and you had remained in Thorin’s presence, sharing meals, conversations, kisses. 

“Would you join me again tonight on the balcony? It is forecast that we should have a clear night sky.”

“Of course,” you had replied. Only now, sadness began to seep from your words, unable to hide any further. The realisation that all of this would be over at sundown was growing heavy in your heart and gut. The spell would only last for one twenty four hour period, and could only ever be used on one person once in their life. After sundown, and Thorin would return to his former self, purely a friend to you and your King, nothing more than that. 

It was almost sundown, and you excused yourself from Thorin’s chambers, telling him that you wished to quickly write a letter to a friend. He just smiled at you, his eyes so full of adoration, as you disappeared out of the door. 

As you walked the corridors back to your bed chamber, you felt tears fall down your cheeks. The pain was so heavy and hot in your chest. Just to have Thorin adore you for twenty four hours had been perfect beyond any kind of comprehension. However, the fall back to reality was going to be excruciating. In time, another woman would have Thorin fall for them, and this time it would be of his own choice.  

You lit your candles and sat down on the edge of your bed, staring at the vase of roses that Thorin had had brought to your chamber. They could now be disposed of as they would just serve as a reminder of your pathetic need to have Thorin love you. 

All sense of time slipped away from you as you fell asleep on your bed, still fully dressed. Once you had lay out on your bed, you had not moved. Tears had flowed, pulling you into your subconscious world where you could be happy temporarily. 

Dreams came and went, flickering pictures of far off lands that you had explored with the Company, months earlier, where you had fallen for their leader. Flashes of sunlight bouncing off swords and the calls of armies became a jumble in your mind. 

Your eyes opened slowly, adjusting. The candles had gone out hours ago. There was a dull thump behind your eyes and you winced, blinking hard. 

For a second, you felt as if you were still in a dream somewhere. You could feel something resting on your waist, curled around. Blinking again, you looked down and could make out a hand. On the middle finger was a ring. 

You gasped and shifted away suddenly, almost dropping out of bed. “What?” you choked. 

Thorin was lying on your bed, and was now rousing. His eyes opened slowly and he smiled at the sight of you. “Come back to bed, my love,” he said sleepily. “It’s still early.” 

“But…how?”

He just smiled again and sat up. “You think a spell could make me love you?” 

“How did you know about it?” 

“I’ve known about it quite some time now,” he replied. “I will not name any names, but I was made aware that you acquired the spell from someone in Lake-town, did you not?”

Shame hit you hard and you lowered your head, feeling the tears fall once again. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “And now you are playing along to mock me; the spell wore off at night fall yesterday.” 

Thorin got up from the bed and followed the edge of it towards you. “Why would you think I’d ever mock you?” He stood before you, his head to once side in question and disbelief that you could ever think such a thing. 

“I was stupid to ever think you could love me,” you hissed. 

Anger flared in Thorin’s eyes and on impulse he grabbed your hip and threw you both into a kiss. It was hot, demanding, needing. So much unlike the day earlier. All you could do in your weakness was cling to him, your backside resting against your dresser. He was pressing into you harder now, his tongue desperate in your mouth. 

Thorin drew back from you, his blue eyes ablaze. They were no longer soft like the day before, but they were on fire. That had always been the true Thorin, and as you had known him for the last six months: passionate, on fire. He pressed his forehead to you and then kissed it. 

You closed your eyes as you felt his hand become buried in your hair. His other hand was still on your hip. There was a desperation in his actions. The day earlier and he had wanted to be in your company, to look upon you. Now, he needed to touch you. 

The two of you kissed again, hard and needing. You could feel your inhibitions let go, and your hands became tangled up in his hair, your breath lost, your heart pounding. 

He whispered your name, needing you. 

Within minutes and the two of you were back on your bed, disrobed and exploring each other. Thorin’s lips caressed every inch of you, and when he was kissing down the inside of your thigh, he looked up at you. “Why did you ever think you needed a spell to capture my heart? It was always yours.” 

The two of you joined, exhaling in relief at the pent up frustration. Thorin was over you, his one hand gripping yours. To feel him connected with you, feel him inside you, giving himself over to you by choice, that was the true magic. 

Your bodies were synchronised, moving together in rhythm so well. 

Each and every time Thorin’s gaze connected with yours, and you could see the love for you there. It burned. The spell you had cast had diluted his true love, and his gaze the day earlier had been as if he weren’t quite in the room with you. Now he was present for every second. 

Every thrust was now making you build upward towards climax. The sensations feeling as if waves were cascading down your body, until the last one took hold. It came from the base of your stomach, and shattered outward. You shook, and as you rode out that one spectacular wave, Thorin kept his gaze locked on you. 

The sensation of you gripping Thorin’s girth in your plateau pushed him over the edge, and he spilled. He dug his head against your neck, groaning at the wondrous pleasure that washed over him. 

Both of you fell down beside each other, panting and sweating. Thorin reached for you, and you rolled over to him, and put your head on his chest. “Is that what true love feels like?” you gasped. 

“No spell could ever replicate that,” Thorin said softly. “When you first placed the spell on me, it was as if I couldn’t control my words, and no longer could I keep my feelings for you secret. But the expression of my love for you, it…I cannot describe it. It was as if it was dulled, and when dusk came, the spell having ended, my heart and my body burned for you again, like it always had. The spell stopped me feeling that love in a true sense.” 

“Why did you never tell me how you felt?” you asked, propping yourself up on your arm. 

“I was terrified of rejection. The spell at least took away my cowardice.” 

“You’re the bravest man I’ve ever known, and yet you couldn’t tell me you loved me?” you asked, not quite able to believe such a revelation. “You lead a kingdom, and armies, yet you couldn’t tell me three simple words.” 

Thorin sighed. “You did not tell me either.” 

“I had reason not to,” you scoffed. “You’re a king. Declaring your love to a king and expecting them to love you in return is just ridiculous.” 

You saw that anger flare in Thorin’s eyes again, and his jaw clenched. “I am a king in name and by my birth right. But I am no different to you in heart. There is only one that I bow to, and that is my wife and Queen. And those positions will only ever be filled by one person…you.” 

***

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[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Their S/O is Clumsy

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

SEOKJIN:

Jin had heard the smash before he saw it and walking into the kitchen he'd seen exactly what he had been expecting when he heard the smash followed by a scream.

"Not again," He chuckled a little.

"I know, I'm sorry." You mumbled as you carefully swept up the pieces of glass from the floor.

"You're just clumsy, maybe we should invest in plastic mugs," He teased but you pouted at him,

"I think I have a personal vendetta against mugs, all I seem to do is break them." You went to reach out and pick up a big piece but Jin stopped you, doing it himself so you wouldn't harm your hands.

"They can't see to catch a break around you." He winked but you sighed, leaning back against the cupboard and shaking your head,

"I'm cursed, it's the only explanation." 

"Or maybe it's just a conspiracy by the dishware industry to keep us buying more mugs." He tried to make light of it all knowing you were probably beating yourself up about it enough already.

  "Wouldn't surprise me at this point." You were staring down at the floor and Jin pouted moving closer to you, 

"Hey, accidents happen. It's all part of your quirky charm."

"Thanks for not making me feel like a complete klutz." He smiles placing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple 

"Of course not. Besides, it gives me an excuse to be your knight in shining armour, saving the day from rogue mugs."

YOONGI:

"I love this place," You whispered to Yoongi as you both walked around what was going to be your wedding venue. The two of you were trying to find the perfect place and this was it, it had stunning architecture and fit with your theme.

"We should have our first dance in here," You gasped out to Yoongi, swinging your arms around not noticing the vase right next to you until you saw what was about to happen.

"Oh shit," You whimpered out, Yoongi sprung into action, reaching out and catching it before it fell to the floor.

"Got it," He whispered, carefully putting it back into place before anyone could notice what had happened.

"Are you secretly spiderman?" You giggled at him, noticing how fast he'd been to catch it,

"No, I just have a fiancee who likes to dance with inanimate objects. Are you trying to start a pottery disaster?" He teased you lightly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you away from anything else you could knock over. 

"I swear, it's like I have a magnet for clumsiness." You laughed, your body heating up as you realised you were pretty clumsy.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm here to save the day." You nudged him softly and he smirked at you,

"Hey! Just doing my duty, protecting the world from your accidental chaos." You roll your eyes at him and kiss his cheek softly. 

"Thanks for always having my back." You whispered in his ear as he blushed deeply. 

"For you? Always."

HOSEOK:

"Do you want some help bringing in the final box?" Hoseok asked as he watched you proudly walk in the direction of your car,

"I'm fine, just make sure you lock it once I'm back." You smiled happily, the two of you were moving into your first place together and so far everything had been going well, a little too well.

"Whoa! Yn!" Hoseok cried out as he rushed over to you, the car boot was starting to shut on its own,

"Damn, that would have hurt."

"You think?" He laughed dryly, looking at the car and pouting. The thing was practically falling apart but you insisted on keeping it anyway.

"You need to get rid of this thing, it's almost as accident-prone as you are." He teased, shutting the boot and making sure the thing was locked, not that anyone would steal it.

"The car is my first ever car, I deserve to keep it until it dies."

"Or it kills you," He pouted, you knew he was just looking out for you but the car meant everything to you, it was the first thing you'd ever bought.

"It won't kill me, I'm just a klutz like you said," You grinned at him and he nodded, kissing your cheek.

"Let's go and unpack." He smiled, he knew he'd be able to convince you one day to get rid of the death trap.

NAMJOON:

"Mother fucker!" You cried out dropping the paper you were holding and clutching your finger to your chest.

"What's wrong?! What happened?!" Namjoon called out as he raced into the room, you winced a little and put your finger into your mouth. 

"Just a silly paper cut. I swear, I'm like a walking disaster today." You mumbled, pulling your finger out of your mouth as Namjoon knelt down beside you on the floor.

"A paper cut, huh? You're lucky it's not a full-blown catastrophe. Let's see." You extend your hand slowly and bite your lip.

"It stings a bit." You whispered as he took your hand carefully in his and began to examine it, exaggerating the seriousness of it all.

"Ah, the dreaded paper cut. A foe worthy of any warrior." You rolled your eyes playfully at him and bit your lip,

"Yeah, yeah. I should've known better than to mess with that piece of paper." You grinned making Namjoon chuckle at you,

"Well, you know what they say, 'Handle paper with care, or face the wrath of its tiny, sharp edges.'"

"You're ridiculous." You laughed out and he smirked at you, happy he could make you smile over it. He gently lifted your finger to his lips and kissed it softly.

"There, all better. Consider yourself rescued from the evil paper."

"Thanks, my hero! My hero!" You yelled dramatically as he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"Anytime, clumsy cutie. Let's try to avoid any more battles with office supplies, alright?" You nodded, kissing him softly.

JIMIN:

Today was a beautiful day, you and Jimin were on a hike up some big mountain and it was lovely, the sun was just warm enough for you not to pick up too much of a sweat and the views were beautiful, 

"Gonna get a photo," You whispered, reaching into your bag as you walked which was a bad idea for someone as accidental as you. Before you knew it, your foot caught behind your ankle and you could feel yourself falling unable to stop,

"Whoa, watch your step there!" Jimin chuckled, catching you and bringing you into his chest, your heart thumped,

"T-Thanks, that would have been a disaster," You mumbled, your whole body burning in embarrassment

"Seems like you're having a bit of a clumsy day, huh?" He chuckled and you rolled your eyes,

"Story of my life, it seems. I swear, I have a magnet for tripping hazards."

"I'm here to be your personal balance assistant." He saluted you and you giggled a little.

"I guess I should add that to your list of boyfriend duties, huh?"

"Absolutely. Alongside 'snack provider' and 'backpack carrier'," He told you, taking your bag from your shoulder and giving you your phone so you could get some photos.

TAEHYUNG:

The door flew open as a very sweaty Taehyung came racing through the door to find you. You'd called him at work crying and begging for him to come home, not giving him any details and as soon as he saw you he knew why.

"Oh my goodness, what happened? Are you okay?" He panicked, sitting down beside you and looking down at your leg, about to run his hand over the very painful leg but you winched at him,

"I, uh, had a little accident...tripped over my own feet." You admittedly sheepishly, you'd been cleaning up around the house when you tripped, taking a tumble down a flight of stairs and now here you were.

"You tripped? Are you hurt anywhere else?" Concern dripped from his voice as he looked at you, you shook your head,

"No, just my leg. I'm sorry, I know how clumsy I am." The tears began to build inside of your eyes and Taehyung shook his head at you.

"Hey, accidents happen. Let's get you some help. Can you move?" He stood back up and you nodded at him, you'd managed to limp to the sofa where you were sitting. Carefully he helped you up,

"Let's get you to the hospital. We'll get this taken care of." Tears began to run down your cheeks as you realised you had taken him away from work for this.

"I'm sorry for ruining your day."

"Hey, you didn't ruin anything. You're more important than any plans. I just want to make sure you're okay." He promised you, kissing your cheek softly as you sniffled.

JUNGKOOK:

Jungkook was standing in the kitchen when he first sat the bruise on your thigh and his mouth almost fell open,

"Babe!? What happened?!" Concern laced his voice as he rushed to you and gently ran his thumb over your skin causing you to hiss out.

"I...I don't know, must have been the doorframe again," You mumbled looking down at his fingers, it was common for you to walk into everything, doors, tables, hell you even walked into the counter the other week.

"Does it hurt?" He pouted at you,

"A little," You whined as he gently touched the bruise.

"You're lucky I'm here to protect you from those menacing door frames. We should put some ice on it," He told you before making his way over to the freezer and hunting for an ice pack.

"My knight in shining armour." You giggled hugging him from behind.

"Let's try and be more careful in the future," He said as he took out the ice and smiled warmly at you.